#upside diner au

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Ready to roll?

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 9

Prompt: No Upside Down AU

Rated: T

CW: one mention of masturbation bc Eddie is a horny little shit

Tags: Future fic; Flirting; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in rollerblades

Notes: Another collab with the amazingly talented and creative @house-of-the-moving-image - check out their art!

"What?" Eddie says eloquently, tearing his eyes from the laminated menu. 

The waiter is hovering next to his booth, pen tapping against the notepad in his hand. He looks annoyed. Probably pissed at Eddie for interrupting his quiet night shift. Well, tough luck, pretty boy. 

"I said …" the waiter pauses, heaves a brief but heartfelt sigh. "Are you ready to roll?" 

Eddie blinks. 

"Listen, dude!" The waiter says flatly, but there's a blush blossoming on his neck. "I'd ask if I may take your order, but I'm, like, contractually obfuscated to say … this instead. Goes with the theme, y’know?" 

He gestures at the entirety of himself. The cheerfully colored shirt and tiny shorts. The little apron around his waist. The knee-high socks disappearing into a pair of chunky, red-and-white rollerblades, and … oh, right. 

"Well?" 

Eddie snaps his eyes back up and shit, for how long has he been staring at those legs like a creep?

The waiter is scowling at him. He really is pretty. Exactly Eddie’s type. Gold-flecked eyes, stupidly voluminous hair, pink lips twisted into a bitchy little scowl. Eddie imagines pushing him up against the wall on those stupid wheels of his, sucking and biting that scowl right off. 

"Hm," he makes instead. "The guys at the label said I'd enjoy the cake, but I'm starting to think they weren't talking about the menu." 

The scowl deepens. 

"Cheeseburger and fries," Eddie says. "And a strawberry milkshake." 

One elegant eyebrow arches. 

"... Please?" 

Waiter boy smirks at him, a brief flash of perfectly white teeth. Eddie wants to lick them. 

"Coming right up." He jots the order down, shoves pen and notepad into his apron pocket. As he does, Eddie catches a glimpse of the name tag attached to his uniform shirt. (Which has nothing to do with him ogling the way the fabric stretches over that toned chest, because he wasn't doing that, thank you.)

It says "Hi, I'm Steve. :-)"

Wait, what? 

The whirr of rollerblades on the floor tiles jerks him out of his stupor. He's glad he didn't take off his sunglasses, because holy fuck, he must be gawking like an idiot right now. 

Because he knows a guy named Steve. Or knew. 

A guy named Steve with perfect, caramel hair, tan skin littered in moles and an irritatingly pretty, aloof smile. Not that Eddie was ever at the receiving end of that smile. The closest Eddie ever got to him was back in eighty-six, when he was dealing drugs out of his van. In the driveway of that palace in Loch Nora, while the King and his court partied inside. 

Eddie watches how waiter boy comes gliding out of the kitchen, wipes down tables and refills napkin holders. 

It can't be. 

Steve Harrington is back in the hellhole that is Hawkins, Indiana - or maybe at some college halfway across the country, preparing to take over daddy's business. He's most certainly not wearing rollerblades and a pair of stupidly short shorts, waiting tables in a cheap twenty-four hour diner in Seattle. 

Then again, back in eighty-six, who would've thought that Eddie Munson would be owning his own record label one day? 

When waiter boy arrives with his order and leans in to put it down on the table, Eddie peers over his sunglasses to cast an inconspicuous look at his profile. 

There's a pair of moles on his neck, near identical in size, spaced apart like a perfect little vampire bite. 

Well, slap his ass and call him Sally. 

Eddie knows these moles, has spent entire nights jerking off to the thought of sinking his teeth into them. 

"Staring costs extra," Steve mutters at the milkshake. 

Before Eddie can say anything, the phone on the counter rings and Steve rolls over to answer it. Eddie chews on his too-salty fries and can't help the grin that tugs at his lips as he watches the boy twirl the cord around his fingers while taking the order. 

The night just officially got interesting.

Steve looks over, catches him staring and gives him the flattest, most unimpressed look Eddie has ever seen on a person who just realized they were being checked out. The blush has reached his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Eddie winks and Steve rolls his eyes before he turns his back on him. Eddie doesn’t complain. That ass does look fantastic in the shorts.

He takes his time with the meal. The burger is nothing to write home about, but the view more than makes up for it.

When he is done, he saunters over to the counter, pulling out his wallet. Steve is busy counting mayonnaise packages and muttering under his breath. He blinks in confusion when Eddie slaps down a fifty, starts digging for change in his apron. 

"Nah," Eddie says. "Just keep it." 

Steve frowns at him. "That's way too much." 

"Don't sell yourself short. I thought staring was extra?"

Steve opens his mouth. Hesitates. Closes it. Pockets the money. 

"Thanks," he murmurs, eyes trained at some point behind Eddie's shoulder. "Roll by again."

Eddie just barely manages to turn the incoming snort into a grin.  

"Sure will,” he mutters, leaning across the counter and into the boy’s space. “Maybe I'll try that cake next time." 

"Oh, please," Steve huffs. "As if you could afford me, Munson." 

Eddie feels his jaw drop. "Wait, you knew who-" 

The doorbell chimes. 

"Hi there!" Steve chirps at the guy in the door. "You called, right? I'll check if your order is ready." 

And then he's gone and Eddie is staring at the still swinging kitchen door like an idiot. 

It isn't until he's back out in the dark street that his confusion morphs into something else. His majesty wants to play coy? Well, Eddie can indulge him, can't he? 

He makes his way home with a new spring in his step. Looks like he's found his new favorite dinner spot.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Take your time while your mine (and smoke slow)

Author: @cunnninghams

Rating/Warning: Teen and Up Audiences

Chapter Count: 2/2

Description: You don’t smoke,” Eddie said dumbly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She straightened her shoulders as she sat up, and Eddie watched, dumbfounded and like a deer in headlights as she reached for the pack of Lucky Strikes laying on the concrete between them. “Yeah, well — today I do.”

Tags: waitress!chrissy, linecook!eddie, diner au, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate universe- no vecna, Friends to Lovers, Coworkers to lovers, Mutual Pinings, light angst, Fluff, Chrissy Cunningham Needs a Hug, Eddie Munson is Soft for Chrissy Cunningham, smoke breaks as a plot device, dumb amount of restaurant slang, benny’s diner is poppin and argyle makes the best pancakes in town, idiots in love, post-high school, Alternating POV, Two-shot, Status: Completed

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad

Quite surprised there’s not a lot of these AUs considering how much Steve apparently sleeps around but anywho.

Teen Dad Steve who finds out one of the girls he’d slept with pre-Nancy is pregnant and he damn well intends on helping out however he can.

Turns out; helping means taking his son (his SON) and having full custody because the mom, no matter how much she wants to be involved, can’t take care of him.

Steve’s alright for the first 6 months of little Louie Harrington’s life.

But then his parents come home and shit hits the fan.

Which— fair enough. He was only 17 and already had a whole ass son, they were gonna freak out.

But kicking him AND aforementioned son out? With no where to go? No money? Barely a job?

That’s just fucked up.

But Steve makes do, and lives out of his car for no more than a month before finally landing his hands on a cheap trailer in Forest Hills.

He and Louie move in and sure, it’s rough. But he’s got a nice paying job at the Diner and yeah maybe he has to skip some classes to get extra money but it’s fine. It pays his bills and rent and that’s all that really matters.

It’s fine.

And then the second wave of Upside Down fuckery hits, and Steve’s suddenly in the hospital with a grade 4 concussion (whatever that means) and his top priority is to make sure someone is with Louie.

Enter Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom.

She takes care of Louie for as long as Steve is in the hospital and then some when Steve can’t be left unsupervised in case his head worsens.

And that’s how the Party is introduced to little Louie (as they all call him).

Steve’s stunned to find out that Mike and Lucas are so good with little kids, but the two of them love stopping by the Henderson’s (and later on the trailer) to see little Louie and offer to babysit for him whenever.

The other kids take a little bit of time to warm up to Louie (and the fact that Steve’s actually a parent) but when they do Steve never ceases to have at least one of them over.

And with all the racket brings in the attention of nosy neighbors.

Steve is well accustomed to nosy neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln next door to his parents were always looking to snitch on him for something or other.

But Miss Bottomette and her grandchildren Noah and Casey were sweethearts. Steve didn’t mind having them over for dinner or going over there. Miss Bottomette was the one to teach him how to actually put his cooking skills to work.

Linda and Tom, a newly married couple down the road, were quite eccentric but that’s what made them charming. Steve found their dog, Dasher, quite the sweetheart.

And even Mr. Knowles, the grouchy old man next door to Miss Bottomette, seemed to take a liking to Steve and Louie.

It wasn’t long before the story behind the new boy in 2718 New Bird Ave was revealed: Teen Dad Kicked Out.

Then the whole town knew. And while most people were nice about it, even supportive of how he had taken a step into his child’s life, there were always those people who sneered.

Steve ignored them, loving the life he was working on making for himself and Louie in the trailer park.

The only neighbors he never seemed to meet, despite the looming presence, were the Munsons, right across the street.

Steve knew about the Munsons. Well— he knew about Eddie Munson; drug dealer who was on his second run of senior year. Steve actually shared a few classes with him.

He’d yet to meet the mysterious Wayne Munson, but that was to be expected with work schedules.

And then Steve was graduating, and his parents didn’t show up.

But that was totally fine. Cause the kids, Claudia, Joyce— even Hopper with El— were there. They held up little baby Louie while Steve walked the stage.

He’d heard rumors of Eddie Munson having to retake senior year for a third time— but he didn’t dwell on it for too long. Because sure, he missed more than his fair share of classes and scraped by with a C+ average.

But he did it.

And then summer hit, Dustin left for camp, and the mall opened up.

Steve picked up a job at Scoops Ahoy, cutting back on his hours at the Diner but still staying there because the money was needed and the tips were lovely.

And he meets Robin Buckley, and actually talks to Eddie Munson every once in a while when he stops in with his band, and lets the kids sneak into the movies because he’ll be damned if he robs them of a normal summer.

And then Dustin comes back and their reunion is short-lived because Russians are hellbent on torching non-existent information out of Steve and he’s busy getting his third concussion and then there’s a fucking flesh monster and Billy and Hopper for protecting them and—

It’s not a good night.

But then he’s rushed to the hospital and he tries to call Miss Bottomette only for the call to refuse to go through and shitfuckgoddammit.

Because what about Louie?

Miss Bottomette said she’d be alright watching Louie until Steve got home, but Steve wasn’t able to go home until someone was able to make time to take him home.

Usually, he’d lean on Hopper for this stuff, since his parents were out of the question. But—

But Hoppers dead.

So he’s stuck at the hospital for another day or two until finally, Claudia comes to pick him up.

He’s with Dustin in the backseat of the car, anxiously bouncing his leg and biting at his fingers and nails until Dustin gives in and just holds his hand. Robin’s there to, having been able to leave after the first night but coming with Claudia to pick him up. Steve’s relieved to have them both close by, even if his hands reach for Erica subconsciously.

His trailer’s empty when he gets home, and Miss Bottomette isn’t answering the door.

Steve’s on the brink of a full blown breakdown before Mr. Knowles— bless his heart— points them across the street.

The Munsons apparently have his son and have for a bit now since Miss Bottomette had a minor seizure and couldn’t be left alone with Louie. Mr. Knowles assured Steve that she and the kids were fine and staying with him for the moment.

Steve wasted no time afterwards sprinting to the Munsons and knocking on the door. Dustin and Robin are close behind him, Claudia waiting patiently in the driveway.

The door is answered by a gruff looking old man that’s taller than Dustin but slightly shorter than both Robin and Steve.

“You Harrington?”

Steve nods so fast he faintly wonders if that’s how bobble heads feels.

They’re let in in no time and the old man— the infamous Wayne Munson— calls out of Eddie.

Eddie Munson emerges a moment later with little Louie in his arms, bouncing softly on his feet to keep the baby calm.

Steve is in front of him in a second, scooping Louie gently out of his arms and into his own.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Dustin’s rubbing his arms and Robin his back. Claudia is talking to Wayne, explaining what had happened (or the cover story version at least) and Eddie is hanging back a few feet from the three of them.

Robin takes little Louie in her arms and shoos Steve to the couch to calm down.

“Let him meet his auntie, Steve. You take a minute to breathe now, yeah?”

Steve was led to the couch with a soft hand on his shoulder from Eddie Munson, and they sat side by side while Steve worked on easing his breathing and to stop fucking crying.

Eddie’s shushing him and after a moment (and a clearly pointed cleared throat from Robin) Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shaking figure.

They leave the Munsons’ trailer is promises of new babysitters and a new friendship.

And then the fuckery that’s 1986 happens.

.

First Part:

[stevebabey]

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3 | ao3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 9

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: you and Felix go on an excursion and tensions are high while you wait for time to pass

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

You wake up in an entanglement of limbs. 

You feel it before you can see it, really. The warmth of Felix’s body on yours. Legs intertwined with legs, you currently lay with your head on his chest and his arms around your waist. Cracking your eyes open, you're met with a sleeping Felix, breathing slow and heavy, his breath warm on the top of your head. He looks so serene, almost like a child with the expressionless look on his face. 

Your heart flutters. You wish it didn't. 

You pry yourself out of the warmth of his embrace, not breathing as you wiggle out between his limbs in an attempt to not wake him. God forbid he wakes up and sees the position you’re in. What would he say? How would he react? Would it be awkward? You don’t want to find out. 

You make it to the bathroom, splashing water onto your face. You comb your fingers through your hair, doing your best to detangle it with what you've got. You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back. 

Last night, Yang Jungwon died right before your eyes. 

Where do you go from here? You can't go on pretending like things are normal anymore. They haven't been normal for a very long time, not since before you started dating Jungwon. You also know that running away isn’t exactly an option anymore… evident by the scars on your back inflicted by Chan that you had almost forgotten about. They accompany the many other bruises and scratches on your body now, so they aren’t quite out of place yet they serve as a not-so-gentle reminder of what to expect should you defy Chan. 

What now? You suppose you can lay low until you finally find an ample opportunity to escape, one that does not risk endangering you or your sister. Better would probably be to stay quiet and gather as much information as you can, to try to bargain your way out of the situation with Chan. Perhaps if you can one day find a way to leave on his terms you might be able to get what you want. You remember the night before, how Woojin implied that Chan could be in love with you… you feel the greasy diner food from the night before sit uneasily in your stomach, threatening to come back up. 

Sighing, you find yourself at a loss. When you crack open the bathroom door, you’re surprised to see Felix awake and sitting up in the bed. 

“Oh hey, you're up,” you say. You sit down next to him, hugging your knees to your chest. Felix yawns and rubs sleep from his eyes. “What time are we going back to the house?” You question.

“About that…” you blanch at his words, his voice deep and groggy from sleep. 

“You're kidding,” you say. “We're not going back?” 

“From my understanding, we have to wait for Lee Know to wake up,” he says, looking at his phone. “He’s in stable condition, so they expect it to be sometime today, but we still need the okay from Chris.” You sigh at the revelation. 

“So… what now?” 

“Breakfast?” He suggests. You purse your lips together, as if in thought. You still feel a little nauseous but food isn’t such a bad idea. Plus, you’re tired of feeling cooped up–getting out might not be the worst idea. 

You’re reminded of Felix telling you that Heeseung has plans to come after you next. You grimace. “Is it… okay to leave the motel? If the house isn’t safe, are you sure it’s okay to leave?” 

“You’ll be with me. You’ll be fine.” His words provide comfort, you suppose. And so, at eleven in the morning, you and Felix walk across the street to the diner. It’s where you assume he got your dinner last night and it’s bustling with life from the early morning lunch rush. In your matching pajamas, the two of you slide into the red and cream colored booth. You probably look comical but it feels… normal, almost. 

When the waitress comes up to your table she smells of cigarettes and sugar. She’s an older woman, curly blonde hair permed and framed around her face. Her makeup is a little bright, shades of periwinkle dabbled on her eyelids and lipstick blood red. Her name tag reads ‘Pam,’ and she reminds you of an old grandma, someone that might provide blunt comfort and real advice in a time of need.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?” She questions as she pulls out a notepad, voice deep and raspy with a southern drawl. 

“Oh we’re not–” 

“Can I get chocolate chip pancakes with a side of bacon?” Felix says, smiling sweetly at the waitress. “And a coffee, black.” 

“Of course. And for the lady?” 

You look at the menu. “Um, a waffle and orange juice. Thanks.” Felix takes your menu and hands it to the waitress. She smiles saccharine sweet and goes to the kitchen, leaving you and Felix alone. 

Neither of you speak. 

You fiddle with the silverware instead, staring out the window. 

The waitress arrives with your drinks. You take the opportunity to immediately start drinking it. Is this awkward? Why is it awkward? Is it because she implied you were a couple? Is it you making this awkward, or him? God, you hate your stupid brain and its stupid thoughts. 

You snap out of it when Felix takes a big sip of his drink and then makes a face as if he were disgusted. He takes another sip immediately which makes you laugh. 

“What?” 

“If it’s bad, why are you drinking it?” You ask with a smile. He brushes his hair back with his fingers, looking away. 

“It’s coffee. It’s not going to taste good.” 

“It’s supposed to,” you laugh. “It’s because you got a black coffee. Why won’t you add sugar or cream to it? That’ll help.”

“It still tastes bad. I don’t know. Nothing I’ve tried has ever helped.” He drinks his coffee again, following it up with that same face. You find it endearing. 

Breakfast goes by fairly normally after that. Felix laughs at you for drowning your waffles in maple syrup, ‘effectively ruining it,’ according to him. He shares some of his bacon with you, telling you that you need the protein if you want to bulk up. You laugh when he drops a piece of his pancake on the floor. It feels domestic. 

It distracts you. 

It distracts you from every horrible thing that has happened the past few days, and you delude yourself by thinking that maybe this is what life could be like from now on. What if Felix wasn’t in the mafia? What if things were different? Could this maybe, in some other reality, be a date? One where you didn’t have to worry about being a target, one where Lee Heeseung didn’t have an overwhelming grudge to have you dead or alive? You wish that it was over. Yang Jungwon is dead yet he still has a deadly grasp around your throat. You swallow thickly and decide you want to change the subject. 

“I want to see my sister,” you say. Felix nods at you solemnly, not in agreement but more in pity. He feels bad for you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says finally. You sigh. 

“Can’t you take me to her? Let me talk to her? Let her know that I’m safe?” 

“I can’t do that,” he replies softly. 

“Why?” 

“It’s not safe. I’m sure Jungwon knew where your sister lives? What if Heeseung is keeping an eye on her now? Contacting her could be a risk,” he explains. “It’s against Chris’ orders.” 

“Do you just blindly follow his orders? Do you know how to think for yourself?” you ask before you can help yourself. You clench your fists and unclench them, exhaling to keep the irritation at bay. “You don’t have to tell Chan,” you reason with him. “You can just take me. I won’t tell him.” 

He tongues the inside of his cheek. “It’s like you’re not even listening to me. I’m not blindly following his orders, but there’s a reason why we do things. There’s protocol to follow. Heeseung probably has careful eyes on her, and contacting her could put you both in danger.” 

“That’s more of a reason for me to talk to her!” you say. “She could be in danger. What if Heeseung–”

“She's fine,” he interrupts. 

“How do you know? There's no way.” 

“Listen, we’re keeping a careful eye on her–” 

“Then I don't understand why I shouldn't be allowed to talk to her–” 

“Because I'm not going to put you in danger again!” He takes a deep breath, calming himself. 

“What?” 

“The gala was my fault, I should've made sure you were by my side. It was… you were hurt because of me. I’m not going to let you get hurt again. End of discussion.” 

Felix pays the bill. You don’t say anything. You don’t know what you would say, even. On the walk back to the motel, he talks again. 

“I’m sorry about your sister. I really am.” 

“S’fine.” You don’t look at him. “I don’t blame you for the gala, by the way.” 

“You should.” 

“I don’t.” Finally, you smile at him. He gives you a weak smile back. 

It’s past noon once you get back to your room. You slump in your bed, unsure of what else to do. Closing your eyes, you let yourself stretch lazily, basking in the sunlight that shines through your window not unlike that of a cat. After a few minutes, you hear grunting. Cracking open your eyes, you investigate. 

Felix is sitting on the floor near the end of the bed doing sit-ups. You look at him, incredulous. 

“Are you seriously working out right now?” You ask. It does seem a little bit ridiculous, after all. 

“Just because we’re not at a gym doesn’t mean that we can’t train,” he says with uneven breath. “Your enemy isn’t going to wait for you just because you’re in hiding.” He moves fast without breaking a sweat, and it’s a sight to behold. You could watch him do this all day. You realize you’ve been staring and so you clear your throat. 

“Can you help me too? Can we spar?” You ask. You decide that he is right, and there is no time like the present to become stronger. 

And so, for about thirty minutes you muck about the hotel room. Felix shows you how to properly form a fist, cautious of your still-injured hand. He teaches you some self-defense techniques, going into a lecture about the weakest areas of the body to target if in a bad situation. You listen intently and practice with your full-attention, really taking his words to heart. You’re a good student, he says. You feel satisfied by the end of your session now that you’ve finally practiced real techniques and not just focused on strength or cardio, and you’re both sweaty and out of breath before you know it. 

“You can shower first this time,” you say. “I had first dibs last night.” He nods his head and heads to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You try not to think about how good he looked with sweat dripping down his face and wonder if that’s what he would look like when he–

Shaking your head, you flop onto the bed, lazily flipping through the television channels. Nothing really peaks your interest. Until you see something on the table that gleams in the light and makes your heart beat right out of your chest. 

Felix’s phone. 

He left it right there on the table while he was gone. Easily accessible. 

You jump to your feet before you can think, snatching the device and holding it in your hands. You could do it while he’s in the shower; call your sister. If he finds out after the fact, whatever, you think. It’ll be worth it to get the confirmation that she’s safe. 

You slide the phone up. Of course, it’s password protected. You could have guessed that. You double-click the power button two times, allowing yourself to dial an emergency number. Taking a deep breath, you start to dial her number when the shower stops.

Shit. 

Shit. 

Your heart starts beating rapidly, looking to the door. Can you make it out in time? Felix is definitely faster and he would catch you. That would be bad. You need to hide the phone, and quick. Bolting, you lift up the mattress and stick the phone in between the mattress and bedframe. As the door opens, you jump onto the bed, looking at Felix and smiling. 

“Why do you look like a deer caught in headlights?” He laughs. You laugh with him, standing up. 

“No reason, LOL.” You just said LOL out loud. Calm down, Y/N. “I’m going to take a shower now!” You start to walk past him to the bathroom door when you feel a tug at your wrist, flipping you around to face him. Your eyes go wide when you see the serious look on Felix’s face. 

“Tell me where it is.” 

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you chuckle, deciding that maybe playing dumb is the best option. You both know how stupid you’re being right now, though. 

“I’ll give you one chance to stop acting dumb and tell me where it is, Y/N. Seriously,” he says. “I was gone for five minutes. Don’t act like you don’t know where my phone is.” 

“I… I don’t know. Seriously, let me go,” you say. You sound a little less persuasive this time. He’s slowly chipping away at your façade and it’s apparent. 

Gulping, you yank yourself out of his grasp and start walking to the bathroom again. In an instant, he pushes you up against the wall, arms pinned above your head. You let out a small gasp at the action, now completely at his disposal. You think about the self-defense techniques that he just taught you, but you know that you couldn’t bring yourself to poke him in the eyes or knee him in the groin… and you wouldn’t need to, either way. You’re not in any danger. 

“Please,” he says. His voice is soft, head tilted downward, unable to look you in the eye. You gulp. 

You’re at a stalemate. You both know that you won’t give him the phone, your only point of communication with your sister, and you both know that he won’t do anything to hurt you. 

“Felix,” you say, your voice just a whisper. When he releases your hands from above your head, they make their way to his shoulders and stay there. He finally looks up at you, and you feel like you can’t breathe. 

“Please,” he says again. This time you’re unsure what he’s asking for. Not when your body is finding itself impossibly closer to his, not when his eyes are on your lips and your heart is beating out of your chest. 

“We shouldn’t,” you say, because it’s true. 

“We absolutely shouldn’t,” he agrees. You feel his warm breath on yours. His hand cups the back of your head and your lips part. You barely feel the ghost of his lips on yours… 

Then the phone rings. 

You aren’t sure who moves faster. Your heart is beating faster than maybe ever as you duck under his outstretched arm, completely evading his attempt to grab you. You dive for the mattress, successful in getting the phone. 

An outstretched leg trips you, but you don’t fall. You make it to the door, in fact. You even touch the handle. 

It’s over sooner than it started. 

Your arm twists behind your back, the one holding the phone, though you don’t let it go. It’s almost embarrassing how easily he maneuvers you so that your chest is pressed up against the mattress, one hand on your back pushing you down. Neither of you miss the small whimper that comes out of your mouth. Neither of you miss the hardening bulge against your ass. 

When Felix plucks the phone from your hand, you almost expect him to let you go immediately. He doesn’t. He picks up the phone instead and you crane your neck to try to see his face, though you are unsuccessful. 

“Hyunjin,” he greets. 

You wish you could hear the muffled voice on the other end of the phone. You only hear bits and pieces. You try to wriggle from his strong single-handed grasp but you only feel his fingers tighten around your skin, not in an attempt to harm you but in an attempt to warn. You’re sick of doing what you’re told, though, so you grind your hips back against his cock purposefully. 

“Don’t be a brat,” he whispers to you, shoving the receiver of the phone into his chest so Hyunjin won’t hear him on the other end. You do it once more and he lets you–when you both know he could easily still your movements. You don’t miss the shaky breath he lets out at your actions, but suddenly Felix says something in affirmation to Hyunjin and hangs up the phone. 

He finally releases his grasp on your arms and you sit up, making eye contact with him. He still looks completely composed, but a slight blush has dusted over his features. 

You smile at him. 

“Cute,” he says, poking the inside of his cheek with tongue. “You think you’re very cute.” 

You say nothing. 

“We… gotta go. We gotta go back to the house now. Minho has woken up. It’s uh… it’s safe now.” 

You do let out a sigh of relief at that. 

We almost kissed, you want to say. I feel something towards you that I probably shouldn’t, and I know you feel something towards me. 

The two of you stare for a moment, letting the silence punctuate the room. Your heart pounds heavily against your ribcage. 

“Let’s get going, shall we?” you say. 

Neither of you speak on the ride back to the house but the silence is welcomed. You stare dreamily out the window and for some reason, the future doesn’t seem as bleak as it did earlier. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

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@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ; @ellelabelle ;

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@skzskzskzskzskzskzskzzzz ; @k-keya ; @moonlight-sunrise-channie ; @estella-novella

[angie-likes-to-art]

Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition VI)

All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Five Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

Bad For Business (Series, Completed) by @upsidedownwithsteve (18+ Only)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “An enemies to lovers AU. Join the team at the Upside Down Arcade, where the machines eat your quarters and the staff have some personal issues.”

hey. (Series, Completed) by @stevesharrlngtons

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “he was such a staple piece in your life, that as a child and young teen, you never saw your life without him. late night promises and pinky swears were made in blanket forts that you two would be friends until the day the sun burned out in the sky. it was just a given that’d he be there, that you never worried about the two of you drifting apart or being separated. he promised he’d always be there, and you had believed him. you now corrected yourself, foolishly believed him.”

Disappointed Revalations by @ahsokaismyqueen

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Summary: “ After working on a school project together, you had actually started to believe that there was more to Steve Harrington than meets the eye. All of that changes after an interaction with Jonathan Byers.”

Indifferent by @stevesherdaddynowlover (18+ Only)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “you and steve are coworkers and while you try (and fail) to act like he doesn’t exist, he’s a little obsessed with you and would do anything to have your attention ”

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN by @eddiesghxst (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Pornstar!Reader Summary: “eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you”

Noisy Neighbors by @eddiesxangel (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader’s Girlfriend x Reader Summary: “Eddie has no idea what he’s getting into with the two new girls next door.”

Absolutly Smitten by @starryeyedstories

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “ There’s a new crew member at Scoops Ahoy and Steve might have a crush.”

the swindling of steve harrington’s heart by @stevebabey

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “you write for the advice column in the hawkins post, under the pen name gabby. you get a letter asking for advice about a first date and there’s no way it’s the same guy you’ve just landed a first date with, right? steve harrington doesn’t need help with his dates… right?”

That Guy by @appocalipse

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him…”

Eyes Half Shut by @crappymixtape

Pairing: Steve Harrington  x Reader Summary: “hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington?”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 30

Part 1 Part 29

Will feels cold here, huddled into the bleachers, surrounded by his best friends. He can feel something in his chest tugging, urging him to follow Eddie out of the gym and off to find Steve.

He doesn’t.

It’s weird, to feel this jittery being out of sight of two people he barely knows but feels inexplicably connected to. Will hopes they feel the same when they make it back. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if they make him go away.

Jonathan does that, sometimes. When he has to concentrate, or go to a shift at the diner, but with Jonathan, that means he has to be on is own for a few hours. Their tie is concrete – blood and love. With Steve and Eddie? He doesn’t know.

Will lets his gaze wander as his friend’s chat around him. His Mom is sitting on the first bench of the bleachers, everyone else organized in a wonky pyramid behind her. She’s chewing her nails, watching the door that Hopper, Eddie, and Eddie’s Uncle had gone through like they’ll be back any moment.

The school is quiet, his friend’s voices the only sounds, as they echo off the walls of the empty gym. Dustin is in the middle of explaining to El what a school dance is when Will realizes it’s too quiet.

He glances over to the corner, where Jonathan, Nancy, and Barbara were huddled before and sees no one at all.

“Where’s Jonathan?” It comes out of his mouth quiet, barely above a whisper, but Dustin stops mid-word to look around while Mom jumps up from the bleachers to do the same.

“Jonathan?” she calls, eyes getting that same frantic edge that had finally started to dissipate.

“They’re probably just sucking face somewhere,” Dustin says, shrugging like it’s all no big deal.

Mike recoils. “No way!” he says, at the same time that El says, “no,” quietly, eyes downcast. Mike turns to her, brows furrowed. “Did you see them? Do you know where they went?”

El looks up, eyes big and sad in her face. “Yes,” she says, nodding slowly.

“Where?” Mike sounds a bit frantic. “Where did they go?

El answers with a word Will’s starting to hope he never hears again. “Demogorgon.”

Will feels a tremor running over his bones. He’s so cold, like all the warmth has been sucked out of the gym.

“No, no, no!” his Mom says, running a hand up through her hair, irreparably messing up her bangs. “What are they doing?”

“Helping,” El says.

His Mom groans. Will remembers Nancy’s plans shared around the table like they were the only logical next steps and feels his hands begin to tremble where they’re hanging between his knees. Just the thought of Jonathan coming face to face with the Demogorgon armed with nothing but a bear trap and a bat makes a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.

Come on, we’re going to find a phone!” his Mom says, gesturing impatiently for them all to get up and follow her. El shrinks a little into Mike’s side at her erratic gestures, but dutifully gets up with the rest of them and follows her out of the gym.

Dustin helpfully points her toward the administrative office. She drags the phone over the lip of the front desk to get at the keys, punching them in by rote and listening to it ring and ring.

“Pick up, Jonathan,” she hisses furiously. If they all make it out of here, his brother is going to be grounded for eternity.

“What are they doing?” Lucas asks quiet enough not to disturb his Mom’s threatening over the answering machine.

“They were going to lure the Demogorgon with blood,” Will answers, just as quietly.

“Why would he be at your house then?” Dustin asks, in that know-it-all voice that makes bullies try to beat him up between one class and the other. “If they’re trying to help Steve, they’ll be at—”

“Steve’s house,” El says, frowning.

Will wants to shake her until what he wants to know falls loose. But there’s something fragile about her, like if someone raised their hand, she’d wilt like a dandelion in the summer sun.

His Mom turns around, still clutching the base of the phone to her chest. She looks manic, like when she’s worked a double at Melvald’s and drank a whole pot of coffee. “Do any of you know Steve Harrington’s phone number?”

Lucas elbows Mike in the ribs. “He’s your sister’s boyfriend. Isn’t he calling your house all the time?”

“He is not her boyfriend!” Mike replies hotly. “And I don’t know it!”

Privately, Will thinks Mike’s probably right. Steve didn’t mention Nancy once in all the time Will was with him. That doesn’t seem like boyfriend and girlfriend behavior.

His Mom is wilting in front of them. She sets the phone down with a clatter that makes El jump.

“We should go to his house,” Mike says. “We can’t just leave Nancy to do something stupid.”

“She’s fine, she’s with Jonathan,” Dustin says with a careless shrug, as if Jonathan is an action hero, and not some teenager with a baseball bat. Just like Steve. “Besides, she’s kind of a badass now.”

Mike opens his mouth, ready to retort when his Mom cuts over the conversation, voice raised. “No one is going anywhere!” she says. “None of you are leaving my line of sight until I hand you personally to each of your parents.” She doesn’t seem to notice the way El stoops her head and curls her fists. “I am not losing another kid tonight!”

She sits down in a chair in one of the chairs kids sit in to wait for the Principal to be free to doll out punishments, crosses her arms, and glares up at them until they all comply.

Will notices that El sits as far away from his Mom as possible. No one says anything else for a long time.

Part 31

[katyawriteswhump]

Livin’ the dream (steddielovemonth day 3)

After High School, Eddie and Steve’s lives don’t exactly go as planned… For @steddielovemonth day 3 prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap (@unclewaynemunson) Thank you <3

Rating: M. CW: Unhealthy/abusive relationship (NOT steddie!) Tags: No Upside Down AU, angst. WC: 2,225

…

“I’d never have dreamed,” said Eddie one morning, during his daily stop at Dave’s Diner, “that Steve Harrington pouring my coffee would become the highlight of my day.”

Steve smirked. “Wasn’t exactly how I saw my future either, Munson.”

While Steve poured, Eddie left his hand on his coffee cup. He always did—even if the cup got too hot. Even if it scalded him. He’d not miss a chance to have Steve that close. Nor to enjoy staring at those lickable arms, today exposed to the shoulders by a snug-fitting vest top.

“I guess you really dig lousy weak coffee, man,” said Steve.

“Sets me up for a busy day fulfilling my childhood ambition of hauling bricks, darlin’.” He’d gotten away with ‘darlin’’ last week. Steve didn’t chew his head off today, either, so… “Living the dream, huh?”

Steve sighed hard, started wiping the counter near Eddie, over and over, as he always did. “How’s your pay?” asked Steve quietly.

“It’s a day rate. Not stellar, not the pits. Why? You looking for other work?” Panic rocked through Eddie. “You’re not leaving this place?” Though it would be awesome if we worked together. Eddie was already fantasising about those hot summer days on the construction site, when Steve might strip his shirt off.

“Nah, not really,” said Steve, “I’m kinda tied to this job.” He ran his free hand distractedly across his eyes. Tied to this job—what the heck did that mean? Steve often seemed world-weary and withdrawn. Incongruously so, given the confident guy he used to be. But that was adult life, so it seemed. It sucked.

All the same, Eddie experienced an uneasy urge to probe deeper. Steve got in first: “Hey, how’s the band?”

Eddie beamed. Yeah, there was one other thing, other than coffee with Steve, that he lived for: “We got a gig Saturday night.”

“Let me guess—the super bowl came begging?”

“Haha, just you wait, big guy. It’s at that new bar in town. You wanna come?”

Steve paused his scrubbing. Something sparked in the depths of those big, beguiling eyes that made Eddie’s throat tighten, and his pulse beat faster. “I’m working,” said Steve. I’ll try and get away aft—”

“Hey, kid! You gone blind or you really this lazy?” That was Steve’s boss, Dave, who’d gotten the biggest arms Eddie had ever seen. “There’s more than one punter in this place. If you can count that high?”

“Jesus, he can be such an a-hole,” mumbled Steve. He shot off, even as Eddie bleated: 

“See you tomorrow?”

…

Only seven people turn up for Corroded Coffin’s gig. It was a total dud, and Eddie didn’t give a shit. 

Among the seven, was Steve. 

The crappy too-bright venue lighting revealed Steve undressing Eddie with his eyes, as surely as Eddie undressed Steve. Eddie was so blown away, he almost messed up the finger work on his most bodacious solo.

After the final number, Eddie placed down his guitar and made a beeline for Steve: “Hey, you made it.”

“Figured I might as well. Jon Bon Jovi wasn’t returning my calls.” Steve snickered, and Eddie literally drooled. Metal thrummed through his every vein, and his blood rushed madly—most of it heading south. Steve Harrington CAME TO MY GIG AND STAYED FOR THE NON-EXISTENT AFTER-PARTY. Steve’s vest top was sadly missed, but his tight t-shirt still afforded Eddie a glimpse of that tasty chest hair, and the skin-tight jeans were… Gnnng! And as for the touch of eyeliner? 

Slayed Eddie dead.

“You wanna come backstage?” Eddie’s voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched.

“I’d like a drink. Preferably something stronger than coffee, and that I don’t have to pour.”

After his sixth shot, Eddie went in for the kill: “You are literally the hottest fucking thing I have ever goddamn seen.”

“Not exactly slick.” Steve leaned close, and Eddie inhaled his fast, bourbon-spiced breaths. “But I guess it’s a step up on ‘do you come here often.’” 

Eddie silenced him with a blockbuster kiss, which Steve returned instantly. Within moments, Eddie was up off his barstool, hands roving wildly over Steve’s delicious torso. Okay, also wandering around to pry under his tight t-shirt, and to grope that mega-hot denim-clad ass. Steve pawed Eddie with equal enthusiasm, setting his barstool rocking till it toppled back. 

He jumped off, straight into Eddie’s arms. Wow! There was nothing better than kissing somebody roughly your own height. Back at school, he’d figured Steve was a lot taller than him—like most jocks, he’d had that early spurt of growth, Eddie guessed. Then Eddie had more of less caught up, and now..? Yeah, everything had changed, all his preconceptions thrown to the winds. Best of all, Steve had turned out to be a good dude.

Also, the best kisser ever.

They made out like their lives depended on it, tongues sliding together, slickly and keenly. Meanwhile, despite the hotness, all those sweet moments over coffee crammed together in Eddie’s head.

You are the highlight of my life… The light of my goddamn life! How come this took so long?

Then, as abruptly as it started, Steve broke the kiss. He staggered back into his stool, setting it rocking again. “Shit!”

“Oooookay.” Eddie felt like he’d been punched. “Used to that in gig write-ups, but—”

“Oh God, no… It’s not you. It’s so not about you. This was a terrible idea.” He knocked Eddie’s fingers from where they lingered on his hip, and sidestepped, placing the barstool between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about me, Munson, so you can quit the goddamn kicked-puppy-dog eyes.” Erm, back at ya, Harrington. “I’m with another guy, okay?” He laughed, and somehow, it was one of the most miserable sounds Eddie had ever heard. “I didn’t think we’d… Look, I really shouldn’t have come.” 

With that, he bolted.

…

Eddie got to the diner super-early on Monday morning. He’d barely thought of anything other than Steve, who was no longer simply his secret crush. Or even the light of his life. 

Without exactly knowing why, Eddie was pretty much dying with worry for him.

Steve didn’t pour Eddie’s coffee. He dumped the pot on the counter, emoted unwelcomingly with hard-set features, and hurried off to take a table order. Which he then headed out back to prepare.

Eddie waited. He was gonna be late for work, and his boss would give him an earful, and he really couldn’t give a crap.

The diner emptied out, and eventually, Steve emerged from the back, mouthing:

“What the Hell?”

“I needed to see you, Steve.” Steve glared at him, and Eddie did a double take. Steve looked more exhausted than ever, shadows stark as bruises around his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Saturday was a big mistake. Huge. Had an argument with my boyfriend about it, that’s all. Scram, will you?”

Steve’s boss came out from the back. Steve emoted wildly again, shooed Eddie, and the truth dawned. And was slammed home when Dave slapped Steve’s butt—scowling at Eddie, as he did so—then grabbed Steve’s shoulders, spiralled him about, and shoved him off in the direction of another table awaiting service.

“Either you place another order, or get lost,” said Dave to Eddie.

Eddie ordered pancakes and waited.

“Dave? Seriously?” hissed Eddie, when he finally got Steve’s attention again. He begrudgingly admitted Dave was okay looking. All the same: “He’s a dick! And he’s gotta be old enough to be your dad.”

Steve edged close, talking so fast and hushed Eddie strained to follow. “My parents threw me out. I was on the streets! Dave was… good to me, took me in, and now… I’m kinda stuck. He takes my rent out of my wages, and there’s never anything left, and—”

“You need to get away from him, man.” Eddie felt sick. Somehow, he burbled it out: “Leave the son-of-a-bitch. Right now. You can crash with me.”

“You live in your uncle’s trailer! He’d be beyond thrilled, I’m sure, and Dave would…” Steve’s mouth hung open a moment. He’d what? Come after you? “Look, I’m okay. Dave’s all right, really. Gets grouchy sometimes, that’s all.”

Eddie spouts the next question before he can stop himself. “Do you love him?”

Steve tossed his arms up in despair: “What kinda dumbass question is that?” Yeah, Eddie wants to facepalm. In retrospect, it was truly dumb! “Look, he doesn’t know who I saw on Saturday, but he’s already bitching about you hanging around too much. Just fucking go already!”

Eddie didn’t drive on to the construction site. Instead, as his brain screamed, You’re batshit crazy, he pawned all his meagre possessions, even his beloved Warlock. His plan only faltered when Wayne caught wind of him going to a loan shark. His uncle literally dragged him from their office and insisted on lending Eddie all his scant savings.

Eddie refused. Wayne refused harder. They headed to the second-hand dealership and purchased the cheapest RV in the yard.

Next morning, Eddie trundled his rusty 1960s Volkswagen into the forecourt of Dave’s Diner. He gritted his teeth, squared his shoulders, and moseyed through the door like a gunslinger and about to unleash hell. One that was also trembling like jello, packing zero heat, and practically pissing himself.

“Got my own place now,” he said to Steve.

Steve looked mad, refused him even a coffee cup, though Dave didn’t seem to be around. Yet. “This isn’t happening, Eddie.”

“My place has got wheels, darlin’.” Eddie motioned to the RV outside, dropped his voice to an undertone. “It’s a big country. We can go anywhere. I’ll park up half-a-mile along the road. Wait all day. All night, if you need.”

Steve eked tight words from between gritted teeth: “Look, I don’t wanna sound ungrateful. It’s still a ‘no,’ man. You must have gone cuckoo. I mean, what about your band?”

Yeah, that brought a pang to Eddie’s chest: “Honestly? The rest of the guys are losing interest fast. I can fly solo. As long as you’ll fly with me?”

Dave strode out from the back. The flash of fear in Steve’s eyes cut Eddie to the quick, because it also hollered, You’re making things worse!

Oh God, what’ve I done?

“You’re barred,” yelled Dave at Eddie. “I see your long-haired loony mug one more time, you can kiss my fist.”

“Subtle you ain’t, asshat.”  Eddie retreated, literally a mangy, kicked dog. He drove the RV that half-a-mile along the road and waited. And waited. By midnight, he felt like his heart had been wrung dry, and eventually, he fell asleep.

A loud thudding roused him. He sat up, blinked at his unfamiliar surroundings and then… Shiiiit! He dashed to the door.

Steve perched on the step, his wide eyes glowing with something… unfamiliar. Some sparkle that might just be hope. He’d gotten a very small bundle slung over his shoulder.

“I hope you were serious?” asked Steve.

“Deadly serious, darlin’.”

Steve took Eddie’s face in his hands, and kissed him, briefly, almost chastely. Totally mind blowing. “So good to do that without feeling guilty,” he murmured, smoothing kiss-wetted lips together.

Eddie grinned; he wasn’t even quite sure if this was real: “Let’s get the Hell out of Dodge,” he said.

They hit the road, and they never looked back.

…

Three months later

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” cooed Eddie, as the Hawkins pawn shop owner handed his Warlock back across the counter. “I missed you soooo much.”

“Ugh, seriously?” bitched Steve, as soon as they exited the store. He blocked Eddie’s path along the sidewalk, planted his hands on his hips: “Should I be jealous?”

“Nah. We’re a proper family now.” With his guitar safely stowed in its case, he slung an arm around Steve, and they walked on toward where they’d parked the RV. “Tho’ when we get to Wayne’s, I might have a moment with my long-lost beloved. While you two watch the game.”

“No funny business, Sweetcheeks, or I’m absconding with a second-hand Yamaha keyboard.”

Eddie beamed broadly. It felt so weird, being back in Hawkins, and with hope, at least, for a better future. Not even having to worry about… “You know, I kinda want to thank Chief Hopper in person for arresting your douchebag ex.”

“Yeah, well, he put a guy in the hospital.” Steve shuddered. “They’ve charged him with attempted homicide.”

God, I’m so relieved it wasn’t you, thinks Eddie.

Steve rattled out a joyless laugh that Eddie hadn’t heard for some time, and said, “Jesus, I’m so happy it wasn’t you.”

Suddenly, Eddie’s eyes brimmed with tears. It’s too much. He can’t bear to think of what might have been. “Love you so much,” he blurted, fumbling for the keys for the RV. He couldn’t get up the steps and inside with Steve fast enough

“Love you too,” whispered Steve, once the door was closed, and sounding slightly choked, also. Which isn’t like him.

They clasped each other tighter than ever, and did their darndest to kiss the bad memories away.

[kookygranger]

Spirit in the Sky

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au

Word count: 900

Author's note: I don't know what this is or what it will be, but it's inspired by @bettyfrommars' biker!Steve, a lot of The Bikeriders + The Place Beyond the Pines in this first chapter, a little ghostrider!Steve to come, a little of me trying my best to dissociate with the realities of life

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter One

The smell of burnt sugar from the candy floss carts is overpowered by the petrol stinging your nose when you enter the tent. The chatter of the crowd mostly drowned out by the buzz of the motorbikes as they zip around, flicking up dirt. There’s a warm breeze that tickles the hem of your dress, sweat clinging to the back of your thighs.

You’re momentarily stuck in a trance watching them go back and forth when you feel a pinch on your arm. Your friend nudging you and speaking in your ear to draw your attention.

That’s him.

He looks much the same as the others in his white jumpsuit, but you can’t deny there’s a different aura that follows him.

One that’s been picked up by most the girls in town in the short time the carnival tent has been pitched.

And now you can’t seem to draw your attention elsewhere as he parades on one wheel to the cheers of the crowd. Making your breath catch in your chest every time he was in the air, falling back down to the ground. At every moment left up to fate and physics as he swoops in behind his fellow stunt riders in the gaudily named globe of death. And again, when the helmet finally came off, his brunette locks set free and only slightly dampened with sweat – a coy smile and wave to the crowd.

You’d fallen in love with strangers before of course. Passionate fantasies that lasted just as long as their presence in town. Settling with the dust left in their wake, another moment of escapism to keep you going. But unlike the others, he lingered.

Steve ‘hot spur’ Harrington

And when he started coming into the diner every morning for a cup of black coffee and some bacon with a side of toast you didn’t think much of it. Even less so when you noticed that he’d hardly say a word to you but was all smiles and charming lines to the other waitresses. Even if you’d get a tightness in your chest every time you’d hear the engine of his bike as he pulled up – it didn’t matter.

He was just another fantasy soon to be gone.

That was until he sat up, catching your attention as he uncrossed his legs when you’d left the diner one night, realising he must’ve been leaning on his bike for a while. Your eyes following the cigarette he drops next to the two that already lay discarded by his worn boots, before they travel back up to find his already watching you.

“I was uh,” he cleared his throat of the rasp left by smoke, “I was wonderin’ if you wanted to go for a ride?”

“Excuse me?” Of course you thought you hadn’t heard him right. That he’d mistaken you for someone else. The light in the car park barely cast on orange glow on the both of you. But then, again.

“You wanna go for a ride?”

“You don’t know me.” Your eyebrows pinch, head moving in disbelief.

“Sure I do.” Then he flashes you a smile, shyer than the one he’d been giving the prettier waitresses. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I don’t-“

“The one that I’ve been trying all week to pluck up the courage to ask. So?” His leg starts to bounce, his torso leaning forward while he still remains perched on the side of his bike.

You shrug, still not sure where this conversation was coming from. “So?”

“You wanna go for a ride?”

You shake your head, “No.”

“Oh.” Steve finally breaks eye contact, looking down as he kicks at the gravel. “Right, yeah.” His hand runs through his hair.

“I’ve never been on one.”

His head snaps back up.

You gesture to where he’s seated. “First time with a stranger seems like a terrible decision.”

He smiles again, more assured, teeth on display. “You seen me ride?”

You nod.

“Then you know you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

“It’s reckless.”

He laughs, eyes darting as he notices your body move slightly closer. “It’s practice. And it’s confidence. Two things you need to be good. ‘M not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“Why me?”

Steve stands up, bridging the gap between you in a couple of steps. “Already told you.” Your head moves back to accommodate his closeness.

“You think I’m beautiful, right. How many girls you said that to since you got here?”

“You seen me with another girl?”

“No.”

“Then I think you just answered your own question.”

You end up in a slight stare off. The smile on his face might’ve pissed you off if it wasn’t so damn charming.

And when you feel his hand pull your arm tighter across his torso, the cotton of his white T-shirt against your skin grounding you as your heart beats rapidly between you, the wind roaring in your ears, you can’t help the smile that finally creeps up on you. Steve squeezes your arm again when he feels it pressed up against his back.

And that’s how one of your fantasies turned real; how you met the love that would burn you to the ground.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A chance encounter

Words: 1,732 [also on AO3]

Rated: E

Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Record label owner Eddie; Waiter Steve; Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington; Blood and violence; Prostitution (implied); Attempted non-con; Homophobic language; Steve Harrington whump; Eddie Munson whump; Protective Eddie Munson; Protective Steve Harrington

Notes: Happy birthday, @house-of-the-moving-image! I hope you have the most wonderful of days. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend and partner in crime. Hope you enjoy your extra long chunk of Upside Diner, even though it turned out quite gritty for a birthday fic. 😅💕🛼

Eddie grumbles under his breath as he locks the office door and steps out into the dark street. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves his job. Hellfire Records is his baby. Making music, working with all sorts of different artists and bands, helping them make a name for themselves - it’s everything he ever wanted and never thought he could have growing up in the smalltown hell of Hawkins, Indiana. 

What he doesn’t love is the meetings and the paperwork and the phone calls, especially on days like this, when it all drags on until well into the night. 

The echoes of his boots bounce off the empty streets as he makes his way towards the little diner at the corner. Checking his wristwatch, he swears again. Fuck, it’s even later than he thought. What if Steve’s shift is already over? The thought makes his stomach clench with an unpleasant feeling that distinctly feels like disappointment. The realization makes him pause and furrow his brow. 

Maybe it’s a little bit pathetic, how quickly his visits to the diner have become the highlight of his day. Maybe it’s a little bit weird that he hasn’t had dinner anywhere else in literal weeks. Maybe it’s a little bit creepy, this obsession with a boy he knew fleetingly in highschool. An obsession that makes him come by every single day after work, without fail, just to chew on soggy fries and greasy burgers and watch said boy waiting tables, gliding around like an angel in chunky roller skates and stupidly short shorts. 

Maybe he has a problem. 

And maybe he doesn’t care. 

Because for all his initial reluctance and bite, Steve has actually started coming around. Has been accepting Eddie’s money and attempts at conversation with barely a complaint. Has even stopped asking why Eddie keeps ordering way too much food for one person alone, taking the leftovers behind his counter to munch on. Hell, last week when Eddie came in, he even looked up from the order he was taking and flashed him a wave and smile. Eddie rode that high all night and well into the next day. 

It’s the memory of that smile that makes him pick up his steps. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll catch Steve at the tail end of his shift and convince him to stay around for a little longer. 

The diner is empty, except for a lone person in uniform wiping down tables behind the neon-lit window pane. It isn’t Steve. Eddie spares one glance at the bored-looking girl and turns away with an annoyed groan. That’s it, he thinks, pulling his headphones from his pocket and slamming them on with a little more force than strictly necessary. Tonight officially sucks. Time to go home and fix himself some SpaghettiOs, turn on a late night show and fall asleep in front of the- 

For the rest of his life, he’ll thank fate for making him fumble with his discman. Because if he’d hit the play button a second earlier, he would never have heard the voices. But this way, he does, and this way, he halts his steps, peering into the narrow side alley with a wrinkled brow. The light of the streetlamps only reaches so far, and everything he can see are the dumpsters and old cardboard boxes at its entrance. Beyond them, everything is dark. 

“Dude, get your hands off me, I said no.” 

Steve.

Eddie is halfway around the dumpsters before he even knows it, heart beating in his ribcage like a jackhammer. The alley reeks of piss and rotting garbage. At its far end, almost hidden behind another dumpster, are two figures. Eddie can’t make out their faces, but he also doesn’t need to. The colorful uniform is unmistakable, even in the murky half-light, even though it’s paired with a pair of sneakers rather than roller skates. And besides, he’d know that ridiculously floofy hairdo anywhere. 

He doesn’t know the other man. Only knows that the guy's hands are grabbing Steve’s arms and shoulders hard enough to leave marks as he attempts to wrestle him to his knees. 

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” the man hisses just as Eddie rounds the dumpster. “I’ll make it quick.” 

“Are you deaf or stupid?” Steve sneers, trying to struggle out of his hold. “I said get your fucking hands off me.” 

The man slaps him across the face. Steve makes a pained noise and loses his balance, going down on his knees on the dirty ground. 

The man laughs, curt and mean.

“There you go,” he coos. One of his hands grabs a fist full of chestnut hair while the other reaches for the half-undone fly of his pants. “Now be a good little slut and-” 

The force of the impact sends the discman tumbling from Eddie’s pocket. It shatters on the ground somewhere, parts flying in all directions, but he doesn’t have eyes for it. Instead, he grabs the asshole by the lapels of his cheap suit and hauls him against the nearest wall. The back of the asshole’s head hits the bricks, and Eddie thinks he hears something crack. Good. 

“Eddie?” 

While the man sags against the wall, groaning and cradling his head, Eddie whirls on Steve. Steve, who's just swaying to his feet, eyes wide and shocked. His cheek is flushed and starting to bruise. 

“Shit,” Eddie swears. “Are you-” 

Pain explodes inside his skull, sudden and all consuming. He stumbles, trying to keep his footing and cracks his head on the hard metal edge of the dumpster in the process. He manages to blink the stars from his vision just in time to see the man's fist flying at him. The blow makes his ears ring and copper flood his mouth, and when he regains his senses, he's on the ground with two hands closing around his throat. 

“Thought you'd play the hero, huh?” The man's grin is a manic grimace. A glob of spit hits Eddie’s cheek. “Well, how'd that work out for you, you stupid little-” 

“Hey, shitface!” 

The man snarls and turns. Eddie doesn’t see what happens, just knows that something goes crunch and suddenly the hands pressing down on his windpipe are gone. The man's voice turns into a high-pitched wail of pain. 

Eddie rolls around, coughing and gasping for air, and props himself up on his elbows. The man has shrunk against the next wall, clutching at his face. Crimson blood is bubbling out from between his fingers, hitting the alley floor in a steady pattern of drips. 

“Fuck off,” Steve says and lowers the hand holding the roller skate. His voice is deadly calm, his face steely. “Remember to put away your dick first.” 

The guy stares at him. Steve raises the roller skate again, just a little. The asshole whimpers and scrambles upright, mumbling something to himself. Eddie thinks he catches something about fucking lunatic fags, but he can't be sure, what with the way his voice comes out all wet and garbled. And then he's gone, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.

Steve drops the roller skate. 

“Fuck,” be whispers, crouching down next to Eddie and brushing hesitant fingers over his split lip. Ten minutes ago, Eddie would’ve given anything to feel those hands on his face, but now he winces and recoils at the sting of pain. 

Steve retracts his hand, flopping down on the ground with a heavy sigh. The shorts ride up with the movement, exposing strong, muscled thighs. His knees are scraped from hitting the asphalt, little droplets of blood beading on the torn skin. 

“What’d you go and do that for?” Steve asks, scrubbing a hand down his face. All of the steel is gone from his voice. He sounds tired instead, infinitely tired. “I had it under control.” 

Eddie can’t help it, he barks a laugh. “Oh, did you, big boy? When was that, exactly? When he backhanded you? Or when he had you by the hair and was about to shove his cock down your-”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who got punched and choked half to death!” Steve snaps. 

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, then shuts it again. The boy has a point, sort of. He doesn’t need a mirror to tell which one of them is looking the worse for wear right now, not with the white-hot pain still throbbing through his face with every heartbeat. 

“He didn’t choke me half to death,” he mutters lamely. Steve huffs a humorless laugh. 

“Thanks, anyway,” he then says. It comes out so quietly that Eddie nearly misses it, and when he looks up, Steve has averted his eyes. Eddie has an acute flashback to their first meeting at the diner, when Steve reluctantly accepted his tip money. “Could’ve gone a lot worse if you hadn’t shown up.” 

Eddie feels his mouth tug into a grin, even though his lip stings like an entire beehive. 

“Anytime, Stevie. Now c’mon, let’s get outtaaaaah, shit.” 

Trying to stand is a bad idea. The moment he’s upright, another firework of pain goes off behind his temples and the ground tilts out from under him. The only thing that saves him from going right down again is Steve jumping to his feet and looping one of Eddie’s arms around his shoulders. 

“Shit, he got you good,” he mutters. Eddie can only hum in agreement, too preoccupied with keeping the meager contents of his stomach down. “We should probably get you somewhere with a first aid kit at least.” 

“‘s okay,” Eddie slurs, inadvertently leaning closer into Steve’s warmth. He smells of shampoo and frying fat and blood. “I’ll be fine, I live nearby.” 

Steve’s eyes flit over his face, then off to the side, then back to his face again. He licks his lips and even in his dazed state, Eddie can clearly see how he wars with himself. Finally, he gulps and straightens his spine. 

“Okay,” he says, adjusting Eddie’s weight on his shoulders. “Let’s go then.” 

It’s weird, Eddie thinks as they start to hobble their way down the dark street. He must’ve fantasized a thousand times about taking Steve Harrington home, but never once did he think it’d play out like this. Then again, things in his life rarely go as he imagines, so he supposes he’s just gonna roll with it.

Part 4 Tag list: @grtwdsmwhr @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon

@steddhie @formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos

[ahhhwomen]

Not A Toy?

Trigger Happy AU

Part 3

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Ik ik, everything has been written in very excruciating detail so far, this one being no exception, but I promise I'm going to up the speed and intensity very soon. Also, I am sorry if this one is a bit rushed, I just wanted to get it out there. Def not my favorite chapter...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language; all mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI 18+

Warnings Part 3: Mommy kink, stalker Wanda, kidnapping (?), slightly stupid reader

Summary: Maybe you are more to Wanda than just a Toy.

Word Count: 1157

Your apartment had never been the best. When you moved in, months prior, that much became apparent. It was filthy, small, and there were large gaps between some of the floorboards. However, money was tight after you were cut off from your family, and the neighborhood wasn’t the worst. So, you took what you could.

You had lived there for all of 2 weeks before you got a roommate. In those 2 weeks, you tried to make it more pleasant and feel more like home. You got a carpet to hide the large gaps, you moved the furniture to make it feel like more space, and you deep cleaned.

As you came to learn, Jessica didn’t care much for that sort of stuff. Between college, working a part-time job, having a boyfriend, and loving parties, Jessica was barely even there. She had never bothered to do much around the apartment, she never cleaned, and never took any interest in changing things around.

It's therefore safe to say you are a bit confused as you take in the scene in front of you.

Why is your coach upside down?

You have no clue how you didn’t see it until now. It wasn’t like you, you had always praised yourself on your observation skills.

That damn policewoman was doing a number on you.

You are just about to pull your phone out when you hear a creak, another issue with the floorboards. The sound came from Jessica's room.

Your apartment has felt off ever since you came home, but now it feels like you are somewhere else entirely. Suddenly everything was colder, and your skin prickles with chills.

Your feet slowly inch closer to Jessica's door, trying to stay silent, and your hands push gently on the handle. Sweat runs down your back and you hold your breath, the tension is heavy in the air. With the handle down, you being to put a slight weight into the door. The door creaks open to reveal….

Nothing.

Your eyes scan the room, everything the same as when you left this morning. You let out a shaky breath, relieved, you close the door again.  

You remind yourself to send a quick text to your roommate about the furniture rearrangement before you walk back to the bathroom.

///////

Wanda bites back a groan as the door presses lightly against her. She can hear your hands shaking against the handle.

She had meant to get out before you came home, but you turn out to be a fast walker.

After her work was done for the day Wanda had spent a substantial amount of time tracking this roommate of yours. She was a busy girl. She worked at a local diner most of the week but had Mondays and Wednesdays off. She hung out with her boyfriend, that lived 2 blocks away, almost every day. She took a liking to people, always having to be around someone. She seemed to be your complete opposite.

By what intel Wanda gathered, you were a quiet girl, who liked to keep to yourself. You were sweet and always willing to help, but large groups of people made you uncomfortable.

You were perfect. Well-mannered, sweet, lonely. A good girl.

Hers.

Wanda is good at hiding her less savory side. Obsessive behavior never looked good on paper. She had only ever allowed herself to indulge in smaller doses. However, Wanda couldn’t just fuck this urge out with a random pretty girl she picked up like she was used to.

No.

Wanda needed you.

She needs to have you, nurse you, fuck you. She needs to hold you, have you wrapped around her like the little kitten you are. Hers, and only hers.

She just needed to push you a little.

So, she did what anyone would do, and began staging her crime scene.

Your apartment wasn’t exactly big, so how would a big fight play out in such a small space? Wanda was testing your living room when she heard your keys jingle in the hallway.

“I’m home!”

Wanda smiled a little.

You must have been so sleepy. There was a little crack in the door Wanda could look at you through, and you walked right passed the flipped coach and started getting your dinner ready. Wanda had to hold back a disapproving sigh as you picked up a microwavable dinner.

You were a growing girl who requires proper sustenance. Not, whatever was in those plastic tubs.

As the timer on the microwave counted down, you looked lost in thought. Wanda wondered what you were thinking about as your teeth sank into your lip, your scrunched-up nose indicating you were worried. Wanda's hands griped the door, if something was bothering her girl, it bothered Wanda.

Luckily you snapped out of it rather fast and got to eating.

You occur to be quite the messy eater. It was adorable the way you would huff in annoyance as the table became smothered in your mess.

Wanda made a mental note to always feed you on a mat. She didn’t want her floors to be stained like your table was.

You stood up.

Wanda couldn’t get a proper view of the bathroom from where she stood. She had intended on moving just a little bit to the left when her foot hit a loose tile.

Shit!

Wanda could hear you try to sneak over to the door, and she saw the handle slowly move downwards. If she made even the tiniest of noises Wanda knew the gig would be over. She pressed herself into the wall and held her breath.

You paused for a second when the door was almost all the way open. Wanda could hear you sigh. Then close the door again.

You make your way back to the bathroom.

Wanda stands there baffled for a second before sneaking out when she picks up the water running.

Who doesn’t open the door all the way when they think an intruder is in the house?

You just have to be happy it was only Wanda.

///////

“SOMEONE PLEASE!” The filth sobs as her voice echoes back to her.

Wanda smirks.

Don’t worry, it will all be over very soon.

[starksbabie]

The Ink That Binds Us - Chapter 1

Next

Summary: Omega reader moves to Stark County, ND after her grandmother dies and she inherits her house. She gets a job at a local diner where she meets charismatic asshole alpha, Deputy Gator Tillman. Will his rough around-the-edge ways push her away before she even knows that he’s her perfect match?

Tags/Warnings: Soulmates AU, A/B/O, eventual smut, 18+ mdni, mentioned unwanted touching, soulmates have matching tattoos, Gator Tillman (he’s his own warning).

Word Count: 2.4k

“We were just two broken souls trying to fix one another… Somehow I ended up with a piece of you and you, me.” — Evy Michaels

- 10 years earlier -

You wake up and stretch, your nest is cozy and warm around you. The blankets, pillows, and stolen clothes from the people important in your life are arranged just so. Slowly, you sit up and climb out, headed to the bathroom before you head to school. On your way past the vanity you freeze in your tracks. There on your right bicep is a large tattoo. 

When a soulmate permanently marks their skin, their other half also receives an identical mark. You gasp and cover your mouth, tears forming as you inspect closer. It’s the letters LOL in dark colors, and the O is clearly made up of barbed wire. 

Why would your match do this to you? Why would your alpha mark up your pretty skin with such a crude tattoo? You don’t know who your alpha is, but you're upset, and this has left a sour taste in the back of your throat. 

- Present Day -

Gator walks into the diner pulling the door open with gusto, knowing he’s late to meet Roy. It seems he’s always late lately. He slides himself into the booth across from his father and sags into the cracked and creaking leather. 

“What kept ya?” Roy asks, not even bothering to look up at his son from his paper as he takes a sip from his coffee. 

“Was dealing with that… uh, assignment you gave me.” He smiles at his father as the waitress sets down a mug, and begins to fill it up for him. 

“Would you like anything else?” You look at the deputy, your hip cocked as you wait for his response, setting the carafe on the edge of the table. 

“You’re new.” Gator looks the new waitress up and down, he knows all the staff in the diner. He eats here more than he eats at home. 

You nod and pull out your notepad. 

“Mhmm just moved here recently.” You pull out a pink pen, tapping the end of it against your plush lower lip. 

He tries to scent you and finds himself a little disappointed when he can’t pick up any trace of you. Damn scent blockers, he’ll never understand why you omegas use them. 

Meanwhile, you’re taken aback by this man’s strong scent. It’s almost as if he’s intentionally giving it off, trying to fill the air around you. Notes of palo santo and sage wrap you in warmth, and nostalgia while still being refreshing, exciting, and new. Your heart begins to race, and you’re nervous that these two alphas sitting in front of you are able to hear it beating out of your chest. You almost miss his order as he asks for what he wants. 

“Western omelet. Bacon and white toast.” He sits back and looks at his father as you make your notes and lift the carafe heading back to the kitchen. He can’t help himself watching the way your hips move as you walk away. 

Roy reaches over and slaps his son upside the head, “If your eye causes you to sin son, pluck it out.” 

Gator immediately drops his gaze and keeps it on the table when you deliver his and Roy’s food. 

He mumbles a soft, “Thank you, miss.” 

Having noted the lack of a mating mark on your neck when you originally took his order. 

You come and refill coffee and check on them, before setting the check on the table. At the bottom you’ve written Thank You in your loopy handwriting, followed by a smiley face. 

You bid them both good day before walking away. The smell of palo santo and sage lingering around you for the rest of the day. 

 The next day you’re leaning against the cool bricks outside the diner, trying to take some deep breaths and slow your heart rate, when some black steel toe boots enter your line of sight. You slowly look up the khaki-clad legs, your breath catching when you see a gun seated in a holster wrapped snugly around their thigh. That’s when the scent hits you. Palo santo and sage, your eyes snap up to meet the honey-colored ones of the alpha you served yesterday morning. 

“You hiding out here?” 

His eyes aren’t the only thing that’s like honey, the timbre of his voice pours over you like a warm drink on a cold winter’s morning, soothing your heckles that were raised from the alphas inside.

“I’m not hiding from anything.” You snap, your voice harsh. 

Gator’s not used to being spoken to like that, certainly not by an omega. He draws himself to his full height and steps closer. 

“Then what’s got you so riled up, little one?” 

He gently tugs on the hem of your sleeve, and his eye catches on the ink hidden there. 

“What’s that?” He asks, as he goes to lift your sleeve but you slap your hand over your bicep stopping him. 

“Don’t touch me! You alphas are all the same. You don’t know how to keep your hands to yourself.” 

That stops him dead in his tracks. His voice gets low and serious. 

“Who touched you?” 

You fix your sleeve, making sure the embarrassing tattoo is completely covered, “it’s not important.” 

“It is to me, I’m the law. It’s my job to protect.” 

You notice he doesn’t finish that statement but don’t say anything, your eyes dropping back to the ground. 

“Who touched you?” His voice drops even lower, this time into his alpha register, the one that makes it hard for you to resist, your omega hindbrain begging to submit to him. 

When you’re still silent, he’s slightly impressed. Most omegas he knows submit as soon as they hear that tone. 

“Don’t make me ask again.” 

“The alphas sitting in the corner booth… one grabbed my ass as I walked by. Told me I should be raising pups, not working.” The words rush out of you even as you try to hold them back, sometimes you hate your designation. 

A growl rumbles low in Gator’s chest as he stalks into the diner. He spots them almost immediately, two alphas and a beta sitting in the back corner booth by the entrance to the kitchen. You follow after him, nervous about what this hot-headed alpha is going to do. 

He slams his hand down on the table, effectively shutting them up. 

“If I ever hear about one of you touching another omega without their permission again. We’re going to have problems. Do you understand me?” He glared, at the three men. 

“Yeah? I don’t see your mark on her pretty little matting gland. So why don’t you mind your own business?” The biggest of the alphas says, straightening up. 

Gator opens his jacket to reveal his badge and rests his free hand on his holster, the alphas pale as they realize who they’re talking to. 

“I said, do you understand me?” He repeats. 

They nod and throw some cash on the table, pushing past him to leave, not even casting you a glance as they make their hasty retreat. 

You look at him, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

He straightens up and turns to look at you, “How about a little gratitude? If anyone else bothers you, you come straight to me.” 

You look at him, and after a long pause you nod, even though it wasn’t a question. 

“Good.” 

He grabs a seat at the counter and looks up at the specials board.  

“Can I get a Coke and a burger? Fries too…” He trails off, realizing he never got your name. 

“Y/N.” You supply, smiling a little as you write his order on the ticket. 

“Y/N. That’s pretty. I’m Gator.” He sits back as you ring in his order and slide his drink across the counter. 

“Gator… like the animal?” You ask, looking at him as if he’s playing a joke on you, and at any minute, he’s going to bust out laughing because you believed him. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He smiles and pulls a business card from his pocket handing it to you. 

You hold it in your hands and inspect it. Sure enough, there in the center, it says ‘Gator Tillman’ Deputy Sheriff. 

You smile and nod, sliding the card into your apron pocket.

“Well, alrighty, Deputy.” 

After lunch, Gator spends most of his afternoon sitting at the counter talking to you between customers. 

You find yourself rolling your eyes as he makes terrible jokes, mostly at the expense of the other patrons. 

As your shift ends, you clock out and wash your hands, drying them as he watches you. 

“How are you getting home?” Gator asks as he stands, following you outside. 

You kick your feet in the dirt a bit. 

“It’s not that far from here. I just walk.”  

“Let me give you a lift. C’mon.” He turns and heads to his truck without waiting for your answer. 

You freeze, watching as he jumps up into the cab of his truck. 

“C’mon, it’s too late for you to be walking home. Get in.” He doesn’t leave you any room for argument. 

You hesitate a moment longer before walking around and climbing into the passenger seat of his truck. His scent is so much more intense in this confined space. You find yourself a bit dizzy as you buckle yourself in, and hesitantly begin to give him directions to your house. 

Gator considers himself a pretty good officer. After a moment, he glances over and watches your face as you guide him through the turns towards your home. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks, relaxing back into the seat, and sucking on his vape, being careful to blow the sweet-smelling smoke away from you. 

“It’s just,” you anxiously rub at your matting gland, “I’m an unmarked omega taking an alpha to my house…” You trail off, your skin heating in embarrassment. 

He smirks and takes the last turn onto your street. 

“Yea? Well, I mean… you don’t have to be unmarked for long.” He drapes his arm over the back of your seat, and suddenly it feels as if the temperature in the car shot up 20 degrees. 

You let out a small squeaky noise at which Gator laughs. 

“Relax, I’m just kidding. I’m just dropping you off at home. No funny business, I mean… unless…” he looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your thighs. 

You let out an indignant sound, “Gator!” 

He laughs and turns into the driveway of the little 1950s ranch you call home. 

You grab your bag and climb out of the truck, breathing in the fresh air clearing your head. He leans across the center console of his truck watching as you walk up the steps to your door. 

He rolls down the window and hollers after you.

“See you soon!” 

He says it with such sincerity that you shake your head and roll your eyes fondly, looking back at him. 

“Goodbye, Gator!” You wave before slipping into the house, locking the door behind you.

You peek out the front window and watch as he takes his time backing down the driveway and pulling away. 

That evening, after taking a shower and changing into pajamas, you flit around your kitchen making yourself something to eat while you relax in front of the TV. 

You turn on the sink to fill your glass when you hear a sound coming from the cabinet below. You frown and open the oak-colored door, gasping when you see water spraying from one of the pipes. 

You quickly turn off the sink, but unfortunately, that doesn’t stop the water from spreading across the bottom of the cabinet and out onto the floor. 

“Shit!” You try to block the flow of water with your hands, but it’s no use. 

You panic, not sure what to do, but you know you need help. Then in a moment of clarity, you remember Gator’s card in your apron pocket. You grab your apron off the hook by the door digging in the pocket before snatching your phone off the counter. You call him in a bit of a daze, watching as the puddle on your floor grows. 

“Pick up, pick up!” You mumble under your breath. 

“Hello?” 

His voice is deeper, gruff over the phone. You feel guilty for inconveniencing him, but you really didn’t have anyone else to call. 

“Gator..?” 

“Y/N? What is it? You okay?” You hear some shuffling, on his end of the line. 

“Um… no? My sink is leaking everywhere, and I don’t know what to do. I… I didn’t have anyone else I could call. I’m sorry.” 

He runs his fingers through his hair, a little surprised at your admission. 

“I’ll be right there. Okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you.” You relax a little, knowing that help is coming. 

You hang up and run to the linen closet grabbing out towels, in the meantime. Your ears perk up when you hear a car pulling up outside only a few minutes later. You run to the door and pull it open. Smiling wide when you see Gator’s truck in your drive. 

He puts his truck in park and gets out, grabbing a toolkit from the truck bed before heading to your front door. He looks good in dark wash jeans and a white shirt, his hair soft no longer styled from the day. 

“Thank you again for coming, I don’t know what else I would have done.” 

He hops up your steps and steps into your home and the first thing he notices is your scent. It permeates every inch of your space, fresh greens, mimosa buds, and beechwood wash over him, fruity and floral. 

The second thing he notices stops him dead in his tracks. Your pajamas consist of shorts that show off your legs, something he’s sure to appreciate later, and a tank top. There on your arm, the mark that he’d noticed earlier, is his tattoo plain as day. Etched onto your skin. 

You are his soulmate.

Next

[catgirlscout]

I am working on a 50s Diner/Greaser AU one shot fanfic with Medic / Scout / Engineer. (I don't know if they have a official shipping name but I shall call it Defibrillator, I won't explain why) I drew these a while ago for Appeypie's DTIYS and based the visual inspiration on it. Greaser Medic has my heart. There's gonna be NSFW so be warned. Here is an excerpt from what I wrote. I will post the full fanfic on Ao3 when it's finished. The title will be: Milkshakes n' Motorbikes (Alternate title: Fries n' Fucks) Blurb: Usually all Henry cares about is his hair, his grooves and pretty ladies, but when he falls head over heels for a handsome waiter at his regular diner, his world turns upside down. It doesn’t take long before he tries to hook-up with him. If only his roommate wasn’t such a fucking moodkill. Guess, he has to make up for it somehow.

Medic - Henry

Scout - Jamie

Engineer - Jon

All in all, working as a carhop at a drive-thru diner definitely had it’s perks. On a Saturday like this, Jamie made good money simply by having a pretty face. It was fun, gliding around on his roller skates with a tray in each hand, and being able to show off. Sometimes people handed him five dollar bills to do a spin or a flip. Many girls left him large tips to flirt with him, while men usually whistled at his rather skimpy uniform and honked their horns as they passed him. He knew it was meant as a joke most of the time, but admittedly he liked the attention.

There was one particular guy, a regular, who stopped by almost daily. Jamie knew his order by heart. Large fries, an American burger and a chocolate shake with a cherry on top. His name was Henry and he was your typical leatherjacket wearing, cigarette smoking greaser. A total bad boy. Normally, Jamie tried to stay away from guys like that but he seemed genuinely interested. Whenever he came to his window, he slipped a note into his pocket. Little messages scribbled on napkins, asking for his phone number and if he wanted to go on a date. It was cute and romantic and undeniably gave him butterflies. That’s why he had agreed to meet up with him several times over the past few weeks or so. Of course, it didn’t take long before they started going out. During his break they made-out behind the dumpsters, before Jamie had to get back to work. It always left him hungry for more. Just thinking about how he would shove his hands under his apron and pull his pants down, made him blush. Today, Henry would pick him up with his car - a baby blue Volkswagen with red padding and a convertible sunroof. He seriously couldn’t wait for his shift to end. Henry had invited him over to his house to watch a movie. They would cuddle up under a big blanket and kiss and afterwards, who knows. Perhaps it was time for the next step.

Fifteen minutes later, he heard a roaring engine on the parking lot in front of the diner. That was his sign to come out. He grabbed his things and pulled up to the car window with a cheeky smile.

“Welcome to Fried Batter. Can I take your order?”, he said in his best waiter-voice.

Henry played along. “I would like your hottest chick, please.”, he winked.

“Coming right up.”

With a click the door opened and Jamie climbed onto his seat, giggling. As soon as he was buckled in, Henry revved the engine once more and cut the corner with spinning tires. On the way home he rolled down the windows and blasted loud rock music through the radio. They sang along and laughed and when they finally backed into the small open space of a workshop Jamie could barely contain his excitement. Henry stopped to look at him and put a hand on his inner thigh, brushing against his soft, exposed skin with the tips of his fingers.

“Here we are.”

[suddenlybambi]

as long as you stay here [7] ♥ kyle broflovski

pairing : kyle broflovski x reader

college AU - 18+

tags : strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, afab reader, she/her pronouns, eventual smut

words : 2.5k

chapter 7

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a/n - ngl besties i'm excited for the next chapter 😈 maybe posting that tomorrow if you're lucky

also, all of the comments i get regarding this story is so motivating and sweet thank you so so so much i appreciate them and kick my lil feet at my desk like an excited toddler being given candy in their highchair thank you 🥰

Y/N hummed a little song as she sat on the kitchen counter with Kyle standing awkwardly between her legs as she tended to his hand the next morning. She had spent five minutes trying to decide which cream would be best to help heal him. They had about 7 different ones because of how accident-prone she apparently was. She always liked to be prepared.

“What song is that?” Kyle asked, trying to distract himself from how close she was. He had barely gotten any sleep that night. At first, it was due to how loud Clyde and Bebe had been, but once they had finally drifted off to sleep after an hour, he found himself unable to relax because Y/N was curled around him. He was so worried about moving and waking her up that he laid there as stiff as a board for hours, staring at the ceiling.

He found out she talked in her sleep a little. None of it made any sense; she mumbled something about a dancing snail and then something about a chair that was stuck upside down. He wanted to ask her about it when she woke up but didn’t want to seem like a complete creep who listened to her sleeping all night. She also lightly snored most of the night; it was the cutest thing he had ever heard.

“Not sure,” Y/N pondered for a second, racking her brain to figure out what song had lodged itself in it that morning. She hummed a little more of it. “I think I heard it in an ad for life insurance?”

“Right! The one with the talking cat,” Kyle nodded in recollection. “The way they made its mouth move always creeped me out.”

“I swear it had human teeth….” Y/N shivered lightly in discomfort at the memory.

“How is my hand looking?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Honestly, not too bad!” She smiled, carefully wrapping a fresh bandage around it. It was pink and had little hearts on it, he knew he’d get the shit ripped out of him if any of the guys saw it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say no when she suggested it. “We can probably take the bandage off tonight to let air get to it, but we’ll keep it on for today.” 

“It already feels a lot better than it did last night,” He admitted, looking down at her delicate movements. He spoke again without thinking. “Must have been because you kissed it better.” His eyes widened as he realised what words came out of his mouth, cheeks instantly flushing red. Regret and embarrassment hit him like a truck, but she just gave him her usual sweet smile that caused his heart to skip a beat in response.

“In that case…” Y/N brought Kyle’s hand up to her mouth. “I guess I’ll have to do it again!” She pressed another little kiss on his palm, just like she had the night before. This one had a slightly different energy to it. The one at the diner had been a fast little peck that was clearly supposed to be a joke that she hadn’t thought much about before doing, but this one was very gentle and deliberate. It was full of care.

“What did I just walk into?” Bebe yawned as she rounded the corner and spotted the two. “I thought I heard more than one person giggling last night.”

“Surprised you could hear anything over last night's schoolgirl roleplay,” Y/N retorted, shuffling her leg around Kyle so she could hop off of the counter. He held his non-bandaged hand out to help her down, which she happily took. “Now, was it yours or Clyde’s idea for him to be the schoolgirl?”

“Just because your sex life is boring-” Bebe looked Kyle up and down as she spoke. He felt like she was analysing every inch of his appearance, which she probably was. “Or is it?”

“My sex life is non-existent,” Y/N mumbled in response.

“Uh-huh, so Kyle is just in our apartment wearing your clothes for completely non-sexual reasons?”

“His hand is hurt!” Y/N took Kyle by the wrist to show the proof of his injury as he stood there, watching the interaction happen without being able to move. He didn’t know how to respond to Bebe, but Y/N seemed to have it covered. “He can’t drive until it has healed, so he stayed here. So, yes, he is in our apartment wearing my clothes for completely non-sexual reasons.”

“Whatever you say!” Bebe shrugged. Playful smiles toying at hers and Y/N’s lips told Kyle that they were teasing one another in good fun. “Don’t let me get in the way of your doctor/patient roleplay.” Y/N looked like she was about to argue back, but she was interrupted.

“What’s happening?” Clyde emerged from the bedroom, Y/N and Kyle instantly shielding their eyes. Bebe laughed, grabbing one of her magazines from the counter and settling down at the tiny kitchen table, kicking her legs up as she watched what was about to go down.

“Clyde! Clothes!” Y/N shouted, turning to bury her head against Kyle’s arm for added cover. “Every goddamn morning! What is wrong with you?”

“It’s like the locker rooms after PE all over again,” Kyle groaned, recalling how Clyde used to just walk around the locker room completely bare without a care in the world. His confidence would have been something to be envied if it wasn’t so discomforting to witness. 

“Y/N, did you get our professor’s email this morning?” Clyde asked, shuffling around to put the boxers that he had been carrying on. He had remembered to pick them up before leaving his room but not put them on. Small steps; he might remember that step next time. Maybe… Probably not.

“I’ve not checked yet; why?” Y/N asked, peeking out from behind Kyle’s arm to see if the coast was clear and Clyde was no longer exposed. She let out a small sigh of relief and pulled away when she deemed it was safe. 

“He ate something dodgy and has food poisoning,” Clyde explained, wrapping his arms around Bebe as she sat down, resting his head on top of hers and glancing at the magazine she was absentmindedly flicking through. Kyle couldn’t help but envy how confidently he could be affectionate in front of others. “So he’s just sent us a bunch of material and cancelled today’s lecture.”

“Wanna go through the material together?” Y/N suggested to Clyde. Kyle frowned a little at this. He convinced himself that it was because he didn’t really want to study with Clyde, but he knew it was just because he didn’t want to share Y/N’s attention with anyone else, even if it was just the roommate she complained about constantly. 

It took a second for him to remember that they didn’t even have plans to study together that day. She would usually be in class. He had just assumed that, now that she didn’t have class, they would spend their free time together. It was strange, Kyle usually valued his time alone above anything, but he had quickly come to prefer to spend his alone time with Y/N.

“Well, Bebe has Fridays off, so…” Clyde leaned over and pressed a kiss to his girlfriend’s lips, a suggestive smirk appearing as he pulled away. “I think we’ll do a little ‘studying’ together.”

“Gross!” Y/N groaned, looking away as Clyde pulled Bebe into a deeper kiss with what was definitely considered to be too much tongue. “Not in the kitchen!” At that, Clyde scooped Bebe up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom, not bothering to properly close the door properly behind them. Y/N chased after to pull the door closed in a poor attempt to at least somewhat muffle the sound.

“They’re like rabbits in heat,” She shook her head, packing the first-aid kit up as fast as possible so they could get out of there. She pocketed a couple of items that she had used, Kyle assumed it was to treat his hand again later, and it made him smile to know she was thinking of him and planning ahead.

“I have a free period this morning,” Kyle helped pack up and followed behind Y/N as she retreated to her room. “Should we go to the library so we don’t have to stay here?” He hoped she didn’t pick up on the fact that he had assumed that, no matter what they were doing and where they were going, they would be doing it together.

Y/N gave him a thankful smile at the suggestion. “As long as we can pick up some cupcakes from that bakery along the way?”

Their usual table was taken, so Y/N and Kyle ended up settling down on one of the couches in the corner, as it was one of the only other spaces where the library allowed patrons to bring food and drink. 

They had been there for an hour. Y/N’s legs, at some point, had swung over Kyle’s lap in an attempt to get comfortable, and Kyle had his textbook rested atop them. Noticing her yawning, he suggested that they take a 10-minute break from studying. Over their multiple study sessions, they had picked up on one another’s subconscious queues that signalled that they were getting worn out from studying and would suggest 10-minute breaks whenever they spotted one. Kyle found that it worked out better for him, and he got a lot more studying done as he actually absorbed the information instead of reading the same line 10 times and still forgetting it because he was overwhelmed with everything else and hadn’t taken a break.

“Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving break?” Kyle asked, closing his book for the time being to signify he was listening to her. “Going home to see your family?”

“Well, my dad is dead, my brother is galavanting around Europe with his fiance, and my mom won’t talk to me anymore because I destroyed the future she had planned for me, so…” Y/N sighed, fiddling with her pen. “Nah, no plans to go home and see family.”

“I’m so sorry,” He seemed deflated as he realised that he might have unintentionally upset her with what he thought was an innocent question. “I had no idea.”

“It’s fine; you had no way of knowing. I hadn’t told anyone,” She smiled in an attempt to cheer him up and show that she wasn’t that upset by it. “I was going to ask Doris and Jay if I could spend the day with them, but they’re visiting Jay’s parents in Texas, so I’ll be spending Thanksgiving alone in the apartment. The peace will be nice, I guess?”

“Why don’t you come back to South Park with me?” Kyle suggested it before even considering if it was a good idea or not. He didn’t like the idea of Y/N being alone for the holidays. “My parents would be happy to have a visitor, and I’m sure everyone else would love to have you around for the week.”

“You know… I’d really like that… Thank you,” She smiled, reaching over and placing her hand gently on his arm in thanks. He could feel the warmth radiating off of her even through the sweater he had thrown on over the top of the t-shirt he had borrowed. “To be honest, I’ve never had a proper Thanksgiving. My brother spent holidays with his dad, so it was just Mom and me, and she would always be preoccupied with entering me in seasonal pageants and competitions to care about actually celebrating the holidays. I think I’ve had one Thanksgiving meal and two Christmas dinners over my life.”

“If my mom hears that she will flip, you’ll be invited to every holiday at the Broflovski’s for the rest of time,” He laughed, his hand resting on top of hers. “Which might be a bit of a curse now that I think about it….”

“I don’t think spending time with you could ever be a curse,” The words made him blush. His hand stiffened slightly, and he hoped she didn’t notice the effect she had on him. How could she say such things with no hesitation? “Speaking of curses, have you got any plans for Halloween? There’s a horror movie marathon at the theatre from 8pm until 4am. They’re going from the cheesy old stuff with horrible CGI to the movies that were banned in some countries because of how freaked out people got.” Halloween had crept up with alarming speed; Kyle had completely forgotten that it was that weekend.

“Horror movies aren’t really my thing,” Kyle laughed nervously. He had never liked horror movies, particularly when Cartman would insist on watching them at every sleepover they had growing up. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself by jumping every two seconds.

“You sure? You can always hide behind me if you’re scared?” Y/N teased, squeezing his arm lightly before removing her hand to brush her hair out of her face. “I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I promised Tweek and Craig that I would help with their party,” He sighed, remembering the promise he had made a month prior when he had thought he would have nothing better to do on Halloween. Tweek was more stressed than usual, and Kyle needed him to calm down a little as he was driving at the time, and it was making him nervous, so he had agreed to help in an attempt to soothe him. “Did Bebe not tell you about it?”

“She did…” Y/N grimaced, shifting her legs off of Kyle’s lap to stretch. He missed the contact instantly. “I’ve just been trying to find an excuse to not attend.”

“Ah, so hanging out with me is just an excuse?” He pretended to be offended but couldn’t suppress his playful grin when he saw her laughing. “You should come to the party, and we can be stuck-up nerds together.”

“We can just be so miserable and unlikeable that they kick us out of the party!” She gasped in delight as though she had just solved world hunger instead of plotting how to avoid a social gathering. “I guess I’d better tell Bebe I’m going.” 

“I’ll let my mom know that you’re coming for Thanksgiving,” Kyle smiled, grabbing his phone from his pocket. “She’s been asking to meet you; she’ll be so excited.”

“So you’ve talked about me to your mom?” Y/N teased. He froze, realising the words he had said. His mom checked in on him regularly, and he had told her all about his new friend immediately since she had become such a staple in his life already.

“I mean, we spend so much time together,” Kyle did his best to shrug it off as though he wasn’t embarrassed about it.

“Well, we should get back to studying,” Y/N grabbed her textbook and clicked her pen again, settling down to work. “Wouldn’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence on you.”

a/n - let me know if you would like to be on the taglist for this fic

current taglist - @n0tangeliccc @solana-central @charqing-qing @eiizabeth-torres @hand-writxen @audiliah @cosmicbroenies @himoutolikesjojo @katnipkoffee

[dearjohnegan]

Curt's Family-MOTA hs au

Sharon Biddick, she's working back to back shifts between a diner and doing secretary work at a garage. She loves Curt and Sawyer a lot, but just as easy as it is to love her kids, she loves the bottle. She’s been struggling with addiction her whole life. Her parents were immigrants from Ireland with very traditional Irish Catholic beliefs. So, rebelling in the streets of Brooklyn it was for her. How she ended up moving herself and her two boys from Brooklyn to Cheyanne?

About ten years previous her parents moved out there craving something similar to the Ireland countryside and the housing prices were lower. So, she brought the boys out there although she can’t afford much. (And Curt’s working all the time to help keep the lights on and food on the table.) she expected the move to help her sobriety but it wasn’t long before that changed.

(technically speaking this is aged up Sawyer because he’s nine/ten/11 in the events of the hs au) Sawyer Biddick, he’s devoted to his skateboard and making short films. He’s always been super super super into movies since he was young. It's how Curt conditioned and distracted him from the mess going on in their life. Curt just really wanted him to have the childhood he didn't get to have.

After Curt left for the military, he ends up running around with a bunch of skater rats and finds himself in trouble. He doesn't really apply himself in school, hes mouthy just like curt, gets into fights just like curt.

But in all reality, he really just misses his brother and craves any kind of attention from their mom.

Through Ken’s senior year, Sawyer sometimes still crashed at his place, or he went to John and Hams apartment a lot. As he gets older and Curt comes home on leave every once in awhile. Curt gets on him about the poor grades and seemingly back to back suspensions and daily detentions.

"You're wastin' your time with those, assholes. You can't keep-"

"And what would you know about staying out of trouble and using school to get us out of this shit hole apartment? You just ran off the first chance you got."

Queue a nearly physical fight between the two of them…

After Curt loses his leg and he finally is in the Denver VA. The first thing he says to him is:

“It’s the middle of the day, why aren’t you at school?”

“Got suspended.”

When he hugs him he literally smacks him upside the head and tells him he loves him.

Little fun fact for the end: Sawyers in a very melodramatic high school relationship with Gales little sister, Zoe. (They’ve been life long friends.) more lore to come about that later!! Or just send an ask if you wanna know more 💋<33

[dansconcepts]

Diner AU - Scrambled Eggs

I was debating on whether to go with another drabble about the Diner AU (and which one) or to post something completely different (from another AU). I'm deciding on this because my backlog of things is plentiful but also I have to clean them up a lil. Have some Komaru and Makoto (with Byakuya and Shuichi cameos) + some Komahina permeating throughout.

“Komaeda, I swear to God, you better order. You’ve been here for hours and haven’t eaten anything.”

“Or what?” The white-haired male grins, all innocently sharp, but he knows better. The absolute nerve of this guy! “That doesn’t seem very server-like of you, Hinata.”

“I’ll show you server-like!” He growls, and he’s about to grab Komaeda by his shirt when he gets bonked upside the head.

“Hey, no abusing the customers, you uncultured swine.” Togami scolds. He notices said customer and quickly adds, “Even if it is Komaeda.” 

“Ah, Togami! I apologize profusely on behalf of Hajime’s behaviour.”

“What the hell, Nagito!?” 

Togami fixes the brunette with a glare. “Hinata, quit it.”

A couple feet away, Komaru tilts her head at the exchange. She immediately scurries into the back, where she knows her brother is at the moment. “Um, Makoto?” 

Makoto hums, balancing a plate in both hands, and they walk and talk. “What’s up, Komaru?”

“I’ve never seen Hajime less than civil before. I know he can get angry, but I’ve never seen him outright attack someone.”

Her brother pauses and blinks at her. She stares back, confused.

He starts chuckling. 

“H-hey, what’s so funny? Isn’t this really concerning…?”

“No- ha!-, you’re absolutely right, I’m sorry for laughing- here’s your order! Enjoy!-, I just realized who you were talking about. Hajime and Nagito, right?” 

“Ah, sorry!” 

They both move out of Shuichi’s way, who nearly collides a glass of juice into them. She rights the glass. Shuichi gives her a nod in gratitude.

Makoto slides into a chair when all the customers are happily munching along. “Phew! I really needed this break. Thank goodness the lunch hour is all over.” Makoto chuckles. “So, you wanna talk about Nagito, right?”

Komaru nods.

“I’m not really sure what’s going on, but I just know they weren’t always like that? When Hajime first started, they were pretty civil. At some point, something happened? And now they’re at each other’s throats.” 

She looks over at the table, the way Hajime is leering at the white-haired guy “Nagito”. How the other gives him a calm smile and half-lidded eyes. How Hajime notices and immediately turns away, with… wait, is he blushing? 

Holy shit, Touko would call her delusional, and a mangaka, but-

“Oh, I get it now!” 

“Hmm?" Makoto scratches his cheek. “You… ‘get it’? Did you notice something I don’t?”

She snorts. It’s only an assumption, but… “Yeah, you’re pretty oblivious, big bro.” When she spots Makoto’s concerned frown, she stops the teasing. “I think they’ll be able to work it out.”

Her brother lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. I don’t know how you can tell, but you were always better than me about this stuff. Nagito’s… interesting… but he seems like a genuinely decent guy.”