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thyme-in-a-bubble · 27 days

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night out

a/n: we back babyyy!!! i haven't been able to stop thinking about these two for fucking months, so i wrote both this aaaaand another part to wrap up their story and get it out of my system.

summary: “I can’t believe you’re fucking jealous right now…”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader x ex!peter parker, light smut, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, bffs kate bishop and yelena belova, french rave, dancing, kissing, over-the-clothes fun, foreplay, references to public sex, choking, manhandling, jealousness, possessiveness, angst, arguments, brat mode activated (though its totally justified), these hoes are not dealing with their emotions in a healthy way but it's just for the sake of yummy drama

word count: 1993

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“I thought we were just going to a cute little wine bar, not a fucking rave,” you yelled over the music as your friends dragged you further into the warehouse.

“Oh, come on, babe,” Yelena boomed, slinking her arm around both yours and Kate's neck, “don’t be a chicken now.”

“Yeah,” your brunette friend on the other side of Yelena tilted her frame to catch your apprehensive eye, “you already sneaked out, so you might as well make it count.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” you groaned, your gaze narrowed to a squint as you got used to the warm flashing lights that dully illuminated the club.

“Then you must always hate me,” a smug smirk spread across her features before the trio of you ventured further into the crowded space.

As the night faded away, you found yourselves bathing in the strobes of neon light as your bodies moved on their own accord, like you were all part of a hive, buzzing together in harmony.

But then when you tapped both of your dancing friends on their shoulders and ushered their ears to lean in close to your lips, you told them, “I’m gonna go get some water,” receiving two thumbs up before you made your way through the crowd to the curved bar in the corner.

However, after the bartender handed you a plastic bottle and you tilted your head back to take a much-needed sip, a familiar voice found your ears from across the bar.

“As I live and fucking breathe,” you tipped the bottle back down and glanced down the way at the unexpected figure moseying closer to where you stood.

“Peter!” a surprised smile couldn’t help but spread across your features, “what are you doing here?”

Settling in beside you, he said, “it’s a Saturday night, where else would I be?”

“No, I mean, what are you doing in Paris?”

“Oh, what, am I not allowed to be in your city anymore since the breakup?” he joked.

“No, of course, you can be here.”

Leaning in even closer so that he didn’t have to yell as loud, he asked, “so how are you doing?”

“Me? I’m good, yeah,” your head bobbed in a nod, “how about you?”

“Can’t complain,” his gaze washed over you as if no time had passed at all, “so… can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you shifted the water bottle to your other hand.

“You seeing anyone?”

“Oh, wow,” you half coughed, “Peter Parker, king of subtlety.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count, so I figured subtlety went out the window a long time ago,” he smirked, “so, are you?”

“I–, uhm…” your eyes averted a moment as you uttered, “no.”

You weren’t, it was true. Though the reason for why you’d sneaked out in the first place did have to do with a matter of the heart.

You’d asked your friends what their advice would be if you hypothetically needed to get over someone. They both of course assumed that you were referring to the man standing before you in the disco and not the person who watched you like a hawk every minute of every day. The method they had suggested wasn’t a sound one, though one that still found you desperate enough to try.

To go out, meet someone else and bang the dude out of your system.

“Can I ask you something else?” Peter asked again, ripping you out of your thoughts, away from your bodyguard and back in the moment. As you offered him a nod, he smiled brightly, “you wanna dance?”

And that’s how you found yourself in the middle of a crowded dancefloor, plastered against your ex.

It didn’t take long before your lips reunited as well, staying locked as you both let your hands wander, though for you it wasn’t entirely in the spirit of rekindling something that you’d missed, and more to help you forget about the person who you truly wished to lose yourself on a dancefloor with.

“Fuck,” you heard Peter groan in your ear and his desperation poked your lower abdomen for the attention you used to give it, “you wanna go slip into the bathroom?”

“Uhh,” you giggled as his lips tickled the side of your neck, “what kinda woman do you take me to be?”

“Mine,” he smiled, “that’s who. I know you. A club bathroom is nothing… remember Amsterdam?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” your body tingled at the thought.

“That’s also an option, if that’s the kind of mood you're in,” he winked.

Chuckling as he squeezed your tit, you shook your head lightly, “I’m not fucking you here on the dancefloor.”

“Oh, come on, it–”

But the rest of your ex’s sentence was cut short as a figure forced itself between you two and pried you apart.

Instinctively reaching out for Peter as he was forcefully pushed back, your arm then faltered as you blinked up to discover who had shoved him.

“Barnes,” a shiver ran down your spine at the stormy expression plastered all over his face, a side of him you’d never witnessed before, “I–”

But he cut you off, only to bark, “out, now.”

“But I–”

“Do you wanna walk on your own or should I just toss you over my shoulder?” he glared down at you just before you watched Peter’s hand plant itself on Bucky’s broad shoulder.

“Hey, dude, don’t touch her, back off,” your ex tried to square up to the intimidating guard dog.

“No, no, Peter, it’s alright,” you rushed to explain, knowing full well that your bodyguard could and would put him in the hospital, “he’s–…” your eyes briefly flickered up to Bucky’s steely blue eyes, still directed at you, “he’s my bodyguard,” before you let your touch graze Peter’s forearm, “I’m so sorry, it was great seeing you again, but I have to go.”

Getting dragged out of the club like a perp from a crime scene was not the way you’d imagined your night would wrap up.

After he’d virtually tossed you in the back and slammed the car door shut behind you, you fished out your phone and swiftly sent your friends an explanatory text while you half-watched Bucky march around the vehicle to the driver’s side.

The silent treatment he then served you nearly felt worse than the heated words you imagined tumbled around in his head as he fumed, his knuckles nearly turned white from how fiercely he was gripping onto the steering wheel.

But when you finally mustered the courage to break the eerie silence, your words came out just above a whisper, “I’m sorry…”

“Are you?” his eyes snapped up to find yours in the review mirror, “really? Because I don’t fucking buy it.”

“Well, I am!” you threw up your arms, “what do you want me to do?”

“Not sneak out like a fucking teenager to get drunk with your little boyfriend,”

“I’m not drunk and he’s not my boyfriend!”

Not taking any of your words to heart, Bucky went on, “you know how stupid this was, right? What if something had happened, huh? I know you didn’t personally read the threats you got back when I first got this job, but trust me when I tell you that if any of those fuckers had gotten their hands on you tonight, you’d be lucky if you were still breathing when the sun rose. This is exactly the sort of reckless behaviour that caused you to need my help in the first place.”

Your mouth then fell open, utterly stunned at his audacity, “oh my god… you’re unbelievable…” you uttered breathlessly before hazily commanding, “stop the car…”

“No–”

“Stop the fucking car!” you roared, casting your gaze to him once more till you felt his foot step on the break.

As the car screeched to a stop, you wasted no time ripping the door open and storming out.

Though you didn’t dare to look back, you still heard him exit the vehicle as well and shadow you as you wandered a few paces away, just far enough for you to be able to get some air.

“Y/n,” you heard him from just a few meters behind you, “get back in the car–”

But you didn’t shift your feet as you then interrupted, back still turned to him.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking jealous right now…”

“What?”

“Well aren’t you?” you heatedly twisted around to face him, “because it sure fucking looks like it. Getting all fucking possessive, ripping me away from my ex before I can crawl my way back to him, before I get the chance to feel anyone inside of me but you–”

“Stop–”

“Is that it? You just want me all to yourself?” you kept on poking, too blind by your fury to consider the consequences, “you want it to be you that I’m so in love with that I’d make you personalised porn, which would consequently ruin my life and cause me to have a babysitter essentially stalking me.”

“Stop!” he took a step closer as he barked.

“Unless you’ve already seen the tape,” your feet shifted back, keeping him at a distance, “fantasising that it’s for you, getting yourself off to the image of me bouncing on that pretty pink dildo–”

Your sentence then crumbled into a shrivelled yelp as you felt his cold metal hand seize your neck and push you the last few inches up against the brick wall behind you.

His fingers didn’t squeeze you in the slightest, though you still knew just how easy it would have been for him to tighten his grip and turn it into more than just a raging warning.

“You done?” he spat as his eyes pieced directly into your soul, “or do you wanna give me more reasons why you’re nothing more than a spoiled little brat, why I should just quit now and not have to deal anymore with what a fucking pain you are in my ass?”

For the life of you, no attempts at offering him an answer were successful on your lips.

He scared you.

He’d never scared you before.

Both because of the explosion you’d undoubtedly made even worse than it had to be, but also his fleeting threat of leaving you for good.

It all terrified you…

Though, there was also a different sensation that it awoke within you, one that caused your eyes to flutter down towards his lips, an action that your bodyguard surprisingly mirrored as well as your heated breaths synced up.

You had no idea who moved first, if it was you or him, but the next thing you knew, you were kissing him.

With adrenaline still pumping in your veins, you clawed at his broad frame as you let your tongue flicker out and flutter against his own. The steely hand that had locked itself around your neck softened and whisked down your form, mirroring your own starving touch as he securely held you like you were about to fall.

However, just as your palm slid down to find the bulge in his pants, rubbing it needily before your fingers tried to seize the short zipper, Bucky took a large step back, snapping to his senses and creating a wide distance between him and your melted form against the brick.

His eyes refused to meet your foggy ones as he held them to the ground, slowly catching his breath before uttering, “get in the car,” defeat shining through in his low tone.

“Bucky–,” you tried, but without success as he then cut you off.

“Please, just–…” his gaze fluttered shut a moment as you then heard him sombrely promise, “look, I’ll make sure your mom doesn’t hear word of what happened tonight. If we go now, then we’ll arrive before any of the staff wakes up, no one will notice.”

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.

"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."

"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"

Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"

"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."

"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."

Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."

"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."

"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.

Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.

For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"

"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."

"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"

"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.

"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"

"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."

The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.

---

They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.

"You're on time," he says.

Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."

"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."

"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.

"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"

They start with dice, with a character sheet.

"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.

He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."

"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."

"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.

"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."

"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."

"Migraines?"

"Head trauma."

"Byers?"

"And Hargrove."

"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.

"Hit me in the head with a plate."

"What the fuck."

"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."

Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.

"We've been through some shit together."

"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."

"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."

"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."

"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"

"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.

"Completely," Steve admits.

"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."

---

They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.

It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.

It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."

"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"

Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."

"But--"

"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.

Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."

"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.

---

Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.

It doesn't.

Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.

"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.

"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.

Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."

"Can I do anything?"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry?"

"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"

"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.

"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.

"Yo--you did?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.

"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."

"Shut-up," Steve laughs.

"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.

The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.

"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.

"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.

"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.

"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.

"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #ficlet #oneshot #dnd lessons #falling in love #mutual pining #eddie's down so bad #first kiss #secret nerd steve harrington #i don't know anything about dnd actually so sorry if it's wrong #strangers to friends to lovers #alternate first meeting #big eyes soft curls full lips can't lose #“shut up” “make me” is a love language

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emotionoitme · 1 month

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trouble

trouble - coldplay

part 3 of don’t call my name

warnings: angst, hurt + arguing but it’s steamy, drinking and clubbing, some violence (she gets grabbed and threatened but nothing happens), guard dog carmy bark bark, carmy throws hands & brief mention of blood. comfort sex, sappy and sweet but hot, it’s unprotected what else did you expect from me, dirty talk, some drama with claire i’m sorry

wc: 9.0k

a/n: so…i told everyone this was going to be 3 parts when it actually needs 4. i fear i am just too much of a yapper. i love these two and think i needed to do the story justice. so stay tuned for ch4. hehehehe. hope u enjoy!!! (it is going to get angsty)

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carmen berzatto is a shitty communicator.

this we know to be a fact.

it’s just, sometimes when there are a thousand thoughts swarming around his head, it’s easier to not say anything at all. that makes sense, right?

the girl wakes up the next morning to find herself alone. the plush king sized bed almost mocks her with emptiness.

she knows that carmy is a hard worker. a michelin star kitchen doesn’t just run itself. still, it might be nice to get a note, or text, or anything that would reassure her last night wasn’t just some fluke to to him.

the silence of the apartment is almost deafening. she trudges down the stairs and walks to the kitchen, pouring herself what was left in the coffee pot from carmy’s early morning.

she feels lethargic, sore, and a little stung from waking up alone. no text or anything, she thinks.

but there was still time. maybe he was just really busy today. she pushes away the negative thoughts and slaps both of her cheeks lightly, trying to wake herself up. it would be a good day. he would text her or call her when he got a break. and they would talk about it. she puts a smile on her face at the delusion and hops back up the stairs to get dressed for work.

the girl tries to busy herself when she gets there, picking up extra slack from coworkers and bustling around to finish projects. trying to not check her phone.

she goes on lunch break with no text from him.

gets off work at 5 with no text from him.

throws his sheets in the wash and remakes his bed with no text from him.

eats dinner with no text from him.

watches a movie at 9:30 with, you guessed it.

she throws her phone back onto the bed angrily, the false wall of positivity built in her mind beginning to crumble. she’s tired and annoyed, so she shuts off the movie and buries herself in bed, trying to push thoughts of him out of mind so she could sleep.

she tells herself that they can talk tomorrow. but then, tomorrow comes and it’s the same nothing, almost like she didn’t even have a roommate.

three silent days go by until the girl decides she’s had enough, and plans to wait up for him and have a talk. maybe he just wasn’t a texting type of guy, she tries to comfort herself.

she grabs her book and a throw blanket and camps out on the couch, waiting for him to get home.

it’s close to midnight before she hears keys jingling and the lock turning. her heart drops inexplicably but she remains nonchalant and continues reading her book until she hears him take a few steps inside.

she turns her head, watching him talk on the phone as he slides his shoes off. he doesn’t notice her in the dim light of the living room, and his brows are furrowed, hand running through his messy curls.

“yeah. yeah, i’m- i know….sorry again,” a pause, “okay. i’ll see you saturday. bye, claire.”

her eyebrows shoot up at the name, the sinking feeling with in her stomach increasing tenfold. this motherfucker.

carmen makes it halfway into the living room before he notices her on the couch, slightly startling at her presence, mumbling a “shit”

her face feels hot, but not in the good way she had grown accustomed to the past few weeks.

“hey,” he greets softly, eyes looking tired, shoulders slumped.

she just glares at him and goes back to reading her book.

he says her name. she ignores him.

the man lets out a small scoff, stepping closer to the couch, hand on his hip.

“what, you, uh, ignoring me?”

she glances up at him and there’s a small smirk on his face, like he thinks it’s joke or something.

she opens her mouth to say something mean, but stops herself. takes a deep breath. recenters.

she slams her book shut and turns to face him.

“i’m going to bed.”

the man’s small smirk drops, watching as she shoots up from the couch and starts heading towards the stairs. he grabs her wrist to stop her.

“hey,” he says, firmer this time.

she whips around and pulls her arm back.

“what?” she snaps.

his brows furrow at her tone of voice. he pauses for a second, eyes raking down her face, taking in her expression.

“why are you acting like that?” he asks.

the question does nothing but make her feel angrier.

“because you’re being fucking confusing,” the girl exclaims, her throat growing tight.

“how am i confusing?” carmen replies with a surge of annoyance, “you woke me up the other night with…” his eyes dart down her frame, “half your fuckin’ clothes on.” he tries to sound angry, but his voice betrays him a bit. truthfully, it was like his prayers had come true when he opened his eyes to find her straddling him in underwear and a tiny little top that barely kept her chest contained.

“yeah cause i thought you were into me,” she frustratedly sighs, “but you’re just…using me to get over claire.”

the allegation wasn’t rooted in fact. but that’s how the girl felt, and she confuses the two in the moment.

“don’t say that.” he snaps, “that’s not fuckin’ true in the slightest.” carmen had been done with claire for months at this point. if anything, he had been trying to use claire to get over his roommate.

“it’s been three days since we-… and you haven’t said anything,” she sighs, rubbing her forehead, feeling a headache come on.

he knows his, and feels guiltier than she could even imagine. but he also knows she’s leaving in a few short weeks, and doesn’t want to fall any deeper than he already has for her.

“i got busy at work.” he defends. it’s a shitty excuse, but as usual, it’s the first to come to mind.

her eyes brows crease further.

“you have a phone.” she chides.

“i just…i didn’t think about it,” he lies, “i’m sorry.”

she scoffs and shakes her head.

“god, you’re so-,” another sigh, “you know, whatever, carm.” she turns from him and begins to walk up the stairs.

he hates how his eyes glance down to her ass, peaking out from beneath a pair of short shorts.

god he’s a fucking loser, he tells himself.

carmy calls her name again. she ignores him.

the girl slams her bedroom door behind her and throws herself onto her bed. she tries to fight the hot, angry tears that stream down her face, telling herself it doesn’t really bother her. telling herself that he’s just another stupid guy, and she can find better. this does nothing to ease the burning feeling in her chest, though, a pair of soft blue eyes flashing in her mind. thinking of the way he was rough with her while still being gentle, kissing her face and calling her sweet names. thinking of how he held her and wiped her tears and assured her that things would work out.

fucking asshole!

she grabs her duvet and pulls it over her head, wrapping herself tightly and burrowing into the pillow. she tells herself that she won’t make the mistake of giving into him again. wouldn’t ever grace him with her lips or fingers or sweet moans again.

she tells herself that she doesn’t need him. she could easily find someone else that would satisfy that same feral craving she had for carmen.

in fact, tomorrow would be friday, and she hadn’t gone out in a long time. she decides on calling up a friend and making a friday night plan to go out. drink, dance, and prove to herself that there’s better for her out there than carmy.

the girl aggressively rubs her face of tears and shoots up out of bed, grabbing her phone to send the invitation to a girlfriend. her phone pings with a quick response, and the girl confirms her plan for the following night, already envisioning what to wear. the thought of seeing carmy tomorrow night before she goes out makes her stomach churn. the thought of seeing him at all makes it churn, actually.

she tells herself that she only has to stick it out for another month or so. then she would go back to california and things would be normal. no more stupid boys. no more heated touches. no more whimpers being greedily devoured by hungry kisses.

she tells herself that’s what she wants.

it doesn’t feel genuine in the slightest.

the following morning she rummages through her closet and picks out a couple of skimpy options. she studies herself in the mirror, holding up the various items up in front of her nude body, wondering what carmy would think of the outfits. she quickly tries to push the thought out of mind. she doesn’t care what he thinks, she reminds herself. her eyes fixate on the finger-shaped bruises scattered about her hips. she thinks of how they got there.

her day at work seems to go impossibly slow. the girl finds herself thinking of carmen constantly, caught between hoping there would be a text from him when she would check her phone and hoping she would never hear from him again.

her mind frequently flashes to the way he handled her a few nights ago. how he kissed her obsessively. how he held her up once her legs had given out. how he relentlessly plowed into her and called her a pretty girl and told her she was made for him.

the thought simultaneously makes her horny and angry, something that she had never experienced so vividly until now. she wanted to slap his face, but at the same time she wanted to kiss him and grind against him and beg for him again.

it’s entirely confusing.

by the time 10 o clock rolls around, she begins to get ready, meticulously styling her hair and applying her makeup. she opts for a sultry, smokey look, accentuating her eyes with dark shadow and liner, glossing her pouty lips with a clear lacquer. the girl tries to hurry the routine, anxious to make it out the door before carmen gets back.

she strips her clothes off and slips into her club apparel, then decorates her look with rings, bracelets, earrings, and a necklace. as she slides her thigh high boots on, she hears the front door open, then slam closed.

“fuck,” she harshly exhales. looks like she would have to see him after all.

carmy racks his keys onto the hook and steps out of his shoes, taking a deep breath at the relief of being home. it’s not until he notices the light coming from upstairs that the relief is replaced with a sense of anxiety.

he knows he needs to fix things between him and his roommate, if he could even refer to her as just that anymore. he had felt like a jackass all week, but apologies were never really his strong suit. he didn’t even know where to start.

the man empties his pockets out onto the credenza, then begins to make his way into the living room. he stops in his tracks when he hears the click of heels descending the stairs.

as he turns his head and catches sight of her, he fights to stifle a groan.

she comes down clad in a tight top and mini skirt, length of her legs emphasized by black thigh high boots. his eyes rake down her body, admiring the curve of her figure and the appealing fit of the clothes. he wishes that she would dress like that all the time, but he doesn’t tell her that, instead just opting for a casual, albeit slightly strained “hey.”

she looks at him, but doesn’t reply, instead sauntering over to their bar cart and pouring herself a shot. he realizes the top is backless, and clenches his jaw a bit, trying to recenter with a deep breath.

“you, uh…you look nice,” he clears his throat.

she throws back the shot and shivers.

“thanks,” her response comes dryly, walking over to grab her purse, “i’ll be back in a few hours.”

carmen feels his brain stutter, processing what she said, his eyebrows furrowing.

“wait you, uh, you’re going out dressed like that?” he can’t help but feel a bit protective, even if she is pissed off at him. the girl scoffs.

“i can’t really go to the club in sweatpants, carm.”

he rubs a hand over his face, trying to keep calm.

“you could, uh….at least put a fuckin’ jacket on or something though?” he tries to suggest kindly. his tone betrays him.

“yeah?” she turns towards him, “why the fuck do you care?” bite in her tone.

his eyes fall over the multiple hickeys that litter her neck, then flicker over her face, realizing how striking her features look accentuated by dark makeup. she looks angry. a little hurt. he wants to say something soothing.

“cause i-fuck,” hand threading through his hair messily, “because i know how guys think.”

nice. real soothing.

“yeah? n’what do they think?” she challenges.

that anyone would want you. that you look fucking hot wearing those tight little clothes.

carmy opts to not respond so directly, and walks closer to her.

“i just don’t want you to get… hurt.” his tone is firm, jaw set tightly. she lets out a sardonic laugh at this. at the fact that he’s her biggest source of hurt at the moment.

“what, you think it’s funny?” he barks, “you could get fuckin’…picked up or drugged or something.”

she rolls her eyes.

“that’s not gonna happen. i’m going with a friend.” she snatches her purse off the credenza, fumbling through it to make sure she has her id. he takes a few steps closer. until he can smell her sweet perfume.

“well, let me drive you guys then.”

she shakes her head.

“no. we’re getting a cab.” zipping up her purse and hanging it over her shoulder.

“fuck, then call me when you get there. and when you’re leaving.” he snaps a bit, becoming a bit fed up with her attitude.

“not gonna fuckin’ call you, carmy,” her face scrunches up in anger, “i’ll probably end up going home with someone, anyways,” she fibs, locking eyes with him, unintentionally leaning in a bit.

“you what?” he angers, moving even closer to her, their faces mere inches apart.

she can feel the shot she took now, eyes darting down to his lips. fuck his deodorant. the smell of it makes her want to give in.

“‘mgonna find someone tonight,” her tone lower now, lids low, “‘n they’re gonna fuck me better than you ever will.”

he scoffs, blood boiling at her words, shaking his head, eyebrow twitching.

“yeah, uh, that’s not gonna fuckin’ happen.” his hand comes to wrap around her hip, squeezing. his face comes closer, lips nearly ghosting hers.

“yeah?” she challenges, actively fighting to keep from diving in, eyes locked on his lips.

“yeah,” tone firm, “tell your friend you’re staying in tonight.”

she doesn’t know why she feels so turned on. still pissed off, yes, but mostly aroused.

she rolls her eyes and lets out a laugh to hide this, but he can tell. he can always tell by the slight flutter of her eyelids and the way she’ll part her lips. he knows that she likes when he talks to her like that.

the girl channels all of her strength and steps away from him, opening the front door.

“see you tomorrow,” she chimes, walking out. he calls her name as she walks away, but she ignores him. he tells himself he’s too proud to chase after her, but really he wants to do nothing more.

as she makes her way down the hall, his eyes rake down her exposed back, settling on her shapely ass.

this girl was going to drive him fucking crazy.

carmy berzatto (2hrs): you make it there?

missed call from carmy berzatto (1hr)

carmy berzatto (30min): call me if you need a ride home.

the girl shuts off her phone, shoving it back in her purse and strutting to the bar counter. sure, now he cared enough to send a text.

jealous motherfucker.

it had been a girls night out until her friend went home with an ex boyfriend, leaving her all alone at the club. she leans over the counter, pushing her hair over her shoulder. her feet are sore from the boots she had picked out, coupled with an hour or so of nonstop dancing.

the girl had planned to leave as soon as her friend did, but made the mistake of passing through the main room where they were playing 2000s music. she couldn’t just not dance to 2000s.

the bartender works quickly to accommodate the numerous orders. she feels the drink she had been sipping on affecting her, comfortably bathing in the multicolored lights of the club. it was packed with people, and she had been noticing eyes on her all night.

the girl feels a hand on her lower back, and she turns to meet the eyes of a tall man.

“hi,” he says.

“hey,” she softly replies.

he was admittedly handsome, and his muscular stature didn’t hurt to look at either.

“can i buy you a drink?” the man asks.

the girl softly smiles and nods. he raises his hand to flag the bartender. she was planning on getting a water, but since she wasn’t paying for it…

the stranger makes small talk with her, the two having to practically yell into each other’s ear to hear over the bass of the music. jobs, what part of town they live, compliments. not that she really cares about any of it, though she tries to.

as he leans in to ask if she’ll dance with him, he places his hand on her waist. she tries to ignore how it doesn’t feel right.

he’s cute, she tells herself, and i needs to stop thinking about carmy.

the girl takes a long sip of her drink and nods softly, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor. they squeeze through the crowd of bodies, and she turns to face him, hand on his chest. he places a hand on her lower back, and they begin to move to the beat. she takes another long sip of her drink, closing her eyes, coming closer to the man, swaying her hips. his deodorant doesn’t smell as good as carmen’s does. doesn’t comfort her like his does.

she takes another sip, and she circles around, moving her hips, facing away from the man. the music resonates through the whole building, lights flash and change color, making her movements feel dreamlike. he places his hands on her hips.

she wishes that she liked how it felt.

the man presses his hips into her backside. she imagines it’s carmen, and the thought makes her bite down onto her lip. her head falls back against his chest. she thinks of her roommate’s strong arms. his tattoos. the way his face scrunched up when he fully engulfed himself in her. the girl lets out a breath. her skin feels hot and sticky in the muggy club air. she takes another long sip of alcohol, feeling lips on her neck. they feel strange and unfamiliar. it doesn’t set off that tingling sensation in her lower stomach. she groans out of frustration.

“mmm you like that don’t you, pretty girl?” the man slurs into her ear.

the name makes her heart drop, and all of the sudden she feels like she needs to throw up. she shoves the stranger’s hands away and stumbles forward, pushing her way out of the crowd. the floor feels like it’s tilting on an axis as she cringes at the feeling of other sweaty bodies touching her. she gets shoved into by a big group and loses her drink.

it’s suddenly hard to breathe. the girl feels her throat tighten, her chest burning, wiping hot tears away. she fights and pushes and weaves through the crowd until she finally breaks free, making a beeline for the glowing red exit sign. the girl shoves the door open, almost tripping over the frame, and stumbles out into the cold night.

the frigid air helps alleviate some of her nausea, skin rising in goosebumps. she trudges along the brick wall and leans her back against it, focusing on taking deep breaths. her hands run through her messy hair, pushing it out of her face, closing her eyes, trying to stop the steady flow of tears.

this night was supposed to be fun, but all she wanted to do was go home and sleep this booze off. all she wanted was carmen.

her hands fumble through her purse, grabbing her phone. she drops it, muttering a “shit,” and crouches down to pick it up. she squints her eyes at the light of the display, struggling to navigate to the uber app. she enters her address, cursing internally when she sees the friday night surge prices. instead, she exits uber and finds her contacts, hovering over the number of a cab company. her eyes glance towards carmen's contact, right below.

she doesn’t want to call him. he was being an asshole, and she hates how easily he was able to get under her skin. so she dials the contact for the cab, listening to the line ring. and ring. and ring. almost infinitely, then a automated voice of “your call cannot be completed.”

“fuck,” she curses, terminating the call.

her eyes fixate on his name, pausing and contemplating.

she rolls her eyes and dials it. the line rings twice and gets picked up with a raspy greeting and a “y’okay?”

she stays silent for a second, not sure what to say. he says her name.

“did you know that you are-” she hiccups, “s-so mean?” it’s the only thing that comes to mind.

“are you drunk?” he asks.

“no. m’not” she argues, wiping a stray tear.

“you sound drunk,” he retorts, “where are you? i’m coming to get you.”

“you’re so fucking…rude. ‘nyou think you can just do whatever you want because you’re so-” hiccup, “hot… and big…you irritate me, carm,” she slurs into the line. she opens her mouth to say more, but he cuts her off by saying her name sternly.

“you at prysm? tunnel?”

“yeah. that one.” she hiccups again.

“tunnel? okay, stay right there. i’m getting in my car now.”

“ok but i’m still mad at you,” she murmurs, leaning against the cool brick. he scoffs, and starts saying something about her bad attitude, but she cuts him off by hanging up, harshly exhaling and closing her eyes tightly. the tears continue falling, so she just tries to focus on her breathing.

a cool breeze causes her to stiffen, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. it’s uncomfortable, but grounding. her head stops spinning so much as she begins to breathe deeply. the tears come to a steady stop, but the aching in her chest doesn’t. she wishes carmen would hold her and kiss her head.

around fifteen minutes pass before she hears the back door of the club open. the girl keeps her eyes shut, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t bother her. though it seems she’s not so lucky tonight, unfortunately.

“hey, you,” a deep voice says. she snaps her eyes open to find the same tall man she was dancing with earlier standing in front of her.

she just stares at him silently, crossing her arms in front of her to help provide some modesty.

“listen, i think we get along well. and you’re really hot,” he explains drunkenly, “why don’t i help you get home?”

she feels icked out, trying to refrain from rolling her eyes.

“m’not interested, sorry. i have someone coming to pick me up.”

the man scoffs.

“you were plenty interested earlier when i bought you a drink,” taking a step closer to her, “c’mon. don’t be a tease.” he has a smirk on his face. she feels her heart begin to pound against her chest.

carmy was right, it was a mistake to come out. she tries to take a step away from him, blocked by the hard brick wall.

“seriously, i’m not interested,” she tries to sound assertive, “my boyfriend will be here any second so just leave me alone.” she hopes he can’t read through her lie.

“your boyfriend?” he asks, smirk turning into a grin, “you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? someone should fucking straighten you out.”

her heart drops to her stomach, and she feels sick all over again. she steps forward to shove past him, and he grabs her waist, slamming her back into the wall.

“don’t fucking touch me!” she yells, grabbing his wrists and digging her nails in. he doesn’t let go. tears begin to stream down her face, heart hammering against her ribcage. she sees headlights from down the street and prays that it’s carmen, continuing to struggle against the man.

the car speeds up to the curb and jerks to a stop, door flying open. she shuts her eyes tightly and digs her nails in hard enough to draw blood, giving a final attempt at trying to get his hands off of her.

the girl is suddenly released as the man is jerked backwards by his shoulder. her eyes snap open and graciously land on the person she’s been wanting to see the most.

everything happens so fast—watching in a haze as carmen practically decks the guy in the face, sending the stranger stumbling back, gripping a bloody nose.

“you muverfuckr!” he slurs, words muffled by a dripping hand, lunging forward again. carmy shuffles back, then throws another jab square in the face. the man falls backwards onto the ground, sitting on the concrete, looking entirely disoriented. the girl gasps, feeling partially sobered by the scene.

she watches as the stranger’s blood drips onto the pavement, then darts her gaze over to carmen. his eyes look crazed, jaw tightly locked. he begins to stalk towards the man, clenching his fists that were spotted with red.

the girl reaches out and grabs his arm. he turns to look at her and his features immediately soften, taking in her tear-soaked cheeks and swollen lips. without thinking, he grabs her arm and pulls her into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around her in a protective bear hug. she clings to his shirt, and cries. he kisses the top of her head.

he smells so good. smells so safe.

“s’okay. i got you,” he soothes, “you’re okay.” the man says this as a reassurance to himself as well, rubbing her back, feeling his throat tighten and eyes water a bit.

the stranger lay flat on his back now, clutching his bleeding nose, mumbling incoherently.

carmen pulls back from the embrace, but keeps an arm wrapped tightly around her, ushering her to the car. she stumbles a bit, holding onto him securely. she wishes the tears would stop, but they don’t. she feels so scared. so relieved. so fucking grateful.

he gets her into the car, shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. she doesn’t want to look at him when he gets in, so she hides her face in her hand, elbow leaning on the arm rest. he doesn’t say anything for the duration of the drive home either.

she feels embarrassed, tired, and still a little mad at carmy. the whole reason she had wanted to go out and meet guys in the first place was because of his stupid situationship with claire. it was like it made her go into defense mode.

they had been driving for about 5 minutes, before she feels a dull throbbing in her head, stomach growling, alcohol in her system making her crave greasy nasty salty food.

she raises her head from her hand, looking at carmen. his eyebrows were knit together tightly, jaw clenched. she leans her head against the headrest as she stares at him lovingly. she loves how protective he gets over her. how strong he is. how blindingly handsome.

but she’s still mad, of course.

he catches her gazing at him in his periphery. he looks over, features softening as he catches her eyes momentarily.

“what’s up?” he asks, voice low.

she just looks at him. her lip pouts a bit.

“you hungry?” comes his question, perfectly timed.

she allows a soft smile to grace her lips at the accuracy of his guess.

“mmhm,” she nods, “a burger sounds really good right now. and french fries.”

he lets out a quiet chuckle, nodding his head, glancing at her again.

“let’s get you a burger and french fries, then.”

he turns his signal on and moves to make a quick left, pulling into a drive-thru after a few minutes.

they sit in line waiting for the order to be cooked. she glances over at his face. she wants to kiss him, a little.

“d’yknow what the ultimate hangover food is?” she asks softly.

he turns to face her, eyebrows raised in question, a look of amusement on his face.

“an all american breakfast,” she murmurs with a smile.

“yeah?” he asks, “like…pancakes?”

she nods, biting her lip with a smile. he lets out a soft laugh at this.

“and bacon and eggs. and hash browns. fuck,” her eyes are closed, like she’s imagining it in front of her. this makes the man laugh a bit harder, hand coming to smooth over his face.

“good answer,” he tells her once he stops smiling as much.

“what’s yours?” she asks, gazing at him a bit longingly.

“my what?”

“your hangover cure food.”

“uh, probably…saltines?”.

the girl lets out a laugh.

“the alcohol upsets my stomach,” he admits.

she laughs harder, burying her face in her hands.

“you are so cute,” she amuses.

he fights the heat that rushes to his face when she says this, and they pull forward to the pick up window.

the girl takes her first bite into the greasy burger that carmen insists on paying for, and it makes her feel more human than she has all night.

carmy parks the car in his assigned lot, then gets out to assist his roommate out of the car. the food helped her feel much more grounded, but she still has to cling onto his arm to be able to walk straight through the building.

neither of them say anything. this lasts until they get back to their unit, and carmy locks the door behind them. he watches as the girl stumbles out of her shoes and crashes onto the couch. she throws an arm over her eyes and tries to push away the nausea that comes with laying down.

“thank you,” she murmurs into her arm after a moment.

“mhm,” he responds, “told you to call me when you needed a ride, though,” shrugging off his jacket.

“i did,” she argues.

“no, you called me… way after you needed one. and you stood outside waiting for me,” his tone grows harsher.

if she wasn’t so nauseous, she’d roll her eyes.

“i was trying to get away from all the guys that were trying to take me home,” she retorts. she means it to be teasing, but it’s clear he doesn’t take it that way by the peak she steals through her arms.

“y’know, you-,” he scoffs, “i’m glad you think it’s fuckin’ funny because i-fuck…i was worried about you” he throws his keys onto the table, feeling angry, feeling scared.

she throws her other arm over her face. her cheeks are hot with embarrassment. her throat suddenly feels tight at his words, like she’s going to cry again. she doesn’t say anything out of fear of her voice breaking.

carmy chides her name, stalking over to the couch. he stands over her, expectantly waiting for a response, jaw clenching with annoyance. he nudges her arm. she moves it, revealing her tired bloodshot eyes.

“can we not do this tonight?” she begs hoarsely, “m’so drunk.”

“you fucking scared me,” he exclaims, grabbing his hair, “what would’ve happened if i didn’t get there in time, huh?”

“i know,” she sobs, tears now freely flowing, hiding her face in her arms again.

his heart breaks a bit, watching her cry like that. but he feels so angry that she put herself at risk like that.

“you-” he stops. takes a deep breath to recenter. “you’re right. let’s not do this tonight.”

she peaks at him through her arms, feeling completely pathetic. she watches him turn on the small lamp by the couch. he drapes a throw blanket over her before turning to walk upstairs.

tears continue inexplicably trailing down her cheeks, as her deep breathing begins to lul her into sleep.

an hour passes.

she shifts to try and get comfy to no avail.

30 more minutes.

everything was so uncomfortable.

she sits up quickly and shoots off the couch, beelining for the stairs, desperate to get the crunchy makeup and scratchy clothes off.

she falls up the stairs in her sleepy scramble, knocking against the wall loudly. slowly stands up, holds onto the rail, and exhales before continuing to ascend much more carefully.

as she walks down the hallway, she unashamedly begins to strip out of her clothing, leaving a trail that leads to the bathroom, telling herself she would take care of it later. she feels sick and lethargic, needing a shower immediately.

the girl leaves the bathroom light off as she draws a cold shower and steps in right away, drenching herself in the frigid water. she tenses, letting out a sharp exhale, feeling almost immediately soothed.

it’s as if the water washes away everything bad from the night. she meditatively goes through her routine, cleaning herself. cleaning away everything that happened tonight. cleaning away the man who touched her on the dancefloor, outside of the club.

the shame and embarrassment that begins to seep in as the alcohol wears off doesn’t wash away as easily. she needs to apologize, she knows that.

the girl dries herself off and wraps her hair in a towel as she walks back to her room, feeling more of a pep in her step following the refreshing shower. she bends down to pick up the strung out clothing she left behind, feeling like she was going crazy because her underwear was nowhere to be found. it would just have to wait until tomorrow, she supposes.

she’s moisturized and laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. tossing and turning. taking a deep breath. softening her face, muscles. thinking of nice things.

drifting off. mind flashing back to the man grabbing her and slamming her against the brick wall. thinking of what would’ve happened had carmy not come to her rescue.

her eyes snap open. she sharply inhales and sits up, hanging her legs over the side of the bed. it was going to be impossible to get sleep like this, heart beating way too fast to try and relax.

she just wants to feel safe.

without a second thought, she stands and begins walking to carmy’s room.

she knows he’s pissed off at her. knows he’ll probably tell her to get out. even so, she’s so desperate to get some sleep. so desperate to ease the anxiety that had been festering inside of her all night.

his door is closed, and she hesitates for a moment before twisting the knob and slipping inside.

it’s dark—the curtains drawn when they usually aren’t. he lay shirtless on his side, facing away from the door, clutching a pillow in his arms.

the girl peels back his sheets and slowly slips into bed, resting her head on the soft pillow. she stays there for a moment before scooting closer and laying her face against his back. he’s so warm, and his skin smells safe. her eyes fall shut. she feels him shift.

carmen wakes up unexpectedly to the feeling of warmth behind him. he knows it’s her without having to look. when she had noisily stumbled upstairs and into the shower, he went to go check on her—almost knocked on the bathroom door, but refrained once he heard soft cries from within.

he feels her face nuzzle into his back, and he reaches his arm back behind him, wanting to feel where she lay. he touches her hip.

“hi,” she greets softly.

“hey,” he returns, voice raspy, “y’can’t sleep?”

she scoots closer to him, hand splaying over his back.

“just a little… freaked out still…” she whispers. her tone wobbles.

he shifts at this, and turns around to face her silently. in the low light she can make out the worried furrow of his brows.

she feels guilty for being the subject of his worry.

“i’m sorry,” the girl confesses, biting back tears.

carmen’s brows crease further at her apology, immediately wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. she tucks her face into his neck, shutting her eyes tightly, smelling his skin.

“y’got nothing to be sorry for,” he plants a kiss atop her head, “wasn’t your fault.”

“it was my fault,” her voice breaks, “should’ve listened to you,” her arms come around his neck, and she presses her body flush with his.

“it wasn’t,” he asserts, “that guy was a fuckin’ creep.” his tone is hushed. his arms wrap around her as if he’s scared of losing her.

“are you still mad at me?” she asks. her breath tickles his neck.

“i wasn’t mad,” he admits, “just scared.”

“me too,” matching his hushed tone. “thank you carm,” she whispers, pressing a kiss below his ear, “feel so safe with you.” she shuffles closer, pelvis pressing against his.

“you are,” he buries his nose in her hair, “always.” hiking her leg over his hip to bring her closer.

the girl kisses his neck again. and again. pulls him in closer. his smell is completely addicting, and with the angle of her leg she can feel his erection growing against her core. she hopes he can’t feel the wetness that begins to form beneath her shorts.

his big palm spreads over her ass and squeezes, desperate to hold every inch of her.

the girl deeply exhales, bothered by how easily he’s able to rouse her.

the man harshly exhales at the repeated feeling of her bites and licks and kisses, holding onto her with an urgent desperation. trying to wrap around her as if he were keeping her from the world.

the room becomes hot, and the two shuffle the duvet off.

carmen calls her name, trying to break her attention. he wants to apologize. wants to confess his shortcomings. wants to look in her big eyes and tell her he’s not enough and never will be. but she ignores his beckon and continues enthusiastically biting and sucking and kissing, hand pressing against his chest.

he forces his eyes to stay open, weight of his bottled apology heavy on his tongue.

“hey,” he tries again, voice strained from the pleasure.

“can you put it in?” she breathes into his neck.

“fuck,” he groans, surprised by her forward request, feeling himself pulse against her wetness.

“please,” she whines, hiking her leg further up onto his hip, trailing her kisses along his jaw, up to his cheek.

he squeezes her ass again, fingers slipping under the fabric of her tiny shorts. her skin was so soft. so hot with arousal.

“let me play with you,” he strains, “get you ready f’me.”

the girl makes a sound of protest, kissing his face more, hand coming to his neck.

“m’ready,” she whispers earnestly “wanna feel you so bad,” another kiss, “please, carm.”

he lets out a strained breath and removes his hand from her ass, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his erection. she moves her thigh higher up his hip, and carmen slips his fingers beneath the fabric covering her core, hastily pulling it to the side.

“yeah,” she exhales desperately, edge of her lips touching his, trying to watch him press his cock into her opening.

carmen pushes forward, sinking into her tightness. he lets out a groan at the way her wet heat engulfs him. the girl releases a sound of appreciation, her nails indenting the skin of his shoulder.

he takes a deep breath and begins slowly rocking his hips, turning his face to catch her lips in a hungry kiss. he greedily swallows her sweet noises, catching the edge of her shirt and bunching it up over her chest, exposing her breasts.

“please,” she breaks the kiss to plead, not really even knowing what she was asking for.

“i know, baby” he groans in between kisses, “gonna take care of you.” rolling his hips, hiking her leg further up his hip to bury himself to the hilt.

she wants to cry at how good it feels, eyes scrunched shut and mouth falling open in pleasure, releasing her first breathy moan.

carmy swears he could cum at the sound of it, hand grabbing her ass again, pulling her impossibly closer. his forehead comes to hers and he begins slowly thrusting into her, completely drunk off of her. her smell, her wetness, her whimpers.

“y’so fuckin’ cute,” he growls, “can’t get enough of you.” his admission sends a fluttering sensation throughout her chest, arching further into his touch, beginning to hungrily rock her hips to try and match his thrusts.

the man grabs her hip, holding her still.

“slow down,” he commands softly, catching her lips in a deep kiss, continuing to gently thrust into her.

she complies, savoring the sweet, lazy rocking motion as he holds her tightly. it feels far more intimate than what she’s ever experienced with him, even though the two weren’t even fully naked. it was needy and frenetic, yet slow and gentle.

carmen buries himself deeper, beginning to thrust up into her at an angle. he kisses her with frenzy, tongue swirling around hers, swallowing each and every noise she makes. the room grows incredibly hot, their skin sticky, each trying to apologize to the other using their bodies.

carmy snaps his hips forward, and the girl releases from his lips with a loud cry. her nails dig into his shoulder. it’s so good she feels like crying again.

“y’such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” he growls, “love how you feel, y’know that?”

her droopy eyes meet his. she loves the way it sounds from his mouth. loves everything he does.

“i’m all yours carm,” she gasps, savoring the deep, satiating feeling of his thick cock.

“yeah?” he asks breathily, “all mine?” grabbing her ass, pulling her in time with his thrusts.

“y-yeah,” she cries, eyes tightly shut, “yours. i love-ah,” she’s interrupted by a punctuated thrust, losing her words, head falling back, breathing heavily. he feels so good.

“what d’you love?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss her exposed neck, “huh?”

“love y-how you make me feel,” she cries.

his chest flutters. he bites and kisses the skin of her neck. he wishes she would’ve said something different.

“what else, hm?” a kiss, thrusts speeding up, “what else d’you love?”

“love-fuck, right there,” she whimpers, “i love-ah,” trailing off as if she can’t even think straight.

carmy smiles into her neck, giving her skin a final bruise before pulling away to catch her lips.

“tell me,” he growls, grabbing the side of her thigh and continuing to upwards.

her eyes fill with tears. she’s scared to say it.

“i-,” an gasp, “i love you, carm.” she catches his gaze as she says it, and watches how his expression softens. how deeply he looks at her. the man dives into her lips again, kissing her with a ferocity she had yet to ever receive, groaning into her mouth.

“fuckin’ made for me,” he growls in between kisses, “love everything about you,” pulling her leg further up, “perfect fuckin’ girl.”

he rolls over her and lifts her hips up, continuing to thrust into her.

the girl wraps her legs around his back accommodatingly, dizzy from his words and the pleasure. she slips her fingers down to circle her swollen clit, feeling as if she teters right on the edge of climax, overcome with a white hot pleasure.

“love you,” she cries, nails scratching down his back, “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou m’gonna cum” she babbles. he smiles down at her, almost overwhelmed by a feral need to claim her.

the man deliberates throwing caution to the wind and cumming inside of her. he knows she wouldn’t mind. he rationalizes the logistics of making her a mom in his frenetic state, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her wet eyes, her open mouth. he decides he’s in love with her. decides he wants her to be his forever. he watches her cum. watches her eyes roll back and her body start shaking. listens to the sweet harmonic moans that spill from her lips.

“there y’go,” he coaxes, “such a good girl,” kissing her swollen lips, “fuckin’ in love with you,” heightening the pace of his thrusts, feeling himself approach the brink of orgasm. he seriously considers cumming inside of her, telling himself he would if she asked. he looks at the girl for confirmation, but she’s too far gone. he begrudgingly pulls out, shooting thick ropes of cum onto her stomach with a groan, missing her warmth as soon as he leaves.

carmy rolls off of her, grabbing her face and pressing a firm kiss onto her cheek, collapsing on the bed for a moment. he feels spent.

the girl pants, trying to catch her breath. carmen nuzzles into her neck, wrapping around her tightly, kissing her tenderly. they bask in the afterglow, cherishing the presence of each other, an encompassing silence following the heavy words exchanged.

she’s the first to speak. well, complain.

“there’s….cum all over my stomach.” she rasps. he smiles into her neck.

“shower?”

quiet, for a moment.

“i can’t move.”

he kisses her bruised skin with a lazy smirk and sits up to grab her a washcloth.

when the girl wakes up alone the next morning, her heart drops a bit, finding the bed next to her empty once again. she shuts her eyes immediately, hoping to be swept away by sleep so she could postpone the disappointment.

that is, until she hears noises from the kitchen downstairs. and smells the bacon.

the girl groggily pushes herself up out of bed, stalking down the hallway. she gets halfway to the stairs before realizing she’s completely naked, stopping in her tracks, turning to carmy’s open door, eyes falling on a t-shirt on the ground. she quickly grabs it and slips it over her head, then continues to curiously make her way downstairs. soft music comes from the speaker in the kitchen, and she slowly descends the stairs to find carmy deftly working over the stove. the whole house smells incredible.

she slips behind him to get to the coffee pot, sliding her hand along his back as she passes.

the man turns his head.

“hey,” he watches as she retrieves a mug from the cabinet, graciously taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt.

“good morning,” she smiles, “smells so good in here.”

as she stretches to get the mug, the hem of the shirt lifts ever so slightly over the curve of her ass. he clears his throat.

“nice shirt,” carmy says, turning back to tend to the bacon.

she lets out a soft giggle, pouring her coffee.

“yeah?” taking a sip and leaning against the counter, “figured it would be better than coming down naked.”

his brain stutters for a moment. he turns to catch the smirk on her face.

“i, uh…. i dunno about that,” he responds, small smile on his face. she shoves his arm playfully and he breaks into a grin.

“no work this morning?” she asks, grateful for the unusual saturday morning presence.

“no, i, uh…m’taking a personal day,” he replies, turning the heat of the stove off, “had some stuff i needed to get done.”

“good,” she replies with a nod, “you deserve a day off. i didn’t take you for much of a breakfast guy, though” she comments, tilting her head slightly.

“i’m not, really,” he plates the bacon over a paper towel, “but i, uh…thought some all american might help with your hangover.”

she feels a pang in her chest, eyes glancing over the assortment of pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and bacon. everything she had told him last night.

“carm,” she whines, “that is so kind. you didn’t have to all of this for me.”

the food looked delectable, plated beautifully and piping hot.

“i wanted to.” he begins to pick up the plates.

she puts her coffee down and helps him set the table.

when she takes the first bite of her bacon and eggs she practically moans at the taste.

“fuck,” she locks eyes with him.

“yeah?” he watches her with amusement.

“yeah,” she breathes, nodding, “that’s…wow.”

he can’t help but grin, hand coming to rub over his face.

“good?”

“yeah.” she nods, “really fucking good.”

he feels his skin heat at the way she says it, having no idea why watching her enjoy his food was so deeply satisfying (and maybe just a little arousing).

“try the pancakes,” he tells her, pushing the syrup closer to her. she nods enthusiastically, slathering the pancakes the maple syrup and taking a big bite.

the girl groans, and her head falls into her hand, savoring the taste. she doesn’t think she’s ever had pancakes so good.

“i could kiss you right now,” she looks back up at him. he lets out a breath of amusement and his cheeks warm with her praise.

“i’m glad you like it.”

“no, seriously, i’m…going to kiss you.” she tells him, putting a hand on the table and leaning over it. she grabs his shirt and pulls him in, kissing him firmly.

the man lets out a soft groan of surprise, enthusiastically reciprocating. she tastes like maple syrup.

when the girl pulls back, he grabs her face and pulls her back in, wanting another sweet taste. it’s better than any pancakes he’s ever made.

carmen loosens his grip on her face and she slowly pulls away, pressing a last kiss to his lips before sitting back down. she gives him a mischievous smile and continues eating her breakfast.

“go sit down,” she tells him, taking the pan from him, “you already cooked, let me clean up.”

“we can do it together,” he compromises, “it’ll be faster.”

she shakes her head, making a pile of dishes in the sink and turning on the hot water.

“no. go sit down and relax,” she demands, beginning to scrub.

she feels arms wrap around her waist, feels lips on her neck.

“so bossy,” he chides in between kisses, pressing his hips against her backside. she lets out a slow breath, leaning into his touch. her eyes flutter as she feels his hand creep under her shirt, splaying over her stomach. she’s not wearing anything besides his oversized shirt, and her skin suddenly feels hot from his touch. she arches into him slightly, and he bites her neck.

it feels very domestic, fighting over who would clean up the kitchen. it feels domestic wearing his shirt and being pressed up against the counter by him, skin littered with his bruises, lips intertwined with his name.

carmy begins to lift the borrowed shirt up, kisses trailing up to her ear, hand coming to squeeze her breast.

the girl releases a soft noise, completely distracted by her task of washing dishes. her head falls back against his shoulder, and she leans into his touch.

carmen thinks of telling her to strip the shirt off. thinks of hoisting her up onto the counter and eating her out until she cums. touching her until she cries.

he pushes the shirt up further.

knock knock knock

they both startle and look to the front door. carmen checks the time, and his heart drops a bit.

he pulls away from the girl and runs a hand through his curls.

“who is it?” she asks him, observing his look of stress.

“it’s, uh….fuck. just wait right here, okay?” his hands fall from his hips and he stalks to the closet by the front door, pulling out a scarf she doesn’t recognize.

he opens the door halfway, and she hears a familiar woman’s voice greeting him.

her face gets hot. her chest feels tight.

“claire,” he greets quietly, thrusting the scarf forward, “here.”

“ugh, thank you, carmy. i’m so forgetful sometimes.”

“no problem. i should, uh-”

“it smells good in there,” claire comments, peaking in.

carmen steps back, eyes darting over to his roommate. she stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the counter, staring at him.

“i’m uh…cooking breakfast,” he turns back to claire, “so i should probably get back to that. i’ll see yo-”

“-i was thinking we could talk?” she cuts him off, “can i come in?”

“i don’t know if that’s…,” carmen hesitates. he glances to his roommate to find her walking behind him towards the stairs.

claire’s eyes follow the girl, taking in her attire. carmy watches her expression slightly falter.

his roommate stalks up the stairs. was walking behind him in plain sight a little petty? maybe. but she’s sick of carmy never saying exactly what he means. she undoes the hair tie holding together her messy updo, walking to her room.

she quickly grabs a change of clothes and rushes into to the bathroom to shower, feeling the overwhelming need to leave the apartment.

the front door slams shut, and she hears his steps ascend the stairs.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine

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zaczenemiji · 3 months

Text

Curtain Calls and Curveballs I

Kenji Sato x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: In your high school years, you and Kenji Sato are fierce rivals, constantly competing for top academic honors and excelling in your respective extracurriculars. Little did you know, you rivalry would take an unexpected turn.

Word Count: 1,836

Genre/Warning: Coming of Age, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn

Author’s Note: A lot of you have been requesting for an enemies to lover themed fanfic so here’s a two-part one made for y’all <3

MASTERLIST

“Anyone can pretend to be someone else.”

“Well, it doesn’t take much brainpower to throw a ball.”

How could you forget the feud that started it all? Your spot as a top-ranking student back in high school was suddenly disturbed by the arrival of a certain Japanese student.

You didn’t mind it at first, only perceiving it as a challenge that would lead to the betterment of yourself. You know, kinda like what they say—smooth seas never made a skilled sailor thing.

But little did the teen you know that Kenji Sato would become a force of a tsunami in your life.

The little frowns when one scored higher than the other on quizzes became a competition that was the backbone of your interactions—the core aspect of your enmity.

The two of you were naturally gifted students with too much competitive spirits. Your performances were closely monitored by peers and teachers who eagerly anticipated the next round of test scores to see who would come out on top.

Needless to say, your little rivalry became a show that everyone liked to watch—a TV drama that keeps them glued on the couch, and a baseball game that keeps them at the edge of their seats.

What started as frowns became bickers and a constant exchange of provocative teasing. A day at school wouldn’t be complete without exchanging sarcastic remarks with one another.

“Better not mess this up, (y/n). Wouldn’t want to lose those precious extra points,” Kenji said in one of your chemistry labs.

You rolled your eyes as you set up your titration apparatus. “Don’t worry about me, Kenji,” you replied. “Just make sure you know the difference between an acid and a base.”

Despite the academic rivalries, your favorite thing to one each other up on despite being on totally different sides of the scale, is your clubs.

With Kenji being the star of the baseball team and you the leading actress of the drama club, the two of you were set to speak at the pep rally to represent your respective team and club.

“And now, let's hear from our star pitcher, Kenji Sato!”

Kenji steps up to the microphone, flashing a confident smile. "Thanks, Mr. Principal,” he said. “Our team has been working hard, and we're ready to bring home another championship. Let's hear it for the baseball team!”

The crowd roared with approval. Sports enthusiasts loved Kenji and he is definitely the face of sports in your school. That’s one thing you couldn’t argue about. You’ve been trying to name a player better than him at school but unfortunately, there was none.

Kenji stepped back and the principal proceeded to introduce you, "Next, we have our leading actress, (y/n) (l/n), to tell us about the upcoming play."

You strode to the microphone, poised and charismatic. "Thank you, Mr. Principal,” you started. “This year's play, 'Romeo and Juliet, is a labor of love for the drama club. We've poured our hearts into it, and we hope you'll all come to see it.”

“Break a leg to the baseball team, and we hope to see some of you at the theater!" You added.

The crowd cheers again, though with less intensity than for Kenji. Kenji leaned over when you stepped back beside him.

“Break a leg, huh?” He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “Isn’t that a bit risky for an actress?”

“It’s tradition,” you smirked. “Besides, I'd like to see you try and memorize Shakespeare."

Kenji laughed, "Maybe next time. For now, I'll stick to throwing strikes."

A week after the pep rally came Kenji’s game.

He winded up and delivered a fastball that struck out the batter, securing the win for his team. The crowd erupted in applause, chanting his name.

On his way to the locker room, he comes across you. He saw you in the bleachers earlier, watching with a critical eye.

“Enjoyed the show, (y/n)?” He asked, smirking.

“It was fine, I guess,” you said, rolling your eyes. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

Kenji chuckled, “Don't worry, I'll save a seat for you at the next game.”

"I'd rather spend my time watching paint dry,” you said, crossing your arms. “Good luck with that, though."

A few days after the game came the premiere of the school's production. Every time the curtains rose, you stopped out not as (y/n) but as the character whom you portrayed—Juliet.

After the final act, the audience gave a standing ovation. You took a bow, eyes scanning the crowd. At the back, you spotted Kenji clapping politely.

You basked in the praises of the director and your friends for the job you did well. As you exit the stage, you find Kenji waiting in the wings. “Not bad,” he said, raising his brows. “For a drama nerd.”

You smirked in return. “Glad you could tear yourself away from the baseball field to appreciate some real talent."

"I figured I'd see what all the fuss was about,” he chuckled. “You didn't disappoint."

"Is that a compliment, Sato?” You asked, eyes narrowing playfully. “From you?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Kenji shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it.”

At home, after the drama club’s play, Kenji told his mom about you. He told her about how good you actually were at acting. He planned on leaving mid-performance but you kept him glued to the spot he was watching from. He may or may not have ditched his baseball training that day.

“You seem to know her well,” Kenji’s mom commented to which he retaliated with “To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy.”

On the other hand, Kenji’s compliment played rent-free in your head. It overshadowed the director’s and the others’ compliments like they didn’t matter.

This situation went on for years in the span of time you spent in high school. Classmates and friends became used to the everyday sarcastic remarks and insults you hurled at each other.

What they didn’t know were the subliminal messages in every interaction.

They didn’t know about how Kenji often finds himself trying to perform exceptionally well whenever he knows you are watching. He’d throw an extra-fast pitch or make a particularly insightful comment in class, hoping to catch your attention.

They didn’t know that his playful teasing was a way to keep the banter alive to be able to engage with you regularly. They didn’t know that in a crowd of people, Kenji would always look for you. He watches your reactions to see if you’re impressed.

They didn’t know that you genuinely attended Kenji’s baseball games to see him do well. You’ll clap and cheer, albeit more reservedly than the die-hard fans, keeping your enthusiasm in check.

They didn’t know how you defend him from others, from those who would speak badly of him regardless of what he did. They didn’t know how you took note of his class attendance and lent him notes from classes he missed due to training.

The two of you did all these while outwardly maintaining the rivalry. Then one day, before you two knew it, graduation season was right around the corner.

One bright and sunny afternoon in the school gym, a large banner hung above reading "Graduation Ball Partner Reveal." Students crowd around a bulletin board, excitedly searching for their assigned partners.

This was one of the school’s antics to add some excitement to the graduation ball by randomly pairing students as dance partners. You heard other girls overtly expressing their wishes to be paired with Kenji.

With a grin, your friend turned to you, “Who do you hope to get, (y/n)?”

"Anyone who can at least manage to keep up on the dance floor,” you shrugged.

"I heard they really mixed things up this year. Could be anyone!" Another friend said.

When the crowd began to disperse, you and your friends made your way to the bulletin board. Scanning the list, your eyes widened as you saw your name next to Kenji’s.

“No way,” you muttered. “This has to be a mistake.” Just as you were processing this revelation, you heard a familiar voice behind you, "Looks like we're stuck with each other, (y/n)."

You turned to see Kenji standing there, a mix of amusement and surprise on his face. “Of all people, it had to be you,” you said crossing your arms.

“It’s not like I rigged the draw,” Kenji chuckled. “Why would I wanna be paired with you?” He asked like he didn’t want it.

As the night of the graduation ball drew nearer, the two of you agreed to be truces for one night.

A week later, there in the same gym, stood you at the edge of the dance floor. That night, the gym was a glittering wonderland, with twinkling fairy lights and elegant decorations that turned the mundane space into a ballroom fit for a fairytale.

“You look amazing, (y/n),” your friend nudged you. “Kenji's going to be blown away."

Scoffing, you replied, “If he even shows up.”

Just as you finished speaking, Kenji appeared, looking dapper in a sharp suit. He spotted you and made his way over, a confident smile on his face.

“Hey, (y/n),” he said. “You look… wow.”

You felt warmth rush to your cheeks as your heart began beating faster. All the earlier pettiness gone the moment you saw him.

"You clean up pretty well yourself, Sato,” you replied, barely a whisper.

Kenji extended his hand, a playful glint in his eyes. "Shall we?" He asked.

Taking his hand, you let him lead you onto the dance floor where you two fell into step, finding a rhythm despite the initial awkwardness.

“So, truce for tonight, right?” Kenji asked. You nodded, smiling, “Only for tonight.”

You danced in silence for a few moments, the reality of the situation sinking in. “I never thought we’d end up here dancing,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Neither did I,” you replied. “But maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You mean you’re actually enjoying my company?” Kenji chucked.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Don’t get used to it.”

As the dance continued, the tension between you two began to melt away. You two talked about your plans after graduation and for the first time, you saw each other as two people with dreams and aspirations; not as an obstacle in the way.

“I want to go pro. In baseball,” Kenji said. “I've got scouts interested, and I think I have a real shot."

Your eyes widened slightly. "A professional baseball player, huh?” You replied. “I can see that.”

“Thanks,” Kenji grinned. "It's been my dream since I was a kid. What about you? What's next for you after we toss the caps?”

"I want to be an actress,” you answered. “I've been accepted into a drama program, and I'm going to chase that dream as far as it takes me."

That being said, you two will most likely be going to separate schools in college. Or so you thought.

PART TWO

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@hismistresss @sweetangle8 @aerivina

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman #ultraman: rising #fanfiction #enemies to lovers #slow burn #eventual romance #coming of age

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bleedingoptimism · 1 year

Text

You Are Mine part 1

When Eddie decided to come out he thought it’d be funny to do so with a music video, so he wrote a song and presented it to the band. The boys loved it and the song was declared the first one of their next album, the third one.

And then it was time to shoot the video.

They hire their personal friend and favorite director, Argyle. Just Argyle, like Cher.

Between him and Argyle they come up with a cool script. The band is going to act in it, they just need two extras, so they hold auditions for a couple in their twenties.

On the day of the auditions, Argyle tells them the interviews are mostly for show, the band can pick whoever they feel the most comfortable with, and the boys tell Eddie he should pick since it’s his song.

The five of them sit at a long table like it’s fucking American Idol or something and just stare at the couples waiting in line through a one-side glass mirror whispering among themselves and watching amused as the couples start getting progressively nervous.

There’s a couple that immediately grabs Eddie's attention when he does a pass-over, a pretty tall dirty blonde and a brunette with big soft-looking hair.

The guy is absolutely gorgeous, with big kind eyes, a straight cute nose, a square jaw, big shoulders, a small waist, and tan skin that seems to be covered in beauty marks.

He just strikes Eddie as someone that would make Michelangelo cry with his inability to capture his perfection.

‘Oh, that’s good. I should write that.’ He thinks.

He and the girl are talking in hush tones and Eddie watches as she fixes his hair while he jabbers nervously and then, evidently says something that makes her angry because she pokes him in the ribs. The guy giggles cutely and loudly enough to carry over to their room and then blushes furiously when heads turn toward them, hiding behind his friend. The woman in question snorts and chuckles as he chastises her.

Eddie stands up, crouches behind Argyle’s chair, and tells him, “I want that one.”

“What?” he answers, so Eddie points at the couple, “I want him.”

Argyle looks at them considering and clicks his tongue and Eddie insists, “Please Argy, please, I love him, I want him, I want that one, pleaseee”

“Eddie, we need to at least consider the rest of them. This is my job we are talking about here. Please, take it seriously” Argyle says in a calm voice and Eddie deflates,

“Dude...I’m sorry I-”

“Nah man, I’m kidding!” Argyle cuts him off, “Couple number four! Please step forward!” he yells into a mike.

The blonde and the brunette look at each other and walk in nervously as Eddie goes back to his seat at the end of the table and Argyle does a small flourishing move with his hand inviting them to introduce themselves.

“Hi! My name is Robin, and this is Steve, pleased to meet you!” The girl says smiling kindly at them. She nudges Steve on the side and he does a little finger wave at them.

Eddie has to bite his lip not to smile too much because they are really fucking cute.

Argyle returns the wave enthusiastically, because nothing ever faces him, and looks at the list he has in his hands, “Any experience acting Robin and Steve?”

Robin says yes, something about drama club in high school and Steve just shrugs which amused Eddie to no end, and frankly makes him really curious, for all intent and purposes, Steve doesn’t seem to be interested in the job.

“How did you find out about this job?” Jeff asks them, and Gareth nods like he was just about to ask the same thing.

“A friend of ours told us about it?” Robin answers “He’s a photographer but I don't want to drop names, especially in case we embarrass ourselves,” she says jokingly and looks relieved when she gets a couple of chuckles from Argyle and the band.

“And you were interested because…?” Frank inquires.

Robin starts saying some carefully prepared speech about learning experiences but is interrupted by Steve saying, “We needed the money”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Robin suddenly turns to him completely red in the face.

“What? You told me to be myself!” Steve tells her frowning.

“This is exactly why I always talk in interviews”

“What does that mean?”

“You suck at this Steve! Just as much as you suck at-”

Gareth clears his throat loudly making them stop and look at him sheepishly, “So tell us, do you know the band? Are you fans?”

Eddie takes a moment to look at his bandmates and to his relief they all look as amused as he feels, especially Argyle. The couple of newbies is clearly a mess but in an endearing kind of way.

“Well…” Robin starts but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Never heard of it,” Steve says looking apologetic.

“Wait, Really?” Robin asks him, once more ignoring the director and the band, “They are like, Mike’s favorite band, man! You never heard of Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh well,” Steve shrugs, “I mostly tune out when Mike is talking so…”

Robin snorts and is about to reply but Argyle raises his hand and they both look at him, flinching a little when they realize they had started talking among themselves again.

“Ok.” Argyle tells them clapping once, “Unfortunately for me, I love your energy my dudes, but I’m going to get serious for a second here: I need you two to be professional ok? We have a budget and a schedule and only three days to shoot and I can’t hire you and find out in the middle of the shoot that you are not okay with making out with someone-”

Robin visibly takes a step back and Steve snorts, “Yeah no, I’m not making out with my sister.”

Eddie, who was wondering what kind of relationship they had, does a little happy dance in his head at that.

“No, I meant one of the members of the band” Argyle answers amused.

Robin takes another step back and actually looks a little disgusted and Eddie tries not to find it offensive, “Me?” she asks unsure.

“No,” Frank answers and points at Steve, “Him.”

Surprisingly, they both relax at that, “Oh!” They exclaim in unison and it’s kind of creepy but again, in an endearing kind of way.

And then Steve looks at them one by one, he’s unmistakably and unashamedly checking them all out and Eddie swears his eyes linger on him the most before he smirks and says, “I’m okay with that”

Eddie immediately pushes the contract laying on the table toward Frank, who pushes it to Gareth, who pushes it to Jeff, who pushes it to Argyle and gives him a pen.

Argyle laughs loudly and shakes the sheet of paper, “Well shit, I guess you are hired.”

“We are?!”

He stands up and shakes their hands, hands them the contract and another paper, “This is the script, not that it has any dialogue but just in case you have any questions.”

They push their heads together and read the script at the same time.

The story is about the band being on tour. Robin and Steve would play as their roadies and the video is supposed to show them in concert, traveling, working, and hanging out. The whole video hints that Eddie is sneaking out with one of them and it ends with the band plus Robin opening a curtain on the tour bus to find Eddie and Steve making out.

The song is called You Are Mine.

When they are done reading, Steve smiles and says “Cute”

And Robin asks, “So which one of you is Eddie?”

Eddie lifts his hand lazily and winks at them.

And Steve, still holding the script, lifts it enough to cover his face but Eddie can still see the tip of his ears as they turn bright red.

‘Oh, he’s gonna eat him alive.’

to be continued

part 1: is this

part 2: ♫

part 3: ♫

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito?

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #corroded coffin #omg another rockstar eddie au? mimimimi

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sunny44 · 8 months

Text

The exes club

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex!reader, ex wags x fem!reader

Warnings: ex wags.

Summary: Where all the ex wags are best friends.

Yourusername instagram post

Liked by @maxverstappen, @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna and other 174829

Yourusername the exes club is reunited again

Ps: for sure the best part of ours relationship

Tagged: @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna

Isahernáez I miss this so much

Yourusername and I missed you

Luisinhaoliveira love you babes

Yourusername love you more girlfriend

Maxverstappen I can see you’re having fun

Liked by Yourusername

Love4wags I love that the best wags are bestfriends

Mv33fan I miss y/n and Max together

User81 I hate the fact that y/n explicitly say that she doesn’t like the current wag

F1lovelywags

Model Y/n Y/L/N talking about the comments of her not liking the new wags.

Y/n was Max Verstappen's girlfriend until a few months ago when they decided to end their relationship.

She and the other ex-WAGs were often seen together in the paddock during race weekends, emphasizing that they were and still are best friends.

Fans are now commenting on her latest post, suggesting that she dislikes the new WAGs just because she shared that she and the other exes were out having fun.

Yourusername instagram stories

“It’s race weekend”

I was invited to attend the weekend in Monza.

It had been a while since I attended any races; it lost its appeal after Max and I broke up. We decided it was for the best, as my modeling career consumed all my time, just like his racing career did to him.

We no longer had time for each other, and it was driving us apart. So, the best decision for both of us was to take a break, which ultimately led to the end.

But here I was again, at a race, hoping everything would go well without any stress.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N." I turned around to see someone from SKY Sports. "Could you give a brief interview?"

"Of course," I agreed, controlling to not roll my eyes as giving interviews was the last thing I wanted to do today.

"We saw your statement in your latest YouTube video regarding the comments on your posts. Do you have anything to declare?"

"As I said in the video, I'm not obligated to like anyone, even if that's what fans think. I don't personally know any of the girls, so the comments are unfounded, defamatory, and malicious," I said, looking into the camera. "I've always been friends with the other girls, and our friendship might have started here due to our ex-boyfriends working in the same field. But our friendship goes beyond that, so the fact that these so-called fans are bothered by something so trivial truly amazes me. Once again, I have nothing against anyone, so I ask you to stop trying to portray me as the villain just because you don't like me."

"Very well, thank you Y/n, for your words," I agreed and left.

I continued walking, stopped for a coffee, and on my way back, Daniel waved at me.

"Y/n, long time no see."

"Hi, Dani," I hugged him. "How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Good too, just the usual dramas."

"I saw; people don't have much sense.”

"Don't even talk about it. I don't know where people get this rivalry. It's not like I said anything about them in the post."

"Don't worry about it. Fans are just jealous because all of you dated who they wanted. The girls are getting hate now for dating them."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I sighed. "It's terrible for all of us. Max and I aren't even dating anymore, and people still hassle me."

"I can imagine. Heidi sometimes shows me some comments, and they're pretty nasty."

"Well, I need to go, but good luck in the race," I waved. Passing in front of the Red Bull garage, I was pulled inside, and when I saw, I was in Max's driver's room. "What the hell is this?"

"I wanted to see you," he said simply.

"And did you need to pull me in like you were kidnapping me?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you and I wanted as few people as possible to see."

"Why? Are you ashamed?"

"Of course not." He stared at me. "How are you?"

"Look, you didn't pull me in here to ask how I am, and I know it was your idea to invite me, even though you tried really hard to make it seem like it wasn't," I said, and he looked at the floor. "So tell me, why so much effort to bring me here?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you."

"You could have called me or sent a message."

"I know, but I needed to say this in person," I agreed and sat on his bed.

"All right, I'm listening."

"I wanted to apologize for my fans. I heard about what happened with your last post, and I didn’t wanted you to go through all this because of me."

"It's not your fault."

"Are you sure? The fans are mine."

"It doesn't matter; they're not your real fans if they're such nasty people," he agreed. "It's okay."

Max sighed, briefly averting his gaze before fixing it back on mine.

"Y/n, I need to be honest about the other reason I brought you here," I nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I still love you, more than I can admit. Seeing you dealing with all this pressure and drama made me realize that, even with everything that happened between us, I can't just let you go. Not again."

My heart raced, and a smile formed on my face.

"Max, I feel the same way. I think, deep down, we never stopped loving each other. Maybe it's time to give what we had a second chance."

He smiled back, sincerity reflected in his eyes.

"Y/n, I just want to do this the right way, without rushing, and make sure we're both ready." I nodded, feeling a profound sense of relief.

"I'm willing to give it a try, Max. After all, what do we have to lose?"

And in the end, I guess I put an end to the exes club.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram stories

“Ops, I guess the exes club is over for me”

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idlyfretting · 2 years

Text

I want everything we missed between S3 and S4. I want all of it.

I want the kids starting high school and being totally overwhelmed by normal shit when they’ve only just gotten used to weird alternate dimension shit.

I want Robin starting senior year and all of her friends from band and soccer and drama club and everything else being like “who the fuck is this person and what did they do with Robin????” because she comes back from summer break and is just not right.

I want Steve baffling Keith because he’s definitely flirting with every girl over the age of eighteen who walks into the store, but he’s not being a douchebag? He’s not being mean to Keith, like at all? He’s not being all buddy buddy with him obviously, because that would be fucking weird, but he’s just sort of being normal? Like a normal flirty good-looking former jock who knows how to talk to people? (And Keith definitely thinks he’s been flirting with every hot adult person who comes into the store, but it’s Steve fucking Harrington so that can’t be right????)

I want Nancy running that newspaper like it’s the goddamn New York Times and nobody even thinks to question her about anything because who the hell is gonna question Nancy Wheeler? She’s scary.

I want Eddie seeing these three freshies walk into the cafeteria with what he thinks is fear, but after corralling them and inviting them to Hellfire and making them eat lunch with him and the other members every day, realizes it’s not actually fear, it’s just sensory overload. They’re not actually afraid of the popular kids or the jocks or the teachers or the bullies, they’re just baffled. Almost like they didn’t realize it should be an issue at all?

And they start coming to Hellfire meetings and these kids are fantastic. Their characters are perfect additions to the group and the campaign he started at the beginning of the year is gonna be fucking aces because their group is so well rounded now.

And sometimes Lucas bring his girlfriend Max Mayfield to the sessions, which isn’t so bad because she mostly just sits in the corner doing her homework or listening to music. But sometimes she does listen in, and scoffs at certain plot points in the story, or laughs at parts that definitely aren’t supposed to be funny.

And Robin Buckley shows up a couple times as well, mostly doing the same as Max, but one time she watched them play and it was nerve-wracking as hell having someone essentially stalking around them, giving whispered comments to the three freshmen that either resulted it grim nods or obnoxious laughter. Which, what the fuck, how does she know these kids???? (Kids who Eddie definitely thinks are half feral, but absolutely loves them anyway.)

But then one day late in October, the session runs late, and it’s just the Hellfire boys this time, and it’s a FANTASTIC boss fight (not the final one, but still a big damn deal), and everyone is tired but riding high on an epic win, and they all file out of the school into the cold parking lot. And just a couple spaces away from Eddie’s van is Steve fucking Harrington’s stupid maroon beemer.

And Harrington is sitting on the trunk of it, leaning against the back windshield, casual as anything, with Robin fucking Buckley sitting right next to him.

Leaning against him. Practically sitting in his goddamn lap.

She’s got a book propped open on her knees, combat boots up on the trunk, and she’s resting her head on his chest.

Harrington’s laying all the way back, stupid douchey sunglasses on, either staring at the sky or just full on sleeping.

They’ve both got matching green vests on.

A shout from one of the kids has them perking up to look in their direction. Robin rolls her eyes and marks her place in the book before hopping down from the car. Harrington stays where he is but sits up with a grin on his face.

Before Eddie can say anything, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike race over to them and start talking over each other about the campaign. About how fucking cool the session was, about the monster they defeated, about the tactics they had to use to survive the whole things.

Eddie doesn’t know what he expects to happen, didn’t even consider the possibility of these nerdy freshman knowing Steve “The Hair” Harrington, but they obviously do.

Harrington just nods along, asking them a question that Eddie can’t hear that spawns another slew of comments from the kids. The three of them pile into the backseat of the beemer while Buckley takes the front and Harrington slides into the driver’s seat. As the car starts up, the radio blares something loud and poppy and definitely something from the top 40.

This doesn’t seem to deter the kids, who Eddie can see leaning forward from the back, still regaling Harrington and Buckley with their successful session. The red beemer pulls out of the lot, and continues down the street out of sight.

Eddie is still standing by the back entrance of the school, Gareth, Jeff, and Alan behind him. All of them frozen, completely dumbfounded by what the last five minutes.

“What the actual fuck?”

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #pre steddie #steddie

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spookysteddie · 9 months

Text

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it.

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees.

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted.

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous.

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!”

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?”

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.”

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers.

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.”

…

You should’ve changed your mind.

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you.

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time.

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face.

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands.

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long.

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it.

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-”

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.”

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!”

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels.

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?”

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus.

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus.

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually.

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts.

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that. The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs.

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.”

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you.

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.”

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?”

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was.

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.”

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?”

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen.

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke.

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again.

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet.

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening.

Photos are fine.

Everyone must be tagged.

Nothing negative.

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar.

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines.

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?”

You nod, “y-yeah of course.”

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over.

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer.

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.”

…

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more.

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason.

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.”

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something?

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes.

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there!

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.”

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured.

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.”

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not?

“‘Precious babies?’”

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.”

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne.

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him.

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan.

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.”

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.”

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close.

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.”

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?”

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.”

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?”

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.”

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent.

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…”

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?”

So, you do.

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name.

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times.

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos.

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music.

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.”

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care.

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back.

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him.

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him.

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.”

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you.

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes.

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.”

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?”

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.”

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top.

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you.

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right?

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center.

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone.

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid.

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.”

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans.

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No.

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.” He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers.

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?”

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous.

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.”

“V-very.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!”

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.”

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.”

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully.

“Fuck, Eddie.”

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.”

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft”

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it.

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.”

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?”

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.”

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.”

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?”

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it.

“Oh god! Please.”

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down.

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.”

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’

“And now… we wait.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

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astonmartinii · 1 year

Note

hi!! i dont know if you're still taking requests but if you are, can you please do a max verstappen smau with fem reader, where reader is a huge max fan and they like end up together in the end. i love all of your work and i've probably reread most of your work!! your doing great and i hope you have a good day 🫶

worlds biggest fan | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

y/n is the president of the official max verstappen fan club, but nothing can come of that, right?

(this'll probably just be part one so let me know if you want a part two)

maxverstappenarchive

liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and 31,239 others

maxverstappenarchive: max took the win at monza this weekend after a late safety car. the dutchman once again showed he’s a mentality king ignoring all the boos from the tifosi. they hate what they can’t have.

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user1: max verstappen the man you are

maxverstappen1: 🧡

maxverstappenarchive: super max 🏆

yourusername: jealousy is a disease get well soon xoxo

user2: i love how she comments like we don’t know she runs this account

user3: SHES THE ADMIN???

user4: i personally love when maxverstappenarchive gets sassy with it like the caption didn’t have to serve so hard

yourusername: someone has to defend him and it’s got to the point i no longer need to argue with people over the internet i need a GUN

liked by maxverstappen1

user5: we can see you by the way max

yourusername

liked by victoriaverstappen, maxverstappen1 and 3,429 others

yourusername: the library knows my face way more than it should :(

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user6: she’s almost too cool to be the literal president of the max verstappen fan club

user7: no i need her to be this cool cause it makes us 10% cooler by association

user8: she single-handedly covers us from the embarrassment from the middle aged drunk men in the orange army

user9: she’s so chill about the fact that victoria and max are just constantly in her likes

yourbff1: i can assure you she is not chill about it

yourbff2: like at all

yourbff1: wow i wonder who takes these lovely pictures of you at the library and conveniently only takes them when you’re not having a meltdown

yourusername: i love yewwwww xxx

yourbff1: you can repay me when you become a wag

yourusername: PLS don’t say that i shan’t abuse my position as president

yourbff1: shame

maxverstappen1 liked this comment

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 552,895 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, georgerussell63

f1: it all got a little much in the baku sprint race as george russell made contact with max verstappen on the opening lap giving the red bull damage for the entire race. the two came to blows in parc ferme with verstappen sending a number of expletives russell’s way. what do you think?

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user15: is mad max back?

user16: he never left he’s always been a big whiny baby, lewis would never

user17: no need to call russell a dickhead, crashtappen can’t handle someone actually racing him for once - just like his dad

maxverstappenarchive: max has never been a “whiny baby”, he may have been a little hot-headed and someone who always spoke his mind but he could never be categorised as a whiny baby. if you have such a problem with drivers calling other drivers dickheads then you should take it up with hamilton who did the exact same a few seasons ago. you simply have a problem with max’s success which is a you problem and there is no reasonable reason for you to bring jos verstappen into this argument, it immediately invalidates your argument.

user18: period oh my

user19: she spilt so hard here

user20: ignoring whatever domestic just happened in this comment section to say that i don’t care who is in the right - i just live for the drama

f1wagsandtea

liked by pierregasly, user22 and 21,341 others

f1wagsandtea: meet y/n y/ln, the president of the max verstappen fan club. she’s a student at UCL studying english literature and french and unapologetically defends max at all times. however people have been taking notice of how she’s never actually been to a race and how max has been subtlety liking comments about their relationship potential. what do you think about y/n and max?

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user23: kinda creepy that she literally runs his fan club but also it’s kinda cute idk i’m having a crisis over this

user24: i need this not to happen cause i’ll become so delusional and think i can pull charles

yourusername: some people are broke i’m working to go to a race but unfortunately i need food and a place to live first

user25: speaking for the broke queens i love you

maxverstappen1: it’s a bit too late to sort tickets for this weekend, but i can do dinner next week?

yourusername: time and address and im there

user26: bro the dms are there for a reason

maxverstappen1: noted

user27: why did you say that i wanted to witness max verstappens rizz :(

yourbff1: i usually hate these accounts cause y’all too nosey for your own good, but you got my bestie a date with her dream man so you get a pass just this once

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff1 and 6,199 others

yourusername: slow weekend

view all comments

user30: she's playing it too cool i'd be a literal puddle on the floor rn

yourbff1: rest assured that she's been screaming about it for at least the last three days

maxverstappen1: 🧡

yourusername: amazing race maxy 🦁

user31: she's so cool but also CAT

user32: my spidey senses are picking up cat play dates with jimmy, sassy and ... the orange one yourusername: his name is moose user32: not what i was expecting but seems fitting user33: was half-expecting his name to be max maxverstappen1: me too yourusername: guys i'm not that bad yourbff2: her old goldfish was named max yourusername: STOP EMBARRASSING ME

maxverstappenarchive

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 47,831 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

maxverstappenarchive: max won the belgian grand prix to take his win tally to 35 career wins! congratulations max 🧡

view all comments

user34: so like when is he legit going to be in the goat conversation?

user35: genuinely this dominance is so so impressive

maxverstappen1: see you in a couple days 🧡

user36: leave the flirting to the personal accounts verstappen yourusername: i'm so excited you wouldn't believe

redbullracing: in max we trust

maxverstappenarchive: generational talent

user37: i know they won't but can someone livestream this date cause i wanna watch maxverstappenarchive lose her literal mind

yourusername: no mind will be lost i am a grown woman yourbff1: sureeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

yourusername added to their story

[caption: hot summer nights, mid july]

maxverstappen1 added to their story

[caption: no one tell brad]

note: i nearly got to the photo limit so i'm gonna leave this here but i have a lot of ideas for this scenario so let me know if yall want a second part !! also hope this actually fulfilled the original request ??

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months

Text

Part one here

Eddie Munson x Reader

Steve Harrington x reader (not for long)

I hope you all enjoy part two 💞💞

❤️

Get over it. Those three words were permanently etched in your mind the last few days. Eddie's furious gaze and the venom behind his words.

The words sink in slowly but when you do it's like you can't think of anything else. You had to get over your feelings for Eddie and make them disappear so you didn't ruin your friendship with him over this.

Even with him being mean it was obviously something that you needed to hear. There was no use being a bitch to Emery, she liked Eddie and you could never fault anyone for that, could never fault Eddie for having a modicum of happiness in a town that was such a bitch to him.

You needed to hear Eddie say what he said, it had shocked you into realising that you couldn't spend the rest of your life mooning over him.

Get over it. Get over your feelings. That's what you would need to do. How you would do it was another question. One that played on your mind all week.

Mostly you avoided Eddie. Didn't want to see that annoyed look in his eyes aimed at you or hear the harshness of his voice. It was on Friday that you were offered a solution to your worries at Hellfire club.

Since you missed last week there was no way that you could miss another session, so with slight trepidation, you head into the drama room. Eddie's eyes snap up as you approach the table and he clears his throat.

"Where were you last week? We were a player down. Had to ask Sinclair's sister to step in" You smile and wish you could have seen that. Erica would be a great addition to Hellfire, she was as focused and brutal as you were at the game.

"Sorry, headache" his gaze is still on you and you do your best to avoid his curiosity. For the first time, you're grateful when Emery comes bounding up to him and chatting excitedly about some movie and wanted to see.

Then she's gone again and it's just you and Eddie alone, "I haven't seen you much this week?" He points out and you shrug and say you've been busy.

The rest of Hellfire joins you and Eddie to your relief and also shock, between Dustin and Mike was a very nervous-looking Steve Harrington. What was he doing here?

Dustin wastes no time in telling Eddie that Steve is here to join in for a session. He sounds so excited which is sweet and Steve to his credit musters up enough enthusiasm. This can't be his idea of fun so the fact that he's doing this for Dustin is pretty adorable.

Eddie seems fine with letting Steve join as a guest, though he does mutter that he never thought he'd see a king grace the freaks liar.

You make sure Steve is comfortable throughout and joke with him when he seems anxious. He's good at missions, loyal and a hero as a character.

He's also a huge flirt. It takes you a little bit to notice but when you do it leaves you flustered, Steve was handsome and he wanted to flirt with you? That was something you never expected.

Dustin noticed and eventually so did Eddie, you could see his patience thinning towards the end when Steve was flirting with your character pretty heavily. "This is a campaign, not a dating session" Eddie snaps and Steve winks at you.

You don't notice the way Eddie's eyes darken at the sight but even if you did it's not like it meant anything.

💞

Eddie has never been a fan of Steve Harrington. King Steve. Sure the guy seemed to have come a long way since graduating high school but Eddie still didn't like him. He couldn't believe that Harrington of all people was a great guy, no matter how much Dustin insisted that Steve was a badass.

It was the little butthead that got you and Steve talking, Dustin had begged him to join a Hellfire session and Steve agreed albeit reluctantly. He showed up looking nervous and actually anxious to impress Henderson.

That was fine, Eddie could deal with Steve in his orbit if it made Dustin happy. Maybe Steve was a decent guy after all?

It took Eddie an hour into the session to shake off those good natured feelings because for the last ten minutes Steve has flirted with you, in and out of character.

He's only bothered because it distracts from the game. That's why he's so snippy with you and Steve. It has nothing to do with the dreamy look that you give Harrington. Nothing.

Then Hellfire ends and Monday arrives and you're giddy, almost bouncing off the walls and for the first time in over a week you aren't avoiding him.

"Someone's in a good mood" Gareth grins and Mike makes a face. "Ugh don't. She was on the phone with Nancy all of Sunday swooning about Steve while Nancy was crowing about Jonathan, gross" Eddie feels something sour inside of him but puts it down to the after-effects of still being annoyed that Harrington was distracting you from the game on Friday.

"Oh yeah dude, Steve told me about the date" Dustin smiles and begins teasing you. Date. One word that rings in Eddie's ear. You had a date with Steve Harrington?

"We're going to a movie tonight. He's sweet. I like him" Mike and Jeff pretend to fake gag while Lucas rolls his eyes and Dustin looks annoyed at their reactions.

"Steve, you're going on dates with Steve Harrington?" Eddie repeats himself and you beam at him.

"Yes, like I said. He's sweet"

Eddie does not spend the entire day stunned and maybe a tiny bit annoyed that you've fallen for Harrington's charms.

He does not spend all of Thursday bemoaning to Emery when Steve picks you up every day after school and he does not feel like he's been punched in the gut when he sees a hickey on your neck.

No he doesn't. Nope.

Except he does and he doesn't know why the thought of you and Steve keeps him up at night.

💞

Eddie was being weird. It had been that way since last Friday when Steve joined Hellfire but it has kicked up a notch since then.

It escalated even more when Eddie walked in on you and Steve making out on your bed, Steve's arms wrapped around your waist as you sat on his knee. He was shirtless and moaning softly in your ear.

There was a yelp, startled you look up then lock eyes with Eddie who had a faint blush on his cheeks and the strangest expression.

"Sorry, shit. Didn't know you were here Harrington" he practically flies out of the door and you follow him.

"Eds you okay?" He's at the bottom of the stairs and his face is pale, eyes blank and there's a tenseness to the way he stands. He swallows and nods.

"Fine princess. Just didn't realise Steve was here" you shrug and hold a finger to your lips in a shushing motion.

"Shh, the parents don't know that. He snuck in through my window" you expect Eddie to laugh but he's still so quiet and lets out a strangled huff.

"Scandalous" he smirks but his big brown eyes give away his mood. You pause as you take in his expression but he moves away before you can say anything or maybe it's because Steve comes down the stairs while tugging on his shirt.

"I should go, honey, I'll see you tomorrow yeah?" you nod and Eddie is still quiet. He's watching after Steve as he goes with a frown on his face.

"I brought over a movie we could watch. If you want" he holds up the video and you nod eagerly, you're anxious to put this tension behind you and Eddie before it strains your friendship (more than it had been strained already)

So you watch the movie and things are still awkward but it's fine. It will all be fine right?

💞

Steve and Eddie do not get on. In fact, you're pretty sure the dislike is mutual on both sides. There's a party that Chrissy has thrown and you're there with Steve. Eddie is skulking around while doing deals and you can feel his eyes on you several times.

Emery isn't with him which you find strange as usually they are attached at the hip. Steve stiffens and you notice Eddie is walking over to you.

"Hey, sweetheart. Need me to drive you home after the party?" on the few rare times that you attend parties Eddie always drives you home.

"I'm driving her home. We're going to watch a movie after" Steve tells him and Eddie scowls, you can sense an argument brewing and it makes you nervous.

"Easy Harrington. I was just asking, I always drive her home after parties" Eddie snaps and a few people around you stop to watch the growing tension between the two of them.

"Yeah and I'm her boyfriend now Munson so she doesn't need you to" you intervene before things can get really heated.

"Steve, can you get me a drink please?" He nods tightly and heads over to the drinks table, once he's gone, you round on Eddie.

"What the hell is your problem?" you demand and Eddie shrugs, still glaring at Steve.

"My problem is your boyfriend. What do you see in him? His stupid hair and shit. I didn't think you'd ever fall for his shit. I mean what the hell do you even talk about?" you look away flustered and when you catch Eddie's eye his eyes flash with something you can't place.

"Oh I get it you don't talk much" he grits out and you roll your eyes. Your love life was none of Eddie's business.

"We do, he's a really lovely guy. Dustin adores him as does Lucas and even Mike and Gareth. It's you who has some stupid grudge. I get that his friends made your life hell Eddie, they did it to me too but Steve isn't like Carol or Tommy, he hasn't spoken to them in two years"

"You told me to get over whatever was annoying me about Emery, that's what I did," you tell him and he looks confused.

"What does that have to do with Steve? Why do you have to date him" he demands and you glare at him, body vibrating with fury.

"He's a nice guy, he's kind and he's handsome and sweet and if you have a problem with that then maybe you should get over it" You storm off and leave him standing there absolutely stunned as you go and find Steve.

💞

There was a frantic pounding at the trailer door later on that week and Wayne was the first to answer it. He had witnessed Eddie in a slump for almost two weeks now and he would bet it was about you dating the Harrington boy.

If it made his nephew get off his ass and see that you were perfect for him then Wayne was all for it. Emery was a sweet girl and all but Wayne knew his nephew, knew that deep down you held his heart. Even if he was too stubborn to admit it.

So he's not surprised to find you at the other side of the door. He learned from Eddie that he and Emery split up and now you were at the door with a furious expression on your face and the drama continued.

Wayne sighs, "Hey honey. Eddie's sulking in his room" your expression flickers a little.

"Right because he and Emery split up" Oh lord give him strength as he was pretty sure he might have to knock you and Eddie's heads together.

"Nah, that ain't why honey. He's been an idiot and I'm all for you chewing his ass out but maybe not too much yeah? He's realising some things, about time if you ask me" You nod politely and don't dare talk back to Wayne, it wasn't his fault his nephew was a butthead

When you head through to see Eddie he's sprawled in his bed and listening to music but clambers out of bed when he sees you.

"Princess, what are you doing here?" your concern overrides your anger at him as you wonder how he's doing, he and Emery broke up so suddenly. Even if he's been a dumbass he's still your friend, your best friend.

"I heard about you and Emery. I'm sorry" he settles back on the bed.

"It was coming anyway, I shouldn't have dated her in the first place. She's nice but she's not... Anyway, how's Steve?" The question makes the anger inside you spike again and your eyes fill with tears.

"Steve broke up with me because of you, said we obviously had things to discuss and he didn't want to get in the middle of it" you snap and Eddie's face falls as he reaches for you but you step away from him and wipe the tears that fall down your cheeks.

"No don't. What was your problem with Steve and me dating? You told me. You said whatever it is that's causing you to act like a bitch then get over it...so I did, or I was trying to with Steve and I would have if you hadn't acted like such an ass" You're fuming and raise your eyebrow at Eddie in confusion, beg him to tell you what he's thinking.

He swallows and his big brown eyes meet yours, "I was wrong. I don't want you to get over it, get over me" You gape at him and he's hiding his expression while looking away, playing with a lock of his hair as he does, a habit that you've forever found endearing, even now when you're filled with annoyance at your best friend.

"Eddie Munson. Why did you have to go and realise this at the most idiotic time, I don't believe it either. You were so...you were so mean when you told me to get over it, you like Emery...not me" Tears pool in your eyes and he rushes to you and wipes them away.

"She kinda helped me see sense, that no best friend should feel so jealous and feel like they wanted to punch Steve is his perfect teeth just for making you giggle and for kissing you, the thought of you and him tore me up inside and yeah I deserved it".

"I was the one who pushed you into his arms and I hate myself because I'm in love with you"

Frustration fills you and you groan while fighting back tears but there's a part of you that feels elation that he loves you too but you're still pissed. "This isn't fair. I've been trying to get over you, why did you have to realise this now?" Oh shit Eddie's eyes meet yours and he looks stunned.

"You like me?" God, he wasn't dense so why was he being so blind to how you feel.

"I'm in love with you Eddie, that's why I was so weird with Emery" he gapes and closes his mouth then after a minute he speaks again.

"So when I told you to get over what was making you act weird around Emery... Well you did" he finishes quietly.

He swallows back his emotions and desperately wants to hold you but fights down the urge to soothe your fears away. You would only push him away right now.

"Yeah I realised now because I'm an idiot who didn't realise what they had until it was gone but I want to be with you if you still want me" It's the truth, he means it with every fibre of his being.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was an asshole and I get that you have a hard time accepting that I feel the same way, I'm sorry it took all the time to realise how I feel but I promise you that I'm not going anywhere, if you just want to be friends then okay but if you want more then I'll wait for however long it takes"

You wipe your tears away and nod. Then murmur that you need time to think for a bit. Eddie watches you go with a renewed feeling in his heart. He will do anything to help you see that he really does want to be with you.

Before you leave he calls you back and presses a gentle kiss on your hand. "I mean it, princess, I adore you and I'll spend every day proving that to you" You're silent for a few seconds and Eddie bites his lips feeling nervous.

"I mean I get it if you don't feel the same way now, I messed up. Do... do you still love me?" You soften and he waits anxiously for your answer.

"of course, I still love you, Eddie. Fuck, you are so annoying" he beams at this, all dimples and there's a small smile on your face as Eddie walks you out of the trailer. Wayne is watching the scene with a smirk on his face and Eddie blushes at Wayne's knowing look.

"About damn time boy" he proceeds to ruffle Eddie's hair and he hears Wayne laughing all the way as he rushes to his bedroom still blushing.

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson x best friend reader #jealous eddie

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year

Text

You're My Home

Summary: You and Javi have both had one of those weeks where no matter how hard you try, nothing seems to go right. It only takes so long before something stupid makes the both of you snap. When Javi confesses to you what's been putting him on edge, you find a way to make it up to each other.

Word Count: 4.9K

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), vaginal fingering, creampie, angst, PTSD (poor Javi has a panic attack but you help him through it), hurt/comfort, makeup sex (!!!!), bad communication but apologizing/forgiving each other, mentions of food/eating, reader wears Javi's shirt and is carried by Javi, fluff fluff fluff bc you two are so in love with each other it hurts

This can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!

A/N: I don't know what's been in the water that has me so compelled to make something angsty, but here we are!! Once I started writing this I quite literally could not stop, and it turned out to be one of the most intimate things I have ever written 😭🥺 I love these two sm

It had been a week.

A long fucking week.

One of those weeks where it felt like no matter how hard you tried, everything just felt… off. You had just started volunteering to run the Alma Pierce Elementary School drama club, which had you staying an extra hour and a half after school every Monday and Wednesday, on top of preparing for Parent-Teacher Conferences next week. You loved your group of students this year, but holy shit, were they chatty, and the past few days you felt like you might as well have put a cardboard cutout of yourself at the front of the room and left, because your class had absolutely zero interest in paying attention to you. To top it off, you could tell that Javi was having a bad week too. You hadn’t seen much of each other the past few days, with you working late and prepping for conferences, and Javi working on a new project the department had dropped in his lap without notice. Even though you lived in the same apartment, you had felt like strangers this week. Sure, you’d had off days before, but the two of you were always open and honest with each other, seeking comfort and safety in the other's presence, knowing that you were both there for one another, through good times, and bad.

But this week was not like those “off” days. Something about it had felt tense, cold, even. You hated it. You hated every second of it. The two of you were never like this. Javi was your best friend, yet somehow, sitting in the same room, you still felt a million miles apart. Every interaction that you’d had left a worse taste in your mouth than the last- snapping at each other over stupid things like unclosed containers in the fridge or leaving towels on the bathroom floor. The worst was that Javi just could not seem to let things go, his presence feeling overbearing, almost bossy, with everything that you did.

“You left the iron on while you were getting ready, you’re gonna burn down the fucking aparment.”

“Double check the locks on the door, you forgot this morning.”

“If you don’t fix the bath mat before you get in the shower, you’re gonna break your goddamn head open.”

Even worse than that, when you tried to politely remind Javi about something, or do something helpful for him, he had been a complete asshole to you.

“Yes, I can remember to clean it up after I’m done, I’m not fucking 8 years old.”

“Jesus, I know we need more coffee creamer, you put it on the grocery list and reminded me twice.”

“I can put away my own laundry, just let me do it.”

It felt like he was breathing down your neck, the fly in your ear that just wouldn’t go away, and it made you want to scream. You had considered yourself to be a pretty patient person- working with kids, you had to be, but this week, Javier Peña seemed to be testing every ounce of patience you had left in your body, and you were about to run out.

Your Friday night routine with Javi normally consisted of the 3 same things every week

Javi picking up pizza from place down the street on the way home from work

Eating the pizza and watching a movie

Pausing said movie to have sex, finish watching the movie, and then fall asleep on the couch.

On this particular Friday, you had a very strong suspicion that none of those 3 things would be happening tonight. When you came home, you practically collapsed from exhaustion the moment you got through the door. Dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes, you crawled your way to the couch, completely collapsing in its cushions, taking a few deep breaths to try and regain your composure from the hellish day it had been. You finally mustered up enough strength to get up and change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable before sulking around the apartment, making yourself finish chores that had seemed to go neglected all week. Javi was normally home a half hour after you, but as you looked up at the clock, he was 20 minutes later than usual. It wasn’t long before another hour had gone by, leaving you absolutely starving, unable to wait for the dinner Javi may or may not be bringing home. You scavenged through your fridge and pantry, pulling out sauce and spaghetti to make yourself pasta to at least tide you over.

When Javi got home two hours past his normal arrival, you were shocked by the smell of pizza that filled your apartment as he walked through the door. You were even more shocked by the reaction he had to seeing the pot of noodles you had left out on the stove while you sat at the kitchen table to finish report cards to hand out at conferences.

“Did you already fucking eat?” His tone was sharp and brash as he dropped the pizza box on the kitchen counter.

“Well you’re home two hours later than normal, Javi. What was I supposed to do? Not eat? I’m more than capable of fending for myself if you’re not here with pizza.” You could feel pressure in your stomach rising, clenching your fists to try and hold in the last bit of patience you had.

“That’s not the fucking point. You know I always get pizza for us on Friday, you know I’m bringing you dinner, I can’t help that things have been a shit show at work and I’m still trying to at least do something to take care of you.”

Take care of you? Nuh, uh. That was the last straw.

You stood up out of your chair, palms flat on the table as you glared at Javi. “Take care of me? Seriously, Javi? Like I’m some sort of helpless little puppy that can’t fend for themself? I am more than fucking capeable of taking care of myself, and this whole week you have been acting like I am literally incapable of doing anything in this house. Listen, I can tell things have been shitty for you at work, and this week has sucked for me too, but every time I try to go do something nice for you, something to actually help take care of you? You’re already halfway down my goddamn throat, telling me to stop or fix whatever it is I’m doing.” Your heart was racing, blood pumping through your veins so intensely, you could feel your hands begin to shake.

“Because it’s my fucking job to take care of you!” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you stood with your hands on your hips, laughing at him in the least humorous way possible.

“Your job? Your fucking job? You don’t think I’m capable of taking care of myself? That’s fucking great. So you can take care of me, but I can’t take care of you? Yeah, that makes sense. Un-fucking-believeable. I don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you this past week, but I can’t do this right now. I’m going on a fucking run.” You stormed to the door, throwing on your shoes as you white knuckled your keys in your grasp.

“You fucking hate running!” Javi yelled, clenching his jaw before burying his hands in his face.

“I don’t fucking care!” You grunted back, deliberately slamming the door behind you as you sauntered down the stairs of your apartment to the parking lot. Javi was right, there was no physical activity you hated more than running. You weren’t really sure what your plan was, just that you couldn’t stand there fighting with Javi anymore. You could feel the adrenaline flowing through you, enough to make you pick up your feet and actually begin sprinting down the sidewalk. You just kept running. Running until you could feel your sides begin to hurt, until your eyes began to sting from the tears welling behind them, until your chest felt like it was collapsing in on you, making you stop in the middle of the cement pathway in a full on breakdown. You could barely catch your breath, sobbing, as your hands dropped to your knees, your body trembling with each pathetic whimper.

What the fuck were you doing? Why was Javi being like this? Why were you being like this? Why won’t he just talk to you? Why can you just not make things right? Why was the one person you loved more than anything in the world the one who was making you feel like you’d been run over by a semi-truck?

Wiping your tears and snot with your sleeve, you took a deep breath and turned around to head home, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was causing you to both suffer through the worst week ever.

“Javi?” You peeked into the apartment, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” He answered, his voice still sharp, making you wince as you walked over to the couch where he sat.

“Javi… Javi what’s going on? I can’t do this anymore. If I did something to make you mad, I’m sorry, I just-”

“Fucking work has just been a shit show, okay?” He snapped, cutting off your sentence. “I’m going to bed, I’m fucking exhausted.” He sighed as he got up, storming his way down the hallway, leaving you there alone on the couch, your bottom lip quivering as the tears began to stream down your face again, leaving you in a silent, sobbing heap on the couch.

You waited a while before getting into bed with Javi, entering your bedroom in its already dark state to avoid crossing paths while the two of you finished your nighttime routines. You crawled into your comforter, eyes still red and puffy as you lay back to back with Javi, without so much as even a good night, let alone, an “I love you.”

You could feel yourself stirring, tossing and turning in your sleep as you rolled over, outstretching your arm to an unfamiliarly empty space. You turned over to face Javi, now finding yourself wide awake at the fact that he wasn’t there next to you. Immediately, you shot up, calling out his name as you got out of bed, wondering where the hell he was. As you made your way into the hallway, you whispered his name once more before hearing the sounds of heavy, labored breathing coming from the living room. You rushed in, finding Javi sitting on the floor, his hand grasping at his chest with a look of pure panic on his face.

“I feel like… Fuck, I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart is beating so fast.” He whimpered between his shaky breathing and sobs. “I just- I just kept seeing it over and over again in my head and I woke up and it still wouldn’t go away. Every when I wake up, it’s like it’s fucking haunting me. I feel like something’s crushing my chest. Baby, what’s happening?” He gasped as he looked up at you, helpless and desperate.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You knew exactly what was happening.

Immediately, you climbed into his lap, wrapping yourself around him as tightly as possible, stretching your arms as widely as you could around the broadness of his body. You tried to slow your breathing down, taking long inhales and exhales as you held him. “Just breathe, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, I promise. I’m here. Deep breaths, okay?”

“Osita, I can’t- Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” His voice was trembling, each word low and labored as he grasped at the back of his shirt you had draped over your back.

“I know, baby. I know. I know it’s scary. I promise that you’re safe. I’m here, okay? Just breathe. In and out. I’m not leaving. You’re safe with me, I promise it will be okay.” Even though your heart was shattering, you did everything you could to be the calm in his storm, whispering your reassurances in your soft, sweet voice. Slowly but surely, you could feel the intensity of his breaths lessen, the rising and falling of his chest easing as he grasped tighter at your shirt, pulling you closer to him.

“It’s okay, Javi. It’s okay. Listen, I’m gonna ask you to do something, alright? It’s gonna sound stupid but it’s gonna help.” You could feel him nod against your chest, his sobs finally beginning to slow. “Can you open your eyes and tell me 5 things you see?” You felt him lift his head, looking up at you, his face wet and red as his deep brown eyes locked with yours.

“Fuck, um, the- the wall, the carpet, the uh, um, the couch, shit, the TV, you. I can see you.”

“Okay, perfect. What about 4 things you can touch, like feel in your hands?” You smiled gently at him as his breathing was now at a near normal rate. He raised up his arm, wiping his damp face with his palm.

“My fucking wet face.” The both of you smirked, bringing you relief that Javi was already half laughing. “The carpet, my shirt, that always looks better on you than it does on me. Fuck, I can feel your skin, it’s always so soft. I love feeling it.” He ran one of his hands along the bare skin of your thigh, his fingers grasping at your flesh.

“You’re doing great, baby. How about 3 things you can hear?”

“Um, the cars outside, the fan, I could feel your heartbeat when I was on your chest.” He pressed his head back against you, raking your fingers through the ends of his damp curls, sticking to his forehead from his panicked sweat.

Okay, almost done. What about 2 things you can smell?” You asked, running your fingers along the nape of his neck.

“Your shirt smells like laundry. No matter how hard I try it just always smells better when you do it. And your shampoo. It always smells so sweet and fruity, it’s my favorite.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hand gently tugging at the ends of your hair, twisting his fingers through it.

“Okay, last one. Something you can taste.” He lifted his head, looking at you as he slid the hand in your hair to cradle your jaw, cupping your face.

“You.” He rasped, his lips barely pressing against yours, feeling the hot breaths between your mouths as they met. He pulled back, pausing for a moment before he spoke. “Baby…I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. This week has been all my fault. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this and I was scared. I was so fucking scared.”

“Javi, it’s okay. Please, I just want to be here for you. You know you can tell me anything, okay? I love you, Javi. I love you more than anything. I know it hurts to talk about the things that scare you the most, but it’s even scarier watching the person you love hurt so badly and not knowing what to do to help them. I don’t care what it is, baby. There’s nothing you can tell me that’s gonna scare me away.” The look on his face nearly broke you. You could tell he was so hurt. Hurt by whatever had been haunting him. Hurt by the fact he wasn’t okay. Hurt by the fact that he had hurt you.

“The project I’ve been working on this week… It all started because of how bad things are getting across the border in Mexico. A mom was out with her kids and they were all shot in a hit and run accident between two people making a drug trade. It was only an hour from here. I watched so many people do so many fucked up things that I thought I would never have to worry about again once I got home. And even if I did, I was going to be the only person I needed to worry about. But I couldn’t stop imagining that mom with her kids was you. You and our future kids. Every night since that fucking case file got set on my desk, I wake up to the same fucking nightmare of me running down the street, trying to grab you, push you, do anything to get you out of the way, but every fucking night I’m never fast enough. All I can do is watch as that bullet goes through you and you fall to the ground. I can’t let it happen to you. What if something goes wrong and I can’t protect you? I couldn’t fucking live with myself. I just want to keep you safe Osita. I’m so sorry. I love you too much to lose you.”

Fuck.

It wasn’t long before you were crying with him, squeezing him tightly once again, pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. That’s what had been going on. That’s why he had been so overbearing. That’s why he hadn’t been the Javi that you’d known and loved this week. On the night he’d told you the worst of the things he had seen and done away in Colombia, you had seen how his eyes had filled with regret, remorse, even anger. But this was different. Never once in the time that you’d known him had you seen Javi so scared. The look in his eyes when you found him sitting on the floor was one of pure terror. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like, waking up night after night to the image of Javi slipping away, let alone coming to grips with the reality that you couldn’t even fathom, and he knew far too well. Javi knew you had no problem sticking up for yourself. You were strong, tough, and fiercely independent- those were all things he loved so much about you. But those things weren’t enough to protect you from the dangers that haunted his past, or the terrifying reality of the present.

Through the silent cries of your sobs, you felt Javi’s hand under your chin, lifting your head to force your eyes to meet. “Osita, I’m so sorry. Pease, please forgive me. I’ve been so lost in my own world this week because I’ve been so scared about what could happen to you. I had my head so far up my own ass that I thought I was doing everything I could to try and keep you safe in any way that I could, and instead I’ve just been a fucking dick to the person I care about more than anything in the world. I don’t wanna fight anymore, I fucking hate it. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You draped your arms around his neck, your fingers tracing small, gentle circles along his back as you stared back at him. “I didn’t know, Javi. I didn’t know you were so scared. I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna fight anymore either. This has been the shittiest week. I missed you. I missed my best friend.” He pressed his hand against the back of your head, cradling it in his palm as he hugged you tightly. “You just have to promise me something, okay?”

“Anything. Anything, baby.”

“You have to promise me that you can’t keep all of this in. You have to promise me you’ll talk to someone about it. Me, your dad, people at work, Steve, a therapist, someone. There are so many people who care so much about you who just wanna help. You’re the strongest person I know, Javi, but it’s okay to not be strong sometimes.” He let out a long, shaky breath, darting his eyes down at the ground, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. “You promise me?” You asked again, grabbing his face in your hands, swiping your thumb along his wet cheeks.

“I promise.”

In that moment, it was like the two of you could feel something in the air change. The tension lifting, the frustrated fog fading, the both of you desperately needing the other to know how sorry you were for the way you had acted. You found yourself face to face, eyes closing as your mouths came together in the most gentle, tender kiss. But even as your parted lips barely pressed against one another, you could practically feel how desperate you both were.

“I love you.”

Even though you whispered it against the soft, unshaven stubble of Javi’s cheek, it feels like you’re screaming it, determined to make sure he hears those 3 words as they fall from your lips, that he knows how much you mean each one, every second of every hour of every day. You can feel the heat in your chest as his hands grasp around the small of your back, pulling you closer as your bodies melt together, the tension straining in your muscles dissipating with each second he pulls you closer.

“I love you too.”

It felt like suddenly, all was right with the world again. The Javi you knew and loved had come back, returning home to you. All of the fear and sadness was replaced by a rampant desperation to know how much you needed him, almost as much as he needed to show you how desperately he craved you, too. The tingle built at the base of your spine as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, his hand creeping further up your belly, pressing against the curves of your sides. You raised your arms as his fists balled up the worn fabric, carefully lifting it over your head as his hot breath ran against your neck, leaving gentle, tender kisses along your newly exposed skin. Your hands pressed against his hips, tugging at the waistband of his cotton sleep shorts as he locked his arms under your legs, bringing you both to stand as you wrapped your legs around the small of his back, the skin of your bare chests brushing against each other as he carried you toward the bedroom. Each kiss of your parted lips was like a plea, begging that the other would forgive you, that despite the way you had treated each other there was no one in the world that you loved more, that you would rather be with right here, right now.

Crossing the threshold to the bedroom, Javi leaned his body over the mattress, carefully placing you down in the warm, tangled sheets of your bed that had felt so cold and harsh only a few hours ago. You looked up at Javi standing at the end of the bed as he nudged his shorts off of his hips, leaving him exposed, the clothes now pooling around his ankles. Crawling over you, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, the only thing left on your body after your shirt had been left behind in the living room. You lifted your hips, helping him shuffle the fabric down your legs as he ran his hands along the meat of your thighs. He leaned over you, the temples of your foreheads pressed against each other as his fingers danced along the skin of your bare legs, barely grazing against your entrance. You could already feel the slick of your arousal pooling under his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers ever so gently tracing up and down your folds, making you shutter.

“Javi... Please.” Your voice trembled as Javi nodded, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You gasped as you felt the thickness of his fingers heedfully pushing themselves inside you, arching your back against the bed as his thumb delicately pressed on your clit. Each thrust of his hand in and out of your heat was dragging and deliberate, the rubbing of his fingertip along your sensitive bundle of nerves making your moans muffled against his chest. Every touch of his hand made you feel better than the last, but there was something primal about the way that you needed him inside you, how you ached to feel him buried deep in heat, to feel every inch of him. “I need you. Please, I need you.” You whimpered against his skin, making him lift his head to look at you as you watched the chocolate brown of his eyes grow darker with lust. He worked in silence, removing his fingers as he stroked himself, making your cunt throb in anticipation as you felt the tip of his cock stroke along your entrance, a moan escaping from your parted lips as he guided himself inside you.

“Fuck…” He whispered, pushing himself in further, inch by inch, before bottoming out, his tip bumping against your cervix. You wrapped your legs around his back, doing anything you could to bring him closer to you, trying to melt your bodies into one and hold him so tightly you could never let him float away again. You dug your nails into his muscular back as he began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke, as if he was savoring every sweet moment. “I love you, Osita. I love you so much, baby. Gonna make you feel good, okay? I promise.” It was like you could feel his words with each stroke, the promise that had fallen from his lips burying itself deep inside you with every rock of his hips against yours. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of your mixed moans and skin hitting against each other. Even when no words escaped from your mouths, it was almost as if you could hear each other through the sounds between the two of you, coating your walls.

I love you.

I need you.

I’m so sorry.

His palm pressed along the sheen of your skin, snaking down your body to rub against your clit, intensifying the throbbing that you already felt growing between your legs. With each thrust of his hips, his cock pounded deeper into your heat, hitting the spot within you that had the arousal beginning to pool intensely within your belly, that creeping familiar feeling building at the base of your spine. You dug your nails deeper into Javi’s skin, grasping for the damp curls at the nape of his neck, your whimpers growing louder and more desperate with each stroke as you could feel yourself beginning to crumble beneath him.

“Javi, pleaseee. Bab-ahhhhh, I’m so close.” You felt your cunt begin to clench around his length, making him moan as each push and pull of hips became more intense, punching against your g-spot and making your writhe under his touch.

“I know you are, Hermosa. Cum for me baby, cum all over me and show me how you’re mine.”

His words make something inside you snap, making you shake and your body tense as your arms and legs tightened their grip around Javi, crying out his name as your orgasm rushed through you. His lips met yours, swallowing your moans as his pumps became frantic and sloppy, only taking a few more before he was chasing his own high. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect. Te amo más que a nada. Soy tyuo para siempre. (I love you more than anything, I’m yours, forever.). Fuck, I’m gonna- shit- I’m- ahhhhhhh” With one last push, you could feel him throbbing inside you, spilling against your walls, pumping every last drop of himself inside you as he slumped into your body, your hearts racing, chests rising and falling as one. The two of you laid there for a moment, your bodies tangled in each other, letting each of your breaths sync as you came down from your blissed out highs. Javi hissed as he turned over to pull out of you, making you whine at the loss, before rolling over to lay your head on his chest. You could feel his arm wrap around you to pull you in closer, his fingers tracing along your shoulder blade as you draped your arm across his stomach.

“I guess that’s one way to make up for this shitty week.” You giggled as Javi shook his head, joining you, the both of you glad to hear the sweet sounds of each other's laughter for the first time in much too long. “Can we never do this again? I never wanna fight like that ever again. These last few days have sucked without you.”

“Never. This was the fucking worst. Never again. I promise.” He kissed the top of your head, burying his nose in your messy curls as he held you just a little bit tighter.

“Okay.” You smiled against his warm, tanned skin before looking up at him. “You wanna know the worst part?”

“What, baby?”

“I didn’t even get to eat any of that pizza.” Javi chuckled as he shook you playfully in his grasp, making you squirm and snicker as he held you.

“There’s still some left in the fridge. Let me go get it and you can tell me all about your week, okay?” He kissed your forehead as he pushed himself out of bed, making his way to the door.

“Okay. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, I didn’t even get to tell you how I had to call Mark’s mom in the middle of math because he stuck a crayon up his nose yesterday.” The both of you snorted as Javi looked back at you.

“I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

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stary-darlin · 5 months

Text

JUST HOLDING HER LIKE THAT, MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE TURNING BACK

— ex!ellie williams × reader

It's been 150 days since your last conversation with Ellie, which was an argument, unfortunately. none of you were pleased by the result of it, yet you two still decided to not talk, ignoring when your friends asked you about what happened or if you guys still have a connection with each other. you both were at fault.

And just like teenagers, you both would eye each other when you see each other in the club or anywhere honestly. luck wasn't at any of your sides, maybe because both of you were scardy cats that would die if you chatted with your ex that you still love? maybe.

Moral of the story: both of you became strangers, trying to forget your significant other's name each time you heard their name be called, your body letting out an electric shock each time your shoulders touched each other.

Ellie's friend, Dina knew damn well what was going on, and she was not surprised by so. since when you guys were friends – before confessing your love to each other – you both did the same thing. blushing when you would get close to each other like some teenagers, staying quiet when you sit next to each other. even though you both were pleading for each other's love, your eyes would say it all. As they say, eyes are the window of the soul, and it was indeed. but Dani knew she had to stop this period drama play of yours.

So she came up with a plan that would work on the dumbest couple in the whole world – aka you and Ellie if that's not visible – but needed others' help so she called Abby and Jesse.

SATURDAY, 23:08 PM

— Jesse: why are we doing this again?...

— Dina: to stop them from looking like sad puppies when they see each other

— Jesse: damn right lol

— Abby: so what are we going to do?

— Dina: okay so we will invite them to our party but separately, so they don't know that the other is coming.

— Jesse: okay...

— Abby: mhm

— Dina: and you both know that Ellie has a low tolerance for alcohol

— Abby: so she gets drunk and confesses to y/n? bet.

— Jesse: tbh, I feel like we will regret this...

— Dina: Shut up jesse, come in 30 minutes.

Dina called you, inviting you to the party as the plan says, and you agreed to a party freak like yourself. Dani nodded to the others and set up the living room with LED lights and party decorations, sipping on their fresh drinks when they were done as a prize for their hard work.

"Imagine if this doesn't work," Jesse spoke to himself, "I would die cause I have a test in like two days."

Both Abby and Dina glared at him like two eagles looking for their meal of the day which shut Jesse up. "as if you get good grades in 'em or study" abby replied to him before rolling her eyes and opening her phone, calling ellie with Jesse's stunned expression in the background.

When you arrived to dina's apartment, abby was done with inviting ellie with force because ellie said she didnt feel good a.k.a felt depressed after the break up that was five months ago, i mean come on ellie is sad cause she lost her ultimate sweetheart, her sweet soulmate.

You parted with all three like there was no tomorrow, all of you hugging with your arms on your shoulders while jumping around with your glasses in hand. dani and abby looked at each other, finding it weird that abby didn't come till now and it was already 20 minutes after ending the call. jesse couldn't even care, he was having the time of his life dancing with you and drinking shots of vodka, letting the burning effect of the alcohol burn down his throat.

"Where is ellie?" dina whispered to abby while pretending to dance, "didn't you call her like 20 minutes ago?"

Abby looked down at her phone and nodded, "yes, she said she will come after 10 minutes."

Dina groaned and took a shot before taking her phone and calling ellie. ellie answered quickly, pretending to cough and making the excuse that she's sick, letting dina pull out plan B.

"Don't you want to get back with your darling sweetheart?" she whispered angrily to the phone, forcing a smile and raising her glass when you smile to her. ellie then all of a sudden ellie was no longer sick, "wait, what? you have her with you? oh my god, thank you, thank you."

"Just come fucking here before she passes out from all the drinks shes taking–" she hung up and ellie jumped off her bed like super mario, putting on the sexiest silk black blouse on herself, was it because she was going to re-marry you today? yes, actually, she daydreamed of being your husband with the confidence of a greek god.

As you went to the bathroom, you heard loud banging that you later on ignored when Dina opened the door. you fix your lipstick, apply another coat on your lips before adding lip balm on for a little glossy look, looking at your face for a last time before opening the door and walking back to the living room, the loud music muffling the sounds of the chatter and laughter as you tilted your head to the side and took another glass that was on the kitchen's pantry with the other snacks, noticing a hand take the last glass right in front of you, trapping you on the side of the pantry. turning around you saw Ellie with that black blouse that was perfect with her biceps and her skin color, looking at her with widened expressions, both of you keeping eye contact for a moment before you walked away with the glass in hand.

Ellie turned around, her eyes following your figure, watching the way your jeans skirt moved on your hips with each step you took and the tight crop top with graphics on it, showing your torso and body to her, causing Ellie's mouth to water for a second. remembering she has to act sexy and cool to attract you back, she put down the glass and took a shot of vodka that was soon mixed with other rough heavy alcohol drink.

She watched you in the corner of everywhere, admiring your beauty that was in its most divine shapes; looking like a painting that was waiting for her to start painting to complete it, and she does admit you both complete each other and that's what she loved about you. she didn't have to work hard for anything cause she knew you were worth all her time, she was willing to be the mark to your Cleopatra with every fiber in her body.

She held her chuckle and smile when she watched you almost trip on the couch's leg, seems like the alcohol was working indeed. and her clumsy little sweetheart just keeping on tripping over and over again before letting out a tiny burp, she knew it was her show time. So she walked to you with her hands in her pants, "hey, you good, babe?" she whispered against your ear, causing you to flinch and look back at her, your eyes closing and opening lazily.

"Yeah, you are not, are you? come, should we go to the guest room?" she took your hand with her arm around your waist, her hand grasping your waist with slight grip. her braincells laughing and giggling at being able to feel you again. "come, let's go."

She walked you to the guest room that was away from everyone, chuckling to herself as she saw you with your gaze still on her looking like a total deer in the headlights. "stop looking at me like that, babe." she tilting her head to the side as she slide you into her other arm to close the door behind her.

"Woah–" you replied to her with your lips curled into an 'O' shape, your eyes turning into hearts as you stared at the two unbottoned buttons that gave you the view of her fair skin, making your cheeks redden. ellie hummed and looked at where you stared at her before letting out a laughter and looking back at you, her eyes narrowed into a curve with her lips, her smirk causing you to let out random babbles.

"Uh-huh, baby?" ellie played along as she placed the back of her hand against the side of your cheek, screaming internally as she felt the warmth of your soft cheeks that were caused by the alcohol. "u–...uh-huh" you shuttered as you nodded with nothing but pure emptiness in your head.

"You're so fucking cute, god." she groaned as she leaned in, taking your lips against yours, savoring every second of it. her hands cupping your face to the back of your ears – with ellie deepening the kiss – her tongue sliding against your parted lips, tasting your cherry lip balm causing her to groan once more. leaning back to let you get your breath, your face flushed with your lipstick smudged, turning on ellie even more.

You whimper softly while opening your eyes lazily, leaning your head closer to her face, and putting your palm on her collarbone, tip-toeing your way to the top to take another kiss, whimpering once more as she backs away playfully. "Do you even know what you're doing right now?"

"Uh-huh..." you nodded before tip-toeing again to kiss her, causing her to lean back before your lips meet hers, "let me–" you pout as you try one again, only repeating the same loop over and over again until you got tired to the point you started tearing up. Head down and bottom lip forward into a sad pout. "No, baby. Don't cry, I'm sorry." Ellie quickly lifted you head see your face, wiping the tears away with her hand cupping your face to only see that it was all an act. "Are you actin–" you cut her off by kissing her but this time you were the one in lead, tip-toeing on her shoe as you pressed your body against her, one of your arms on the beginning of her back and the other on the back of her head. Letting out a soft gasp as she bites your bottom lip, pouting as the shining pain continues when she continues kissing you.

Your intimate moment speaking words as much as your actions did, ellie leaded you to the bed while not letting go of your lips as if she wanted to get a new record on kissing you for the longest time.

"Ellie–" you gasped once more, hands on her shoulders as you pulled away from the kiss for a little mini break, all of that kissing sobering you up. "You–...we shouldn't do this."

Ellie frowned and took your hand to her chest where the heart, "you love me still, don't you?" You nodded with a pout, "and I love you so that means nothing is wrong with it. Now come here–" she took your lips against hers before you pulled away again.

"But we broke up" you spoke as you gazed up at her, "okay and? It was a heated argument, baby. We both couldn't live without each other." You looked over at her eyes, the shine in them like the one when she confessed to you; real and true.

"Look, I'm sorry for raising my voice. I regretted it since then and didn't know how to make up for it, I'm really, really sorry. I loved you since the first day I saw you, and the same love for you is still with me, I love you with every energy to my soul." She confessed while keeping her tilted head beside yours, her hand on your jaw with the other on the other side of your hips, pinning you to the bed. You let out a soft whine of her name as you pouted, tears in your eyes as you kissed her once again but this time it was heated and full of regret and hope for the upcoming, ellie let out a groan and leaned closer, cupping your throat with one hand, her thumb pressing gently on it.

"You don't know how much I missed you, missed this." She murmured against your lips before continuing to kiss you, parting your lips with her tongue which caused you to let out a soft moan as you lay down on the bed with ellie on top, following you.

As the situation got more heated, Jesse walked past the room to go to the bathroom since abby was in the other one and heard muffled moans and gasps, his face reddened as soon as he knew what you and ellie are doing. Dina followed him to ask him about what music to play next and heard the noises too, her expression freezing as she looked at the door.

"I told you we will soon regret this..." Jesse whispered to her while pressing his lips together into a straight line. "L-let's just...uhm go." Dina's voice softly appeared since the next song came up, both her and Jesse walked back to the living room, their faces traumatized as if they were kids who noticed their parents have sex. Abby came out of the bathroom and stood infront of them.

"Is everything okay?" She asked while taking a glass and taking a sip.

"N-no, no. Nothing's okay– I mean everything is okay." Jesse mumbled while staring at the floor like an insane person in the asylum.

"Why do you guys look like that then?–" she asked while raising a brow, confused. God replying to her by himself as soon as she says that. The music lowered down by siri with a combination of muffled moans that were now louder and bed-creaking noises. "Oh." She shut her mouth so quick, "well atleast they are together right and having fun?" She tried to comfort their brains that was traumatized in a second.

"Yeah..." both of dina and Jesse replied back.

Requests: open <3

#MARI'S WORKS ꒰͡ ི ༏ ྀ͡꒱ ⭑๋܂#ellie williams x reader #wlw #lesbian #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams the last of us #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff #dina tlou #jesse tlou #abby tlou #ellie williams headcanons #ellie wiliams x fem reader

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macrolit · 4 months

Text

By Elisabeth Egan May 18, 2024

“You’d be shocked by how many books have women chained in basements,” Reese Witherspoon said. “I know it happens in the world. I don’t want to read a book about it.”

Nor does she want to read an academic treatise, or a 700-page novel about a tree.

Sitting in her office in Nashville, occasionally dipping into a box of takeout nachos, Witherspoon talked about what she does like to read — and what she looks for in a selection for Reese’s Book Club, which she referred to in a crisp third person.

“It needs to be optimistic,” Witherspoon said. “It needs to be shareable. Do you close this book and say, ‘I know exactly who I want to give it to?’”

But, first and foremost, she wants books by women, with women at the center of the action who save themselves. “Because that’s what women do,” she said. “No one’s coming to save us.”

Witherspoon, 48, has now been a presence in the book world for a decade. Her productions of novels like “Big Little Lies,” “Little Fires Everywhere” and “The Last Thing He Told Me” are foundations of the binge-watching canon. Her book club picks reliably land on the best-seller list for weeks, months or, in the case of “Where the Crawdads Sing,” years. In 2023, print sales for the club’s selections outpaced those of Oprah’s Book Club and Read With Jenna, according to Circana Bookscan, adding up to 2.3 million copies sold.

So how did an actor who dropped out of college (fine, Stanford) become one of the most influential people in an industry known for being intractable and slightly tweedy?

It started with Witherspoon’s frustration over the film industry’s skimpy representation of women onscreen — especially seasoned, strong, smart, brave, mysterious, complicated and, yes, dangerous women.

“When I was about 34, I stopped reading interesting scripts,” she said.

Witherspoon had already made a name for herself with “Election,” “Legally Blonde” and “Walk the Line.” But, by 2010, Hollywood was in flux: Streaming services were gaining traction. DVDs were following VHS tapes to the land of forgotten technology.

“When there’s a big economic shift in the media business, it’s not the superhero movies or independent films we lose out on,” Witherspoon said. “It’s the middle, which is usually where women live. The family drama. The romantic comedy. So I decided to fund a company to make those kinds of movies.”

In 2012, she started the production company Pacific Standard with Bruna Papandrea. Its first projects were film adaptations of books: “Gone Girl” and “Wild,” which both opened in theaters in 2014.

Growing up in Nashville, Witherspoon knew the value of a library card. She caught the bug early, she said, from her grandmother, Dorothea Draper Witherspoon, who taught first grade and devoured Danielle Steel novels in a “big cozy lounger” while sipping iced tea from a glass “with a little paper towel wrapped around it.”

This attention to detail is a smoke signal of sorts: Witherspoon is a person of words.

When she was in high school, Witherspoon stayed after class to badger her English teacher — Margaret Renkl, now a contributing opinion writer for The New York Times — about books that weren’t part of the curriculum. When Witherspoon first moved to Los Angeles, books helped prepare her for the “chaos” of filmmaking; “The Making of the African Queen” by Katharine Hepburn was a particular favorite.

So it made sense that, as soon as Witherspoon joined Instagram, she started sharing book recommendations. Authors were tickled and readers shopped accordingly. In 2017, Witherspoon made it official: Reese’s Book Club became a part of her new company, Hello Sunshine.

The timing was fortuitous, according to Pamela Dorman, senior vice president and publisher of Pamela Dorman Books/Viking, who edited the club’s inaugural pick, “Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine.” “The book world needed something to help boost sales in a new way,” she said.

Reese’s Book Club was that something: “Eleanor Oliphant” spent 85 weeks on the paperback best-seller list. The club’s second pick, “The Alice Network,” spent nearly four months on the weekly best-seller lists and two months on the audio list. Its third, “The Lying Game,” spent 18 weeks on the weekly lists.

“There’s nothing better than getting that phone call,” added Dorman, who has now edited two more Reese’s Book Club selections.

Kiley Reid’s debut novel, “Such a Fun Age,” got the nod in January 2020. She said, “When I was on book tour, a lot of women would tell me, ‘I haven’t read a book in four years, but I trust Reese.’” Four years later, on tour for her second novel, “Come and Get It,” Reid met women who were reading 100 books a year.

Witherspoon tapped into a sweet spot between literary and commercial fiction, with a few essay collections and memoirs sprinkled in. She turned out to be the literary equivalent of a fit model — a reliable bellwether for readers in search of intelligent, discussion-worthy fare, hold the Proust. She wanted to help narrow down the choices for busy readers, she said, “to bring the book club out of your grandma’s living room and online.”

She added: “The unexpected piece of it all was the economic impact on these authors’ lives.”

One writer became the first person in her family to own a home. “She texted me a picture of the key,” Witherspoon said. “I burst into tears.”

Witherspoon considers a handful of books each month. Submissions from publishers are culled by a small group that includes Sarah Harden, chief executive of Hello Sunshine; Gretchen Schreiber, manager of books (her original title was “bookworm”); and Jon Baker, whose team at Baker Literary Scouting scours the market for promising manuscripts.

Not only is Witherspoon focused on stories by women — “the Bechdel test writ large,” Baker said — but also, “Nothing makes her happier than getting something out in the world that you might not see otherwise.”

When transgender rights were in the headlines in 2018, the club chose “This Is How It Always Is,” Laurie Frankel’s novel about a family grappling with related issues in the petri dish of their own home. “We track the long tail of our book club picks and this one, without fail, continues to sell,” Baker said.

Witherspoon’s early readers look for a balance of voices, backgrounds and experiences. They also pay attention to the calendar. “Everyone knows December and May are the busiest months for women,” Harden said, referring to the mad rush of the holidays and the end of the school year. “You don’t want to read a literary doorstop then. What do you want to read on summer break? What do you want to read in January?”

Occasionally the group chooses a book that isn’t brand-new, as with the club’s April pick, “The Most Fun We Ever Had,” from 2019. When Claire Lombardo learned that her almost-five-year-old novel had been anointed, she thought there had been a mistake; after all, her new book, “Same As it Ever Was,” is coming out next month. “It’s wild,” Lombardo said. “It’s not something that I was expecting.”

Sales of “The Most Fun We Ever Had” increased by 10,000 percent after the announcement, according to Doubleday. Within the first two weeks, 27,000 copies were sold. The book has been optioned by Hello Sunshine.

Witherspoon preferred not to elaborate on a few subjects: competition with other top-shelf book clubs (“We try not to pick the same books”); the lone author who declined to be part of hers (“I have a lot of respect for her clarity”); and the 2025 book she’s already called dibs on (“You can’t imagine that Edith Wharton or Graham Greene didn’t write it”).

But she was eager to set the record straight on two fronts. Her team doesn’t get the rights to every book — “It’s just how the cookie crumbles,” she said — and, Reese’s Book Club doesn’t make money off sales of its picks. Earnings come from brand collaborations and affiliate revenue.

This is true of all celebrity book clubs. An endorsement from one of them is a free shot of publicity, but one might argue that Reese’s Book Club does a bit more for its books and authors than most. Not only does it promote each book from hardcover to paperback, it supports authors in subsequent phases of their careers.

Take Reid, for instance. More than three years after Reese’s Book Club picked her first novel, it hosted a cover reveal for “Come and Get It,” which came out in January. This isn’t the same as a yellow seal on the cover, but it’s still a spotlight with the potential to be seen by the club’s 2.9 million Instagram followers.

“I definitely felt like I was joining a very large community,” Reid said.

“Alum” writers tend to stay connected with one another via social media, swapping woot woots and advice. They’re also invited to participate in Hello Sunshine events and Lit Up, a mentorship program for underrepresented writers. Participants get editing and coaching from Reese’s Book Club authors, plus a marketing commitment from the club when their manuscripts are submitted to agents and editors.

“I describe publishing and where we sit in terms of being on a river,” Schreiber said. “We’re downstream; we’re looking at what they’re picking. Lit Up gave us the ability to look upstream and say, ‘We’d like to make a change here.’”

The first Lit Up-incubated novel, “Time and Time Again” by Chatham Greenfield, is coming out from Bloomsbury YA in July. Five more fellows have announced the sales of their books.

As Reese’s Book Club approaches a milestone — the 100th pick, to be announced in September — it continues to adapt to changes in the market. Print sales for club selections peaked at five million in 2020, and they’ve softened since then, according to Circana Bookscan. In 2021, Candle Media, a Blackstone-backed media company, bought Hello Sunshine for $900 million. Witherspoon is a member of Candle Media’s board. She is currently co-producing a “Legally Blonde” prequel series for Amazon Prime Video.

This month, Reese’s Book Club will unveil an exclusive audio partnership with Apple, allowing readers to find all the picks in one place on the Apple Books app. “I want people to stop saying, ‘I didn’t really read it, I just listened,’” Witherspoon said. “Stop that. If you listened, you read it. There’s no right way to absorb a book.”

She feels that Hollywood has changed over the years: “Consumers are more discerning about wanting to hear stories that are generated by a woman.”

Even as she’s looking forward, Witherspoon remembers her grandmother, the one who set her on this path.

“Somebody came up to me at the gym the other day and he said” — here she put on a gentle Southern drawl — “‘I’m going to tell you something I bet you didn’t hear today.’ And he goes, ‘Your grandma taught me how to read.’”

Another smoke signal, and a reminder of what lives on.

#reese witherspoon #reese's book club #reading #literary #club #book #new york times #elisabeth egan #article

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hellfirenacht · 2 months

Text

Crit Happens: Session 0

Fic Summary: You are who’s Dustin’s favorite cousin from out of town who is staying with him for the summer. Eddie finds himself jealous as he's suddenly been pushed aside as Dustin’s favorite dungeon master. When Dustin insists that Eddie join the campaign, you and Eddie quickly butt heads about how Dungeons and Dragons should be played.

Master List

2.2k words

May, 1986

Session 0

The air in the drama room was hot and stagnant as the members of Hellfire held their breath. One Erica Sinclair held the D20 between her palms, shaking her cupped hands together, while everyone stared at her in anticipation of the drop that would tell them if the campaign that they had been working through all semester had been for naught.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he found himself standing taller to look over his DM screen as the die fell from her grasp, tumbling and rolling to decide the fate of the party. Two weeks ago, he had damn near thrown a fit over the idea of pushing back the finale of The Cult of Vecna out by a week, but he was no longer regretting that decision after spending his spring break working and reworking his notes until he was ready to kill Vecna himself from the frustration.

The older Sinclair stood behind his sister, gripping her shoulders tightly, while Dustin and Will held Lucas’s. Actually, if Eddie hadn’t been staring so hard at the die as it clacked along the squares of his map, he would have seen all of Hellfire cleaning to each other, and he would have absolutely made fun of them.

Not now though.

The die hit the small podium that Eddie had spent an afternoon putting together to set Vecna on top of. The mini-fig shifted just slightly under Eddie’s hawk-like gaze before toppling over. A fitting end as the die settled on the magic number.

“Nat 20!” Erica yelled, smiling wide with an excitement for the game that made Eddie nostalgic for his days as a player. Immediately, the room erupted in cheers and jumping as the members of Hellfire celebrated.

Eddie jumped up, and clapped his hands, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

Two weeks ago, Lucas begged him to postpone Hellfire. Two weeks ago Lucas had told Eddie that he could guarantee a passing grade for O’Donnels if he would postpone this one time. Lucas swore that he could get Eddie the best math tutor in Hawkins.

Now, said tutor had just rolled a Nat 20 and was being hailed as a hero amongst the party that Eddie had been guiding for the past school year.

It could have brought a tear to his eye, knowing that Hellfire had beaten his campaign, and now he was set to walk the stage in a week to graduate.

“That’s why we play!” Eddie declared, dramatically bowing to Erica, who stood proud as the rest of the group high-fived and jumped around.

“Erica, you’re joining Hellfire officially when you get to high school, right?” Will asked.

“We’ll see if I want to join this nerd club in a year.” Erica said, as if that hadn’t been part of the deal with Eddie postponing Hellfire for Lucas’s game.

The night wound down, as members reluctantly were picked up by their parents. Eddie himself was stalling as he cleaned up the board for the last time. He had always known that this day would come, that there would be a last Hellfire meeting, a final campaign, one last adventure. He knew that, but never really believed that it would happen until he was folding up his DM screen and sliding it into his beat up backpack.

Eddie already promised himself that he wouldn’t ever enter the grounds of Hawkins High again once that diploma was in his hands. There had been talk amongst his band-mates about setting up a game for just Corroded Coffin, but nothing set in stone yet.

He watched as most of the group headed up the stairs and towards the door, until it was just the freshmen huddled in a corner and whispering to each other in a hushed and excited tone.

Curiosity got the better of Eddie, it always did. He walked over to the little sheep and crossed his arms. “And what’s the big secret?” he asked.

The boys jumped slightly, and they all looked like they were stuffing something in their pockets or subtly trying to hide something, which only made Eddie more curious.

“We were just deciding who was going to be the dungeon master next semester!” Mike said, a little too fast, but it was a good alibi for now. The older members of the band had never shown too much of an interest in running the game, but Eddie knew that Mike and Will had swapped around being the DM long before joining Hellfire.

This did interest Eddie though, and he was willing to ignore whatever secret that the children were holding for the moment. He knew this was an important decision for the fate of the club. “And who among you thinks they are worthy of being my successor?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dustin took a step forward. “I do.” he said.

Eddie’s lips stretched into a grin as he looked down at his favorite freshman (though he’d never admit it out loud). Had it been up to Eddie, he would have picked Henderson himself. Maybe Will was a close second, with his passion for the game above all else.

“So, Dustin the Bard thinks that he is good enough to tell the tale of Hellfire for the future generations?” Eddie asked.

“I know I’m good enough.” Dustin replied. “I learned from the best.”

Eddie hadn’t expected such a sentiment from the kid, and for a second his expression softened. For the past year, Dustin had constantly talked about how great and amazing Steve Harrington was, practically worshiped the jock much to Eddie’s confusion. But knowing that Dustin really did think highly of him as well, melted a part of Eddie’ cynical old heart.

“When is she coming in anyway?” Will asked, looking at Dustin.

...Who?

Dustin’s head snapped over at Will with a glare, the Byers kid had a shit eating grin.

“She’ll be coming in next week.” Dustin said through his teeth. “But that’s not important right now.”

Eddie didn’t consider himself a nosy person, but he was. He was about to leave Hawkins High and Hellfire forever, and these children were being cryptic and weirder than usual.

Dustin turned back to Eddie. “I’ll be running the next campaign.” he tried again. “I already have a lot of ideas.”

“Well, Henderson, you’re in luck.” Eddie said. “I’ll have some free time on my hands this summer, I think if you’re going to live up to my legacy then you should at least get the proper training.”

Eddie’s mouth was going faster than his brain with the idea. It’s not something that he would have offered to anyone else, and truth be told he didn’t know why he was suddenly feeling the need to hang out with anyone other than his band over the summer.

It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that after he had that diploma in hand he would be even more lost than he was within the walls of this prison of a school. Nothing to do with Wayne talking about getting him a job at the plant after graduation or the fact that suddenly Grant, Gareth, and Jeff had summer plans with their families which would cut into Corroded Coffin’s rehearsal and stage time.

No, it had nothing to do with any of that. It was out of the kindness of Eddie’s heart that he was willing to guide his sheep into one last adventure to prepare them for the new year and new challenges that they would have to face without the mean and scary freak of Hawkins High protecting them. This was all only for the future of Hellfire.

Dustin looked confused, looking to Mike and Lucas for support but they looked like they were holding back laughter.

Were they laughing at Eddie? After all he’d done for them over the past year? Keeping them relatively safe from bullies, letting them join Hellfire?

Lucas slapped Dustin on the shoulder with a smirk. “See you later. Good luck.” he said before him, Mike, and Will practically bolted up the stairs and out the door.

This kept getting weirder and weirder.

“So you want to train me...?” Dustin asked, turning his attention to Eddie after nearly setting the staircase on fire with his glare.

“Think of it like ‘Dungeon Master Boot Camp’.” Eddie said, though he sounded more confident than he felt after that weird exchange.

He couldn’t fully blame the freshmen either, it’s not like he had ever asked to hang out with them outside of school or Hellfire. The closest had been Grant’s birthday party, and the two times they had all gone to the arcade together as a club.

“About that I- uh.” Dustin was holding onto a piece of paper in his hands, fiddling with it. “I’ll actually be living with the person who taught us D&D this summer and they said that they’d help me- but you can help,too!”

Eddie’s face must have betrayed some form of emotion with how quickly Dustin had added in that last part. He tried to brush off that odd feeling of disappointment, it didn’t matter anyway. This was just something Eddie was offering to kill time during the summer due to boredom. No other reason.

“And who exactly taught you to play?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms. It was no secret that the kids knew how to play before joining Hellfire, but he had always assumed that they had learned the same way he had; by sneaking into bookstores and libraries and writing down as much of the rules as he could until he could finally put together enough money to buy his own copy of the players handbook. It hadn’t occurred to him that someone would have taught anyone in that group.

“My cousin.” Dustin said. “She doesn’t live here, but she used to come up for summer break before going to college. My cousin was the one to bring me the books and got me into the game and then we just played a campaign every time they visited.”

There was something about the way Dustin was talking that made Eddie feel like he was trying to hide something from him.

“And so this cousin of yours is coming back to visit for the summer and will be, what, teaching you how to play again?” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“No! No, she’s just gonna run a campaign for us!” Dustin said, incredulously before sighing and showing Eddie the piece of paper that everyone had been poorly trying to hide. He snatched the paper out of Dustin’s hand and looked it over.

It was about the size of a chocolate bar, with ADMIT ONE TO THE CARNIVAL OF LOST SOULS on the front. When flipped over, it looked like an invitation to some sort of demented carnival, with doodles of ghosts and gross clowns and rancid looking carnival food. Dustin's’ address was scrawled in a drippy red ink across the back as well as a date and time.

Eddie was both impressed and confused.

“What is this?”

“That’s the invitation we all got to be part of the campaign.” Dustin said. “My cousin really gets into theme.”

Eddie kept looking at the ticket. It glowed just slightly in the dim light of the drama room. Was that glow paint?

Yes. Yes it was.

“Carnival of Lost Souls.” Eddie read slowly. Was that a new module?

“It’s an adventure they made up. I don’t think they even use any module or even Faerune for the campaigns.”

What kind of blasphemy was this?

“And you want this person to train you to be the dungeon master for Hellfire?” Eddie was unimpressed.

“Yes- I mean no- I-”

Eddie was finding joy in the way Dustin was floundering. The kid was usually quick on his feet and sharp witted, fitting for a bard, but now he seemed backed into a corner.

“Join the campaign.” Dustin finally blurted out. “You don’t get to ever play, right? Come join the campaign and then I can learn from both of you!”

That was a tempting offer. Eddie had been trying to get Corroded Coffin to schedule weekly D&D during the summer, but as it stood they’d be lucky to even meet up for rehearsals.

Eddie looked down again at the ticket. Henderson seemed to really have faith in this person, and when was the last time Eddie got to play outside of the occasional one shot? Very rarely.

“Keep the ticket.” Dustin said. “Just bring that with you and I’ll make sure you get in.”

“Is this a secret club, or something?” Eddie shoved the ticket in his lunch box.

Dustin shrugged “My cousin always likes to go all out.”

“Dustin, you’re mom’s looking for you!” Will called down the stairs.

“Shit. Coming!” Dustin called back up. “Eddie, come join us if you want. I can show you what I’m working on for next year and you can actually play for once.”

Eddie wasn’t given a chance to answer as Dustin ran up the stairs, leaving him alone in the drama room.

He watched the door close and looked around the room that had been a safe-haven for the past few years. It was a bittersweet feeling, Eddie had always hid inside of the game and his band, being given a few precious hours a week to be more than what this school and town thought of him. Here, he could be a hero, a rock star, a somebody. When he finally got that diploma in the next two weeks and ran off that stage, what was Eddie running to?

---

Welcome to my new series! I'm doing a lot of research on D&D and the satanic panic for this, so I hope you all enjoy <3

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction

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