#the way the ending had so many cliffhangers too!!

[aster1sque]

When i thought Netflix couldn’t get worse…they cancel Shadow and Bone AND the Six of Crows spin off

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

I miss my d&d campaign so bad 😢

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Bad for Me — Cassian x Reader

Hi! I found this in my drafts and thought I’d share it while I’m finishing up the next part of Bluebird. I’m not sure why I never posted it 🤔maybe because I don’t think it’s very well written. Also, it seems I was using a prompt list for parts of dialogue in this, but I can’t for the life of me think which one it was 😅but anyway, enjoy an angsty piece with an angsty cliffhanger ending 💅🏻

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: None.

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“What the fuck is this?”

There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t shake with anger as you stormed your way into the sitting room. Anger that had built up and festered as the day had faded into night.

It was late. You’d waited up — waited for the telltale, arrogantly loud footsteps that had announced Cassian’s return. Where he’d been all day, you didn’t know nor care.

Sure enough, you found him in his usual chair by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey rested on the arm and his eyes closed. His fingers rubbed circles into his forehead — a positive sign that he was sporting a particularly gruelling headache.

Good. You would yell into his ear until he launched himself off one of the verandas and flew far, far away.

“What is this?” You repeated, chucking the item you held straight onto his lap.

His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced down impassively. “That’s a piece of paper. It’s useful for writing, or drawing, or—”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

It had surprised you, to say the least, to wake up to the folded note on your bedside table — in Cassian’s rough scrawl.

Find yourself a pretty little dress. Don’t make any plans for Friday next. We’re going dancing. Cassian.

“Explain.” You demanded, your tone clipped. Brash.

You didn’t want to go dancing with Cassian. Or walking, or running, or…anything.

It was bad enough living under the same roof as him. Working in the same circle as him. Bad enough having to be civil in the name of a unified front.

But you were professional. You could pretend to get along in front of people.

That didn’t mean you had to socialise with him, though.

With a sigh, he sat up straighter, brushing his hair back. “Rhys is having me play courtier again.”

Your head cocked to the side. “But you’re so terrible at it.”

The minuscule pause and tick of his jaw told you you’d landed a sure blow. A nervy spot, for Cassian, was certainly his abilities off the battlefield. Why Rhys insisted on sending the General on certain courtier expeditions was beyond your comprehension. And beyond Cassian’s, too, judging by how much he hated it.

You took no small amount of pleasure in that fact. A little payback for all the ways he’d torn you down over the years.

“Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Whatever. Rhys is having me represent him at a fucking ball in the Hewn City and I need a plus-one, so — you’re coming.”

Your shoulders tensed. “Absolutely not. Ask somebody else.”

“There’s no way I’m putting Mor through that. And she’s in Vallahan, anyway.”

“So take Amren with you.”

“Be real, Y/N.”

You stared at him, clenching your jaw. You hated him. Hated him so, so much — loathed him — that you swore your veins turned to ice around him. Ever since you’d met him, and you’d taken one look at him and thought he was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen. 

You’d sworn never to fall in love again, when you’d joined Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and seeing Cassian go through flings like you went through books only solidified that decision.

Hate was a good thing. Hate was something you could pour all your anger into and throw at the person that seeped into your thoughts a little too often.

And dish that hate out you may, but gods Cassian gave it back just as fiercely.

“Ask one of your many lovers.” You spat. “You have your cock in a different female every week. I can’t imagine you’re short on admirers.”

Cassian stretched his arms over his head. “And how many admirers do you have, Y/N?”

You tried your best not to flinch. To let him see the effect his words had on you was as bad as him thrusting a dagger into your gut. You willed yourself to give nothing away.

“Just find somebody else.” You said. “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going anywhere with you, of all people.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your feet and stalked from the room, leaving the note on his lap and your barbed words hanging heavy in the air.

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Three nights later, your bedroom door burst open so abruptly that you dropped your book on your face.

“Pause your masturbation for five minutes.” Cassian’s deep, arrogant voice filled the room. “I have your dress.”

You sat up, your entire body tensing the way it always did in his presence. “What.”

He kicked the door shut behind him, and even in your considerably-sized bedroom, his domineering figure seemed to take up most of the space. He strode to the foot of your bed — and paused, just for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of your nightgown, your unbound hair.

You didn’t have a chance to remark before he straightened himself out and launched a flash of pale pink fabric at you.

“For the ball.” He said. “I checked your size and asked the shopkeeper to pick it out, so…if you don’t like it, I don’t really give a fuck.”

Your eyes fell down to the dress in your lap. Undeniably pretty, with its rosy hue and flaring skirt, thin straps and tiny, beaded jewels. A dress you would probably choose for yourself, if the occasion called for it.

You’d always loved clothes; dresses in particular. The intricacies of certain garments fascinated you, and the thought of creating your own made your heart skip a beat.

You thought you’d feel pretty in this dress; prettier than you usually felt, in your leathers or shirts and breeches. It wasn’t all that often that you had an occasion to dress up for.

But even this gown wouldn’t convince you to accept Cassian’s invitation. Or, rather, his order.

You pushed the dress away from you, though your fingers lingered within the soft fabric. “You’re absolutely fucking insane if you think I’m going to that ball with you.”

Cassian’s eyes fell to where your hands stroked the skirts, before climbing back up to meet yours. The bastard knew what you were feeling. He fucking knew.

“Oh, you so want to.” He smirked. “I can see it in your eyes.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “So it’s a nice dress. I’m sure one of your many sexual escapades would appreciate it.”

The General’s head tilted, a few strands ripping from the loose knot his hair was tied into. “What is it about my sex life that bothers you so much?”

That you’re free to even have such a sex life without judgement. That you will never know what it’s like to be ostracised just for exploring such things. That you can fuck who you like with no repercussions. That it isn’t me you’re—

“Don’t mistake me for someone who gives a shit about anything you do.” You bit. “I just wouldn’t want such a nice dress to be wasted.”

“It won’t be. Because you’ll be wearing it to the ball on Friday.”

“No.” You threw the dress back at him. Picked your book back up. “I will not.”

“I’m going to hang it on the door.”

“Don’t bother.”

He ignored you, of course. The dress was hung. “We’ll be leaving at seven.”

“No we won’t.”

“We will.”

He pulled your bedroom door open, slipping out.

“Cassian?” You called, and there was a strong pause.

He poked his head back in. “What?”

“I’m not going to that damned ball with you.”

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You were going to that damned ball with him.

High Lord’s orders, your ass. You’d kill Rhys for this.

The dress was a perfect fit, clinging to you like a second skin. And as you stared yourself down in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the fabric, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this pretty.

A long, long time ago. A night of passion. A night that would ultimately ruin your life.

You shook the past from your thoughts, straightening yourself out. It was imperative that you wore an unbreakable mask to the Hewn City. One that was steeled and sharp and revealed nothing of the person that lay beneath.

A thump fell on your bedroom door. “We’re going to be late.” Cassian barked.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror. The beads of your dress swished as you moved, and you focused on that, rather than the oaf that was currently trying to break into your room.

Just a few hours, and this would all be over.

“Simmer down, General.” You pulled the door open, stepping out. “I’m ready.”

Cassian stepped back. And stopped.

His hazel eyes slowly traced the length of your body. And despite the fact that he’d griped about being late, he took his sweet time drinking you in.

You waited for the snide remarks. For whatever fault he would surely find with your appearance. But when his eyes landed on your face again, you couldn’t puzzle out his expression.

“Good.” Was all he commented. “Let’s go.”

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“Can you quit your fidgeting?”

Cassian scowled beside you, rolling his shoulders. “The collar on this thing is too tight.”

Your eyes travelled the sculpted length of his body — not for the first time — before you forced them away. He looked…undeniably breathtaking.

His comfort, you knew, was in leathers and body armour. Only on rare occasions like Starfall or Solstice did he swap his usual attire for more casual clothing like button-up shirts and trousers. You couldn’t recall a time you’d actually seen him decked in a tailored suit.

Until now.

The material was of deepest burgundy, outlining — accentuating — every last muscle it possibly could. There was something thrilling about the thought of so many deadly weapons hiding within that dashing attire. Something thrilling about knowing the Lord of Bloodshed walked beside you.

Right now, though, he was the fucking Lord of Complaining and Whining. You rolled your eyes, turning to him.

“What are you doing?” He watched as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes.

“Shutting you up.” You adjusted his collar, ignoring the feel of the backs of your fingers brushing his neck. “Better?”

“Suppose so.” He rolled those shoulders again. He wouldn’t be content until the suit was off him completely.

“Then let’s go.” You currently stood outside the towering gates of the Hewn City, the air always unpleasantly cold in these parts. You took a step forward, your dress swishing along the ground—

A warm, rough hand landed on your arm. Stopped you.

“What?” You glanced at Cassian over your shoulder.

“Rhys is expecting us to represent him.” He said, his hazel eyes strangely fierce. He always got that look when there was a task at hand. “I know we hate each other. And that’s more than fine. But just for tonight, can we pretend that we…don’t?”

You stared back at him pensively. A petty part of you wanted to shrug him off and scoff. To tell him that the unpleasantness with which he’d always approached you had long laid any potential alliance to waste.

But he was right — Rhys was counting on you both. And Rhys had done a lot for you since you’d turned up on his doorstep with barely a coin to your name. For him…for him, you would pretend to enjoy Cassian’s company.

“Whatever.” You shrugged the General’s touch off, turning back around. “Fine.”

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

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You made sure, in your life, that you never had to spend any extended amount of time with Cassian. You tolerated him when you had to, and avoided him the rest of the time.

But you’d been for nights out in the same group, of course. And you’d forgotten how many females tended to flock to his side and fawn over him.

This ball was a sure reminder of that.

You’d barely stepped into the room and grabbed yourselves a drink before groups of females were glancing over and chatting excitedly, shrill giggles floating over to you. It was a mere five minutes before one of them mustered the nerve to ask him to dance, leaving you standing on your own.

It was during that first dance that you decided — you weren’t just going to be civil with Cassian.

You were going to be so sickeningly over the top that he’d have no chance of skulking off with any of those females and leaving you by yourself while he got his cock sucked. Not a chance. If they thought he’d been claimed by another member of Rhys’s Inner Circle, they’d back off; if a little begrudgingly.

So you watched. Waited for that dance to end. Rhys hadn’t given you any specific orders, besides attending on his behalf and keeping an ear out for any gossip. You drank your wine and enjoyed the music, and the second Cassian had an empty space before him, you dipped in before anybody else could.

It seemed to surprise him. He blinked at you, before straightening himself out. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” You grabbed his hand, fastening it on your waist.

“Rhys never said we had to dance together.”

“You want us to get along, Cassian?” The music began, tugging you into movement. “Then let’s get along.”

With the other couples beginning to dance around you, it left no other option than to follow suit and avoid causing a scene. Cassian’s jaw ticked, but he grabbed for your other hand and began to pull you around the dance floor with him. He was no seasoned dancer, by any means, but he displayed more skill than you’d expected.

Another thing you loved — dancing. Feeling like your feet were floating. Once you started dancing, you wanted to keep going and going into you fell off the world and tumbled into a blissful beyond. Nothing else mattered besides the music, the moves.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” Cassian commented, echoing the thoughts you’d had about him.

You shrugged, not misstepping once. “I was forced to take lessons as a girl.”

“I didn’t know that, either.”

“Why would you know? It’s not as though we like each other.”

He spun you around. Dipped you in his arms. “And why is that?”

Laughable, that he was the one to ask that question. “You tell me. You never tried.”

“Is that how it went?”

“It is.”

He stared at you, expression unreadable. No other words were exchanged as one dance came to its end, and the music flowed into the next piece. But you didn’t need words to carry out your plan.

The second you caught a glimpse of hopeful, waiting females in your periphery, you pulled Cassian closer to you once more, your bodies flush against each other.

You may have felt a teensy bit ridiculous as you slipped your fingers into the strands of his hair and brushed it out of his face.

“I like your hair like this.” The words were heavy on your tongue. Not untrue, but…painful to say out loud.

Cass stared at you. “…thank you.”

But his thanks was lost in your satisfaction as the awaiting female disappeared from the corner of your eye, skulking off to sulk, no doubt. It was an effort not to smirk. Still, you righted yourself and continued with your plan.

You made certain that yours and Cassian’s bodies met in all the right places. Very close. Very dangerous.

Perfect — because there were still hopeful, simpering females watching. Waiting for you to walk away.

“Dance with me again.” Your breathy tone wasn’t entirely for show — nor was the hand you trailed down his arm for emphasis.

But Cassian frowned at you. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” Your eyes glittered. “Nothing at all.”

He kept his gaze on you, following you into your second dance. You could have sworn you saw the slumping of many shoulders as you spun around the floor, Cassian’s hands like a burning brand on your skin.

You weren’t even really paying attention to him, simply following the steps mindlessly, until he spoke again.

“That isn’t how it went.” He said.

Your brow furrowed as you spun around. “What?”

In one swift move, he was pulling you against him, pressing your fronts together. “You said I never tried to know you. I refute that.”

You shrugged. “You treated me with the same contempt as the bastards I ran away from.”

“You treated me like I was dirt beneath your shoe and I didn’t deserve the time of day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. That simply was not true. He had always been cocky, and arrogant, and difficult. He acted as though mud wouldn’t stick to him, as though he could do what he liked, when he liked.

Suddenly, you didn’t want to be dancing with him anymore. Didn’t want his hands on you, simpering females or no.

He could go to hell.

“I never thought you didn’t deserve the time of day.” You contested tersely. “I—”

“I know.” He interrupted. Spun you around again. “I worked it out eventually.”

“Excuse me?”

“What your problem is.” Another dip.

You didn’t like this conversation — it’s direction. It would be easier to run away, to avoid it.

Easier, but cowardly.

“Pray, tell, General, what do you believe my problem is?” You stared at him.

He leaned down, just as the music faded. Poised his lips at your ear. “Jealousy.” He murmured, the word seeming deafeningly loud. “Sometimes the way you look at me makes me think that perhaps you don’t hate me that much.”

You knew your body stiffened between you. And as he pulled back and smirked, you also knew that he knew he’d won.

Whatever it was that glittered in his eyes was…knowledge. Knowing. An understanding. And that couldn’t mean anything good for you.

“Cassian?”

The two of you looked up upon the intrusion, only realising then that the music had stopped, and the dancing with it. A doe-eyed girl stared at the General with bright, sparkling hope in her eyes.

“I was hoping I might have the next dance.” She said.

You didn’t care anymore. You barely spared either of them a glance as you let go of Cassian and pushed out of his arms.

“He’s all yours.” You said.

And then you went to find some fresh air.

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“I’ll be sure to tell Rhys that you spent the evening skulking around on your own whilst I did all the posturing.”

You glanced at Cassian out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t interested in a verbal sparring match right now. The night air was pleasant on your skin, and you allowed it to cool your face, your neck. Allowed it to wash away the tension permanently coiled within your veins, if only for a few stolen moments.

“Go ahead”, was the only reply you offered.

Eyes pierced into you as you bathed yourself in the moonlight. Even with your own shut, you could sense Cassian watching, waiting. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anything beyond vague acknowledgement. Not now.

That seemed to fucking torture him.

“What—no smartass response?” He quipped.

“No, Cassian,” you sighed quietly. “No smartass response.”

He paused — seemed genuinely knocked silent for a moment — before he scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. Even in silence, I know you’re up to something. That scheming brain of yours—”

“This scheming brain of mine is exhausted.”

As your eyes flew open, you caught the way he faltered, a slight misstep, the barest ruffling of his wings. For all he was the General of War, the Lord of Bloodshed, you’d also observed him to be a profoundly emotional person. And that emotion sometimes won as he fought to hide it.

This emotion…it was ire. Gone was the sharp-edged teasing. He found issue with your words, and his jaw gave a telltale tick.

“What could you possibly be exhausted by?” he scoffed. “You need only turn up looking like a fucking goddess and people respect you. You’re not some lowly, bastard-born brute. You don’t get sneered at simply for breathing—”

“You believe people respect me?”

“Of course they do!”

“You don’t.”

He stumbled — actually stumbled — and it was only that which alerted you to the way he’d been inching towards you. But his steps faltered, and he gaped at you like your revelation was entirely out of pocket. Like you had no reason to feel that.

“You have never respected me.” You held firm on your point, even if your voice was a tad quieter. “I fled a fucking viper’s den and ran to Rhysand’s court, hoping to find a sense of…of belonging. But you…” A soft, rueful chuckle shuddered out of you. “You have made it your mission to ensure that would not be the case.”

Slowly, Cassian’s brow pinched. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to search for the right words. “That…isn’t how it went…”

“It is,” you shrugged. “You said I treated you like dirt — perhaps, unintentionally, I did. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, because I never expected to flee absolute hell and come face-to-face with a male that I immediately wanted.”

There they were — the words out in the open. The truth wedged itself between you like a glaring, unmissable sign. You had never hated Cassian. Quite the opposite.

“I thought that I would never want another male in that way again.” You revealed hoarsely. “I thought I would live a life content with just…being me. With friends and nothing more. But that first day I met you, I walked in and I…I knew. I felt it.”

Cassian blinked, slowly shaking his head. “What…”

“And then you were so hostile, and I thought that maybe that was a good thing. That it would discourage me from feeling things. But I must be a fucking glutton for punishment, because no matter how cold you were towards me, my feelings only grew. And I tried…I tried so hard to shift them into hate, but I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to. I simply…can’t.”

The way he stared at you…so hardened, so severe…you couldn’t get a read on the reaction. But then…had you ever really been able to get a read on him?

“You were right…what you said about me being jealous,” you swallowed. “I was. I am—”

“That was…just a joke…I was just being a dick—”

“No,” you shook your head. “You were right. I was jealous in there, and I’m always jealous when people flirt with you. When I see you smile at them and joke with them and I shouldn’t wish it was me but I do. These feelings are constant. And that, Cassian…that is why I am exhausted. It’s exhausting for me to know you.”

Silence.

It should have been a relief, to have finally shifted such heavy feelings from your shoulders. But they were like tangible beings, fogging the air around you, wrapping you and Cassian up in a situation that was complicated and ugly and not at all ideal.

You knew he would do nothing with your feelings…except maybe sneer at them, laugh at them, throw them back in your face. You expected nothing from him. And the longer the silence went on, the more you began to wish that you could steal your confessions back. Shove them deep back into that narrow part of your heart that was still capable, somehow, of feeling such things.

You cleared your throat, tweaking the pretty, delicate gloves that covered your hands and forearms. “We should…head back inside.”

You breezed past him, suddenly desperate for the mindless chaos of the throne room. But you’d only managed a few steps forward before Cassian was gripping onto your arm and yanking you back.

Your dress fanned out as he spun you around, and a breath pushed out of you as he slammed you against the nearest wall, the cold brick biting into the fabric of your dress.

Before you could say anything, he was dipping down, his mouth sliding over yours.

Cassian kissed you deeply, punishingly, his lips moulding to yours perfectly. You gasped against him, and his tongue slid into your mouth to dance with yours, his rough, rugged taste invading you.

You’d thought about this moment a ludicrous amount. You’d imagined what the weight of his lips might be like, how perfectly his tongue might duel with yours. Nothing — no amount of imagining — could prepare you for the reality. The sense of rightness as his hand coasted up to clasp the back of your head, his fingers sinking into your hair. He gave a gentle tug, and you moaned in immediate response.

Air, it seemed, was not important. Not as you kissed him back feverishly, gripping at his shirt in an attempt to pull him as close against you as he could possibly get. The press of his hard body against yours was pleasure in itself. You nipped his lip, desperate for more, more, more, and he groaned in response.

This — this could very well spiral out of control, and you would welcome it. You wanted him to tear your clothes off and take you against this wall. You wanted him to make you feel like he wanted you, like it wasn’t exhausting to know him—

But there was suddenly emptiness and coldness. And it took your mind a moment to catch up and realise that he had pulled away.

Not far. Just enough to stare down at you, his deep hazel eyes flaring and furious. His panting breaths sawed out of him, landing directly on your lips and making you desperate for another taste. You tilted your head up—

He shook his head. Stepped back.

“No,” he murmured, voice gruff. “No. You…you are very bad for me.”

Your entire body turned cold at the words. Words that sliced at you, reminiscent of ones you’d heard before. “What?”

“You’re bad for me,” he repeated. “And I am very bad for you.”

“Cassian—”

“Don’t—don’t even say my name.”

With a swiftness that sent a gust of wind rustling the skirts of your dress, he turned, wings flaring and launching him into the star-speckled sky above you. You gaped at his retreating figure, flying off into the night, leaving you alone not only in that courtyard, but in the fucking Court of Nightmares.

Your mouth had turned dry, your skin cold. You lingered out there long after Cassian had flown off, waiting to see if he would come back. Pathetically hoping he would.

He did not.

And as you conceded, slipping your courtier mask back into place and turning to retreat back inside, his words rang like a deafening klaxon in your head.

You are very bad for me.

[dandylovesturtles]

I lied

this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.

Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.

I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!

And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3

CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop

btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!

-----

They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.

He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.

He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.

(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)

It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.

Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.

It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.

The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.

He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.

It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.

And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.

Leo.

Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.

But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.

As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.

A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.

"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.

He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.

"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.

"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."

"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"

"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."

"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"

None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.

"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."

Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He doesn't know what to do other than agree.

-----

"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."

"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.

"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."

"Read the room, Barry," says April.

Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.

Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.

"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"

Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."

"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."

The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.

Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.

Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.

-----

It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.

Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.

"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"

There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.

They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.

But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.

Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.

He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.

-----

They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.

It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.

But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.

Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.

"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."

"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.

Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.

And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.

Raph ignores it entirely.

He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.

"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."

From the looks on their faces, they all agree.

------

The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.

The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.

Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.

"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."

Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.

Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.

It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.

It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.

"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.

They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.

"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."

"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.

"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.

"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.

Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.

"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.

-----

Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.

"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."

"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.

The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.

"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"

"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."

"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.

April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."

Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...

Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.

But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".

Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"

She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."

So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.

Inmate Observation.

"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.

His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.

He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.

Raph throws open the door and marches inside.

"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.

-----

The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.

April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.

Inmate Observation.

He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.

He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.

He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.

The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.

"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."

"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."

"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."

"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.

"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."

Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"

To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."

It's enough of a yes.

Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.

Bishop hisses but does not cry out.

"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.

"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.

Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.

"Raph don't see him," he growls.

"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."

The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.

"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.

"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."

Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"

"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."

Another shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."

Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."

"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."

Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.

-----

When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.

He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.

But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.

The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.

As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.

And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.

Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.

Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.

For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.

"Leo...?"

He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.

Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.

And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.

Leo is alive.

Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.

"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"

So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.

A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.

Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.

Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.

"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."

A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.

And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.

"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."

Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.

Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.

The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.

"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.

"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."

He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.

It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.

Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.

"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.

Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."

"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."

Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.

-----

Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.

When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.

"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.

"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.

"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.

April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.

"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.

"We're really happy to see you, too."

"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."

"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"

"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."

"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."

"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"

April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."

"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.

"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."

"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.

-----

Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.

Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.

Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.

"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.

"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.

There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.

Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.

"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."

Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.

It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.

They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.

Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.

Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.

Behind them, the door opens.

"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.

Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"

"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."

"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.

"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."

"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.

"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.

"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."

"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."

"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.

"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"

"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"

"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.

"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."

He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"

"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."

Mikey gives him the katana.

"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."

"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.

"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."

"We know more about them than you think."

"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"

"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"

Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.

"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."

"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"

"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."

Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."

It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.

But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.

"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."

There's a smile in his tone as he says it.

"Fire at will."

Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.

But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.

For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.

The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.

-----

They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.

He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.

"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"

That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.

He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.

"L-leo!? LEO!"

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3

[rainylana]

“Don’t cry.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.

requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??

Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?

One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.

But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.

You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.

Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.

“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”

“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”

“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.

The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.

“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”

He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.

“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”

You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.

“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”

You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”

He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.

“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”

“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”

You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”

He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.

“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.

“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”

You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”

“Yes, you do.”

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.

You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.

“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.

“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”

Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”

“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”

Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”

“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”

Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”

“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.

“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”

He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.

“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.

“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.

“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”

“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”

Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.

He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.

“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”

You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.

“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”

You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”

He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”

You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.

“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”

It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.

[thatfandomslut]

It's a Competition

Janis Imi'ike / Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Trigger Warnings: girls competing for reader, not a poly story, a cliffhanger ending (two separate fics to follow)

Request:

Can you do a Janis Imi'ike x fem!reader / Regina George x fem!reader where basically they're just competing for the reader bc she's the prettiest/sweetest girl in school

Mean Girls requests open.

There were several differences between Regina George and Janis Imi'ike. For one, Regina was the school 'it' girl, the queen bee of North Shore High School, but Janis was the school resident art freak. Regina was refined and punctual, and Janis was loud and tardy. However, there was one similarity that caused them to hate each other more than they ever had before. They were both crushing on (Y/n), the school resident's nice girl. She didn't have a mean bone in her body while, let's face it, Regina and Janis had many. Still, their attempts at wooing (Y/n) did not go unnoticed by each other.

"Why are you flirting with (Y/n)?" Regina questioned, slamming Janis's locker shut before she could grab her book. Janis swore that Regina almost caused her to lose a finger that day. Regina's perfectly glossed lips adorned a sickly sweet smile as her eyes trailed over Janis menacingly. But, Janis wasn't one to back down from Regina's will. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, looking up at her. "Just so you know, (Y/n) is my future girlfriend, and you aren't going to ever get with her. I'm sorry to be the one to break it to you. You're just not good enough for her."

Janis scoffed at this, crossing her arms. Damian stepped behind her just as Gretchen and Karen found themselves behind Regina. It was as if a turf war was brewing, even if (Y/n) wasn't property. "Right, Regina and you are? Your ego has made your head swell to the size of the Hindenburg blimp. Just a reminder, it caught fire. Just back off." Janis stated, a scowl forming on her face. She didn't care if Regina tried to scare her out of her relationship with (Y/n), it wouldn't work. She had just as much of a chance as Regina. Only, at least Janis wasn't terrorizing the entire campus.

Regina's brow quirked up at Janis's words and her smile fell into a frown as she glowered at Janis intensely. "So, it's a competition then?" She inquired, already knowing that her competitor wouldn't back down. She wasn't going to just allow Janis to ask (Y/n) out without wooing her herself. Regina honestly didn't think Janis had a chance, though. After all, as everyone knew, Regina was hot, rich, and powerful. Janis Imi'ike could not compare to Regina George in any sense. And, if Regina was going to have to prove this, so be it.

A smirk tugged at Janis's lips as she glanced back at Damian who gave her a nod. Leaning against the lockers, she examined the situation she had put herself into. "Yeah, Regina, sure. It's a competition." Janis confirmed, letting the words sink into the air as Regina's face grew a shade of red and anger began to seep into her chest. The tension between them grew thicker after the bell rang. Before a word could be shared between them, Ms. Norbury called them out for not heading to class. Regina sent a final glare Janis's way before Janis opened her locker again to grab her textbook before class. A class that she happened to share with (Y/n).

"I can't believe you challenged Regina George," Damian said as he waited for Janis to collect her things. Neither of them cared too much if they were late for chemistry. Their teacher also didn't care, as long as they made it within the first twenty minutes and weren't loud. Janis snickered at his words causing him to raise his brows at her. "You do realize that Regina is ruthless, right? She's going to make your life a living hell… Again."

Janis narrowed her eyes at him for a moment at the 'again' but sighed softly since she knew he was right. "I'm not going to let her bully me out of my chance with (Y/n). She's not Regina's property, you know?" Janis said, closing her locker and then locking it. She looked over to Damian who was giving her a stare that she knew all too well. "I know she isn't my property, either, and the competition is dumb, but I really like her Damian. I'm not just going to dismiss my feelings just because Regina thinks she is the only one that (Y/n) can date." Janis defended herself, walking to their class. When they entered, Janis immediately smiled at (Y/n) who waved over at her, and Damian had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

Of course, Damian was happy for his friend and (Y/n), even though they weren't official. He genuinely likes (Y/n). She was sweet and kind, and she was everyone's friend. (Y/n) was the perfect floater. The problem was, that Damian couldn't stand Janis starting a competition that was only going to get her in trouble.

The entirety of class for Janis was spent flirting with an oblivious (Y/n) until the bell rang. "What are you going to have for lunch?" She inquired as they walked down the hall. She hoped she could convince (Y/n) to eat lunch with them, however; this plan would soon be thwarted as Regina made her way over with her usual smirk that she wore when she bests someone. Janis wanted to knock the smirk off Regina's face as (Y/n) greeted the blonde happily. If Janis didn't find (Y/n) so cute, she would curse her for her oblivious nature.

"Hey, (Y/n)," Regina all but purred into the girl's ear. The action made Damian and Janis shudder as they looked at each other with two different emotions. Damian looked perplexed while Janis looked annoyed. Of course, Regina would swoop in like that. Janis wanted to curse herself for not asking if (Y/n) wanted to have lunch with her during their class. As predicted, Regina asks her to eat with her, which (Y/n) accepts happily. "Great, I already got you your lunch. Gretchen, Karen, and Cady are already at the table. We can go ahead and meet them there."

(Y/n) gave Janis and Damian a small wave as she followed Regina. Janis was about to groan in disappointment when she realized something. She could have Cady help her cause. That's basically what she was doing already. "What if we got Cady to talk me up to (Y/n)? We can have her tell her how great I am and she'll fall for me." Janis decided with a wide grin before walking into the cafeteria with Damian hot on her heels as he shook his head. Damian wanted Janis to win, too, but she was beginning to get obsessive.

At the lunch table, Regina flirted easily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She made sure to laugh at anything remotely funny that came out of (Y/n)'s mouth as her hand fell gently on (Y/n)'s knee. From her peripheral, she watched Janis's eyes narrow to her. But Regina was unphased as she continued to flirt shamelessly. It was no secret from the school that (Y/n) was the girl who held all of Regina's attention and affection, that is why she found it even more infuriating when Janis decided that she should also flirt with (Y/n). But Regina worked too hard to allow Janis to win this stupid competition of (Y/n)'s heart.

"You look really pretty in that pink sweater, (Y/n). It really brings out your eyes." Regina stated, running a hand down (Y/n)'s arm gently. She was definitely more of a hands-on flirt versus Janis's approach of standing six feet away and pining. Regina decided that she had this competition in the bag as long as Janis stayed her six-foot distance. "Maybe we can go shopping this weekend. I have so many outfit ideas for you if you'll allow me to pick out some outfits for you."

(Y/n) smiled a bit, not backing away from Regina's touch, but she also didn't know that Regina was flirting with her. To be frank, she didn't even notice Janis flirting with her in their chemistry class. "I can see if my mom would be okay with me going. I wouldn't mind the hangout. I just don't know if my mom and I have the funds to actually buy anything right now. We're saving up for my Spring Fling dress." (Y/n) spoke thoughtfully, shrugging a bit. Her mom didn't want her to work during school so she could study and have fun. There was always the summer if (Y/n) chose, but she wasn't forced to.

Regina waved her hands as if she was swatting an imaginary fly as (Y/n) spoke. "No, no, I would buy you the outfits. You won't have to worry about a thing." Regina is a big spoiler. Even if she came off as mean, she bought various gifts for her friends. It was her giving love language, gifts. Though, if she is receiving love, she prefers words of affirmation. With her father's credit card, she was unstoppable when it came to buying the best gifts for her friends. She even took Cady shopping so she would stop looking like she was mirroring the 2010 fashion statement of flannels. Now, Cady looked amazing. However, (Y/n) already looked amazing, she just wanted to spoil her.

(Y/n)'s cheeks tinged pink as she looked down slightly. "Regina, I can't take your money." She said softly, staring at a spot on the floor. She didn't want to disrespect Regina's offer, but she also wasn't the best at receiving gifts. It made her feel bad.

Regina gently took (Y/n)'s chin with her finger and her thumb, allowing her to have (Y/n) look up at her. "It's no trouble at all. Maybe, we can exchange an outfit for one of those cute sweaters you crochet. Would that be a good deal for you?" Regina questioned, knowing that (Y/n) loved to crochet cardigans and sweaters. It was a win-win. She got to spoil (Y/n) and receive something sweet and homemade from her in return. Regina felt satisfied with her deal-making skills. It seemed (Y/n) did, too, as she simply nodded in Regina's touch.

"Okay, we can do that." She agreed with a kind smile. The kind of smile that made Regina's icy heart melt with warmth. She let go of (Y/n)'s chin gently before glancing at Gretchen and Karen. Gretchen was intentionally looking in every other direction than theirs as Karen sat there with a wide smile, watching the exchange, and Cady was just staring at the table not knowing what to do. As the bell rang, signaling that lunch was now over, Regina gave (Y/n) a hug as they separated from their classrooms. Regina cursed whoever made their schedules so opposite as she headed to the opposite side of the building from her.

As Regina walked away with Gretchen, Cady, and Karen behind her, she abruptly stopped, almost causing a collision. "This weekend, I'm going to ask her to Spring Fling." She said with a small, determined smirk playing on her lips. Regina wasn't going to allow Janis the opportunity to steal whatever was building between her and (Y/n), and she was going to make the first move. "Checkmate, Janis Imi'ike." She muttered as she entered her history class. Cady glanced at Regina before looking back to where they had just left (Y/n) behind for her class.

Cady Heron was now the person who either helped Regina or Janis accomplish their goal of asking (Y/n) to be their girlfriend officially. She knew she needed to get ahold of Janis as soon as possible, wanting to help her friend. She wasn't sure exactly who to be loyal to, but she knew that Janis at least deserved to hear Regina's plan so she could come up with her own. As her loyalty wavered with Regina, it strengthened with Janis as she texted her once she sat down for her class.

Regina's Ending | Janis's Ending

[darkcircles4lyfe]

it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

[fabulouslygaybean]

hi y'all. im sorry ive been off tumblr lately but im here. also i just finished the final ep of stranger things 4 and i have heavily mixed feelings

[ivysangel]

crying and starving..need jayroy..threesome..!!! save me!!!

(the way a jayroy threesome would actually fix me like hmmm let's take a little visit to the roommates!au !! also thank u for this ask lumi my beloved. a study needs to be done on how you keep curing my writers block)

you hadn't known them as long as they had known each other, and when you initially moved in, you'd felt like an outsider, wondering if it was too late to find another set of roommates with less history between them. somehow, you ended up being the missing piece in their friendship, and so the three of you evidently found a home in one another. in the apartment you shared, the couch you'd fallen asleep on many times waiting up for them, the kitchen jason’s banned you two from after you almost set the house on fire when he was out town, the bottle of shampoo you bought for one that was now shared between three. articles of clothing that no longer had one owner, the surplus of snacks in the cabinet that never seemed to run out or even run low. it's in the stolen bites of food, the hamper that never gets too full, the tv show you know you could've finished ages ago if it hadn't been for the promise that you wouldn't watch if all three of you weren't together; and you kept your promise. even when they were gone for weeks, radio silent, leaving you with a godawful cliffhanger to think about until they returned bruised and blooded, but eager to find out which character was getting killed off next. and return they did, tired and in pain; so you waited even longer until the night they both joined you on the couch, roy taking the remote and finding where you left off while jason made some popcorn in the kitchen.

it was in the way those tv show catch ups often ended with you naked, purple marks littered across your body, legs shaking, and tears streaming down your face. people talking on the tv still playing in the background, but you could barely hear it over the lewd sounds of the two men fucking you. starting with roy in your mouth and jason in your pussy until he got his fill, or as much as he could before roy started complaining that he was being a hog, and then switching places. now you lay on the couch, back flat against the soft cushions as roy holds himself above you, palms leaving indents in the sofa while he fucks you deep, and jason's got your head turned, cheek pressed flat against the plush cushion, as he rocks his hips into your mouth back and forth; the sensations of both overwhelming you as you start to approach your third orgasm. it was always a game between them to see which one could put you over the edge first; which nipple pinch or brush against your clit made you start shedding tears and beg for a break. they'd argue about it for days after too, even going as far as to ask you who the victor was, and each time, you'd tell them it was both. the way they'd fold you like a pretzel, the feeling of them alternating between fucking and teasing you, the lockjaw you got after giving them head, their muscles underneath your fingernails as you dug into their skin, searching for something to ground you, and the tickle of their hair when they got really close to your neck. the way jason's cum was thicker and roy's load was heavier, but they both ended up inside you almost every night before you were cleaned off and showered with praise. you may not have known it a few months ago but you definitely knew it now; it would always be the both of them for you, and it would always be you for both of them.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Time to be delulu yet completely serious on my bnha 423 opinions.

Good points: The resolution between AFO and Yoichi was satisfactory, love as a reason for evil and evil deeds, the rooftop trio having one final moment full of emotion, the moment of Kurogiri thinking about Tomura and the LOV, Deku having a quirk of his own born out of determination and hard work, Deku as the protagonist of bnha in general, Tomura's last actions and words.

Bad points: Rushed arc conclusions, moments that felt kinda repetitive or lacked the punch given that we've seen/lived them before, not the best compositions we've seen from Horikoshi on the panels, Tomura's arc being rushed to a martyr ending— for impact???? ( or it ending on another cliffhanger that is gonna turn to be different from what we expected ).

I'll go in depth, so please check under the cut.

GOOD POINTS:

Yoichi and AFO:

The last conversation among these brothers was everything I was expecting. The love was there and it transformed them. It made AFO a monster and Yoichi a ghost.

For me, this time the AFO ending needed to be quick because we've already said goodbye to him too many times. This was supposed to be about AFO's refusal to give up on his brother and the unresolved relationship of those two.

I really liked how Yoichi reminded AFO that he needs to face the consequences of his actions and that he's love won't be able to save them.

Villain love:

Love as a reason for pain and destruction is perhaps one of my favorite tropes. So many stories approach love as this purely morally good feeling, when in the end it is just like any other feeling, you know?

People go to war for love all the time. They kill for love. Die for love. Do unforgivable things for love. Human existence is sooooo complex, why would love be the exception?

Horikoshi has been REALLY careful with the AFO backstory and his motivations. He didn't want an antagonist that felt empty. He made AFO human without redeeming him, okay? Because our ability to sympathize with some of AFO's traits doesn't make him less evil. To put it simply, it means that evil things are also human at heart.

Even those acts that you can't forgive or forget are motivated by something.

Kurogiri and the rooftop trio:

We knew from the beginning they were not the main characters of this manga.

We've gotten their story through glimpses and moments. Their time together had always been somehow rushed. Too many things to say, not enough time and they are on opposite sides of the war after all.

We knew that Kurogiri would go back because we knew he would protect Tomura during the final fight. We knew that he'd help the heroes defeat AFO. We knew he'd have to make his choice and say his goodbyes to his old friends.

Kurogiri, Tomura and the LOV

"He's friends are waiting" along with the image of Spinner asking Kurogiri to bring Tomura back to them was the highlight of this chapter for me. (You all expected it, right?)

Something about the way it reads like a father who wants his son to live because he is being waited for. He has friends who love him and would do anything to protect him, see him safe and sound. Something about the symbolism of Spinner putting Father (aka Kotaro's hand) on Kurogiri's face as he asked for it.

This chapter acknowledged that Kurogiri and Shirakumo share the same character core. They are always the protectors, the ones who would sacrifice themselves to see their charge survive. Similar to how Mic was waiting for Shouta so Shirakumo made sure that Shouta would survive, Kurogiri wants to do the same for Spinner and Tomura.

This alone would require an entire post to elaborate.

Deku's quirk:

The debate between endgame quirkless Deku or endgame OFA user Deku is settle.

I really liked that Deku got a quirk on his own that was born out of his own determination to be a hero. It's a nice representation of all he is as a character and what he stands for. Similarly, I enjoyed a lot the fact that it was short-lived. I'm the type who likes it better when things require a sacrifice or when miracles have their own conditions.

Deku doesn't feel overpowered to me. You get that sense that he really deserves everything he has and that it hasn't been a nonsense gift from the narrative. There's also the human condition, the limitations that keep him grounded.

Bnha and Deku:

Deku defeating AFO 'cause villains and heroes help him, his friends being there for him and being there to cheer for him as he fights, his sensei being there despite the fact that Aizawa at first thought Deku wouldn't make it— all the details that make bnha what it is.

They were good.

The UA kids really keep the story consistent when it is about them. They don't give up on anyone, they fight for each other, they stay to witness things for themselves. I love them <3

Tomura's last actions and words:

Careful here. Listen to what I'm saying.

If the narrative had pointed out to this ending, this would have been a good way to execute it.

Tomura coming back along with the vestiges to pack one final punch to defeat AFO— I know many fans that would be moved to tears and would be super excited to see it. Tomura was on point in this chapter, dialoguing with Deku without the hatred in his heart, his face being clearer and almost tender.

He felt defeated, like he had accepted his death already. There's also the connection to Kurogiri and Nana (who defended him) and his words to Spinner, that are meant as a general message to depict how much Tomura values the LOV.

Even the fact that AFO kept him around 'cause a part of him loved / cared about Tomura feels fitting, but I'm not sure if I correctly read the leaks in that part...

Anyway, we got the old trope of the antagonist who used his last moments to help defeat the real villain. It serves as his redemption and the expectation is for the public to feel sorry bad for him.

BAD POINTS

Rushed conclusions:

In my opinion, this chapter was too fast paced and therefore was not as emotional as it should have been.

It doesn't give the feeling that it's fast because the battle is intense. It gives the feeling of too much information packed on one chapter, so nothing really shines on its own. It's way too informative, not enough action narration.

Like I said before, the fatal mistake of a story is to be boring. Art has to provoke you, it has to engage with you, question you, awake things in you. This chapter tho, many things happened at the same time and it grew a bit murky.

Repetitive moments

Again, personal opinion here.

I think certain bnha movies were a mistake. Not because they were bad or boring or whatever, but because Horikoshi wrote parts of bnha real ending into them to the point you'd say "we've already seen that" while reading bnha 423.

Deku and Bakugo teaming up to defeat AFO was so expected. Not as in "the narrative is making sense", but as in "we saw it on heroes rising".

I feel the same with the students all appearing to help Deku fight AFO. That's a typical shonen structure where the friends making space for the protagonist to reach the main villain. It was already happening, so why bring AFO back?? I think the story is over-explaining here, making everything way too obvious. We could have had AFO's resolution with Yoichi before and the students moment after. In truth, it feels like Horikoshi closed some character arcs before he should and left plot holes without explanation, so he needed to reopen to accommodate.

Panel composition:

I admire Horikoshi when it comes to panel composition. He has some amazing panels that make the story really flow, but bnha 423 isn't there.

There are too many elements clustered and empty spaces that don't feel with purpose (in manga, even the blanks must have a purpose). This chapter should have been at least two, so you wouldn't have to rush Bakugo appearing, Yoichi and AFO resolution, Kurogiri saying his goodbye to the rooftop trio and facing AFO for Tomura's sake, Deku remembering where he started and where he is, Tomura last words and the Tomura and Deku resolution...

Those are too many important plot points to illustrate in a hurry.

Also?? The panel of Tomura and Deku punching AFO is so unserious. Totally wrong place to be funny sjbdjdnd why does it even feel like the vestiges are punching air???

" Tomura's ending " :

I'm not the first to say it feels anticlimactic and as if it isn't the ending at all.

The major problem is that through the manga, Horikoshi has focused a lot on Tomura as a character, carefully developing him, giving him tropes that are often reserved for the hero or the main character, making sure we empathize with him, we understand him, hyping up Deku's journey to rescue him.

We got an entire arc from the LOV perspective. This is not the type of one sentence ending you give to an antagonist you spent so much ink and sweat on. The nonchalant way of Tomura accepting his death? The little reaction from Deku? What was the purpose of the manga building up the LOV friendship to the moment where Kurogiri told AFO that Tomura's friends were waiting for him, if you'd make him just disappear on thin air?

This reads absolutely like a bunny within a hat.

That's being optimistic.

If we want to be cynical, maybe this is all there is. I don't find it readable to end the story with Tomura dying. All that effort to save him and it ends in "oh well, he decayed along with AFO"?!

If you think about it, Toga status is unknown because we don't even know where she went or if she's still alive, Touya status is also unknown although we know he wanted to live and that the ice prevented him from further damage, we haven't seen Spinner, we don't know if Kurogiri vanished with that last attack on AFO and now we saw Tomura decaying into the wind.

Yo kill half the surviving LOV would be a bold move that wouldn't follow the narrative. The reward for the hero students should be being able to save their counterpart, so the world can regard them as the greatest heroes 'cause they save the unsalable and blah blah blah.

There's also the fact Tomura hasn't been saved yet. Tenko? Nana and Deku saved him from Kotaro. The crying kid? Saved from AFO by Deku and the vestiges and the others. Tomura? Nop, he's dying/dead. The one person Spinner really wanted to save was Tomura. He didn't know about the crying kid or Tenko. He wanted to save his friend, the "irredeemable" villain, the young man he played videogames with and fought alongside and vowed to follow.

If this is the end, it's incomplete.

So we might hope it is not the end.

[beepboopkek]

— Strip Starchess Part 2 (F!Reader)

Including: Jing Yuan x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !! , afab!reader, pwp but barely, Jing Yuan is a little bastard (affectionate), stripping (who would've guessed), possible grammatical errors(I tried), Jing Yuan calls you pet names (dear), no use of y/n, kind of . left at a cliffhanger, pu$$y eating, 0rga$m denial (only one time), edging, possessive jing yuan, he goes a little feral, safe sane and consensual w/c: 2.2k a/n: hello I'm back with my jing yuan word vomit I hope u guys like this... i forgot anon's name but they gave me the idea so I went with it but after some time it was getting too much so I'm jus leaving it at this.. don't need to make full-fledged smut drabbles anyway :D thank u anon u a real one fr fr also amab version is also posted !!!!! hope u guys like this :3

The conditions for this game of Strip Starchess were different.

Way too different.

You had established a few rules between the both of you, the main one being that— accessories or anything removable on your or the general’s body were officially counted as an article of clothing and,

The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

Jing Yuan's smug suggestion, much to your annoyance.

Yet, you reluctantly ended up agreeing.

You sat comfortably on the floor cushion as you waited for your husband to come home, excitement bubbling through you as you thought of your little plan.

You're going to win this time.

To start the plan, the first thing you did was to wear as many accessories as possible, you're sure you'll one-up him this way. 

The second phase of your plan, however, would begin during the game.

You busied yourself on your phone when you heard the door to your house shutting close and the rustle of clothes.

Jing Yuan rounded the corner and smiled at you, noticing the anticipation on your face and the impatient tapping of your hand.

“Well, someone's excited to lose.” 

“You bet! Wait, who said I'm losing? We're on equal footing this time, you're not getting out of this one.”

You folded your arms and huffed proudly, so sure of your upcoming victory.

“I'm not going to go easy on you.”

“You said that last time, dear, do you need a reminder of how that ended up for you?” 

The game hadn't even started and he was already pulling out his tricks.

You were not going to lose.

Jing Yuan quickly settled down, listening patiently as you stated all the rules this time, not wanting to repeat the mistake you made in the previous game.

There were only 2 matches this time, a third only if there's a tie which made it a bit … difficult for your husband.

Not because he thought he would lose but more so because he loved your enthusiasm to beat him in the very game he had mastered since a young age.

… He'll go easy this time, that's decided.

The first match started with vigour, both of you moving your pawns back and forth to avoid losses.

Eventually, the match ended with you as the loser, even though Jing Yuan tried to leave obvious spots for you, he still got you in a checkmate.

You were down a few accessories, nothing too bad,

The second phase of your plan to win begins soon.

With the second match starting, you decided to be more aggressive while playing, granting you a few of Jing Yuan's pawns and of course, the sight of a-few-trinkets-less General.

Your luck ran out just as fast as it came, though.

In Jing Yuan's words, time for the Masterstroke.

“Oh, looks like I have to remove another accessory, that's a shame.” 

You looked at your hand, excitement bubbling in your chest as you tried not to giggle at what you were about to do next.

You raised your dominant hand where your husband could see it and slipped off your wedding ring, before looking him right in the eye.

“Is it my turn?”

Jing Yuan narrowed his eyes.

“ …Yes.”

You played excitedly, this is going just as planned.

You knew that if you took off the ring, his attention would immediately be drawn to why you took it off and leave him more susceptible to losing.

Turns out, you were very wrong.

Jing Yuan straightened up, his once pleasant smile drawn into a frown now, he looked at the board for a second and before you could blink, he played his move.

You were taken aback, definitely, you hadn't expected him to be paying more attention to the game now.

Not a problem, though. You had a few other tricks up your sleeve.

You took a while to play your move as Jing Yuan stared at you silently.

He lost a pawn. 

Jing Yuan removed his hair ribbon and played his move before you could even process the fact that he had his hair loose.

This being the last game, you played as cleverly as you could, dodging his attacks to the best of your ability. However, when you lost a pawn you would deliberately remove the specific accessories that your dear husband had lovingly gifted you.

But, somehow— your plan was working against you.

Jing Yuan had barely spoken a word since you took off the wedding ring, only giving you a tight-lipped smile when you made a joke, nodding or replying in hums when you talked.

The second match ended just as quickly as it had started and to no one's surprise, you lost.

Is it too late to start rethinking your decision?

You glanced at the board and back at Jing Yuan, who finally smiled at you warmly.

“The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.”

You paused.

“Those are the rules, yes, but! You forget that the winner is decided by how many accessories or clothes they have on.” 

“Count.”

You began tapping the few garments and trinkets around your body, silently counting them in your mind.

“Loudly.”

“ … There's six in total.”

“You've lost.”

“No way! Count everything in front of me right now, I know you've cheated!”

You were exasperated, there's no way you lost, Jing Yuan looked empty enough.

Right?

“Nine in total.”

The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

You sighed as Jing Yuan only smiled back at you in pure amusement. Damnit. You can't be a sore loser.

You raised your hands in defeat, pouting as you saw his face light up.

“Do as you please, general.”

Jing Yuan chuckled at that, moving across the floor and picking you up, standing as he slung your body over his sturdy shoulder and moved towards your shared bedroom.

“Oh, wow! Do I get the privilege of a bed this time? I am most grateful, general.”

You teased playfully, grabbing at his loose hair and gently tugging a few strands.

There was a light slap to your ass, you squeaked in surprise— just about to start voicing your complaints when Jing Yuan spoke first.

“Trying to butter me up, hm? I'm afraid you won't get anywhere with that. You've invited more than enough trouble for yourself already.”

You huffed, he saw through all of your tactics.

“By doing what, exactly? Losing? Shouldn't you be happy about that?”

Jing Yuan gently dropped you onto the large bed, your soft body sinking into the mattress as your legs dangled off the edge.

He towered over you, placing his hand in his pocket, digging for something.

“No.”

You folded your arms to your chest and raised an eyebrow– probing him to speak more.

He dug out a ring from his pocket, along with the long red ribbon he had taken out of his tied hair earlier and held up both items.

“You took off your wedding ring.” 

Jing Yuan got onto the bed on his knees, leaning down to cage you between his arms as he looked into your eyes.

“—and I will not let that pass.”

You laughed, throwing your head back on the bed as you struggled to breathe.

“So, that's what you're upset about?”

Jing Yuan pouted, his long hair pooling over his shoulders, almost touching you.

You giggled as you clasped your hands behind his neck, pulling his face down and stopping it right before your lips touched.

Jing Yuan’s breath hitched at the action, his face dusted with a light shade of red.

“What are you going to do about it, general?”

You smirked as you saw his eyes narrow, just about to give another snarky remark when he sealed your words with his mouth, kissing you passionately. You fisted his hair and kissed him back, heat simmering through your body as thoughts flooded your mind.

He pushed you further up the bed as he settled in between your legs and kissed you like he needed air, departing from your lips with heavy pants and creating some distance between the two of you to pull you to sit up.

“Hold out your hands and cup your palms together.”

You obeyed instantly, unsure of what he was about to do but not willing to test his patience further.

He placed the wedding ring in your hands before speaking again,

“Now, interlock your hands.”

You did as you were told again, the cold metal biting into your skin, you looked at him with confusion written all over your face. 

Before you could speak, though, Jing Yuan raised the hand holding his hair ribbon and wrapped it around your wrists.

“Jing Yuan!”

He ignored your exasperated voice as he continued to bind your forearms together. 

It didn't really reach your elbows, it wasn't long enough for that but it definitely restricted your movement, especially with the tightness Jing Yuan had kept.

Satisfied with the makeshift arm bound he had made, he sat back on his knees and looked at you with amusement.

“If that ring slips out of your hands, we'll stop.” Jing Yuan sealed your lips with a devouring kiss again, pushing you back to lie down on the bed as he tore the few clothes you had of your body, throwing the shreds as they scattered around your room. He pushed your bound hands above you, kissing down your throat and sucking in all the places he knew you wouldn't be able to cover up the next day.

“Jing Yuan— My clothes! They’re my favourite—fuck— why did you tear them off?” You could barely concentrate, your husband's hands roamed your body like they were almost destined to do so— touching, groping and feeling each part as you shuddered in his hold. “I’ll buy you new ones—”

He bit down on a nipple, eliciting a sharp cry from you. “—I’ll buy everything for you so that you can wear it and everyone knows you’re mine—mine and only mine.”Oh, you fucked up. Big time. You had never seen Jing Yuan this possessive over you. Over the wedding ring?

Your string of thoughts is cut off as you feel Jing Yuan grab the back of your thighs and curl his hands around them, proceeding to lick a wet stripe up your sticky folds, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden contact.

When exactly did he get down there? Jing Yuan buried his face into your pussy, moaning at the tangy taste as he dipped his tongue inside you. Your bound hands came down towards his head, just about to release them from the firm hold you had kept them in for aeons-know-what reason when your husband pulled away completely.

“Watch the hands, dear.” You groaned in frustration this time, pouting at him as best as you could being completely at his expense. “C’mon, Yu! You weren’t serious about that, were you?” “Oh, very serious.” Jing Yuan dipped down again to kiss the inside of your thighs, moving his face closer. “If that ring slips out of your hold, I’ll leave you here.” A blow of cool air on your clit made your body jerk in response.

“I'll untie your arms and bind them to the bed instead. So you'll be left here, dripping onto the sheets while I go cook us some dinner. How does that sound, hm?”

Jing Yuan spoke in a low voice, right against your pussy, which was, to your annoyance, visibly wet.

Bastard.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

You grumbled something back in response.

A nip to your folds, granting him another jerk of your body.

“I didn't quite catch that, dear.”

You whined and clasped your interlocked hands tighter, feeling the metal of the ring that had now become warm from your heated skin. You moved them back to their original position– above your head. “I'll be careful— Just– don't stop, please.”

You could feel the general's smile before he placed a gentle kiss on your clit. 

“Good job.”

Jing Yuan went back to enthusiastically eating you out, dipping only the tip of his tongue inside you before pulling his mouth back up to stimulate your clit.

You were beyond embarrassed, having no way to cover your moans. You still tried to suppress the sounds, biting your bottom lip as you threw your head back.

Jing Yuan was having none of that, though. After being with you for so long he knew you had a habit of shying away from making noises.

Making noises for him.

He gripped one thigh harder in warning only to feel your pussy clench around his thick fingers at 

that.

A warning. 

Your climax was building up rapidly, your ability to soften your moans reducing as you unabashedly whimpered out Jing Yuan's name.

“I'm about to—” 

and suddenly, it's like Jing Yuan never existed between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

…Fuck.

Your body heaved as your ruined climax started simmering down.

“Jing Yuan!” 

“Yes, dear?” 

His sing-song voice came out above you, he was still seated on the bed, right beside your spread legs. The only difference? He had taken away all the stimulation right before you came.

You panicked for a second, thinking you lost the ring and opened up your palms a little to see if it was still there.

Yep, still there.

Jing Yuan laughed, moving to place a kiss on your head as you pouted at him.

“Such an obedient little thing, aren't you?”

“The ring is still there, why did you—”

Jing Yuan gave you a smug smile this time.

Oh dear.

“The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.”

[pascals-doll]

DISPO

ellie williams x reader

『••✎••』 finally, time for date night. ellie takes you out to the busy city for a beautiful dinner that turns unraveling in many different ways. | WC: 9.0K

ೀ THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE

SERIES MASTERLIST

ೀ PSA I LEFT YALL ON A CLIFFHANGER SORRY 👀 PLS DONT HATE ME

ೀ HEAVY FORESHADOWING ID SAY 😭 dispo is such a masterpiece of a song like can i eat the song ?

ೀ description: MODERN AU! CONVERSATIONS ABOUT HARD TOPICS (immigration, family death, bonding over trauma), HOMOPHOBIA AT THE END! IF THIS TRIGGERS U I ADVISE U NOT TO READ!TOXIC BEHAVIOR FROM EX SUGGESTIVE CONTENT ONLY! latina!reader, heavy description of reader having bronze/tawny skintone, mentions of smoking weed, mentions of reader’s insecurities, reader speaks spanish!, bff!dina, latino parents chismiando, brief background on toxic relationship, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, immense flirting, heavy makeout sesh, groping, no use of y/n (use of mama, bonbóm)

CHAPTER THREE

ellie made her way back to the repair lot like she had just won the lottery.

all she did was throw the plastic store-bag onto Joel’s work desk the second she got back into the garage, completely ignoring Joel.

she immediately whipped out her phone to open your contact that she had been dying to open ages ago.

“earth to ellie williams-miller!” joel semi-shouts in an attenpt tone get her attention.

ellie was too busy typing her fingers away.

gatúbela 💋

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

u will be seeing me there as a customer alot more ⤶ 6:00 PM

✉️ ᴮᵉᵉᵖ..! one messageˎˊ˗

6:02 PM ⤷ i can get used 2 u as a regular ;)

ellie was cheesing at her phonescreen like a kid with their first phone.

can i call u later tonight? ⤶ 6:04 PM

6:05 PM ⤷ yess ill lyk when i get off work

get home safe ⤶ 6:06 PM

6:07 PM ⤷ ay ay captain 🫡

you both went home that night to enjoy a 3 hour phone call.

you both didn’t get any rest that night.

every morning felt like a blessed morning, especially waking up to a text from miss Ellie Williams-Miller.

you had learned her full name when you exchanged each other’s a few nights ago during your endless phone call with the inamoratà.

she was chivalrous and sweetly coltish.

she captivated you in such a manner, you never thought you could feel so whole before.

she had you smitten and you didn’t even notice.

Dina didn’t miss a single second of every moment. the way she couldn’t tear you away from your phone even during your shared daily binge of ‘Vanderpump Rules’ together.

Dina will never forgot that night you came back to Dina’s apartment from working at the convenience store. you had came through the front door, dropping your purse on the ground before screaming like bloody-murder.

Dina ran out of her room frantically to find her bestfriend capering around before twirling with her hands in the air “okay okay! just needed to get that out ma’system!” you exhale out, stopping in place like you were im the middle of a stage; performing.

you connected your excited eyes with Dina’s “are you on crack?” Dina asks you jokingly.

you chuckled “you won’t believe who just happened to walk up into store!” your question being rhetorical as your face beamed as you throw yourself onto her couch.

“i’m listening!” you spent the entire night, staying up and talking to Dina about how Ellie just managed to run into where you work.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

all of your mornings for a month now have consisted of dulcet messages from ‘green eyes’. you refer to the contact you gave her.

you would wake up and do your usual morning routine which now had one extra add-on to every part of your routine.

each moment was complimented by a graceful reminder of Ellie as you woke with a ping from your phone; knowing it was her.

she would call you while you made breakfast and ever since, she face-timed you once on accident in the middle of your morning toke; she now calls every 12 pm to smoke with you through face-time.

you both only really had time to talk as you both got busy quickly. especially since you learned that working at Joel’s car-shop is very time-consuming, ellie went on about one day.

Ellie moved to your hometown from Jackson five years ago which completely explained the country accent she carried in her voice.

she emphasized on how Joel got a job opportunity to be able to open up his own shop with his brother that had moved out here with his wife.

she told you about how moving to help him by working at the car-shop taught her a lot of patience. Ellie was very patient and percise about the things she did, it became a habit to do even outside of work.

ellie was probably also one of the greatest listeners you’ve ever met because when she listened, she understood.

she understood you.

even if it was through the phone, depicting her facial expression through a pixelated screen. ellie’s facial expressions never faltered from intentive and enthralled.

she understood the fact that when you told her you lived with your parents still.

how personally, you just couldn’t call all those times she asked as you were dying to answer.

she never pushed for questions out of you, allowing you to give her any information you chose to give her.

she just complimented you almost like it was perfect.

although she approached you with a more somewhat open-book while you reserved yourself a bit more, Ellie didn't mind it at all.

she was patient. very patient.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

you both had planned to go out together ages ago but it felt like the universe just loved to fuck with you.

the day you were supposed to go on the date with Ellie. you had spent your entire morning on Face-Time with Dina, trying to find out what to wear.

you had told your mom you were going out with a new friend you made last night. of course, latino parents cant help the chisme.

“si si, no, estoy feliz de que ella empiece a sentirse mejor después de ese chico ay,”( yea yea, no, im glad shes starting to feel better after that boy, ay)

“sí, saldrá con un amiga esta noche, está muy emocionada!” (yes, shes going out with a friend tonight, shes really excited!)

why was this bad? well because somehow-someway during all the chismiando between your family, it got to your ex’s family.

this later on resulted to him showing up to your work, trying to find you to talk fifteen minutes after you had just clocked out. you end up getting a call from your tía saying that "he needed to talk to you" which only made your heart anguish.

needless to say, the families were still in-close contact even with the messy break-up. the only reason is because you basically grew up with your bitch-ass ex.

he was your family friend for so many years, but it was so cute and innocent the little crush you had on him for years. you even went to the same schools together; both of your parents wanted you together, in a sense.

it was planned and as you got older, you began to realize.

he was your first everything.

anything you could think of, he was the one to cross it off your list. you can't say you regret it or anything because it was a love that festered for ages between the both of you. you just couldn't compare your relationship with him to much other romantic experiences.

he was all you knew.

while you all the people you knew were hooking up, experiencing different 'situationships'.

you didn't feel left out because it wasn't the 'hooking up and different talking stages'. it was the fact that the times that your ex did leave you; stating he needed a 'break' to do god knows what...

the 'men'.... if you could even call them that by the way they handled themselves. they weren't worthy, not even a moment of your time.

it was tiring and you found your eye-candy would be women, but you were too oblivious to know. you wouldn't realize the lingering stares and double-takes you would do whenever you found a woman attractive without thinking.

that being said, before time came to close of going out on that date with the woman you had growing adoration for because of how panicky you grew.

you hated breaking the news to Ellie, having to tell her family came up although you ended up calling her an hour later till midnight.

you were beyond alarmed now, knowing your ex had tried to reach you.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

regardless of all the 'bullshit' and Ellie picking up extra hours at the shop, you both finally were going on that date.

a part of you was slightly grateful for the delay, you got to be in her presence more; getting the chance to learn more about her.

you had spent the whole week preparing yourself. you didn't need any help getting ready, you were a pro in that department. you were mentally preparing yourself; preparing yourself to have a good dinner like you've never done that with someone before.

you've been on dates, but you wouldn't even pack your appetizer to go, not even getting a proper entree because you knew you would leave the table and that brainless moron before you even got your first bite in.

if we were to talk about dates with your ex, that is one thing you for sure both didn't do on dates; was talk. you would just sit there in silence enjoying the meal that you didn't have to pay for, that is one thing you will miss.

green eyes 🍀

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

goodmorning stinky ⤶ 11:11 AM

✉️ ᴮᵉᵉᵖ..! one messageˎˊ˗

11:11 AM ⤷ foodmorning smelly

⤷ goodmorning** am i ur wish ☺️

corny ahh ⤶ 11:12 AM

but yes u are will u make it come true :3 ⤶

11:13 AM ⤷ u will jus have to find outt wont ya

ouu surprises u rlly tryna butter me up ⤶ 11:13 AM

11:14 AM ⤷ if u probs punched me

⤷ id lowk like it

??? 😭 shut up idiot ⤶ 11:15 AM

when shall i be ready by ma’am ? ⤶

11:15 AM ⤷ its hot when u speak like we in old times

⤷ how long do u need mama ?

ur making me blush oh my oh my ⤶ 11:17 AM

jkjk i get off work today at 2:30 ⤶

just an hour will be good :) is 4:30 okay with u ? ⤶

11:18 AM ⤷ cus of ur sarcasm i give u 15 mins 🤗

⤷ 4:30 is perfect i dont have work today so im all urs

haha hilarious ⤶ 11:19 AM

thank you for the ride :) i rlly appreciate it ⤶

11:20 AM ⤷ shhh

⤷ ofc like a real gentlewoman ‼️✂️

⤷‼️‼️*** THAT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE

⤷ im gonna kms

oh ellie baby u need a new phone or sum ⤶ 11:20 AM

but yes a real gentlewoman indeed ✂️ ⤶

i gtg :( ill ttyl green eyes ⤶

11:21 AM ⤷ ihy but lmk gorgeous

⤷ ill see u soon

💋 ⤶ 11:21 AM

“jesus! back up, you lookin’ mad scary” Dina’s voice rings through the speaker of your phone, bringing your attention back to the Face-Time you were on with her.

you let out a playful scoff as you got up from laying down on your bed "let me guess, Ellie?" Dina chimes in as she sees the way you were cheesing at your phone.

"yeah....." you let out a pleasant sigh like some toddler who finally got the ice cream they spent all day begging for.

"yeah-if you don't take your gay ass to work" Dina giggles out, mocking your tone at first "oh whatever! I'll call you later, pendeja" you giggle out with her before hanging up the phone and getting ready for work.

you swallowed the uneasy gut feeling in your stomach, putting music on before you began to put your hair up. you weren't going to let your paranoia and emotions get the best of you.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

work was longer than expected, you practically watched the clock tick with anticipation. you couldn't wait to clock out, quite literally run home, and get dolled up.

you don't remember the last time you got so euphoric over a date, the overwhelming excitement and nervousness brining your mental back getting ready for your first date ever; except you felt yourself even more overjoyed than the first.

since you were a kid, you loved dress-up. if it was one thing for certain about yourself, it was what you wanted and how you wanted it. you carried yourself in your appearance, making it your amor.

even in your most weak moments, you will admit that your look never failed to loom out. people were never ever able to tell when you were depressed or angry; masked perfectly by your bold makeup and clothing.

your outstanding clothing making up for your lack of self-assurance, never letting anyone even think for a second that you weren't full of experiences due to your confident personality.

people wouldn't be able to understand you, simply due to the fact that although you haven't lived much to find your inner identity. you knew who you who you were still in some imbalanced messy way. it didn't matter to a person at surface level because of your menacing demeanor, automatically making them nervous under your tigress gaze.

your ex began to hate it at some point as he found your vixen-self threatening to his masculinity. after two years of being together, you noticed how he began to try to control what you wear and how you did your makeup by trying to have a 'say' in what you wore.

when you never let it happen, you picked up on his automatic distance and at some point, even beginning to slut-shame you as way of insulting you.

the only reason you didn't like it was because of how you could pull anyone away from him, taking all his cheating ways away.

this feeling Ellie erupted in your soul, it was better than all your first's.

once you arrived home, walking in through the front door as you quickly greeted your parents before making your way up to your bedroom. you took your phone and sent a message to Ellie, letting her know you were home.

you immediately got to calling Dina as you began to shuffle through all the clothing in your closet. you wanted to wear something valiant but not flashy.

you began to throw out of their hanger's different assortments of bottoms, dresses, and different shirt combinations; soon your floor was covered in different clothing ideas.

"I don't want to wear something that makes her think I'm a hooker" you explain to your best friend through the phone as you showed her the past 10 different outfit options.

"girl, the options weren't even that raunchy! hmm, I say-the cheetah dress!" Dina affirms pleasantly through the phone screen. you pick up the skin-tight tube-slip dress to try it on once more.

it was covered in the cheetah print pattern, it made your body eccentricate as the dress hugged your curves and stopped at perfect mid-thigh length.

the dress brought out all your features perfectly. the print pattern complimented your tawny skin and stopped right above the chest, hugging your torso completely.

it was simple yet a statement piece.

you thought it wasn't too party-like nor too fancy while you checked yourself out in your long mirror "that's the one! pair it with a coat!" Dina cheers as you spin around for her in the camera's view for her approval.

"okay with what shoes!?" you ask you began to look for a coat to match with your dress.

Dina continued to help you put your entire outfit together. she helped you end up choosing your black platform slip mary-janes with a beige jean coat that had furry lining inside of the jacket.

you began to do your signature makeup look, your eyes never without the thick long black wing as your golden highlighter created a halo for your natural illumination from your bronze tone.

you added a muted pink blush to your face to cause the perfect hue on your cheeks before sealing your makeup look all together with your iconic cocoa lipliner, applying your lip combo.

you started looking through all your gold jewels, trying to find decide which jewelry would be perfect for this outfit. you choose these gold earrings that dangled, scattering your fingers with thick gold rings, and your neck being complimented by your golden rosario's and small shining medallions.

by the time you were ready, 4:30 rolled around in no time.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

you puffed on the joint that you hastily rolled in a way to calm your nerves before Ellie arrived, you were leaning against the bay window inside your living room as you dozed off into the front street of your house through the open window. you began to think about all the possible ways this night; alone with her could go.

just the thought alone could have shivers running up your spine as your stomach was queasy with butterflies. once you finished your joint, you seen a black car pull up to the front of your house, not even two minutes later; your phone rang out a ping.

you quickly checked yourself out once more before retouching any makeup you felt needed. you made your way to your front door, kissing your mom goodbye before walking out.

you felt and heard your heart pound against your chest with each step, you were thankful for that smoke break or else you would've been sweating right now. your body felt hot and flushed; you haven't even seen the woman yet.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

Ellie smiled at the little notification of your message from only a couple minutes ago before staying keeping an eye on your front-door.

Ellie was trying her hardest to swallow her nerves, she could only reminisce on the all the trouble she went through to even get an outfit that she thought was 'good enough'.

she made a mess of her room before just shoving it all to the side as she began to straighten her hair and throwing it up into a lazy half up-half down.

as Ellie was lost in thought, she peeped from the corner of her eye your silhouette from outside of her tinted car window get closer. Ellie wasted no time in opening her car door, stepping outside.

she left her door open as she made her way over to you.

the second Ellie's eyes fell onto you, it felt like the entire world stopped.

gorgeous wasn't even enough of a word to describe the way you looked.

you looked purely otherworldly, like you had been descended from Cleopatra herself.

Ellie was at a loss of words, your beauty completely striking the words right out her mouth as her steps haltered at the front of the passenger car-door. your prepossessing glamour completely capturing her as her eyes sparkled at you in awe.

but she wasn't the only one who was drooling.

your lip began to tingle in pain as you bit onto it, trying to stop your mouth from falling open as you shamelessly gawked at her. you didn't even notice her checking you out as you were doing the exact same thing.

Ellie was wearing a white crop top that stopped at the lower of her stomach, completely hugging her chest as the muscles of her arms flexed a bit as her hands were tugged away into the pocket of her fitted corduroy dress pants that bagged at the bottom. it was complimented by a black belt with a silver thick buckle, her semi-long crop top flowing above her dress pants perfectly.

she had an assortment of silver rings decorating her long fingers as her tattooed arms had a couple of different bracelets hugging each wrist and her infamous converse.

"oh fuck" you couldn't help but let your thoughts be audible as the light of the sunset now completely dawned on the both of you.

the way the sun sparkled onto her freckles, gleaming her green-hazel eyes while her hair was thrown up into the cutest hairstyle. Ellie was completely mesmeric, craving her completely.

your out-loud thought seemed to snap Ellie out of her own mesmerized daze. she threw you an awkward smile before opening the car-door to the passenger "just for you" Ellie slys out, trying to stop her breath from hitching.

you made her a complete mess under your gaze.

the sentence that fell from her delectable lips chimed through your ears like the melody of a song.

"why thank you" you say sweetly, your smile being slightly shy as you ducked into the passenger seat of her car as Ellie made her way back into the driver's seat.

"soo where are you taking me?"

you question once she was sat in the seat with a smile on your face "there's this fancy place-Joel recommended it t'me, it has a good selection of different cuisines." Ellie explains, her attention completely on you as her eyes can't help but continue to rake throught your body.

your heart fluttered, she really put alot of effort into this evening. it's not like you didn't think that she wasn't going to take you out somewhere nice but you just didn't think she would put so much thought by even going to ask Joel for advice.

you found is so sweet how she thought ahead and methodically by even choosing a place that didn't have a specific selection of food; not wanting to force you to eat anything you didn't like.

you were an observant person just as much as Ellie was, it was one thing that made you guys connect on a different level. you guys couldn't hide from each other as you both felt every emotion that radiated off each other.

she cared, she put everything together carefully.

"if that's not okay! we-we can go anywhere you want!" Ellie grew nervous as you stared at her, scared you weren't going to like her plans "oh! shut up Williams, i love it." you giggle out, reaching a hand over to put a finger in between her lips naturally before removing it but still slightly leaned into the atmosphere of her seat.

"you look-phew-there isn't even a word for how stunning you look" the compliment was sincere as she leaned into you more, closing the space between you two; not even thinking as she just completely soaked you in like her you were her biggest blessing.

she made you fall into putty with the flattery Ellie rushed into you "it's sexy knowing that we both smoked before this" you joke out, trying ease the overwhelming emotion fulfilling your insides as you could smell the mango cigarillo on her from the blunt she smoked earlier.

Ellie chuckles out which is only music to your ears "you look really amazing, els" your tone sheeped out as you continued the close intimacy between the both of you. the nickname fell from your lips like you had been saying it your whole life.

the tension was thick and oozing.

Ellie bit her lip in between her teeth as she couldn't help but give a big smile before looking away from your enchanting eyes.

"you ready for our date?" Ellie boosts like a little kid, it was the first time she had put so much effort into taking care and taking anyone out. she used to mainly go on cafe dates or to the movies because you barely had to talk.

this time was completely different, you were like a diamond in a sea of rocks.

Ellie felt the need to give you the best of her.

"I've never been more ready for anything."

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

you finally pulled up to the restaurant, the valet at front leading you to the reserved parking lot once the valet person handed Ellie her ticket. you insisted on paying for parking, but Ellie didn't even give you a meer second to dig into your black mini purse after making the suggestion.

"its only $20, don't worry about it" was all she said, her hand touching yours reassuringly.

you would never know it, but each extra hour Ellie picked up slaving away at black grease and car parts was going to be worth every penny spent on you; together tonight.

the car ride was beyond delightful as you and Ellie practically shared the same music taste, even putting her onto some old Spanish songs as she admired the way your voice sung each lyric; even trying to say a couple of the lyrics as you encouraged her.

"did you learn English or Spanish first?"

Ellie asked more questions about your ethnic background.

yes, she knew where your parents were from since you told her during one of the many Face-Time calls, but she wanted to know more about your personal experiences with your culture.

you thought it was sweet the blithesome demeanor she had when indulged into you every time you spoke.

you both bounced off each other, your energies working together as the natural flow of your egos meet like magnets, there was no worry about how you both looked to one another, no worries that anything you might say or do is wrong; Ellie didn't make you second-guess your own being as you didn't make Ellie over-analyze everything.

you both brought out the best and drowned out the hardest parts of the both of you.

the restaurant was located inside of a wide outside mall that had an area full of different dining places.

when Ellie parked the car in the open parking lot, she got out of the car and immediately went to open your door like the 'gentlewoman' she was.

she grabbed your hand as you put your two feet out, stepping each one down elegantly onto the outside pavement as her hand helped you up and out of her car before proceeding to shut the door closed for you.

you smoothed out your dress once you stood up as Ellie's hand rested on the small of your back comfortingly, your stomach was doing cartwheels and all types of fucking flips.

you both walked in through the front doors, close together as you are immediately greeted by the hostess.

"Hello there, good evening! do one of you have a reservation with us tonight?" the blonde woman asks as she smiles sweetly between the both of you "Yes, that'd be me. It's under 'Ellie Miller'" she replied.

you smiled at how she shorten her name which she only looked over to return sheepishly "perfect! follow me" the blonde hostess exclaims as she grabbed two menu's and began to lead you to your table.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

your table was a semi-booth, more tucked to the corner yet still in the semi-center of the extended restaurant walls.

the table was decorated with lit candles and a small-dangly chandelier above the both of you. the restaurant had fake vines all around the shelving's and ceiling. the place had a classical fairy-burrow esque to it.

the lighting was warm and dim, not overpowering the both of you at all as the rest of the restaurant blended into a shadow by the strong illumination from only the lit candles at your table, highlighting the both of you for only each other.

"I absolutely adore this place, thank you for taking me here." you were slightly awe-struck. sure, Cheesecake Factory is alright, but this wasn't just about the location.

it was how she was the one to take you here.

"I'm happy you like it, it looks better than in the pictures" Ellie jokes out as she held the menu in her hand, not even looking at it. you giggle out, playfully smacking the small of her hand.

you both began to scroll through the menu together, going over each thing as Ellie asked for your intel for anything your finger lingered on.

Ellie was also slightly becoming indecisive between the options she had her eyes on. almost naturally, you scoot closer into her, legs completed pushed up against each other, and snaking an arm around Ellie without a thought.

as you were helping her choose the waiter finally arrives.

"Hello ladies, how can i help you-" the waiter stops talking the second you both look up at him.

he was a tall man that had dreads falling down his face, concealing it slightly as you couldn't quite get a good look at his face, his tall frame and elegant work suit only in lighting's view.

you could see by the glint of the candles, the way his expression changed but his eyes weren't peeled onto the both of you. they were trained onto you.

there was this unruly tension that began to form and engulf the atmosphere.

you could feel the way his eyes glared into you, only you. you watched through the shitty lighting how his forehead creased, and his eyebrows snapped together before abruptly clearing his throat.

"So sorry! Good evening are you ready to order?" the tone wasn't the same although he excused himself, there was this dead and forced tone talking to the both of you.

you watched the way his eyes fell onto Ellie, feeling uneasy about the whole thing.

"mhm your excused, i would like the Chicken Tikka-Masala with seasoned rice. then for my girl-" Ellie tone came off as stand-offish, she wasn't oblivious to the actions of the waiter for whatever reason for his actions.

she gave you a soft smile as you began to order your dish of choice.

the waiter didn't say anything, completely noting down your order in silence as your eyed burned into him. there was something about him that itched you. not in a good way at all.

you tried to focus your vision and brain on him while trying not to alarm Ellie, it was like it was on the tip of your tongue.

he seemed familiar, he felt familiar.

your mind couldn't put a pin on it but this subconscious familiarization with him slowly begins to bubble a small anxiety inside you.

just like that, he walks away; not giving a second glance to either of you.

'if i could've only read his nametag' you thought.

"poor waiter was checking you out" Ellie teases causing you slightly giggle but you were too alarmed to give a genuine reaction.

that man was definitely not checking you out.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

Ellie was quick to make all that anxiety and harrowing thoughts vanish within the blink of your eye.

your meals were brought out to you with no problem by some polite woman, completely forgetting about the man as now all you could think about was the woman you were on this splendid date with.

the conversations were deep as you both died to know more like you were each other's favorite subjects. the both of you were so enthralled between the conversations you shared and the growing sexual tension.

you felt at such ease with her, Ellie could even help you open up about topics that you considered "hard to talk about" for the longest.

it was your very first date with her and you were already each-other's open-books.

you opened up to her more about your family. you told her about how your parents were immigrants and the second you turned 18 and your older sister was 25 and wanted to start her family; they put your childhood home under your name which is why you still lived with them.

you felt safe as you unraveled yourself. she listened to every family story, even the 'bad' ones.

you bonded over your family businesses and passion for one another's hobbies. you learned how she loved to play the guitar besides art, she also knew a lot about naturalism and camping.

you loved hearing her talk about her love for the outdoors, one of her stories being how she took a road trip with Joel once all the way to California for one of her birthday's; just so she could see the ocean.

Ellie opened up about how it was like growing up without ever getting to know her mom due to her passing.

you both didn't feel the need to hide the ugly from each other as you both indulged in it, not a single ounce of judgement or need for questioning.

you both just heard each other as your souls sang together.

you even enjoyed your meal in silence, usually hard topics could create a uneasy or awkward tone for the rest of the night but instead you both thought your meals were even more delightful.

there wasn't an ounce of awkwardness in the silence while you enjoyed your Indvidual meals; or insecurities between the two of you as you both made each other feel imperfectly perfect.

"wanna try some of mine, bombón?" the new little term of endearment fell naturally from your lips which caused the softest pink hue spread over Ellie's cheeks, barely visible.

"I don't know what that means but I love it." Ellie beams as she answers your question with the action of leaning her head closer for the spoonful of your food that you were holding on your utensil.

you giggle out as you feed her the spoonful as you take her in while she was leaned in this close to your face.

as you got closer to finishing your meals, you both reminisced about high school years. Ellie told you about how she picked up basketball which has the fault for the number of wife-beaters she owns. you told her about how you used to play volleyball. you were actually the best on the team because you were one of the only ones who knew how to do a proper carry. you only did volleyball till your senior year where Dina convinced you to join the Dance Team with her.

"oh, I need to know about those dance days!" Ellie cheered out as she gave you a playful smirk "well, where did you think I picked up those little moves from?" you leaned into her ear as you spoke lowly, your tone turning suggestive. frankly, as much as you hate to admit it. you aren't stupid to the fact that just Ellie giving you one look had your arousal, as a matter of fact, dripping.

Ellie was on the exact energetic page as you, the hazel in her eyes darken as her eyes pour into you "ah I see, I wonder what else you can show me" Ellie shamelessly flirted with you.

if both meals were done; Ellie was ready to handle the check and get you all to herself.

"depends baby, whatcha' tryna see?" your tone was laced with pure sexual insinuation as your lips brushed against her ear, causing shivers down her spine. Ellie leaned herself into you more before turning her head to be face-to-face with you; your lips brushing together.

you couldn't hear the way your hearts palpitate together in sync, only hearing each other's own individual hearts boom as you both become insatiable for each other.

"is it okay if I fix myself up in the restroom while you pay? will you meet me there?" your tone was only seductive and teasing as you took your hand to caress her lower thigh.

"go on mama, don't worry" her voice was barely above a whisper against your lips, you smile against them slightly before pecking them softly.

all she could do was watch as you. the way your ass hugged that dress as your tits perked up as you sat up, the way your bronze legs stepped away from her while you made your way to the ladies room.

Ellie eyes that were trained on your body walking away from her was obstructed by the tall waiter from before. this time he was standing closer, and Ellie got to get a better look at him.

"ready for the check?"

"yes, that would be amazing."

Ellie couldn't help but give the man a mean stare at the man as she signed off the check before placing her card into the checkbook.

he left without a word but took a double look, noticing how you werent sitting next to her.

once the check made its way back, Ellie didn't waste any time on making her way to that restroom.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

while you were in the restroom, you quickly touched up your lip combo; hoping for it only get ruined.

soon enough, Ellie walked through the restaurant bathroom door. you made eye contact with her before walking off into a stall. you shut the stall door behind you, but you didn't lock it.

of course, Ellie follows; this time actually locking the door behind her. she stalked her way closer to you as you were up against the fancy bathroom wall, shit even the stall had its own mirror.

she got closer and closer to you, only speaking up once she was face-to-face with you again.

"for someone who's never been with a girl before, you seem to know the gay agenda very well" Ellie couldn't help but joke although her face had a smirk smeared all over it.

the little sly remark that left her lips caused your cheeks to flush.

your arms wrap around Ellie's neck, pulling her closer to you "I've never been actively gay, but I should've known when I used to watch "The L word" when everyone was asleep in high school..." you grin, you were kind-of joking.

Ellie lets out a laugh "oh yeah mama, you are definitely into women." you smack her chest teasingly with a smile which she only softly grips your wrist, pulling you into her. now chest-to chest as your faces skim against each other.

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: DISPO

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

"kiss me" it wasn't a question; it was more like a wish.

a wish you knew Ellie would grant whenever you wanted.

"your wish is my command, mama."

♫ ¿qué le habrán hecho a esa bebé? que está rebelá

no le gustaba antes prender

y ahora sin miedo quema

¿será que terminó con él? ♫

Ellie's lips waste no time in hastily meeting yours. the kiss was automatically filled with passion, finally relieving all the tension that oozed between the two of you for the whole evening; falling into the night.

Ellie's tongue swiped against the bottom of your lip softly causing you to let out a stifled whimper, she pulls away momentarily "ya'like that?" she teases, she knows you like it. she wants to hear you say it.

♫ ta dura la bebé, puesta pa ella, se le ve

que ella sabe lo que tiene

por cómo lo mueve ♫

you aren't the type to submit easily but god this time, every part of you was ready to do everything and anything she told you.

you still aren't the type to submit even as her hands raked up and down your back as her tongue loosens your lips ever-so-softly.

"mhmm" you let out threw a bit lip as your eyes hazed out as her lips continued their blissful synchronized rhythm.

"use your words" Ellie divulged.

"i-i like it when you kiss me-when y'kiss me, els" your voice fainted out as it slightly whimpered with the pecks that were being left alongside your face, down to your neck.

'when y'kiss me, els' your whimper replayed in her mind over and over again, like a broken record.

♫ salió a la disco a pasarla rico, a janguear

ahora está dispo, pero no cualquiera le da ♫

Ellies hands went from holding your back to now squeezing the thick flesh of your hips as her clothed corduroy leg came in-between your exposed legs while she leaned into you, burrowing her face into your neck.

Ellie's pecks quickly became open-mouthed kisses as she basically attacked your neck with her lips. she was determined on finding your sweet spot with each kiss she left on your neck, tainting you with her.

every single little suck and kiss from Ellie was a choked moan or luscious snivel. you couldn't help but squirm in her encaged embrace as her palms were flat against the wall, on each side of your head.

"aye milagro!" you lewdly moan out, you removed one of your arms from around Ellie's neck to cover your mouth with your hand. you could feel the smirk that took over her lips once she pulled away.

there it is.

♫¿qué tú crees, bebé?, a ver, olvídate de él

cho-cho-chócame, yo me pierdo en tu piel ♫

she attaches her lips to the nape of your neck which is where lied your sweet spot, softly sucking as you rustled your body against her.

the fabric of her corduroy pants rubbing the slightest bit against your soaked panties.

"hmm, ya'like that too?" Ellie lets out a content hum as she pulls away, continuing her teasing innuendos.

Ellie was a gentleman; she wasn't going fuck you on the first date.

but she knew to bring you otherworldly pleasure beyond just the sexual level.

"mm-yes!" your moan was rushed and hushed as you spoke against your mouth. you loved anything Ellie did to you like a drug, like you had gotten a taste of your own personal crack-cocaine.

Ellie's hands have now made their way to your ass, fondling the flesh through your tight printed dress as it began to ride up with each squirm you let out.

"tell me mama, has he kissed you here?" the question was sincere, Ellie wanted to learn about all of you.

"shut up els, please-do it again" you pleaded as the smallest pout fell upon your lips yet your cat-eyes burning into Ellie's dark and hazed out eyes.

"what did he do to you mama, makin' you fight all this pleasure? he ain't know what to do with all this, hm?" Ellie's demeanor became slightly dominant.

"what makes you think you can you handle me?" you put up a challenge as you picked up on the change, liking it.

she was right, he had never paid delectable attention to the sweet nape of your neck like she just did, but you would make Ellie earn that information.

Ellie didn't say anything, she only harshly squeezed your ass causing a dirty smile to tug your lips as you slightly spread your legs for her knee to fall into your arousal, pressing the forming heat between your legs against her clothed knee.

"believe me mama, once you're all mine. you gon'forget all about him-" she began to ramble against your skin as her lips brushed against each exposed area.

"I can't get emasculated by the fact my baby so strong, the way that body moves-" Ellie continued, squeezing your ass once more when saying "that body" as she pulls you even closer to her, completely off the bathroom wall and chest-to-chest with her.

"I'll get lost in all of your power and beauty, m'not no dumbass-i'll be your throne." Ellie devoted herself to you.

"and exactly for all that, our time will be a lot more special than this restaurant bathroom" Ellie finishes, leaving one last peck on your neck and shoulder before leaning back up to meet your lips with hers.

your heart was overpouring as she fixed your dress for you and even began to carry your mini purse for you.

you think you just fell in love, no. you know you just fell in love.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

you were both making your way out of the ladies' restroom 20 minutes later, hand in hand.

as you both were making your way to the front of the restaurant doors, you caught a quick glance at the male waiter from earlier which he didn't miss. you turn your head away without a second thought or care for who the man was.

Ellie reaches for the door handle, getting ready to step out.

except a voice calls out abruptly.

"excuse me!?"

you and Ellie's head snap back towards his direction. Ellie stopped herself from pulling the door open, her hand not leaving the handle.

"i wonder how he would feel if he knew his girl was a dyke"

before you knew it, you were seeing red.

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[yumeka-sxf]

Seems like today's new chapter is hinting at another new arc - the final exam arc maybe?!

I still think Endo is planning something special for chapter 100 that may be connected to this arc. Regardless, it's nice for the whole "Anya's good at classical languages" subplot to be highlighted here...so curious if it'll end up being important.

I was cracking up at Anya's whole "snotaconda" joke 🤣 She's such a kid, and Loid is so done.

This is now the third chapter that the Authens have consistently appeared in since their introduction (except for the short mission of course). It's really making me think that they're going to be important for something, if not in this arc then later on.

Like many others, I'm on the fence as to whether they can be trusted or not. They've been portrayed only favorably since they've appeared, having several sweet moments with Anya. Plus, Sigmund is shown to not have his wits about him a lot of the time, which would be very detrimental to someone who's tactically trying to deceive others - unless his whole "senile old man" thing is just an act! If anything, he could have some connection to Anya's past, since he has so many books on classical languages...but he was a professor after all...so many mysteries!

Tiny Twiyor crumb of Yor being embarrassed talking about Loid. She doesn't seem to get embarrassed when she praises him in front of others when he's not there, like with Becky, but if he is there...yeah 😅

There was a lot of wordplay in this chapter that I think the translator did a good job conveying. In the above scene, Sigmund says he's "a pro at exposing secrets," so Anya mistakes the word "pro" for "furo" (bath).

In this scene, she mistakes Sigmund's "eureka" for "yuukari" (eucalyptus).

And here, instead of "booger constrictor" she says "hanaconda," a combination of "hana" (nose) and "anaconda."

This is actually the first chapter that Loid has played a significant role in since the end of the Mole Hunt arc. Since that ended with a big character development chapter for him, I'm curious to see how much he's changed, even subtly. In this chapter we can see that he's even more hesitant to interact with Yuri, which makes sense.

Also, Sigmund opens his eyes to a new way of acquiring knowledge he had never thought of before outside of his cold, calculating spy training. In addition, we see Sigmund being openly affectionate with Anya, patting her on the head and even hugging her when she says that she strives for world peace.

Again, nothing so far has portrayed him as anything but good-intentioned, perhaps as a way for Loid to eventually learn to be affectionate with Anya too. But that doesn't mean Sigmund isn't hiding something, even if it's not malevolent.

Loid's line here towards the end of the chapter was particularly ominious.

Ugh, so many mysterious and potential plot twists! In addition to a cliffhanger, the chapter ending gave us cursed facial hair Anya 🤣

Two weeks to see if she passed or failed! 😳

[lovebugism]

hi!! i just had to drop by and say the customer’s always right was some of the best smut i’ve read in so long. omfg it was perfect and i can’t stop thinking about it. and that cliffhanger?! you’re trying to kill me i swear 😭 do you think you’ll end up writing a part two? 👀

THE CUSTOMER’S ALWAYS RIGHT | screw the deal

summary: "there's an angel in his trailer, washing his cum-stained jeans after getting off on his thigh, and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve it." pairing: virgin!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.7k warning: thigh riding, tit play, talks of asshole boyfriends, smut 18+ mdni a/n: ok so i'm still a bit overwhelmed by the support from the last part. like, seriously, you guys are way too fucking nice <333 i hope this lives up to expectations and if it doesn't we can just pretend, okay? be on the look out for many, many more parts to come because i can't get enough of virgin!eddie.

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

The credits of Fast Times at Ridgemont High roll beneath a jittery static of a nineteen-inch TV. Eddie, dressed now in a fresh pair of thin, plaid pajama pants, bangs on the side of the thing with his fist to physically jostle the grainy texture from the screen. It only half works.

He feels about as fuzzy as the lingering white noise on his television — like he’s not all there, like his brain is still misty and he needs to lie down. He’s still reeling from the after-effects of his freight train of an orgasm where he stands even now. And you were just touching him through his jeans.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you’re inside me,” you purred to him in a breathless promise. He understands, now, that just might kill him.

It’s lame. He’s lame. And he thinks he might be in love.

You don’t seem to be as affected by it as he is. Though, to be fair, you’re not the one that just came in their underwear. Either way, you’re able to avoid the bubble of bliss that settles over the trailer like a warm and weighted blanket. You evade it all with a level of finesse that makes his chest swirl with an emotion that he can’t name but he can feel. Like, if he could reach through his ribcage right now, he could physically pull it out of him and hold it in his hands, it’s so damn palpable.

You’re standing at his decade-old washing machine with his cum-stained underwear and black ripped jeans in a wadded ball at your hip. You lift the weighty metal lid and throw the dirty clothes inside, then rise on the tips of your toes to reach for the detergent and fabric softener on the cluttered shelf about your head.

The way you float through the trailer is gut-wrenchingly admirable. It's almost like you’ve lived here as long as Eddie has.

You’re still fully dressed, alarmingly put together, and not at all as jostled-looking as the boy across the living room. Your sweater isn’t wrinkled, your skirt is pulled down from where it had ridden up, and your boots are still on and squeaky clean. You look like a professional and move like one too, totally unfazed by it all, as though making men come so hard they see stars is just a pastime for you.

It almost makes him jealous, knowing your magic has touched other, undoubtedly unworthy guys. But he can’t find it in himself to get angry or bitterly self-conscious. You’re in his trailer now, not out with some other asshole, and you’re washing his fucking clothes. 

It makes Eddie feel like you’re his already. A primal sort of possessiveness wells deep within him. He wants to protect this moment and keep it to himself forever.

You peek subtly over at him while sprinkling in the washing powder, pretending to scratch your jaw with your shoulder under the guise of catching a glimpse of the boy behind you. He’d put up quite the fight about you laundering his dirty bottoms upon realizing how serious you were, but he’s quiet now.

“I made the mess, Munson,” you’d argued. “Let me clean it up.”

That shut him up real quick.

You find that he looks more comfortable now. He’s out of the usual leather jacket and tight pants duo that most people rarely see him out of — it feels like a privilege to observe him like this. He’s traded them for a pair of loose red sleep pants spotted with barely-there stains and tiny holes like he’s had them for ages. They probably used to be Wayne's.

His rings stay on, however, and the Def Leppard tee too. 

You can see more of his body without the thick jacket to shield him. The way the fabric clings to his upper half, you can just make out the subtle lines of his torso, the tightness of his chest, and the soft pudge of his stomach.

He looks less like he’s trying, but he’s somehow even prettier this way.

His chocolate eyes glimmer beneath the dim light of the living room while his hands fidget something fierce at his sides. It’s like he’s itching to do something with them but has convinced himself not to. 

You wonder if it’s the urge to touch you that he’s fighting.

You wish that he wouldn’t.

Shutting the heavy lid, you press the faded green button on the start pad. The sound of water trickling from the top goes muffled. The machine starts to shake, wobbling back and forth with age and fatigue alike.

Once you spin on your heel to face the boy, you’re able to catch a much better look at him. And the way he suddenly and oh, so casually flits his gaze to the ceiling in an effort to pretend like he wasn’t just staring at you.

His hair is wild and his eyes are tired. He probably just wants to sleep. 

You begin to fear that you’ve overstayed your welcome. This wasn’t what this was supposed to be, after all. Some heavy petting was expected, of course, but certainly not of this magnitude. Eddie was prepared to cop a feel, not watch you while you wash his fucking clothes.

So out of worry that you’ve turned this — whatever this was — into something that it wasn’t, it becomes your mission to ease the tension you’d singlehandedly crafted.

“Oh. You must be tired, huh?” you question sympathetically with an awkward hand on the back of your neck. “It is getting pretty late. Maybe I should… I should go—”

“What? No! You don’t— You don’t have to go!” Eddie is quick to interject with the rapid shake of his head. Fluffy curls shake around the frame of his face. His eyes go wide. It makes your heart sing. 

But now he’s the scared one. Fearing he’s come off as overzealous, he backtracks with a shrug. “I mean… If you want to. But I… I don’t really…”

“You don’t really what?” you press once he trails off, brows raised ro your hairline and a smile teasing at the corners of your lips.

“I don’t know… I— I guess I’d just... I’d kinda like it if you stayed.”

The revelation seems to shock you, delightfully so, because you’re lighting up again like a christmas tree. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, suddenly shy. His chin falls to his chest, and he takes to gazing at you with a sparkling gaze through his lashes as he confesses: “I didn’t… I didn’t even get to touch you.”

His eyes squeeze shut and his face scrunches as he silently cringes at how lame the words sound spilling from his mouth.

“Oh, right. The deal,” you lilt, missing his unstated point and forming your own. You laugh a little at yourself. “That’s literally why I came over in the first place. Sorry. I guess I got a little… carried away.”

“Screw the deal,” he blurts. “I just wanna make you feel good.”

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night where his voice isn’t shaking. His sudden confidence seems to take you both by surprise.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hide your sheepish grin and failing. With your hands clasped behind your back — inadvertently jutting out your chest and the twinkling pendant resting upon it — you take slow steps towards him, like a tiger sneaking up on its prey.

Except you’re not exactly being sly about it.

Eddie’s just not running away.

You manage to look so innocent still, all flushed out and smiling at him. “You don’t have to touch me to make me feel good, Eds.”

His brows furrow. “…I don’t?”

“I just like spending time with you,” you shrug shyly when you finally reach the boy. He remains frozen by the television that’s gone static again, the screen all fuzzy in time with the misty haze you’ve put his brain into.

You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders, pressing your warmth so intently against his body, like you would melt with him if the rules of the universe allowed it. 

Eddie swallows thickly at the foreign feeling of having someone so close. His gaze falls to your quirked-up lips. He wonders if it’d be too inappropriate to kiss you now — if he still needs to ask or if the two of you crossed that bridge an orgasm and a half ago.

You notice his unabashed, button-eyed stare and grin at him with a similar brazenness.

“You don’t have to, Eddie. Promise,” you assure with a softness that was previously unfamiliar to him before now. “That’s not why I did that — you know, so you had to return the favor or whatever.”

“No, I know. I just…” he trails off for a moment and darts his tongue out to wet his chapped lips. “I’d really like to make you feel good. If you’ll let me.”

You shake your head at him. It’s not a rejection, though, just an expression of disbelief at how he hasn’t gotten the hint yet. So you just come right out and tell him. “I’d let you do anything to me, Eds.”

He swears, it’s that fucking scene from Fast Times all over again, the same one that got him into this mess. Eddie’s starting to convince himself that this is all just one big fever dream and that you’re his personal Phoebe Cates sent to haunt him in a fantasy far too heavenly to be real.

He’s the Hawkins freakshow, for chrissakes — since when does the town’s local weirdo get to dabble in such simple pleasures?

“Well, what do you wanna do?” you ask him like you’re the timid one. Like you didn’t just make him bust in his pants like a teenager half an hour ago.

He can’t tell if you’re playing coy to get him riled up or if your coquettish nature is just a symptom of your nervousness. It’s hot either way, he concludes, but asking him for guidance is a mistake you don’t even realize you’re making.

His hands falter where they rest on your hips — fidgeting, squeezing, and fidgeting some more.

“I, uh… I want you to…” he does his best to keep his gaze locked with yours, egged on by the intrigued glint in your eye, but it’s a difficult feat. “…to rub yourself, you know, against my— my thigh… If you want.”

He feels like an idiot, the total opposite of cool and mysterious and sexy. His cheeks burn cherry with embarrassment. You smile sweetly up at him, anyway. It both soothes and sends a sick feeling of anticipation swimming in his stomach.

Eddie’s always so sweet with you. Always asking to do something, but only if you want to. He’s all shy and finicky, like he’s nervous you might turn him down, though you’ve only ever said yes to him.

It makes you wonder if he’s ever been dominant with a girl before or if this is the first time someone’s asked him what he wants to do in bed.

It sends a foreign flash of pride in your chest.

“Okay. How about this?” You concede with a grin. Your hands fall from his shoulders and move down his torso, smooth like drops of water. You rest your palms on his hips as you walk him slowly backward. “I’ll ride your thigh, and you can play with my tits. You know, so you don’t get bored.”

The back of his knees meet the couch and he falls lamely onto the cushions. He blinks up at you. “Don’t get… bored?”

Who the fuck is getting bored when there’s a woman getting off on their lap? he actually wants to say but isn’t quite brave enough to.

“Yeah,” you shrug like the answer is obvious. “Most guys have a hard time, I don’t know, being present if it isn’t about them.”

“Well, most guys are stupid.”

“You’re definitely right,” you scoff out a laugh, though it’s mostly muffled when you strip your sweater up and over your head.

The motions come easy to you. There’s an obvious lack in overthinking that Eddie notices right away because it’s the thing that’s been plaguing him all night. He’s both envious and fascinated, but more so mesmerized by the sight that is slow to unfold before him.

Your bra isn’t anything special, just a white cotton number with a cute little bow sitting neatly between your tits. It’s a size or more too small for you, as though you’ve had it for quite some time. The tops of your breasts bulge from the cup. Eddie so desperately wants to sink his teeth into the skin there.

“How could anyone get bored of you…?” he mumbles softly to himself, not realizing that he’s actually said the words out loud until you’re answering him.

“I don’t know,” you respond with a breathless chuckle, tossing your top onto the couch beside him with a dull thud. “You should try asking my ex-boyfriend.”

“Fuck that guy,” Eddie blurts without thinking.

You laugh again. It’s comforting. Like a familiar face in a sea of strangers or a warm hug when you’re freezing. You’re smiling when you finally settle over his lap, your thighs straddling over one of his own. You were just here minutes ago, but it still feels so new.

Eddie wants you here, against him, forever.

“You don’t even know him.”

“Well, he let you go,” he reasons as he places two unconfident and shaking hands along the bare skin of your thighs where your skirt had ridden up. “So he’s gotta be a little bit of an asshole.”

“How about a lot a bit?” you playfully correct with a faltering smile and wandering eyes that flit to the ceiling.

You’re certain Eddie hasn’t noticed your momentary, faraway blip at mention of a boy who made your life a living hell. But when your gaze meets his again, you find a pair of bushy brows furrowed in concern beneath his curly bangs. His rich, chocolate cake colored eyes are coated with concern. 

In an effort to deflect from the silence and the brief flicker of following awkwardness, you grip the boy’s shoulders and reach for a kiss.

He isn’t quite swayed, however. Not even when your bottom lips brush together when he asks you: “…What’d he do?”

“Let’s maybe not talk about my ex-boyfriend when I’m trying to kiss you, okay?” you advise without decreasing the proximity. Your mouth still chases his, desperate in more ways than one.

“Okay—”

You’re kissing him as soon as the word tumbles from his lips. You lick into him without warning and he huffs a pitiful moan. You feel the exhale of it against your cupid’s bow.

It’s sloppy, all tongue and teeth, like two teenagers trying to figure out how to kiss each other. That’s what it feels like, anyway. You explore his mouth like it’s undiscovered territory, like he’s all yours to claim. 

He lets you. 

His head falls back to the edge of the couch, mouth obediently agape for you, as you rut the rough pad of your tongue against his own. You part from him only to suck at his kiss-bitten bottom lip, and you pull away from him so achingly slow just to watch the rosy plush pop back into place.

You smile like you’ve won some sort of prize with him. Your eyes are sparkling and heavy with desire.

Eddie fidgets beneath you at the unfamiliarity of it all. It makes his chest so warm and fuzzy that his heart begins to ache. He can’t tell if he wants to keep looking or close his eyes to hide from it. So he just kisses you — or rather, tries to.

You’re pulling back with a mischievous sort of grin before your lips can meet.

The sound of his discontent comes out in a muffled whine trapped in his throat. A low and yearning sound that makes your smile widen.

Unamused by your teasing, Eddie huffs a rather dramatic sigh. He grips your hips with ring-clad fingers and drags you further against him. The fabric of his pants creates a rough friction against your cotton underwear and you feel it all against your clit. 

Before you have the chance to moan, Eddie’s lips are already back on yours.

His touch is more confident now, not just in the way he keeps you pressed against his thigh, but in the way he kisses you. You’re no longer in control as he shoves his tongue in your mouth, perhaps more aggressively than intended. He roams the ridges of the roof of your mouth and the soft, irregular-patterned pad of your tongue like it’s an undiscovered island. And you let him — you beg him without words, and only in hushed and breathy moans.

He trails wet kisses down your chin and your jaw to your neck, leaving the warmed skin glistening with his spit and cooling when he leaves it.

While he mouths desperately at your collarbone, just beside the strap of your bra, his hands rise rise rise — fingers tickling below the hem of your skirt before traveling up to your hips. Eddie squeezes softly at the skin when he reaches your naked waist.

You laugh with merriment when he does. He can feel the rapid rise and fall of your shoulders from where he rests against you. A soft smile tugs at his lips. You can feel the contortion of it against your skin.  

He stops kissing you when his fingers try their hand at unlatching your bra. You’re not sure he even realizes it. He loses the ability to multitask when he finds that it’s a harder feat than he thought.

You can imagine the look of concentration on his face, brows furrowed and tongue poking out of his mouth, as he fidgets with the clasp. It makes you smile to yourself.

“Need help?”

“No, I— I got it,” he declines quickly. “—Shit. Was this made by a fucking rocket scientist or some shit?”

You giggle again. It feels like being bathed in rays of sunlight, adding heat to his already burning cheeks.

“Have you never taken off a girl’s bra before?”

You don’t sound like you’re teasing him. You just sound curious and kinda of shocked at his struggling. It makes him tense anyway. 

His virginity makes him feel like Spiderman. Like he’s got this alter ego that he can’t possibly reveal to you because it might change everything. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to — yet — because his hands inadvertently freeze and the clasp behind your back clicks lowly when it unfastens.

He’s able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Your bra eases its constriction on your chest. The tight straps loosen at your shoulders, and your fingers tug them until they're slipping down your arms.

You don’t even look at him at first, not the slightest glance to gauge his reaction. He wonders if it’s intentional — your nonchalance — as you pay more attention to the bra you toss off to the side than to the boy suddenly rigid beneath you.

And when you do finally look back at him, you can’t quite measure the expression on his face. His eyes are heavy and focused on your tits, his face lax and void of any readable emotion.

He doesn’t say anything, not for a while — or at all — and you don’t know what to make of it. It’s the first time you’ve shown your tits to a guy who wasn’t squeezing them right way (and far too roughly) or biting at them so hard they leave teeth marks. 

You hate that shit. But it might be preferable to no reaction at all.

Without thinking, you bring your hands to your chest, crossing your arms over your breasts as embarrassment burns against your cheeks.

You make a sad joke of it, a measly “Sorry, if I didn’t, you know, live up to expectations—”

Eddie’s quick to stop you then. It’s like life returns to him as he reanimates, his hands suddenly springing from your waist to your wrists.

But, again, he doesn’t speak. He just holds onto your hands and looks up at you. His gaze swims with something you have difficulty placing — it’s a little sad like yearning, but wild with craving. Lust. 

His cinnamon eyes blink up at you and tell you everything without saying a word.

You breathe a sigh of relief through your nose as you relax against him. You let him pull your arms back down to your sides, leaving your tits on display for him once more.

This time when you burn hot, it’s of the fire he’s lit in your chest.

“Do you like them?” you wonder meekly.

Eddie nods. He eyes your breasts like a predator would with its prey. His mouth falls softly agape, looking desperate to be kissed — filled. 

“Can... Can I— Can I…” he stammers like a child, though he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed. He just wants to hold you, to taste you, and you’re so goddamn close.

You respond with an affirmative shake of your head. A soft smile hints at the edges of your lips while you relish in your first time rendering a man speechless with your tits. You watch with glittering eyes as his shaking, terribly unsure hands raise to touch you. 

He merely grazes the top of your chest with his fingertips in a featherlight touch that sends a shiver down your spine. He fondles you so gently, too timid yet to touch you where you want him most. Like he’s teasing you.

He isn’t, of course, he’s just feeling out the new terrain — literally — but you don’t know that. You just think he’s being playful with you. So you take his hands in yours and press your palms against his knuckles, your fingers against his ring-clad ones, and flatten him against you.

The metal bumps lightly when it meets your pebbled nipple. Chill bumps erupt on the surrounding skin when it does. 

His moan entwines with yours.

Eddie grows more confident with his fleeting touches. He squeezes your breasts softly in his palms, more gentle than anyone’s ever been with you, and takes a moment to marvel how warm they feel in his hold.

No one’s ever taken the time to admire any part of you like this before. 

When he starts playing with your nipples that stand desperately at attention and ache to be touched, he observes how you react to his touch. You twitch against him when he presses against them, moan when he tweaks the hardened buds between his thumb and forefinger, and throw your head back with bliss when he pinches them.

It’s not for his own pleasure — though he is desperately, desperately turned on — but he likes seeing how he makes you feel so he can do more of the thing you seem to like the most. 

He’s attentive in a way you’ve never seen before.

And though every single touch of his is experimental, it feels good, like lightning strikes to your pussy.

Your underwear is more than damp now, more than it already was when you were just feeling him up. It leaves your vision practically blurry with desire. So turned on you’re dumb, there is no thought in your head other than Eddie Eddie Eddie. You want to feel him everywhere.

“That feel good?” he wonders like you aren’t moaning above him without hardly being touched.

“Mm-hmm,” you sigh with a nod. You tilt your head back down to face him and release your bottom lip from where it was caged between your teeth. “You can put your mouth on them if you want.”

And it’s not like it’s the craziest question in the world. You’re just giving him consent to touch you further, which is more than most asshole men in Hawkins wait for, but it drives Eddie absolutely wild.

He’s seen it in porn a million times over, fantasized incessantly about how a girl might feel against his tongue, his teeth. But the moment is here now, sitting right in front of him — just when he thought he might die a virgin — and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“My… My mouth?”

You nod again, quick to reassure him. “Only if you want to. You don’t have to—”

“Wanna do everything with you,” he interjects without realizing.

“Everything?” you smirk with raised brows and bright eyes. “Think you can handle that, Munson?”

Fuck no, I can barely take this, he thinks to himself.

But instead of saying all that, he just shrugs. “Got to.”

His breath leaves him in a shaky exhale that you can feel against your warmed skin as he nears you. He presses a tentative, too sweet kiss to your sternum and your eyes flutter shut. Not out of pleasure maybe, but from the sheer softness of his touch. 

It feels illegal to be handled so gently, like you were some endangered species that he had to be careful with. There’s a lingering sense of undeserving that you have to bat away.

He’s reserved with his kisses at first, only brushing his lips against your tits like he’s trying to commit how they feel to his memory. You only wish he’d do more, leave you whining and gleaming with his spit. 

But there’s something spellbinding about his meticulous touches, like he’s trying to wind you up until you snap. You like that.

So be it, if you have to suffer through some teasing, as long as he’ll break you after.

His tongue darts at against your sternum and you moan.

It was accidental, of course, he was just wetting his drying lips, but you seemed to enjoy it. So he keeps doing it.

He lets himself become more assured in the way he touches you, because you seem to like everything he’s done so far. And when his kisses grow wetter and deeper and more passionate, you start to buck your hips against his lap.

He’s not even completely sure if you realize it.

Unthinking, he turns his head and takes your nipple into his mouth. It was instinctual more than anything, it just felt right to touch you there. It’s easy to stop overthinking when you moan louder for him. 

He’s got his right hand kneading the skin of your right breast while he mouths at the left one, flicking his tongue against the delicate bud while it’s sucked between his teeth. Your cry is breathy, ethereal, heavenly. Your hands dart to his head, entwining your fingers with the curly strands as you hold him to you.

“God, you're so sweet,” he practically moans against you, reveling in your taste and the feeling of your clothed pussy against his thigh. “And sensitive— god, that’s so fucking hot.”

“Eddie,” you moan when he licks you with a flattened tongue.

He stops for a moment, looking at you with wide, twinkling, innocent fucking eyes, like he’s not effectively ruining you. “Is this good?”

“’S fucking perfect, Eds,” you manage to assure him, though it’s hard to form thoughts of any kind, much less words. 

You’re still so wildly turned on from getting Eddie to come in his jeans. It’s got you so embarrassingly close to coming, but the boy mouthing at your sensitive tits doesn’t seem to care, so you don’t either.

He keeps his focus on your chest, switching between squeezing one and licking the other. The combination of his rings rutting against your nipple and his tongue playing wetly with it is a wild one.

All you can feel is Eddie. All you can think about is Eddie.

He’s got you chasing the bleary haze of pleasure against his thigh, moaning at the deviously sweet friction of your cotton panties against your clit.

“God, I’m so wet for you right now,” you moan into his ear, words slurred and quiet. 

You’re not trying to drive him crazy, you just are. 

He exhales deeply through his nose with his mouth still on you. His breath fans against you and makes you shiver. He grips you hips and pulls you closer to him, desperate to have you nearer like your tit isn’t in his mouth and you’re not getting off on his thigh. 

You’re further against his lap now, practically sitting on his hip, and the position change puts all the more pressure on your clit. When you buck your hips against him now, that’s where you feel it all — the pleasure is so concentrated on the cotton-clad, terribly delicate button that it makes you whimper with every pass. 

Eddie shows no mercy.

His large hands start to control your movements, squeezing your hip on the up stroke and pressing you harder against him, before gently releasing his hold on the down stroke.

“Eddie,” you cry fragilely.

He pulls off of your tit with a pop. “Yeah?”

“‘M so close.”

“…Okay,” he nods like an idiot, staring up at you with a gaping gaze.

Fortunately for him, your eyes are squeezed shut in bliss, so you don’t see the the brief flare of panic that flashes over his features. He tries to remember what guys do in porn when their girls start getting close.

They talk them through it, right? the stream of consciousness in his head tells him. 

But here’s the thing about Eddie — the boy can’t talk to save his life. He’s good at telling off Jason Carver (because fuck that guy) and he’s even better when he’s campaigning, but put a pretty girl in front of him and the dumb facade of the snarky metalhead boy goes out the window. He’s got no earthly idea of what to say now. 

So, in running theme of the entirety of this night, he just says what feels right to say.

“Can you come for me?” he asks you, sounding somehow more desperate for your pleasure than you are. “Please?”

You moan louder, hold him closer, hump his thigh him faster.

He wonders, then, if dirty talking is your thing. He makes a mental note to get better at it for you for next time — if there is a next time, the voice in his head reminds him bitterly. 

He remembers that this might be the only time he’ll ever get to touch you. He fears that you’ll still think he only wanted to do this because of some stupid deal you made and never allow him the chance to prove that you’re more than just his favorite customer.

But he figures if this is the last time he gets to have you — if he can make you come so hard that you see stars, and if he can commit this whole night to memory — he’ll be the happiest dumbass alive.

“Can you come while I suck on your tits?” Eddie continues to plea before scratching your spit-soaked nipple with his teeth. Your cry racks through your chest. “—You sound so damn pretty when I do it.”

“Yes,” you moan with your head tilted towards the ceiling. He can’t tell if it’s an affirmative answer to his question or a chant of a mindless prayer. “Yes, yes, yes—”

His touch is all consuming, ardent in a way you haven’t felt before. You don’t have to work at your orgasm for it to rise within you, don’t have to think to climb the peaks of pleasure. It’s quite the opposite, really.

You don’t have to work for it, because it’s chasing you. You don’t have to think about anything, because you can’t. 

There’s a fire welling within you that leaves you momentarily frightened because you haven’t felt anything like it before.

He’s long past winding you up, you fear, now he wants you to snap.

So you do.

With one final pass up his lap, you still against him, though your legs keep shaking something fierce around his thigh.

Your mouth falls open in a moan, though it doesn’t quite leave that way — you’re silent for a moment, before a meek and fragile cry escapes your throat and fills the empty trailer.

Your hips twitch in time with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Eddie stays with his mouth against your chest and grumbles a moan when he can feel the subtle throbbing of your clit against his thigh. 

He doesn’t have much choice in the matter, anyway, because you keep him firmly locked to your tits with your hands in his hair while you come down from your high. He doesn’t much care either. He’d happily drool on your tits every day of the week if you’d let him.

The post-orgasm haze is slow to fade.

You’re buzzing at his touch, feeling fuzzy like you’re stranded on some white, puffy cloud. You just feel Eddie — his hands, his mouth — and that’s when you realize the hold you’ve got on him.

You’re quick to unravel your fingers from his curls and sputter out an apology even in your bleary haze. “Oh— shit— I’m so sorry—”

“No, it’s okay. I liked it,” Eddie assures as you pet his wild head. He pulls back and smiles sloppily at you with pink lips all swollen from his kisses and shiny with his spit.

“Oh?” you hum with a similar lazy grin. “You like having your hair pulled, huh?  That’s good to know.”

His eyes fall back to your chest. Your tits glisten with his spit, rising and falling with each of your heavy breaths and catching the light in different places — the red lovebites he’d sucked onto your supple skin, the hardened and raw buds of your nipples.

It makes him feel like he’s claimed you in some way and the thought has him growing hard again.

He shifts his hips beneath you in attempts to soothe the ache blossoming between his legs. You twitch and breathe out an almost inaudible moan when his thigh brushes against your still sensitive pussy. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes meekly, though he doesn’t really mean it. He wants to do it again, wants to make you come again, and keep making you come until you can’t decide if you’re crying for him to stop or to keep going.

He can feels your damp pussy on his leg. He wonders if you’ve stained his pants. He hopes you’ve stained his pants.

It makes his head spin to imagine what your panties must look like right now, all sticky with a wet spot in the center of the dainty cotton, your pussy drenched and gooey with your come. His mouth waters with the sudden desire to taste you. 

“I made the mess,” he’d tease you with your words from earlier, slipping your drenched panties to the side and sliding a finger between your velvety lips. “Let me clean it up.” 

Instead, he just apologizes like an idiot and lets you slip away.

“’S okay,” you breathe with your head tilted backward, still on the come down.

“Was that… Was that good for you?”

“Eddie,” you huff in a scold. “I’d tell you if it wasn’t.”

“…Would you?” he presses.

“Probably not,” you concede with a shrug and then look at him with a playful smile. “But it was good. It was fucking amazing. I mean, I can’t even feel my legs right now, so… You should really work on your confidence when it comes to the whole sex thing.”

He sighs. “You’re probably right.”

“Maybe I can help you...”

“Please,” he begs in a whisper and happily accepts the kiss you press to his lips. It’s slower than before, less messy but no less passionate. It’s soft and sickly sweet, a series of small pecks that makes his heart sing. He never thought someone would be this gentle with him.

The washer beeps a grating and daunting beep, beep, beep that Eddie curses because it puts an end to the sweet moment. You rise from his lap with one last, lingering kiss, and pull the hem of your skirt back down your thighs.

Still in your soaked panties and totally topless, you waltz from his living room and into the kitchen. 

You bend over to retrieve his clean pants from the washing machine, momentarily flashing the supple round of your ass, before throwing the clothes into the drier. The thing rumbles lowly in the quiet and clanks every time it beats against the washer.

Eddie watches from afar, his head lolled against the back of the couch. This must be a dream, he figures, because there’s no way you’re real.

There’s an angel in his trailer, washing his cum-stained jeans after getting off on his thigh, and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve it.

“You’re good to get them out of the drier, yeah?”

“Yeah, I think I can do that,” he answers with a breathy laugh. “But if it means you have to stay for another hour, then no, I’ve never worked a drier in my life.”

Your smile is a sheepish one that you bite to conceal as you waltz back over to him. 

You want to stay, you do, but it’s late. And his uncle is bound to come home from work in the following hours. You want Eddie when you’re allowed take your time with him, when there’s no threat that someone might catch you — no risk, no responsibilities, just two people who want to make each other feel good. 

If he even wants that, you think to yourself.

The negative self-talk always seems to arrive after you’ve fucked. Most people get a taste of you and don’t go back for seconds. Why would he be any different?

You tug your sweater back over your head. Without your bra to hide you, he can see the perfect outline of your nipples through the soft material. Eddie tries not to stare.

He fails.

“I gotta get home,” you tell him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. “I’ve got a cat to feed and… everything.”

“Oh. Right… Okay.”

He sounds both disappointed and dismissive, like he wants you to stay but doesn’t care enough to make you.

You might’ve, if he’d asked, Bowie would surely survive until an extra early breakfast. You wouldn’t even need to have sex or makeout or anything, you’re all too happy just to spend time with Eddie in this rundown trailer on the wrong side of town.

But he doesn’t ask. And he won’t.

Because he doesn’t know any of that.

As far as he’s concerned, you’re in a rush to get home because you don’t want to be here anymore. Watching you get dressed, Eddie’s starting to feel like this was just a one time thing. He came, he returned the favor, and now he’s only got the memory of you twitching against him while you orgasmed with your tits in his mouth.

He grieves the moment like he’s lost something real and starts to let you leave without saying a goddamn word.

You’re standing at the screen door with your hand on the knob when he notices your pearl-colored bra strewn on the floor. 

“Hey! You, uh, you left, your um…” he can’t seem to say the words as he stands with it in his hand, motioning for you to take it. You don’t make an effort to retrieve it, however, as you smile tiredly at him from across the living room. 

“I kinda did that on purpose,” you confess bashfully. “So I could have an excuse to come back...”

Eddie glows red with your admission. “Oh. Well. You don’t— You don’t need an excuse to come over.”

“No?”

“No. You can just… pop in, you know, whenever,” he shrugs sheepishly, with his head to his chest and his syrup-y eyes peering through his lashes. “To smoke or… to hang out… or...”

“Fuck?” you finish with a half-sincere laugh.

Eddie shrugs again. “Whatever you wanna do.”

“You said we were gonna do everything, remember?” you remind with a teasing grin and eyes that glimmer with mischief. Eddie nods quickly, all bright and excited like a ball of sunshine and your smile grows. “I’m looking forward to it, then.”

That’s how you leave him, half-hard with the promise of more.

Eddie Munson is so in over his head he can’t breathe. He isn’t completely sure if he wants to. He’s all too happy to drown in you.  And It’s scary, a fun kind of scary, like going on a rollercoaster. 

He’s never felt this way before and doesn’t want it to stop. 

Fuck, he can’t wait to do everything with you.

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

[rainylana]

“It’s just a cut.” Part three!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

warnings: physical abuse, mentions of injuries and wounds, emotional turmoil, angst and lots of tears, readers mother is in jail, language, hospitals, reader and eddie are at heavy odds, mentions of betrayal and broken trust. let me know if i missed anything! original request by @h-ness1944

note: i hope everyone is doing okay! enjoy this new instillation of the series, and let me know what you thought about it! this particular series seems to take a toll, so please share your thoughts! it means the world to me!!:) as of right now, this is the final chapter. the ending isn’t necessarily a cliffhanger, but it’s not exactly a solid ending, either! hope you enjoy!

You had shut the world out and everyone in it, refusing to speak or comply with anyone. You were throwing a tantrum, you knew that, but you were too heartbroken to care. Eddie had betrayed you, the one person you loved most in the world had done what you had asked not to do. You wouldn’t talk to the cops. You begged Eddie not to, begged him to keep his silence, but it was clear his feelings hadn’t changed. He couldn’t do it. 

He told the cops everything. From every bruise and wound he had tended, to the aches and cracks in your heart from harsh words. Of course, the police wanted to hear it from you, but from the extent of your injuries, they knew Eddie wouldn’t have been making it up.

The tried to talk to you multiple times, so did the nurses and your surgeon. Wayne tried, Eddie begged. The kids came in, so did Robin and Steve, but it was to no avail. It felt as if the whole world knew your secret. You felt nothing but shame and embarrassment, and the worst of all, betrayed and alone.

Your dad had been notified and was on the way, but the last thing you wanted was for family drama. You wanted to rot in that bed, and if you had it your way, you surely would. It had been almost two days since you last spoke to anyone. They’d given up, but not Eddie. He was determined to make you understand. He couldn’t loose you. A life without you in was one he didn’t want to have to live.

And as far as your mom went, you felt cold and empty. You didn’t know why. You didn’t care about your injuries, you’d been hurt before. You didn’t care about the mean things she had said before she pushed you down the stairs. You simply just didn’t care anymore. You didn’t want to see her, but you wished everything could go back to the way it was, as sick as it seemed. You were too hurt, too betrayed to feel anything else. All you felt was grief, and a horrible ache in your stomach.

You were to be on bedrest for the next three weeks so your wounds could heal properly, and you couldn’t wait to get the bandage off your nose so you could breath again. You looked terrible. As the days sat in your bruises began to change shape and color, your face decorated with marks of angry purple and red shades.

The only thing that could be heard in the room was the ticking of the clock, which happened to be running five minutes slow. You could barely move, only laying flat on your back with your head turned toward the window. There were so many damn flowers everyone you felt as if you were living in a greenhouse. 

Eddie had resorted to sitting outside your room. You’d made it very clear you didn’t want to see him, but he refused to leave you completely. He’d come in every now and then, asking if you needed anything, tearing up with another I’m sorry. He never got a response.

If he loved you like he said he would, he wouldn’t have betrayed you. He wouldn’t have broken your trust like he did. He wouldn’t have turned your entire world upside down and ripped out your heart. You wondered if you’d ever be able to look at him the same again.

•

“Ed, don’t you think you should go home and rest?” Wayne stood behind Eddie, watching him as he stared at stuffed animals in the gift shop of the hospital.

“I’m fine.” His voice was gruff and cold, almost matching yours the last time you spoke to him.

He was indeed, not fine, not in the slightest. He was completely pale and malnourished, hadn’t eaten in days or taken a shower. He hadn’t slept in almost five days, not properly, anyways. The heart in his chest that kept him alive was breaking second by second, and he wondered if it would completely shatter inside of him.

“Don’t start that with me.” Wayne comes up to the side of his nephew, glancing down at the teddy bear in his hands. “You’re not fine. You need sleep. I’ll stay with y/n. You go home and rest.”

“Wayne.” Eddie stressed, placing down the teddy bear, twirling around toward the exit of the shop. “Stop. Leave me alone.” He walked as quickly as he could out of the store, ignoring the have a good day from the check out lady. He walked with angry, heavy steps, so quickly that his hair bounced with each step of his boots. He could hear his uncle trailing behind him.

“I can’t leave her, Wayne.” He stopped in front of the elevator, pushing the button with a ringed finger. “If you want to go home go ahead, but I’m staying put.” The elevator opened and he was walking inside, leaning against the metal wall with crossed arms. “Are you coming or not?”

Of course, Wayne followed, not ready to give up on his son.

“You’re just as stubborn as she is, you know?” The old man said gruffly, the hot temperature of the elevator making him sweat. “You’re no good to her like that. You’re dead on your feet, boy.”

Eddie stared at the floor and ignored every word, at least tried to, and thought about you staring at the wall, the same spot that you had for the last two days. Would you ever speak to him again? Was any of this worth it? Would the two of you ever be the same? He knew the answer already, whether the two of you were together or not, nothing would be the same in your relationship. That was inevitable.

•

Your nose killed you, your face aching with the weight of your tears that had your bones throbbing with pain. Your shoulders shook with the weight of your sobs, your mouth clamped shut as to not alert anyone that you were awake. It was almost four in the morning and you’d awaken up from another bad dream. You couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried.

You were just so sad. You missed your mom, you’d come to that conclusion. You missed her and wanted to be home. You wanted to see your dad. You wanted to be in your own bed. But most of all, you wanted Eddie to hold you in his arms, wanted him to tell you that everything would be okay and that he loved you. You craved him more than anything.

But where did you both stand? The last thing you told him was that you’d never speak to him again, you’d threatened to break up with him. Yet he had stayed. He hadn’t left at all. Or had he? You hadn’t seen him almost all day. The thought made you sob, hoping to god that he was still outside your room.

You looked to the door, flexing your leg. You were barely able to stand with help from the nurses, you surely wouldn’t make it out there on your own. You whimpered and fell back into the bed, covering your face with your good arm, the other now in a cast, and cried brokenly.

“Y/n?”

You jumped and uncovered your face, eyes widening at the familiar face. “Wayne.” You cried, holding out your arm. You broke down into heavy tears at the sight of him as he shut the door, quickly hurrying over to you.

“Hey, hey, shh.” He sat on the bed and scooted to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you carefully into his side. “I got ya, kid. You’re okay.”

You bawled into his shirt, the comforting smell of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke brining a sense of calm over you. Your body shook in his arms, and you cried for everything in that moment, like you were mourning for the entire world.

“It’s okay, darlin. You’re okay.” His face watched etched with concern, have debating whether or not he should go get Eddie from the chapel, but he knew he’d be sound asleep. He shouldn’t leave you, he decided, holding you closer and letting you cry out everything you needed to.

“I don’t know-” Your breath hitched, fingers fisting at his shirt. “what to do.”

The weight of your sobs made it difficult to understand you completely. He kissed the top of your head, shushing you gently.

“I’m so..s-scared.” You whimpered, face burning with a broken ache. You were becoming inconsolable, hysterical with your broken heart, you didn’t even hear the door open up.

“Wayne?” Eddie’s eyes were wide at the sight of your distress, freezing him in his spot. Wayne looked from you to Eddie, knowing that it was his nephew that you really needed. He nodded him over, gently trading him spots as Eddie quickly and carefully swapped spots to hold you close.

“Shh, shh, baby, baby.” He coos, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. You’re not cold or distant, you relish the scent of him, bawling into his chest like a lost little girl. “I’m here. I’m here.”

He was so relieved to hold you, so happy that you were allowing him to comfort you. You’d probably hate him again in the morning, refuse to speak to him probably, but this, this was a step forward. He heard the click of the door shut and he was left alone with you, kissing the shell of your ear. “I’m here, baby.”

•

You were left with hiccups and an awkward silence that neither of you knew how to fill. He continued to hold you, almost two hours later. The sun was beginning to rise and you knew the nurses would be making their rounds to your room soon. You weren’t as relaxed into him as you were, now tense and unsure where to keep your arm.

He felt the same way. He rubbed his hand up your arm, trying to keep connected with you, but the awkwardness in the room continued to grow heavy, your tears having long since stopped. He didn’t know what to say and neither did you.

You couldn’t help but groan, your head killed you from your breakdown.

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You said hoarsely, bringing your shaky hand up to your nose. “Just my nose. My head is killing me.”

He sat up, examining the darker shades of your face. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m okay.” You we’re tired of them pestering you every five minutes with medicine in little plastic cups, trying to get you to use your legs, despite the fact the doctor wanted you on bedrest.

You held your face and he watched you, swallowing dryly as he tried to find words. There was so many things he wanted to say, but would you listen? He got up and walked to the window, peeking out the blinds at the sun that was beginning to rise. He stretched awkwardly, a crick in his neck that made his own head hurt, too.

You looked at his back, trying your hardest not to cry. You had the urge to apologize, but did you have anything to apologize for? Was this your fault? Eddie was clearly suffering, but so were you.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out. Sorry for what exactly, you didn’t know. You couldn’t forgive him, could you? Could you forgive him for the way everyone was looking at you now? Could you forgive the fact that your mom was in jail?

He twirled around, eyes narrowing in confusion at your words. “For what?”

You gulped, not able to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” I’m sorry you’re in pain. You could be sorry for that. You still loved him, after all, despite everything that happened.

“Do you hate me?” He asked, looking toward your bed. “For telling?”

It felt so back and forth. You were so sure of your feelings one minute, then completely changed the next. “I don’t hate you.” You answer honestly, voice dry and cracked. “But It’s hard to look at you.”

He nodded once briefly. He understood the feeling. It was your turn then, to look at him, finally taking in just how rough he looked. His hair was matted and greasy, desperate to be washed. He was exhausted completely. “Have you went home at all?” You ask, halfway sat up in your bed, good hand at your stitched side.

He gulped, shaking his head.

You frowned. “Eddie,” You began. “You should go home. I’m okay.”

He finally turned away from the window, standing their awkwardly in the middle of the floor. “Do you want me to go?”

No. No, you didn’t. But it wasn’t fair to make him stay just for your sake. He looked like he was going to pass out any second. He needed food and rest. “I want you to take care of yourself.” You answer. “You don’t have to stay here on my account.”

He gave you a look then. I want you to take care of yourself. He wanted the same for you, yet he was the bad guy. He furrowed his brows, licking his fry lips. “Okay.”

He made it halfway across the room before you stopped him again. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” You say, closing your eyes.

He sighs that time, becoming irritated himself. “Why, y/n? Why are you sorry? There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

You shake your head, nose throbbing. “I don’t- I don’t know. I just feel like I should say it, so I am.”

His hand was on the doorknob, and he rested his forehead against the door. “You don’t know what this has been like for me. I had to tell them, y/n. I understand you’re mad, but you don’t need to apologize. You have no reason to.”

Your eyes start to tear up, and you can feel the damp feeling of your bandage against your nose. “You didn’t have to.” You look to the wall again. Your safe spot. “But I know you felt like you did.”

He scoffed without humor, looking back at you like you were crazy. His eyes were matching yours with tears. “I didn’t have to? Is that some sort of joke? Do you not realize the situation you’re in? You could have died, y/n. You almost died.”

You cringed at his words and clamped a hand over your mouth. “But mom is in jail now. She’s going to go to prison.”

“Good riddance!” He couldn’t help but raise his voice, an angry tear spilling over his face. “Fuck her! I hope she rots in there! I don’t care how upset that makes you, y/n, it’s true. She’s a shit mom and deserves what she got!”

You sobbed with each word that spat, glaring at him over your fingers with a look that could kill. “That’s not true! She’s my mom, Eddie! I’m okay!”

“No, you’re not!” He marched over and pointed his finger at you. “You flew through a fuckin’ window and tore your stomach to shreds!” He took a deep breath, that soon had him releasing a sob. “Do you know how scared I was waiting for you to come out of surgery? The doctors didn’t know if you’d pull through, y/n. Do you have any idea how fucking messed up in the head I am now?” He was weeping freely, pacing across the room.

“Don’t you dare say you’re okay.” He said sternly. “Do you really care that little for yourself? Do you hate yourself so much that you don’t care for your own safety? Do you want to die that badly? Well, I won’t watch it. I won’t sit here and watch you wilt away. I can’t, baby.”

You were blubbering and carrying on, saying things that couldn’t understand. “I’m sorry.” He managed to hear through your broken sobs. “I’m so sorry, Eddie!”

You looked up at him with a bloodied nose, hot tears and snot pooling at your cupid’s bow. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you so bad, Eddie. Please, please don’t leave me!”

“Y/n,” He crumbled, going to you. “Stop apologizing, you silly girl.” No matter the fight, he would always go to you. “Aren’t you listening to me? You haven’t done anything. It’s your mother. She’s the one who’s hurt you, hurt us.”

He held your face and wiped the blood from your nose. “Please, forgive me, baby. I’m sorry. I promise, I won’t ever let you get hurt again. I’ll protect you if you let me, please let me.”

He’s kissing your hands, moving up your good arm and to your cheek. “God, I missed you, baby.”

“I love you.” You cried, gripping at his shoulder. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

I love you. He sobbed at the words. You still loved him. He said it back lovingly, muttering the words he forgave you as you said the same. Neither of you realized just how hard it would be to move forward, but that was the thing about love, it conquered above all else.

Over time, you’d come to terms about your mom. Your dad would move down to Hawkins until you graduated, where eventually you and Eddie would have your own place. The abuse you had endured would be something that would always stick with you, but Eddie was your rock at the end of the day, and he’s the one that got you through it. Love always conquered all.

[elenawritesxx]

MATCHMAKING!

PAIRING - remus lupin x reader

SUMMARY - in which the academic rivalry between you and remus turns into something more with the help of his friends, who make sure that their best friends get his happy ending

WC - 821

EXTRA - mentions of drinking, dancing, remus being jealous, no mentions of y/n, lower case intended,

NOTES - hi angels, leaving you on cliffhanger heheh;) this was requested in my ask box and thought i would finally get it out, ik its short but let me know if you want the second part:)

PS. - english isn’t my first language so of you see any grammar or spelling mistakes please don’t hesitate to point them out<3

-

from the moment you and remus lupin first crossed paths, you two knew that you were destined to be rivals. both of you were exceptionally gifted students, with a thirst for knowledge that knew no bounds. and so, from that fateful day onwards, you engaged in a fierce competition that would last for almost the entirety of your time at hogwarts.

your rivalry manifested itself in many ways, from academic achievements to gaining more house points and everything in between. you vied for the top spot in every class, each determined to outshine the other and prove their superiority. and as the years went by, their rivalry only intensified, with neither willing to back down from the challenge.

yet, amidst the fierce competition and the constant battle for supremacy, you and found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that neither could explain. it was a connection that went beyond mere rivalry, a bond that defied logic and reason.

as the two of you navigated the treacherous waters of your academic rivalry, you and remus found solace in each other's company, sharing late-night study sessions (even if you two wouldn't say a word to each other, the comfortable silence was actually comforting) and engaging in spirited debates about your favorite subjects. you challenged each other's beliefs and pushed each other to new heights, each secretly admiring the other's intellect and determination.

but it wasn't until your fifth year at hogwarts that you and remus's rivalry took an unexpected turn. the marauders, remus's friends who were too tired of seeing their friend arguing with you and at the same tine punishing himself by not admitting his true feelings, decided to intervene, determined to help their friend realize his true feelings for you.

the rest of the marauders had a plan, and they were determined to make remus realize his feelings for you once and for all. they had enlisted the help of the girls, and they were all in on the plan. they knew that you had feelings for remus (even if you didn't know it yet), of course they did- they were your best friends after all. and so they were determined to help you win his heart.

the gryffindor common room was decorated with streamers and fairy lights, and the air was filled with the sound of laughter and music. they were all dressed to the nines, ready to have a good time.

lily was wearing a beautiful green dress that complemented her fiery red hair and made james’ jaw drop and eyes almost pop out of his sockets the moment she entered the common room, marlene was in a sleek black jumpsuit, and alice was in a stunning pink dress that matched her bubbly personality.

but it was you who caught remus's eye as soon as you walked into the room and made your way towards the girls, in need of a drink. remus couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy as he watched other guys eye you from head to toe from across the room.

as the night went on, the marauders put their plan into action. they made sure that you were always by remus's side, engaging him in the conversation and laughing at his awkward jokes (which to be fair were actually funny). they even got sirius to ask you to dance, knowing that it would make remus jealous.

but remus was too caught up in his own feelings to notice what was going on around him. he couldn't take his eyes off you, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different about you tonight. you seemed more confident, more sure of yourself, and it was driving him crazy.

as you danced with sirius, his hands on your body and you laughing at his stupid jokes, remus wished it was him instead, he hadn’t realized that his grip had tightened around the cup he was holding, his eyes narrowing. he wished it was his hands on you, dancing with him, and he realized he was longing the sound of your laughter at his admittedly stupid jokes.

it was then that Remus realized the depth of his feelings for you, a realization that both thrilled and terrified him. he had spent so long denying his feelings, burying them deep within his heart, that he didn't know how to express them. he was scared, terrified from both the fact that there was a possibility you didn’t share his feelings back, and the possibility of him hurting you one way or another.

with a surge of determination, and maybe too much of alcohol in his system, even tho he couldn’t really get drunk due to his condition, he still could get tipsy, and the tipsy remus was way more confident than the sober remus. he made his way over to you and sirius, his heart pounding in his chest. he had to tell you how he felt, before it was too late.