#don't you want me which they dance to in the van on their way to slay the twelve

[oksanas-sun]

self care is listening to music box covers of songs that remind you of villanelle/oksana (or ke in general)

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or

"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.

~~~~~

 “You're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.”

Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.

There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.

“Calm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?”

“I live somewhere ne...here.”

Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.

However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.

“I mean, what are you doing outside?”

Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.

The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.

“Don't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.”

“To do what?”

“To steal.” Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. “Nothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.”

“You're new to this, aren't you?”

“Is it that noticeable?”

“Pretty noticeable, yes.”

The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.

That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.

And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.

Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.

“Stop it. What do you want?”

“I study. You seem experienced. “

“People don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.”

“Really?”

Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.

“You're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.”

“Okay.”

Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.

“If I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where I…work?”

“Maybe. Is this a deal?”

“Yes, if you'll agree, idiot. “

Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.

“First of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.”

Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.

He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.

They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.

A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.

“Dude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?”

“Fine.” To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.

Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.

Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.

It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.

“Ma- Can I have your name?” Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. “Sorry!”

“Jason.”

Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.

“Real name! Real one!” The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. “You shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.”

“There are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?”

“You're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.”

Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?

“Well…You're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. “ Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.

“Friends?”

“Yes. Friends forever?” Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.

“Forever.” The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."

“Good. I'll remember.”

The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. “Jason is your name.”

“That's right, buddy.”

“I won't call you that name.” Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. “ I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.”

“Hah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. “

“Well, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.”

Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold.  So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.

On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and  just wants to listen.

Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.

When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.

A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts.  After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone  in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.

Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and  humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.

No.

It helped.

And then he died.

And things are getting worse by the day, hah.

~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~

Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.

Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.

“Hey! Don't touch B, you.. “Almost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply “... pointy-eared.”

A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.

“Man, is it you?”

Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.

“Jay! It's been a long time, my friend.” Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. “You've grown up a lot.”

“And you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.” Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. “It's from a dollar store, nothing special.”

John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?

“You gave it to me. That's why it's special.”

The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks too…magical…in every sense.

“Do you know him, Hood?” Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.

“No.”

“Yes.”  Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. “He was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.”

Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.

Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.

“Name!” Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. “He's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...”

“Oh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.” The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. “You're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.”

“Hm.” Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. “So what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?”

Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?

“Hm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.” The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. “But even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.”

The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.

“You are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.”

“No, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.” Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. “Only good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?”

“Wait. Is this Willis?” The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.

"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."

“Oh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.” Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.

“I prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.”

“Riiight…but still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~”

“Ja-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.” Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.

"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"

The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.

Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed and…

“Fuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.”

“Jason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?” Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.

“Oh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more important…Who would I rather stay with? Hm…Let's say, um, theoretically, of course…If your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?

"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."

“Yes, yes! Right!” Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. “See, that's how you should have reacted.”

Constantine: …What an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.

Come with me now to see my world

Where there's beauty beyond your dreams

Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins

[rxmqnova]

Winning you

Story: It's Wanda's birthday and Y/N is trying to win her over Vision… ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV It's Wanda's birthday today and Y/N's been super excited for it. She's planned a lot of things for the day and plans to finally confess her feelings for the witch at the end of it.

Y/N has a huge crush on Wanda ever since she met her. She's been wanting to tell her for a long time, but every time she's tried something happened, so hopefully she'll finally tell her tonight.

But Y/N is not the only one who has a crush on Wanda. There's also Vision who always happens to somehow drag Wanda away when her and Y/N are spending time together.

According to Y/N's plan, she starts with making breakfast for the birthday girl. She makes some pancakes, knowing Wanda loves them.

And once everything's ready, she picks everything up and starts walking upstairs to Wanda's room, meeting Vision half way through and receiving a not very nice look from him.

Y/N couldn't care less though. She's determined to win Wanda over for good.

As quietly as possible, she sets everything up on Wanda's desk, adding a little sweet note for Wanda when she wakes up.

Leaving Wanda's room again, she makes her way over to her own room to get ready for the day.

———

Holding the first gift for Wanda, Y/N makes her way back to the kitchen. Wanda should hopefully be there soon.

"Someone's in a good mood today" Natasha teases, seeing her best friend walk into the kitchen.

"Mhm. You know well why, so stop teasing. The day needs to be perfect" Y/N states, taking a seat on the barstool to wait for Wanda to come.

"Wanda will have the perfect day with me, don't worry" Vision interrupts, a smug smile on his face.

Before Y/N can respond, Wanda steps into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face, making Y/N's worries go away immediately as she gets lost in Wanda's beauty.

"Yeah, sure" Wanda's sweet voice gets Y/N back to reality, her eyes widening when she sees Vision talking to her and handing the brunette a bouquet of roses.

Vision's quick to send Y/N a smirk when he turns around to walk aside. Y/N shakes it off, making her way over to Wanda, a warm smile on her face.

"Happy birthday, Wands!"

"Thank you" Wanda smiles, her cheeks turning red a little bit. "And thank you for the breakfast. It was delicious"

"That was nothing. I-I got you something" Y/N says, nervousness taking over her as she hands Wanda the box she's been holding.

She watches nervously as Wanda opens the box and gasps when she finds inside an entire The Dick Van Dyke Show sitcom collection.

"How… how did you know?" Wanda asks, trying to stop the tears that are filling her eyes as this sitcom reminds her of her childhood.

"You mentioned you used to watch it with your family when you were small, so I thought you might like it" Y/N explains, immediately getting pulled into a tight hug by the brunette.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N" Wanda nearly whispers, giving Y/N a warm smile which Y/N returns.

"I. Hm. I-I was hoping that maybe you and I could have lunch together? I-I have planned something and-"

"Sorry to ruin that for you, but Wanda's already going out for lunch with me" Vision jumps in, cutting Y/N's sentence off.

"Oh… well, maybe when you come back we could spend some time together?"

"We'll go straight to Tony's party" Vision answers for Wanda who was about to say something. "Go get ready, darling. We should head out soon"

Vision rushes Wanda out of the kitchen, Wanda only having time to shoot Y/N an apologetic look.

Cursing under her breath Y/N watches as Vision disappears along with Wanda.

"He ruined everything, I planned a picnic for Wanda and he just needs to ruin it" Y/N sighs, looking at Natasha. "Why would he even take her out on lunch? He doesn't even eat food… Calm down, Y/N. You still can do it. Surely you'll have a chance to dance with her on the party. Then you'll take her on the balcony and give her the bracelet" Y/N takes a deep breath, calming herself down before turning around and going to her room, leaving an absolutely confused Natasha in the kitchen.

———

Spotting Wanda dancing with Vision Y/N heads straight to the bar, ordering a drink and taking a seat, watching the pair having fun.

But when two hours pass and Wanda is still with Vision, either dancing on sitting on the couch and sipping a drink, she stands up, deciding she needs some fresh air.

Tears fill her eyes as she sits down on the balcony, taking out of her purse the bracelet she bought for Wanda.

Wanda's always looked at this exact piece of jewelry every time they were passing the jewelry store and Y/N's been super excited to see Wanda's reaction once she would give it to her.

Thinking she completely lost her chance and Vision won Wanda's heart, the sweet voice speaks up behind her.

"There you are, I've been looking for you" Wanda says, taking a seat next to Y/N on which Y/N's quick to wipe away her tears. "What are you doing here all alone?"

"Just thinking" Y/N mumbles out, looking down on the ground to avoid any possible eye-contact with the witch. "Why are you here? It looked like you're having a good time with Vision"

"Well, having a good time is not how I would describe it" Wanda sighs.

"I… I have one more gift here for you. Can you close your eyes?" Y/N mumbles out a requests.

And just like Y/N wanted, Wanda closes her eyes, so Y/N takes Wanda's hand in hers, putting on the bracelet.

"Y/N" Wanda sighs. "This is too much. It's really beautiful and I really wanted it, but I know the price. I can't take it"

"Wanda, I'm not going to return it. I know how much you liked it and I want you to have it… I like the green gemstone in it, matches your beautiful eyes" Y/N smiles, noticing the pink color on Wanda's cheeks.

Instead of getting a verbal response, Wanda connects her lips with Y/N's. She's been wanting to do this for as long as Y/N has and today only proved her right… that Y/N feels the same way.

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

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WANDA!!! <33

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[alexiaput3llas]

Game of Love/ Alexia Putellas x Reader

Warnings: Nothing but fluff. Maybe one swear word

Author: So this is my first time writing, because I always wanted to try it and I have to say I´m a vey slow writer but it is a lot of fun. Also english is not my first language anyways enjoy (-;

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You barely get nervous, but here you are. You're about to head out to the pitch. It is the Champions League final 2024, and Barcelona is facing none other than the mighty Lyon. But this Barcelona is different from the ones that lost to Lyon before. This Barcelona is determined to win.

You get pulled out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You recognize that touch among billions, and her scent will forever be your favorite. Alexia and you have been dating for four years.

You signed to Barcelona 6 Years ago and Alexia and you immediately clicked. You became friends with her on instant and after some time you started to devolve a small huge crush on her. What you didn’t realize that she felt the same, but after a night out with the team to celebrate your Copa de la Reina victory, where everyone, including Alexia, drank a bit too much, things between you and her got really heated and after some shameless flirting on both sides, grinding on each other on the dance floor and some more drinks, you found yourself the next morning in an unfamiliar hotel room with brown hair sprawled everywhere. You couldn´t help but admire her and hoped that also for her this was not only a one night stand. So after she woke up, you both got to talk and finally admitted your feelings for each other.

And here you are now, facing your lover, who only for you breaks her serious game face, which, in your opinion, is one of the most attractive things in the world, into an encouraging smile. "Are you ready, mi amor?" Alexia, of course, notices your nervous state. "You don't have to be nervous, okay? We are a different team now, and you have the season of your life." It is true; you have the season of your life and have already won the league. "Thanks, baby, I really needed that." She nods, gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, on your nose, your right cheek, your left cheek, and finally, your lips.

You can't help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach, and you smile into the kiss. "Break it up, lovebirds, will ya!" Mapi chuckles behind you. You break away from Alexia's soft lips, giggle, and hug your girlfriend. "I love you," you mumble in her neck. "And I love you more." She steps out of your embrace and kisses the top of your head. Just about when you wanted to protest that you love her more, she shuts you up with one final kiss to your lips and eventually takes her spot to lead out the team.

The game couldn't start any worse. In the third minute of the game, Ada Hegerberg scored a beauty, leaving Cata Coll no chance. In the 20th minute, it was 2:0 Lyon, thanks to Van de Donk. Only 5 minutes afterward, Ada Hegerberg scored her second goal of the evening, and it was 3:0. You immediately got flashbacks to Turin 2 years ago, but you had to shake these thoughts out of your head. Lyon presses high, and Barcelona was lucky not to concede any more goals. The ref blew the halftime whistle, and both teams headed to the changing rooms.

Everyone's heads hang low. I sit at my cubby talking with Aitana about strategies when I feel a presence next to me. It was Alexia, who immediately joined our conversation to outline the game. She placed one hand on my thigh and gave it a few encouraging squeezes. Jonathan came in: “Chicas, nothing is lost yet. We all know what we're capable of, and if anyone can turn the game around, it's Barca. Vamos!”. "VAMOS!" Everyone in the changing room knew that this game was not over, and with new hope and confidence, we headed out to the pitch to start the second half.

And with confidence, we played. We started the second half way better, and after only ten minutes, after an amazing pass from Alexia, Aitana could find the back of the net. And that was all we needed.

A corner kick, Mariona made it 3:2.

Alexia passed the ball to you, and you began to run down the field, suddenly having a lot of open space. Just as you were about to shoot, you felt some cleats colliding with your ankle, making you stumble to the ground in pain. Your ankle throbbed, and not long after, the medics arrived.

At the same time, Alexia shoved Ada, who made the tackle. "You could've hurt her. That has to be a fucking card!" Ada shoved Alexia back and growled, "I didn't fucking touch her. She fell to the ground because of nothing." Just as Alexia was about to respond, with what would have definitely been a hard push, Mapi grabbed her. "Ale, calm down. Let her go! Y/N needs you more. She isn't worth it." With one last angry glare at Ada, Alexia made its way to you. "Mi amor, are you okay?" "Peachy," you responded. "Is it bad?" Alexia mumbled to the physios. "No, it's alright. She's alright to continue to play."

The tackle was rewarded with a free kick, which Alexia easily slotted into the top left corner. You ran to her, and all gathered in a big hug. "Freaking yes, Baby. What a goal!" You gave her a secret kiss on her neck.

With now only 5 more minutes left on the clock, everything hurt. But you couldn't just give up. You sprinted to recover a ball and sent it to Patri, who dribbled around one Lyon Player and passed it back to you. And you did what you can do best. Shoot. You just took the shot. And…

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!" Everyone was screaming from the top of their lungs. Your shot probably won Barca the Champions League. With only a few minutes left, Barcelona did everything they could to defend their lead, and that was what you did. Throwing in every ball, running even though it hurt.

The whistle blew. Barcelona had done it. You are the champions of Europe once again. You sank to your knees, overwhelmed with emotions. You soon locked eyes with those sparkling hazel eyes, and a beaming smile made its way across your face, as does it with Alexia. You made your way over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of, Ale," you mumbled into her neck. "And I'm so unbelievably proud of you, mi amor. That goal was a beauty." You chuckled. "It still feels surreal. I mean, we won it now for the third time, but I never get tired of it." You looked up at her, and the desire to just kiss her grew inside of you. The way her eyes sparkled, her teeth-showing smile, and a look of adoration towards you only intensifies it.

Without hesitation, you fulfill your desire and press your lips against Alexia's. The taste of victory is sweeter than any championship, and in that moment, the world disappears around you. The cheers from the stadium, the flashing cameras, and the ecstatic teammates fade into the background, leaving only you and Alexia, lost in the celebration of your shared triumph.

Breaking the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, breathing in sync as the magnitude of the moment sinks in. The elation, the relief, and the sheer joy are palpable, and you can't help but grin. "We did it," you whisper, more to yourself than to Alexia, as if saying it out loud would make the reality even more concrete.

"We did," she replies, her voice filled with a mix of happiness and disbelief. "I knew you'd make a difference, but that last goal..." She trails off, shaking her head in amazement.

The team gathers around, enveloping both of you in a collective embrace. Laughter, cheers, and the occasional tear of happiness mingle as you bask in the glory of the victory. Champagne bottles pop open, and the sparkling liquid showers everyone, marking the end of a long and challenging journey.

Amidst the jubilation, you steal a moment alone with Alexia. Hand in hand, you slip away from the chaos and find a quiet corner of the stadium. The echo of cheers becomes a distant hum as you lean against a railing, gazing out at the pitch where the triumph unfolded. She pushed you gently against the wall and kissed you softly, with so much love. After a few minutes, you broke apart and rested your foreheads together.

"It's incredible, isn't it?" Alexia murmurs, her eyes reflecting the shimmering lights of the stadium. "All those years of hard work, the setbacks, the victories, and now... this." She gestures to the field below, still alive with the energy of the recently concluded match.

You nod, a profound sense of accomplishment settling in your chest. "And to think it all started with that Copa de la Reina celebration."

Alexia chuckles, her hand finding yours. "A night we'll never forget."

And with that, you join your teammates again for the celebrations.

You knew that whatever will happen on the pitch, you would always have a safe place off the pitch.

Alexia

[romancefranaticstay]

☆.｡.:* Neighbor ☆.｡.:*

Neighbor!Jeongin x fem!reader

Category: fluff ❤

Warnings: ♥ None ♥ (but... maybe a little smut towards the end)

Note: A short story about some neighbor fluff, very romantic (in mine opinion), i hope you enjoy!

Xoxo

Rachel

You were wearing headphone's, jumping around with your music.

"I bring, I bring all the Drama-ma-ma-ma (hey, hey) I bring drama-ma-ma-ma (hey, hey) With my girls in the back"

You singed, making some little dance move's.

'나로 시작되는 drama (all that)'

You were heading towards your house when you saw a moving van. That's weird, you didn't move, did you? You snuck a little closer and saw a new family moving into the house next door.

You saw two people standing there, they were probably a couple. They looked quite old, maybe they had children. Oh! That would be so nice, to finally have friends in your neighborhood.

You went inside and grabbed a snack from the fridge. You didn't have much to do before school tomorrow, so you could finally get some rest and enjoy these beautiful spring days.

─── ❤ ── დ ── ❤ ───── ❤ ── დ ── ❤ ────── ❤ ── დ ── ❤

Eventually you started to get bored in your room. You went downstairs to your garden. Your garden was so beautiful, because all the sunlight always shone in your garden.

Beautiful, but a few clouds in the sky. The trees glistened in the sunlight, everything looked more beautiful than usual. Suddenly you heard a voice.

'안녕하세요, Hey.'

You looked around to see where the voice came from. You looked to your right and saw a boy leaning against the gate of your garden. He had black hair that fell slightly over his eyes.

"Hey."

"Do you live here?"

'No, I'm just sitting in their garden, sorry, I'm being sarcastic again. Yes, I live here.'

"So you're my new neighbor?"

'Ahh, so you are our new neighbors, welcome to the neighborhood by the way. It's very quiet here, so you're going to love it here.'

"I'm sure I'll like it here." he said under his breath.

"So, what are you doing?"

"I was actually listening to music."

'Can I listen in?'

"Of course, come."

He carefully opened the gate and approached you. When he came closer, you could observe his face better. He was actually very beautiful. He calmly took the headphones from your head and placed them near his ears.

"I know this song!"

'Really? What's it called then?'

'Let me think...

I'm a 퀸카 I'm a 퀸카 I'm a, I'm a, I'm a 퀸카 I'm a 퀸카 "

he started to sing. You laughed, he could actually sing very nicely.

"So you know it."

'Of course I know. Can I show you some songs?'

"Sure, go ahead."

He grabbed your phone and started typing something on Spotify. You recognized the lyrics immediately.

“Ahh, BTS run.

손 뻗어봤자 금세 깨버릴 꿈 (꿈, 꿈) 미칠 듯 달려도 또 제자리일 뿐 (뿐, 뿐)

그냥 날 태워줘, 그래, 더 밀쳐 내줘 이건 사랑에 미친 멍청이의 뜀박질 ..."

You both started laughing.

"Actually, I should be helping my parents, so... I'll see you later?"

'Yep, ofcourse.'

He waved and went out of sight. Finally someone to be friends with, or so you thought...

─── ❤ ── დ ── ❤ ───── ❤ ── დ ── ❤ ────── ❤ ── დ ── ❤

Every day you learned something new about him. He had a big brother and a little brother. He likes his personal space and he has some different tastes in music. His favorite colors are also Coral and Teal. He also has a lot of passion for music.

He told something about his friends, it doesn't mean that he has moved that he has to change schools. You've already heard of someone named Seungmin and Changbin. They sound very funny. He is the youngest of his group of friends.

You sat with him in his room, you lay on his bed.

"You know, I'd love to build a time machine and go back to the '90s."

'How so?' Jeongin asked.

"I just want to see how everything works there."

'Do you like the 90s concept?'

'Yes of course! The hair, the clothing style, the stuff, wow.'

'Yes, that's possible.'

'Which era do you find most interesting?'

'I don't really know, maybe just this time, because we live in the moment now. We live now and not in the past. We will never be able to live in the past, so why compare this time to the others?"

“Wow, very poetic Jeongin.”

'Am I wrong?'

"No, in a strange way it all makes a lot of sense."

"Let's change the subject."

"Okay sure, what do you want to talk about?"

'Maybe about love? Do you believe in soulmates?'

'Me? I don't know, sometimes I feel like there's one person for everyone. But sometimes I think that certain people just fit together because of certain interests. And you?'

'I don't know, I think so. I want to live with the idea that there is someone for me, who suits me exactly. Okay, maybe not exactly, but still.' 'Yes..'

"You know, this might sound really weird, but maybe I can try out my flirting techniques on you?"

"Sure, but don't think it'll work."

'Bet?'

"Okay bet."

He came next to you on the bed. He grabbed your hand with one hand and caressed your cheeks with the other.

"Do you think that'll work?"

"Shh, I wasn't ready yet."

He breathed deeply and started looking into your eyes.

“You always look like an angel Y/N.”

'Am I an angel? More like a devil.'

He rolled his eyes and turned back to you. He looked from your eyes to your lips and vice versa. He touched your lips with his thumb, your heart skipped a beat.

“These lips Y/N, these lips, the most beautiful thing.”

You couldn't say anything anymore, what could you say? Your hands slid to his hands. Even though he was so confident, his hands were a bit sweaty.

His face moved closer to yours and... he kissed your cheek softly.

'And? Good flirting techniques?' he says as you still hold his hands.

You cleared your throat.

'Yes, quite good, yes, I have heard better.'

'Are you sure?'

'Sure.' you avoided eye contact.

He turned your face so you were looking at him.

'A bad liar.'

Suddenly he pinned you down on the bed.

'And now?'

'Hmmm, it could be better.'

His eyes fell on your neck, he grinned. His mouth came closer to your neck, so close that you felt his warm breath on your so sensitive skin. His tongue made small circles on your neck, leaving small bites.

'And now?'

'It's better already.'

"I can always make it better."

His face came closer to yours, so close that you were about to kiss, but he only kissed your forehead.

Your puppy dog ​​eyes looked up at him. You wanted more... but not in a bad way. He wanted to leave again, but you didn't just let him go. You grabbed his face and pressed your lips together.

His eyes went wide, but he didn't back down. When your lips parted again, he just stared at you in surprise.

"How about that?" you said with a very big grin on your face.

You got up and went to his door.

“This was fun, I'll see you tomorrow. Same hour.”

You wanted to open the door but he stopped you.

"Do you think you'll leave now?"

He kissed you again and pushed you against the door a little. You felt his hands over your body, it couldn't be more romantic.

You looked down and saw that the bulge in his pants was big. He saw what you were looking at.

"Are you going to help me with this?"

'With pleasure.'

You said, leaving small kisses on his face.

─── ❤ ── დ ── ❤ ───── ❤ ── დ ── ❤ ────── ❤ ── დ ── ❤

[augustjustice]

Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball

AO3 Link

It's the Winter of 1999, and Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are standing outside the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball, sharing a smoke.

Eddie can't believe he's back here, the whole thing feeling nearly as surreal as that nightmare, wayward Spring Break over ten years ago. He'd barely made it out of that hell hole alive, Steve himself practically having to hold Eddie together as they made their way from Forest Hill to Hawkins Memorial Hospital.

Spring had turned into summer, sweltering and oppressive as Eddie slowly, painfully healed.

There had been bright spots, though. Watching Lucas and Erica squabble during the one-shot campaign he had cooked up just for the party that June. Evenings out beside the Harrington's temperature controlled pool, beer bottle sweating in his hand as he traded a joint back and forth between Argyle and Jonathan, the sound of Robin's cackle loud and bright as she managed to hipcheck Steve into the pool. Steve's own blinding smile--a longtime feature of Eddie's secret high school fantasies--being turned on him the first time he made it from the front doors of the physical therapy clinic to the passenger side of his BMW, without needing any help at all.

But then summer had ended, and Eddie, finally back together again like a character out of a children's nursery rhyme, had packed up his van and headed straight to Chicago, not looking back.

Sure, there'd been post cards sent, phone calls to Dustin and the other Hellfire brats, promises to see everyone soon. Promises that Eddie couldn't keep, even if he wanted to.

Not when he didn't dare set foot in Hawkins, not ever again.

Then, over a decade into his second life as a struggling guitarist by night, record shop employee by day, his cousin Brooke had landed on his doorstep, looking too tired and too young all at once, a bruise around her eye. Behind her, her eleven year old son was studying the apartment hall's tiling.

"I left him." Eddie didn't need an explanation for that one. Her good-for-nothing husband, Nash. "Jake won't be any trouble, he just...needs a place to stay, while I get back on my feet. Somewhere his daddy can't find him. Just for a little while."

Eddie thought of his Mama. And then he called Wayne.

"Shit, Uncle Wayne, I--don't know what to do."

"Come on home now, boy," Wayne said, easy as anything, like Eddie had left only yesterday. "Come on back home."

So Eddie had.

That had been six months ago. And now he was standing in the aforementioned middle school parking lot with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, while their kids--and wasn't that just a fucking head trip and a half--danced the night away.

"I keep half expecting Click to round the corner screaming my name," Eddie admits as he gives Steve a light. "Remember junior year, I sold to you in the alley behind the gym? Old bat nearly got me that time."

"Remember? I literally had to shove that joint down the front of my shorts, dude," Steve admits, which draws a snort out of Eddie to match his own chuckle. "Most of the guys on the basketball team couldn't move half as fast as you did that day. You practically vanished into the woods before she even made it to the stadium. Totally shoulda gone out for the track team, Eds."

Eddie clutches his chest, as though he's been shot. "Don't speak such blasphemy to me, Harrington."

"Yeah, well, you can quit worrying. Pretty sure she finally retired," Steve tells him, taking a long drag before he's passing the cigarette back to Eddie, even that brief touch enough to send sparks of electricity up Eddie's arm. Then he shoots Eddie that charming, infamous Harrington smile, boyish and cocky, the one that says he's used to getting exactly what he wants. "Even if she's not, I'm head of the PTA. If Higgins tries anything, I'll just threaten not to bring cupcakes to the next bake sale."

"Harrington, my hero," Eddie fakes a swoon, collapsing for a brief second against Steve's shoulder, an excuse to get close.

The theatrics get no rise out of Steve beyond an amused smirk. Even after all these years, he's still used to Eddie's antics, it seems.

"You know, it was total déjà vu," he nods to the middle school gymnasium, all decked out in blue and white, "dropping Sam off here."

Though he's actually gotten to know the Harrington offspring in person since he's been back, Eddie had received the rundown from Dustin and the others on Steve's journey to dadhood in their scattered calls over the years.

The December after Eddie had left, Steve had met a girl, taken her out on a few dates, and accidentally gotten her pregnant.

With Samantha, a name Dustin had proudly persuaded Steve into as the little girl's godfather. Every bit as adorable, now that Eddie had seen her, as the gushing picture the party had painted for him, all big blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair just like her father's.

Steve had gotten down on one knee long before she was born, determined to tie the knot and do right by her mother nearly as soon as he'd heard the news.

The pair had been divorced not even two years later.

"I don't think they were ever really in love," Dustin had informed Eddie one sunny afternoon impromptu of nothing, as always blunt in his honesty. "But you know what Steve is like. He's a hopeless romantic."

Eddie didn't, not exactly. But he's gotten enough glimpses, both back in '86 and much more recently, that he's starting to put the picture together.

Steve draws Eddie out of that particular reverie with another bright laugh. And then he's recounting the memory of Dustin's hair, done up in the infamous Harrington 'do, as Steve pulled up in front of the '84 Snow Ball playing chaperone in his trusty Beemer, long since traded in for the much more affordable sedan he's driving now.

"I demand photographic evidence, Harrington," Eddie insists, smile crooked, that distracting dimple appearing in his right cheek, "you can't conjure up an image like that and then not fork over the goods."

"Hey, man, talk to Dustin. Mrs. Henderson took like...a million pictures that night," Steve laughs.

But he's already mentally going through the album tucked away on a bookcase back at home, positive he's got his own photo to show for it. It'll make for a nice excuse to invite Eddie over for dinner one night.

The subject turns then to their own checkered experiences with school dances.

"Class of '85, baby! That's when they made your 'King Steve' title official," Eddie crows, teasing as he taps Steve once on the nose.

Steve goes a bit cross-eyed, following the movement of his finger.

"Yeah, well, talk about a total let-down of a night. I didn't even bring a date," Steve admits, tone blasé. The truth is, his entire senior year had been something of a disappointed trudge towards graduation, a walk he had taken mostly alone. There had been bright spots--the little band of miscreants he'd fallen into babysitting, for one--but they had all been far outside the walls of Hawkins High. "I'm guessing you weren't around for that? Not really your scene, especially with the Munson Doctrine's strict rules about 'forced conforming.'"

He puts Eddie's words in deliberate air quotes, his turn to give him a teasing smile.

"You're wrong about that one, big boy. I saw them, adorning your glorious locks with the crown." That mischievous smile is back. "We're not that old, dude, don't tell me you already forgot the whole 'prom streaking' incident?"

Eddie shoots him a loaded, deliberate look.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Shaking his head with a laugh, Steve waves his arms in front of him, like he's calling a time out. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That was you?"

"The one and only. What can I say, Jeff and Gareth dared me. Besides, by that point," Eddie shrugs casually, "I already knew I didn't have a shot at graduating anyway, so. Thought I'd close out the year with a bang."

"You've seriously never considered doing anything halfway in your life, have you, Munson?" Steve asks, giving Eddie's shoulder an almost exasperated nudge, smile fond in spite of himself.

"Absolutely not, Stevie boy. Life's too short. Where's the fun in playing it safe?"

Eddie swings into Steve's space, then, dark eyes sparkling. Goading and flirtatious. Just like when they were teenagers, thrown together in the worst of circumstances but making the best of it, before time and pain and trauma put all that distance between them.

And if Steve's eyes drop down to Eddie's lips as they share air, slow enough it can't be anything but deliberate, and their fingers brush just a tad too intimately the next time they trade the cigarette back and forth...well. They've got a lot of lost time--and shared smokes in school parking lots--to make up for.

[writingjjfics]

Pogues to the rescue!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader, Platonic!Pogues x kook!reader

Summary: JJ and the Pogues come to rescue Y/n from her Kook family party.

Warnings: Kooks

Requested?: Yes! See request here!

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Guess who's back? back again? It's moi! I apologize for how extremely long this took, life got in the way 🙂 also I did change the request a bit, and got some inspiration from the midsummers episode, hope that's okay! Oh and Sarah is not part of the Pogues for the sake of the story (not my gif)

The last few hours of your life have been a bore. You were stuck at this table with egocentric old kook people who could only talk about their 'perfect' lives and their well-succeeded grandchildren. You tried your best to show interest, but your mind kept drifting off. You nodded politely at them, and every so often, you mustered up a fake smile to make them think that you were listening to their boring stories.

When you noticed that their attention was no longer on you, which was hardly surprising considering how egocentric they all are, you quietly got up from the table and left. After quickly scanning the backyard in search of your mother, you, fortunately, spotted her in a conversation with her best friends. Taking advantage of the opportunity, you made your way inside the house to use the bathroom.

As you sat down on the toilet, you felt relieved. Not only because you could finally pee, but also after hours of miserably pretending to be anything close to a Kook, you could let your guard down here, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Taking your phone from your clutch, you check for any notifications that you might have missed in the last few hours. While scrolling through Instagram, you noticed your boyfriend had posted a video on his story. In the video, JJ was smoking his Juul, surrounded by the rest of the Pogues who were dancing and singing to some song in the background.

JJ's happy smile, as he hung out with the Pogues, made you feel a sense of joy for him. The Pogues are his true family and he deserves to be this happy and comfortable all the time. Sometimes you were jealous of their relationship. Even though your family has money and shows their love and care for you in their own, unique way, you've always felt like you don't quite fit in with them. It's as if you're the odd one out. At least the Pogues always have each other and their bond is unbreakable.

You snapped a quick selfie and sent it to JJ, showing him how extremely bored you were. After putting your phone back in your clutch bag, you let out a deep sigh, realizing you had to get back to the party before your mom would put up 'missing child' posters. However, as you reached for the door handle, you heard your ringtone go off. A picture you had taken of JJ at the beach during sunset a few weeks ago, filled your phone screen. A warm feeling spread through your chest as you answered the phone, grateful that he had taken the time to call you back.

"Party that bad, huh?", JJ chuckled as he spoke.

"If I have to listen to these fake people for a minute longer, I'll pull a van Gogh myself"

You could hear JJ snickering. "That's one way to answer that question"

"Can't you just hack into a system and send some emergency alert or something?", you whined.

"Honey, I'm definitely not as smart as Pope, but what I can do is try to sneak you away?"

"Tempting as that sounds, my mom would kill me"

"C'mon baby, we both know your mom loves her reputation too much to kill her daughter", JJ joked.

You rolled your eyes. "Very funny JJ, besides I don't want to be a burden to the rest of the Pogues."

You heard JJ scoff. Since knowing JJ, you've met the Pogues a few times, yet each meeting seemed to grow more awkward than the previous one. JJ always reassures you that the rest of the Pogues just have a hard time getting comfortable around the idea that he is dating a kook, or well just kooks in general, and that it's never because of your personality. "Before you know it, they will love you as much as I do", was what he told you occasionally. But you just can't help taking it personal.

"Y/n, stop being so stubborn, and let us help you. I want you here as much as you want to leave that party. Be ready in ten. I won't take no for an answer."

You were about to protest, but before you could, the distant chatter of the other Pogues in the background went silent, indicating that JJ had already ended the call.

After giving yourself a final look in the mirror and letting out another heavy breath, you opened the door and made your way back to the party outside.

Everyone was still engrossed in conversation, and it appeared that no one noticed you had been gone. It gives you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to slip away from the party without your parents noticing. However, at the same time, you can't help but recall a few years ago when you did the same thing, only to receive a month-long grounding from them.

After nervously looking ahead for a while, and making up different scenarios in your head, you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder. Irritated, thinking it's one of your parents wanting to remind you to be more social, you turn around.

"You look like you could use another drink. Can I maybe offer you this one?"

In front of you stood JJ, dressed up as a waiter, holding a champagne glass. He gave you that annoying but charming smirk of his.

You took the champagne from him and chugged the entire drink, making JJ chuckle.

"Thanks, you always know exactly what I need babe"

You and JJ both laughed and you turned around looking for your parents. Your mother was still talking to her friends, while your father discussed work matters as usual.

"C'mon, let's go before my parents see us leaving". You were still nervous about the consequences, but decided that, that would be a problem for later. There's nothing you want more than to be with JJ right now.

JJ took your hand and quickly led you to the front of the house. Before reaching the gate, he suddenly stopped and gave you a kiss.

"Hi baby", he spoke softly.

You smiled. "Hi, Jay".

JJ gestured with his head towards the gate. "The others are right outside waiting for us." He squeezed your hand to reassure you that it was going to be okay. You nodded and followed him.

As you turned the corner, you saw the rest of the Pogues waiting next to the Twinkie. They were talking, but stopped abruptly when they saw the two of you approaching. Pope waved shyly towards you, while John B approached you enthusiastically. "That was quick"

"Yeah, I thought those kooks would give you more trouble", Kie said, rolling her eyes and emphasizing the words 'those kooks'. You saw Pope nudge Kiara. “Sorry, no offense to you of course”, she quickly realized her mistake. You smiled weakly and shrugged your shoulder. 'Well, luckily I don't see myself as a Kook'.

There was an awkward silence until JJ cleared his throat and walked over to the Twinkie to open the door. "Let's go back to the Chateau shall we?"

You got into the back of the Twinkie first, expecting JJ to follow you, but instead, it was Kie and Pope as John B and JJ got into the front seats having their own conversation. Kie sat beside you and turned toward you.

"Hey, I want to apologize if we ever made you feel unwelcome. We just had to get used to a new person in the group, but we see how happy you make JJ and that is the most important thing for us."

"Yeah, and you're real nice and fun to hang out with Y/n", Pope added.

You smiled, "Thanks, that means a lot to me."

"And I'm actually happy there is finally a girl in this group, I love these boys but I also really need some girl time", Kiara said making everyone laugh.

You locked eyes with JJ who was already smiling and gave you a wink. A few seconds later you heard your phone go off and saw that you received a text from JJ that said "I told you they were going to love you." You rolled your eyes at him, but chuckled nonetheless. You finally felt like you belonged there.

The rest of the night was spent hanging out at the Chateau, laughing, dancing, and getting to know the Pogues better.

As for your parents, you later found out that they had tried to call you many times that night, so you ended up being grounded again, but you really couldn't care less because JJ and the Pogues were helping you through it. They would always be there for you.

aaaah the end!! so so happy I finally finished a fic again. I was busy with my graduation project and had massive writers block, but I'm back! So if you have any requests or you just want to talk to me? LMK ❤️ Okay, love you byee x

[lovebugism]

i need more of “the customer is always right” before i wither away and die <3 the anticipation of IT happening is quite literally killing me ilysm

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | b-minus

summary: eddie munson takes the unconquerable english midterm that's forced him to repeat senior year two times. dustin henderson gets a pep talk. uncle wayne gives his nephew a warning. you cook your eddie spaghetti some spaghetti. (17k)

pairing: virgin!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: idiots in love, experienced!reader, domestic bliss, staying the night, eddie munson tries to get used to being loved TW probable typos, swearing, discussions of being poor, talks of insecurities, kissing, heavy petting, oral sex (m!receiving) 18+ only!!

a/n: hi. hello. me again. you probably don't remember me because it's been almost TWO MONTHS. i'm really sorry about that btw this semester of college was sent from the actual depths of hell. please take this sixth installment of tcar and find it in your heart to forgive me <3 ily all xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

“Okay, this is officially the last time I let you drive me anywhere,” Eddie gripes from the passenger seat of your too tiny car as one excruciatingly happy ABBA song bleeds into another.

He shouldn’t have expected anything less. You’re made of the same stuff you listen to — sunshine and melted ice cream and summer breezes. You match the blue skies above you as you belt the lyrics to the song you seem to know by heart.

The sight makes Eddie grin to himself, still beaming no matter how hard he rolls his eyes.

This was the only good thing about the breaks of his van going haywire and having to bum a ride to school from you — getting to see more of you in your element. 

As much as he loved having you in his passenger seat, bobbing your head to whatever rock song he’d popped into the cassette player, there was something entirely different about seeing you in the driver’s seat.

This car was your safe space, spotted with stickers on the console and polaroids on the speedometer, where you could sing any damn ABBA song you wanted to because it was your own little bubble where nothing could touch you. 

Eddie’s grateful you let him see it, all these parts of you that you reveal slowly to him like so many tiny rays of sunshine.

It’s even better to witness with a full stomach, which was maybe the second good thing about driving with you. You picked him up with time to spare to get breakfast — to take the long route to school and watch the rising sun sparkle over Lover’s Lake. There was no reason to speed through town like a maniac because he wasn’t in a rush. Today might be the first time all year he’s not five minutes late to first period.

He tells you to sing louder when you get all shy and hyperaware of his gaze, feeding you bits of your breakfast — but only on the instrumental parts so you don’t miss your favorites. The boy props his arm on the center console and folds down the wrapper of your greasy, plain biscuit with his thumb so it doesn’t get in the way of your bite. He doesn’t even complain when you try to sing through the mouthful. 

He figures that this is what love is. A part of it, at least. That stupid, philosophical feeling people have been trying to describe for ages is sitting right beside him — with crumbs sticking to the corners of her mouth as she mixes up the words to the Dancing Queen chorus.

Love isn’t butterflies or tight chests — it’s this. It’s letting a person listen to music you hate because you know they love it and not caring that they’re singing horrifically off-key.

And it’s not like Eddie’s in love with you or anything. He’s just got a lot of adoration for you. It’s the kind of innocent affection that makes him love ABBA and think you’re one of the best damn singers he’s ever heard in his life — even though neither would be particularly true if he didn’t care about you so much.

It’s sort of like the love he’s got for Dustin, to still care about the little shrimp even when he’s annoying him to no end. But, at the same time, it’s not like that at all. Because Dustin Henderson isn’t the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Dustin Henderson doesn’t make him feel like his heart is being trampled by an entire stampede of zoo animals. 

No one quite makes Eddie feel the way you do. But even if he was in love with you, he’s got no way of knowing the difference — between loving and being in love. The only thing he’s really sure of is that he doesn’t know a damn thing. And that the sick feeling in his stomach he gets every time he looks at you can’t possibly be normal.

“Oh, stop being such a baby,” you retort. Your words come slurred and slightly muffled through the bite of biscuit in your cheek. “I know you secretly like it.”

“Of course I do!” he shouts over the catchy bass guitar and your subsequent laughter. “It’s just not the kinda shit I wanna listen to right before I take the biggest test of my life.”

It’s true. The past two times he’s been forced to take Ms. O’Donnell’s impossible midterm exam, he's listened to the exact same song — ‘Ride the Lightning,’ Metallica. It’s the only song that gives him enough of an adrenaline rush to gather the confidence to fail the same test. Twice. 

Eddie Munson is a creature of habit. Today marks the third anniversary of the dreaded day that makes or breaks his high school career, but instead of spending it with Metallica, he’s spending it with you. He wants to believe you’re a good luck charm or some kind of lucky omen, but he’s terrified of getting his hopes up.

Expect the worst, and you’ll never be disappointed. That’s what Uncle Wayne always said.

“I think ‘When I Kissed the Teacher’ has plenty of useful advice, Eddie Spaghetti.”

The boy turns to you with a bemused wide-eyed gaze. “If you’re suggesting I makeout with Ms. O’Donnell to pass her class, I’m gonna hurl— like actually hurl. And I will deliberately do it all over the floor of your car.”

“Would you rather repeat your senior year? Again?”

“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat and with a very enthusiastic nod that makes his wild curls sway around his face. “I would rather be a senior for the rest of my life than kiss Ms. O’Donnell.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you won’t have to, right? Because you’re totally gonna ace this thing.”

This is what you’ve been doing for over a week now — twisting everything negative into something more overtly positive. You meet Eddie’s pessimism and self-doubt with a sort of hopefulness he lost somewhere between the first and second time he got held back. 

You force him to study in the gentlest way possible because you’re never anything but soft with him. You make him pretty little flashcards and flip through them with him on the opposite side of his bed, obviously more enthusiastic about the whole thing than he is. You give him sympathetic pecks on his cheek when he gets a question wrong and kiss him totally breathless when he gets the odd one right.

Eddie would be lying if he said the incentive didn’t help at least a little bit.

There is no hint of impatience or sign of hubris that makes him feel stupid. You just teach him to be kinder to himself with tiny little reminders that you’re doing all this right along with him.

“Considering I’ve failed it twice already, I highly doubt that, sweetheart,” he counters, and he’s kidding — mostly. He says it with a teasing lilt and a twinkle in his squinted eyes, but you know that’s his way of covering up that he’s totally serious. 

He really doesn’t think he can do it, pass this stupid exam. He’s got absolutely no faith in himself — but that’s okay, because you’ve got all the faith in him in the world.

“Well, that’s because you didn’t have me to help you study,” you argue, just before accepting the last piece of biscuit he plucks from the parchment and offers to you.

You speak through the mouthful. “But now you do! And we’ve been going over this all week and—” You cut yourself off to swallow the dry pastry. “—And you totally got this. You’re gonna blow ‘em outta the park, Eddie Spaghetti. I can feel it.”

Your optimism makes him smile even though he doesn’t really feel like smiling. He lolls his head against the seat to look at you, finds you with a pretty grin and tiny biscuit crumbs on the corners of your mouth, and has the sudden urge to tell you that he loves you.

It comes out of nowhere. It bubbles up all at once like vomit and startles him with its unexpectedness. The sudden and unfamiliar feeling makes him feel sick, like he just went upside down on a rollercoaster. Whoever said love felt like butterflies was a liar because it feels a whole lot more like getting punched in the stomach.

The words rise from his throat like bile and linger on the edge of his tongue. Eddie forces himself to swallow them back down again. The unsaid ‘Holy fuck, I love the shit outta you’ tastes far more bitter going down.

“What do I get if I ace it then, huh?” he wonders after an awkward blink of silence.

“Uh, I don’t know,” you shrug. “Your diploma.”

“I meant as a reward, dummy.”

“I feel like graduating high school is enough of a reward.”

“I just think I should be compensated for a job well done, is all,” he proposes with a lopsided grin. The teasing nature of his words drips from his mouth like honey.

You glance at him once, eyes wide and dumbfounded, then back to the road. “Eddie Munson…” you scold in a lighthearted lilt. “Get your head outta the gutter. It’s not even eight o’clock.”

That sort of thing wouldn’t have bothered you before. Any other time, you would’ve been all too happy to pull over and jerk him off in a barren parking lot, relieve all his pent-up stress about the exam in the form of a quick handjob. But you’ve been quite obviously keeping your hands to yourself since he told you he was a virgin. 

You were serious about what you said before, about starting over, and Eddie learned that very quickly. You take to giving him tiny little pecks on the cheek and holding his sweaty hand in yours and hardly anything else — like you’re a couple of kids going steady.

Eddie likes it, though, the comforting nature of your unhurried disposition. He just hates the ache it leaves him with.

“It’s all I’m gonna be thinking about,” he confesses with a scrunched nose. “Just so ya know.”

“As long as it helps you pass,” you respond with the shake of your head.

“As long as it helps me pass…” Eddie echoes, quieter. 

“Just think about the biggest kiss I’m gonna give you when I see you again,” you tell him, flashing him a beam as you slow at a stop sign. You trap your smile between your teeth and flash him a glance that can only be described as whimsical — full of shy smiles and fluttering lashes and sparkling eyes. “‘Cause I’m gonna kiss you absolutely stupid, Eddie Munson.”

A rose-colored hue sprinkles along the apples of his cheeks. He never thought a threat could sound so appealing.

“Cool…” is the only thing he could think to mutter in the moment, too busy trying not to smile too wide. He turns his glowing cheeks towards his lap and purses his smile towards his fiddling fingers. “But, uh, I have Hellfire after school, so… Maybe tomorrow?”

You meet his disappointed glance with a shrug. “You could come over after if you want?”

He wants to. He always wants to.

“It’ll probably be late.”

“Then just stay over.”

Your offer comes effortlessly but strikes a deep feeling of complexity within him. Eddie doesn’t know why it makes him so suddenly nervous, only that it makes his palms sweat almost instantly.

The two of you haven’t crossed that threshold yet — of sharing a bed to sleep. He’d catch you dozing on occasion, slouched against his headboard with your head on his shoulder, and he’d wake you. Not because it made him uncomfortable, but because he didn’t want your neck to ache. 

You’d rouse with a groggy apology — “I should probably leave before Bowie starves to death and I drool all over your shoulder,” you’d tell him. 

And it’s not like Eddie wanted you to leave, but he was more than happy to sleep alone. What if he snores obnoxiously loud or he does something gross in his sleep? If you got instantly turned off by some sleeping habit he didn’t even know he had, he thinks it might destroy him.

Eddie can’t control the front he puts up around everyone when he’s sleeping. And for a boy who’s still trying to impress a pretty girl, that’s a very frightening thought.

“Uh, okay… Are you— Are you sure?” he stammers.

His apprehension confuses you. The offer hadn’t felt like that big of a deal to you. “I mean… yeah? We practically did it over the phone last week. It’ll be just like that — but, you know, in person.”

“Right… Okay.”

“I can make us dinner, and we can watch a movie or something,” you propose and grin at the daydream of it all. You wouldn’t have to miss Eddie if he was beside you all night. You wouldn’t have to drift off to thoughts of him either, because he’d be right there. “Bowie would be stoked if you stayed over. She’s practically obsessed with you.”

The thought makes Eddie smile to himself. His heart swells at the idea that other parts of your life have already started to accept him. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy in his leather jacket and ripped jeans and chunky metal rings.

“Her mom is too, right?” he asks you, mostly playful. He smirks all smug, but his cinnamon-tinted gaze gleams with sincerity.

“Oh, obviously,” you scoff without a second thought. “Have you seen her? She can’t get enough of you…” Your teasing lilt and soft smile fades as you squint at him. “Don’t tell her I told you that, though.”

Eddie pinches his thumb and forefinger together, zipping them across his lips, then rolling down the window to toss the imaginary lock out of it. 

Wind whips through the small car with vigor, making a wild halo of Eddie’s already less-than-tamed hair. The intrusion forces you to squint, even more so when you laugh. 

The sound of your giggling is like glitter or sunbeams. It’s as bright as yellow and soft like summer rain. It makes him smile, too, because that’s all he wanted to do in the first place — make you laugh. It’s all he ever wants to do.

Eddie cranks the lever to roll the window back up again as you tell him: “And, you know, if you stayed over, then I could give you that reward we were talking about.” 

You’ve successfully stooped to his level now: head stuck in the very depths of the gutter. Most of your thoughts are innocent, cooking for him and holding him while you slept. Others, not so much.

“And that would be…” he trails off with raised brows.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you squint at him as you turn the steering wheel to pull into the bustling parking lot of Hawkins High. 

The place is as wretched as it always was. It hasn’t changed a bit, just sort of deteriorated with time. The nameplate on top of the building has started to grey and the tiger mural painted on the bricks is fading, but it’s still the same. The familiarity of it all hits you with an ice-cold pang of nostalgia.

“I would,” Eddie nods a very vigorous nod, all innocent and wide-eyed, as you park on the far side of the lot. “I would very much like to know.”

You lean across the console to press a swift kiss to his cheek. “You’ll find out later,” you assure him, lingering just ahead of his face. Closer by an inch or two and the tips of your noses would nudge against one another.

“Have mercy…” Eddie murmurs to himself, eyes and limbs suddenly heavy under the weight of his desire for you. 

You made him promise he’d stay sober for the exam — no drinking the night before, no smoking while he got ready. Before now, he’d been perfectly clearheaded. Then you go and look at him with that look, and he’s instantly drunk on you.

He tries to close the distance between you but succeeds only in brushing your noses together before a loud honk blares from ahead of you. It sends the two of you jerking away from each other almost instantly, heads whipping toward the direction of the too loud beep. 

It comes from Steve Harrington’s maroon Beemer that he’d parked just ahead of your Volvo. Him and his friends file out one by one — Robin from the passenger, Dustin Henderson from the back, and then Steve from the driver’s side. 

The former two are beaming, far too happy for it to be so early. Steve looks more like a victim to the morning as he leans against his open car door. His smile looks like a wince and he props his wrist on the door, throwing his fingers up in the place of an actual wave. Dustin and Robin are far more enthusiastic with their gestures.

You and Eddie wave a tad bit awkwardly back at them.

“Look at him,” the boy says, trying and failing to hold back his laughter. “King Steve. Carpooling his kids like a real mom.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s a babysitter first and a human being second,” you joke, then more seriously tell him: “You don’t have to come over if you don’t want to, you know?”

“I know,” he nods. “But I want to.”

“Okay… I just— I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to, you know, force you or something—”

“It didn’t.”

“—I was just saying it could be nice, you know? But I feel like it sounded like I was being a little pushy.”

“You weren’t.”

“And I don’t want you to be, like, scared to say no to me or something, you know? It wouldn’t hurt my feelings or anything, okay? I promise,” you ramble, partly lying because you know it would hurt a little, but you’d never tell him that. “The ball is totally in your court, so… Whatever you want to do, it’s completely—”

Your nervous blathering is brought to an unexpected halt when Eddie brings his hands to your face. He cups your cheeks in his palms, brushing his thumbs along the apples of them. The sleeves of his leather jacket tickle your chin. He sprayed his wrist with cologne this morning, you can tell; the musky cedarwood and tobacco are more prominent now. 

The boy laughs softly when the suddenness of his action makes your eyes go wide, chuckling louder when he squeezes your cheeks and makes your lips pout softly.

“I wanna come over, okay?” Eddie assures through his laughter. “And you’re never annoying me when you ask. I promise. I’ll probably say yes to just about anything when it’s coming from you, sweetheart.”

“And you’re not just saying that?” you press, words slightly muffled with the way Eddie’s holding your face.

“I’m not just saying that,” he echoes more confidently. He shakes his head at you, then moves your jaw back and forth with his palms so he’s shaking yours too. You jerk away from him with a grin. 

“I’ll see you later?” he asks you while he collects his things from the floor, which is just the little tin box he carries everywhere. He swears it has everything he needs in it. You assume it’s just a dull pencil and a couple of baggies of weed he plans to sell between lunch shifts.

“Yeah,” you answer with a smile.

He clicks the handle to open the car door, then kicks it open the rest of the way. He rolls his head back and puckers his lips for a kiss. You happily oblige him, meeting him halfway but turning at the last second so his mouth meets your cheek.

“Kids are watching,” you joke at his surprise.

And even though he’d only pecked your jaw, it makes Robin and Steve roll their eyes. “Gag me with a spoon,” the girl gripes as she walks past the hood of your car.

Dustin follows behind her, too preoccupied to care. He’s got an anticipatory grin on his face that reveals the blue and green braces on his teeth. The composition notebook in his hands has the Hellfire logo drawn in red and yellow sharpie on the front of it.

You’ve never met the kid, but he’s exactly how you’d expected him to be.

You heard a lot about him — from Steve mostly, but from Eddie too. Robin has the occasional story about the boy from whenever he visits Family Video. They all call him little shit most of the time, shrimp on occasion, and Dusty Bun when he’s done something particularly sweet.

It’s all from a lighthearted place, though. You figure it must be because Steve Harrington is waking up at seven in the morning to take some fourteen-year-old to school. And Eddie’s even worse — the second Dustin calls asking for a ride, he’s hopping in his van without a second thought.

The boy barely lets Eddie get out of the car before he starts bombarding him with questions about the latest D&D campaign. He prattles on and on about it while they walk towards the school, pointing adamantly at the notebook in his hands. You imagine it’s full of conspiracies and potential ways to beat the Cult of Vecna. 

He’s so invested he doesn’t even care when Robin slips the cap from his hand and flips it backwards.

“Have the best day ever, kiddos!” you shout through your rolled-down car window.

You get a half-hearted wave from Dustin, but he doesn’t even glance at you when he does it. Eddie blows a dramatic kiss your way, but Robin rivals his sweetness with a middle finger and a rouge-tinted smile.

The bell chimes overhead, high-pitched and too familiar. The parking lot empties slowly, and the mindless muddled chatter fades too.

Steve saunters to your car after everyone else heads inside. He folds his arms along the passenger door as he leans down to look at you. 

His hair is un-styled, but in a cool sort of way that only he can pull off. Chestnut strands fall down over his forehead while others are pushed back from where he’s ran his fingers through them. His jaw is dusted with a fine layer of stubble that sprinkles a shadow of a mustache on his cupid’s bow.

You’re both wearing the elements of your uniforms.

He’s got on a pair of faded jeans and the mandatory collared shirt, even though he swears Keith only makes him abide by the dress code. You’re wearing the all black get-up required of all Enzo’s waitresses. The flowy blouse and a-line skirt are now wrinkled from the drive over. You’re only missing your floral apron and Steve his forest green vest.

“How long until your shift starts?” he asks you, voice deep and gruff with the morning.

Your eyes flit down to the flashing clock on your dashboard, then back up to him. “I don’t have to go in until eleven today, but I was gonna see if I could pick up an extra shift.”

He nods and juts out his lips as he turns to squint down the parking lot. He looks back at you with a more hopeful gaze. “Wanna go fuck around at Family Video instead?”

And, of course, by “fuck around,” he means popping popcorn and playing some terrible, terrible slasher film on the television behind the counter that has more boobs and blood than actual plot.

You’ll stop for junk food on the way like you always do and spend the bulk of the movie tossing gummy bears and M&Ms into Steve’s mouth. You’ll waste hours talking about nothing, but it’ll feel like only minutes have gone by when it’s time for your shift.

“Are you kidding?” you scoff like it’s not the best idea you’ve heard all morning. Or maybe second best because Eddie’s proposal of a reward is still swirling around in the confines of your mind. “Of course I do.”

 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

By sunset, Eddie Munson’s got a B-minus on his midterm, a crowd of kids singing his praises, and a date with the hottest woman on the planet. Life, as it turns out, was really starting to look up for the local freak.

“Best… campaign… ever!” Dustin shouts. He’s still so boyishly excited about the whole thing that he has to take in deep breaths before he says each word. 

The emphatic exclamation echoes through the dim, empty hallway of Hawkins High. The rest of the school had left some time ago; all that’s left now are the scraps — the basketball douchebags, the theater geeks, the D&D nerds.

The Hellfire Club gets the entire west wing to themselves, and the unusual vacancy allows them to saunter down the corridor’s length like they own the damn place. 

They don’t have to look over their shoulders for assholes that might trip them or stuff them into lockers. Still bubbling with the after-effects of such an utterly sadistic campaign, they feel like they’re on top of their own little world.

Eddie Munson hasn’t felt this good in a long, long time.

He spins on the heel of his worn-out sneaker and walks backwards ahead of his friends so he can examine each of their faces. He’d unleashed the whole Vecna lives twist that he’d been keeping in his metaphorical back pocket for some time now.

You were the one that gave him the idea, sprung it out of nowhere during a smoke session so many months ago. It feels like it’s been forever now. That was back when you were just his customer, and he was just your dealer — when all you needed was a little free weed, and Eddie just needed to pass a test.

You both somehow ended up with far more than either of you bargained for, but he’s not complaining. He hopes you aren’t either.

Dustin had sort of predicted Vecna’s resurgence. He’d scribbled it down in his journal with all the rest of his endless conspiracies. Well, actually, he suspected that Kas was still a villain and hadn’t slain Vecna like they thought — which wasn’t exactly right, but it was still pretty damn close. Eddie’s never met someone who cared so much about one of his campaigns.

So, needless to say, the curly-haired boy is beaming. His green-blue braces and pearly whites are on full display, partially from excitement but mostly because he was sort of right — in a vague, roundabout way.

Mike had been enthusiastic about it too, but that was before he had to suffer through his best friend’s endless boasts. His brown eyes roll damn near to the back of his skull as he huffs, angled jaw clenching from gritted teeth.

“Well, when you spend eight hours coming up with, like, a thousand different theories, one of them is gonna be right,” he’d finally groused. 

Dustin only smiled at the lankier boy, totally unfazed by his grumbling. “It’s not my fault you have exactly zero work ethic. You’re just mad you lost.”

“Yeah, because staying up all night writing in your diary makes you a real winner.”

“For the last time, Mike, it’s not a diary!”

Lucas was too far away to join in on the bickering. The boy had been distant for a while now, actually. Eddie joked that he must’ve been upset about missing basketball practice with Carver and the rest of his goons, but Lucas hadn’t laughed as loud as he’d hoped. He only chuckled under his breath, shook his head, and said it was just girl troubles.  

Gareth, meanwhile, is still grumbling about Vecna killing his ranger. Even though Dustin’s bard brought them all back with a resurrection spell in the end, he doesn’t like to lose. Eddie doesn’t blame him, but he’d be lying if he said the angry scrunch contorting his best friend’s features wasn’t hilarious.

Jeff had lost his druid too, but he was a much better sport about the whole thing. He usually is, especially compared to the rest of the club. He’s perhaps the only one who doesn’t treat every loss like the end of the world.

“Well, thank you, Ser Dustin,” Eddie responds in a fanciful sort of accent, bending at the waist in a gracious brow. “But I cannot take all the credit, I’m afraid.”

Dustin’s brows pinch together. “What do you mean?”

“He means that his girlfriend helped him put it together,” Jeff lisps.

“No way!” the boy gapes, totally dumbfounded. “The girl from this morning? In the car? She’s… She’s into Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Not really. No,” Eddie shrugs right before flashing a shit-eating grin. “But she is into me, so…”

The less-than-humble brag makes Gareth groan. His sandy curls fall back as he tilts his head toward the ceiling, ocean eyes rolling and then fluttering closed. “If I have to hear about your stupid girlfriend one more time…” he’d griped after the first few times Eddie managed to bring you up in every conversation — about a million of them ago now.

His annoyance doesn’t lessen Dustin’s confusion. “I don’t get it…”

“Gareth's just mad because he’s in love with Eddie’s girlfriend,” Jeff clarifies once more, feigning pity as he pats the boy on the shoulder.

“All I’m saying is, I would’ve tried a little harder to get her attention if I knew she was into freaks,” Gareth grieves, a little forlorn and distantly heartbroken, but shrugging it off like he isn’t all that affected by it.

You were a bit like Steve The Hair Harrington in that way. A little like Vicki Carmichael or, god forbid, Billy Hargrove. You’ve garnered a sort of popularity that’s made you into a sideshow attraction that everyone wants to ride — literally.

You’re popular in a much, much different way than Steve or Vicki or Billy. It’s left you acutely fetishized in an extreme sort of fashion, an object of desire for many in disgusting, lurid ways.

It seems Gareth didn’t go unscathed with his lust for you either.

Well, too little too fucking late if Eddie had anything to say about it. But he would never, because that’s his best friend, so he decides to scoff and tell him: “Like she’d be into you anyway.”

“Oh, please. I’m a total catch.”

“Is there anyone she isn’t into?” Jeff chuckles, too kind of heart to realize the mercilessness in his words. “Isn’t that, like, her whole thing.”

A sharp pang of anger strikes like lightning in Eddie’s chest. It’s ice-cold and red hot, a burst of adrenaline that feels like fight or flight. His hands curl into fists before he even realizes it. If it had been anyone else and not one of his best friends, he imagines he might’ve swung before he even thought about what he was doing. 

Before the words to defend you spill like venom from his mouth, another beats him to the punch.

“Hey,” Lucas scolds from a little ways behind the group, making them all turn to look at him. His brows are furrowed slightly, but the rest of his face is contorted in an unreadable way. His hands are tucked deep into the pockets of the puke-green letterman he wears over his Hellfire tee. “Leave her alone.”

“How do you…” Eddie starts, then squints past the group, gaze zeroing in on the boy. “Since when do you know my girlfriend, Sinclair?”

“She’s friends with Max. And she’s, like, really nice. So maybe we shouldn’t talk about her like that.”

The boy with the wild hair grins something wilder. His gaze is stern but no less playful when he turns back to Jeff. “You heard the kid. Leave my girlfriend alone, Jeffy.”

When the phrase leaves his mouth, for perhaps the billionth time that day, he realizes how often he must say it. My girlfriend, he says. My girlfriend, my girlfriend — because he can’t get enough of how it sounds.

With a grin on his face and his dream girl on his mind, Eddie spins on his heel again to swing open the double doors of the high school’s exit. The chill smacks him in the face almost immediately.

It’s the strange knick of time in early spring where the days are warm, but the nights are so, so cold. This one isn’t any different. A bitter breeze pounds at his chest, ruffles through his curls, and pierces the fabric of his jacket. Eddie’s body mourns the sudden loss of warmth almost immediately.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dustin continues to whinge, even though the rest of them have more than moved on. “Does— Does everyone know her but me? Mike, do you know who she is?”

The boy perks up at the mention of his name. He tends to get a little reserved unless he’s bickering or talking bout his girlfriend. The kid’s a complete and utter wreck when he’s been away from her for too long. Eddie used to make fun of him for it. Not so much anymore.

Mike runs a hand through his lengthy raven hair, then scratches at the back of his neck. His eyes squint and his nose scrunches. “Uh… not really? I mean, I think she knows El because she knows Hopper, but… I don’t know… No?”

Dustin’s face falls flat at his answer. Or lack thereof.

“Wow. Very enlightening, Mike, as always. Thank you,” he deadpans, then turns back to Eddie. His features go from deadpanned to hopeful: eyes wide, brows raised, lips quirked. “So when are we gonna get to meet her? Do you think she’d do a campaign with us? Holy shit— she could be the fairy! You know, of the Firethorns! I mean, you did just say the campaign was feeling a little empty—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Take it down a few notches, alright, Dusty Bun?” Eddie chuckles as he slumps a heavy arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“Don’t call me that. We talked about this; that name is reserved for Suzie and Suzie only—”

“Didn’t you guys break up?” Mike wonders with a sort of blandness to his tone that only he could pull off.

“Shut up, Mike,” Dustin bites in response.

It was still a bit of a sore subject for the boy who’d just lost the so-called love of his life.

Suzie was a girl he met at summer camp about a year ago. Things were going pretty well until they weren’t. Something about her family being uber-religious and not approving of Dustin’s more agonistic disposition.

She broke up with him over Cerebro and hasn’t been on the channel since. It was cold. Ice cold.

Dustin still hikes up to Weathertop every now and then with nothing but a packed lunch and the hope that she’ll answer. She hasn’t yet.

And Eddie can make a mockery of just about anything — it’s practically a superpower at this point — but he knows when to leave well enough alone. Even the most innocent question can send the boy into a spiral of despair. Even now, he gets so suddenly weighed down by the burden of his sadness; lips turning downward and the insides of his brows curling slightly.

Eddie smiles a sad sort of smile down at the boy, but he’s too busy moping to see it. He pulls him closer with one leather-clad arm and uses the other to pat the boy on the chest. Their feet stumble less than gracefully over one another. 

“Yeah, you’re never gonna meet her…” Eddie says in a mournful sigh.

Dustin blinks up at him, confused and even more hurt than before. “What? Why not?”

“Because she’d obviously like you more than me,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. “And I can’t have anyone taking my girl, Henderson.”

That confuses him even more. He was more prepared for one of Eddie’s stupid quips than something short of a compliment. It takes him by surprise at first, leaves him gaping for a moment, before rolling his eyes. “Shut up…”

“I’m serious!” Eddie chuckles, all loud and boisterous. The sound echoes through the vacant lot, made somehow emptier by the cold.

He stops walking suddenly and makes Dustin stop walking too. He takes the boy a tad bit roughly by the shoulders and looks down at him like it’s the first time he’s seeing him. 

“I mean, look at you! What’s not to like, huh? You got their hair, the smarts, the personality—”

“And Eddie’s only got one of those things, so you definitely win,” Gareth quips from a few feet behind them.

“Exactly! Suzie was an idiot to let you go, Henderson.”

Dustin winces when Eddie jabs him in the chest. His saddened gaze flits to the pavement for a moment, then back up again. His eyes are brighter now, but still a bit melancholy — sort of like the streetlamp that flickers across the way. A light that’s going out but grasping for reasons to stay burning.

“You think so?”

“I know so, Dusty Bun,” Eddie grins — smiling wider when the kid’s beam falls flat again. He wraps his arm around Dustin’s punier frame. It’s supposed to be a hug, but it looks more like a headlock. “Never change, Dustin Henderson. Never change…”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Eddie hasn’t been to a sleepover since he was ten.

Fifth grade. Franklin Kowalski’s place in the suburbs. Trampoline in the front yard, pool in the back, and an assortment of soft drinks in a fridge in the garage. Maybe he remembers it so vividly because it's perhaps one of the more traumatizing experiences a prepubescent boy growing out a buzzcut could go through.

He knew he didn’t belong there — not in the good part of town with a bunch of boys in brand-new tennis shoes. Eddie Munson was trailer park trash, through and through. He wasn’t used to new clothes or two-story houses or underground pools. But he didn’t care where he came from. And neither did Franklin. Not at first, anyway.

The other kids were nice enough to him. They offered him their swim goggles when Eddie didn’t have his own and made sure he wasn’t left out of any of their conversations. It was all in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way, though. Their kindness was manufactured, a mask for pre-teen boy cruelty. 

See, they only gave him their goggles so they could laugh when they got tangled in his curls. They only included him in conversation so he could be the punch line to each of their jokes. 

All of it went over Eddie’s head. He was too innocent to realize he wasn’t being treated nicely, he was being taunted. He laughed along with each of their inside jokes because he wanted so desperately to be included, having no idea it was himself he was laughing at.

It took him until two o’clock the next morning to understand. He woke up all alone in the living room and found that everyone else had migrated upstairs without him. They were still awake, still laughing — and Eddie was forgotten in the dark.

He nearly cried when he called Wayne. He wasn’t sure if his tears were from anger or from sadness, but they stung all the same. 

He punched the numbers on the keypad with a clenched jaw to keep from sobbing out loud. His gaze was still blurry with unshed tears. It made it dreadfully hard to see, and what little light spilled from the television — which had turned to static after midnight — didn’t help either.

“It’s three A.M., Eds. You sick?” his uncle gruffed into the landline.

“A little,” Eddie half-lied. He twirled the curly wire around his fingertip until it turned purple. He prayed he didn’t sound as sad as he felt. “Everyone else is asleep… ‘M scared I’m gonna puke everywhere.”

Wayne was there barely fifteen minutes later. He drove his rusted pick-up to the suburbs, found his nephew waiting on the curb, and didn’t ask questions on the drive back to Forest Hills. 

Eddie hasn’t been to a sleepover since.

He’s got a feeling this one will be different, though. Because pre-teen boys are a hell of a different kind and you’re… you. 

He’s pretty sure you couldn’t be mean to him even if you wanted to be. You’re nice, far nicer than he deserves. You’re lovely and sweet and decent — every synonym of the damn word in a thousand different languages. It still floors him that it would ever occur to you to be kind to him. 

Eddie doesn’t feel all that worthy of your sunshine. He happily basks in your golden rays anyway. Maybe it’s because he’s selfish. Or maybe it’s because he’s so damn pale — in both the literal and figurative sense.

Eddie packs his overnight bag without a hint of methodology.

He isn’t totally sure of what to bring as he rifles through his disorganized drawers, so he ends up packing bits of everything. 

He does the sniff test for each of his crumpled-up t-shirts. The one’s that smell the freshest get stuffed to the bottom of his bag. He can’t be sure of how many he’s shoved down there now — three or four, maybe five. It makes it harder for his pants to fit, two of the pajama variety and two of denim. 

He grabs multiples of everything, just to be on the safe side. It takes only minutes for his backpack to fill up. He nearly breaks the zipper trying to fasten it, and still, he worries he hasn’t brought enough.

The bag sits upright on his mattress as Eddie bends down to grab the box of condoms that’s been idling under his bed for a year. The cardboard is coated with a fine layer of dust and time. He holds it between his ringed fingers, debating whether or not to finally break the seal and bring a few — just to be on the safe side. That’s when Wayne walks in.

The man isn’t looking at him. He’s too busy wiping his oil-stained palms on an already-stained rag, but his presence is sudden enough to freak Eddie out. The boy jumps like he’s been caught red-handed, scrabbles for a hiding place almost immediately, making the box sputter out of his grip. The thing falls to the ground with a dramatic thud.

He kicks it back under his bed again.

Wayne’s eyes finally flit up to his nephew’s at all the commotion. His bushy grey brows furrow when he finds him standing upright, hands behind his back, totally not suspicious at all. Raising a teenage boy has taught the man not to comment on what doesn’t concern him, so he keeps on swiping his fingers between the fabric of the grimy rag. 

“I finished looking at your van,” he says, accent deep and husky and not of Indiana origin. “Turns out that noise you were hearin’ was a damn rock in the break line.”

Eddie scoffs, then eyes a stick of deodorant sitting on his dresser. “Wow,” he marvels as he swipes the thing from its place. He stuffs it into the side pocket of his bag. “A measly pebble coulda killed me, huh?”

“Should be good to go now, though.”

“Sweet,” the boy nods.

Eddie squints as his eyes flit around his room, head darting in either direction to make sure he’s got everything. Wayne watches him with an identical squint. “Where you runnin’ off to now? You just got home, what, fifteen minutes ago?”

“Uh… I’m gonna go see a friend,” Eddie answers, voice trembling and slightly far away. He unzips his bag again to make sure it’s sufficiently filled. He does a little mental checklist: shirts, pants, PJs, shoes— how the hell is he supposed to fit shoes in here?

You’ve only got one pair of shoes, Munson, he reminds himself. Where the hell do you think you’re going, anyway? A nature walk?

“Oh, right,” his uncle nods. A smile plays on the edges of his lips, but it weirdly still looks like he’s frowning. “The friend.”

“Yeah— Well, she’s my… She’s my girlfriend, so…”

The admission makes Eddie blush in a way he isn’t typically used to. He can’t count the number of times he must say it in a day, but something about saying it in front of Wayne feels different — real.

He turns his glowing cheeks down to his bag and makes difficult work of zipping it back up again.

Wayne doesn’t bother to hide his excitement. The bright emotion is almost unfamiliar. “Well, shit,” the man’s chuckle sounds from the depths of his chest. “Look at you, Eds. My nephew’s finally got his first girlfriend.”

The boy rolls his chocolate eyes. He jerks under the pressure of the shoulder clap Wayne gives him. It’s equal parts annoying and embarrassing — to be talked to like a child in this way. Maybe because most children have long had their first girlfriends by now, and it took Eddie all of twenty agonizing years.

“We were gonna hang out at her place since I passed my English test and everything...”

The excitement washes from Wayne’s tired eyes. They widen, as though in shock, and reveal more of the glassy whites of them. He just blinks at him for a moment, like his words are still processing. “You… You passed?”

“Yep. Got a B,” Eddie nods, a tad bit sheepishly. He finds it hard to meet his uncle’s mystified gaze. “Well, a B-minus, but… Turns out, I might actually graduate this year.”

Wayne seems to experience every emotion at once. He’s surprised, of course — it makes sense. Eddie spent two years failing the damn thing, after all. Then he’s proud, overjoyed that there’s a chance his nephew might finally grow up. He’s distantly saddened by the exact same thought.

The man swallows thickly, as though to down each emotion. He nods and tries his best to smile. “Damn. Good job, kid. I’m… I’m prouda you.”

Eddie isn’t sure whether to take the praise or cower from it. At a loss, he opts to deflect entirely.

“Yeah, well, she— the friend helped me study and everything, so… I feel like we should probably be thanking her, you know?” he half-jokes as he swings the pack over his shoulder. His winces under the weight of it. “I probably wouldn’t have passed if she didn’t force me to read that stupid book. I mean, it’s 1986; who cares about the roaring twenties and blinking green lights—”

“Hm…” his uncle grunts. It isn’t an acknowledging grunt, though. It’s more of a bemused sort of grunt. And he’s got this quizzical twist to his features that makes Eddie confused too.

“…What is it?”

Wayne only shrugs, trying to act like it was nothing, but can’t help but to ask: “You’re real serious about this girl, aren’t ya?”

Eddie, feeling a bit weighed down by such a heavy question, shifts on his feet.

“Uh… A little bit, I guess. Yeah,” he stammers in the place of an honest answer. If he were being totally truthful, he would’ve said something like, “As serious as a goddamn heart attack.” But that might’ve actually given Uncle Wayne one, so he doesn’t answer with all that.

The man seems to hear all the words Eddie doesn’t say, though. He always does. Eddie figures that’s what happens when you raise a kid for fifteen years — you get attuned to their every thought like a superpower or something. 

It doesn’t make it any less annoying, though. Eddie’s never been able to keep a single damn secret from Wayne because he’s a total mind reader. It’s entirely possible Wayne knew Eddie was in love before he did.

“Just be careful, alright?” the man advises. He looks genuinely concerned, eyes glinting and brows pinched, like you’re a treacherous road or poison ivy.

The misplaced cautiousness makes Eddie breathe out a soft laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, Eds. Don’t play dumb,” Wayne tells him with a gruff chuckle — not totally unkind, just a Munson sort of curt. “You know what I’m talkin’ about. I didn’t even know her real name until you started bringing her around, 'cause all the kids at the shop call her the—”

“Don’t,” Eddie interjects sharply.

The bitterness in his tone is foreign. It contains the sort of venom he’s more like to spit at Jason Carver or Mike Wheeler if he’s being particularly dickish. Never at Wayne.

But that dormant urge to defend you rises like a sleeping dragon that just got poked in the belly. The words rise like bile in his throat and spew out before he can think to stop them.

Uncle Wayne is a weathered man. He’s seen a lot of the world, too much of it, but nothing’s ever quite taken him aback like this. He’s never seen his nephew’s chocolate button eyes hardened into something so cold.

Eddie gets all hyperaware of the heart on his sleeve and starts to crack under the pressure of it. He deflates, stern features crumbling into something softer.

“It’s different, okay?” he assures with his chin brought down to his chest — brows raised and wide eyes twinkling. It’s the same thing you’d said to Hopper not too long ago. Eddie hopes you met the words as wholeheartedly as he does now.

“And even if I explained all the reasons why it’s different, you still wouldn’t get it.”

His melodramatic tone makes Wayne scoff. “What? ‘Cause you don’t think I’ve ever been a kid in love before?”

“No,” Eddie shrugs playfully. “‘Cause you’re old.”

The foreign tension ebbs all at once with a pair of laughs. One is gruff, a couple of sharp exhales more than anything else. The other is a lighter, far more boyish giggle.

“I’m just trying to look out for you, alright?” Wayne tells him once the laughter fades.

“Yeah, I know. You always do,” Eddie lilts with a disposition that might make it seem like he’s displeased by his uncle’s constant pestering. In reality, he knows it’s saved him from a world of shit.

Like that time he wanted to get tacos from a new food truck that gave the whole town food poisoning. Or when he’d wanted to ask Tina Burton, the most popular girl in school, on a date his sophomore year. 

It was Wayne that saved him the embarrassment from either. It’s like he can smell bullshit or something.

“But this is, like, the first good thing that’s happened to me since Ride the Lightning came out… So, I’d kinda like to enjoy this whole thing while it lasts,” Eddie winces like it’s a joke, but he means it more than anything.

Wayne nods understandingly. “Will do, kid. But first girlfriends are always hard, okay? Remember that. Try not to let it hurt you too much, Eds.”

His uncle claps him once, then twice, on his shoulder before swiping away the grime he’d accidentally spotted there. Eddie lets him, too far away to shrug him off. He doesn’t even move when Wayne walks out of his room.

He knows his uncle means well, but something about his cynical words makes his chest burn. It’s like he’s betting on his relationship with you not working out or something. 

And Eddie knows he isn’t wrong. First girlfriends are hard. He’s heard enough shit from his friends to know that. Hell, Mike and Dustin have spent all year complaining about how complicated relationships are. 

But it’s different. 

Because they’re just a couple of kids and their girlfriends aren’t you.

Whatever form you come in, lover or executioner, Eddie’s more than ready to receive you.

 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

You’ve never cooked for anyone other than yourself. And maybe Bowie.

That’s not to say you were a stranger to dining in company. Binging on takeout with Robin and Steve was routine. You’re pretty sure Benny at the diner has made more dinners for the three of you than you’ve ever made for yourselves — combined. 

But it was different, to make something for someone with your own hands. It took a relative amount of care, an acute sort of attentiveness that only felt deserved for someone really special. 

And Eddie was really special and then some.

There isn’t a word that encapsulates all the special he is. It makes you feel a bit guilty sometimes. You wish you were smarter so you could think of a big enough word to describe how much he means to you. But since you aren’t, you stick to making him homemade spaghetti and hope you can pour enough love into it that he feels all of yours.

Eddie arrives at your apartment before you’re ready for him.

You’d wanted to do more with your appearance by the time he came around — with your hair and your makeup and your clothes. Not because you ever had to, but because you thought Eddie deserved a girl who took extra care of herself in that way.

You got a shower in before you started cooking, but that was it. Your hair is unstyled and air-drying; your face bare and glistening in all its naked glory.

Clad in nothing but a hilariously oversized t-shirt and a pair of fluffy socks, you look more ready for bed than date night.

The knock at your door sends you into a momentary whirlwind. You scramble like someone’s seconds away from catching you naked — like there are four different fires in every direction and you don’t know which one to put out first. The panic is elaborate and fleeting, a bucket of ice-cold water on bare skin.

You figure that’s another part of caring about someone. You make them spaghetti because you love them and get nervous when things aren’t perfect. Love is all things stressful and homemade.

Eddie knocks on your door with several rhythmic raps. They’re evenly timed and spaced out. You recognize the bass line to ‘Crazy Train’ almost immediately. Da-da… Da-da, da-da, da-da. He must’ve been listening to it on the way over.

“Uh, come in!” you waver after an awkward beat. You’re yelling a little because you’re still standing at the stove, stirring the pot of noodles.

The door clicks once when it opens, then again when it shuts. The wall that separates the kitchen conceals your view of him, but you can hear Eddie’s shuffling in the living room from where you are because he’s never done anything quietly in his life.

Eddie toes off his sneakers before he heads into your apartment. You never asked him to do it, so it always confused you as to why. He’d told you, when you asked, that he knows he’s not the cleanest and that he cares too much about your space to make a mess of it. 

He tells you he can’t take care of you in the way he would like — that if he had it his way, you’d never have to work at Enzo’s again; that he wishes he was rich enough so you never had to wait on snobby stay-at-home moms or misogynistic businessmen. But since he isn’t a rockstar yet and The Hideout pays their busboy’s fuck all, Eddie figures the least he can do is not leave shoe prints on your carpet.

It’s boyish and strangely profound and so, so sweet.

He drops his backpack and leaves his sneakers by the doormat like he always does. They fit neatly between the wall and the roughly textured rectangle that reads ‘glad you’re here’ on the front of it. One is upright, the other falls to its side.

Bowie blinks at him from where she idles on her perch, green eyes wide and pupils set in narrow slits. “Hey, pretty girl,” Eddie greets in a quiet coo, scooping her up in his arms. Despite her round belly, the calico weighs no more than a feather. 

She meows once after being so suddenly plucked from her flower petal spot but settles into him instantly. He scratches at her chin to make her purr and revels in the soft buzzing sound she makes. Eddie waltzes into the kitchen with her, cradling her against his chest like a newborn baby.

You look over your shoulder and smile at the sight of them — at your two favorite beings on the planet, so obviously taken with one another. Bowie lolls in Eddie’s arm like he’s made of clouds and cotton candy. Her blinks are slow and lazy, her purrs audible to even you. She’s only this affectionate for him. You can’t even blame her. 

“Smells good in here,” the boy compliments trying his best not to blush at the wide smile you give him. He’s still not used to being looked at so tenderly. 

Failing to feel deserving of it all, he averts his chocolate gaze and flushed cheeks to the counter, where he plops Bowie down beside her half-empty food bowl.

You could only get her to eat so much of it before she got annoyed with you. Now she laps happily at the chunk of cat food like it’s the first time she’s ever tasted its goodness.

“Thanks,” you respond with a slight tremble to the edge of your voice. You turn back to the pot of spaghetti you’ve been stirring for close to ten minutes, eyeing the mixture of noodles and sauce and beef with intent because you need it all to be perfect. “I probably should’ve asked what you liked before you left this morning, but I only know how to make spaghetti, so… I made spaghetti.”

You look back at him, flashing the boy a nervous tight-lipped smile. It makes him grin, too, as he makes the terribly short trek over to you.

“Well, I actually love spaghetti,” he confesses, and it isn’t totally a lie. He just stopped caring for it around the millionth time Wayne made it because it’s one of the only things he knows how to cook too. 

Eddie lingers at your side, hip pressing into the counter, radiating warmth like a sun stuck in human form. You can’t tell if he’s toasty in his leather jacket or if you’re just cozy in the honey-coated tenderness you have for him. You don’t even realize you’re smiling at him when he scrunches his nose at you. 

“You should be careful, sweetheart. I’m kinda starting to think we’re soulmates.”

“That’s crazy,” you marvel, wide-eyed. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Wow… We really were made for each other, huh?” he huffs with a similar sarcasm.

You try to keep the joke going, but it’s hard not to smile when you feel his hands creep around your sides. His fingers are soft on your waist, featherlight and a little unsure as he slithers along your back. The affection feels foreign on your skin. You bite back a shiver.

“Looks like way,” you affirm with a nod, tilting your head back so you can meet him halfway when he leans down to peck you.

It’s a soft and swift little thing, a brief brush of the lips that doesn’t mean anything but also the entire world. He kisses you just to kiss you — because he likes the feel of you or because it’s the sort of thing he can do now as your boyfriend. Either way, you revel in the unfamiliarity.

“Did the, uh… Did the test go okay?” you ask once he parts from you. You try not to sound like you’ve been agonizing over it all day and more like the thought had only just crossed your mind.

Eddie bites back a smile as he turns to walk to the opposite side of the counter. He makes sure any traces of the smirk have washed away when he hops onto the edge of it.  The forlorn look he gives you is manufactured, all pinched browed and gloomy eyed. 

“Um, no…” he fibs. “I, uh— I failed it again.”

You eye him from over your shoulder and notice how he shifts on his weight, looking down at the tile rather than up at you. It doesn’t cross your mind once that he might be joking. You just hope the flash of disappointment on your features was too quick for him to catch.

“That’s okay,” you assure and cover your chagrin with a smile. You shake your head and shrug. “We just try again, right? Not the end of the world.”

A grin tugs slow at Eddie’s lips. It’s bemused slightly and still sort of sad. He can’t believe how supportive you are of him even after he’s just told you outright that he’s failed — still loving even when he’s not good enough.

He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a packet of stapled-together papers. It’s perhaps the first piece of schoolwork given to him that wasn’t immediately thrown away. He’d folded it twice in half, then tucked it safely away with the intent to show you later. He unfolds it again to marvel at it once more.

The letter grade is written in red and circled twice. Ms. O’Donnell’s fancy cursive is scribbled just beside it — “Finally! Good job, Eddie! I’m very proud of you!” Even though the boy has never been particularly fond of the woman, her compliment makes his chest swell.

“Oh, shit…” he murmurs under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear.

“Hm?” you hum back in response. You don’t look at him, though, more focused on not burning yourself as you pull a tray of golden brown garlic bread out of the oven.

“I read it wrong…” he answers, feigning surprise. “This isn’t an F. It’s a B.”

The pan clatters to the stove when you spin around the face him. Your eyes are wide and your brows are raised, each of your features agape with shock. You’re not entirely sure how he could’ve misread it, but you’re prepared to celebrate with him anyway. 

Eddie flashes you a pink, lopsided smile as he flips the creased paper around. He puts the grade on display for you with a knowing, mischievous glint in his cinnamon eyes. He’s too pretty and you’re too proud of him — you can’t even care that he was tricking you.

“Oh, my god, Eddie!” you shout with a bubbly laugh, all but launching yourself at him. You have to stand on the tips of your toes to reach where he sits on the counter. The bottom of your stomach digs into the granite as your arms wrap around his neck. 

You don’t realize until you’ve locked him in this embrace that you’ve still got your oven mitt on.

Eddie bends awkwardly to reciprocate the hug, meeting you halfway so you’re not doing all the work.

One hand keeps hold of his midterm, but the palm of his free one spreads wide and warm along your back. The tops of your chests collide, soft and snug. They press together in such a way that it confuses him how he could’ve gone so long without feeling you like this — even in the most innocent way.

His chin settles along your clothed collarbone. With his nose digging into the cotton of your t-shirt, he inhales to find your warm floral scent. Eddies sighs and relaxes against you without thinking. He doesn’t know if anyone’s ever hugged him like this before.

“I’m so proud of you!” you praise, chin bopping on his shoulder. “I knew you could do it.”

Eddie chuckles softly at the severity of your hug, so full of intent — louder when you peck him on his cheek and then the rest of his face when you realize you can’t just kiss him once. His stubble is rough against the plush of your lips as you press them to his jaw and chin and nose and mouth.

He tries to kiss you back, but he’s smiling too wide.

He’s almost certain no one’s ever gotten this much loving over a B-minus.

“It’s ‘cause of you,” Eddie insists.

“No, it’s because you’re smart.”

“Mm, I don’t think that’s it,” he retorts with the shake of his head, too damn stubborn to take a compliment.

His chin pulls closer to his neck when he parts from you. Your noses are barely inches apart, lips so close he can taste them. He could kiss you if he wanted, but he doesn’t want to stop looking at you.

“I’m pretty sure I only passed because I was thinking about you the whole time...” 

His words trail off. He’s got a crooked smirk on his lips like he’s only teasing, but brings his ear to his shoulder and gazes at you that way — so full of love and mischief. You think he might actually be sincere.

“Eddie Munson…” you scold at his suggestive tone. 

A smile dances on the corners of your lips as you pull back from him completely. You finally slip the mitten off your hand as you return to the stove, clicking the knob on the back panel until it turns off again.

“I just hope you’ve been thinking about that reward,” the boy lilts as he slips off the counter. He grins and walks until he’s leaning on the refrigerator beside you. He’s no more than a couple of feet away, but he somehow feels much closer than that. “If I’m not mistaken, I believe we agreed that I’d get something if I passed…”

Eddie’s only teasing. He doesn’t actually want anything. Spending time with you now is enough. Making you blush was just a bonus. 

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t cross his mind, though, far more times than he’d like to admit. 

And truth be told, you had thought about it, too. But that makes it sound too simple. It plagued you, really. First, it was the “oh god, what if he doesn’t pass,” and then the “what the hell am I supposed to do when he does?”

A passing grade isn’t usually that big of a deal. You’ve certainly never received anything from one. But passing a test after failing it the first two times and having to suffer two more agonizing years of school because of it certainly deserved to be celebrated.

Eddie was strange, though. He wasn’t materialistic or overtly enthusiastic about anything other than music and D&D. Maybe if you had more money, you could’ve gotten him a cassette or a new Dungeon Master’s manual. But thanks to Enzo’s salary, you’re lucky if you’re able to pay bills on time. And it sucks because Eddie deserves nice things, and not just for passing some stupid test. 

You hate that you don’t have anything other than spaghetti and adoration to give him.

It’s not fair to either of you.

You’d lamented to Steve about all this over gummy bears and buttered popcorn as Slumber Party Massacre played on the tiny television above the counter. The film was ripe with blood and random nudity, but you hadn’t fully paid attention to a single scene. You don’t think Steve had either because he was too busy trying to fuse two different halves of gummy bears together.

“Okay, you just passed a test you failed two times in a row,” you tell the boy, painting him a picture of your dilemma. “Your girlfriend wants to do something nice for you, but she’s boring and poor. What would you want?” 

“A blowjob,” Steve answers without missing a beat. His brows scrunch together like the answer was far easier than you made it out to be. He shrugs and squishes the strawberry head of one gummy bear onto the blue raspberry bottom of another. “Obviously.”

You didn’t think the answer was so obvious. Especially not when you’re trying to take things slow. It wasn’t an easy feat either — not with Eddie at your place, looking at you with that look. His features drip with honey as rose petal spill from his mouth. It’s like he’s trying to tease you. 

He’s got no idea he’s quite literally dealing with the master of teasing.

“We’ll see how tonight goes,” you tell him, flashing him an arched brow and a knowing smirk as you drag two of your fancy, ten-dollar porcelain plates from the cabinet. “Only if you’re good for me, yeah?”

Eddie quite literally forgets how to speak.

Like, if you’d asked him a question, the only thing that would spill out would be unintelligible murmurs of made-up words. 

His brain turns to mush with the look you give him — a two can play at this game kind of smirk that makes his mind melt. And your words are so effortless, so smooth, like you know just what to say and exactly how to say it to work him like a wind-up toy.

He’s in way over his head. The realization makes his breath hitch.

All he can do is nod like an idiot and let you fix him a plate of your “finest batch of spaghetti.” That’s what you call it, and he figures you must be right because you lay an entire three-course meal out in front of him. Well, it isn’t quite that extensive, but it feels that way.

Plates of pasta, a bowl of salad, and stacks of garlic bread decorate your small square dining table. Eddie almost feels like he’s at Enzo’s, even though there’s never been a world where he’s been able to afford Enzo’s.

You wine and dine him like the finest of them. Even though it’s nothing more than homemade spaghetti and apple juice in wine glasses, it makes him feel special — the kind of special people spend hundreds of dollars to feel. But he gets you for free and fuck, he doesn’t deserve any of it.

He got so damn lucky with you. 

He’s done trying to figure out why. He just wants to be more grateful for it.

Once he’s pleasantly full on a home-cooked meal, you usher him to the bathroom. There’s a bag full of stuff waiting there for him — toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash — all the essential shit that he’d forgotten all about. It makes his chest ache.

It’s less so that you knew he’d forget and more so that you thought about him at all.

Eddie imagines you getting off work, still in your Enzo’s-appropriate skirt and blouse uniform, scanning the aisles of Bradley’s Big Buy for things you think Eddie might need.

It’s mundane, but so beautiful still — to be remembered in the most minuscule of ways.

“—I didn’t know what to get you, and I couldn’t afford a lot, so I just got you that 3-in-1 stuff,” you ramble as you pull the dark green bottle out of the brown paper bag on the counter. You wave it mindlessly in your hand. “I don’t know, it was affordable, and you seem like the kind of guy who might use this sort of stuff, so—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie chuckles, trying to act like he doesn’t have an off-brand bottle of the stuff sitting in his shower back at the trailer.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a giggle of your own. You shrug and sit the thing back down. “You don’t have to use it if you don’t want.  I just wanted you to have some stuff here so it could, you know, feel more like home…”

Your words strike something profound in Eddie’s chest, a lightning strike or a punch to the stomach. In that moment, he comes to the realization that home isn’t a place. It’s not four walls or the little trinkets that fill it. The people that make you feel all warm and cozy inside, the people that make you feel like you have a place in the world — that’s home.

It’s Wayne and it’s Hellfire and it’s you.

So it’s easy for Eddie to feel at home in your little apartment, and not just because you bought a bunch of stuff to make it that way. 

He’s warmed by the hot shower and the thought that you’re waiting for him in your bedroom down the hall. The idea that he gets this night and so many others you with makes him feel all giddy — like he’s ten years old again and no sleepover has ever traumatized him.

Eddie uses everything you bought, still a little dizzied that it’s for him, but opts to use your vanilla body wash. It’s sweet smelling, with hints of deep musk and high lavender.

The scent of it on his own skin makes him feel like you’re on him and all over him. He has to flip the hot water to freezing before he steps out of the shower. Because, sure, he’s been less than shy about how much he likes you, but walking into your room with a hard-on is a bit more forward than he’s used to.

Eddie finds you waiting for him in your bed. You’re idling at the very center of it, knees up to your chest and back against the headboard, like you’ve been waiting for his return to get truly comfortable there.

You smile when you see him again. It’s that same grin you always look at him with, as though every time you see him is the first time.

He brings an air of cleanliness in with him. He's dressed in fresh pajamas, curls damp and still drying. Steam radiates off his skin along with the scent of freshly baked cookies and flower petals. It’s familiar to you because it’s yours, but it’s different on Eddie in a way you can’t describe.

“You smell good,” you compliment as he maneuvers through the velvet darkness of your bedroom. The black night is evaded only by your dim yellow lamp and the streams of orange that filter through your curtains from the streetlamps outside.

Eddie scoffs as he climbs onto your queen-sized bed. “Did I smell bad before?”

“No. You just smell sweet now. Like a milkshake.”

You shift to make room for him, pulling back your green gingham comforter so he can slip in beside you. Even though you’ve given him ample room to sit down, there isn’t any hint of distance between you. You keep yourself intently pressed to his side despite the several inches of space next to you.

Eddie hopes you never realize there’s a whole world of other places you could be than right next to him. He doesn’t ever want to see a day where you’re separated by more than an inch or two. 

“A milkshake, huh?” he echos as he leans back against the slatted headboard and all your pillows. You twist until you’re practically on your side — hip digging into the mattress, shoulder propped along the cushions, chest pressed against his arm.

“Yeah. Like whipped cream or… vanilla cake…” you trail off, quickly losing interest in describing the scent of him when you’re staring the pretty boy in the face.

One half of him is bathed in shades of golden orange, the other half coated in a deep, deep navy. Eddie’s eyes are somehow darker than any night sky. They swim with their own galaxies and stars that twinkle back at you.

He looks at you and all words lose meaning.

“Yeah, I’m totally stealing your soap before I leave,” he jokes.

You shake your head at him, but smile anyway. “Thanks for letting me know, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Just like all the times before, neither of you realize you’re kissing until you already are. The gravitational pull that brings the two of you together is effortless and natural. You’re like the moon and Eddie’s like the tide — you drag him to you without trying and he bends to your every whim.

Kissing him is easy. It’s like breathing. You don’t ever have to think about it, you just do it. 

You press your lips against the rosy plush of his, and it’s like taking a deep breath of fresh air. It’s an atmosphere kissed by the sun and the trees and the morning dew. It fills your lungs with a new life, makes it impossible to quit kissing him.

But when his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, when his mouth pries yours open to slip the pink muscle inside — that feels like getting the breath knocked out of you. The rough pattern of his tongue slides against your own, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Your lungs stop working, your chest aches, and there’s nothing you can do about it but let the moment pass.

Eddie keeps kissing you soft, though, coaxing fresh air back into your burning lungs. He helps you breathe normally again.

You move together like entwining summer breezes. Your thigh swipes against his lap and his hands find your hips to help guide you the rest of the way over. He’s halfway lying down now and you’re looming like an unconquerable mountain above him. Your back arches like a cat’s and your palms cradle his jaw while your tongue makes uncharted territory of his mouth.

The warmth lingering between your thighs presses into his lower stomach. It makes his grip on you tighten, hands pulling your hips further against him until he hears you moan.

The pressure of your clothed pussy against the pudge of his stomach brings you a distant pleasure. What really does you in is the thought of what little separates you — just the fabric of your cotton underwear and Eddie’s faded grey Tatcher Tire t-shirt.

But it’s hard to be indulgent when you’re so stuck in your head. Your mouth moves with Eddie’s on autopilot while your mind travels elsewhere. Because this isn’t supposed to be about you — it’s supposed to be about Eddie. You want to make him feel good for a change, but you have no idea how to go about it.

The foreignness is strange. It leaves you fumbling like you’ve never done any of this before.

In a way, you haven’t. Eddie is different from any guy you’ve ever been with. Not just because he cares about you, but because you’re practically the only girl he’s ever cared about in this way.

He’s a blank slate and you’re scribbled all over.

You don’t want to taint the pristine image he’s painted of you.

“Hey, Eds,” you murmur. The words are halfway spoken against his mouth because you don’t pull away in time to say them clearly. 

Your tongue darts out to feel how numb your spit-slicked lips have gotten after being kissed so ardently. You know they’re probably swollen and more vibrant in their color now. Eddie’s a lot of the same, mouth rosy and obviously kissed.

“Hm?” the boy hums back.

“Do you wanna… Do you wanna do something else?” you ask him, all slow because you don’t want to say the wrong thing. His brows furrow beneath the thin curtain of his curly bangs. The silent question eggs you on. “Would it be okay if I gave you a blowjob?”

Eddie’s eyes widen for a moment. He swears he goes blind because he doesn’t typically see white when he blinks. The question isn’t the weirdest for a guy in this predicament — with a pretty girl on his lap with his spit staining her mouth. It just catches him a little off guard.

“Would it be…” he tries to echo but trails off with a breathy laugh. You say it like it wouldn’t be perfect — to have you between his legs with your warm mouth on his cock, looking effortlessly beautiful while you swallow him whole. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I think that… I’d be a total idiot to say no,” he manages to stammer out, though words have long lost meaning by now.

The sight of his glazed-over eyes, warmed cheeks, and pink mouth makes you smile. He always looks at you like you’re the most amazing thing he’s ever seen — like you're the infiniteness of space or a deep, deep ocean — something profound he desperately wants to discover.

“I feel like you deserve it, right?” you squint down at him, partially teasing. “For a job well done, you know?”

Eddie nods until he finds the words to respond. “Yeah… Right. Totally.”

“Do you wanna lie down? Or would you rather me get on my knees?” you ask him.

Eddie swears he’s dreaming. He isn’t quite sure how you manage to say something so sinful with such sincerity.

“It might be comfortable to stay like this, but most guys like the visual of girls on their knees better so…” 

There is no seductive lilt to your voice, no mischievous teasing to rile him up. It’s just a question of how he wants you, and it’s a very dizzying thought. Knowing he can have you however he wants makes his stomach all whirly and his vision start to swim like he just spun around ten times.

Eddie just blinks at you. His chocolate eyes and heavy lids flutter slowly like he’s trying to look at you through a layer of honey.

It takes him a second to answer because he doesn’t know what he wants — he rarely ever does, but now especially. How is a boy who wants you in every way imaginable supposed to pick only one?

“Uh, can you—” he starts before the words get caught in his throat. He grunts out a cough to clear it. “Could you, um… get on your, uh— your knees? Please?” 

You smile at how politely he phrases it. You don’t think anyone’s ever said please when asking you for a blowjob before.

Eddie fidgets awkwardly beneath you, and you’re not entirely sure why. You’re the one that just offered yourself up on a platter, totally and unequivocally happy to do whatever he wants. He’s not the one that should be embarrassed.

You nod down at him, still grinning like an idiot. “Sure. You can stay sitting if you want. Whatever you wanna do.”

“Okay…” Eddie mumbles in response.

He watches you with wide, inquisitive eyes as you maneuver off his lap and onto the rug beside your bed. When he swings his legs over the edge of it, you settle intently between them. His cock twitches at the sight of you below him, blinking up at him with sparkling eyes that almost look like they’re begging.

Your palms settle on his clothed thighs as your knees press into the woolen rug beneath you. Your chest warms when you’re finally level with his concealed cock. It makes your heart go silly, the sheer thought of what you’re about to do. You don’t think you’ve ever been this excited to suck dick before.

You wait patiently for him to make the first move — then you realize he doesn’t know how because he’s never had to before. Instead, he’s waiting for you to tell him what to do. With button eyes intently focused on your form and hands anxiously gripping the edge of the bed, he’s entirely prepared to move however you want him to.

“Take off your shirt, Eds,” you guide gently.

He listens to you without thinking twice. His fidgeting fingers reach for the fraying hem of his shirt to yank it up and over his head. He has to tug harder when the neck gets caught around his chin.

It isn’t the first time he’s been shirtless in front of you. Between changing and heated kisses, he’s had ample opportunity to get over his lingering insecurities.

For a while there, he found himself comparing his body to all your other more prominent escapades — the Billy Hargroves and the Steve Harringtons. The overtly masculine types with bodies that scream, ‘I peaked in high school.’

Eddie doesn’t look like them. He isn’t as toned or as thin. He’s got pudge on his belly and sparse hair on his sternum in the place of defined abs and pecks covered in layers of chest hair. He doesn’t look at all like those basketball douchebags that could easily model for whatever magazine basketball douchebags read — if they even know how to, that is.

But you don’t seem to care. You love on him anyway.

Even now, your eyes rake over his bare upper half with a gaze that isn’t anything short of hungry. You reach for his face to pull him down for a ravenous kiss that does little to quell your appetite. Your fingers tangle in the drying strands of his hair in the same way your tongues do. 

Eddie’s patient hands curl around the insides of your elbow as he keeps his lips obediently parted for you. He sighs into each of your eager kisses, more than content to let you swallow him whole.

You move down to his jaw and then to his neck. You nose his curls out of the way to sprinkle wet pecks to the warm skin there. You somehow manage to take your time and move with haste all at once — loving on all the places that need loving, but not lingering in one place for too long because there are too many of them to count.

The tip of your nose trails down his milky torso in time with your craving kisses. You press a final one between his ribcage, tongue darting out briefly just so you can hear his breath tremble before pulling away entirely. 

Eddie’s hands remain on each of your arms as your fingers curl around the hem of his plaid pajama pants. It makes his grip unknowingly tighten.

“Wait,” he blurts with his eyes squeezed shut. You tense almost instantly. “Can you— I mean, can we, just… you know…” he trails off, voice tight like he’s holding his breath. It’s probably because he is.

“What?” you pry with wide eyes and the sick feeling like you’ve done something horribly wrong. “Is this… Is this not okay? We don’t have to, like, do any of this if you don’t want. It was just a suggestion, Eds. We can just—”

“No!” he exclaims, eyes flying open to find your panicked ones. He shakes his wild head so vigorously down at you it makes his curls sway. He both wants to quell your worry and plead for you not to stop. “That’s not it. I— I want to, okay? I do. I really… really do. I just… You’re so far away like this…”

His words drip with a soft sincerity, his honeyed eyes even more so.

Your alarm curls into a gentle smile at his reassurance.

You haven’t had many firsts in a long, long time. Your first kiss was on the playground of Hawkins Middle. Your first handjob was in the locker room of the community pool not too long after. Your first time having sex was on a towel in the grass beside Tina Burton’s pool after her birthday party when everyone else had gone to bed.

All your stereotypical firsts happened lifetimes ago, but you’ve had a billion more with Eddie.

You can say with more confidence than you’ve ever had in your life that this is the first time a guy’s turned down a blowjob because you were too far away on your knees. 

“What?” the boy wavers at your silence. Your accompanying smile is somehow more frightening.

“Nothing,” you assure. Your brows pinch together as you smile up at him. “I just… I really don’t think we can be any closer than your dick in my mouth, Eds.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. His cheeks go rosy at your quip. “You know what I mean…”

“Yeah,” you answer softly. “I know what you mean.”

You rise again, this time planting yourself on his thigh. Your knees settle on either side of his leg and dig into the mattress below you, on top of him all over again. The position is a familiar one. The only thing different is a few months’ time and a lack of Fast Times playing in the background.

Eddie tilts his chin to peer up at you. It’s easier this way, he realizes, to be below you and at your mercy rather than above you. Sometimes he thinks you were made to be on top of him like this.

“How about this,” you lilt with a raised brow. “I can just jerk you off—”

“Sounds perfect,” Eddie nods.

A giggle bubbles from your lips. “Let me finish, you weirdo. I can jerk you off, and you can just tell me when you’re about to finish.”

“Okay,” he answers right before his brows furrow. “Uh… why?”

“So you can come in my mouth,” you shrug like it’s obvious.

Your words knock the wind from Eddie’s lungs — it’s like you’ve punched him square in the stomach. Staring up at you through drooping eyelids, he swallows thickly, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s sounds… Yeah…”

You breathe out a laugh and lean closer to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. You couldn’t help yourself — he’s too damn adorable. Your fingers curl back around the hem of his pants and boxers, dragging them both down in one fell swoop to free his half-hard cock. You tuck the tops of them under his balls.

You’ve seen a lot of dicks in your time — long ones, short ones, thick ones, skinny ones — you could make a damn nursery rhyme of the variety you’ve seen. Eddie’s doesn’t particularly stand out.

It’s middling in length and in girth, not big but not too small either, with a width that won’t hurt to take but will stretch you out nonetheless. 

His cock is pale and a faint strawberry red at the tip. It’s the same rosy color his cheeks get when he blushes. There’s a vein that trails up from his balls and splits like a forking river up to his bulbous head. The bush at his pubic bone is fitting for a metalhead, but it looks like he’s taken a trimmer to the chestnut hair there sometime in the past month or so.

His dick isn’t ugly and it isn’t special, but it’s perfect anyway because it’s his.

“You’ve got a really pretty cock, Eds,” you praise in a low whisper.

He thinks you must be trying to talk dirty, but your gaze gets all shy — quirked brow, curled lip, twinkled eye — like you must really mean it. You seal your compliment with a soft, lingering peck.

“Can dicks be pretty?” he asks you, the question muffled against your mouth.

“Not usually,” you blurt before you realize.

Most guys are gross. They don’t shave because they don’t think they have to. Sometimes they smell bad, too, because they never really learned how to wash themselves. Either that, or they taste overtly of soap because they shoved a whole bar of the stuff down their pants right before.

Boys tend to care less about the situation their cocks are in. Only a handful you’ve been with really knew how to take care of themselves — Eddie for one, Steve for another, and Billy Hargrove on occasion.

“But your’s definitely is,” you promise.

“Um… thanks?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out like a question; he just never thought that exact string of words would ever be spoken to him.

It’s a little bit surreal to receive a compliment on a part of you that most people wouldn’t typically notice — like your shoulders or lips or thighs. Eddie’s almost sure you’ve complimented each of those at some point or another.

You kiss him again, both because he makes it insanely hard not to and because you know that’s the only way to get him out of his head. He’ll never get hard if he’s worried about getting hard. So you keep kissing him, letting him focus on the pattern of your tastebuds and the curves of your cupid’s bow, while you happily do all the work.

Your fingertips trail up and down the underside of his cock. Your caresses are featherlight and meticulous along his warm, stiffening skin, all but coaxing him hard. 

When his cock is totally stiff and standing at attention at his stomach, you part from Eddie to bring your palm to your mouth. You spit a glob of saliva onto the center of it and let the added lubricant help your fist glide along his dick.

A stifled groan rumbles in Eddie’s throat as your fingers wrap fully around him. You’re only touching his cock, but it feels like you’ve embraced every inch of them.

The pleasure feels like static, like he’s just rubbed his socks along the carpet and he’s sizzling with the newfound electricity. He feels it in the tips of his toes and in the strands of his hair.

“Um, just to, uh… save myself the embarrassment,” Eddie cautions shakily. His voice is a few octaves higher than normal and audibly fragile. “I should probably urge you to lower your expectations—” He has to stifle a whine when you squeeze the base of his cock. “—Just a little bit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m probably gonna come, like, really, really quickly,” he tells you and tries his best to laugh. It’s as shaky as the smile he gives you because you haven’t stopped touching him, even despite his warning. 

Your fist squeezes his cock, then rises again. You pause momentarily to swipe your thumb over his leaking tip before sliding back down again. It’s a slow and methodical cycle that’s going to make him burst far quicker than he’d like.

“That’s okay,” you assure with the shake of your head, brows furrowed because you don’t know why that’s such a band thing. You shrug. “Just means there’s more time for me to make you do it again.”

Eddie huffs out a sigh as his cock twitches in your fist, growing somehow harder at your words.

Your unhurried pace hastens in a way that’s still obviously disciplined. Your hand moves faster until you hear his breath start to race and see his milky white chest splotch with red. Then, when his rapid pants begin to tremble, your pace goes back to normal.

You push him to the very edge of the cliff and then pull him backward before he falls.

It’d be agonizing if it didn’t feel so damn good.

His eyes have long fluttered shut by now. You miss his chocolate syrup irises, but the look of pure serenity on his face is the kind of beautiful most people pay to see. His agape mouth, bared neck, rosy cheeks, and long lashes that tickle the apples of them deserve to be hung in the Louvre. 

It’s a sort of heavenly that everyone needs to admire in their lifetime, but one that belongs to only you. The sheer thought of someone else having him this way makes you angry, sparks raging orange embers just behind your sternum.

Eddie grows quiet. Suspiciously so. He isn’t moaning as much as he was before, and his chest is totally still, as though he were holding his breath. You feel his gentle grip on the outsides of your thighs start to harden. You figure the added tension helps him stay hushed. It’s less so accidental and more like he’s trying not to make noise.

“Let me hear you, Eds,” you urge in a whisper. “It’s okay. Go ahead and whine for me.”

The assurance barely spills from your mouth before he’s moaning for you. It’s a long, drawn-out whine that travels from his chest to his throat and out of his mouth, concluding in a fragile sigh.

The sound makes you double your efforts. You want him to make that noise again — you never want him to stop making that noise for you. So you squeeze harder, rise faster, and pay more attention to his rapidly reddening tip. 

You’re not entirely sure what Eddie likes the most. Most guys moan louder when you do something they like, but he seems to like all of it, so you don’t pay extra attention to one place. You keep jerking his cock, faster still, even when the muscles of your forearm start to burn.

“Fuck—” the boy sighs in a heavy moan, then cuts himself off with a pitiful whine.

He tries to lift his head and open his eyes to look at you, but he doesn’t have the strength to anymore. His head lolls back again when the pleasure begins to crescendo.

Sufficiently stupid, he can’t even find the words to warn you. “I’m— I’m close, sweetheart,” he slurs lowly. “I’m… Fuck… Fuck, I’m gonna…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. His face screws up, nose scrunching and brows furrowing, as the feeling becomes almost unbearable. It’s all the warning you need.

Your fist holds onto the base of his cock as you dismantle his thigh and settle on the rug again. You don’t think twice before darting forward to lick the dribbles of pearly-white pre-come spilling from his reddened tip.

You wrap your lips around him totally, cheeks hollowing as you suck him there like he’s a piece of candy.

And Eddie dies. He passes away on the spot.

It’s the only way he can describe the feeling.

The crescendo of pleasure — that’s the life flashing before his eyes. The brief moment of numbness is the infinite void of death. The burst of ecstasy that spits from his cock in one, two, three loads is heaven.

It just has to be.

There can’t be a higher pleasure than the feeling of your mouth on his cock and the way you moan around him when his come spills on your tongue.

Eddie whines something pitiful. He loses all the previous inhibition that kept him so quiet he was too scared to breathe. One hand twists in the sheets while the other settles on the back of your hand, not pulling or tugging, just resting there as his hips buck off the mattress. He can’t tell if he’s running away from the intensity of his pleasure or if he never wants it to stop.

You don’t seem to mind that he doesn’t know.

You let his hips jerk wildly even when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and makes you gag. It does take everything in you not to laugh, however, when Eddie murmurs a fragile “sorry” through his cries.

And when his fingers knot in your hair, you don’t mind that either. You let him halfway fuck your mouth, even though you’re pretty sure he’s too far gone to notice that he’s fucking your mouth.

You don’t stop until he’s shuddering. Only when you’re sure he has nothing left to give you do you finally pull away from him. You leave a delicate kiss to the tip of his softening cock, no longer the angry red color it was moments ago. Eddie’s stomach clenches at the feeling of blatant sensitivity. His face scrunches as another feeble cry gets trapped in his throat.

You snap his boxers and pants back into place on his waist and rise.

“How was that for your first blowjob?” you ask him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Eddie just shakes his head in response. He flops back against the mattress, the springs bouncing under his weight, and tries to find the words to answer you.

He doesn’t know how to tell you that he just saw Heaven and Hell at the same time and that you were both God and the Devil. There isn’t any string of words in any language that could explain the otherworldly pleasure you gave him with nothing more than your hand and mouth, so he decides to stay quiet.

With his eyes still closed, he can hear you laughing quietly at him while you slither in at his side. You lie beside him on your stomach. When you’re finally in reach again, he peeks his eyes open and reaches for you, pulling you toward him for a searing kiss.

You think it might be the first time he’s ever done so without asking awkwardly first — as though there was a world where you would ever turn him down. He seems to understand that now, the way he kisses you without thinking twice about it.

His tongue swipes into your mouth. The both of you moan when he tastes the salty tang lingering there. Eddie doesn’t even realize that it’s him he’s tasting at first — that the heady bitter-sweetness on your tongue is his come.

It’s less so that he’s tasting himself, and more so that his taste is in your mouth at all, that makes him exhale a moan against you. The heavy breath of it fans against your cupid’s bow.

“Oh,” you hum through labored pants when you part again. “It was that good, huh?”

“Better,” he answers with a crooked smirk on his swollen pink mouth. He’s finally able to open his eyes and see more than a blur when his high starts to subside. “That was fucking… I mean, that was… fuck…”

His speechlessness makes you giggle. Your gaze stays locked on his profile when he turns to look up at the ceiling.

“That was exactly what I wanted. And, like, I didn’t even know I wanted it, you know?” he rambles. “How did you— How did you know? How do you always know?”

You’re not entirely sure what he means by that, and honestly, neither is he.

You just always know what he needs. You buy him a toothbrush because you know he’ll forget his, and when you touch him, you know exactly what he likes — even though he doesn’t even know what he likes.

It’s like you’re another half of him, and not in the stupid soulmate way everyone always thinks they’ve found. You’re an identical part of him that no one else can fit. He’s only whole with you — like a sandwich cut into triangles or halves of an orange. 

“Well, to be fair, I did ask Steve what a guy would want in this sort of situation,” you admit with a scrunched nose. “I just sort of went with what he said.”

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he turns his head to peer at you again. He blinks at you for a moment, dumbfounded, then sputters. “Wait— You’re telling me I have Steve to thank for that blowjob? Like Steve-Steve? As in Steve The Hair Harrington?”

His dramatics makes you giggle. You hide your grin behind your palm.

“Hope that doesn’t change anything, Eddie Spaghetti.”

You meant it as a joke, as in, please don’t think of Steve every time I give you a blowjob from now on, but your words settle something heavy on the both of you. 

Because you’ve had Steve The Hair Harrington, in more ways than most friends tend to have one another. You’ve had a lot of people like that. There are people in the world with parts of you that most only give away when they’ve found someone really, really special. 

You learned about that too late. And now you feel a lot less special.

Eddie hears all your dreadful, no-good thoughts because they’re also his own. 

He’s a virgin with the town slut, so he often feels like he’s drowning. It isn’t because of you, though. It’s never because of you. The number of people you’ve slept with doesn’t mean a damn thing to him; he just wants to measure up to them.

He wants to be the kind of man that sticks in your head after you’ve been with a thousand of them — the kind you can’t help but remember fondly because there hasn’t been another one like him.

He’s got no idea he’s already better than every person you’ve ever been with combined.

“No, sweetheart,” he assures with the shake of his head. The apple of his cheek rubs against the fabric of your comforter as he looks at you with eyes deeper than an infinite galaxy. His gaze holds all of its own stars, and each of them is named after you. “It doesn’t change a goddamn thing.”

[roosterforme]

roosterforme's '80s Rocktober Playlist fic challenge

For those about to rock, we salute you!

Let's rock 'n' roll the Top Gun way! Choose an '80s rock song (or pop or country or rap...), and write a fic about one or more of our favorite Top Gun characters! Just make sure the songs are from Rooster's favorite decade, the 1980s!

Or create a banner or mood board! Go with an '80s vibe or a specific song to inspire you and run wild.

Banner credit to @mak-32. Rock on, Mak.

Rules for fics:

Please use the #top gun rocktober hashtag!!!

Once you have your song selected (first come, first served, no duplicates), please send me an ask letting me know which song and character(s) you want to write about. If your song is not listed below, just let me know what you want with your ask and I’ll add it (as long as it fits the decade). If your song has been claimed already, I'll let you know so you can choose another one.

You can use the song in the fic however you would like. Use it as the title, use some lyrics, have the song playing in the background, use it as inspiration, anything you want!

There is no real time limit, but please try to post in September or October.

Please make sure you tag me (or send me a message) when you post your story so I don’t miss it. I can’t wait to read and reblog!

Please reblog and share this with anyone who may want to participate. And reblogging fics is always a treat for writers!

If you’re under 18, do not submit or read smut.

Rules for banners and mood boards:

Please use the #top gun rocktober hashtag!!!

If you want to use a specific song, please send me an ask letting me know which song. If you want to participate with the '80s vibe and no specific song, just send me an ask and let me know you'll be submitting an image or images.

Please make sure you tag me (or send me a message) when you post so I don’t miss it. I can’t wait to reblog!

Please reblog and share this with anyone who may want to participate.

Songs and fics we are rocking out to:

1 @roosterforme What's Your Name by New Order (Bradley)

2 @beyondthesefourwalls Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper (Bradley)

3 @sylviebell Faithfully by Journey (Natasha)

4 @wkndwlff Love Walks In by Van Halen (Bob)

5 @desert-fern Jump by Van Halen (Bradley)

6 @yanna-banana Like a Prayer by Madonna (Jake)

7 @fanboyswhore9 Addicted to Love by Robert Palmer (Mickey)

8 @cherrycola27 Born to Be My Baby by Bon Jovi (Bradley)

9 @trickphotography2 Start Me Up by The Rolling Stones (Bradley)

10 @blue-aconite Every Little Thing She Does is Magic by The Police (Jake)

11 @roosterforme Do You Wanna Touch Me? by Joan Jett (Bradley)

12 @startrekfangirl2233 Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham! (Mickey)

13 @bradshawsbitch Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (Bradley)

14 @bellaireland1981 Can't Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon (Bradley)

15 @wkndwlff Lay Your Hands On Me by Bon Jovi (Bob)

16 @beyondthesefourwalls Jessie's Girl by Rick Springfield (Javy)

17 @thedroneranger Boys of Summer by Don Henley (Bradley)

18 @cottagecori Dancing With Myself by Generation X (Bob)

19 @sweetwhispersofchaos��I Hate Myself For Loving You by Joan Jett (Natasha and Jake)

20 @sometimesanalice Straight Up by Paula Abdul (Bradley)

21 @lovinglyeternal Call Me by Blondie (Jake)

22 @roosterforme Adult Education by Hall & Oates (Jake)

23 @beyondthesefourwalls Your Love by Outfield (Bradley)

24 @mayhemmanaged You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC (Jake)

25 @topherwrites Love Shack by The B-52's (Bradley)

26 @ficsilike-reblogged Take On Me by A-ha (Bob)

27 @cottagecori Rock You Like a Hurricane by Scorpions (Bradley)

28 @jupitercomet Kissing a Fool by George Michael (Bradley)

29 @startrekfangirl2233 Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds (Jake and Bradley)

30 @topherwrites Just Like Heaven by The Cure (Jake)

31 @sweetwhispersofchaos As the World Falls Down by David Bowie (Natasha and Bob)

32 @inmyloveworld Open Arms by Journey (Bradley)

33 @thedroneranger Centerfold by J. Geils Band (Jake)

34 @gretagerwigsmuse Can't Hardly Wait by The Replacements (Bradley)

35 @bellaireland1981 Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar (Jake)

36 @blurredcolour Push It by Salt-N-Pepa (Jake and Bradley)

37 @blackwidownat2814 White Wedding by Billy Idol (Jake)

38 @keep-on-burnin The Look by Roxette (Bradley)

39 @cherrycola27 Secret Lovers by Atlantic Starr (Natasha and Javy)

40 @topherwrites Uptown Girl by Billy Joel (Bradley)

41 @jynxmirage If I Could Turn Back Time by Cher (Jake)

42 @notroosterbradshaw Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks (Bradley)

43 @ficsilike-reblogged Hungry for Heaven by Dio (Beau)

44 @callsign-magnolia Who's Crying Now by Journey (Bradley)

45 @trickphotography2 Every Breath You Take by The Police (Bob)

46 @sarahsmi13s Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard (Jake)

47 @roosterforme Cover Girl by New Kids on the Block (Natasha)

48 @bobfloydsbabe Alone by Heart (Jake)

49 @ughthisisntright The Stroke by Billy Squier (Bradley)

50 @wkndwlff Special Secret Song Inside by The Red Hot Chili Peppers (Jake)

51 @sylviebell Thriller by Michael Jackson (Natasha and Javy)

52 @xoxabs88xox Why’d You Come in Here Lookin' Like That by Dolly Parton (Jake)

53 @paigewinchester67 I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen (Bradley and Jake)

54 @sarahsmi13s Fishin' In the Dark by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (Bob)

55 @callsign-joyride Need You Tonight by INXS (Bradley)

56 @foreverrandomwritings Paradise City by Guns N' Roses (Beau)

57 @cherrycola27 Whoever's In New England by Reba McEntire (Bob)

58 @1234-angelika The Bluest Eyes in Texas by Restless Heart (Jake)

59 @decantedenchanted Right Here Waiting by Richard Marx (Mav)

60 @the-authoress-writes Black Velvet by Alannah Myles (Jake)

61 @withahappyrefrain Somebody to Love by Queen (Bradley)

62 @valhallaas Hold on Loosely by 38 Special (Javy)

63 @talktomegooseman The Chair by George Strait (Jake)

64 @foreverrandomwritings Master of Puppets by Metallica (Mickey and Bob)

65 @poetrieshouse Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran (Mav)

66 @tongue-like-a-razor Poison by Alice Cooper (Jake)

67 @1234-angelika Real Love by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers (Bradley)

68 @the-authoress-writes The Flame by Cheap Trick (Ice)

69 @hangmanstigerlily Can't Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon (Jake)

70 @samsgoddess Hysteria by Def Leppard (Bradley)

71 @eternalsams Cherry Pie by Warrant (Jake)

72 @love-in-light Livin' on a Prayer by Bon Jovi (Bradley)

73 @thatdammchickennugget Summer of '69 by Bryan Adams (Bradley)

74 @whatislovevavy Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears (Jake)

Totally rad cover art:

@ryebecca She Drives Me Crazy by Fine Young Cannibals

@bettycooper Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) by Kate Bush (Bradley)

@ryebecca The Power of Love by Huey Lewis and the News (Bob)

@mak-32 Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car by Billy Ocean (Bradley)

@laracrofted I Love Rock 'n' Roll by Joan Jett (Bob)

@sebsxphia Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners (Bob)

Need some song inspiration? Check out these bangers:

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic - The Police

Start Me Up - The Rolling Stones 

Livin’ On A Prayer - Bon Jovi 

Eye of the Tiger - Survivor

Shout - Tears for Fears

You Give Love A Bad Name - Bon Jovi 

Every Breath You Take - The Police 

The Final Countdown - Europe

Angel - Aerosmith

Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks

Uptown Girl - Billy Joel

Call Me - Blondie

Take Me Home Tonight - Eddie Money 

Free Fallin’ - Tom Petty 

Hysteria - Def Leppard 

I Hate Myself for Loving You - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts 

Just like Heaven - The Cure 

I Won’t Back Down - Tom Petty 

Magic - The Cars

Love Is A Battlefield - Pat Benatar 

Addicted To Love - Robert Palmer

Love Shack - The B-52’s 

Without You - Motley Crue 

Material Girl - Madonna

Legs - ZZ Top

Paradise City - Guns N’ Roses 

Can’t Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon 

Cum on Feel the Noize - Quiet Riot 

[octuscle]

Blonde by FaceTime

Alec has always had a bit of a crush on his friend Van. Actually, ever since they played together in the sandbox. But even then, Alec was the little chubby one. And Van the sweet heartbreaker. Van went through the usual stages to captain of the football team of an alpha career. And now he had his MBA cum laude and was about to embark on a stellar career.

Just to be close to Van, Alec had also studied business. At the same college. Although with his grades, he could have gone to a much better college. And even though he had always wanted to study medicine to become a pediatrician. And now it was all for nothing. Van had moved to Chicago a week ago to become a product manager for an online platform. And Alec had gotten an offer to go to work for an engineering company from their hometown to their branch in the Czech Republic. Alec had paid a high price for his hidden, never-expressed love. Getting a great georgraphic distance from Van now was probably the best solution.

Even now, when Van had become almost unattainable, Alec held on to him. He had gotten a deer, Van's nickname since childhood for some reason, inked on his forearm. And he started running to get closer to his own ideal, Van's athletic body. Today was the first fun run he participated in. He had already lost a few pounds. He was proud of that. So he had a colleague take a picture of himself and sent the Van "Miss you pal" was the caption.

Almost immediately his phone rang. Facetime video call from Van.

"Hi bro, damn you look good! How's life over in old Europe? It's still the middle of the night here, I was just getting in a quick work out before work."

Van turned the view and showed a picture of himself from the mirror. Alec had to swallow and got a dry throat. He didn't know what he was doing. The devil was riding him. So an "I love you" came out of his mouth.

For a second there was silence. "Dude, you better keep your massive cock under control. I would never be able to tame your monster" Van replied laughing. Alec laughed along with him. He was relieved that Van had taken it that way. Yes, the dick comparison had been the only contest with Van in which he had regularly won.

"Hehehehe, it's tough with all the hot studs here at the start."

Indeed, the bulge in his tight running shorts was scary. Many participants in the run, as well as spectators, had already been staring at him and whispering.

"That's what I think, bro! Is your stay successful then? What is the news on the market of nutritional supplements? Can't wait for you to bring back some cool new stuff."

Arec talked a bit about the fitness trade show here in Brno. In fact, there were a few things he wanted to include in the lineup of his fitness startup. He could use a little breath of fresh air for his business. True, he was a genius when it came to marketing and app development. And in theory, he knew everything about crossfitting and bodybuilding. But he just didn't have the body to make it believable. Fortunately, Van was regularly available as a model. When he posted something on Instagram, his sales went straight up.

Van replied that he had seen videos from the show on YouTube. "Dude, you did great on stage. Arac laughed and held the phone so that you could see as much of his biceps as possible. "Bruh, it was just a spontaneous idea. Several people had approached me. Actually, I don't feel in shape for competitions at all" "Honey, I don't think you need to be fishing for compliments right now. Come on, make your tits dance for me!" Arac didn't have to be asked twice. He loved this. The moment when Van had shown him how to do it was just awesome. Today his pecs were almost bigger than his friend's. A few people around him applauded. He had almost forgotten about the conversation with Van that he was standing in the middle of the fair among all the other visitors.

"Did you read the comments on your performance. They called you 'the blond angel'. Suits me, bro." Arac stroked his hair. He loved his blond hair. He had been blond since he was a kid, unlike Van. In pictures of the two of them from kindergarten, Van had always been the one with the darker hair. Today there was hardly any difference between the two.

"Bro, did you write down what all you are supposed to bring. I mean, we both know you can't remember anything with that birdbrain stuck in that hot skull of yours."

"Bruh, i may not b as smart as u, but i can still read ur emails" Arad laughed boomingly. A few guests at the fair took pictures of him. As best he could while talking on the phone, Arad did them the favor and struck a few poses. In his head, he frantically went over what all his duties here were. Fuck, he just forgot everything. And a few tasks, if he had to be honest, he didn't understand at all. He'd graduated from college with difficulty and on an athletic scholarship. He was glad he had Van as a mentor, Van had always been the smart one of the two. "Fuck, bruh! day all speak czech or german here. N english with uh nasty accent. I'm really lost here without uh brain like you!" "Goldilocks, you should have used your head for something other than growing a Viking mane for the last few years." Van laughed. "Don't worry about it, as long as you come back safe and sound!" "Wait uh minute, deer! I've got some selfies to take right now." A couple of the local bodybuilders and a bunch of chicks had already lined up. Arad let them take their selfies with him and turned back to Van.

"Deer, I miss you! When will I see you again?" "Dumbass, I'm already in the locker room. I'll be on the training floor in a minute. Did you clean up and tidy the gym properly? It would be cool if you could at least get this job done."

Brad looked around. Yes, he had carefully worked through the piece of paper with his work instructions. Damn, there sure were a lot of things he had to do in the morning before the Gym opened. He had already secretly let Van in before he officially opened the doors right away. On the one hand, Van could work out before the others, and on the other hand, he had someone to check if he had done everything right. Brad wanted to do this job well. Van earned enough for the two of them, but he didn't always want to be just the decorative accessory. Oh what was he kidding himself. He had turned Van into a fellow who was almost as hot as Brad himself. And now he was making sure they both ate the right diet, that the apartment was tidy. And that Van got to work out before the others. He looked around him. All set, he could open the doors. The door opened and Van came out of the locker rooms grinning.

"Honey, you already know you're not allowed to work bare-chested" "Hehehe, it's not just me who would be happier with that." Van laughed and threw him the T-shirt with the club logo. Before putting it on, Brad gave Van a passionate kiss. Something he had to do now…. Right, unlock the door and let in the members who were waiting outside.He was so glad he had Van.

[scalpho]

ur driver post made me think of this but what do you think the usual configuration is in the hangvan? like who navs, who’s on aux, who sits shotgun vs in the way back etc?

OOOH. i think they normally let zaphriel play DJ (smooth chill tunes that are funky enough to groove to if you so desire, but unobtrusive enough to ignore if you don't), but if someone goes for the aux it'll be fig. most of the bad kids agree that gorgug's metal is a little much, especially for long car drives, and although fig's music taste veers into more hardcore stuff occasionally it's generally more palatable than gorgug's. once in a blue moon they'll try put on their collective fantasy spotify blend but the genre whiplash is Bad. and they've had one too many enthusiastically heated discussions about fabian's preference for bad dance/house remixes of perfectly good classics for the blend to be a popular choice

fig will normally start in shotgun but end up crawling over the seat into the back to hang out with everyone else. riz will usually fill her spot. when he's not up front, him and adaine take the seats right behind the driver/shotgun; they play navigator (frankly, none of the others can be trusted) when needed and fiddle with controls if asked to. besides that, they like to know what's going on up front and when Shenanigans start happening it's normally in the back, so they put themselves in a nice middle ground. kristen's always liked sitting further back, initially for girlfriend reasons but now a) out of habit and b) it's chill back here! great for snacks and chatting but also napping or listening to a podcast when they're all a little tired out. also, furthest back from the front means she's least likely to be asked to do something which is a win for her and also probably for the safety of everyone in the vehicle. fabian is primary snack supplier, but is usually out on the hangman, adjacent to the van where possible and following shortly behind otherwise. he'll sometimes dart ahead, either to scout or just out of pure boredom but will always loop back around. when he is in the van, he'll often take shotgun as is his god-given right to have the alleged best seat (it's not really the best and napping would be more comfortable in the backseats where he can lie down but he wants to kick his feet up on the dashboard and feel important ok).

in general i think there's a lot of Movement - people crawling forwards and backwards and gorgug reminding everyone to please put on your seatbelts because you are not allowed to be mad at him if something happens to you when you are seatbeltless. and it depends on trip length/purpose too. they have their preferred places and some settle in said places more than others but in general on a longer drive no one is going to end in the same place they started

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

jackie comforting reader in the bathroom of a party and it ends with her kissing reader.

Teenage Dream

You thought unwinding on a Friday night would be good for you. You didn't think you'd end up in the bathroom with the Yellowjackets captain.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety/anxiety attacks, drug and alcohol usage

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

You thought getting out of the house would help. You really did. Your anxiety had gotten really bad recently. No particular reason for it. Maybe it was your classes. Maybe it was your friends. Maybe it was the weather. Honestly it didn't matter. You were stressed out.

Parties weren't necessarily your thing. Not to say you didn't frequent them. It was hard not to, when your best fiends were Nat and Van. They were always down for a good time.

You sat and sipped your drink on the couch. Van was somewhere with Taissa. You were glad the two of them were getting close. Maybe more than close.

Natalie, on the other hand, was sprawled out across your lap, high as hell. Not that this was out of the ordinary. Nat was high as hell most of the time.

No one else that you recognized was in your immediate vicinity. There were so many people around you. They were all dancing and having fun. The music was blasting.

Maybe coming out tonight wasn't your best idea.

All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your shoulder. This caused you to flinch away. You didn't know who this was. You didn't want to be hit on. Or touched.

"Hey, y/n, it's just me. You don't need to jump." So the hand on your shoulder belonged to Jackie. At least it was someone you knew.

"Oh. Sorry Jax. I'm just a bit on edge today."

"No worries. It's loud as fuck in here. I'd be on edge if someone randomly touched me too. So sorry about that." She smiled apologetically at you. "Mind if I sit?"

"Oh, yeah. If you want." You nudged Natalie out of the way so that you could scoot over.

Jackie sat down next to you, and you were so close to her that your thighs were touching. The couch wasn't exactly built to sit three people at once.

The party was still loud. Everything was still too bright. And now you were squished between two people on a couch that was only supposed to fit like one and a half people. Not to mention that your long-term crush was sitting next to you. Your supposed fun night out was not at all fun right now.

"I'm running to the bathroom," you said abruptly. Before anyone could respond, you were up off the couch and pushing your way through the sea of bodies. Which wasn't helping your anxiety.

When you finally made it to the bathroom, you locked the door and immediately started sobbing. There were so many people. They all thought you were crazy. They thought that you were weird. They knew you were having an anxiety attack. They knew you were crying.

It was hard to catch a breath. You couldn't breathe. Why couldn't you breathe. No matter how many breaths you took, there wasn't any air in your lungs. You were getting lightheaded.

You slid down the door, head in your hands. You still couldn't breathe. God, why couldn't you just get a breath in? This was pathetic. You were pathetic. Normal people didn't fucking break down over a party goddammit.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. You sat there silently trying to regulate your breathing, praying that the person on the other side couldn't hear you. After a moment, when you didn't say anything, the door handle rattled.

"Y/n, are you in there?" You heard Jackie's voice ask. You couldn't respond. You could barely breathe.

"Y/n, please. You have to say something." She sounded worried. You didn't want her to worry for you. You didn't want her to know anything was wrong.

"I'm not leaving until you say something. Or until you let me in there." She pounded on the door again. You still sat in silence, trying to collect yourself.

She just kept knocking.

Eventually, you caved and turned the lock so that she could open the door. When she heard the click, she immediately pushed the door open. Or tried to, since you were sitting in front of it.

You quickly moved out of the way so that Jackie could actually make it inside. She took one step in and when she saw your red, puffy face, hers immediately softened.

"Hey, y/n, what's wrong?" She asked, moving to sit next to you. You couldn't respond. Your breaths were still shallow, and there were still tears streaming down your face.

When you didn't say anything, she just took your hand in hers and squeezed it.

"Everything's going to be okay, alright? I'm here for you. Just try to take a deep breath. Are you able to breathe with me?" She looked at you expectantly and you nodded.

She started to inhale, and you did your best to match it. You both did that for a while, Jackie breathing deeply and you mimicking her.

When you finally caught your breath, you smiled at Jackie.

"Thanks. I'm sorry you had to see me like this. Normally I'm more put together."

"I'm the one who forced you to open the door. Don't apologize. I wanted to help you." She squeezed your hand again.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Did something trigger this, or..?" She trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

"There was just a lot going on. This hasn't been the greatest week for me. I failed a math test. My friends are being weird. And my anxiety just kind of peaked here," You explained.

"I'm sorry, y/n. That's horrible. You don't deserve that."

"I just wish it didn't happen today. It feels like nothing can go right this week."

"Can I hug you?" She asked.

You nodded. When she wrapped her arms around you, you immediately relaxed. There was so comforting about her.

The both of you just sat there for a while, Jackie's arms around you, holding you close.

"This is nice," she whispered, so softly you weren't sure if you were even supposed to hear it.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted you to do this," you whispered back.

"Hug me?"

"Not... just hug you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked innocently.

"Come on, Jackie. You know what I mean."

"You have to say it," she teased.

"Oh come on," you responded, rolling your eyes.

"Just say it!"

"Fine! Okay! I like you! Is that good enough for you?" You asked.

Jackie pulled back from the hug and smiled at you.

"Yes. Now you can kiss me."

"Oh, can I?" It was your turn to tease her now. But instead of caving, she just waited for you to lean in.

If course, you caved. You leaned toward her, and met her soft lips in yours. She pulled you in, trying to get you as close as possible. Your hands were tangled in her hair, and hers rested on your hips.

You two sat like that for what seemed like ages, drinking each other in. Tongues and teeth and lips. Your hands ran over each others hips and thighs and got tangled in each others hair. You traced the curve of her jaw. She tugged on your hair. It was perfect.

Until someone knocked on the door.

"Y/n? Are you still in there?" Van's voice sounded from outside the bathroom.

Before you could say anything, Van opened the door to see you and Jackie tangled up on the bathroom floor, still kissing. When you heard the door, you immediately jumped apart.

"You know what? I regret asking. Enjoy yourselves." With that, Van slammed the door shut, and you and Jackie were alone again.

You looked at each other and burst into giggles.

"Maybe we should lock the door," you said, still laughing.

"Maybe you're right."

[dudadragneel]

Help again!

Here it is! Sorry for the delay. My sorry ass is addicted in that freaking otome game and I forgot about this one 😅

This one is a request from 🦄!

🦄

Okay so I thought of hyunjin who drinks coffee on an empty stomach (aka a death wish lol) and has to suffer to consequences of a really bad tummy ache that’s hurting him so bad you suggest he just lets himself throw up and get it over with. And do he does get sick…all over The sidewalk while you’re waiting with him in the car to feel better. So you just take him home instead the poor baby 😭

BAD DECISION

An early morning schedule was something normal yet not very much liked by idols. Today, they had a pre-recording for a music show, then a fan sign and then they'd probably go back to the company and then home. Just like sometimes, you could join them today so you met them at the dorms so everyone could go together.

Hyunjin woke up feeling a bit anxious, which was normal from time to time, after all, he was just human and this idol life could be too much sometimes. Just because they've been doing this for years, doesn't mean they don't feel nervous.

He was anxious to the point where he didn't want to eat, he had no appetite and he thought of eating later after he finished recording. But he needed to boost his energy so he decided to just drink some coffee, and that was the biggest mistake he made that day.

- Are you sure about this, Hyune?

- I need some energy or I won't be able to dance.

- I don't think this is gonna work but you do you.

You said defeated, since he was anxious you didn't want to bother him further.

By the time you left the dorms, the effects of drinking that coffee on an empty stomach were starting to show. He felt his stomach start to burn and revolt, and it was as if he regretted every life decision till now.

- Babe...my stomach hurts...

- See? I told you. Drinking coffee on an empty stomach is not good.

- But I've done it before and I was fine...

He said pouting and resting his head on your shoulder.

- Our bodies work in mysterious ways honey, don't trust it that much. Take an antacid, it might help. At least until you can eat a little.

- Okay.

You helped him put on his jacket after he took the medication and then left. Before leaving you talked to Chan while Hyunjin was distracted.

- Chan, keep an eye on Hyune. He said his stomach doesn't feel good.

- Because of the coffee right?

- Yeah...

- Okay.

You went on your car, just to be safe, something deep inside you said that things might go south.

The ride in the van had Hyunjin complaining every now and then that his stomach was churning and he kept drinking water in attempts to ease it.

By the time they arrived at the recording, he felt really bad, his stomach was churning as if someone had lit it on fire and the nausea at the pit wasn't helping.

- Hyung...my stomach doesn't feel good...

- Do you want to wait in the car for a while? Maybe going inside, plus the cameras will make you feel more anxious.

- Can I?

- Sure.

- Can you call y/n to come stay with me?

- Yeah.

You had parked away from where they were for safety reasons and would go inside the building from the back. Then you got a call from Chan.

- Y/n, are you here yet?

- Yes. I'm at the back.

- Can you stay with Hyunjin for a while in the car? He is not feeling well.

- It's his stomach again, right?

- yeah. I'll tell the manager to get close to where you are.

- All right.

The van pulled up next to a sidewalk, further from the reporters and cameras and you got into the car and sat by his side.

- Oh baby.

- Babe, it hurts...it's churning...

- Did you drink water?

- A whole bottle...I feel nauseous too...

- Oh Hyune...don't do that again okay. No coffee on an empty stomach.

- Understood.

He just sank into the seat, closed his eyes, and started to take deep breaths. He rested a hand on his stomach and kept whimpering all the time.

- babe, why don't you throw up? If it's making you feel that miserable?

- I don't want to...I don't like it...

- I know that but maybe it'll help.

- Can you help me? I feel nauseous but not to the point of throwing up. Like, I can feel something in the pit of my stomach.

- Yeah.

He sunk into the seat again and you placed a hand on his tummy. You began rubbing it in circles at first, providing some comfort but earning a few whimpers and grunts from him.

You then changed the approach and moved to the pit of his stomach and gently pressed down.

- Ugh...

He grunted, shifting his position and squeezing his eyes.

- I'm sorry...hang on just a little more

You continued to press down on his stomach and both of you could feel it revolting. His mouth started watering with a foul taste mixed, so he started swallowing convulsively until his mouth became numb and clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

- Hyune...don't fight it. It's best to let it out.

He just nodded a no and squeezed his eyes again. You insisted on your approach, knowing it probably would be better if he got it out of his system.

His mouth started watering again, he could feel something rushing up his chest and a foul taste in his mouth. He gagged wetly into his hand.

- I'm gonna throw up

He said turning to his side, quickly opening the door, and bending over as a stream of pale brown liquid gushed out of his mouth onto the sidewalk. You got out of the car, went to his side to hold his hair, and rubbed his back as he threw up one more time.

- There you go. Get it all out.

He was sitting on the edge of the van, head ducked, you holding his hair. He had a string of saliva hanging from his mouth which he spat out and then took deep breaths. He gagged unproductively a few times before you decided to move your hands to his stomach again and press it and it helped. He burped wetly and another wave came out mixing with the putrid mess on the sidewalk. He choked and coughed a few times, triggering another harsh wave that arched his back painfully and made him go red from effort.

- Oh my god, Baby...

You said patting his back to help him get everything out which triggered another wave. After that, he was dry heaving and spitting out thick saliva.

- Here, rinse your mouth.

You said handing him a water bottle. He spat out and gave it back to you and then leaned on your leg.

- I really don't feel good...

- Want me to call Chan?

- Yeah...I think I'll throw up again...I just wanna go home...

- Okay, baby.

You said stroking his head while he still leaned on you and then grabbed your phone.

- Hey, Chan?

- Oh, y/n. How's it going there?

- Yeah, so...he threw up a few times.

- Really!? How's he feeling now?

- He said he really doesn't feel well. I think I'll take him home for the day. He can't perform like this, he can end up vomiting on stage.

- Okay. I'll tell the boys and the manager. We'll release a statement later.

- Okay. Bye.

- Bye-bye.

You turned your attention back to Hyunjin.

- Let's go home. I'll take you to mine, okay?

- Okay.

- Can you stand?

- if you help me...

You wrapped your arms around him, carefully helped him up, and waited a few seconds until he was steady and guided him to your car.

You settled him, buckled his seatbelt grabbed a plastic bag you had in your glove box a handed it to him.

The drive home had him throw up two times but thankfully you didn't have to pull over. Getting home, he took a bath and then lay down on your lap on the couch, a blanket covering him while you stroked his hair and left a bucket nearby just in case.

You decided to break the ice and joke a little bit and it worked.

- Babe?

- Hm?

- Want some coffee?

You said laughing.

- NO!

[whoreforall]

DECISIONS PT. TWO

tw: kidnapping

*present time*

me and bill are sitting in the hotel room on my bed which is of course near the window. georg left a few minutes ago and always gets super awkward around me. and bill thinks it's because he likes me. in fact that is what he's talking about right now. "y/n you can't deny it any longer! georg has a thing for you!" he whisper yells. "how come you always deny it!" he shakes his head smiling.

"maybe i don't want that to be true because i don't think of him that way." i raised my brows and smiled. bill dramatically gasped. "PLOT TWIST!" he shouts excitedly. "you like someone else." he pointed his finger in my face with a smirk. "who is it. you have to tell me." he sits up straight as i bring my knees to my chest. "no i do not!" i deny his accusations.

"don't lie to me. i'm your bestfriend, acting like i don't know you." he cocked a brow. i felt my face heat up. "no i do not!" i let myself fall onto my back, knees still up. "we aren't supposed to keep things like that from each other." he crossed his arms and gave me a joking dirty look. i laughed at him and sat up. "well i've had a thing for this guy for a little over a year now-" bill cut me off "WHAT!" his jaw dropped open.

"HOW HAVE YOU NOT TOLD ME THIS?!" his eyes widened. "i can't! you know the person. i'd hate myself forever if you knew." i put my hands to my face feeling guilty. "so it has to be someone we both know... and you don't know many people." bill said making me look up. "i only haven't told you because of who it is and now i feel like a middle schooler talking about crushes." i giggled. "well if we sound like middle schoolers so be it. i'm invested. WAIT!" he cut through his thoughts.

"IS IT? NOOOOOO- NO WAY" he laughed hysterically. he laughed for a while making me nervous that he was thinking right. "if i'm right about this i'll make fun of your forever." he said finally calming down. "is it my brother?" he smirked. my heart rate tripled out of no where and my face felt like it was in flames. "i'm right!" he smiled excitedly.

"you were scared to tell me about that for the wrong reason. i don't give two shits if you like him. but i will say you know how my brother has been. he has slept with alot of woman and you are so anti- people to have even lost your virginity." bill chuckles and i smile. "i just didn't think you would like the idea of me being interested in him. i thought it would cause a problem in our friendship and i value our friendship more then your dumbass brother." i giggled.

"he is pretty dumb. always has been. he's always been weird towards you though, like just mean for no reason." he shook his head. "i know i don't even get it. which is also why i don't get how i like him." i shook my head to myself. "who knows. he barely says anything to you and when he does it's always insulting. he's a jerk." bill rolled his eyes. "but i'm also excited about the idea of this." a sly smile formed on his face.

"think about it... we are really close, basically siblings. if you guys got together you would be my sister in law!" he said and started doing a lil dance. i laughed as he did so. "that's only if i got married to him." i said. "married, dating, not dating whateverrrrr. still your my sister." he smiled. "alright brother. well this is your last day of touring and you've got 2 hours before it's starts. better get dressed before the van gets here." after i said that bill stood up and sighed.

"show time!" he said in a sing-songy voice and rushed over to his suitcase, pulling out his outfit before rushing to the bathroom. i smiled to myself and went on my phone. after a little while of scrolling through tiktok there was a knock on the hotel door. i looked up groaning as i got off the bed. i walked to the door and before i could say anything the person on the other side said "it's tom." i opened the door and stepped to the side letting him walk in. he looked at me for a second before looking ahead and walking.

such a boujie ass hotel and they don't even have the peep hole for me to see who's there. such bullshit. once he was far enough in i closed the door. and followed him before returning to my spot on the bed. tom sat on bills bed, "where's bill?" he asked as i picked up my phone. "bathroom" i responded quickly and went back into tiktok. he didn't respond and looked over toward the bathroom waiting. once bill came out and walked over, tom stood up.

"the van is here we gotta go." tom said as he walked past his brother patting his shoulder as he did so. "ok one second." bill said grabbing his phone off the charger before following. "BYE Y/N! I SHALL RETURN!" he laughed. i smiled and said goodbye aswell before the door closed.

i turned my phone off and watched some tv. after a few hours i fell asleep. the sound of knocking woke me up and i sat up rubbing my face. "it's tom!" he yelled outside of the door. i walked over opening it and saw two men. "see i told you she would be here." one of them spoke. my eyes widened and before i could close the door they walked inside. one grabbed me and the other closed the door.

he forced me over to the bed and as i started screaming for him to let go he covered my mouth. my eyes shot wide open once again. my back hit roughly against the bed and the man straddled my lap keeping his hand over my mouth. i felt tears quickly fill my eyes. the other man came into my view and i looked between the two. i was so scared i physically felt it. before i knew it i was shaking.

"open the bag fucking idiot!" the man above me urged the other. the other man set a duffel bag beside me and opened it. he quickly pulled a roll of duct tape out and handed it to the man above me. my muffled cries were heard making them look at me again. the man pulled at the tape with his teeth before the other took it and ripped it off. he removed his hand but put the tape over my mouth.

he slid his hand over it to make sure it was secure and patted the side of my face with a smile. i took my hand and punched the guy above in the dick making him fall over, as i sat up to try and run the other one shoved me back to sit on the bed. he grabbed my hands and put them behind my back. the guy i punched was groaning and holding his crotch. i felt the duct tape wrap around my wrists.

"fucking bitch!" i heard the man groan in pain. after he recovered he stood infront of me. "you better hope they care about you. cause you'll get to live." he shoved me with his pointer finger. "and we will get our money." he smiled pulling his hand away from my chest. he knelt down and the other man handed him the tape which he used to restrain my ankles. i should've fucking kicked him in the face. as he stood up the door opened and in walked bill and the rest of the band.

my terrified eyes were met with bills shocked ones. tom reacted before my brain could fully process the situation unfolding. he lunged at the guy behind me and began repeatedly punching him in the face. i looked over at gustav and georg to see georg already on the phone with security. the other man went to go get bill but security barged inside tackling the man. this is when i realized i was hyperventilating but didn't care about that.

so much happening at once... the other ones pulled tom off, who i didn't realize was still going at it, before pulling the beaten man up. he was unconscious. tom pulled his attention to me and ripped the tape off of my mouth making me wince. "y/n? hey stay with me." i felt my eyes getting heavy. i was so panicked. his voice sounded fainter until he shook me. suddenly i was wide awake and not so drowsy.

tom looked in the duffel bag and grabbed a knife from it. he cut the tape off of my wrists first then my ankles. i looked up seeing security had cuffed the men and were walking out with them. i felt tom press against me and looked down at his shoulder. he was holding me tight, rubbing my back. i felt like i could breath properly again. i looked over and saw another security guard speaking to bill, georg, and gustav. i put my attention back to the hug.

my hands went up, holding tom close. it really happened so fast...

and this is the day that everything changed.

[foxes-that-run]

Only Angel

Only Angel has similarities to Meet me in the Hallway, they 2 of the 10 Haylor songs with Hallways. To me, it is related to So it Goes... which refers to when Taylor performed in the 2014 Victoria's Secret show. Harry performed Only Angel at the 2017 VS show. I have always heard this song to be an assurance to Taylor that she is his 'only angel', like in As it was, she cannot be replaced with girls that 'look just like her' in MMIH Possibly because he was seen with Nadine Leopold soon after the 2014 VS show. It also references Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey which Harry included on his mix tape.

At 2 minutes into this Nashville performance Harry sings "Told her Little Brother" (2.09), further confirmation it is Haylor, with Austin Swift being younger than Taylor unlike Kendall's brother.

Only Angel was last played live in November 2021. It wasn’t at Coachella or after Harry’s House.

Original Lyrics

On 7 December 2023 the demo was leaked with different lyrics. Studio version is like a simplified, shortened and cleaned up radio edit. In the original, the muse has more agency (they knock), Harry has considered proposing 1000 times but it hasn't worked out and it's more explicit. The song also ends, then comes back like their relationship.

Close your eyes, shut your mouth and see That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth And hoping you don't shout about it Now I know a bunch of people who would waste your time But I wouldn't let it happen to a friend of mine We can write ourselves a story without doing lines 'Cause believe me, we can live without it, She's an angel[...] Broke a finger knocking on my bedroom door I got splinters in my knuckles crawling on the floor Could never take you home because your skirt's too short And my mother would be mad about it I must admit I married you a thousand times Had to change my tune when I found out what it’d be like But I meet you in the hallway almost anytime And we won't have to talk about it, yeah, She's an angel[...] She wants to be an angel just you wait and see. But it turns out she’s a devil in between the sheets and believe me I am all about it. Huh. Painted on you on your back, I knew we’d get along. But I caught you staring in the mirror way too long. I could love her if I didn’t think I’d do it wrong. I’m gonna have to take you home, She's an angel[...]

Lyrics

I saw this angel I really saw an angel Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth And there's nothing I can do about it

The first verse, Harry is so drawn to his muse he can’t help winding up with her. They liken their connection to an addiction in MMIH, Clean and Grapejuice.

The “only one in love with me” is Harry calling himself a narcissist and I think refers to Fool’s Gold where he said “Yeah I know your love's not real / That's not the way it feels /That's not the way you feel”

But, like in Fools Gold and Stockholm Syndrome he can’t help himself, he desperately wants to be with this muse

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short But I think that's what I like about it

This verse starts with 2 references that are in other quite sad songs, but set to a dance beat. Something Harry later did so well in As it was:

Taylor also referred to Harry knocking on her door in Suburban Legends but very sadly “You don't knock anymore and my whole life's ruined”

Harry also referred again to being on the floor in Fine Line “And I don't wanna sleep in the dirt”

The short skirt is a reference to Style “And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt”

She's an angel Only angel She's an angel My only angel

This line to me is a response to Is it over now? “Your new girl is my clone”. To me, Harry was saying he only has one angel, as in Victoria’s Secret model, Taylor having performed in 2 VS shows in 2013 and 2014.

After 1989 was released and they broke up they both spent a lot of time with a lot of models. Read into that what you will, to me the role the VS after party plays in So it goes and IDWLF, and the clone line has me noodling on if they were both seeking each other rather than the models.

I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine As I went about my business through the warning signs End up meeting in the hallway every single time And there's nothing we can do about it

I love ‘went about my business and want to make you mine’ to me it encapsulates what I imagine wasted Harry’s chill attitude at that time.

Ending up in hallways links this to MMIH and the 10 other mentions of hallways in their respective songs.

Told it to her brother and she told it to me That she's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets And there's nothing she can do about it Hey, hey

This line about her brother is thought to narrow the muse to KJ and TS, in the above live performance in Nashville Harry said little brother which would be Austin Swift. Harry also got on with Austin.

To me, she’s an Angel/devil is here is similar to Style, where Taylor had “good girl faith and a tight little skirt” both play on the idea of someone seeming good but being wild. Kiwi is also similar “hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect”

She's an angel Only angel x3 Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight x3 My only angel She's an angel x3 My-my-my only angel

The refrain is repeating that she’s the only angel for him, and he wants to go to heaven.

Harry included Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey on his Another Man Mix Tape from an article while he was making this album. The outtro "She's an angel", which is also how Tupelo Honey ends. As Harry said to Rolling Stone:

“I don’t know much about Van Morrison’s life, but I know how he felt about this girl, because he put it in a song. So I like working the same way.”

[indouloureux]

I wanna talk about domestic eddie again and how after you guys move in together you start adopting little habits from each other. Maybe he becomes a little neater while a little mess doesn't bother you as much anymore. Wearing each other's clothes. You wearing his band shirts to sleep in while he throws on your oversized cardigan or hoodie that's still too small for him. Also going out in public and he's holding your jacket and purse for you. Always having to replenish your shampoo and conditioner more often but that's okay because you use his razors now. Having a sleep routine that requires one of you to get or receive back scratches. He's now adopted the sleeping habit of cuddling one of your stuffed animals. He sings in the showers way too loud and way too early in the morning. You cooking him the simplest meals but he acts like it's the best thing he's ever had. Both of you saving up your money and working extra shifts to buy each other a gift for Christmas.

sniffs. don't tempt me to date my fwb 🥹

okay but yes. what's his is yours, what's yours is his. you borrow things without even asking anymore. eddie would wear one of your shirts and it ends up being a croptop on him and you wearing one of his boxers because it's so hot.

he uses your shampoos and conditioners because he has no knowledge of which brand makes his hair more healthy so he uses yours and you comb his hair and make sure his curls are still intact right after.

eddie cleans up when you're at work because he got it from your habit of cleaning up (like me) so sometimes you come home to him vacuuming the floor or wiping dust off picture frames. but sometimes you end up being maybe messier than he is so he cleans up after you and he doesn't mind at all.

sometimes when you sing in the shower, he'll sing along as he cooks you breakfast or when he makes your coffee. he doesn't realize he's been drinking your preferred coffee, doesn't realize he'd like it enough for it to be his usual too.

and sometimes you use his van like its your own. a bunch of your shit in the glovebox that's just sometimes an absolute contrast to his own. he likes the music you like, plays them in his van when he's alone even.

eddie holding your things when you go out [sniffles]. him holding your purse, or tying your shoe laces, opening the doors for you, placing a hand on your back, cutting your nails, being your photographer. like a bodyguard/assistant that you love.

you'll be his emotional supporter. being there when he gets nervous for his shows like a mom, or like what his mom used to do for the talent show back in his elementary years. being his person of solace when everything gets too much, uses you when he stims.

when he's bored or thinking, he'll start writing on your arm bc sometimes he can't see the words he writes on his own arm bc of his tattoos. so unless you don't have tatts that aren't as big as his, he'll write lyrics on your arms.

EDDIE IN A CARDIGAN. he wears it when it's too cold. he does your laundry, gives you massages when you overwork. sometimes he ACTUALLY studies with you and helps you, makes you something when you pass a test.

sometimes dancing in the living room with nothing but a dim light maybe from the other room. he'd turn the radio on and dance with you just because he wants to. i think i'm gonna cry