#didn't speak to my best friend for two weeks and i considered never speaking to him again

[thaatdigitaldiary]

for the first time

hopkins paige bueckers x hopkins fem reader

for a long time, paige didn’t know why she felt the way she did about her best friend, someone who she “wasn’t” supposed to love, she didn’t want to ruin things. it was unfortunate she didn’t know you were waiting for her first. (kinda got this idea while listening to bags by clairo so i hope this makes your heart tingle and your eyes water!)

fluff and flirtationnnn (ofc🙏🏽), slight angst & minor argument, internal homophobia, cuteness and clarity at the end | this is lengthy! i hope ya like

enjoy!🙂‍↕️

disclaimer: i write nothing but angst or fluff when it comes to hopkins p, considering she was in highschool. thank you! - im considering this a “throwback story” so i can make a part two for older reader and older paige. 🫶🏽

paige and you were completely different when it came to high school. her priorities consisted of basketball, her future career, and passing senior year so she can make way to uconn. you however, were all about academics. you were in basically any club available, maintained a 4.0 gpa, and quickly climbed the rank of class president. how you two met was random, your sophomore year you were in photography club, meaning you took pictures of all the sports teams for the yearbook, and she stayed behind to talk to you.

"cool ass camera." she said going to touch it, but you quickly swat her hand away.

"hey! no touching. you break you buy." you say slightly stern, pointing your finger at her.

"technically YOU'D have to buy, this has nothing to do with me." she says laughing and shrugging her shoulders, getting a smile out of you. for her first time seeing you smile, she sure was in love with it.

"okay "miss photographer", what's your name?" she asks you, hoping she can get to know you. "mine's paige."

"i know, i see you all the time, you're like.. the best basketball player here." you say bragging on her, feeling kind of shy when you give away that you're a big fan of her.

"oh really, you think so?" she says in a flirty tone while she flexes, making you blush out of nervousness.

"okay, okay, don't get too in your head now, but yeah, you're really good. i'm the one who records and snaps all your shots. but my name is y/n, since you asked." you say with such a sweet voice, something that sent her in a trance, completely dazed in the sound of you speaking.

"cute name. hey uh, i was gonna ask did you need any help packing this stuff up, i won't break it i promise." paige says chuckling, her smile pure and full of life, an image that stayed in your head since you met her.

two years pass, and you and paige can never separate. despite being utter opposites of each other, you're glued to the hip. you still did photography, getting the best candid photos of your best friend on the court, excited to post them on social media so she gets the attention she deserves. you gathered the pictures together and created a collage to post on instagram.

you were paige's biggest fan to say the least, buying a hoodie with her name and number on it, and being able to sit on the sidelines and watch her play, with your photographer privilege of course. anytime she made a three, she'd point at you, making you smile. watching her play was something you couldn't get enough of, learning the game so you could understand when she was frustrated with a play, or if she just rambled on to you about it, you'd know exactly what she was talking about.

paige and your bond grew stronger, going to family events together, having sleepovers every weekend, even during the week, as well as going on family trips with her. you felt like you had your person when it came down to paige. you didn't really know much about anyone at your school, and you definitely didn't expect the school's star basketball player to befriend you.

life wasn't always so peachy though. you really struggled finding yourself. for a long time you were confused, not when it came to school, when it came down to your feelings. ever since you met paige, there was this feeling you couldn't shake, this feeling of nurture and love that you gained from her, the type no one else could give you. growing up, you weren't one to express your feelings to your parents. they were always busy, super strict, and for some reason never found too much time for you. but paige, she always dropped anything even if meant seeing you for 5 minutes.

the first time paige saw you, she noticed how you radiated positive energy, even though she had no clue what you were going through at home. all she wanted was to be the person by your side through thick and thin, forever and always.

with about a month and a half of school left, paige and her teammates took home the trophy for the final game of the season, and you were more than proud for her, ecstatic even. when the final buzzer went off for the end of the game, paige made a 3 pointer, beating the buzzer. you stood up and cheered as loud as you could, while paige ran towards you and swiftly lifted you up into a hug, making your feet dangle in the air.

"i'm so proud of you p." you said, muffled into her shoulder, as you feel her start to tear up from her words, and one of her biggest achievements.

"i really couldn't have done it without you, you're my motivation y/n." you feel a catch in your throat, signaling you're about to cry, and she quickly wipes your tears.

her family takes you both out to eat, and you had a duffel bag in their trunk that you packed the night before, so you could stay over at paige's house tonight.

after eating and making it to paige's place, you and paige made it up to her room, where she dropped her bags and your duffel that she insisted on carrying so you didn't "hurt your pretty hands" as she'd say. her room has evolved so much over the years, furniture moved around, basketball posters growing on the walls every visit, but one thing that never changed, was the framed picture of you and her on your nightstand, you on her back after her first win, both of your smiles bright and lively. the same picture lingered on her lockscreen ever since you two took it, your lockscreen being a picture you and her took at a sleepover at your house, you two under a fuzzy olive green blanket, exceptionally close for "best friends", but you never really cared.

that's another thing when it came down to paige, you never really cared. sure, questions and rumors spread, "are y/n and paige together?" "is paige gay?" "what's y/n's sexuality?"

it got annoying after a while, and paige and you always seemed to avoid the questions, and simply ignore them. it sucked that you wondered the same thing though. that was a sensitive topic, you couldn't ask paige about that, what if she finds you weird and stops talking to you?

you though, you should've been asking yourself that question. you've dated one guy throughout high school, and sure you liked him, (so you thought), but he was rude and belittling. after a conversation with paige, you immediately broke up with him. "he's not good enough for you," she said to you, always knowing what was best.

the real question was, what really was good enough for me?

paige never dated anyone in highschool, she turned down girls AND guys, so it made it extra hard to read her, even though you knew her like a book, cover page to the summary on the back of it. you wanted to know, but you didn't want to lose her in the midst of your curiosity.

sitting on paige's bed, you took your shoes off and got comfortable like you usually do, and she took off her practice gear and sat next to you.

"thank you for always being here for me y/n, like seriously." she sounds so genuine and would do anything to keep you here forever.

"p, i'm always gonna be here for you, you're my best friend." you go to embrace her, her muscular arms holding you close, your perfume lingering in her nose, making her feel at home.

you and her let go and look at each other for a while, eye contact never breaking, when she leans in for a kiss, and you let her in. the kiss is slow, as she tries to learn your body language, the kiss is meaningful, but is cut short when she starts freaking out.

"jesus christ y/n i'm sorry."

"i didn't mean to do that, it was an accident,"

an accident?

"oh, uh, yeah it's fine." you say, confused on what the big deal was, you've been wanting to do that forever, but i guess things weren't reciprocated.

things quickly got awkward, and then paige says something that honestly breaks your heart a little.

"maybe you shouldn't stay the night tonight, i uh, got family stuff."

you knew that wasn't true, she just didn't want you around after a moment like this just happened. but why is she shutting it down?

"you don't wanna talk first, i mean a lot just happened i think we should ta-" you try to explain to her when she cuts you off.

"just go home y/n." her voice cold and bleak, making you queasy.

paige was never like this with you, can a kiss really change everything? you thought asking your best friend a question would make you lose her, but you two KISSED. your heart dropped to your feet with the thoughts swarming in your head, "is she gonna leave me?" being the main one.

the next day rolls around, it was 12:30, the time she usually got back home after practicing with her dad, and you’ve received no sign of her, no texts or missed facetimes, which was unusual since you promised each other two years ago you'd try to facetime every. single. day. "she just needs time," you thought to yourself, but you text her anyway.

"hey paigeyyy, i'm gonna go to the store later, did you want me to pick anything up for you? i can drop by your house and give it to you?"

read 12:35pm

she read your message, but didn't respond until ten minutes later with a simple and dry "no" which made you sigh and move on about the day.

you missed paige. you slowly start to regret last night, but there's nothing you can do to change it. you already miss her face, her hugs, her lips, and how she looked at you. you open your camera roll to see a picture you and her took last night after her game, her holding you bridal style while you hold up her trophy, both of you smiling at each other. you put your phone down and decide to lay down for the rest of the day, as you had no motivation to do anything knowing your best friend didn't even wanna speak to you.

but deep down it was more than that, you had really fallen for paige, not wanting anyone but her, was that so wrong?

paige on the other hand, was losing it. she didn't know what to do with herself. there was no way she liked girls, let alone her best friend.

so why did she kiss her?

she wanted answers, but she couldn't and didn't want to talk to anyone about it, scared of how others would perceive her, worried she'd lose people over this, and worst of all, she didn't want to lose her best friend. she had to push her away, she needed space to think.

she thought there was nothing wrong with that, but it was the worst thing she could've done.

a week passes, neither of you are talking much, you haven't facetimed in what seems like forever, and her responses to you are weak and bland, making you feel as if she's not interested in talking to you anymore.

prom is approaching, you and paige planned to go together, to dance, make fun of other peoples dancing, and have another lively moment before summer break. but after that night, you're not sure what you two are gonna do, mainly because the day of prom, paige hadn't texted you at all. you weren't gonna go since you figured she wasn't, but you needed to get out of bed and go do something fun to get your mind off of the situation.

a couple hours go by, and you're finished getting ready. you have on an all black floor length dress, with small purple accents, since you already pre picked it out, intending to match with paige. you took your pictures with your parents, and drove to the school, as prom was being held in the gym this year.

you get there, hands clammy from your nervousness. you hate being here without paige, you wanted to take so many pictures, make so many memories, slow dance, and this was gonna be the night you were ACTUALLY planning on kissing her for the first time, showing her how long you've loved her.

the whole time you've been standing around looking bored, knowing you'd have so much fun if paige were here. that's until a guy from the football team comes up to you, asking you to dance with him. you insist, as you have nothing better to do. a slow song starts, and you and him are dancing slowly, until you notice a familiar face walk in the gym. paige.

she sees you and him and storms off to the bathroom, furious at the fact that you looked so beautiful, and that she wasn't the one with hands around your waist, taking in all your beauty.

you excuse yourself from his grasp, walking towards the bathroom, letting it clear out before you walk in.

"hey.." you say softly, not wanting to come off aggressive as if she hasn't been talking to you in what seemed like ages.

"what the fuck is he doing slow dancing with you? that was our thing y/n." she says, sort of yelling at you, but you quickly retaliate.

"no paige. you don't get to be mad at me because YOU shut me out. all i wanted to do was talk to you, you made me feel crazy, like something was wrong with me." you say, starting to cry.

"you completely went ghost on me, since before that night i've wanted no one but you, but i guess it doesn't matter,"

"i didn't come with him, he just asked me to dance because i looked bored, so i said yes." you tell her, looking at the tiled bathroom floor.

paige cups your chin and pulls your head up so you can look her in the eyes.

"i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have ran from you, i was scared. i really did mean to kiss you, just not like that. i wanted it to be special, i wanted it to be while we danced. i thought he was about to take that opportunity away from me. it woulda been memorable y'know?" she says while looking deep in your eyes, hoping you'd forgive her. “i know i’ve been acting weird, i just didn’t know what to do if i lost you.”

"i was also scared of what people would think of me, yknow, liking girls and shit. especially liking you, you're perfect, i didn't wanna ruin anything for you."

you don't respond immediately, until she says what's been on her mind since she met you.

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i've loved you since the first time i met you, you keep me sane, and without you i was losing my shit. there’s nothing wrong with you ma, and i apologize for making you feel that way."

your eyes go a little bit wider, and you finally respond, "i love you too paige, i always have. forget what other people think p, nobody matters but me with you." you smile wide at her and she smiles back, finally feeling content with herself, knowing she said what needed to be said, and could kiss you whenever she wanted to.

she leans in to kiss you, but you stop her.

"what cmon, i can't kiss you now?" she said to you while rolling her eyes.

"you said you wanted it to be special right?" you grab her hand and hold it for a while.

"yes ma'am i did," she says, leading you out of the bathroom and back to the gym, where another slow song has started. she quickly rests her hands on your waist, your hands on her shoulders, as you two sway to the song blasting through the cheap speakers the school borrowed.

"god, you look beautiful baby." paige says, finally taking in all of your perfection. your hair, makeup, and jewelry aligned perfectly, fitting you so well, she just loved looking at you. before you two continue dancing, she pulls her phone out of her dress pants pocket, and while she does so you take a good look at her. she looks stunning. a black button up and black dress pants, a silver chain completing the look. she goes to her camera app, and you kiss her on the cheek as a pose for the picture. she snaps multiple and eagerly changes her lockscreen.

"i love seeing this beautiful face everytime i turn my phone on," she says, you roll your eyes out of her corniness, but it still makes you blush. you also take a picture of the two of you, and you update your lockscreen as well.

"and i love seeing yours, and plus, this button up looks a little too good on you," you tell her, making her bite her lip slightly.

she grabs your hand and twirls you, bringing you back in, your faces exceptionally close to one another. the slow song comes to and end, and paige takes one hand off of your waist to cup your face, and connects her lips with yours and utters the words that make you happy to have met her,

"i love you y/n."

"i love you too paige."

and for the first time, you knew you had a forever person, and that person was paige bueckers.

HEY BAD BITCHESSS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD I KNOW THERE’S NOT MANY HOPKINS FICS OUT THERE SO I WANTED TO TRY! i’ll try and be consistent with posting, just bare with me 🙂‍↕️ love you

tags: @rosemariiaa @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter

🫶🏽🫶🏽

the collage that “would’ve been posted”

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe

꩜.ᐟ Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Notes: I've seen fics abt padawan reader and none can quench my thirst eugh😫pls note i have nooo idea what goes on in the star wars universe please don't come for me😣

"Hand me that one, fast" He gestured to the purple fruit just beside you, not daring to glance at you. "Yes, sir"

You curiously peeked over your master as you handed the fruit, what was so important it had him rushing like this?

"It's for Mae," he says, the squelching fruit making you frown, you forget he reads minds as easily as breathing. Your frown deepens as you remember. Mae. His acolyte, he took you in a few months before Mae came, that first few months felt like heaven, it was just you and him, in this unknown planet, training, practicing.

Yet, after Mae came, it almost felt like you were some kind of servant for the both of them, he trained with her day and night, leaving you to fend for yourself, he told you it's because you've already been trained by him, that you don't need to anymore, you didn't mind, you got along with Mae... on your perspective that is.

Mae was a fast learner, you were proud of her, now you have someone to share your training with, converse like a normal person, but later you realized that him and her were two sides of the same coin, quiet, mute, they don't like conversations, although you made an effort to be friends with Mae, than you ever did with your master since she was the lesser evil, you're quite proud of yourself when your conversations with her turned from smalls nods and no's to simple phrases.

You didn't care that your master had two Padawans under his belt, that is until he taught her some things he never even told you about, every now and then he would drop hints about what he would teach you next, to prepare you, but this one was unknown to you, you thought, maybe, maybe he forgot to tell you since he was so engrossed in trying to make Mae catch up to you, but Mae didn't just catch up to you, she had already passed way above you, while your stuck on the pedestal she was weeks ago.

"Something on your mind, little bee?" That nickname, he never once gave an explanation on why he calls you that. "No, uh, nothing.. master"

You focus on his muscles grinding the stone bowl.

"I don't think that's nothing"

"I'm fine, really." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Hm"

You blink, fiddling with the hem of your robes, you let a few seconds pass before speaking up.

"Why.. why does Mae need it?" He halted his movements, and right then and there you almost regretted asking, almost. "She's having nightmares"

He resumed his cooking, although his brief answer didn't provide you with anything, so what? You were having nightmares once too, and he told you to suck it up.

And as if he read your mind, which he did. "I don't want it to hinder her performance, we don't want any distractions during this time of her training."

What about my training? You wanted to yell at him, what about me? Why can't you make me one of your anti-nightmare potions too?

You could only clench your fists, making sure he doesn't hear some of your thoughts, which is hard considering he didn't teach you to, only Mae, along with healing your body by using the force, all her, and your left in the dust.

Your master said using negative emotions is the best fuel for people like them. Them. He told you, him and Mae obvi, you're nowhere near the equation, like an addition symbol in a multiplication question, makes no sense right? Because you make no sense being there when he clearly prioritizes Mae.

"—are you still listening?"

"I, huh," your eyes flutter up to him, frowning when he says nothing but look at you. A few seconds pass with only the both of you staring each other down, I mean, him staring you down with his creepy mask, he suddenly lets go of the pestle, the tool colliding with the mortar loudly.

He was now towering over you, and you realize then how big he was compared to you, it's like a dwarf next to a willow tree. (Guys no matter how big you think you are, Qimir is always bigger✋)

"I can't hear you, but I feel you" oh fuck, you forgot about that. "What is this plaguing your mind?"

Before you could answer, Mae comes running.

"You're back" He focuses on her, you let out a deep breath, for once your relieved Mae came in just a nick of time. "The ship's ready, master"

"Good, let's go" he grabs his robe from behind you. "Finish the potion before we come back"

"Whe, where are you guys going?"

"Nothing of importance, now go." He gestures to the stone bowl, his menacing helmet buzzing in your ears. "Yes, master.."

"Good girl." you couldn't hear his last few mumbles, only registering everything when they left the cave, leaving you alone.

-

You decided that you're gonna make an anti-nightmare potion for yourself too, because why does only Mae get it when you can make one in case you get nightmares?

And the best place to buy ingredients was with the best apothecary in town.

"Qimir?" You knock on the door. "I need to buy things for him, are you there?"

No answer.

"Hellooo?"

You pouted and turned around, now everyone's busy when you're not, you wanted to wait for a few more seconds but people might think you're crazy for trying to buy from an abandoned pharmacy, your master told you Qimir was there anytime you needed something to use for missions, but now that you don't go to missions, you love to annoy the clumsy pharmacy owner.

"Hey, wait!"

You tried to stop the smile creeping to your face when you hear the door bust open.

"I'm here!" He yelled, you turned around and waved, a big smile covering your face. "What took you so long?"

"What do you mean?" He playfully shrugged. "Been here since forever"

You felt more comfortable with him, you don't have to have to tiptoe around him unlike with the other, you liked to tease him about not taking a bath and for looking like a ragged hobo.

"What are you doing here though?" His eyebrows furrowed as you skip to him, you gave him a warm smile once again before making your way inside. "I need some things for him."

He frowned.

"Things? He didn't tell me he needed anything when they passed here."

"Well he told me, so go fetch it for me, servant" you chuckle and hit him on the bicep, he fakes a cry before hesitating to open the shelves.

"Here's the list of his majesty needs"

"His majesty?" He laughs, you just love making him laugh, maybe it's just you, or maybe you're just alone, but if there's anyone in the world you're going to survive an apocalypse with, it's Qimir.

"Uh huh, he keeps barking orders, finish this, finish that before we get home nyeh nyeh nyeh"

He chuckles once again. "Are you sure about telling me that? I might just snitch and get a promotion."

You feign an insulted look. "You don't dare"

"Oh but I do"

You both sat there laughing, forgetting about what you were here for. You clutch your tummy and struggle to inhale air.

"I can't— stop—" you burst out laughing once again, your face heating up, the tears in your eyes now brimming full.

"No no don't die on me" He jokes, you can see him staring, you wanted to look at him like that, shameless, but you can't stand looking at him for more than 3 seconds without blushing.

"Really?" He mumbles, but you heard him, clear as day. "What?"

"I, I mean, really h-huh? You can't stop laughing?" He waved both his hands in the air.

"You weirdo"

"Oh so now I'm the weirdo?"

"Uh huh"

"Since when?!"

"Since we met"

"Says the person who keeps barging in my shop"

"You like it though right?" You look up at him expectantly. "Like w-what?"

You gesture with your hands. "This?"

"This what?"

"You're always alone here, you must be grateful that I always visit."

"Yeah, always"

"What does that mean!" You put your hands on your waist. "It means you're always here, so you're like an everyday occurance by now"

You roll your eyes as he finishes up the list.

"Here's the last one—" you frown as he pauses. "What?"

"Isn't this," he picks up the list again. "It's for.."

You gulp, your fingers fumble with the wooden seat.

"N-no, no, it's not" you avert your eyes from him, the floor looking a little more interesting today.

"It's for nightmares isn't it?"

"I don't know, he only gave the list, nothing else."

"It is for nightmares, why do you need these?"

"I don't know, it's not for me." You clench your fists. "If it was for him he'd tell me himself"

Your eyes try to find something, anything, to tell him.

"I think it's for Mae okay? Maybe, maybe she's having nightmares and, and maybe he doesn't want it to distract her.."

"But I al—" he pauses, his jaw flexing. "I already gave him these."

His eyes narrow on you, like a deer in the headlights you could only look away.

"Tell me?" His soft voice lures you to him. "Are you having them?"

"No.." you sigh, do you tell him you're making the potion out of spite for your master? For making one for Mae and not for you, ugh it all sounds childish now, before you left you had a plan, and now you look like a child caught.

"Just—" you let out a deep breath. "Give it, and I'll be on my way"

He stares at you for a moment, before placing everything in a small pouch. You thanked him and left the credits on the table before hurriedly leaving, you could still feel his stare at the back of your head.

[thatnewweeb]

Baby Fever | My Hero Academia

Characters | Bakugo Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Toya, Kirishima Eijiro

CW | mentions of pregnancy, suggestive content, reader agreeing to get pregnant, kinda jealousy in Bakugo's, kinda pressure in Midoriya's (from his mom) but also wanting it too

A/N | I love the idea of the boys having baby fever (even though not all of these are them having baby fever), I just think it's so cute

Bakugo Katsuki

Deku was having a kid?!

Katsuki was stunned as he held his phone to his ear, listening to his childhood friend and perpetual rival talking excitedly about the news his wife recently gave him. His grip tightens on the phone as he listens to the green haired man on the other side of the phone gushing about how excited he is.

As soon as Izuku hangs up, he calls out to you, his own wife. When you walk into the room, he walks over to you quickly, long strides leaving him stood very close to you, his arms caging you against the wall.

The look you give as you look up at him makes him smile softly, biting his lower lip a little. He tells you the news about Izuku's first child being on the way, which of course makes you excited, happy for your friends.

"We should have a baby too," he smirks slightly, whispering into your ear. When you give him a surprised, slightly confused look, he smirks, leaning down to kiss you. "C'mon, babe. I can't let that bastard get that far ahead of me. Gonna help me keep up?"

There's no way you could possibly say no when he speaks and looks at you like that. There's no time wasted in trying, him immediately taking you to your shared bed. He can't let that bastard Deku get too far ahead after all, can he?

Todoroki Shoto

Shoto was never really sure if he wanted to have a child or not. He didn't have the best childhood, and he was scared that he would end up being a bad parent.

He was still scared of that, he couldn't deny it, but when you're cuddling with him on the couch, watching television, he can't help but consider the idea whenever a child actor comes on the screen.

This weird feeling had been following him for months now. He found himself doing things he wouldn't usually, resting his hand on your stomach more when you're cuddling, imagining you clinging onto him, heavily pregnant and somehow looking more beautiful than ever.

He had no idea you were also having these thoughts. You hadn't brought it up because you knew he was a little hesitant about the idea. You figured you'd wait for him to bring up the topic first so he doesn't feel pressured, but now, every part of your being aching for a baby, you know you just can't wait any longer.

On one of his days off, you walk up to your fiancé and tell him to put a baby in you. The look on his face is both cute and hilarious. Despite how demanding your initial request was, the two of you sit and talk for a while, getting both of your feelings out there.

When you both agree that you both definitely want a baby, you decide you'll start trying as soon as the wedding is over.

Midoriya Izuku

It had been 4 months since you and Izuku had gotten married in a beautiful ceremony in front of your family and closest friends. Both your groom and your new mother-in-law cried a lot.

Speaking of Izuku's wonderful mother, you were visiting her one day, as you and your husband typically do at least once a week. You absolutely don't mind doing this, I mean it when I say Inko is wonderful, and that includes to you. She fully welcomed you into her little family.

"So, when am I getting a grandchild?"

The question comes out of nowhere, Izuku choking on the water he unfortunately happened to be drinking. "Mom!"

"What?" she asks with a smile. "You've been married for a little while now, surely that's the next step, right?"

Izuku laughs nervously, glancing at you briefly and squeezing your hand. "We don't know when that'll be happening yet."

The entirety of the rest of the time you spend at Inko's home that day, he can't take his mind off what his mom said. He hadn't really even thought about it since you got married, content with his life the way it is now. Now an idea has been planted in his head.

When you're back in the car, driving back to your own house, Izuku interrupts you while you're speaking (he didn't mean to, he was just so deep in thought that he didn't even realise you were talking). He asks if you want to have a baby, and it takes you almost no time to say you do.

Todoroki Toya

There's nothing you could think of that triggered your baby fever. You just wanted a baby, and you wanted one bad. You know your boyfriend will be a good dad, even if he doesn't seem to believe it.

He doesn't seem to believe that he has any kind of soft side. The big idiot obviously doesn't realise the way he acts with you, and you know that he'll be similar with your baby.

He wasn't even considering the idea before you brought it up to him. You weren't exactly subtle about it either, practically jumping on him and telling him to give you his baby. The demand shocks him, but there's something about hearing it come from your mouth that made him want it, made him feel like it would be okay for that to happen. He trusts you, and if that's what you think is best and what you want, he'll give you that.

There is no time wasted, Toya happily spending the rest of the night making sure that you'll get his baby as soon as possible.

Kirishima Eijiro

Eijiro has always liked kids, he thinks they're just adorable! How could he not like them? Being a pro hero means that there are so many children that look up to him, and it isn't an unusual occurrence for him to be swarmed by young fans while he's on patrol.

The baby fever really kicks in for him when a family of three come up to him while he's out on patrol, an excited baby babbling in his mother's arms as he reaches out towards the hero.

The baby's mother explains to him that he's her son's favourite hero. He always smiles and babbles and points whenever Red Riot is on television. It goes without saying that hearing that makes your boyfriend's soft heart melt.

As soon as they leave, he decides he'll have to bring this up with you as soon as he gets back to you. He's known for a while that he wants a baby, but after that reaction, he knows he has to bring it up to you.

Of course, he does bring it up to you very quickly when he gets home after patrol is over. It's pretty much the first thing he says to you when he walks through the door, picking you up and spinning you around when you agree to start trying. He wastes no time in starting to try for a baby with you.

[yanderestarangel]

☆𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡

TW: Yandere themes, manipulation, daddy issues lightly considered, rough sex, non con, dub con, Daddykink, manipulation,age gap, reader is of legal age, nsfw, smut, blood, death citation, bites, bloodkink, Dark!Miguel O'Hara, vaginal sex, creampie, AFAB READER, Pet names, DILF! Miguel O'Hara.

You really didn't know how you ended up in that situation, your life turned upside down overnight.

You were a normal person, you had a best friend, a monotonous and routine life, always doing the same things over and over, repeating the days every week or month, but you liked it, it was your pattern. until Miguel O'Hara came into your life.

Miguel met you through an unfortunate coincidence, he was the father of Briella, the little girl you were hired to take care of and give tutoring in literature and grammar after college classes, you accepted because you needed money and enjoyed teaching the little girl but I had never seen her father's face, Miguel always left early for work which no one knew exactly what it was, he always tried to be punctual, not wanting to leave his daughter in your hands more than necessary so as not to bother you, but he had been late that day, and that's when it all started.

You taught Briella peacefully, a few books spread across the white marble table while you recited some tale by 'Edgar Allan Poe' requested by Briella herself, Miguel was an hour late that day, having been trapped on a mission in the Spider Society, fighting against another anomaly, but it took off running and throwing red webs home quickly.

Miguel composed himself as he entered the house, soon encountering you, your aura light and angelic even, your features, your body covered by the soft fabrics of your clothes, the world of O'Hara stopped there, he felt the heat in his chest, such warmth that he had not known that his Briella's mother and his late wife had died, but now you were there, before him, like a graceful and beautiful angel.

You could have sworn you saw two red hearts in the older man's irises, and it was strangely disturbing, Miguel's lower lip trembled with anticipation and desire, a desire to make you his, physically and emotionally, body and soul, every particle and The atom of his being, wholly O'Hara's, was his new life goal and he would do anything to get what he wanted.

You two spoke quickly and he apologized, trying to keep his composure and not do anything stupid in front of his daughter or scare you, but from that day on, your monotonous life wasn't so monotonous anymore, you felt someone watching over you, someone was around, you could feel it and it was awful.

Miguel also strangely increased the time you were supposed to teach Briella, the problem is that every time you went, the little girl wasn't there but her father, Miguel, always with a warm smile but masked by something darker, something that slowly surface of the "Good single dad" facade, and soon you fell into his Perfect facade, to your bad luck.

Miguel started giving you very expensive gifts or extra money, even if you denied it, he always said the same sentence.

"-Don't worry mi carinõ, that's nothing, you are an angel in my life and my daughter's." - Miguel would speak with a smile of white teeth and a little shaky as he watched your body and face.

𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒂𝒏

𝑨 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖<3

Soon the manifestations of possession would start, mainly manipulation, he would talk like a "concerned father" because you are younger than him, but in reality he would just use some of his mental and family instability to bring you into the web of possession it, especially if you have Daddy issues.

He will love to know that.

He'll be everything you want him to be, he'll start taking care of you, calling you "My good boy/girl" every time you do something nice or warm to him and Briella, complimenting you on how you look, asking if you ate or remembering how important you are, even if they are Miguel's genuine concerns, he will also use this to manipulate you and keep you close, you are his after all, even if you don't know it yet.

Bonus: he would force you to call him "Daddy", "Papi", "Papito" or "Sir" as a form of respect (But he knew it was for his own satisfaction, as a title that marked that you were his to him do whatever he wanted, you were his to own and keep, you are the love of his life whether you like it or not.)

Miguel will also push any love interest out of his life, regardless of sex or gender, he is an influential man in the multiverse and powerful, both physically and in status.

He will manipulate you so much that you will find yourself locked in his mansion with a luxurious and comfortable room, with no access to the outside world, just him and Briella, Miguel will manipulate Briella into believing that you are going to be her new Dad/Mom, while smiling little girl believed tall mexican's lies.

"-Oh that was your boyfriend? I'm sorry dear/sweetheart, his muscles were no use after all."

-Miguel would speak with a malicious and psychotic smile with fangs dirty with human blood. You will never leave there and if you try Miguel will punish you severely, either with poison bites, paralyzing you for a few minutes.

Leaving sexual pheromones and making you writhe with pain and lust and you won't be able to touch yourself, with Miguel watching you with a malicious and cruel smile.

Or worst case scenario, fuck you mercilessly, he'll thrust his cock inside you without warning after lubricating it with a little saliva and his fingers, with all his strength, trapping your body underneath him easily, while you listened to the older man moan and growl words of possession as he felt his cock hit your uterus and rise in your womb, while Miguel growled.

"-You are... Fuck so tight... (Y/N) you should have just stayed quiet, why did you try to run away from me? Don't you like your Daddy Miguel anymore? Hm?" - Miguel would speak in a mocking tone as he struck harder, holding your hips and leaving painful marks on your flesh with the tip of his claws.

"-I'll fuck your fucking brains out if you keep being a shitty brat, just obey me and everything will be fine."

- Miguel would speak with a sadistic and cruel voice, while he played with your clitoris with strength and anger, while he continued to stick his dick in your tight pussy, a painful and delicious mixture, you couldn't take it anymore, it was the fifth orgasm of the night, but Miguel wasn't going to stop, he never was.

"-I would destroy everything for you and build everything again from the ashes if you asked me to, and you still say I don't love you?" - Miguel O'Hara would speak with a few tears of pleasure in his eyes as he came inside you, painting your pussy with hot, thick cum, biting your neck hard and leaving a painful trail of blood and vicious bites.

♡Some quotes from Yandere Miguel O'Hara♡:

"-I really don't think you should try to get rid of me. If you try again I swear I'll make them all suffer in front of you."

"I really would hate to hurt you but you don't give me any choice darling/dear."

"I finally found you. You are so silly aren't you? You really need a punishment."

"You can't run away from me my love. If you leave my side I swear I will kill anyone who tries to help you leave my side and I would kill myself in front of you."

"I adore you so much, I would literally rip my heart out and give it to you, kneel at your feet and kiss the ground you walk on."

[wileys-russo]

Hey could i request a fic?

Maybe one where teenreader who plays for barça or arsenal gets a nose piercing behind alexia or leahs back ?

just putting this in the same universe and reader as stuck tiny silver flash II barça femeni x teen!r

"there is one other place i wanna go!" you piped up as jana had her car keys in hand, both her and bruna's arms laden with shopping bags as you motioned for them to follow you.

"pollito is this going to take long? i think my arms are going to fall off!" bruna groaned as you rolled your eyes. "nobody told you to buy half the clothes in here bru, sounds like a you problem." you quipped making jana snicker and her best friend kick at her with a scowl.

"what are we doing here? are you getting a hair cut?" jana questioned with a frown as you stopped outside a local salon. "oo you should get bangs! or dye it pink, or blue, or purple, or red, or-" bruna started to ramble before jana's free hand covered her mouth with a sigh.

"not exactly." you smiled innocently as both of their eyes narrowed. "why do i get the feeling we're being dragged into one of her little trouble making schemes." bruna mumbled to jana once her mouth was freed again, jana nodding tiredly in agreement as they both continued in after you.

"wait here, i won't be long." you promised as a worker guided you off and out of their sights. "should we have let her go off with a stranger? is that bad babysitting? was that responsible?" bruna questioned after a minute had passed, jana just shrugging as the two of them took a seat just outside the store on a bench in the middle of the shopping complex.

though when you finally resurfaced it confirmed her question that yes, this was in fact bad babysitting.

"dios mio what is that in your face pequeña!" you rolled your eyes as jana dropped her bags and hurried over to grab your cheeks, turning your head left and right with wide eyes.

"its just a nose stud compañero!" you brushed off both her and bruna's fussing. "how did you do this? did you forge someones signature?" jana questioned again in disbelief. "fraud is a crime pollito, you could go to prison!" bruna added on with a gasp as again your eyes rolled.

"relájese! está bien chica's. you have to be eighteen for a tattoo, sixteen for a piercing." you corrected with a grin, having been planning this for awhile now.

"they are going to kill you so i hope it was worth it pollito." bruna sighed and she didn't have to drop a name for you to know exactly who she was talking about. "i will hide it till it heals, then if they make me take it out it will not close, ningún problema." you shrugged carelessly.

"but you cannot take it out for a few weeks while it heals, sí? what about games? training? you also live with capi!" jana asked, crossing her arms and staring down at you with narrowed eyes.

"engaño." you smiled patting to your shopping bag full of makeup, patting them both on the cheek and striding off toward the exit.

"dios mio jana i was right. she has dragged us into one of her little schemes! estamos tan muertos." bruna moaned throwing her head back and dragging her hands down her face.

"hey! listen to me amiga." brunas eyes widened as jana balled her top in her fists, holding her tightly and yanking her forward so they were nose to nose, the fear obvious in both their eyes.

"the story you posted today? delete it. the ticket for the parking? burn it. the new clothes you bought? hide them. nobody can ever, ever, ever know we brought her here bruna. vale?" jana warned sternly as bruna nodded frantically and her best friend let her go as they hurried after you.

"oye, compañero i think this might be worse than when we got her and vicky drunk at bowling and they threw up everywhere." "imbécil! bruna what part of 'never speak of it again' do you not understand??"

~

you'd managed to keep your secret for a whole whopping two days by the time training rolled around, which was a god given miracle considering you lived full time with your hawk eyed captain.

careful makeup blending and a flesh colored band aid you'd cut into a tiny circle had served well to hide your new addition, making sure to keep alexia at arms length so she couldn't get close enough to really look at you.

though she was so busy preparing for the weekends match and all the media that came with the el clásico it wasn't hard to slip under her radar for once.

but there was one person you worried might be able to see through your attempted deception, and of course she was the first person you ran into that morning at training, considering she had a nose piercing of her own.

trusting you enough to find your way to the change rooms once inside alexia had left you to your own devices as she hurried off for a quick meeting with all the captains, as was tradition the last session before a game.

"bon dia pollito!" you tried not to tense as aitana appeared beside you, having parked a few cars down in the lot from alexia. "hola tana." you greeted her with a smile, quick to snap your head back forward, grateful she was on your left side and the hidden stud on your right.

the two of you made small talk about your days off as you wandered through the training complex toward the change rooms, the girl of course taking every opportunity to tease you were shorter than her, something that was not very common for the midfielder in a team full of leggy spaniards and scandi's.

but as you turned to push her away and she tried to grab you in a headlock, you gave yourself up by accident.

"espere." the smile dropped from her face and you deflated as she grabbed your jaw, tilting your head back and immediately spotting the backing of the stud in your nostril with a small gasp of surprise.

"tana!" you whined trying to pull away as her grip tightened and she shook her head before letting you go. "estúpida, is this new?" aitana questioned, sending you a warning glare not to be dishonest.

"maybe." you mumbled, giving her a smile as charming as you could muster as she hummed and went to walk off. "don't tell anyone, por favor tana por favor! i will do anything." you zipped around to block her path and begged, clasping your hands together.

"anything?" "anything, promesa! just do not tell, especially not alexia." you pleaded desperately. "vale pollito, i will keep your little secret." aitana started as you breathed out in relief.

"but, for a price." aitana smiled and the twinkle in her eyes had your guard up a little but you knew she had you against the ropes. “and what’s that?” you asked albeit apprehensively.

“no more messing with my things, no more letting mapi mess with my things, no more waking me up on the bus or the plane or the train with the ‘oh tana im bored entertain me!’, no more kicking the ball at my head or the back of my seat, no more squirting water at me and no more giving me the finger with the ‘oh look tana a bird!’. vale?” the older girl raised an eyebrow sternly as you nodded rapidly.

“vale, vale, vale. gracias!” you sighed in relief, squishing her in a hug as she chuckled and patted your back before you let her go, the two of you resuming your walk to the change rooms.

entering the change rooms you flashed a few smiles around as you sat at your cubby, pulling off your trainers and stashing them away as you rifled through your training bag trying to find the medical tape you knew was in there, your ankle a little tight today.

"bon dia pequeña mentirosa." a body dropped next to you, mapi grinning and kissing your cheek as you gagged jokingly and pushed her away, her locker next to yours.

"stop that. i will do it!" mapi rolled her eyes at your attempts to tape up your ankle, pulling your leg up onto her lap as you handed the tape. "something troubling you pollito?" mariona dropped down on your other side with a concerned frown.

"no, just a little tight today." you shook your head as now both older girls gave you a look, mapi strapping up your ankle. "está bien. if it feels off at all i will go see the physios, happy?" you looked between them as they nodded, mario messing up your hair and heading off for the pitch.

eyes roaming around the now half empty change rooms you caught aitana's eye who was talking with keira, and judging from the very slight narrow of the english womans eyes as they studied your face for a mere second or so longer than normal, you knew right away what they were discussing.

you shook your head at the midfielders, aitana sending you an apologetic smile and hurrying off before you could say anything, dragging keira along with her as you prayed to the high heavens both girls kept their mouths shut.

"what?" mapi chuckled seeing the strange look on your face, finishing up your ankle and glancing over her shoulder to try and see what you were looking at. "nothing, gracias maps." you smiled, pulling your leg back down.

"ingrid!" you called out to her girlfriend who was passing by, the norweigan raising an eyebrow as you held up a hair brush and smiled charmingly. "you could not have asked alexia at home?" ingrid chuckled as mapi kissed her cheek briefly and headed off to the pitch.

"alexia cannot even do her own hair, takes her about half an hour to slick it up into a ponytail." you rolled your eyes as ingrid started to brush through your hair, a comfortable silence falling between both of you as the rest of the team slowly filtered out.

"the baby can't do her own hair? awww." lucy teased, playfully kicking at your ankles with a grin as you tried to grab at her but winced as ingrid tugged on your hair in warning, still halfway through braiding it.

"oni!" you called out to your friend who turned around. "your girlfriend needs her leash and collar, she's acting out again." you sniped, lucy squaring up to you before ona rolled her eyes and pulled her away, chatsizing her quietly as lucy sent you a menacing glare as you gav her a fake scared face.

"you need to stop hanging around with maría so much liten, she is a bad influence." ingrid tapped your shoulders as she finished your hair. "she's your girlfriend!" you laughed as you stood, tucked into her side as the taller girls arm draped across you.

"i know, and every day she gives me reason to question why." ingrid sighed as you bumped into her. "no way, you two are so in love its disgusting." you gagged as ingrid playfully reached round to pinch your cheek.

"you will be in love one day liten, and i will be sure to remind your future partner that you think love is disgusting!" ingrid teased, letting go of you as you both smiled and gave a good morning to the social media admin filming the training arrivals.

"how do you know i'm not in love now? or that i will need a future partner?" you gave her a cheeky smile as her eyes widened. "are you-" you'd raced off before she could ask her question, the girl yelling after you that this conversation wasn't over.

"hola!" you launched yourself and near took jana down to the ground, her hands grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up into a proper piggyback with a grunt.

"i was thinking things were too quiet pollito, i was hoping you were sick and we might get a day off from babysitting." jana sighed dramatically as you scoffed. "babysitting! you need babysitting not me." you accused making her chuckle.

"i have to say pollito, you did a good job. if i did not know that you had the stud, i would not notice." bruna marvelled as jana promptly dropped you and grabbed the pair of you by the shirt, dragging you away from the rest of the group.

"what part of we do not speak of it did you not understand? nobody can know we took her there or that we knew about the stud!" jana warned bruna sternly who huffed and tried to pray her hands off her top.

"and you will not tell a soul we knew about it amiga, vale?" jana turned to you now, letting go of bruna and raising an eyebrow when you didn't speak, a roll of your eyes and a nod following.

"perfecta. remember compañero's, when in doubt; deny, deny, deny."

~

now your makeup and band aid combo may have done the trick for training, nobody batting so much as an eyelid of suspicion toward you.

but what you hadn't accounted for was your teammates being...themselves.

case in point; the water fight which broke out after training was finished.

you didn't think much of it at first, ducking out of the way of mapi's attack and launching your own on cata, laughing as patri and pina used you as a human shield, spraying lucy and mario over your shoulder as you copped the brunt of their own counter attack.

"vale! that is enough for today." alexia yelled out over the squabbles, though there was a hint of a smile on her face and you hadn't missed her spray her own bottle at a few of the younger girls when they weren't looking.

distracted by the feeling of your now soaking wet training top clinging uncomfortably to your body you snatched a towel off mapi, drying your face and arms and not giving it a second though.

that was when there was a tiny silver flash as your stud caught the sun and all hell broke loose.

"what is that?!" "a piercing?!" "who did that to you?!" "what did you put in your face?!" "you put a hole in your skin?!" "who said you could do that pollito?!"

your eyes widened at the questions fired at you one after the other, shrinking into yourself and starting to back away as the older girls advanced, mouths moving at rapid pace.

"don't you dare!" paños grabbed the back of your collar, snagging you as you tried to bolt, a hiss of pain leaving your mouth as alexia grabbed your ear next, dragging you inside and all sorts of angry spanish leaving her mouth.

"sit!" alexia pushed you to sit down at your cubby, flanked by ingrid, paños, irene and frido all glaring down at you. "when?" irene asked sternly as you huffed. "when what." you tried, the stony glares causing your stomach to flip.

"acting cute won't get out out of this one älska. the truth! now." frido warned sternly as you sighed, catching a few of the younger girls watching on curiously, but they all scattered as alexia met them with a hard stare.

"i got it on monday." you answered, looking down at the ground and pulling one knee to your chest, picking at your laces. "where?" alexia asked sharply. "a hair salon." you shrugged still refusing to look up but feeling their eyes burn into you.

"why?" ingrid questioned next. "looks cool and i can." you mumbled with a roll of your eyes. "don't you roll your eyes, drop the attitude." alexia warned as you huffed and mocked her quietly under your breath, whining as her hand smacked the back of your head.

"that hurt!" you rubbed it with a scowl as she now rolled her own eyes. "cannot have hurt more than putting a needle through your face pequeña." irene added on with a scoff as you fell silent again.

"i think it looks badass pollito." pina piped up from a few seats down, paling at the looks it earned her and hurrying over to hide behind patri.

"sí i agree, makes her look tough. which is hard with this cute little baby face!" mapi cooed as she appeared now, pinching your cheeks and admiring the small stud with a nod of approval that had you grinning.

"maría! stay out of it." alexia barked as the girl rolled her eyes, one of the few who wasn't scared (most times) of your fierce captain. "why? she is sixteen now. i had ear piercings at five!" mapi brushed off the issue ignoring her girlfriends eyes baring into her.

"ear sí, not face!" alexia scoffed crossing her arms across her chest. "its not like i got a forehead piercing, so dramatic." you muttered, shrinking and shuffling across a little closer to mapi at the glares which met it

"would you like to say that a little louder?" ingrid sent you a challenging look as her girlfriend wrapped an arm around you. "leave the nena be, it is one little stud. relajarse!" mapi waved them off again.

"who took you to get it nena? you do not drive." paños asked firmly as you couldn't help but let your eyes flicker briefly to jana and bruna who were frantically shaking their heads and waving their arms about. "deny, deny, deny!" jana mouthed at you.

but all it took was that brief millisecond for irene's head to snap around, catching both younger girls in the act as they froze. "you went shopping with the idiotas on monday!" alexia realised as now her head snapped around.

"we didn't know she was gonna do it we took our eyes off her for like a minute and she came back with it! promesa!" bruna blurted out as jana winced and smacked her hand against her forehead.

"you are the worst secret keeper ever!" jana hissed, both of them sprinting off as paños and irene chased after them. "you are taking it out älska." frido stated bluntly as you frowned. "no way!" you protested with a shake of your head.

"yes way. we can do this the easy way or the hard way älska, your choice." the swede warned as alexia and ingrid hummed their agreement and seeing them start to advice mapi's arm left you and she slid slowly away.

"mapi!" you gasped as she darted away. "traitor and a coward!" you yelled after her as she made a heart with her hands and hid behind lucy who rolled her eyes and pushed her away.

"easy or hard nena, choose." alexia warned firmly as you shook your head. "its not coming out, i paid for this!" you decided firmly, standing and holding your head high, hearing a few of the other girls whistle and shake their heads at your words.

"you get her legs, i get her arms, ale takes it out." frido instructed, all three girls nodding as you attempted a getaway, trying to climb up and over the small retaining wall of your cubby but being promptly dragged back down and restrained.

"did you even wash your hands! this is unsanitary alexia i could get an infection!" you yelled trying to squirm away but with no luck as alexia held your head still with one hand and you winced as with one little twist she'd plucked the stud from your nose.

"when we get home i'm searching your room for any other studs and they are being flushed down the toilet. get your bag!" alexia warned as you kicked away ingrid and frido with a scowl. "you're both on my list." you warned seriously, cata and salma oooohing at your words.

"you don't scare us liten." ingrid laughed unbothered, frido mirroring her expression with a smirk. "remember when mario lost an eyebrow? she was on my list." you spoke calmly, packing your belongings up.

"or when pina's cubby had that awful ant infestion? or patris car tyres kept magically deflating? also on my list." you slung your bag over your shoulder, smiling at the somewhat apprehensive looks now present on the tall scandis face.

"adios, traitors." you patted their shoulders as you passed, following after alexia. "pollito are we still on for-" mapi fell silent as your head whipped toward her. "you are also on the list, maría." you warned calmly, narrowing your eyes.

"i helped you create that list!" mapi gasped in disbelief. "sí, and now the student has become the master." you pointed at her menacingly, alexia growing impatient and grabbing you by the straps of your bag hauling you out of the change room.

"vamos pequeña, stop threatening everyone." alexia chuckled dragging you out with her to the carpark as you waved goodbye to a few of the staff, the older girl amused at how quickly your demeanor changed.

"they were not threats, they were promises." you huffed with a deep frown, kicking at a rock. "are you going to be moody and pouty all afternoon over a tiny little stud? estúpida." alexia cooed as you glared at her, sliding into the now unlocked cupra and tossing your bag in the back.

"do you want to be on the list ale?" you warned, shrinking at the fierce glare which it rewarded you with. "discúlpame?" the blonde asked scarily calm with a raised eyebrow. "nothing, lo siento." you mumbled sinking into her seat as she smirked and started up the car.

"buena nena, thats what i thought you said."

[koifsssh]

The Greaser Au!

(oh goodie! it's here!)

bwah, where to start?

long, long, long rambles below! (Beware!)

Wally! I'll start with Wally!

As you can imagine, Wally is the little leader of the group! Promptly dubbed after his last name, "The Darlings"! (how darling they are indeed!)

Wally had grown a fascination with the trend, though he didn't quite understand the need to act so tough and mean, so he decided to make his own group! (with the help of Barnaby!)

Motorcycles, catchy tunes, being free on the road is something everyone should enjoy! So who cares if you're big or small, or if you like the color pink? Anyone can be a greaser as long as they got a jacket and a bike to go along with it!

At least, that what he believes anyway!

Speaking of a certain beagle...

Barnaby!

Barnaby of course wanted to join in on the fun, and he very publicly advertised Wally's gang at his little comedy nights! (It did catch a certain blonde's attention!)

it did garner attention, with the way the beagle so affectionately told of Wally's endearingly comedic actions from their day to day life. Barnaby also helped Wally organize the entire set up, helping him get paint and base jackets for the painter to personalize! (He also suggested Poppy's diner as a hangout spot! He had it all thought out!)

Plus, it made his best friend happy! Who could ask for more? Well... maybe Barnaby would ask for a hotdog or two.

Julie!

Julie is a seasoned hair stylist! She owns her own hair salon! She's excellent at her job, however more often than not she gets a unpleasant customer.

Stress can pile up unfortunately, and when she attended a comedy show one evening she couldn't help but be ecstatic at such an idea of being free on the road. It felt like the perfect destresser!

Talking on the phone with Frank was great and all, but nothing compares to feeling the rush of wind in her hair... So she jumped at such an opportunity! And of course, Julie doesn't go anywhere without a certain frowny bookworm!

Frank!

Frank is an entomologist! (and a part-time librarian during the summertime!) A dream job really, but every dream comes with its hurdles! Similar to Julie, Frank found themself stressed. Usually books were able to decompress them, but lately they've been growing frustrated, the one thing they hate the most is incompetent writing!

It took a lot of convincing to get Frank to even consider the idea of being a greaser, let alone get on a motorcycle... but Julie can be very insistent when she wishes to be! Not even a week passed before they begged Julie to stop her nagging, but in exchange they had to at least go with her once on a motorcycle...

how mortifying.

However! the thrill of being on the open road at a high speed was something they never knew they needed! Needless to say, after that, they were hooked!

Sally!

Sally was the last member to join! and she took her spot quite quickly!

Sally had been in Poppy's diner when she saw The Darling's walk in, she was in awe! Colorful motorcycles? Matching jackets? They all looked marvelous! The star couldn't help herself when she walked up to them, simply starstruck at such a group!

They all looked to be having such fun... she wanted to take part!

When Sally asked if there was a spot left for her, Wally softly smiled at her and stated, "Anyone and everyone can join!"

She was content that day, and from then on, it really was the best group of friends she could ever ask for!

---

whew! im done!

(this is my second time typing this... i had lost it all the first time. bwah. but it's here!!!)

im quite happy how everything turned out! I think i'll use this as a master post of sorts, just so you don't have to dig through my stuff just to find anything specific!

I'll leave Poppy's & Howdy's explanations here! (Just know those designs are old! All the designs in this post are the ones i will be using!)

Poppy's Diner!

additionally! I will give you everyone's closeups!

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

✨️Bodhi durran ✨️ that's it.

BUT ALSO

Imagine him being the most amazing boyfriend. I don't know if you have seen lockwood and co on Netflix but that scene where lockwood dresses Lucy's wounds and is looking dead ass deep in her soul smiling, my god bodhi material.

To get to my point if you could write a one shot of bodhi finding out you're injured and going ballistic to anyone that let her out of their sight and got hurt and then finding you trying to wrap your wounds and instantly going all soft and helping I would be forever in your debt

Ps. If you haven't watched lockwod and co it's absolutely worth it.

I haven't watched the show so if this isn't exactly how you pictured this, I apologize✨🤍

Worries

"Where is she?", Bodhi yanked onto one of the recruits, who was in the same formation as you, shirt up. The poor lad looked like he was about to shit himself at best as he stumbled over words. The thing was... Bodhi was fun and games until he wasn't. And that wasn't part come a lot sooner than expected. Considering that the past weeks of him being a section leader had been rather calm. But that sorry fuck just had to show off. Had to break formation. Had to try to prove his piss poor ego and get you hurt.

"You're speechless all of a sudden?", Bodhi shook the guy in his grip, "Answer the goddamn question before you end up like a roasted chicken on the solstice table". You could hear a pin dropping in the background that's how silent the squad had gotten. "I think I saw her entering the building", some other recruit cut in. Bodhi narrowed his eyes, "You think or you saw?", shoving the quivering male he stepped aside sizing everyone up.

"You weak shits better listen and better listen well", he practically growled through gritted teeth. His first instinct was to run after you. He saw the blood gushing from your hand after the coalition. But he also knew his title. Causing a bigger scene than necessary would only turn heads your way. And neither of you needed that. Neither of you wanted to become a target leading to one another. "If any of you will ever do anything similar to what Marco did today", Bodhi grunted. Gods, he felt like Xaden. "I will skin you myself and believe me your dragons will smoke you alive. Dismissed", he practically roared as the recruits hurried away. Bodhi ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair.

"She is up in your room", the voice made Bodhi jolt slightly. Garrick was leaning against one of the pillars. "I passed her, she's fine, man", Garrick continued to speak since Bodhi just stood there, "You did well here too. More and more like our beloved Xaden every day". He knew it was a dig. The two cousins had been compared ever since their interactions were brought to the daylight. "Why don't you go fuck yourself", Bodhi grunted as he walked past his friend. "Gets boring after a while", Garrick chirped in return. Bodhi simply snarled but that of course earned a satisfied chuckle from Garrick.

"Show it to me", the sudden bag of the door practically hitting the wall and the raised voice made you drop the blood-soaked rag. You knew Bodhi was gonna find you eventually. Your dragon was practically counting the minutes for you ever since you had flown back first and dismounted. "Bodhi, it's okay", you tried to keep your voice calm. The wound wasn't all that bad it was the angle and the damaged tissue of the skin that caused it to bleed so much. "Don't you it's okay, me", he grunted, "Show me", his voice was lethal low. He never used that tone with you. It was his section leader's voice. The voice he gave a report in. But it never was showcased around the people he trusted and cared for.

"There's nothing to look at it's...", "I didn't ask, I gave you an order", he cut in, grabbing your upper arm gently so he could look at the damage himself. Bodhi's eyebrows knitted together for a moment, his jaw flexed. "Sit", he muttered motioning towards the bed. "Bodhi", you breathed out. "Baby, I swear to everything holy to me", he exhaled a shaky breath, "you either sit or I am carrying to the healer's wing and will put you on bed rest for a week". You huffed at his threat but you knew that he wasn't bluffing so you followed his orders.

Bodhi was so gentle as he carefully wiped away some of the blood before pressing a clean bandage on your cut, securing it in place. Make sure it's tight for a couple of hours before the bleeding slows down. He would redo it in a couple of hours. Wash it off with a salve he would go ask for. Then another bandage. Then... "Bodhi, I can hear you making plans in your head", you muttered. It was cute watching him fuss at times. It was his way of showing love but you also knew that his head was a wild space and it only took one bad thought to have it all spiraling out of control. "Does it hurt a lot? Do you need something for the pain?", he asked, his concerned eyes searching yours. "Start by giving me a hug and then sit down with me", you said softly, "I promise, I'm fine". You reached out for him, taking his hand into yours, squeezing it.

"I just hate seeing you hurt", Bodhi breathed out, his shoulders drooping. "The feeling is mutual but there are times we can't do anything about it", you reached to run your fingers through his messy curls. That now was completely out of control since he no doubt had been pulling at them. "Do we have a murder scene in the backyard?", you nudged your boyfriend's shoulder, making him snort. "Not yet but we might...", Bodhi exhaled, turning to face you.

"You promise you're okay?", you met his worried gaze but this time instead of answering him you just leaned in and kissed him. Slowly and tenderly. Letting him feel your love. "Good enough proof?", you asked when you two finally broke apart. "Not sure... maybe a couple more kisses", Bodhi thoughtfully nodded his head. You giggled slightly before cupping his face once more.

[chosos-mascara]

all my love, suguru

chapter 5

summary: after an unexpected night spent with your close friend, you find yourself pregnant, and unable to tell him so. will you be able to come to terms with this news, or will it destroy the delicate relationship you’d had left?

chapter warnings: mentions of declining mental health (suguru), general angst, secret pregnancy/child

masterlist

⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆

30 months before

"I have something I wanted to talk to you about." You're watching him at his desk as you walk into his classroom, closing the door meekly behind you. The sickness coupled with this anxiety is overwhelming; exhausting. You're roughly ten weeks along, your first scan recently booked for two weeks time, all while Suguru is none the wiser to your current condition.

He's grading papers from a recent mock exam, and it's apparent he's much more interested in the stacks before him than you as his eyes barely rise, the red marker still between his fingers. You sigh. "Suguru, did you hear me?" He looks up from the reports, bags dark beneath his eyes. You pause in your actions as you mull over his expression. "Are you okay?" There's that concern you had for him that night, back again. You wonder if he realises that, too. Or perhaps you were only procrastinating by creating some sort of conversation, though it's better to open with something like this, isn't it?

"Sorry, what's up?" Suguru acts casual, but he can't deny that your visit is just adding to the mounds of stress he feels in this moment. He doesn't have the energy to pour into conversation, he can barely read these student's scrawny handwriting. "I was wondering if we could talk?" You begin to walk closer with some hesitance, stopping at his desk. He looks up at you, and finally puts that pen down.

"What about?" He's nervous. "Well, I just..." You trail off, your chest heavy. Your hands are shaking, even with one placed over the other. They're clammy, and god, you feel so sick. "That night, when we..." Again, you're not able to finish your sentence, instead averting your gaze to the wall and swallowing. "Listen," Suguru stands, and when you look back to him, you frown. "I don't think we should pursue anything." 

You stand in silence for a few moments; he's completely missed the mark. Raising your hands, you shake your head, trying to gesture to him that this wasn't what you'd intended, but it's lost on him when he continues.

"It was a misjudgement, I didn't consider how this could impact our lives, and for that I apologise." You stare wide eyed. You couldn't tell him how yes, this really has impacted your life, because you realise now how wrong this would go. This truly was a secret you'd have to bring to the grave, because you're sure he'd never speak to you again either way.

"You're right, I'm sorry." It's weak, and all you manage to push out.

Suguru feels reams of guilt when he watches your head bow, hearing quiet, defeated words from your lips. He's lying to himself if he truly believes this is for the best, because no one makes him feel quite how you do.

He replays that memory most nights, wondering if he should have given you a chance - he didn't even let you get a word out before he was pushing you away. He spent years wishing he'd done something different, wondering if anything would change if only he'd had opportunity to speak to you again.

He thinks of that memory when he's walking to Yaga's office, opening the door to be met with you.

Suguru thinks he's finally lost it, because why, after two and a half years would you be here, sitting at Yaga's desk like you'd never really left? His hands are brought upward to rub into his eyes, and he blinks once, twice, squeezing them closed before finally focusing back upon your seated frame. You're definitely there, you're definitely real. 

Suguru hadn't even noticed the child sat to your left until moments later, a small doll between her hands, her hair worn in a short ponytail. He doesn't linger over her presence for long though, because he's drawn back to you.

The door had clicked open moments ago and you had prepared yourself for Suguru's berating, though seconds tick by, and no words come. You're still sat in silence beside your daughter and opposite your old boss after a minute's pass, still an empty seat at your right. You know he's shocked by his hesitance to enter, but the suspense is only twisting the knife embedded into you upon his entry. In this limbo, you're left to ruminate on every doubt that had grown over the past few years, on every bad decision you've made leading up to now. 

Finally, after a minute or so of deliberating, Suguru decides to discern the reason for this meeting, and uses his curiosity as encouragement to come and sit in that empty chair.

You've no alleviation from his stare even when he's seated. He's taking you in, the new you, the mature you, still contemplating his sanity as he wonders if you're just a fragment of his madness. There's still an internal struggle while he wonders why you're here, and what this could possibly have to do with him. Suguru does manage to voice a few words through his turmoil, ever downplaying his mental state with his relaxed tone. 

"I thought you left jujutsu society?" 

His voice still feels like honey in your ears, his presence beside you causing your skin to prickle with cold, goosebumps breaking the surface. Eyes that had been glued to Yaga's desk finally lift, and you turn your head to face him after all of this time. Brown eyes greet you, purple bags weighing the skin down. The glint of hope that Suguru could forgive you begins to ebb, your lips tightening. 

"I did." Your answer rings true, at least. Your eyes falter when you can't take his gaze any longer, instead averting to sit at his lips, then shoulders. He looks the same as always, but his aura feels different. There's sombreness to him now, and you blame yourself for leaving. 

"Should we begin?" Yaga clears his throat uncomfortably, and you're reminded of his presence. You nod with deep reluctance, removing your sight from the man that still holds a place in your heart. "Geto," Yaga begins, and you focus on your breaths. This is it, it's really happening. "You're being assigned a special case; a new student." He gestures toward your Keiko, and Suguru leans forward so he can look past you, his emotionless expression interrupted by disgust. 

"She's a toddler?" His disapproval is thick. "Yaga, are you insane?" Suguru remembers the last person assigned to his care, and her untimely death. This was no world for a child, it was barely a world for him, either. Everyone seems to get on with their lives after witnessing tragedies, and he still doesn't understand how. He has never been left unscathed by the things he's seen, but he's sure to handle those massacres better than a child who would stand at his knee's height. 

Yaga peers to you behind his glasses, and you can feel the luxury of your silence ending. 

"She's at risk if she doesn't learn to harness her cursed energy." You speak, praying for his compliance. "I don't want her to get hurt, Suguru." 

Suguru stares at your expression, looking up, and down as he processes your words among the many racing thoughts he houses. Who was this child to you, why would you care? But after all these years he's brewed upon his actions, paired with the fact he can stare into you and see nothing but kindness and care, his objection merges into something else. 

He doesn't speak, but he doesn't have to, because you've already seen it on his face. He'll help. 

"Thank you." Your words of gratitude are genuine, and they're spoken to him with care. It feels a bit like you're the only two people in the room, studying the other with a sense of longing. He swallows back the old feelings that are trying to push through, and turns to face Yaga once more.

Throughout this meeting Suguru glances to that girl, a question pushing the back of his mind. Who was she to you?

Keiko's in bed when he knocks. At first, you're spooked by the sound and your cursed energy is focused into your fist, though looking through the peephole eases your fears. Your flame dissipates, and you open, not sure what to expect from your night-time visitor.

"What're you doing here?" There's a small dip in your voice. "It's late." You try and mask your unease, though he's able to read you like a book.

"That evening, before you left - what were you going to tell me?" 

When you look closer you realise Suguru's hair is loose, strays floating out from his bun, a redness at his ears from where he'd been toying with the lobes. It doesn't take you long to realise what he's referencing, and you open the door wider. You have to accept your fate, that it's now, or never. "Come, take a seat." 

Those are words Suguru didn't want to hear. Since your meeting, he's been asking himself the same question, who is this child? And why should Suguru of all people be summoned to teach her, when he's sure Satoru would've not only volunteered himself, but been better at the job in every way? 

Then he thought about her hair colour, and how he didn't get to catch her face. The timelines, the fact she's staying with you - the pregnancy test. He kicks himself for not questioning you at the time, and for dwelling over these surely disconnected details, until he thought to that afternoon, when he shut you down with haste. He thought about your body language, and how stupid he was to assume that's what you were going to suggest, how self centred he'd been the entire time. 

He sits down quickly with his heart feeling about to leap out of his mouth, a warmth coddling his ears. 

"A few weeks after we slept together, I realised I was late." You start from the beginning as you stand opposite him. You can't look at his face, arms crossed, you stare at his feet. "I wanted to tell you that evening, but you made it clear you didn't want anything else, and I got cold feet." 

His anxiety fades, morphing into a feeling he can't quite place his finger on. It might be that in this moment, Suguru can truly say he's experiencing heartbreak, and the repercussions of his own actions. If he'd have just checked up on you, things would've gone so differently.  "I have a child?" He speaks slowly, unsure of himself. It doesn't feel like it's sinking in, those words don't feel as if they are describing his own life.

"She's yours." Your confirmation sends prickles over his skin. Your things are still mostly in boxes, though there's a photo you've already set out beside the TV, one that you pick up and hand to him. It's you and Keiko, taken on her 2nd birthday. You'd had to celebrate alone, but you decorate anyway, a big '2' balloon within the background. She's smiling, her baby teeth showing while cuddled into your side. It'd taken a while to get a good photo with her, standing your phone on the couch and using the timer function, though after a few you had come out with this one. It was perfect. 

Suguru holds the frame between his fingers, looking at the little girl beside you. She looked a lot like him, the same eyes, the same shade of hair, but she housed your smile. Tears clouded his vision as he wonders how he's missed out on two years with someone he should've been there for, he's missed so much already. 

"Why did you come here?" Suguru asks, a warmth rolling over his cheek.  "She inherited your technique." You swallow. "A few weeks ago, we came into contact with a curse, but before I was able to exercise it, she ingested it, just like you. A few days after that, she was witnessed by a grade three, and we were called upon by the higher-ups." 

"I never wanted this for her, Suguru. I just wanted to watch her grow through normal means - I know it was a lot to wish for, but she's my baby. I can't bare to picture her dead in some ditch after they rinse her of everything she has." 

"I'll refuse to teach her." He's desperate through his tears, mind racing. "Then they'll just find someone else. There's really no point, unless you're really adverse."

"Why couldn't you have just told me?" He talks as if his words are sapping his lifeforce, and you only watch as he slumps forward, heartbroken and confused. That guilty feeling has hit a new high. "Same reason you shut me out after that night - I was scared, and decided it was better to leave than to face what we did." It's wrong to defend your actions, they should be unforgivable. But, Suguru doesn't seem to put much energy into his disgust with you, because he's just too upset. "I've missed out on two years of my child's life, that's not the same." His hands shake, whether it's rage or distress, he can't tell.

"I'm so sorry." You bow your head, ashamed. "I was so scared, please forgive me." Suguru looks up at you, a heavy breath on his lips. It's not as if you hadn't tried to tell him; he'd practically shunned you. It wasn't fair to give you all the blame, even if it would save his sanity. "Do you wanna meet her?"

"Keiko, baby." She's clutching a small bear against her chest when she walks through the door, rubbing her eyes. The small girl's brown hair is a little messy, and she's still in a pair of cutesy pink pyjamas. "I want you to meet someone." You voice to her slowly while holding her little hand, your heart racing. There's no textbook answer when it comes to difficult parenting decisions, and uncomfortable situations. How do you tell a two year old they have a father in which they've never met?

Suguru's reluctant to look at the doorway when he hears you two coming through. This is the biggest moment of his life, meeting his child, his heartrate reflects this in it's unforgiving pace, his breaths leaving him before he's ready to breathe back in. He'll have to count down, he thinks, to force himself to look at his kin - there's no way he can surely meet her eye otherwise. Five seconds and he'll look, four now. Three, and he's sweating, shaking at two, swallowing harshly before he counts one, eyes forced from their spot over the floorboards to flicker up at the little girl standing at her mother's side.

God, it feels like nothing on this planet has ever mattered to Suguru, because in those brown eyes, there's so much innocence. He can feel his heart melt as he recognises so much of himself in her, his DNA, used to build such a perfect daughter with the cutest version of his character. Her huge, wide eyes, cute roundish nose - but her lips are all you. 

This child is a part of him he didn't know existed, a jigsaw piece melded to fit right within his chest. There's some kind of primal urge to protect her at all costs, to hold her closely, which is why Suguru finds himself at his knees with open arms in search of her comfort, to have his forbearing body embraced by his entire world. A child he'd never known is suddenly the key to his happiness, because she is everything he isn't.

"Hi." He wants to say more, yet a million words couldn't describe how he feels. Suguru can't decide on what to say, so instead settles with that small greeting. She smiles at him nonetheless, and you watch as his eyes soften, a smile over his lips.  "Hello." Her voice is small, much like her stature, and she's still sleepy. Suguru puts a hand over her shoulder, and you find yourself overcome with a grin you can't hide. Despite your anxieties, you know Suguru will love her as much as you do.

"Remember I told you about your daddy? This is him." You're gentle, and you're not sure she'll understand entirely, only seeing that family dynamic on films and tv shows. You'd told her a few times she has a daddy, though she's never seemed all too interested beyond that confirmation. Though she stares at him wide eyed, a smile growing over her cheeks. 

"Daddy!" She repeats, and Suguru has to stop himself from breaking apart at that name. When he'd felt hopeless, weak and depressive, so many times he wondered if his existence would ever improve. Whether he'll be anything more than a sorcerer for jujutsu society to rinse, toss into battle and bury when things grew too difficult. He's grown to be Satoru's friend and not much more.

But with this child before him, he sees some form of light. There's a reason for him to keep going, because he doesn't want his girl to feel anything he's endured. He looks to you for the first time since laying his eyes on her, to your watery eyes, and his heart feels disgustingly full. This is what he's been missing out on. 

a/n: sooo this is it. i hope it met your expectations, honestly i really wanted to put more into this ending and i feel i could've done better, but life has been such a whirlwind as of late. i think this is the last post i'll make before finding myself on a hiatus, so think of this fic as a semi-good-bye. thank you so much for all of the love i have received, it truly means the world!

tags-

 @hojoslutoru  @itztamar @magey0412 @strflp  @kaeyakaikai @animeisforkings @emikisses @boredwithwrath @karazorel7 @tomiokasecretlover @mrsoharaa @magey0412 @thisbicc @aemiliabruno @zenys @sukunaspillow @caixgee @ssetsuka @pinkpunkdynamite @harlamarie @cephei-ea @dazailover1900

[apocalypseornaw]

Very Unexpected

Sam Winchester x Reader

Follow up to Unexpected

Sam has his soul and now his memories back. You've been avoiding what happened between the two of you but with Dean's meddling the two of you finally face it.

You moved through Bobby's safe room, listening to the music flowing from your phone as you did an inventory list for him to see what all was there and what needed to be stocked up. You told yourself you were doing these small tasks to help Bobby but in reality it was to avoid a certain long legged hunter that was upstairs.

Every time you looked at Sam you felt a mixture of guilt and shame. Why hadn't you realized just how wrong he was when you'd spent days sharing a bed with him? Why had you been stupid enough to think it meant something? Of course he never would've crossed that line with you had he not been soulless.

Backing him and Dean on that Arachne hunt and seeing just how many women Sam had bedded in that town alone made you sneak away to the nearest clinic at the first chance. Luckily you tested clean. Why hadn't you at the very least made him use a condom?

What was worse than before when he didn't have the memories of his “gap year” as you and Dean had deemed it, was knowing he had his memories. What must he think of you? Especially considering he hadn't even attempted to mention it.

A few weeks had passed since he got his memories back and Cas healed the crack in his psyche. Unfortunately you and the boys had also started gravitating towards Bobby's any time a hunt wasn't going on so there was a lot of overlap. All of you were welcomed at Bobby's whenever and you loved seeing Dean, he was your best friend but seeing Sam made you feel so much you didn't want to.

—----------

A tap at the open door had you spinning around to face whoever it was. Dean stood just outside the doorway with a small smile “You need any help sweetheart?” You shrugged, he hadn't had an easy time either. He'd lost Lisa and Ben thanks to Samuel Campbell but that was an entirely different story.

“Want to check ammo?” You asked and he nodded “Yes ma'am”

The two of you fell into a silent rhythm and pretty soon the inventory was done and your excuse for avoiding Sam was gone. You stood outside the armory, resharpening a machete and Dean watched you for a second before nodding towards the ceiling “Something wrong between you and Sammy?”

You hung the machete up before cutting your eyes at him “Not that I know of, why?” He leveled you with a look “How many years have I known you? Plus I practically raised him” You shook your head “It's nothing important Dean. I promise. I think I'm just feeling guilty for not telling you he was back sooner”

He nodded but you knew he didn't fully believe you but you also knew he'd let it go for your sake “You know you can tell me right? Want me to kick his ass? Cause I will” you laughed “No ass kicking needed” he grinned “In that case, I was thinking movie night? Pizza and we make him and Bobby watch all the horror movies we love” you felt a smile slipping onto your face “Now you're speaking my language Winchester”

Sam heard you and Dean coming up the stairs and tried to act as if he hadn't been standing at the top of the stairs hoping to catch you alone for a second to talk. That seemed damn near impossible. The only time you weren't glued to Dean or hovering around Bobby was when you went to the bathroom,showered and slept.

—------------

He needed to talk to you about the memories from those days he spent with you in his arms that were driving him insane. From the moment he woke you up with you,Dean and Bobby hovering he'd known from the way you looked at him something had happened between you and him.

Then when that Arachne case had come up and he started connecting the dots of the women he'd slept with he could feel a wall slam up between the two of you and he'd had a feeling then what had happened. The wall came crashing down, memories flooding him of everything he'd done the year he was soulless along with memories of torture from the cage.

—----------------

Funny thing was that clinging to the memories of you helped him from getting completely washed under. The way you'd looked at him, the way you felt, fuck the way you'd tasted. It was everything he'd wanted for so long and never gave in to.

Once his memories had been restored and the crack healed he'd hoped you would bring it up, want to talk but instead you'd become scarce. Hell this was the first time in almost a month he and Dean had been at Bobby's with you for longer than a day without you hitting the road.

The two of you made it up to the hallway and you froze when your eyes met his but only for a second before you schooled your features and smiled “Movie night Sam. We're going on a snack run. Any requests?” He shook his head “I'll take whatever”

Dean rolled his eyes “Yeah we know Sammy” you laughed at the underlying joke considering Dean had been giving Sam hell about in his words “All the pent up years came out and he decided to whore it up soulless” if only Dean knew..

“I'll grab something if I think you'll like it” you promised then followed Dean out the door.

You were ordering the pizzas in the kitchen so Dean took the opportunity to bump Sam “What's up with you and her?”

Sam looked towards the kitchen then the stairs where Bobby was in the shower. “They're both busy. Now spill” Sam let out a breath “I don't know” “Bullshit. She tried telling me that. I have to let her by with a few white lies but c'mon man. It's getting hard to be under the same room as you two. Did you have a fight or something?”

“Or something” Sam scoffed and knew the moment Dean's eyes widened “You didn't” Sam groaned burying his face in his hands “I did. About five months after the fight between Lucifer and Michael”

Dean was quiet so Sam cut his eyes up at him. After a minute Dean shrugged “How was it?” “DUDE” they both glanced back towards the kitchen at Sam's outburst but you were still talking to the pizza place.

Dean looked back at Sam “You've had a thing for her for years. Oh she's so beautiful. She's such an amazing hunter. She's so smart. What's the issue?” Sam scrubbed a hand down his face “I spent three days fucking her around the same time I fucked my way through a town?”

Dean grimaced “Shit, wait three days? Didn't know ya had it in ya Sammy” he almost looked proud but then he looked back towards the kitchen “I've been making jokes” Sam nodded and Dean grimaced again “Fix it. Talk to her. We're all we got. We can't lose anyone else”

After the pizza was delivered Bobby ate then went to bed leaving you, Sam and Dean in the living room. You were curled up on one corner of the couch with your legs across Dean's lap as you watched nightmare on Elm Street.

Sam was in Bobby's recliner and didn't really seem to be paying attention to the movie but you could feel his eyes on you every now and then.

—----------

After two movies Sam stood up “I'm heading up” you looked from him to Dean “What about you?” Dean shrugged “We got two more movies sweetheart. They always tap first”

You both bid Sam goodnight then Dean started Candyman. After a few minutes he paused it and laid a hand on your ankles “Can we talk?” You raised an eyebrow “You're currently talking” he gave you that look so you grinned “Sorry. Go ahead”

He tilted his head, his jaw clenching and you knew he was trying to think of a way to approach whatever it was. You kicked your legs against his lightly “Just talk” he looked towards the stairs “He told me”

It took you just a minute to register before you were pulling the hoodie you had on up to cover your face, a groan escaping you “Why did he tell you? It's not that big a deal. We had sex a couple times. That was apparently nothing to him during that time”

Dean moved to pull the hoodie down so he could see your face “Ever think maybe you were before Arachne town? Or ever think maybe he had a thing for you before then?” You shook your head slowly “No, he didn't Dean. I mean yeah we kissed a couple times but that was it. What happened between us with him not having his soul…it was like a supernatural mickie. He didn't want me he just wanted a release”

“Or being soulless meant he wasn't worried you'd turn him down” you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and chewed it for breath before releasing it all the while really letting his words sink in. He never lied to spare your feelings. That was why you two were so close. “When did you get smart Winchester?” He laughed “Oh I just act this way sweetheart. Now please talk to him, he's doing that pouty thing and it's pathetic”

“Now?” You asked and he nodded “I'd bet clearing bodies solo on the next hunt he's still up” you shrugged “You're on” and shook his hand before throwing your legs off his lap and heading for the stairs.

Sam laid across the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it slowly moved around. You would barely talk to him, no matter the fake smiles and niceties he knew was your effort to appear to act normal. He had no idea how to fix this if you wouldn't be alone around him.

He heard someone step on the creaky board in the hallway right before there was a knock on the door. “Yeah Dean?” He called out expecting his older brother to pop his head in but when the door cracked open your face came into view “Can I come in Sam?”

—--------------

Sam's eyes widened and you saw about a thousand emotions flash through them as he sat up, throwing his long legs off the bed. “Yeah, um sure, of course”

You gave him a slight smile as you shut the door behind you and walked over to the steamer trunk that was next to the bed and sat on it to face him. Once you were sitting down he ran a hand through his hair, something you knew was a nervous thing.

“Something wrong?” He asked after a breath. You slowly raised your eyes to meet his and smiled a bit more genuine “I think you know what's wrong. The damn elephant in the room is just going to keep growing if we don't talk about it”

—---------------

Ok, this was it. You, talking to him about what happened. So many different worries went through his mind at once. What if you hated him? It was clear you regretted it. A flash of you underneath him, body nearly folded in half as he slammed into you went through his mind and a brand new worry took front and center. What if he had hurt you?

He was a bigger guy, in strength and other areas as well. Fuck, why hadn't he considered that before now? He looked down at his hands, staring at them and god help his traitorous brain all he could think about was how they'd looked on your body, wrapped around your neck.

“Please tell me I didn't hurt you” he finally spoke. When he slowly raised his gaze you were watching him, a look of confusion on your beautiful face before you laughed, a short bark of a sound “You mean physically? God no Sam. Even soulless you asked before you did anything and checked in with me more than once to make sure I was enjoying myself”

That was a relief but you'd said no to physically meaning he had indeed hurt you. You took a deep breath before continuing “Mentally it messed me up. I wanted to believe it meant more to you than it did. Years of wanting you… then came having to hide it so I wasn't the scratch at the wall then Arachne town happened and I was slapped in the face with the reality that it'd truly just been sex to you. Amazing, mind blowing, toe curling, wet dream inspiring sex but still just that”

“Mind blowing huh?” He teased and you rolled your eyes, a smirk slipping onto his face “Of course that's what you'd hear out of that” he patted the bed next to him “Come here, please”

—------------

You took a deep breath then walked over to sit next to Sam, leaving enough room you could turn to face him with your legs tucked under you. You picked at the little ducks that were on your lounge pants, funnily enough you'd stolen them from Dean's laundry basket.

One of his larger hands came to cover yours and the other went to your chin, forcing your head back very gently so you had to look him in the eyes “Can I be completely honest?” You nodded “Sam, you've been my friend for years just tell me”

He smiled “Those three days were the best of my life. Those memories kept the ones from the cage from winning out. I've wanted you for years, you're beautiful and an amazing hunter and everything I could ever want in a woman”

“Everything?” You asked with a small smile and he nodded “Everything” his eyes slipped down to your lips then back up “It meant something to me too. I don't care who else I slept with when I was soulless, you're the one I would want to spend the rest of my life with. You're the one who knows me inside and out. You're the one who has been a constant in mine and Dean's lives. Always popping up when we need you and I know had we not lied to get you on the other coast you would've been front row fighting against Lucifer and Michael too. You're sitting here in ducky pajamas and a scooby doo shirt and it's taking every ounce of strength I have to not kiss you right now”

—----------

You couldn't believe your ears. It was everything you'd wanted him to say and more. “Are you sure?” You asked and he dropped his head forward, pressing his forehead against yours “Baby what can I do to prove it to you?” “Kiss me” you whispered and that was all it took.

He surged forward, cupping your face in his hands as his lips met yours. The kiss was bruising and hungry, the gentleness of his confession overwhelmed by the want you both felt for each other, memories of the nights spent in each other's arms charging the kiss.

Once the need for air pushed you away from each other he kissed down your jaw, turning your neck to give him access to more skin. His hands moved to your hips tugging forward until you crawled into his lap, straddling him.

The grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you down against him, rolling his hips so you could feel just what a kiss had done to him. He leaned back to look up at you,keeping one hand on your hip he used the other to push your hair back out of your face “Those other women were after you. When I woke up and you were gone I wanted to chase after you but Samuel was there and even soulless I knew I didn't want you anywhere around that man. It's been torture being so damn close to you and not being able to touch you, seeing you so relaxed around Dean and so tense around me. If you'll give me a chance, give us a chance I can be a good man. I can love you and protect you and never let those doubts worm their way into your head again”

You bit your lip and for a moment wanted to make him wonder but your resilience was only so strong. “I can give us a chance” the smile he gave you was so damn gorgeous it made your heart flip. You rolled your hips down against his and smiled innocently when his eyes got darker “We're at Bobby's. Dean's downstairs”

“Then I guess that's your job to keep me quiet then huh?” He grinned at your words “That you asking me for something princess?” Any other person would've gotten hit for calling you princess but from Sam? Christ it made heat roll through you “Lock the door and show me you want me”

He groaned lightly and moved you from his lap. Before you could blink he'd locked the door and was back at the bed, kneeling next to it and pulling you towards him. “I'm gonna make you feel good sweetheart but no matter how much I love the way you sound we gotta be quiet. If you get too loud I can't make you come”

You clenched your thighs together at his words. Fuck, the effect this man had on you. “That ok baby?” You nodded and he shook his head, hands on the waistband of your lounge pants “Words baby” “I'll be quiet Sam I promise” he grinned “Let's see if you can keep that promise"

[billwidoll]

The Roman Empire

_____________________

You never believed in love at first sight, and you didn't even have hope but in love, because you were dying inside. You had a disease called Respiratory Cancer. It was killing you, and you were just an 18-year-old girl who was dying at the hands of cancer. But there was a day when you met him....

Your cancer arrived when you were seven years old. And since then, you were never a normal girl, you didn't go to dances, you didn't go to the beach, and you never had a boyfriend, your life was Hospital.

On the other hand, Rafe believed in love, he was in the best phase of his life, and that was a fact. he was dating a beautiful girl, had a stable job and was also doing an internship at McLaren hospital.

"Y/n I want to introduce you to intern Rafe Cameron"

Doctor Grey, enters the hospital room with you lying in your bed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n" Rafe says with a smile and shaking your hand.

When your eyes meet Rafe's, you get unexpected butterflies in your stomach, and Rafe feels his palms sweat as he waves to you.

"hello Rafe, welcome to my journey to death"

You speak with a sarcastic smile and Doctor Gray gets angry with your jokes

"You're not going to die y/n, that's enough, okay?" The doctor says authoritatively, "well, Rafe, you will be y/n's assistant and help her in everything she can, okay?"

Doctor Gray is serious and leaves y/n's room, leaving Rafe and her alone.

"well...y/n, I think we're going to spend some quality time together, right?" Rafe says, taking a chair, placing it next to the bed, and taking a magazine right after.

"Shall we start working then? Turn on the TV for me, please"

You speak using your sarcasm and Rafe likes that, he likes your dark humor. He gets up and turns on the TV like you asked.

"what do you want to watch?"

Rafe asks looking at you again, and every time he looked at you he felt dominated by your gaze.

"hmm, I think I want to watch 'If you drink, don't get married'

You talk and Rafe is shocked that you like these types of movies

"good.. very good, I love this movie" Rafe says smiling at you and you smile at the comment

"Well, I think we understand each other now, right?"

You and Rafe agree, smiling and you dismiss the idea that he's not that horrible.

Two months later

"I brought you a gift" Rafe says smiling and showing a gift bag

You freak out smiling, you had never received any kind of gift again.

"oh my god! Oh what is it?" You speak with a huge smile on your face and getting comfortable on the hospital gurney

Rafe gives you the gift, and you quickly unpack it

Until you saw a book called "Roman Empire" that was the book you wanted from the time of the dinosaurs, but you never got it because it was no longer sold in the United States

"I like that?" Rafe says, a little afraid that you didn't like the gift.

"I loved Rafe!" You say jumping and screaming with happiness and hugging Rafe.

Rafe was very happy with that, he wanted to make you happy, after unfortunately Doctor Grey, he was going to remove him from his position and place him in another position, but Rafe didn't want that, he just wanted to be with You, Rafe already considered you part of his life and he knew he was important to you

Your parents only came to see you once a week, because of work, you had no friends, and your other relatives didn't care about your health.

"I have to tell you something..."

To be continued...

[lost-girl-2021]

Adopted Spider Headcanons (Metkayina Edition)

I've been reading fics where Spider's adopted by Ronal and Tonowari the past couple days and now I'm obsessed. The problem is that I mostly write angst and I really wanna read hurt/comfort, lol.

I feel like the typical/common way that I see Spider get taken in is basically him doing his little beach bum shit after everything and slowly getting adopted into their family. And I eat it up. Every. Single. Time.

Spider: *Building a campfire, roasting his own food* Ronal/Tonowari/Tsireya or Anoung: *Why is the Sully's adoptive son alone on the beach?* *Oh well, mine now*

I feel like Ronal would definitely be way at first, she's made it no secret that she strongly dislikes Sky People. But, I'd imagine that eventually, she comes to see him not just as a human, but as a child. And a child who is alone and in need of help.

Aounung would probably be the same. I have this idea of him giving Spider a hard time (after all the carnage/damage/dead people have been handled). Like, trying to mess with him as much as possible, just being an asshole. And then, maybe Spider goes under for a long time while Aounung is on the beach weaving or something. And, even though Spider has a mask and can breath underwater as well as he does above it, Aounung somehow forgot that and freaks, thinking the human has drowned.

Aounung tossed his half-repaired net aside, diving into the water. He whipped around, eyes catching on the mess of dirty blond. Pushing further, he grabbed the boy by the armpits, shooting to the surface and pulling the human onto land. He flipped him over, meeting confused eyes as he placed a hand on his chest. He was breathing fine, not even panting from being under for so—

Spider's mask glinted in the sun. Aounung was an idiot.

"Are you . . . okay?" The smaller boy asked hesitantly, making no move to sit up.

"You were under for a long time." He mumbled, pulling away.

Spider's face split into a grin. "Did you— did you think I was— "

"Quiet." He hissed, standing up. "We will never speak of this again."

Spider's laughter followed him as he stormed away.

I feel like with Tsireya, she would've immediately been all over him. Like, this is Spider, Lo'ak's supposed best friend. The human boy who acted just like he was Na'vi. It probably started mostly as curiosity, but I think that after seeing how the Sully's interacted with Spider, she'd be confused about his place, his family. If Spider didn't sleep in the Sully's marui, didn't eat with them— then where did he do those things?

Tsireya glided along the water, Lo'ak a few feet from her. "Why doesn't Spider stay in your marui?"

Lo'ak raised a brow. "Uh . . . I don't know. He lives with the humans, I guess. Always has."

"But . . . the humans left after helping Kiri. They have not returned."

"They . . . they haven't?" He cleared his throat. "I'm sure Dad has it handled. There's probably a new shack or something for him."

Consider Spider's mask running low and there isn't a spare anywhere. As a kid, he never was gone from the shack long enough for his battery to run low and during his time with the recoms, there were always spares in someone's pack when he needed it. Idk how long the masks last, but for my own sake, I'm going to say Spider got a new one the day of the battle and it lasted him about a week. Or maybe, he managed to pillage one as the ship went down so he's on his second and it's like two weeks or so.

I think that when he saw the little red light flashing, a small beep-beep sounding, that he'd probably be like a kid who forgot there was a test. He'd just panic. But, I imagine he'd also be scared to bother the Sully's by telling them, so he'd spend the next hour searching the village (discreetly) to see if there were any pilfered batteries or masks left behind when the humans visited. Let's say he has two hours from when the mask starts flashing to change it out. And where, oh where, does he wind up when he's got a half-hour left?

Spider was not panicking. Because, when a human panicked, they breathed faster and wasted more air. Norm told him that, so it had to be true. But, he'd checked everywhere he could think of and . . . nothing. There was no shack, no Norm or Max to run to before his timer ran out. No humans. Only him. And in a matter of . . . fuck, twenty minutes, he was going to die just like a human.

He sat slumped on the beach, looking out into the water and trying his best not to openly sob. He didn't want to die crying like a little baby. It was not working out well for him. At least, he'd have a good view when he died.

"Child? What is wrong?"

Spider flinched, looking up with wide eyes at the clan leader. He'd only talked to Tonowari once, when Jake had introduced him. Of course, given his spectacular luck, the man would find him when he was on death's doorstep.

With a sniffle, he held up his beeping pack. "It's almost out. Twenty minutes."

The man frowned down, grasping the device carefully. "And that is why you're so upset? Because, you don't wish to go into the village for a new one? Did something happen? Someone make you feel unwelcome?"

"There is no new mask." There was also no home to go back to. "That was my only one."

With a cut-off gasp, he pulled Spider to his feet. He marched the boy through the village and into what he recognized as the healer's marui. The Tsahik was mixing something, but she stood as soon as they entered.

"Tonowari?" She asked, stepping closer. "What happened? Is he hurt?"

"His mask, where's the spare?"

Wordlessly, the woman pulled a mask from one of the many baskets, easily connecting the tubing and turning it on. Like, she'd done it before. Spider had no time to ask why she had such a thing before she was right in front of him.

"Take a deep breath." She ordered, unlatching the straps of his mask before pulling it off. Just as quickly, the new one was secured. Spider hadn't even moved.

I think that even before deciding to adopt Spider, Tonowari and Ronal would probably make sure he had spare masks and check what food he could/couldn't eat. Like, as soon as they realize the Sully's aren't caring for him, they'd probably subconsciously take responsibility for him. Because, he was just a kid, really. And kids were clumsy and careless and needed help, needed parents. Anoung and Tsireya, despite being independent and skilled, still needed their parents sometimes. Let their mother do their hair and insisted on their father de-gutting their catches. And Spider— Spider is fragile. He's skilled and smart and quick on his feet, but he's a human surrounded by Na'vi. Not to mention, one wrong move and he's left with a cracked mask. And what if he eats the wrong food, mistakes one fruit for another and ends up poisoned?

This ended up way longer that I thought it would be, lol. But, I really love these types of fics and if anyone has any recs or wants to hear more, my comment section is open. XD

[ksnfangz]

EPISODE TWO — POLYAMOROUS COUPLE?

karaoke invites, date or no date?, hot basketball players and a jealous, jealous, jealous boysssss

You beam at the boy's note, fully content with the fact that the boy hadn't immediately shut you down. You chose to ignore the slight dig at your studying habits. Sunoo silently judged your giddiness as you smiled down at the crumbled piece of paper as if it were gold. " So I take it he's joining us tonight." Sunoo says currently doodling on his hand with a pen.

" Well not exactly! but he didn't say no." you replied tucking the note into your desk. " So are we supposed to wait all night to see if he shows up." Sunoo scoffs "Why couldn't he just give you a straight answer"

You shrug not at all bothered by Jungwon's indecisiveness you were just happy that he seems to be considering coming. Speaking of coming Sunghoon finally enters the class. "Rigged I tell you!" the boy shouts earning stares from his fellow classmates. " Hiw did Riki already make the basketball team when I've been trying to join since last year?" Sunghoon rants as he plops himself down into his seat. " I mean it isn't fair that he can just come into the school and already be a valued player!"

It was true, Sunghoon had been trying to join pretty much every sports team that the school had to offer, and the only one that gave him a chance was hockey since the boy was a very skilled ice skater, but Hoon complained about how he didn't want to turn a personal hobby into something competitive. Which you understood, but why the hell is he so obsessed with basketball all of a sudden?

" Maybe he's just as good as Heeseung and Jungwon! like Nabi said the other day." You claimed. " 1. Heeseung cannot be topped! I heard he's never missed a shot! 2. Jungwon is a team manager, not a player and Nabi never mentioned him." Sunghoon exclaims.

"There's no way he’s never missed..."

" That's so hot ."

" excuse me." You and sunghoon shout in unison.

"While I agree that Jungwon is hot I prefer to use the terms cute! or Handsome." you explain only to be waved off by Sunoo.

" I think basketball players are hot! especially Lee Heeseung and I wasn't referring to Jungwon he's like my brother." Sunoo says defensively. " I'm gonna go to the bathroom before class starts, be right back."

Sunghoon frowns. His eyes watched as Sunoo exited the classroom he knew the boy hadn’t really been feeling well today. Jealousy builds within the boy's stomach as he recalls sunoo’s earlier words. " You know what, I'm gonna be the best damn player on the team!" he states firmly.

“ dream on hoonie!”

"have either of you seen Ni-ki? he usually joins me for study hall but he wasn't there today." You ask approaching Sunghoon and Jungwon at their lunch table. Throwing your bag down without care not giving the two any time to respond as you rant about Sunoo leaving school early because he was sick. Which ultimately resulted in being alone and bored for most of the day when you weren’t with Sunghoon or Ni-ki.

Speaking of Ni-ki, over the past week, you had grown quite friendly with the Japanese boy. Sometimes help him study his Korean while he teaches you and Sunghoon how to play basketball and some Japanese. Though you’re positive he’s only taught you both curse words so far. Sunghoon recently received a detention after saying hello to his teacher is Japanese.

When the two boys shake their heads in response to your previous question a pout forms on your lips as you finally sit down at the table. “ I even brought him some Bungeoppang he says his mom used to make it all the time.” you say pulling out a small plastic container and grabbing one of the fish-shaped pastries for yourself.

“ you really can’t be away from him for an hour?” Jungwon asks his tone coming off a bit harsher than he expected. You look up at the boy confusedly before a teasing smile creeps onto your face.

“Aww is my jungwonie jealous? Don’t worry I have not given up on you yet! Ni-ki is my friend, I always miss my friends” you shrug ignoring the way Sunghoon rolls his eyes at your persistent flirting.

“ t-that’s not what– I’m not jealous … whatever.” Jungwon mumbled stuffing rice into his mouth hoping that the burning sensation in his cheeks came from the steam.

“ y/n-chan~” said an all too low voice.

“ Ni-ki! where were you? you skipped study hall you know you could get into real trouble for that.” You scold pulling the male to sit next to you. “ For your information, I was with the basketball coach he gave me an official schedule! we have a game coming up soon and I want you guys to be there.” Ni-ki says gesturing to the group. “ oh and Sunoo too, if he’s feeling better by then.”

“ We would love to come cheer on our star player! right hoonie?” You smile hugging Ni-ki's arm, Sunghoon sending you a knowing glare before agreeing to come. “ what about you jungwonie?”

“ I’m team manager I have to be there y/n.” Jungwon states coldly eyes locked into the way your arms are wrapped around the male next to you. “ Oh yeah! I almost forgot. Well, I’ll make sure to text Sunoo and let him know.” you nod mostly to yourself letting go of Ni-ki to offer him the BUNGEOPPANG you’d made for him.

“ Also Ni-ki we’re going to karaoke tonight! you should join us.” You say once again catching Jungwon's attention.

so it isn’t a double date …

“ As much as I would love to I have some studying to catch up on and my dad wants me to practice more.” Ni-ki replies politely declining the invite. You and Sunghoon groan in annoyance. “ come on Ni-ki you’ve practiced enough.” Sunghoon claimed with a mouth full of rice.

“ Exactly ~ all you’ve been doing is practicing and studying ever since you got here let’s have some fun.” You whine dramatically.

You were technically correct. When he wasn’t with you he was usually in the library studying or in the gym with his father. Also, the way you were currently looking at him and holding his hand made him want to immediately accept your offer, so he did. One missed practice couldn’t hurt.

“ Fine it’s a date, but you owe me! I’m gonna get in huge trouble for this.” the boy said taking some of the rice from your untouched plate. “ That’s okay if someone tries to scold you send them my way… I know a guy.” you whisper into the boy's ear causing him to laugh.

“ wait does that make us an official polyamorous couple?” Sunghoon asks earning a stare from the pair across from him. “ What he’s the one who called the group hangout a date yet I’m weird for wanting more reassurance on our relationship status?” Sunghoon exclaims lifting his hands in defense.

“ as if you’d ever let Sunoo near another man.”

“ says the girl who hasn’t let Ni-ki go since he got here.”

The sound of silverware clattering pulls your attention to the male across from you. Said male quickly dismissed himself leaving the table without another word. “ What’s up with him?” Ni-ki questions.

“ That’s just how he is you know. Kinda like an angry cat.” Sunghoon claims. “ A cute angry cat.” you correct.

“ here she goes again.” Sunghoon sighs. “ You know some people say i also look like a cat.” Ni-ki adds before the table falls silent.

prev . masterlist . next

a/n : sorry for slow updates and sorry for this shitty chapter!! school is kicking my ass as usual, it’s end of the year exam/ test season. || sorry for any spelling / grammar errors i’ll edit this later. enjoy!

Tag list : @aloloveswonie @soobs-things @yerisrev @gudkc @wonitten @jwonistic @kangseulgithegreat @icepshrince @hizhu @nyfwyeonjun comment or send ask to be added :) !! if your name is not tagged it means i wasn’t able to tag ur user, please check ur settings!

©KSNFANGZ. please do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works without permission!

[avatar-anna]

Idk if you like this concept but i can't stop thinking about harry with swiftie y/n who always sings London Boy to him. And likes to tease him about the fact that he dated Taylor

swiftie!y/n by @harrysfolklore is superior, but i did my best!

(also, i know london boy isn't actually about harry, he's just being a tease)

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“Hello everyone. My name is Y/n Y/l/n, but only because my boyfriend hasn't proposed to me yet.”

In the dim lighting, you could just make out Harry's figure at the back of the bar, where he promptly flipped you off. Laughing a bit, you continued.

“He told me we weren’t going home tonight until I got up here and performed, and while you are all a lovely bunch, I fear I am growing a little tired, so here I am.”

You and Harry were spending some time in Japan. Tokyo, to be exact. He'd just come off his first solo tour, and you both thought it would be nice to get away for a little while. He liked Japan, and you had never been, so it was perfect.

In the few weeks of being in Japan, you and Harry frequented a couple of places, one of which was a karaoke bar a few blocks from the apartment you were staying at. It was all locals and the two of you, but everyone was welcoming, especially when Harry started doing rounds of sake and getting on the small stage to perform here and there. You were content to watch, though Harry tried multiple times to get you to at the very least join him. And now that it was nearing the end of your stay, he was pressing a little harder.

So now you were on the stage with a microphone in your hand, trying not to look at anyone for too long.

“You got this, babe!” Harry shouted from his seat, resting his fingers in his mouth to blow a sharp whistle.

“Thank you,” you said. “This song goes out to my boyfriend, my London boy. And Taylor Swift, who I am forever grateful to for breaking up with my boyfriend so that I could have him one day, and I hope she'll follow me on Instagram one day so we can become best friends and dress up as Charlie’s Angels together for Halloween.”

You weren’t typically the kind of person that over shared, but it took a good amount of alcohol to get a microphone in your hands, and you tended to share a little too much about yourself when you were drunk.

Harry gave you a thumbs up as the music started, and since you called Taylor Swift “mother” on a regular basis, you didn't really need the words on the screen to help you along.

“We can go drivin' in, on my scooter. Uh, you know, just riding in London. Alright. I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal. And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey...”

It was safe to say that you loved Taylor Swift. You grew up with her music, each album speaking to the different phases of your life as you went through them. Her music, her lyrics, the stories she told...you just understood all of it, you felt understood by her songs.

Meeting Harry, falling in love with him, it was all chance. He came into the clothing store you worked at, and you only recognized him as the guy from that boy band who dated Taylor Swift (which you did not tell him until much, much later). But he took you by surprise. His hair was long and his smile was shy but kind, and instead of talking about clothing suggestions like you were paid to do, he asked about you, and you asked about him, and instead of walking out with shopping bags, he left with your number, and the rest was history.

You never really expected to fall in love with Harry. Honestly, you thought he would forget about asking for your number. But he texted you a couple hours after you met, and you stayed up almost all night talking about whatever popped into your heads. He made his interest in you quite obvious, so there was never a period where friendship became more, but you still considered him your best friend. You were just two young people in love and experiencing the world together, and you wouldn't have wanted anyone else by your side.

Harry knew now what a fan of Taylor Swift you were, courtesy of a night where you had a little too much to drink and accidentally showed him a picture of a teenage you dressed in a “You Belong With Me” costume at one of her concerts.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“So, you’re a fan, are you?” he asked.

“That might be an understatement,” you told him, crawling into his lap. “You should know, if I believed in hall passes...”

Harry bursted out laughing, throwing his head back as you giggled with him. You thought he might be put off by your love for your favorite artist, but when he sobered up, he kissed the top of your head and said, “Noted. I’m very thankful that you don't believe in hall passes then.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile. Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you...”

You were no performer, but you did your best, skipping between tables and trying your hardest not to sound horrible. You tried not to look at Harry too, because you knew he would be smiling no matter how good or bad you were, and you needed to make it through the song without getting flustered.

However, as the song came to a close, you went over to where he was and planted yourself on his lap, singing the last few lines just to him.

You could tell he was a little drunk too. His green eyes hooded as he smiled down at you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and his grip on your waist made it hard to focus, but you managed to make it to the end of the song before kissing him.

His lips tasted like alcohol and the lip balm he kept in his pocket at all times. You held the sides of his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing at his temples as the patrons of the bar applauded your big finale. Eventually you pulled away to give the microphone back to the person in charge of the karaoke machine, but Harry didn't let you get far, his arms circling around your waist and holding you close.

“Let’s go home,” he mumbled as the next person got ready to perform.

“Can we grab something to eat on the way back? That left me starving. I don't know how Taylor does it.”

Harry chuckled as he stood up from his seat, leaving a couple bills on the bar before taking your hand in his as the two of you walked out into the chilly night air. “I perform too, you know.”

“I know, but she has these huge dance numbers too. It must be exhausting.”

“Are you saying I need dance numbers in my performances now?” he asked, but he knew you were joking around. He was a close second in your list of favorite artists, and he was well aware of that.

You shook your head, shivering a little as the wind picked up. Harry pulled you close, resting an arm over your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his middle as you walked, pressing your cheek against his chest and savoring the warmth emanating from him.

You were both quiet as you walked down the street, content to just be next to each other. Until,

“You know I’m not from London, though, right?”

“Oh, I know. But Holmes Chapel boy doesn't have the same ring to it!”

Harry leaned down to brush his lips against yours. It was short and sweet and perfect, his most nudging yours as he pulled back just a little. “You’re right. I’ll have to give her a ring about that.”

“You have her number?”

[mpregandproud]

Isaac II (Part 4)

I can't complain that my rest period is being boring. Three weeks of bed rest and between my hot flashes, anxiety, late night feasts and the surprise of Sandra's pregnancy I am living this one full of surprises. If someone had told me that I was going to experience my sixth pregnancy at the same time I was about to become a grandfather, I wouldn't have believed it. And it wouldn't be the last surprise we would receive in the same period.

Sandra and Cal came home to talk to us. He apologized to us for making this mistake, still feeling very guilty “for having ruined Sandra's life forever,” as he put it. By the time the two of us came to see each other we had already spoken to Sandra, and she seemed more and more convinced every day that she wanted to try to become a mother, but apparently Cal had not processed the shock of becoming a father at 20 years of age.

It's normal for a guy who is in school, in the prime of his life, and a flirt, to feel like this is the biggest mistake of his life. But as Isaac told him, “sometimes from mistakes come the finer things in life.” The reality is that he and I got pregnant by mistake the first time… well, and the last time too. Without disrespecting the truth, Sandra was also a “mistake” for her mother and me, but I love her madly and if you asked me now if I would be willing to make the same mistake again I would say yes with my eyes closed.

Speaking about my pregnancy, it is growing faster than ever. At only three and a half months gestation, it feels like I'm almost nine months along. Of course, I'm not carrying just one baby, I'm carrying four. And if that wasn't enough, my husband is giving me enough food to feed our 16 children, including those I gave birth to years ago.

I've grown a beard and my hair is growing very fast. At another time in my life I would have visited the barber much sooner, or I would have asked Isaac to cut my hair, but for some strange reason this man likes me with a look that I consider unbecoming of me: fat as a cow and with facial hair. I guess this is synonymous with true love, loving someone no matter what they look like.

I've always wondered if I would be able to love him too if he looked fat like I do right now. I've never seen myself in that situation, but I drool over him no matter what he does, so I guess the answer is yes.

That week our youngest children returned from camp, so we had a house full of people again. The quietness vanished overnight, although as the summer went on they didn't spend much time at home either. Charlotte and Ivana partied a lot with Cristina, who also returned from her trip with her college friend. Svetlana, my sister's daughter, also went out with them. Dylan, Nate, Philip and Edward share a group of friends, so when they are not at their summer jobs they go out together to the movies or to a disco. My nephew Boris, my sons Jason, Ken and Bruce and my friend Lucas and Adam's son Daniel have made their gang since they went camping. Patrick and Lucas' son Isaac have become very close, so much so that they don't usually hang out with their brothers.

As for Sandra, she spends most of her day with Cal. I admire how well she is handling her pregnancy and how confident she is with everything. She has inherited that confidence from her mother that I was so enamored with in college. Shortly after talking to us for the first time to apologize for getting Sandra pregnant, Cal came home and asked her to marry him. He said that although he doesn't consider himself traditional, he thinks it's best for the baby if he and Sandra start a family. He told us that he had some savings after working since he was 15 years old, and that a year ago he had inherited an apartment in the village where they can go to live together. Although he had many doubts at the beginning, in a matter of days he seemed much more confident than Sandra with their pregnancy. He will be a good dad and a good husband.

She said “I do” immediately. I don't know if the pregnancy hormones have made her more in love than usual with her guy or if she was already deeply in love with him before discovering the pregnancy. Cal is physically gorgeous, a strong man who looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. I understand my daughter perfectly in this aspect. I don't know either if it's the pregnancy hormones or that Isaac still refuses to fuck me, but when I saw that man on his knees asking my daughter to marry him between our rose bushes I was about to run out and say “I do” myself. The hug I got right then and there from Isaac stopped me. Just kidding, as a father this moment was almost as powerful as when I was told that Sandra, my ex-wife had given birth and I had become a father.

The wedding-to-be became the talk of the town. The most handsome boy in town and the most beautiful girl together, as if they had taken this story from a movie. Although, in truth, in those TV movies the girl is not usually pregnant when they ask her to marry them. Long live love, but they are aware that an accident has brought them together. Holding my daughter's hand, he came to where Isaac and I were with our children watching the proposal and told us a phrase that made me love him even more: “I will take care of your daughter and I will make her the happiest woman on earth, I promise”. There are no romantic men like him anymore.

I don't think the next generation of our family will live up to Cal. Especially my son Patrick who is very uptight lately. Since returning from camp he rarely interacts with the rest of his siblings, he has had several arguments with Philip and Edward about things at camp that I don't quite understand and he is with Isaac jr all day long, who to him has always been his cousin, even though they are not really related nor do they share genes, since when I gestated them I did it with genetic material from Lucas and an anonymous ovaries donor. When Isaac and I agreed to be surrogate, one condition I set was this: not to share genetic material with the children I was going to gestate.

The situation worried Isaac and me, as Patrick is at that age where he is elusive with his parents. He had always been very affectionate when he was younger, but lately we haven't been able to connect with him at all. I guess it will be a matter of letting time pass for him to approach us again, but I don't know what to do.

The thing is, one afternoon, the day I entered my fourth month of gestation, Isaac and I were watching a movie quietly at home, while Patrick and Isaac were in their room when Lucas and Adam suddenly arrived. They were furious. “Where are they, get Patrick and Isaac to come in here and clear this up for us!”, he said showing us two pregnancy tests. I was stunned again, and that was one too many times in such a short time with so much pregnancy.

Isaac went to pick them up and brought them both into the living room. The look on their faces was one of knowing they had been found out. What's worse, Isaac showed us a third pregnancy test, also positive, just like the ones Adam brought in his hand. “You can see the surprises don't end,” Isaac said, as always trying to lighten the mood, although this time he looked very worried.

They both sat at the table together, staring blankly at the three tests on the table, while the four of us adults stared at them, waiting for an answer that didn't come.

“Can you explain to us what these are?”, I asked. ”I think it's obvious, Daniel, they are positive pregnancy tests. The question should be who is expecting a child?”, Lucas immediately cut me off.

Young Isaac mumbled something that none of us understood. “What did you say, speak more clearly, my son!”, said Adam who was still furious. “Both of us! Okay? Fuck, we're both pregnant! Shit!”, reacted Patrick. Isaac next to him burst into tears. My husband and I gawked at each other, as did Lucas and Adam. “What?”, the four of us asked after a few seconds of disbelief.

If there's one thing I love about my son Patrick, it's when he gets sarcastic. Do not misunderstand me, even if it gets on my nerves as a parent, I admit he gets very funny without intending to. “I'd explain the process to you, but I think you already know it. Especially you two”, he said, looking at us, ‘who have given us one example after another of how to get a man pregnant", Patrick replied.

“Patrick, don't make things worse,” my husband Isaac told him with a seriousness that is not typical of him, who is more inclined to defuse situations. Patrick looked at him angrily, because deep down he knew his father was right.

“We've liked each other for a few months now. In high school we started seeing each other on the sly. We know that a relationship between the two of us is like a scandal, since we were gestated by the same man. People think we're family or something, like those medieval kings and princesses who married their brothers, but everyone here knows the truth. At camp we were given a tent for the two of us, and that's where we found the intimacy we hadn't had earlier. One thing led to another and we ended up doing what you know”, young Isaac finally said. All the anger with which Patrick speaks contrasts with how clear Isaac II, as my sister once called him, is when he has to explain something.

“Is that the reason why you are constantly arguing with your older siblings?”, I asked Patrick, lowering the tone of the conversation. I know we were very insensitive before, so deep down I also wanted everything to relax, since the damage had already been done.

“Yes, partly yes, although they don't know anything about it. Turns out Edward found us fucking in the tent, and told Philip. They both gave us a hell of a telling off. We tried to convince them that we really loved each other, that we were serious, but they wanted nothing to do with it. They said that between cousins this is not right. And although they know perfectly well that genetically we don't share anything, they refused to listen to reason,” Patrick replied. I know my son and I know he was more angry that they didn't understand his relationship with his boyfriend than the fact that they got pregnant each other. He really cares about his boyfriend.

“What about the third test?”, suddenly asked Adam. We had all forgotten about the test Isaac brought in his hand, but there it was, on the table. If they had already taken two tests, why did they need a third.

“It's mine too”, Patrick said. “We both took the test at Isaac's house. We were so shocked that we needed to know if it could have been a false positive, so we were going to take another test to confirm it”, he continued. “That test is mine, and his is hid in a drawer in my room. Both positive, so there are no doubts. We are definitely expecting children”, he finished.

“16 and pregnant, looks like an MTV show,” Isaac apostilled. The two young men didn't understand the reference, but Lucas, Adam and I looked at my husband wondering how this man already in his 50's is able to blurt out these comments at this time. It's his trademark.

Go to Part 5

[bizaar]

Endless Summer ✧

Part 1: Our Lips Are Sealed

Cruel Summer Masterlist

- Next

pairing: eddie munson x afab!reader

warnings: sexual content (18+ minors dni), virgin!reader, mentions of drug usage, swearing, bullying, self-deprecation, masturbation (f)

word count: 10k

a/n: so I may or may not have been writing a few chapters of a semi-raunchy little prequel to Cruel Summer, this is the same babysitter!reader at the beginning of her relationship w/ Eddie - reader is hopelessly obsessed in a totally uncool, sweaty palms sort of way and Carol Perkins is the meanest girl in school.

Carol Perkins has been talking endlessly about … something, for the better part of the ten minutes it’s been since you sat down with your lunch tray.    

You aren’t exactly sure what about, because you’re not listening. You’re just sitting there watching her lips flap.    

You might have felt bad about that even as recently as last week, but somehow you can’t seem to muster the feeling today.

Maybe it's because you didn't get any sleep last night and your brain feels like its made of television static.

Maybe it has to do with the recent events that have more or less completely soured your opinion of your so-called best friend.

Maybe it’s just that her conversations these days are not exactly the stuff of edge-of-your-seat intrigue.

You're not listening to what she's saying, but a decent part of you is fairly certain in the knowledge that whatever she is saying is bound to have something to do with her stupid boyfriend.    

Tommy Hagan has been Carol’s singular topic of regular conversation for going on two years now, and you have been bored to tears for just as long. 

Tommy said this, Tommy did that, oh my god Tommy is so funny, Tommy Tommy Tommy.   

Tommy is fine, you guess, if you like snot-nosed bullies who never matured past age twelve.

If you like a guy whose idea of trying to divert attention away from the fact that he’s more into Steve Harrington than he is his own girlfriend is by stirring up drama, and feigning some kind of bullshit interest in you.

If you like a guy who calls you Princess like it's a slur and gives you a hard shove in the back like it's a sign of affection.    

Yeah… Tommy is so not your type.  

Then again, you never would have thought he was Carol’s type, considering her interests have always swayed more Han Solo than anything else — (see: The Empire Strikes Back poster she secretly has taped to the inside of her closet door) — but you know she would go to her grave denying it if you dared to remind her of it.

She'd probably try to take you with her if you did, so you don't, especially not today when you've left more than half your faculties at home in bed.

All you can manage right now is keeping your mouth shut and moving watery canned green beans around your lunch tray with a plastic spork.

Meanwhile, Carol talks and talks and endlessly talks.

You’re on probation with Carol after last week’s debacle in the quad, anyway, so you are not invited to chime in, even if you were listening.

You’re supposed to just sit there and listen to whatever it is she has to say and nod along dutifully without interrupting.

That’s your whole job here, nothing more, nothing less.

That's fine, you don't currently have the brain capacity for anything else.

Still, a bigger part of you than you are willing to acknowledge has started desperately wishing that Tina Burton or Nicole would show up and implore her to shut the fuck up.

Once upon a time, you might have done so yourself, but you haven’t been brave enough to speak so directly to Carol since the eighth grade.     

One too many times getting your head bitten off has conditioned you to wire your jaw shut and tune it out, for self-preservation's sake, which is exactly why you’d just stood there and took every bit of vitriol Carol had to give you that morning last week, like the good dog you are.   

Apparently, someone said something about hearing Tommy talking big in homeroom about some other thing that happened over the weekend at a party you didn’t attend.

Logic would tell you that Carol knows you weren't at this party because she gave you such a heinous amount of shit over it when you told her you weren't going, but logic almost never comes into account when it comes to things like this.

Carol doesn't care about the facts, she only cares about the rumor.  

It was suggested that you’d tried to cop a feel or something. Worse than that was how it was suggested that Tommy was into it, and she went nuclear.    

Not at him, of course.

Never mind that Tommy was the one spreading the rumor in homeroom, all that mattered to Carol was who he was trying so desperately to incriminate.   

Literally anyone else, and it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. If somebody had said that it was Vicki Carmichael or Tammy Thompson or Tina, Carol wouldn’t give a shit.

She’d throw her weight around, make a show of girlie dominance, there would be a very public spat, and that would be that.

But no, it had to be you.   

Why oh why did it have to be you? You imagine she’s asking herself the same question, and you’re not sure if your ears are ever going to stop ringing after the way she’d shouted at you, in front of God and Tommy and practically everyone in school.     

He just stood there watching it happen with that smug little smirk you hate so much plastered across his stupid face.

Everyone just stood there, even you stood there, staring helplessly at your sneakers, waiting for it to end. You were an island unto your own shame... until you noticed a pair of dingy Reeboks appear beside your own.     

“Good God!” A voice as familiar as childhood rang out, loud enough to slice through the air and silence Carol mid-stream.

Like so many meerkats, the whole school shifted and turned toward the intrusion, and like a knight in leather and patchy denim, there stood Eddie Munson.

At first, you couldn't believe it was him, or that this was even really happening.

He was just standing there, like it was the most natural thing in the world to butt in like this. Like this wasn’t the first time something like this had ever happened in the history of cool kids and losers interacting at Hawkins High.

Exactly where you fall on that spectrum was yet to be determined, but what was perfectly understood was that Eddie Munson had come riding in to rescue you from the dynamic duo that is Tommy and Carol.

They were speechless — Eddie was not.  

“What on God’s green Earth is making that awful racket?” He said loudly – theatrically – and then he turned his blinding attention to you, “Sounds like someone’s skinning a cat out here,”

Then, he gave you a gentle nudge with his elbow, like you were old friends and it was some kind of an inside joke, as if you were supposed to have any idea what that meant.  

You stared back at him, wide-eyed and still too stunned to speak, and he winked at you.

You have no idea what you said following that, if you even said anything at all. You're pretty sure you blacked out.

You don’t even remember what Carol said. You know there was some kind of vicious back and forth that occurred between them before a staff member eventually arrived to break up the huddle and cart Eddie off, and you know that Carol was pissed that you didn’t defend her.

Most of all, you know you’re still paying for that imagined slight with a concentrated cold shoulder from most everyone you know a full week later, but you can hardly make yourself care about being so summarily iced out like that.    

Because Eddie Munson stood up for you.

You still can’t wrap your head around that. Nobody’s ever stood up for you like that before, nobody over the age of twelve, anyway.

But Eddie did, and you haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. You haven't been able to stop thinking about him.

You really can’t afford to be thinking about him right now, not while you're so sleep deprived and not while Carol is sitting right there. If she could read your mind she'd claw your eyes out.

Thankfully, she hasn't noticed the way your attention has begun to stray. She’s too busy talking, and it's starting to give you a headache.   

Deep down, somewhere in your subconscious, you know you ought to try and smooth things over, because for as nasty as she can be (all the time, every day) she’s still your best friend. Even though she regularly puts you on probation like this for imagined slights.

Even though your friendship has conditions and stipulations that only seem to apply to you.

Even though you have nothing in common anymore except for the fact that you’ve been best friends since you were eight years old.    

So, perhaps the better phrasing is you know you ought to try a little harder because you used to be best friends.    

Nostalgia is the ancient, flaking paste keeping the walls of your friendship standing, but the paper there has long since begun to peel to reveal the rot beneath.     

Carol is still going on about who said what and who is dating who and all the latest gossip, talking at you more than talking to you. Talking just to fill the air because there's nothing Carol hates more than an awkward silence, and any silence with you is awkward.

You’re doing your best to at least try to pretend to look interested – really, you are – but with your lack of sleep and your headache, and everything else happening in the room, there’s not much you can do to stop the way your gaze has begun to wander…    

Because Eddie Munson has entered your periphery, Eddie Munson is standing on his lunch table – Eddie Munson stood up for you.     

Good God, indeed.    

You couldn't have listened to what Carol was saying in that moment if you tried, not with Eddie standing there, larger than life and violently demanding your undivided attention.

Well, okay... not yours specifically, rather the attention of anyone who just so happens to be bored enough to tune in to his frenetic display … which is to say, you.   

You’re happy enough to let him have your attention, and you tell yourself it's because whatever he’s up to is bound to be vastly more enticing than anything Carol has to say.

No other reason, absolutely not.

You’re not sure you’d be able to resist giving it to him even if you didn’t feel that way, because if you were being honest, you would admit that you’ve been painfully aware of him from the moment you’d stepped into the lunchroom.    

Not because you’re minorly obsessed with him or anything as uncool as that. Certainly not because you’re harboring a bizarre gargantuan little crush on him, or that when you tune everything else out and let your brain switch tracks, it’s him your mind shifts to.   

No, nothing so embarrassing as that.     

He’s a rebel with entirely too much cause, standing tall on the flattop, talking big and proselytizing to his minions about something with all the fire and charisma of a bible belt preacher. You’re hopelessly lost on the context of his sermon, but you’re nothing if not convinced and entirely prepared to convert to the church of Eddie Munson.

Quietly, and so, so carefully, so as not to alert the predators lurking in your circle. Stranded in the lion's den as you are, you're stuck having to worship your false idol from afar, and you're almost content to keep doing so.

Still, your cautious reverence does nothing to ease the shock of chills that wracks your body as Eddie raises his voice.

You can feel it vibrating in the pit of your stomach and you know you must be gawping stupidly at him as the passion of whatever it is that’s got him going today takes him to the edge of euphoria.

It’s absolutely captivating to watch, and almost enough to break Carol’s concentration... almost.

This is not exactly new behavior for Eddie, so most people have learned to tune him out.     

Normally you would count yourself in among that group — you know, like a liar — if for nothing more than that good ol' self preservation.

Then again, you aren't normally dead on your feet after spending a night tossing and turning, restlessly caught in the throes of a decidedly raunchy REM cycle, the subject of which just so happens to be standing on a table across the room. 

He's the reason you didn't get any sleep last night, and despite your bone tiredness, you're suddenly wide awake.

So what if you had a sex dream about Eddie last night? So what if your skin is buzzing where you can still feel his hands pulling at you, the gentle fanning of his breath on the nape of your neck where it had felt so real...

“Sweet Girl,” he’d whispered on heady exhale in your dreams, voice thick and shot full of holes in the way you can only imagine he might sound in the throes of ecstasy.

Just the thought of it sends a bolt of heat lancing through your core and forces you to shift in your seat and, tragically, avert your gaze. 

It's just a little bit too much show for you with tell out of the question, and Eddie, or at least the version of him in your dreams, is driving you nuts.     

You are an island to your own fantasies, feeling your heart throbbing between your legs and trying to be as subtle as humanly possible about the way you’re pinching your thighs together for the faintest glimmer of relief.

You stop that right this instant you dirty slut. A snarling voice in your head warns you, and you immediately obey as cooler heads prevail.

The absolute last thing you need is to go to pieces at the lunch table in front of all your peers. In front of Eddie.

Carol would never let you live it down.

Someone shouts something at him from across the room, and you have to fight not to look for his response.

You're just a little too hot under the collar right now to watch Eddie give someone the finger, especially while you're sitting there wishing he would give it to you instead.

Jesus Christ you are so pathetic.

You force yourself to look at Carol and watch her lips move. You don't hear a word she says, but you're grateful for the distraction and the sudden pang of longing in your heart, if only for entirely selfish reasons.

You hate having to suffer in silence like this.

Once upon a time, you might have been free to share the specificities of your dream in bowed heads and hushed tones, but you are entirely certain that were you to try that now, to lean across the table and whisper conspiratorially:

“Oh my God, you’ll never guess who I had the filthiest dream about last night,” you’d be instantly crucified, socially speaking.    

Carol doesn’t care about the yearnings of your most secret self. Not anymore. Now she only cares about Tommy and who did what at Tina’s party and how embarrassing it was, and quietly sidling up to Steve Harrington.    

She doesn’t care about you, and your secrets are absolutely not safe with her, no matter what the pathetic lingering sense of nostalgia keeps telling you.

You would cut ties if you had a little more self-respect, but high school is hard enough with bad friends, you know for certain it would be next to impossible with no friends.

The concept of starting fresh and trying to make new ones halfway through your sophomore year is a Sisyphean Hurdle you have no idea how to even begin to tackle. So you grin and bear it, and swallow any biblical yearnings you happen to harbor for the town pariah for later.

Besides, if you told her, all she would do is ask you what it is you think you know about anything raunchy before dutifully reminding you that you’re a virgin.   

Actually, the technical term would be “still a virgin” and would be followed up with the demand to know “when you’re going to do something about it” — like somehow the untouched state of your being is so embarrassing.   

You suppose in the eternal tide pool of the high school diaspora, it’s just one more patently uncool thing about you hampering her.

Carol Perkins and her loser best friend who doesn’t put out, has never had a boyfriend, never even been kissed.    

You would remind her that it’s hard to put out when nobody knows you exist.

Who are you but her excessively boring shadow? You don't put out because half the time nobody even notices you're there. But that would feel too much like whining and would only become an agonizing exercise in her rattling off a list of names you’d so much rather eat glass than accompany anywhere socially.     

But you tell yourself it's not all bad, because if you're invisible, then at least you don't have to worry about how poor a job you're doing masking the way you're staring at Eddie.

You can't be embarrassed if nobody perceives you right? You're not so sure.

You don’t really know when your stupid little crush began.

He's always been there if you really think about it, a fixture in the background of the swirling miasma that is your social circle, suddenly much larger than it has ever been since High School has became your habitat.    

Hawkins is a small town, and Eddie’s lived here his whole life, same as you. He’s a year older, but that wouldn’t be enough distance to remove someone from your orbit under normal circumstances, let alone someone like him in a town like this.    

Some part of you has always been mildly obsessed with him from a purely academic standpoint — forbidden knowledge is perhaps the most tantalizing thing to a young mind, and the likes of Eddie Munson has always been completely off-limits to the likes of you.   

Eddie's father was always something closer to a Universal Movie Monster than a real person in your mind.

More like Dracula or the Wolfman than a human man with a substance abuse problem.

When you were growing up, the most you knew about it was that Al Munson was the local boogeyman, and was to be feared by school children and good Americans alike.

Eddie didn't even feature in that conversation until much later, not until the notorious Munson patriarch finally went to prison and everyone could breathe a weighted sigh of relief.

With the streets safe again, life went on, and the good people of Hawkins very quickly realized their mistake.

People start to get nervous when there are no local pariahs to blame all their problems on. Hawkins is cursed, after all, but with Al gone, that narrative quickly began to crumble.

Luckily, they had a Munson to spare, and as soon as he was old enough, everyone was happy to force the son into the void the father left in the cultural zeitgeist. 

Eddie became bad news over night, "just like his father", your parents still used to say and you were are strictly forbidden from socializing with him.

You remember a time when it wasn’t like that.

You remember when your parents spoke about Eddie with a heavy dose of sympathy, because back then it wasn't his fault his father was a monster.    

When you were little, it was “that poor kid,” but as you got older and he started getting into more and more trouble, it became “stay away from that boy – he’s no good,”

Still, there’s nothing so tempting as forbidden fruit – you’ve known that since you were old enough to recognize there was a difference between boys and girls. 

And he is nothing if not strictly forbidden to you.

Even now, sitting in the lunchroom so publicly yearning, you can still hear your father’s lecturing voice warning you that if you so much as spoke to Eddie Munson you’d get instantly hooked on drugs, knocked up, and end up living out of a cardboard box by the time you were twenty.    

Which is stupid, of course, because you’ve gone to school with Eddie since first grade and you’d seen him talk to plenty of people over the course of that time, none of whom had gone on to suffer such a dismal fate.              

Anyway, it's not like he's banging down the door for your attention. You’re fairly certain he doesn’t even know you exist.   

There wasn’t much danger in becoming corrupted by someone like Eddie Munson before Carol got popular and dragged you along with her, and that hasn’t changed just because you won a golden ticket to the cool kid’s table… by proxy — you're more of an unwanted plus-one than anything else.    

Not Charlie Bucket so much as Grandpa Joe.   

But of course, you’ve never personally subscribed to the generalization that Eddie is evil or something.    

He isn’t the boogeyman or Dracula or any of those things that go bump in the night, no matter how badly your raunchy little dreams wish he'd come bumping through your night.   

As far as you’re concerned, Eddie isn’t even all that mean or scary, and maybe that’s just because he’d treated you so sweetly last autumn at Tina Burton’s Not-Quite-Halloween party….    

Except you’re not supposed to be thinking about that, remember? Because last week's dressing down in the quad wasn't actually the first time Eddie came to your rescue.

That memory is not safe within Carol’s proximity, but it is the ambrosia that has been singularly sustaining you for the better part of a year now – a year next week on Halloween, but who’s counting?

It is a shining jewel that you keep tucked safely in the spot behind your lungs, and you just can’t help but pull the curtain back to take a peek at it.   

It was your first high school party.    

You’d never partaken in anything before that night, never even been offered, but suddenly and unceremoniously finding yourself shoved up against Eddie in a game of puff-puff-pass, you let yourself be pressured into playing.   

He must have realized you were nervous — maybe your fingers were trembling when he passed you the blunt, but suddenly, and for perhaps the first time in your life, he was speaking directly to you.    

“Have you ever done this before?” Eddie asked you quietly, a heavy dose of concern shadowing the wry quirk of his brow.   

It was startling, to realize the curse of your invisibility had so unceremoniously been lifted, leaving you suddenly exposed to the one person you were never meant to speak to.

You had to resist the urge to whip your head around and ask, “Who me?”

Yes, you.    

Eddie Munson was looking at you and asking you if you knew what you were doing.    

Like something out of one of those anti-drug campaigns, you suddenly felt the unbearable pressure to perform in a situation you’d been preparing for your whole life: if Eddie Munson offers you drugs at a party, just say no kids.    

Only you could not help but notice how genuinely concerned he looked, how soft and approachable and incredibly fucking normal.

Not nearly as scary or dangerous as McGruff the Crime Dog had led you to believe. In fact, he was entirely too enticing, and you were suddenly desperate to make a good impression.   

You opened your mouth in the fanatical hope of saying something cool and casual — yeah, of course. You’ve done all kinds of shit — and were naturally horrified to hear the truth squeak out.    

“No.”    

Eddie’s brows crept toward one another forming a deep crease of concern between them, and in a bright burst of suddenly onset clairvoyance, you could read his mind - yeah, that’s what I thought, he seemed to say.   

You watched as he stole a quick glance over his shoulder, before leaning in, invading your space almost conspiratorially as the moist pink tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips before he spoke.

Your heart was beating so aggressively in your chest that you were convinced he must have been able to hear it.    

“You don’t have to breathe it in if you don’t want to.” He said, “Just puff it and pass — you’ll be fine.”    

You still remember the way his lips brushed the shell of your ear when he whispered to you, how the fanning of his breath made you shiver with the tantalizing suggestion of nicotine and spearmint secrets.    

But it was the last little bit that really did you in.    

Not the overwhelming pressure of your peers insisting that just one hit won’t kill you, but the kind assurance from the person who provided the contraband that you didn’t have to partake if you didn’t want to.

It was the suggestion of having a choice in your fate that ultimately lured you out of your field and into the underworld — sickly sweet pomegranate promises, dripping from his tongue to yours.   

You’ll be fine.

Just like your father and McGruff the Crime Dog and all those insufferable after-school specials had promised, Eddie Munson turned his gaze upon you, and you were instantly hooked.    

He passed you the blunt, and you tried not to get too caught up on the way his fingers brushed yours when you took it.

You curled your lips inward as you brought it to your mouth, and you puff puff puffed, doing your best to hold your throat closed against any swirling wisps of smoke that might slip through and poison you.

You hoped it would give the subtle impression that you knew what you were doing in order to escape the humiliation of inexperience before you handed the joint off to the next person.

It still burned in a funny sort of way, but nothing really happened.

You didn’t slip down the rabbit hole, you didn’t burst into flames, and perhaps most importantly no one seemed to notice the wool being pulled over their eyes as you dared to steal another cautious glance at Eddie.    

His lips twitched in the faintest hint of a satisfied smile, and you bloomed under the approval of someone whose attention you never realized you so desperately craved.

You couldn’t believe you’d pulled it off, and you were so pleased to have evidently made Eddie proud that is physically hurt to watch him turn away from you and take the shining warmth of his attention away, leaving you shrouded in darkness.

Tragically, invisible again, just like that.    

If only you could have been so lucky.

Trust Carol to catch you faking when you — a virgin in so many aspects — continued to remain clear eyed and level headed after three rounds of puffing and passing.    

“You’re supposed to inhale, Dummy!” She shrieked, causing everyone in the circle to laugh at your blatant inexperience.   

Everyone but Eddie, you would have noticed had you been able to look, but shame-faced as you were, you kept your gaze fixed firmly to the floor.

When your next turn came around, you inhaled deeply and felt your lungs ignite.

You coughed, of course, and choked on the musky smoke as it filled your lungs and seared them medium rare.

It only took a handful of minutes before you quickly faded into oblivion, backed by the soundtrack of everyone laughing at you again.    

The rest of that night remains a mystery to you to this day.    

You don’t remember what happened after the game or how much longer the party lasted or even how you got home, but there are some things that stand out clear as day.

Somewhere, hidden back in the furthest reaches of your subconscious, you swear you can still feel the press of his body as Eddie held you caged in the crook of his arm, with your head resting on his collarbone and tucked neatly beneath his chin.

You don’t know how, but you swear you know what his lips feel like, brushing the highest point of your cheekbone, and the long line of his nose pressed flat against your temple with his breath gently fanning the side of your face.

You’re sure you can feel the deep rumble of his voice filling you with warmth, a low timber in his chest calling you Sweet Girl as he smoothes your hair back.  

You don’t know how you know all that, only that you do.

You feel it with every fiber of your being in a way that is so goddamn real it can’t just be an effect of your stupid little crush and unchecked libido. 

How else could your dreams be so inexorably vivid?

In a moment of weakness, Eddie promised you everything was going to be okay, and you believe him to this day.        

That night at Tina’s party, academic fascination bloomed into something new, fueled entirely by teenage hormones and the need to be seen.    

Like a door that, once opened, cannot be shut again, you are always thinking about Eddie, one way or another.

Attention is the high you crave like nothing else, and you desperately want Eddie’s attention, his undivided, unfiltered, unwavering attention, fixed solely on you.

Selfishly, you want him to be as obsessed with you as you are with him, and it makes you feel like at any moment you’re going to implode in on yourself like a dying star.    

Your parents would be appalled.   

Carol would be appalled.

But Carol hasn’t noticed, because she’s still talking, and you’re still not listening, because Eddie is still going. And going. And going.   

Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Eddie is suddenly so much closer than he was a moment before.

At some point, when you weren’t looking, while you were too busy thinking about him to notice the direction his tirade had taken him, he picked his was across the lunch tables and crossed the room.

Your stomach does a cartoon flip-flop, and you hold a wheezy breath in your lungs when he vaults down from the end of his table, furthest from his seat and closest to yours.

Suddenly he's right fucking there, and you forget how to breathe.

Your eyes meet briefly as he straightens up, and you immediately avert your gaze — self preservation, remember? — feeling your face flush hot enough that you’re half surprised it doesn’t melt right off of your skull as you shift your focus back over to Carol.    

Carol... what's Carol talking about again? Oh, that's right. Tommy Hagan. Tommy Tommy Tommy.

Tommy is so goddamn boring, but in this instant, with Eddie Munson lurking within enough proximity to feel the pull of his orbit, Tommy is the most interesting person in the world.

You desperately want to know everything about Tommy and Tina and who said what about you and how embarrassing it was.   

Because you’ve changed your mind. You don't want Eddie's attention. Eddie’s attention is blinding, like looking into the sun.

It makes you feel exposed, like he’s a spotlight shining straight through to your innermost self — your secret self.

The one that thinks about him in the wee hours of the morning when sleep eludes you and deft fingers creep their way down your body, edging toward the wanting apex of your spread thighs and slipping past creamy slick barriers to pull soft, lilting breaths and his name — his blessed, cursed name — from your parted lips until you’re going hot and cold clamping your jaw shut to stop the sordid cries of your orgasm from escaping your lips…   

Jesus Christ –    

No, actually, you’re much more comfortable remaining a wallflower and letting someone else get wrapped up in that undivided, unwavering, fixed-solely-on-you attention.

Better to stand aside and make room for somebody built to withstand that kind of heat from someone like Eddie. Someone edgy and cool, who gives the middle finger to the world and dresses the part — not some midwestern babysitter from a town no one has ever heard of.    

Yeah... but he’s from that town that no one has ever heard of, too, you think watching Carol’s lips move and hearing nothing but your own heartbeat.

You gaze wanders without your permission, and before you know it, you're looking at him again – your insides seize and cramp, because this time, he’s looking too.    

Your heart spasms in your chest and scrambles up into your throat, punching an airy breath out of you and flattening your lungs.   

Fuck.    

There’s that blinding light, that feeling of indecent exposure — it’s not the sun, it's a solar eclipse burning your retinas out of your skull, and somehow you can’t bring yourself to look away.    

You’re painfully aware of how you’re staring again, though this time it is because he has your eyes and he absolutely refuses to let go.    

Somehow it doesn’t feel even the slightest bit aggressive, more like an understanding – he sees you.   

He sees you.   

You’re blushing, you know you’ve got to be bright crimson — beet red even — you can feel it.

You're sweating.

Sweet Girl — hands pulling, lips brushing, wandering fingers, gasping, gasping —Sweet Girl Sweet Girl Sweet—  

“Hello? Ground control to Major Tom.”    

Carol snaps her perfectly manicured fingers in your face, breaking the spell and bringing the quiet din of the lunchroom rushing back in on you.    

It feels like getting swamped at the beach, swept off of your feet by the tide, and rolled in the undercurrent. You crack your head on the reef and your brains come tumbling out as you're washed away into oblivion.

You have to remind yourself to breathe.   

“Are you even listening to me?” She snipes, scrunching her nose in aggravation and flattening her bubble gum pink lips into a thin, ugly line.     

You blink stupidly at her as she comes back into focus, but you don’t answer, because you very clearly hadn't and your mind is not working well enough to drudge up an excuse.    

It feels foolish to try and lie about it because Carol loves to remind you that she always knows when you’re lying, and yet the truth is entirely too dangerous.

Your secrets are not safe with her, and your biggest secret is still standing right there.

You can see him in your peripheral vision, poking and prodding you and just begging to be noticed.     

And you can't stop yourself from looking. Of course you can't, who can resist the sun?

When you do, Eddie rewards you with a brief, goofy smile. All crooked lips twisted up to one side, the faintest suggestion of teeth poking out.

It's a startling contrast to the vitriolic injustice of whatever it was that had previously gripped him in such a chokehold, and it’s contagious, that smile.

You can suddenly feel the corners of your mouth twitching in response, threatening to expose you and just daring you to try to resist.    

It makes your insides go tight and squirmy, and you have to clench your teeth to keep anything remotely similar to a straight face.    

The change in your demeanor is unfortunately not lost on Carol.      

She narrows her eyes at you, and you are powerless to stop your own from darting back and forth.

Carol - Eddie - Carol - Eddie - Carol... Eddie always wins.

You feel your heart seize and begin to palpitate as she begins to twist to see what could possibly be so important to hold your rapt attention, and you have to grip the edges of your seat to stop yourself from reaching out across the table.

You could scream stop! and make a scene, but that would only make you look even crazier than you are sure you already do.

There's nothing you can do to stop the collision, and all you can do is brace yourself for the sky to come crashing down on your head.

Unstoppable force? Meet immovable object.

Round two. Fight.        

Carol physically recoils when she sees Eddie. Dramatically so - like he'd been waiting there to douse her in a bucket of ice water.

It takes her a moment to recover, but when she does, she has nothing but spitting, poisonous vitriol for him, much to your unbearable dismay.    

“Take a picture, Freak, it’ll last longer.” She snaps.    

Something indiscernible crosses Eddie’s features as his gaze flicks over to her from you, then back again.

You watch his brows marry in the middle as he pulls a face that is tinged ever so slightly with something that looks a little too much like hurt than you're comfortable with.

The flash of vulnerability makes your stomach go tight, and you’re suddenly possessed with a violent and desperate need to make him understand that you are not with her, despite how stridently untrue that is.

You are Carol's friend, after all, even if lately you've started to feel like little more than an out-of-trend accessory.     

With her, is all that you are.      

The hurt look is gone before it has time to settle, and Eddie wrinkles his nose in disgust.   

For a long moment, they stand staring poisonous daggers at each other and daring the other to be the first to die.

She hates him and he hates her right back — cool kids and losers. Circle of life.

All you can do is desperately hope beyond hope that you’re not lumped into that circle by association. Golden ticket by proxy.   

“Seriously, what the fuck are you looking at?” Carol snaps, and strangely, Eddie's features relax.   

“Nothing,” he says, rolling his shoulders, “Just wondering how Bulimia Barbie got out of her box.”    

Your insides clench and had she been facing you, you’re certain you would have seen Carol turn white as a sheet.   

Eddie turns to make the stilted victory lap back to his seat at the head of his table, electing to take the floor this time rather than the tabletop.

You watch him go, because at this point, you're Pavloved — if Eddie is moving, you're watching — and when he gets to his seat, he gives you one last parting glance.

This time, you muster your courage and hold his gaze, pulling a face that you hope looks at least halfway as apologetic as it feels. 

That went exactly the way it was meant to, according to the strict social hierarchy of Hawkins High, and you feel terrible about it.

Not nearly as bad as you ought to feel for Carol, however.     

There are a lot of ways to get under her skin — she’s never been exactly easygoing, but even you think bringing up the eating disorder she’s been less-than-privately struggling with since the eighth grade is a low blow.

She’d been devastated when word of it got out, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her it was Tommy who’d let that information slip, because they'd only just started dating when that rumor was making the rounds.

Tommy's mean, Carol's mean too, but despite the words still hanging in the air between you, you don't believe that Eddie is mean, not truly.

Carol makes a harsh sound of indignation in the back of her throat.    

“Asshole!” She shouts unevenly, then, “—can you believe that guy?”   

You don't answer, you're still too busy trying very hard to muster those latent psychic abilities you're still waiting on to tell Eddie you're sorry.

Carol hisses your name and you snap to attention.

"— what the hell are you looking at?"   

“Nothing.” You say quickly, doing your best to curl in on yourself so she can't reach across the table to bite your head off.  

Only Carol has not believed a word that has come out of your mouth since the summer between eighth and ninth grade. She twists in her seat again just in time to see Eddie looking away, much to your patent dismay,

“…Oh, gross!” she scoffs, whipping back around to face you, “What, are you swapping eyes with the Freak?”    

The adrenaline of being caught bursts in your midsection like a firework and sends lightning rocketing down to the tips of your fingers.

"No," You lie.

"Liar," she says.

You turn your attention back to moving the bits of your lunch tray back and forth, but you have completely lost your appetite, especially as she admonishes you with a disappointed utterance of your name.

Your cheeks burn with shame.    

“I was just being friendly.” You stress, pressing the plastic tines of your spork into the bottom of the tray until they bend and snap off.   

“With Eddie Munson? Ugh — gag me!”      

The unchecked disdain in her tone doesn’t sit right with you, because it’s not like she’s ever even said two words to Eddie that weren’t hurled as insults, and you can’t help yourself clicking your tongue.    

“...he’s not that bad,” you say, immediately regretting the statement as the mean nickname comes roaring back to slap you upside the head.

Bulemia Barbie snorts out an undainty sound of disgust, you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from apologizing.   

“He’s a freak.” She snarls — so you keep saying, you think — “He worships the Devil or whatever — everybody knows that.”    

Horrifically, there is nothing you can do to stifle the bitter snort of laughter that comes bubbling up out of you.

It is a harsh, sardonic snot of a sound that escapes before you can reign it in.      

A brief flash of hatred colors her features, and you can’t help but feel that the curtain has been pulled back and you’re suddenly looking at her true self.    

"Everybody knows that." She repeats, slowly, forcefully, giving you a hard, cold look as if daring you to disagree.

Evidently, you dare, which is a shock to you.   

“How do you know?” you say, narrowing your eyes and wrinkling your nose in a quiet defiance. 

She opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out, because she doesn't know. That's just what everybody says, but as far as you're concerned, no one has any actual proof that Eddie Munson worships the Devil.

Your stance gives you the upper hand in this verbal joust, and your reluctance to concede is like throwing gas on a fire.    

Suddenly, Carol is all but shouting at you as her eyes go bright and her skin flushes a blotchy crimson.      

“Oh please, like you know any better, Little Miss Babysitter!”   

She hurls it at you like a slur and you flinch as the violent intention strikes you.   

You don’t know precisely when Carol became so mean, only that it happened sometime between the transition from seventh to eighth grade, right around the time she’d gotten her first training bra and started to notice how boys were noticing her — right around the time Tommy showed up.

Since that day, everything between the two of you has been a competition that she is determined to win, despite how clearly uninterested you are in participating.

You don't want to fight, and yet you feel the strangest sense of righteous indignation rising in you because she doesn’t know Eddie. She's never even tried to get to know him, and here she is condemning him right alongside everyone else just because it’s what’s currently on trend.

You want to ask her how that’s fair, how she would feel if the shoe were on the other foot, and suddenly she became bad news overnight.

You don't, because you don't want to get your head bitten off as much as you don't want to parrot the condescending tone of your mother asking you if you’d jump off of a cliff the same as everyone.

Mostly though, you don't ask because she's right.

You don’t know Eddie any better than she does, not with all your wishing and hoping and fantasizing, and certainly not after the way he’d looked at you at Tina’s party – Sweet Girl…  

“Yeah okay, whatever,” You mumble, because there’s no point in arguing with Carol when she gets like this.   

Your submission doesn’t apparently sit any better with Carol than your challenge did. Her face twists into a displeased scowl as she snatches up the can of coke that is the entirety of her lunch and begins to raise it to her bubblegum pink lips before thinking better of it and setting it back down with a harsh sigh.    

You don’t know what’s got her so flustered, or what you did to embarrass her so badly. All you did was smile at Eddie, it’s not like you invited him to come and sit at the table with you.    

“Why do you care anyway?” She demands then, clearly not done fighting.        

“I don’t,” You say flatly, sitting up a little straighter.    

“Then how come you’re defending him?”    

You cross your arms.    

“I’m not.”    

“You are though.” She insists, like she’s caught the scent of something she can weild against you, and is trying her best to sniff it out. “You’ve got that stupid look on your face like you’re about to get all self-righteous about something. What’s the deal? Do you like him or something?”   

Your heart seizes and suddenly you can feel color bleeding into your cheeks as your armor creaks under the stress of her accusation.

How could she possibly know that?   

Because she’s your best friend, she knows everything about you…   

“No…” you say, though even you are not convinced by the quavering tone of your voice.   

Carol stares at you, briefly uncomprehending before it dawns on her, and suddenly her eyes are blazing with malicious delight.   

Shit.   

“Oh, nasty!” She shouts, then gasps, mouth falling open in scandal, “You do! You totally do!”   

“I don’t – I mean, I don’t even know him.” You stammer, kicking yourself for how your resolve has begun to waver.     

“Doesn’t mean you’re not into him! Oh, that’s so gross!” Carol sneers, she is loving this all too much, “Oh, my God, look at you – you’re blushing!”   

Your hands fly up reflexively to bracket your face, and you hate yourself for the heat you can feel billowing off you, betraying you.

Carol squeals with malevolent glee and you know you must be sweating again for the way she is looking at you, eyes bright, teeth bared, wet, and shining in a hungry grin like a predator getting ready to make a meal out of you.   

“O-okay, that’s enough.” You say unevenly, trying and failing to be firm as you are suddenly unable to keep your voice from shaking as you speak.   

She doesn’t hear you – that or she just plain ignores you because she is getting too much of a rise out of your misery.    

“What are you, like, in love with him?”    

“Carol – stop.”   

“You are! Holy shit, you totally are!” She cackles, “You want to marry him and have a hundred of his freak babies!”    

She is practically screaming and you are this close to panicking about it, glancing anxiously across the room to the table where Eddie is sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, talking and laughing with his friends about something.

You have to force yourself to believe that they aren’t laughing at you because there’s no way they could possibly be clued into your conversation with Carol … who has started play-acting that she is you, moaning loud and wantonly as you are fucked by what you can only imagine is supposed to be Eddie.

It's shockingly apropos in the worst possible way, almost as if somehow she’d found the time to steal away and read the mad scribblings you’d left smeared across the pages of your diary that morning.   

“Oh, God–!” She moans, hands flying up to tangle in her hair and igniting a burst of cold anxiety in the pit of your stomach like a Roman candle, “Oh, Eddie! Don’t stop! Right there – Yes! YES! YES!”     

You could die. You could literally die.    

People have started to look over at you, stare at you, and all of that would almost be fine if it weren’t for the fact that you are currently imploding like that dying star.   

You can’t be certain if its a result of your friend’s whorish display or just the screaming sensation of someone staring at him (because if you weren't watching him like a hawk before, you certainly are now) but Eddie’s attention snaps back over to your table in an instantly, to you, and you nearly pass out.   

You’re on your feet with a loud squeak of chair legs on linoleum – much louder than anything Carol had just kicked up. If people weren’t staring before, they’re certainly staring now, watching you frantically attempt to gather your things and make a break for it before your brain can catch up with you.   

Carol has started to come down by now, and she's leaning back casually in her chair, watching you panic.

"Seriously?" She snickers, like she didn't just publicly humiliate you, again, "You're leaving?"   

“I gotta go,” you say quickly.    

“Oh, come on, I was just kidding.” Carol sighs, “Don't be so sensitive. Where are you going?”    

You can hardly hear her over the blood rushing in your ears. Your heart is hammering so violently against your ribcage that you can barely catch your breath to try and stammer out an excuse.   

“I just remembered,” You begin, your voice hitches and threatens to break, “I have this… thing I have to do for class. Totally forgot. I gotta go work on it.”   

You shove the last of your belongings haphazardly into your backpack and slide your lunch tray into the nearest trashcan – the entire tray hits the bottom of the bin with a loud thump that has the lunch lady shouting indignantly at you from the other side of the room.   

You don’t linger to rectify your mistake or apologize or do anything of the sort, because your frantic attempts to escape the lunchroom have drawn only more attention.   

One cursory glance reveals to you that, devastatingly, Eddie’s entire lunch table has turned to watch you go.

You nearly go stumbling to the ground as you trip over your feet in your frantic attempt to get as far from there as you possibly can, as fast as you can.

“Liar!” Carol shouts after you, “Where are you really going?”   

“I’ll see you later!”    

You twist at the waist and wave when she calls your name again, and, because you're Pavloved, you can’t help look to see Eddie leaning back dangerously in his chair, craning his neck to watch you go in a way that makes your heart seize against your ribs.

His eyes go wide when he sees you looking, and he lurches forward to right himself again, briefly losing his balance and just about toppling out of the chair as he does.  

He saw everything, which means he probably heard everything which means you should probably just go find a corner to curl up and die in.

Like, right now.      

You turn and pick up your pace and blow through the double doors before anyone can get the bright idea to follow you.   

You move through the halls without really knowing where you intend to go, but before you realize it, you’re in the gymnasium, stalking across the empty floor to tuck yourself back beneath the bleachers.   

It’s not the most covert hiding spot, and you're almost surprised to find it empty considering how many people tend toward coming down here to hide and make out.

The braver, hornier couples around campus have even been known to engage in the odd session of heavy petting or dry humping back here where they can get their rocks off more or less removed from prying eyes.

More, being the keyword there. It feels like someone is being busted for that kind of under the bleachers indecency every other week.

You’ve got no such plans to follow suit, despite the ruined state of your panties, as you scramble to slip out of sight with a gentle squeak of Chucks on clear coat.  

Your heart is pounding as you pull your knees up to your chest, face absolutely burning over the way Carol’s stupid play acting has left you slick and throbbing with the memory of your stupid, stupid dream.

You bite the inside of your cheek until it hurts and violently will yourself to get a grip, because what are you going to do about it? Nothing, you're gonna wallow in shame and that will be that.   

You pull your bag into your lap and begin rifling through its haphazard contents, desperately searching for some kind of a distraction – something to take your mind off of the lingering sensation of full lips and calloused fingertips and hot fanning breath – Jesus motherfucking Christ! Get a hold of yourself.    

You need your book. You need to lose yourself in thick text, hard science fiction, and worlds and histories and glossaries of outlandish names… only your book is not here. 

Your well-loved, annotated copy of Dune, whose cover is hanging on by a thread with how many times it has been bent backward as you pour over the familiar text. Whose pages are creased and dog-eared and littered with notes and doodles and all the little lines and themes you never want to forget.   

It’s not here. Even after you dig and dig and dig, even after you dump your bag on the gymnasium floor and spread all your things out in a neat fan in front of you.

Your book is still missing.   

You hardly get the time to stress about it much further than the singular thought before the school bell rings with a shrill, metallic clanging cry. It startles your brain back into an approximation of working action and sends you scrambling to shove all your things back into your bag.   

You’re almost relieved.

Without your book, you’d just been sitting there biding your time until Carol eventually sniffed you out and you would have to brace yourself for round two, but your schedules are thankfully far removed from one another.

She’s got Mrs. O’Donnell for fifth period, whose classroom lies mercifully on the other side of the school from your fifth-period chemistry class, and the ringing of the end of lunch bell is a Godsend, solidifying your escape and requisite safety from another bout of humiliation.   

Your lab partner is a freshman, Gareth Emerson, who just so happens to be a newer addition to Eddie’s roving gang of minions.

Somehow, that is much less terrifying than you’d half expected it to be when you first noticed him in the lunchroom, sitting tucked neatly into the chair at Eddie’s side and hanging on his every word.   

It had just been nice to know that you’re not the only one so affected by his gravitational pull  

Still, you’d often wondered how Gareth was lucky enough to win such a coveted spot so early on in his tenure, considering Eddie Munson tends to be a particularly terrifying entity to the newest additions to the Hawkins High student body.

As you’d gotten to know him, you stopped wondering about that.   

Gareth’s a sweetheart. He’s nice, funny, and reminds you a lot of your neighbor, Dustin, if he were a little older and just a little bit cooler, that is.

It’s no wonder he’s so quickly found himself at a place of honor at Eddie’s side, how could anyone resist him?  

You wish you could hang out with Gareth instead of Carol.

You wish you could sit comfortably at lunch and talk about the things that actually held your interest. That you could make afterschool and weekend plans without a hint of dread, and be safe in the knowledge that a trip to the movies or to the arcade was simply that. No ulterior motives or hidden agendas, no fear of being humiliated or abused for the amusement of the people who were supposed to be your friends.

You wish you could be real friends with Gareth, but Gareth hangs out with Eddie, and the thought of joining them at their lunch table is enough to send your heart into palpitations, so you just have to settle with the friendship you have, limited to the confines of the classroom.  

“Hey,” Gareth says, frowning quizzically at you as you unpack your things and hop up onto the metal stool beside him, “What happened to you at lunch? You looked like you were about to pop.”  

Your insides clench with shame and for a very brief moment, you're afraid you're about to empty them all over the tabletop.  

“You saw that, huh?” You mumble, swallowing hard.

“Everybody saw that.” He scoffs, pulling a face.   

Everybody. The word clangs around your ribs and you have to blink back the image of Eddie leaning so far back in his chair, watching you run from the lunchroom.

Literally run. Like some kind of scared little kid fleeing the monster that lives under their bed.   

Great.  

“What does she think you did this time? Sell her firstborn child for concert tickets or something?”  

You sigh, slumping forward to prop your head up on your elbow and level Gareth with an unimpressed look.  

“Nothing – I don’t want to talk about it.”  

He takes the hint and offers you his hands in a show of surrender before turning back to the blackboard, where Mr. Kapz has stepped up and begun scribbling formulas with a hard squeak of chalk.   

You watch without really seeing, trying to keep your mind from drifting too far with all your classmates sitting around you.

There is a cold lump in the pit of your stomach as a hundred different things whisk around your mind, all fighting tooth and nail for the limited real estate left in your brain with so much of Eddie stuffed up in there.

It’s always like that though, and it leaves you feeling particularly pathetic, thinking about yourself, sitting beneath the bleachers on your own, like the loser you are, hiding from your friends, wishing things were different, wishing you could be the person they wanted you to be, wishing you could be free of them.  

You suck greedily on a sharp intake of air and shake your head to dislodge that line of thinking before it can take root and pivot to a much more pressing matter, for the sake of your own self-preservation.         

“Hey, weird question,” You start, tilting your head down toward your shoulder and speaking in a loud whisper, “But have you seen my book?”   

Gareth’s brows are pulled tight over his eyes when you glance at him, and you are quick to elaborate,   

“Dune." You clarify, "It’s all beat up and annotated…?”    

“Yeah, no— I mean, sure I’ve seen it—” 

"Recently?" You posit, hoping he understands that you've lost it and not just trying to small talk about the sorry state of a mass-market paperback.

"Yeah."

You hardly let him finish.

“Really? That’s great! Where?” 

“...Eddie’s got it.”   

It hits you like a fist to the gut, punching your lungs flat and forcing the air out. Your heart thumps a heavy beat like it always does when someone mentions Eddie and you feel your tongue go fat in your mouth.     

“Ed-Eddie Munson?” You splutter, voice an embarrassing octave higher than normal, and barely manage to get the sound out over the way your throat is closing up.    

You can feel your cheeks heating just from the sordid act of speaking his name aloud.    

If Gareth takes any sort of hint from your bizarre reaction, he doesn’t let on.  

“Yeah.” He says again.   

You blink back at him, waiting for him to elaborate and feeling your chest go tight when he doesn’t.  

“…Why does he have my book?”   

“He said you left it in the parking lot after you dumped your stuff last week—”    

Oh, for the love of God…  

In the wake of everything else that happened that day, you’d almost completely forgotten about that… 

You’d been running late for school, having spectacularly slept through your alarm and been so rudely awakened by the thunderous hammering of two little fists, doing their best to bang down your bedroom door – Dustin, shouting at you to get your ass up out of bed.  

You’d forgotten you were supposed to be carpooling that morning, and you're sure you must have broken some kind of a land speed record with how you burnt rubber to get the both of you to school on time.

Gas pedal to the floor, music cranked up to eleven, you made the distance in five minutes flat.   

After, you’d been too caught up in your sudden prospective future as a Formula One driver to notice how you were headed for disaster. Jogging across the parking lot and trying to stuff your Walkman into your backpack, you weren't prepared for the wall of denim, patches, and studs to come stumbling haphazardly out of the open door of a semi-shitty beat-up panel van and directly into your path.   

You barely had time to look up, let alone pivot to try and avoid the sudden six-foot obstacle before you, so naturally you collided.

You managed to keep your feet and even catch your Walkman with an incredible feat of feline grace, but it came at the expense of your bookbag, which went tumbling topsy turvy and upchucked its contents all over the pavement at your feet.   

Fantastic.  

They stepped into your path, whoever they were. They crashed into you, but still you stammered out an apology, because how could they have been expected to look out for you when you’re running around under a cloak of invisibility?

Then, you dropped to your knees in an attempt to catch your pens and pencils before they could roll away. You fully expected to be ignored, to watch whoever it was that had just knocked your shit into the dirt skip off to class like you didn’t even exist, but when you looked up, there was Eddie Munson, crouched on the asphalt right alongside you with his head bowed toward yours, stacking your books and muttering his own apology.   

It just about damn near knocked the wind out of you, suddenly finding yourself so close to him again after spending so long quietly yearning for his proximity.

Once you got your lungs working and inflated again, you couldn’t help but breathe deep, trying to get a sense of him and refresh the waning memory you still clung to. He smelled just the way you remembered, like camels and spearmint gum standing out over the notes of whatever cheap cologne he’d obviously dusted himself in and Old Spice.

It made your mouth water, and then go completely dry when he looked up at you, turning that honey-warm gaze on you and bathing you in his spotlight. 

You weren’t invisible anymore, you were blushing, and you’d missed whatever it was he’d said to you – fuck. 

You weren’t listening, you were staring into his eyes, at the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose, at the plush spread of his lips, and the pink tip of his tongue darting out to swipe a slick sheen of moisture across them.   

Somewhere, distantly, you could hear your Walkman still playing, Ann Wilson imploring you to get a little more lost in him than is rightly wise…  

Oh, he’s a magic man, Mama…  

And he was waiting for you to answer him.

Fuck. What the fuck did he just say?      

“My fault…" Eddie mumbled thickly, "Didn’t see you there,”

Oh, thank God for that.   

“Oh – God, are you kidding?  It happens all the time.” You scoffed, dismissing the notion with a flippant wave.

It was almost a cool, collected thing to say, but then you just kept talking,

“Like. Way more than you would think,”

And talking.

“It’s actually kind of ridiculous how often people bump into me like that–”

And talking,

“Honestly, at this point, I feel like I should start wearing a bell.”   

Shut up shut up shut up already! You screamed, but before you could well and truly condemn yourself for being such a goddamn awkward weirdo, Eddie’s face twisted up in amusement and he laughed out loud.

A little too loud for something that wasn’t even halfway to being a joke – he was obviously high, the whites of his eyes were tinged an angry swollen pink, hooded and nearly closed as he peered over at you with his face split up in that crooked smile of his, but it was still so wildly endearing you couldn’t help but giggle yourself.  

You can’t believe you’d nearly forgotten that, that wonderful almost perfect moment of brushing fingers and traded looks and semi-meaningful silences.

If you really think about it, it makes perfect sense that he has your book. You haven’t seen your it since that day, haven’t even thought about it. It had been all but washed away under the bell-clanging effect of what happened later that morning between classes, with Carol jumping down your throat and Eddie riding in to pull you out of her line of fire.   

Good God!  He shouts in your memory, and you can’t help but agree with him.    

“Didn’t he give it back to you?” Gareth asks, brows marrying over his eyes.  

You give your lab partner an incredulous look because never mind how this new information is ever so subtly breaking your brain, but why on Earth would you be asking after your copy of Dune if Eddie had already given it back to you?  

Why would you even be talking about this?

The lack of logic there seems to dawn on Gareth just a tad too late to save face.   

“Guess not, never mind,” he hums, twisting back in his seat to face the blackboard.   

You sit, staring at nothing in particular as you try and fail to wrap your head around the concept of Eddie Munson carrying around your book.   

There’s something incredibly personal about an annotated book, and you can’t decide if you ought to be embarrassed about that, hoping that he didn’t stop to take the time to read any of the inane things you’d written there.

Suddenly you’re wracking your brain to try and remember if you’d gone and scribbled anything too incriminating in the margins, whether you’d absently scribbled out a dopey “Mrs. – Munson” alongside all your annotations about doomed heroes.

You imagine it written out in loopy script, replete with doodles of hearts and clouds and all the stupid cupid bullshit that is typically kept strictly within the pages of your diary. 

You’re suddenly burning with hot, whorish shame as you think back to the pages you’d frantically scribbled on in the aftermath of the wet dream you’d woken from that morning. Your fingers were trembling as you fought to get it down on paper before the vivid images and sensations slipped from your grasp and left you with nothing more than faint memories of calloused hands and full lips, burning your skin with the suggestion of phantom touches.    

Yeah, you’re going to have to go back and revisit that when you get home this afternoon, thank God you’re not babysitting tonight.   

You realize after a moment that in staring off into space, trying simultaneously to banish the feeling and relieve it, that you’ve actually been sitting, staring at Gareth, watching him wrestle with something like he’s trying to decide whether or not to let more information slip.   

Truly, you’re not sure how much more truth you can stomach here in fifth period chemistry, sitting perched on your metal stool and trying oh-so-subtly to shift over to the edge and give yourself a little relief from the way that your heart is throbbing in your panties again. 

Your guts seize like you’ve been caught red handed when Gareth twists back around to face you and ducks his head conspiratorially.   

For lack of anything better to do, you mirror his movements and hope beyond hope that, if you’re blushing, he doesn’t notice.     

“Okay, so…” he begins softly, “You didn’t hear it from me, but... he likes you,”   

You do your best not to react as your heart leaps into your throat – you don’t dare to hope to know who he means.    

“Who does?” You ask, playing dumb for the sake of your poor, nervous heart, because what if you’re wrong?  

You’re probably wrong.  

“Eddie does.” 

Then again, maybe not… oh, shit.

Gareth continues. 

“Like… a lot.” 

OH SHIT.  

Oh shit oh fuck oh sHIT be cool be cool be fucking cool!    

It takes every fiber of your limited willpower not to react, because honestly, you could scream. This is what it feels like to have your wildest dreams come true.

Eddie Munson likes you, Gareth said, like a lot, he said. 

Maybe it’s just the wrecked state you’ve been existing in from the moment you snapped into consciousness that morning, but suddenly you’re desperate, giddy, feeling the hard push of the urge to run and go find Eddie.

Find him and seize him by the shoulders and shake him and scream and shout and cheer and... and and and... and do what?

Confess your feelings?

Make some sort of grand declaration then drag him off somewhere to hop on his dick?

That’s what your ovaries are currently imploring you to do. Finally do something about that goddamn virginity of yours so Carol will climb down out of your ass.

But that’s ridiculous, right? And not at all practical, fantasizing about running off and trying to consummate what, as far as you can tell, is only a rumor before it can slip from your grasp.  

Where would you even go?  

Under the bleachers, where the braver, hornier couples go to rub up against each other and get their rocks off. 

No, no that’s stupid… and yet? 

You’ve heard the talk about Eddie, how he’s supposed to be easy or something — some part of you is pretty sure he’d be game to take you out to the back of his van if you went over and asked him nicely... just ask him nicely to lift your skirt and help you out with that pesky little virginal problem of yours, Christ, how embarrassing. 

He’d probably laugh in your face if you did. How do you know for sure that he even really likes you? What makes you think that there’s even the slightest chance that your stupid crush on him could ever be reciprocated?

You’re not a real person, remember? You don’t put out because you don’t exist.   

No, Eddie doesn’t like you, you decide in an instant, how could he? He doesn’t even know you.  

Gareth is wrong, and worse still, he’s teasing you – he has to be. It is, after all, the opening line to the oldest joke in the Hawkins High popular kid book: so, Eddie Munson wants to take you to prom…what do you do?   

It makes your chest hurt, and you have to pull your lips into a tight line to keep them from wobbling.    

Ha-ha, real funny joke, tease the loser virgin for the big stupid crush she has on the local Freak.   

“That’s mean, Gareth.” You say quietly.   

“What is?”   

You shake your head because you almost can’t bear to say it.   

“Teasing like that. That’s not nice...”   

He gives you a horrified look, like you’ve suddenly got bugs crawling out of your ears.   

“What? No, Dude, it’s not like that at all!” Gareth stresses, “I promise I’m being so serious right now. Eddie likes you. He really likes you.”     

It feels risky, but you can’t help yourself. Gareth’s a sweetheart, why would he lie to you?  

“…Really?” You ask, ever so slightly embarrassed at how small and hopeful your voice suddenly sounds and trying so, so hard to play it cool.    

“Yes… and it’s super goddamn annoying — no offense,”   

You shake your head, because in the absence of the ability to form rational thought you rely on deep-seeded pleasantries.   

“Oh, no, of course.” You say, “None taken … I think.”   

You suddenly can’t make your brain work, it just sits there like a fat grey lumpy pile of worms in your skull. Part of you is suddenly so sure that you can smell the smoke wafting up off of it as it overheats in your attempt to jumpstart it again.  

Eddie likes you. This is all really happening.  

It takes you a moment too long to realize that Gareth is still talking, and a moment even longer to clue yourself back in to what he’s saying.

“— he’s been going around in circles trying to work up the courage to talk to you, but he’s chicken shit, so he won’t do it unless he has some bullshit excuse to make it all casual — giving you your book back was supposed to be his excuse, but that was clearly a bust,”

And then, “Also, he basically threatened to kill me if I said anything so just do me a favor and be cool, alright? Pretend I didn’t say anything.”   

“…So why tell me?” you ask, almost startled by the sound of your own voice and how far away it sounds.

You’re having an out-of-body experience, that’s what this has got to be, sitting there, floating, watching yourself have this conversation with Gareth.   

Eddie Munson has your book, Eddie Munson stood up for you, Eddie Munson likes you...  

“Because he freaked when he found out we were lab partners and he’s being a huge creep pressing me for information about you, like he expects me to spy on you or something... Anyway, I figured with how fucking weird he always acts around you that you probably already knew.”   

You shake your head and hope to God the movement doesn’t cause your eyeballs to fall out of your sockets. You can’t remember if you’ve blinked over the course of the last five minutes.   

“I didn’t.” You squeak.    

His eyes go wide and you watch the color drain from his face.   

“Oh. Shit,” He says, “— well, like I said, you didn’t hear it from me.”    

You didn’t hear it from anybody. As far as you’re concerned, this conversation isn’t actually happening. Any moment now you’re going to snap out of whatever fugue state you’ve obviously just slipped into, and you’re going to find that this is all a dream – only your thigh is going raw from where you’ve been subtly pinching yourself. 

Still, you still don’t completely believe Gareth isn’t teasing you – this feels like dangerous ground and suddenly your guts are churning because you don’t know what to do with this information.

You don’t know how to make yourself understand that the one person who has always been wholly off-limits to you could suddenly be within your grasp.   

Possibility makes you ravenous and you have to fight to resist the urge to seize Gareth by the front of his torn flannel shirt and shake him, demanding more more more, that he tell you everything there is to know about Eddie and everything he’s ever said about you among the safety of friends.    

With a sharp pang, you realize that you’re suddenly violently jealous about the confidence he has to freely speak about the objects of his affections – evidently, you.  

The thought has warmth bleeding through your abdomen and filling up your chest cavity. You’re floating again, and you’re suddenly so, wickedly pleased.    

Carol would shit her pants if she found out.    

The rest of class comes and goes without incident, and you don’t hear a word of the lesson. 

You’re far too busy fantasizing about all your wildest dreams coming true, planning your future with Eddie, picturing your wedding and your first home together, growing old together, and all the road trips and holidays and milestones you’ll hit in between.

By the last twenty minutes of the lesson, you’re even toying with naming your children.   

You’re disgusting and pathetic and so far gone for him in such a stupid, irresponsible way. Only there’s one tiny little obstacle standing in the way of all of that.

Gareth says he’s not brave enough to talk to you, not without good reason, which is so painfully endearing, but a real problem because that makes two of you – you can barely even look at Eddie, let alone fathom trying to strike up a conversation. 

So, therein lies the problem. How on Earth are you supposed to marry him and have a hundred of his babies, as Carol had so eloquently put it, if neither of you can manage to buck up the courage to have a normal conversation?   

The bell is ringing before you can decide how to become a human being again, you’re still more cloud than girl when you catch Gareth as he begins packing up.   

“Listen, tell Eddie…” You start, feeling suddenly too shy to have his name in your mouth – it feels heavy on your tongue, forbidden, and you chicken out, “Tell him… that I don’t bite. If he wants to talk to me … then he should just come talk to me, right?”   

Gareth rolls his eyes,   

“I told him that, like, a hundred times… but I’ll tell him again. I’ll say you said so this time.”   

The promise pleases you immensely, only there is one glaring issue with that plan. He was never meant to tell you how Eddie supposedly feels about you. You’re not supposed to know he likes you.  

You bite your lip and feel your brows creep toward one another, forming a deep crease of worry between them.  

“Is that gonna get you in trouble?” You ask.  

Gareth opens his mouth to speak, then snaps it shut again as the words fail to come, like he too had very conveniently forgotten that the information he’d just passed to you was decidedly not for you.   

He hums thoughtfully, brows furrowed, and face pulled tight into a mask of displeased concentration.  

What to do, what to do.   

Finally, after a moment that feels like eternity, one you spend fidgeting with your fingers twisting them to the point of pain, holding a breath in your lungs almost like you’re afraid if you breathe he’ll take it all back.

Gareth shrugs.   

“...well, I don’t see why he needs to know that I’m the one who told you… people talk.”    

Truer words have never been spoken.   

A hundred years and a short lifetime ago, you and Carol spent an evening trading secrets and the deepest desires of your heart, and you jumped up and down on her springy mattress, screaming along to the Go-Go's and promising one another that, just like the song said, your lips were sealed.

You can’t help but wonder if she ever really meant it, if she would have laughed and recoiled and teased you mercilessly if you trusted her with your secret feelings about Eddie Munson. Only you had made the same decision and elected not to tell her even back then, even when your secrets were still safe with her.   

Can you hear them? They talk about us, telling lies, well, that’s no surprise.   

People talk, Gareth said.   

“They certainly do.”  You hum, shouldering your bag and following him out the door.