#BILLY!!!!!!!!!!! SPINS U AND HIM AROUND

[bangbood]

️ ️️ @fyrepowa did : boop

     A  BROW  IS  QUIRKED  UP     when the fat of her cheek is squished from the small poke.     curiosity is evident from the way that lip lightly tugs up, fingers drumming on her knee.    "  you know,  "    belle starts, leaning back to cross her arms.     "  you    DOING    that will not stop the fact that my high score remains to be the best.  "     the chuckle that leaves her lips is a little more cunning than his group's title.    

"  wanna rematch  ?     maybe if you lower down my score, i'll consider     GIVING     you and your boss a discount the next time my help is needed.  "     just make sure that wise doesn't find out.

[reidmania]

home sweet home | s.reid

summary; you always try to do the grocery shopping early sunday mornings before your daughter wakes up, although nothing is better than coming home to her and Spencer, dancing around the living room as the sunrises.

warnings; established relationship, husband!spencer, wife!reader, dad!spencer, mum!reader, girl dad!spencer they have an almost four year old daughter who is obsessed with uptown girl by billy joel (me) very domestic, fluff fluff fluff!

an; beartober fic 4? i think idk tbh.. so beartober is actually just bearautumn or bearfall for all u americans.. THANK YOU, short and sweet, 1.1k

The sun is barely up, casting a faint golden light over the neighbourhood, bags of groceries filling your trunk. The air is fresh and cool, a calmness hanging in the morning that feels like a secret you’re carrying home. sun is just breaking over the horizon as you pull into the driveway, the early morning air still clinging to the quiet that the day hasn’t yet stirred from. It’s a strange sight, your little house framed by dawn’s first light. The neighborhood is still asleep, the windows dark, save for one—a warm glow coming from your living room.

Balancing grocery bags in your arms, you push the door open as quietly as you can. You can hear something faint—a familiar song wafting down the hallway. You don’t need to hear lyrics to know what song is playing, uptown girl by billy joel had been on repeat for the last serval days, your daughter’s new found favourite song. You can feel the bass through the floor, each beat somehow filling the house with an energy that’s playful, light.

Your curiosity piqued, you pad quietly toward the sound. As you near the living room, you freeze, the sight in front of you holding you captive. There, in the middle of your living room, is Spencer. His hair is a little wild, uncombed from bed, and he’s in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, the ones you tease him about because they’re so threadbare. And in his arms, held tight but free to move, is Kinslie, who just about to turn four, her hair a mess with similar uncombed brunette curls like her father’s.

Spencer’s dancing, moving in that awkward way of his that you love so much. It’s a careful, thoughtful kind of dancing. He sways and shuffles, occasionally spinning, his movements unpolished but joyous. Kinslie is laughing, her head thrown back, cheeks flushed, hands clutching at her father’s shirt as they twirl around. They don’t notice you. Not yet. You set down the grocery bags carefully, as if the slightest sound would break this spell, this little glimpse into their world that they unknowingly offered you.

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms, letting yourself enjoy the scene for a moment longer. “Again?” Spencer asks, when the song comes to an end, you wonder how many times it had played. His face is animated, light shining in his eyes, and Kinslie laughs even harder, when she nods, as he twirls her around, her feet barely touching the floor. She’s singing too, in her little-girl way, mostly mumbling the words but getting the chorus with an enthusiasm that’s pure joy.

It’s all so simple, so perfect. And then, as if sensing your presence, Spencer glances over and sees you. His face lights up in that way that makes your heart swell, that makes you fall in love with him all over again.

“Hey,” he says, breathless, a grin stretching across his face.

“Hey,” you reply, a smile tugging at your own lips. “Is this what happens when I’m not around?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Why? Jealous? You can always join in,” he says with a shrug, feigning nonchalance, the wide grin on his face. But you can see it, the pride, the warmth in his eyes as he looks at you, then back at Kinslie, who’s squirming in his arms, eager for another turn. “Thought we’d start the day off right.”

Kinslie wiggles, pulling at Spencer’s shirt. “Mama, dance with us!” She’s looking up between you and Spencer with a look that’s equal parts admiration and amusement. You look at Spencer, who holds out a hand, eyebrows raised in an invitation you can’t resist. The grocery bags can wait, the rest of the world can wait. Right now, here, in this little bubble of happiness and love, nothing else matters.

You step forward, your fingers slipping into his, and he pulls you close, gently at first, testing, as though you might decide to step away. But you don’t. You laugh, letting the music and his warmth guide you as you fall into the rhythm of the song. The three of you move together, a little circle of laughter, Kinslie’s giggles bubbling over as she tries to mimic your steps, your spins, your little flourishes.

He pulls you closer, Kinslie still holding onto him, her little arms wrapped around his neck, then she’s moving to latch onto you, a laugh leaves your lips as you take her from Spencer’s arms into your own. “Maybe I should stop going grocery shopping so early.” You mumbled, it became a routine for you, on Sundays you would leave the house early, before sunrise to try and get the groceries done before Kinslie woke.

And you seemed to always come home to her and Spencer doing something new. You never minded having an early riser as a daughter, maybe she loved the mornings with her dad. You couldn’t blame her, you loved mornings with Spencer as well.

He grinned as he placed his lips gently into your hairline, he knew well enough, bending down to place a similar softer one in Kinslie’s. “Maybe we should make them evening dance parties instead.” He suggested, so you could be more involved.

You snorted, continuing to bounce Kinslie on your hip to the music, “Baby, you and Kinslie are both asleep by eight pm.” You reminded.

He just grinned, Kinslie tugs at your shoulder, interrupting. “Mama, spin again!”

You grin and spin her around, making her giggle even louder. Spencer watches, his smile widening as he joins in, his hands gently guiding your waist so you spin in sync. For a moment, you’re all moving together, twirling and laughing, the room filled with warmth and love.

Spencer gives you a soft look, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Welcome home, by the way.”

You smile, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Not a bad welcome,” you murmur, feeling the love in his gaze, in the warmth of his hand on your waist.

Kinslie reaches her hands out to her dad, eyes wide and hopeful. “Daddy, can I be big?” She’s looking up at him pleading, those eyes he wouldn’t say no to even if he wanted to.

“Course you can, kins.” You let him place his hands under her much smaller arms and take her. Big to her, meant sitting up on his shoulders. He wasted no time getting her into position, each of her small legs placed over his shoulders as he held onto her.

“How many times has this song played?” You asked, as the song played once again. So it was on loop.

Spencer just gave you a look, one that told you it had played too many times. He didn’t mind, neither did you. It was hard to get annoyed at something that made your home feel so soft.

[svnluns]

⋆ fuck ur boyfriend

I was sitting at the end of the stairs, crying my eyes out at this party. I thought that partying would have cleared my mind after my boyfriend broke up with me but ig no.

I pulled out my phone out of my pocket and scrolled a bit on it.

I then caught a shadow approaching me. I looked up from my phone and looked at the girl in front of me.

I knew her since a few years now because we have always ended up in the same classes but i never really talked to her, mostly because i didn’t really care.

“Hey, whats up? Ur good?” She says, looking at me with pity.

“Yeah im fine” I answered, wiping my tears away and setting my phone on my lap.

She sat next to me and looked at me.

“You don’t seem ok, your eyes are all red, like you’ve been crying for weeks, whats the matter?”

She seemed actually “worried”. Maybe i should open up, i mean it’s no harm.

“My boyfriend broke up with me” I say, sniffing.

“Damn, i’m sorry, i’m sure is an asshole, u deserved better anyway” she says looking at the crowd of people dancing and then at me.

I didn’t really know what to say. She had a point, I put so much effort into this relationship for nothing.

“You want a drink or something?” She says, taking me out of my thoughts.

“Yes thanks Billie” I say with a weak smile.

She turned her head to me and looked at me with a confused look.

“How do you know my name?” She says.

“We’ve been in the same classes for years, i might have never talked to you but i remember your name eh”

“hmm” was all she said, turning her head and walking away.

We ended up in the kitchen. She took 2 red cups and poured some vodka and some coke.

“fuck your boyfriend, just have some fun tonight, you will have time to cry about it tomorrow” She says with a smile.

“fuck him, he wasn’t even good in bed” I say with a chuckle.

“that’s what i like to hear” Billie answered with a smile.

She grabbed my wrist, and dragged me into the living room where people were dancing and drinking.

Billie started to dance with me, grabbing both of my hands and spinning me around. I started laughing before i could stop myself.

Her smile defined that seeing me smile tonight was all she had hoped for.

“See you’re finally smiling, i’m glad that i could have helped you clear your mind”

We then stopped dancing and she leaded me to get some air. My head was spinning and that’s exactly what i needed. It feels like she was reading my mind.

We sat on a chair and she spoke again.

“Are you feeling better now? Please tell me that you don’t think about him anymore, i did everything that i could to make you feel better tonight” She says playfully.

“I am in fact feeling better, thanks you so much, i own you”

“Nah don’t worry about it, you’re good” She says, looking at me up and down.

I knew what was about to happen already, how she was looking at me meant only one thing.

She leaned in and kissed me. She kissed me with passion, like it’s one of the things that she wanted to do tonight beside making me happy.

I kissed her back and positioned my legs on her lap.

As we kissed, I felt a rush of emotions and a burning desire that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Her hands roamed over my body with a hungry urgency, and I knew exactly what i wanted.

Without breaking the kiss, she stood up, pulling me with her, entering the house, we were giggling while making our way to one of the empty rooms in the house.

As we entered the room, she pushed me against the door and pressed her body against mine, her hands roaming under my shirt and sending shivers down my spine.

I had no idea that this would have happened tonight, and i hid no idea that she could make me feel that way.

She pulled me closer, her lips finding mine in another passionate kiss. Her hands wandered down my body, touching every inch of my skin with a hungry touch. Her touch made me shiver, and a low moan escaped my lips.

She smiled, her fingers tracing over my stomach and trailing down to the waistband of my jeans.

She slides her hand down in my jean, and started to touch my pussy, rubbing her hand on it.

She unbuttoned my jeans and pulled my thong to the side, so she could have a better look of what she was doing.

A few moans escaped my lips as she was now kissing me to keep me quiet.

I couldn’t stop arching my back, she knew exactly what she was doing, her fingers moving with an expert precision that made my legs tremble.

“You’re so sensitive, i love it. She whispered.

[goosita]

Ahhhh Thank u so much for writing my request ab Billy dealing w stress!!!! U made my night I fr was kicking my hair and giggling like there was no tomorrow. U & ur writing are everything and more fr <333

Another idea just occurred to me…what would Billy like you to wear? Take this as you will, but I can see him losing his mind over off the shoulder frilly things…maybe….

clawing at the carpet and biting the drywall tbh bc he so would like lace and ruffles make this man fall to his knees !!

i think there’s really two ways this could go. billy has moods, yk?

on the one hand, he thinks you look beautiful in anything you put on. but he has a particular fondness for the days when you meet him out in the meadow, blouse tucked into a well-fitted pair of pants and your riding boots. it means he gets to haul you up onto his horse without the fear of muddying or accidentally tearing any of your pretty skirts or dresses.

he also likes it because he can tell you’re so comfortable in it. the way you move, the way you’re so much less careful. billy can get you seated nice and comfy, your back to his chest and his arms around you as you ride through the tall grass or weave through trees in the woods. he likes the way this particular type of outfit makes you less self-conscious, and makes you feel more free to have fun with him…❤️

on the other hand, this darling man will lose his ever lovin’ mind if you appear before him in soft laces and frills. you’re already always so soft compared to him, when you sit perched on his bed in a little lacy nightgown that barely brushes the tops of your thighs; one that only just falls over your hips. billy is at your mercy and you both know it. his eyes wouldn’t know where to look first, to your shoulders where the delicate ruffles slip down? to your chest, framed so beautifully by the dainty fabric? or to your legs, so neatly folded atop his blankets?

he’d be on you in an instant, laying you back and crowding into your space. billy is a rough man— but not with you. not with his precious angel. his lips are already skimming your throat by the time your head is cushioned by his pillow, his hips slotting between your eagerly spread thighs.

“jesus christ, sweetheart. you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes, almost purring against your skin. his teeth nibble at your skin and it makes you giggle; his favorite sound in the world. you can feel his smile before you see it, when he lifts his head and gazes down at you with the most charming and boyish grin. he adores you, and tells you as much before he’s dipping his head back down to smother you in slick, eager kisses that make your head spin.

billy takes his time working you up, littering your body with lovebites and feeling the way you writhe beneath him. it’s not long before he has you gasping his name, pulling at his hair and begging him for things that used to make you blush, things that you used to be too shy to say in front of him. you aren’t shy anymore, though. you know billy will always give you anything you ask for.

your hands reach down to pull your little nightie off, and he growls softly, catching your wrists in his hands and pinning them above your head.

“leave it on, baby. please? for me?”

yeah. yeah, he likes you in anything, but soft frills may be his favorite.

[chrissv4mp]

i'll love you 'til the day that i die! MATT S.

summary: you and matt have been frenemies since the 8th grade. when you both go to homecoming, you get picked for homecoming queen, and chris is your king. matt can't help but storm outside of the school angrily.

pairing: matt sturniolo × fem!reader

warnings/topics: arguments, vulgar language, fluff, sorta angst, confessions, highschool au, etc.

a/n: LOVE THIS SONG SMSMSMS also this probably makes no sense towards the end cause i was purely running on 2 bottles of water😖

"matt," you exclaimed, running into his room without any warning.

he jumped a little, eyes snapping toward the direction of his bedroom door.

you took a seat at his desk, pushing yourself toward his bed with your feet before spinning around to face him.

"why do you have so much energy this early in the morning?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken up a few minutes ago.

"cause, i just got big news? and, sorry for being so happy to see you?" you joked, rolling your eyes and leaning back in the chair.

matt hummed in curiosity, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it look better, "and what's the news?"

you almost couldn't stay still, changing the way you were sitting every moment or so.

"i got nominated for homecoming queen!" you all but yelled, making matt flinch slightly at the loud noise.

his smile was small, but very smug as if he was gonna say something to bring you down.

he could never shut his mouth whenever you brought up something good that happened to you, he always had to one-up you.

"cool, cool, but i've gotten nominated for homecoming king like years in a row. it's nothing big to be nominated once," he shrugged, keeping direct eye contact with you and watching as your face contorted into a subtle look of sadness.

your frown was small, and if matt hadn't been the one to trigger it, then he probably wouldn't have noticed.

he always did this, and you should've been used to it by now. but, god, did matt know how to push your buttons.

"yeah, well, i didn't see your name on there this time. you're not someone special, y'know?" you laughed, trying to hide your frustration.

matt's grin only widened at your words, "huh. well, it'll be there by tonight. those girls can't resist my charm, not even you, y/n."

"shut up. nobody wants a homecoming king that's an asshole to every girl he meets." you groaned, crossing your arms over each other.

"maybe, but you're the only girl i dislike at the school." matt bit back, leaning against his headboard as he stared you down.

you let out a quiet huff, looking around his room and letting your eyes land on the corkboard he had on the wall opposite his closet.

there were letters, pictures, and polaroids of all of his friends. and in one corner, there was a polaroid of you and him at the beach.

there was writing below it, 'i want u to stay 'till i'm in the grave<3' it was in dark blue sharpie.

your lips upturned into a small smile. he didn't hate you. he never really could, even if he tried.

"doesn't seem like you dislike me," you broke the silence, pointing over at the board.

matt's smile dropped, and his face flushed a soft pink color as he sat up straight. "just get out, would you!"

you giggled to yourself as you got off his chair, not forgetting to give him the middle finger before closing his door and walking back down the hall.

nick looked up from the sink as he heard your footsteps walking past the kitchen, turning around to look at you.

"bye, y/n," he smiled softly, waving over at you and accidently splashing water on the kitchen counter.

"see you later, nick," you smiled, waving back before resuming your walk down the stairs and out of the house.

"birds of a feather," chris said, breaking the silence between the four of you.

nick raised an eyebrow, looking to the side to see if chris was talking to him.

the younger boy was pointing over at you and matt, at the opposite end of the booth you all were sitting at.

"what?" matt laughed over the loud chatter of the cafeteria, crossing his arms before looking over at you.

you were confused just as he was, staring over at chris with an unsure look on your face, "right... and what are you yapping on about this time?"

chris looked dumbfounded, staring at the three of you in disbelief as he scoffed, "you guys seriously don't know that saying? i thought you were older than me."

"by, like, 2 seconds?" nick said, leaning on the table as he picked at the cafeteria food with a plastic fork.

chris punched his brother softly, rolling his eyes before explaining, "birds of a feather flock together, it basically means you guys are alike in one way or another."

matt laughed, looking over at you before giving his attention back to chris, "we are nothing alike, trust me. she's horrible at communicating, and i'm amazing at it. i'm popular. she's not."

"yeah, he's stupid, and i'm smart. remind me how we're alike, again?" matt looked away at your remark, silently mocking you.

"look at your outfits right now, if i didn't know any better i would think you guys are matching." chris pointed out, nodding his head in your direction.

nick nodded, "he's right, you guys look like a couple."

both yours and matts face flushed bright pink, and you looked seperate ways, embarrassment washing over the two of you.

"yeah, more like a couple of friends." you forced out, looking back up at nick and chris.

nick raised his eyebrows, looking away.

"and not to mention the many times you both have said the same phrase. like, tell me you hang out too much without telling me you hang out too much?" chris joked, laughing at himself.

nick chuckled quietly, nodding his head in agreement with his brothers.

"that's a coincidence." you mumbled, sitting up straight.

"it's happened more than i can count, i don't think it's a coincidence of any sort." nick said, looking over at matt, who just dragged his hands down his face.

"well, whatever. not like it's gonna last forever," matt said, and before anyone could reply, he stood up and left to his next class.

the bell rang a few seconds after, and you, nick, and chris gave each other confused looks.

"sorry, y/n. he's probably just had a rough day, i promise you he doesn't mean it." nick reassured you, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

he left a few moments later, and chris stayed with you.

"don't take it to heart, 'kay?" chris muttered softly, smiling at you.

you nodded, and chris began to add on, "i've seen him cry over you. he tells me he doesn't know why. all he says is that he doesn't think he could love you more than he already does."

nodding, smiling softly before watching chris get up and leave. now it was just you and your thoughts at the table alone.

huh. who would've thought matthew sturniolo, one of the most popular guys at school, would be crying over you, quiet, kept to herself, y/n l/n?

you couldn't tease him about it, you did the same thing for him. you always cried over matt, not even knowing why because he had never really hurt you.

you always just sobbed to nick about how you would love him 'til the day that he dies. and after those words registered in your head, you only cried more at the thought of matt dying.

but those nights, you were usually drunk or super high. nick always knew how to calm you down, though, he was always there for you whenever you needed.

matt had also occasionally been there for you in your lowest times, never hesitating to break the speed limit getting to your house.

he always confronted the boys that had stood you up, never let anyone talk bad about you or even give you dirty looks. even if he didn't consider you a friend, you thought of him as one.

"i just don't understand," matt whispered shakily as he looked up at the night sky, stars scattered all around and lighting the place around in just the slightest.

you sat next to him, fingers playing with the blanket the both of you were on, "what don't you understand?"

he shrugged, "i don't understand how anyone could love me."

your neck snapped in his direction, eyes widening a little as a million thoughts came to your mind.

you wanted him to see how he looked in your eyes. he was the funniest, most handsome, kind boy you have ever met (even if he did occasionally tick you off).

you wanted him to know how many subtle compliments you gave him that he never noticed, but still took.

but then again, you wanted to just tell him how he was so full of shit. he knew that anyone and everyone was capable of loving him.

he knew that he could get anyone wrapped around his finger in less than a week. hell, he sure got you wrapped around his finger in just a matter of 2 days.

"i just don't get what people see in me. sometimes i just want to quit everything i do at the thought of it." matt added, finally turning his head to look at you.

your gaze softened as he looked you in the eyes, a subtle look of concern plastered on your face as you reached out to pat his shoulder.

"don't be stupid, matthew. i think that if anyone even glanced in your direction, they would instantly fall in love. you're all any girl would want."

matt smiled, and you reached over to move his hair to see his face better. he was truly beautiful. you couldn't ever get tired of the sight of him.

"you really think that?" matt asked, and there was just the tiniest hint of smugness in his voice.

you nodded, tilting your head to see matt better in the pale moonlight.

"i do," you whispered, and before matt could speak, you cut him off, "and don't ruin this moment with one of your stupid remarks, matthew."

matt's lips parted, but he chose to stay silent. he was grateful for moments like this with you, when it was just you two alone and nobody else.

he loved being alone with you, especially late at night when you guys would have these deep talks. no words spoken here would ever leave, neither of you would bring those topics up.

it was a nice feeling, one that made him feel safe and secure in your presence.

as the months passed by and new memories with you were made, matt felt like you were slowly creeping into his heart, invading all of his senses.

all he could think about was you now, and he couldn't ever get you out of his head. not even when he was in boston, more than 2,000 miles away from you.

it came so fast, and you almost couldn't believe that you were standing outside of your high-school with your best friends, all dressed formally.

you were wearing a satin dark blue dress that went down to your knees, while matt and chris were wearing suits and ties.

matt's suit was navy blue, his dress pants being white to match with chris, who was wearing a white suit and navy blue dress pants.

nick wore an all blue suit, his tie being the only white thing on his outfit besides from his collared shirt he wore underneath the suit.

"holy shit, you're stunning, y/n!" nick exclaimed, stretching his arms out before you hugged him tightly.

he smiled into your hair, patting your back before pulling away from your embrace.

"talk about stunning, look at yourself, nicolas! you look amazing, blue looks beautiful on you." you complimented, smiling up at him before walking to stand beside him.

he interlocked your arms, and you finally got the chance to look over matt and chris' suits.

"we look better than you guys ever could," matt said, swinging his arm over chris' shoulder and pulling him closer.

chris smiled, nodding in agreement as he wrapped his arm around matt's waist.

"i don't know, y/n's dress might beat us." the younger boy shrugged, to which matt rolled his eyes at.

"you tell yourselves whatever you want, we're gonna go inside to get the night started," nick stated, pushing past chris and matt and purposely shoving matt playfully.

the two brunette boys weren't slow to follow you and nick, chris rushing in front of you to hold the door open.

when the four of you got intonthe gym, it immediately felt like you guys were gonna have the best night ever.

the lighting was a darker blue, illuminating all the bodies beneath it and capturing every small movement the kids made.

"wow," you whispered, and nick echoed you.

"hello, and welcome, los angeles lions to our 34th annual homecoming dance!" madi exclaimed into the microphone, her eyes scanning the paper she was holding.

the school cheered in excitement, and chris screamed out an encouragement for madi.

she smiled at all the familiar faces before leaning into the microphone to read from the paper again, "these past few weeks have been a little chaotic with all of the new nominees for both homecoming queen, and homecoming king, and tonight won't be any less chaotic."

"now, i'm honored to welcome up on stage the nominees for homecoming queen," madi spoke before flipping the paper over to the other side.

she read over the names, and a big smile came to her face when her eyes landed on the first one.

"please welcome up to the stage y/n l/n," she said, her smile frowing impossibly wider.

chris and nick shoved you around playfully before you finally came to your senses and ran up to the stage. it was an unreal experience, being one of the nominees, you felt like you couldn't compare to any of the other girls.

"alahna estrella," madi said, reading a few more names over the loud cheering of the students before she moved onto the boys.

the gym went silent once madi announced that she would be calling up the boys for homecoming king, now.

"now, i'm very happy to call up to the stage one of the very popular sturniolo triplets..."

matt got ready to walk up to the stage, but when the name fell from madi's mouth, he froze in shock.

"christopher sturniolo!" she said happily, clapping along with the other students.

your eyes widened at the sound of chris' name being called, and you clapped for him.

nick watched as chris made his way up the stairs onto the stage, yelling out his name and clapping for his brother.

matt clapped slowly, the realization that he wouldn't get to be the homecoming king washing over him. whatever, it didn't matter anyway because he already had 3 crowns from past years.

more names were called, and even nate was invited up to the stage as a nominee for homecoming king.

when the crowd settled down, madi had began to speak again, "now, the announcement that we've all been waiting for... this year's homecoming king is.."

madi's eye widened in surprise before she smiled big and read off his name, "christopher sturniolo!"

matt sighed, clapping for his brother. he was happy sure, but then again he was jealous. things always went his way, and he just wasn't ready for this happen.

was he being selfish?

after chris was crowned homecoming king, he stood beside madi up on the stage, smiling big at all the students of his high-school.

"and, for your homecoming queen. this year's homecoming queen is y/n l/n!" madi said, clapping proudly at you as she watched you get crowned.

you couldn't believe it. it felt surreal, like you were in a dream you couldn't wake up from. as you walked over to chris, he pulled you into a huge hug, muttering a quiet, "congratulations." into your ear.

madi took yours and chris' hand as she walked back up to the mic, bringing all of your hands into the air as she yelled out into the microphone.

"please give big love to our new homecoming king and queen, y/n and chris!"

the students cheered, some jumping up and down out of excitement as they screamed their hearts out.

matt huffed angrily, jumping out of his seat before pushing his way past multiple people to get to the exit.

he didn't go unnoticed by you, your eyes following him as he stormed out of the gymnasium.

you were surprised the door hadn't made a sound, it looked like he slammed into the door without even flinching.

"shit," you whispered, worry flashing over your features.

as soon as you got off stage, you ran out of the gym, ignoring all of the people who tried to congratulate you on your way down.

you ran outside of the school, turning every way to try and spot matt. when you did, his eyes locked with yours.

he was sat on the sidewalk, a streetlight illuminating his face as the spotlights had done inside.

you ran over to him, taking a seat next to him and scooting close to him.

it was silent for a few minutes. the two of you just absorbed in all of your thoughts about what just happened.

"congratulations on homecoming queen, i'm happy for you." matt said, looking over into your eyes.

you smiled, "thanks."

"sorry you weren't nominated, i thought you would have been considering you have been every other year." you apologized, and matt shook his head softly.

it wasn't just that, it was the fact that his brother was your homecoming king. it was the knowledge that matt would never get to be your king.

it was the fact that he would never get to be yours.

"i'm sorry, i just can't do this anymore, y/n." matt stood up from his spot, and you looked up at him.

you raised an eyebrow, worry still lingering in your head from matt's earlier outburst, "what? you can't do what?"

you stood up next, now face to face with the boy you both hated and loved the most.

"i just don't understand what we are, what i mean to you and what you even think of me. you keep giving me these fucking mixed signals and i don't know how to interpret them!" matt held his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an effort to calm himself down.

you swore you felt your heart shatter at his words. maybe this wasn't gonna be the best night you've ever had.

"what- mixed signals? i.. matt, what are you talking about?" you thought you knew what he was getting at, but as the words came out of your mouth, the thoughts fled from your mind.

matt muttered inaudible words before he finally spoke clearly, "you keep pushing me away and then pulling me back again, and i don't know what to do, y/n."

"do you want me, or am i just some guy you're toying with to get popularity? one minute you're nice and you have my back, and the next you're so fucking cold it's like i'm not even there, like you don't even care about me."

your eyebrows furrowed, he was explaining exactly how he made you feel.

"don't be a hypocrite, matt. i don't even act that way, you're explaining exactly what you make me think. i have all these thoughts and ideas i want to share with you, but when i do, you come over and push them down. why would i even want popularity? i don't give a shit about it, matt!"

"why do you do this to me, seriously?" your voice cracked, and only then did matt realize you were crying.

he groaned, taking small paces back and forth as he breathed heavily.

when he stopped, he was right in front of you, gaze soft as he stared into your e/c eyes.

"because i love you," he finally spilled it, and he didn't regret it. not at all.

the look on your face was not at all what he was expecting. he thought you might he disgusted or even angry.

"don't act so surprised, y/n." he said quietly, cupping your face with his hands.

they were cold, but you still leaned into his touch as he wiped away your tears.

he pulled you closer to him, and you ended up in his arms as you began to calm down. "god, i hate you, matt."

"yeah? well i'll love you 'till the day that i die." he muttered softly.

you laughed quietly, punching him playfully before pulling away.

he stayed silent, a soft smile on his face. as he continued to stare at you, he started to realize more and more things.

one thing he realized was that he never wanted to say goodbye.

maybe chris was right. maybe you two were birds of a feather.

. . . . . . . . .

tags: @cindylcuwho

[milliesfishes]

Hii! Do u think u could write something about maybe how in the second episode in season 1 billy and reader r together and she accidentally gets herself in the middle of him and antrims feuds and billy becomes very protective?

౨ৎ꣑ৎprotective billy antrim౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Billy Antrim came to you like a rainstorm soaking a flower field.

His family had moved into town less than a year ago, a lovely mother, adorable little brother, a tired looking man and Billy. Your attention was piqued immediately by them. Plenty of new families moved to Silver City all the time, but there was something about this one...well, something about their oldest son...that kept your eye on them.

You merely watched from afar at first, eyeing them from the marketplace or the general store. It wasn't that you set out to see them, but they happened to be in town often at the same times you were.

But it wasn't until you met Mrs. Antrim that you started to get closer to them.

You were looking at a bolt of fabric, running your fingers along the material and debating making a new dress out of it when she appeared beside you. She was looking at another fabric, pinching it between her fingers. Noticing you, she smiled. "That's a lovely color." A lilted Irish accent made her words all the more charming to you. "It'll look fetching with your hair."

"Thank you," you smiled, looking over at the blue color she was examining. "Is that for you?"

"My son, Billy," she explained, holding up a bit of it and considering. "He needs a new shirt. He's had the old one for a long while."

"I see," you nodded, measuring out a stretch and handing the shopkeeper the money for it. "Do you live in town?"

"Yes," she smiled sweetly. "Just moved here a few weeks ago."

"Do you like it so far?" you questioned, folding up your cut.

"It's a far sight from some of the towns we've lived in," she laughed. "In the best way."

"I'm glad to hear it," you said, watching as she paid for her own fabric. "It'll be wonderful to have you here."

"Kathleen," she introduced herself, holding out her hand. You shook it nicely, telling her your name. She eyed you with a smile. "You're a sweetheart. I'll be happy to come across you again."

Indeed, every time you did after that she was. Kathleen always had a kind word for you, and you looked forward to seeing her. She was the first of the Antrims you met.

The second was Joe, whom you quickly grew fond of. He was with his mother one day in the market, and after that you'd slip him a sweet in passing every time you saw him. He was a sweet little boy who clearly loved his mother dearly.

Mr. Antrim was next, although you didn't exactly meet him. He came often to the bar you worked at, and you served him whiskey after whiskey almost every time you had a shift.

And then there was Billy. You'd heard Kathleen speak of him several times, but never come across him.

Until one day when you were out walking on a cloudy day as you often did, in a meadow close to town. Musing to yourself as you wandered, you were surprised by a raindrop hitting your nose. Looking up, you noted the dark grey color of the sky. Hopefully it wouldn't be too bad during the walk back.

But quickly your hopes were put to death when it began to pour, the rain soaking your skin and dress. You laughed, spinning once and holding your hands up to the sky.

A voice startled you out of your bliss, and you spun to see a man standing behind you with a concerned expression on his face. "You alright miss?"

Nodding in a bit of a daze from the shock, you realized who it was. The only member of the Antrim family you hadn't met.

You couldn't help but study him up close. So many times he'd been observed from far away, and your curiosity had gotten ahold of you this time. Billy was tall, on the leaner side but with broad shoulders. There was a gun belt slung around his hips, and a hat on his head, with dark brown curls peeking out. His shirt, you noticed with a modicum of satisfaction, matched the fabric Kathleen had been looking at awhile back.

"I'm okay," you assured him, pushing some of your wet hair out of your face. "I was just taking a walk and now..." you looked up at the sky then back at him. "I don't mind the rain."

This brought a little smile to his face, but he still moved closer to you. Now you could see the color of his eyes. Pure, deep blue, like the sky on a cloudless day. He was less than a foot away from you. "Still, it's gonna be a rough storm, looks like. Would ya-?"

Thunder rumbled nearby, and you jumped, automatically moving toward Billy. His hand came to your back in a protective way that nearly made you swoon.

"Ain't safe to walk back now," Billy commented, looking down at you. "Here, we can go into the clearing 'n wait out the worst of it."

"Okay," you nodded, and he took your hand, leading you through the meadow and into the trees, hiding where it was dry. The both of you were soaking wet.

"I know a little spot nearby," Billy explained, still guiding you through the clearing. "Lightning hits trees, don't want ya to get struck."

"That wouldn't be great," you agreed, and he gave you a nod.

"It's just-ah!" Billy led you to a slot in the nearby mountain akin to a gaping mouth. "Here. We'll be safe in here."

"You've been here before?" you asked, shivering a bit as you stepped in. It was dark and cold and you folded your arms around yourself to try and maintain a little body heat.

"Come here sometimes," he explained, nodding at a little circle of stones near you. "I'll start a fire. Could be awhile." You noticed a stack of cut wood to the side. It was clear he was a frequent visitor.

"Sit," he nodded, stacking wood in the circle and pulling out matches. "Can't have ya freezin' to death."

You did so hesitantly, putting out your hands when the flames started to catch on the wood. Looking up at him, you tilted your head. "Do you often rescue strange girls from thunderstorms?"

A smile quirked his lips. "I know who you are. My momma's rather fond of ya. M' brother too."

That made you smile, and you looked down. "I see."

He was sitting with one leg propped up, an elbow resting on his knee. "My momma reckons you're a sweetheart."

"That's nice of her," you blushed, looking down. "She's lovely as well."

"She is," he agreed, studying you. There was a moment of silence as the fire crackled, and with the way he was looking at you, you shivered in a way that didn't have anything to do with the cold.

He held out his arm. "C'mere."

"Hm?" you furrowed your brow in confusion.

"You're still soakin' wet," he said, his arm still extended. "I've got plenty've heat to go around."

"You're wet too," you pointed out and Billy laughed.

"Yeah but I'm bigger than you. C'mere," he flexed his fingers. "Lemme warm you up."

Carefully you moved over, into the safe looking space of his arm. He pulled you against him, settling his hand on your midsection as he held you close. "This alright?" You nodded, letting yourself lean into him. His clothes were still damp, but he was warm. You liked his hand there, big and warm with fingers sprawled across you.

"I've seen you around town before," you said quietly, your cheek smushed against his shoulder.

"Have ya?" he sounded amused, his fingers twitching on your side. "'nd ya never said anything?"

"No," you said simply, and he chuckled.

"Think I woulda noticed such a pretty girl," he commented, and you saw him set his hat by the fire to dry off.

That made you blush more, and you couldn't help your smile. "I keep to myself."

"Ah," he nodded in an understanding way. Billy rubbed your side in a respectful way, trying to warm you up more. "Has your family lived here long?"

"Not too much longer than yours," you said, staring into the fire and watching it dance.

"What's the story?" he questioned, looking down at you. "If ya don't mind me asking?"

"My father married someone new," you explained, looking up at him with a soft smile. There was something about him that made you want to tell him everything in your mind. "He wanted a fresh start."

He was looking at you in a way you couldn't place, but it felt warm. Cautiously, he lifted a bent thumb to brush a strand of wet hair from your cheek. "D'ya like it here?"

"More and more," you said, looking up at him. Something changed in his eyes and you looked up at him with doe ones. "Why did your family move here?"

Billy chuckled lightly, brushing your cheek with his thumb. "Y'know, it was pretty much the same reason as you. 'cept it was my mother who got married a lotta years back."

You nodded in understanding, looking up at him. "It must've been hard."

"Was," he nodded. "I'm gettin' used to it though. The town, not my mother's husband."

"Don't like him much?" It slipped out before you could filter it. "Oh- I'm sorry-"

"It's okay," he assured you, giving you a fond look. "It's okay. No, I don't. He's...well, he's done things no man should be proud of."

You nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry. It can't be easy living with him." Your hand moved to his on your stomach, interlacing the fingers and squeezing. It felt so natural that you barely remembered you'd only met him today.

Billy smiled softly. "Yeah. But it's okay." He squeezed back. "He ain't my whole life."

The storm turned out to be far more perilous and long than the two of you had originally thought, and when he suggested you spend the night in the cavern, you agreed straightaway. You were happy with your choice when he laid down by the fire and snuggled up to you from behind to keep you warm.

After the night in the cave, you found yourself drawn to him. He would come up to you in town and chat, leaning against a market stall or the railing of the porch to meet your eyes. You enjoyed spending time with him and found yourself missing him when he wasn't near you.

When he kissed you for the first time it was raining again, but this time you were in town, ducking under a roof in an alleyway. You were both laughing, and you'd accidentally fallen into him, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. He held onto you tight, looking into your eyes and the next thing you knew his lips were on yours, cool from the rainwater. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to reach him.

From that point on, the two of you were inseparable. You fell hard and fast for him, jumping into his arms like he was a lake on a hot day. He adored you, was with you at every possible moment.

It was such a whirlwind, and you loved every second. You quickly learned what it meant to be Billy's girl, and it was a smooth river of flowing love and attention and time. He took you for walks in the clearing where you'd met and let you sit in his lap while you braided daisies together. He'd sneak you onto the rooftop of his house and show you his favorite stars, telling you all their names. Especially concerned with your safety, he escorted you everywhere, keeping an arm around you so everyone knew whose you were.

Billy would come wait for you at the bar in the tail ends of your shifts, drinking a whiskey and watching for wandering eyes. His stepfather was still a frequent visitor, and Billy didn't like you around him at all.

It was true that Antrim's eyes had a tendency to linger, as did his hands, but he seemed to keep to himself when Billy was around.

You didn't know much of what had happened between them, only that Antrim had done some horrible things in the city from which they'd come. You knew it was a sensitive topic, so you didn't ask many questions.

One night, when you were finishing cleaning up at the bar, you noticed Antrim still at the table he'd occupied all evening. Everyone else had cleared out, but he nursed a glass of whiskey, staring at the wood of the table.

You approached him, drying off another glass as you did. "We're just about closed, Mr. Antrim. Can I pour you one more?"

He looked up at you, eyes catching on parts of you that you'd rather they didn't. "That's alright darlin'. I'd best be headin' out." There was a look in his eyes that you didn't like, and you took one step back.

"Okay, I'll-"

Suddenly he stood up, grabbing your arm. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as you tried to wriggle away. He chuckled lowly. "You're real pretty, y'know that?"

"Mr. Antrim-" you tried, but he held firmer, and the glass slipped from your hand and shattered at your feet.

"Oh ya look even sweeter up close," he whispered, and your breathing quickened, your eyes wide with fear. One of his hands came to your waist, trailing upward to your chest. "Bet if I could touch-"

"Antrim."

Both of you looked up and saw Billy at the door, arms folded. Antrim didn't let go of you. "Kid."

Coming closer, Billy gave him a warning look. "Let go of 'er."

"Aw you're not gonna kick my ass over this little thing," Antrim scoffed. Billy got close to him, grabbing hold of his arm that was holding yours.

"I said let go." His words were glaringly threatening. When Antrim still didn't loosen his grip, Billy shoved his arm off you, sending the drunk man stumbling a few paces backward.

Billy's boots crunched over the broken glass on the floor as he brought you close to him, putting his hand on the back of your head and bringing your face to his shoulder. "Out."

You heard the sound of footsteps scurrying out, and Billy heaved a sigh of relief. He rubbed your back, his big hand on your head making you feel safe. "M' baby," he murmured, hugging you tight to him. "You okay? He didn't hurt ya?"

Shaking your head, you drew back to look at him. He rested his palms on your cheeks and you held his wrists. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry this happened to you. He's rotten, ain't ever leavin' ya alone here 'gain."

"Billy," you were a little shaky from the experience and he recognized that, drawing you back into his arms and kissing your head, whispering sweet things into your hair.

He led you to his bed for the first time that night, not for anything sexual, but for protection, assuring you Antrim wouldn't come home. And even if he did, he'd have Billy to deal with. You snuck past Joe, reaching into your pocket for a piece of candy to leave on his pillow by his head.

Billy smiled at the gesture and reached out his hands for you, holding you like a teddy bear between his arms. You settled your head on his chest since he only had one pillow, and besides, you liked better here anyways.

It became a bit of a habit after that- coming to his bed after work for that feeling of safety that you had only ever found in his arms. You loved him for wanting you to feel that way. Kathleen never said a word about it when she saw you leave in the morning, only smiling at you in her sweet way.

Rarely did you come across Antrim in their home, and when you did you were always under Billy's arm, feeling like he was a shield. The nights you spent with him were always peaceful, and you treasured them dearly.

One night, after collapsing into him after a longer shift, you woke up in the still, eerie hours of the morning and Billy wasn't there. Looking up, you realized it was raining, the steady sound making you smile.

You waited a few minutes, but Billy didn't come back. Standing up and stretching, you smoothed your dress and made your way out to see if he was in the kitchen. No Billy.

Once you were there though, you could hear a distinct, violent sound coming from outside, easier to hear over the rain now that you were closer to it. Hesitantly curious, you opened the door, and immediately, you were frozen.

Billy was throwing a punch at Antrim, sending the man tumbling to the muddy ground. He shouted something and Billy did too, their words impossible to make out through the rain.

But before you could go back inside, Billy turned around and saw you, his face falling. He just stood there, in the pouring rain for a moment, staring at you and gaging your reaction.

Finally you willed yourself to move, and you came forward to him, not caring that your clothes were getting soaked. Reminded of the first time you met, you let the memory make this scene a little softer.

You reached for his knuckles and saw how bloody they were, the rainwater washing some of it off. Without saying a word, you led him by the hand back inside, and he followed.

Grabbing a rag from the sink, you pressed it to his hands, one at a time. The blood stained your hands, but you didn't care, your eyes never leaving him. He seemed ashamed, and he avoided your gaze the entire time you were cleaning him up.

Putting the rag down, you took both his hands in yours, squeezing them. "Billy," you started softly. "What happened?"

He exhaled softly, still not looking at you. "'S not for you to know, baby."

"Billy," you repeated, leaning in closer. Your words were unmoving, intentional in their purpose.

Squeezing your hands back, he closed his eyes as he spoke. "He was tryna come back in. Said some things I won't repeat."

"About what?" you pressed.

Billy met your eyes. "'bout you, sweetheart. He hit me where he knew it'd get me."

You inhaled sharply, searching his eyes. "You..."

"Hey," Billy squeezed your hands again, sensing your distress. "I get into it with Antrim all the time. Ain't no big deal."

Shaking your head, you found yourself on the verge of tears. "Your hands were bleeding..."

"Alright, alright," Billy removed his hands from yours and brought them to your waist instead, pulling you into his lap, your back against his chest. One of your legs was situated between his knees, and the tiny gesture comforted you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms around your middle. The both of you were still wet from the rain but neither of you cared.

"Needed ya to be nice 'n close when I told ya this," he murmured, kissing your shoulder and lightly rocking you back and forth. "Angel...there ain't nothin' I wouldn't do to keep ya safe. You're my girl. That means you've got me no matter what. Understand?"

You nodded, leaning sideways so you could rest your head on his shoulder. Instantly you knew the gravity of what his love for you meant. Here was a man who loved you enough to protect you.

The realization only made you love him more, and you told him so when the two of you were cuddled back up in bed that morning, the sunrise starting to peek through the window.

"I love you," you breathed against his chest, your affection swelling from your heart and pouring out your mouth like sunshine.

He held your head to him and kissed your hair. "I love you, sweetheart. You're safe with me. I promise."

And as dawn stretched its rosy fingers into the sky, the way you loved him was smooth and soft like the rain that had brought you two together, only leaving joy in its wake. The steady flow of his love was something you could hold onto, something safe and solid, always found when you were nestled in his arms.

come talk about billy here!

[nolovelingers]

I love ur writing sm. Could you please write a Billy or Stu fic? Thank u sm!

PUSH AND PULL, BABY! ⋆ ˚｡ ୨୧ stu macher

⠀⠀⠀ ︵ requested 𓈒 𓄧

⋆ ★ ex lovers rekindle their (constantly flickering) flame after stu is pushed towards confronting you upon seeing you with someone new.

cw ᝰ .ᐟ sfw ,, jealous!stu ,, ghostface!stu and billy ,, stu is intoxicated ,, several mentions of alc

PURPOSELY LOWERCASE 🎧 &&. written on iphone sorry if funky format =)

in the dimly lit, smoke-filled living room, the atmosphere was electric with the energy of dozens of young, carefree souls lost in the throes of music and alcohol. the air hung heavy with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat and the tang of burning cigarettes. bodies swayed to the beat pulsing from the speakers, a mass of limbs and laughter in the flickering glow of the disco ball spinning lazily overhead.

the house was a sprawling two-story affair, its once-pristine walls now adorned with band posters, graffiti art, and the occasional drunken scrawl. the hardwood floors, long since stripped of their varnish, creaked and groaned beneath the weight of the revelers. the kitchen counters were littered with the night's worth of drinking - empty bottles, overflowing ashtrays, and the remnants of half-eaten snacks scattered across.

cordless lights strung haphazardly from the corners of the house and the still of the windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the scene below. the light played across the faces of the dancers; painting them in shades of blue, green and purple, their eyes reflecting the pulsing glow as they moved in time to the music. the air was thick with the acrid tang of marijuana that clung stubbornly to the life within the home.

groups huddled together, engaged in loud conversations. the distant sound of laughter and the occasional shout of drunken revelry; coming from two boys in particular.

stu, his eyes glazed and twitchy from god knows what, sidled up to billy amidst the writhing throng of bodies, pressing up (in billy’s opinion) way closer than he needed to be. he leaned in close, invading his personal space as macher tends to do, shouting over the cacophony of the party to be heard.

his eyes, bloodshot and manic in the disco lights, flicked over to billy with a drunken, lopsided grin. he had to grab billys shoulder to steady himself.

macher grinned maniacally, his eyes darting. "dude!" he hollered, slapping billy hard on the back, nearly knocking the shorter boy off balance. "this parties a fucking BLASTTTTTT! i fuckin' just- i fucking love these things, ya know?!" he gestured vaguely at the gyrating crowd, nearly tripping over his words.

billy scowled, stepping away from stu’s proximity. "jesus, macher. could you not breathe down my neck? and watch the fuckin' hands." he glared at stu’s grinning face.

stu giggled, a high pitched noise that cut through the thumping bass. “my bad, bro.” his grin doesn’t falter, if anything it seems to widen, hardly a trace of a thought behind his eyes. he held up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning like an idiot. "im just tryin' to spread the love, ya know?"

billy rolled his eyes, "more like spread the creep, you fuckin' weirdo." he shook his head in exasperation.

stu laughed, a high-pitched, almost hysterical sound. "creep? man, im just a lover, not a fighter." he punctuated his words with a clumsy, off-beat dance move, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. when he caught himself, he wound up swaying around in one place, his eyes stuck on the floor.

he seemed out of it all of a sudden, like he was reminded of something. “im a lover, bro.” his eyes stayed stuck on the floor for a while, dissociated in place.

billy eyed him in suspicion. "you dumbass." he crossed his arms. "what's the deal with you tonight, stu? you snort a whole fuckin' bag of crazy or somethin'?"

stu giggled again, a bit too loudly and with an edge that was almost unsettling. "nah man, just the usual shit. ya know, same as always." he waved a hand dismissively, but his grin was starting to look more like a grimace.

he was trying too hard, billy could tell. stu was always a bit of a wild card, sure, but this was different. he was acting even more erratically than usual, his eyes too wide and his laughter too high-pitched. billy had known stu for long enough to recognize the signs of something being off.

he was trying to distract himself, that much was clear. but from what? loomis’ brow furrowed as he studied his friend's stretched smile.

he was trying to act casual, but his body was coiled tight, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"you're being a fuckin' weirdo. more than normal. somethin's up with you." billy's voice was low and serious, his eyes narrowing as he studied stu's twitching face. he followed the way stu's gaze kept flicking to the doorway, to the spot where his (freshly) ex - y/n - had been standing by with a guy.

stu licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. he needed to change the subject. fast. "who, me? man, im just fuckin' lit, ya know?" he forced out another giggle, but it sounded hollow and false even to his own ears.

he was trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his chest, the way his skin felt too tight and too hot. he was trying to ignore the way his mind kept flashing back to the sight of you, all over that fuckin' prick's arm. that fuckin' prick who wasn't him. thatstupidfuckingprickwhothefuckevenisthisfuckingguywhyshisfacelooksofuckingstupidijustwanttofuckingkillhimwhatkindofoutfitevenisthat

stu could feel a pressure building in his chest, a tightness that had nothing to do with the beer he'd guzzled or the joints he'd smoked (or the things he’d snorted). it was a different kind of tightness. a squeezing, churning sensation that made it hard to breathe. he pressed a hand to his sternum, trying to will the feeling away, but it only seemed to intensify.

his hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white as he pressed it harder against his chest. the pressure inside him was building to a crescendo. he could physically feel it pulsing through his veins, setting his nerve endings alight with a unstable energy.

"fuck, i can't stand seeing them together." stu’s voice was low and guttural, barely audible over the pounding bass. he completely seemed to forget about the fact that he was meant to be covering his jealousy in front of his friend. "it makes me wanna...fuck. I dunno what i wanna do to him exactly, but it's definitely bad." he laughed, but it was a harsh, bitter sound that had no joy in it whatsoever.

“i just wanna- i just wanna kill him. billy, let’s fucking kill him. should- should i talk to them? i should talk to them. i should go over there. billy, i gotta get over there.”

“take it easy, man, that’s a terrible idea, y’gotta chill the hell out first.”

he watched them from across the room, watched as you threw your head back and laughed at something your new boy toy had said. watched as you touched his arm, your fingers lingering on his bicep in a way that made stu's blood boil in his veins. he watched as you leaned in close, your faces inches apart as you whispered and flirted with each other.

it was too much. it was more than he could take. stu felt like he was going to explode, like he was going to tear apart at the seams from the force of his own rage and anguish. he couldn't stand it anymore. he couldn't watch you together, couldn't see you touching someone else, couldn't bear the thought of you smiling at anyone but him.

“fuck it,”

without thinking, stu pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes laser-focused on the ‘couple’ across the room. he marched up to you, his steps heavy , the manic and unstable ear to ear grin that had always lingered on his face returned.

stu sidled up to you, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light, smile eerie as ever. "hey there, lovebirds," he drawled, his voice dripping with false cheer. "having fun, are ya?"

he looked the guy dead in the eye, his gaze intense and unblinking. "i gotta say, man, it's pretty fuckin' ballsy of you to be all over my partner like this." stu’s voice took on a mocking, incredulous tone.

behind stu, billy rolled his eyes and sighed, shaking his head at his friend's reckless behavior. he knew stu was just trying to cover his jealousy with his typical macho bullshit, but he couldn't understand why he had to be so fuckin' obvious about it.

stu watched with a sense of grim satisfaction as the other guys face paled, realization dawning in his eyes. "what the fuck?" he sputtered, taking a step back from you. "you didn't mention anything about having a fucking boyfriend."

stu smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he loomed over the shorter man. "oh, didn't tell you that little detail, huh?" he snorted, making sure to speak louder than you were trying to, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“fuck this, and fuck you too."

with that, he turned on his heel and stormed off, shouldering his way through the crowd and disappearing into the night. stu watched him go, a laugh bubbling up from his chest as the realization that his plan had worked sank in.

and just like that, it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of the writhing mass of partygoers. the air between you was thick with tension, the silence stretching out for a long drawn-out moment as you stared each other down.

stu's grin softened, taking on a more genuine, almost tender quality as he looked at your beautiful, angry face. "guess it's just you and me now, babe," he said softly, "just like old times, huh? fuck that guy." he had no guilt or remorse displayed as he spoke.

he reeled back slightly, his grin turning impish as he took in the exasperated expression on your face. "what, you're not happy to see me?" he clutched at his chest in mock distress, his eyes wide and wounded. "im hurt, y/n. i thought we had something special, you and me."

despite your annoyance, you could feel a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. stu's playfulness was infectious. you shook your head, trying to maintain your irritation even as his grin threatened to chip away at it.

"you're such a fuckin' idiot," you muttered, "i can't believe you just did that. what if i really liked that guy?”

stu's eyes lit up with a eager gleam as your words sank in. "wait, so you didn't like that asshole?" he grinned widely, his face splitting into a triumphant, feral smile. "i knew it."

he stepped even closer, backing you up against the nearby wall and trapping you there with his body. his hands came up to rest on either side of your head, caging you in as he leaned down to murmur in your ear.

"tell me you don't still think of me. tell me you don't miss the way i make you feel. you know nobody can love you as good as i can, baby." his voice was low and intense, breath hot against your skin.

you could feel a shiver running down your spine at the proximity from the heat of his body being so close to yours. his eyes were dark and intense, boring into your own with an almost hypnotic force. you swallowed hard, heart starting to race in your chest.

"stu..." you breathed, voice barely above a whisper. "we can't...i mean, we're not...you can't just..." but even as you protested, you could feel your resolve starting to crumble, the old feelings rising up to the surface like a tidal wave threatening to drown you at his intrusion of space.

his grin turned wolfish, eyes glinting with a predatory light as he watched you struggle to find the words.

"c'mon, baby," he purred, his voice a low, silky rumble. "use your words."

one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her bottom lip. "tell me you don't want me to kiss you right now."

his other hand drifted down to your waist, pressing his body closer to yours and causing you to feel the cool hard wall behind you.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, making you look up at the whopping 6’3 man.

stu's grin turned absolutely wicked as your breathless words reached his ears. "kiss me.”

“i thought youd never ask, babe.”

and with that, he closed the distance between you, capturing your mouth in a searing, hungry kiss. it was a kiss that spoke of pent-up longing and aching need.

his lips moved demandingly against yours. one hand fisted in your hair, holding you in place, while the other slid down to grip your hip, pulling you impossibly closer.

he kissed you like a man starved, like a man who had been wandering in the desert for fifty years and had finally found water.

he kissed you like he never wanted to let you go, like he wanted to devour you whole and make you a part of him forever.

after a long, heated moment, stu finally pulled back, a smug grin spreading across his face as he took in your kiss-swollen lips and dazed expression. "fuck, i missed that," he murmured, "i missed you."

you blinked up at him, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. you couldn't help but grin back. "youre still a fuckin' idiot. i can't believe i fell for that. again. this is seriously the third time youve pulled this exact stunt with different guys."

stu just laughed, a sound that seemed to rumble through his chest. "aw, but you love it, baby." he leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours as he murmured, "don’t you?" his eyes had a sort of soft look in them, like he was looking for your approval. like he’d resemble a kicked puppy if you told him otherwise.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled up in your throat. "youre impossible," you said, shaking your head in exasperation. "seriously, who teaches you your moves? some shitty rom-com?"

"nah, im a natural born lover, baby. its all me." stu's grin was positively sinful, his eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement.

his grin softened into a more genuine smile as he gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours with a newfound sincerity. "y’know, i’been thinkin'..." he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "what the hell were we thinkin' when we broke up in the first place, huh?"

you giggled, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall, your eyes sparkling with a hint of nostalgia. "i don't even remember anymore," you admitted, your smile turning a bit wistful. "does it really matter?"

stu's grin widened, his eyes glinting with a playful, mischievous light. "nah, i guess it doesn't," he agreed, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

he leaned in closer. "soo.. you wanna get back together?"

and then you smiled. a slow, soft smile that lit up your whole face. "yeah," you whispered, voice barely audible over the pounding music. "i do."

stu's face split into a wide, joyful grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed softly. "hell yeah, baby," he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss. "welcome back."

` ੈ˚ ★ a / n : HI ANON thank you sm for the compliment btw ^_^ ill probably get a billy fic pumped out soon i just gotta think of a plot or smth . i feel like this was short idk :? im sorry

started 1.15.2025. finished 1.15.2025.

( scream masterlist )

©️ nolovelingers 2025

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER ONE: BEST OF TIMES, THE WORST OF CRIMES

next chapter →

✦ summary: in which you return to hawkins to attend your best friend nancy's wedding, facing the problems you left behind, and the one person you abandoned; eddie munson. (wc: 9.4k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, pining and slowburn, reuniting <33, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic relationship, reader is sad and feels guilty. kinda mean eddie but not rlly.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — okay so its finally HERE. im SOOO EXCITED for u guys to read it!! i have tried to proof-read this a lot but my mind is fuzzy so ignore all mistakes!! if u need some stuff to listen to while reading this long ass chapter or the songs mentioned in it u can check out the playlist !! hope yall enjoy it mwah &lt;3

series masterlist | series playlist

I'm a cold heartbreaker Fit to burn and I'll rip your heart in two

The sound coming from your slightly jammed stereo while the rain gently pattered on the roof of your car could’ve been heavenly. 

If only it weren’t the roads of Hawkins that you were travelling in. Five years that had passed were seemingly nothing when you recognized the familiar streets and the infamous forest, heart skipping a beat when you finally arrived on Maple Street. 

The cars parked just outside of the Wheeler House were enough to give you anxiety, especially when your eyes spotted that van. His van. Why did he still have it? Wasn’t he a rich rock star by now? There was an unnecessary bitter taste in your throat, and your gaze was stuck on the van now, gulping physically as you tried to ignore those guilty feelings bubbling up inside of you. Mind quick to revel in all those memories you had with him in that stupid vehicle.

5 YEARS AGO.

“Hurry!” You whisper-yelled, still looking around, Eddie was right behind you, his tongue darting out of his mouth as it always did when he was focused, running like hell as his calloused hands harshly gripped the tequila bottle that you two had just stolen.

The angry voice of the shop’s owner had long disappeared by now, but you could never be too careful. When you finally got close to his van, you stopped Eddie immediately. “Behind you!” You yelled in a fake-worried voice, causing Eddie to start sprinting forward toward the car.

When he noticed you not following and breaking into laughter, his worried face eased as he realized your little prank, giving you a humorless laugh as he started sprinting towards you.

You squealed when he grabbed you by your waist, lifting you off in one swift motion, spinning you around as your giggles filled the space.

Eddie’s grin faltered quickly. “I hate you,” He mocked in a serious tone.

 “I’m sorry, but I just love that worried look on your face. And, oh god, that sprint! You know what you should be?” You asked, a smirk forming on your lips as you waited for him to fall into your trap.

Eddie sighed exhaustedly, a grin plastered on his face, he put you down.

You squealed happily as he did so, “A... Tiger!” You mimicked pompoms with your hands as you tried to re-do your cheer routine, chanting after Eddie.

He playfully nudged your shoulders, “Oh, Pinky... You are on a roll today, huh?” He asked, the nickname rolled off his tongue so sweetly. It was a stupid fucking name, sure, but you loved it. It somehow stuck, the entire town calling you Pinky ever since you pronounced ‘Pinky Promise’ wrong once and your parents funnily referred to you by it.

You nodded, giggling, stealing the bottle from his hands, and chugging a sip. “This was a great idea.” You hummed, pointing to the bottle, the bitter taste burning your throat, almost coughing with how big of a chug you took.

He quirked his brows, flying over to your side as he opened your car door.

“Let’s go, thief.” He tilted his head, hands gesturing forward animatedly.

“What a gentleman!” You mocked dramatically, sliding into the messy van easily as Eddie heaved a sigh.

He sprinted toward the other door, cursing as he struggled to open the rusty door, eyes bulging out of his head almost as he checked to make sure the coast was clear. “You know…” He started with a muffled sigh as he hopped into the driver’s seat. 

“Everyone thought I would be a bad influence on you… or that you would at least be a good influence on me, but ever since I met you, all we have done is illegal shit.” His voice was mocking. “I think it’s time you give up that good girl cheerleader title, princess. Because forcing your best friend to steal booze is definitely not good girl material.” 

Throwing your hands up in defense, you turned to him. “And they still think you are the devil worshipper!” You added, a hearty laugh escaping from your slurry lips.

Eddie sighed when he couldn’t turn the ignition properly, his van—Aurora, which Eddie of course named himself—was too old now.

“Oh, come on, baby,” He whispered when his fingers roughly tried to turn the key further, earning a hesitant cough from his precious Aurora. “Pleasepleaseplease…” He whispered, engine roaring back to life now with his second try. “There you go, honey, thank you!” He exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air, mouth quick to press up against the wheel, giving Aurora a thousand kisses, causing you to squint your eyes.

“You are… pathetic,” You scoffed with a shake of your head, a teasing smirk playing at your lips.

“Oh, we’ll see who’s pathetic,” He disagreed dramatically. His eyes diverted from the road as he sneakily grabbed your bag, causing you to protest quickly. “Hey!” He didn’t mind your tug on his bicep when he dug his whole arm into your bag, fiddling as he tried to find your cassette tape under all the mess.

“There we go,” He hummed when he animatedly pulled it toward your sight. ‘BEST MIXTAPE’ The tape dramatically read when Eddie snatched it out of your view stuffing it away from you. 

“If you make fun of Aurora, you lose your music privileges.” He hummed all-knowingly, a troublesome look overtaking his features as he focused back on the road. Your gaze squinted, barely able to see his plump lips that were now quipped into a grin.

“Really…” You hummed, hiding behind the way your lips twitched mischievously.

Eddie’s curiosity was quick to perk up; you not whining ‘Eds!!’ as you elbowed him and huffed when you called him a jerk meant only one thing.

You had some really good new music.

“You sure about that… Munson?” You quirked a brow, grin growing wider as you seized your bag from his hands, earning a groan from Eddie.

“What have you got up your sleeve, sweetheart?” He asked, stealing a quick glance at one of your pretty smiles before he turned his attention to the road.

“Something really good…” You hummed, hand diving into your bag again before you reclined in your seat, throwing him a knowing look.

“Jesus…” He whined. “What d’ya want?” He implored, his gaze squinting.

You wanted to keep the game going, tease him further, and get him to his breaking point. But the way his eye twitched with curiosity, tongue licking his lips with need made you want to tell him everything, let him in on your little surprise.

“Hmm… Music privileges…” 

“And?” He asked with a huff, knowing that’s not all you wanted.

“And, I’m gonna pick the place where we drink this cutie!” You exclaimed, hand pointing toward the tequila bottle you had a firm grip on.

He threw you a glare; it wasn’t a hard glare, you knew it and he knew it, he did it just to tease you, and that’s exactly what had you so giddy about him. “Fine…” He whined, teasing further. “Whatcha got?”

You clapped animatedly, pulling out the cassette with a huge grin. The Cure’s ‘The Head on The Door’ album was swaying in your hands as Eddie groaned.

You pouted. “You got me all excited for The Cure?” He pinched his brows together, causing you to gasp dramatically, huffing.

“What’s wrong with The Cure? You love them!” You protested, glaring at him.

“You love The Cure, sweetheart.” He grinned, earning a scoff from you as your hands were quick to wrap around your chest annoyedly.

“Just for that, you won’t get to know what the second album is. And it really was a good one.” You shrugged, putting the bag in front of your legs, just out of Eddie’s reach.

“Oh, come on!” He sighed, eyeing you with squinted eyes. 

“I was joking! I love The Cure.” He murmured, but you shrugged again, eyes falling toward the window as you started giving him the silent treatment playfully.

“Really?” He understood your play. “Jesus H. Christ.” He huffed, attention turning toward you.

“Just check the glove compartment.” You ignored him again.

“Pinky.” He called out. “Do it.” His eyes pointed toward it, causing you to sigh as you opened it unenthusiastically.

A bunch of cassette tapes fell toward your lap, you squealed at the contact. “Eddie!” You exclaimed with a chuckle.

Three Imaginary Boys, Seventeen Seconds, Faith, Pornography and The Top was sprawled across your lap, and your eyes widened.

The Cure’s discography. Just sitting in his glove compartment.

You turned to him with an affectionate gaze, hands covering your mouth as you stood speechless.

“Wh-what are these?” You were a stuttering mess. Did he really do all of this for you?

“Uh–I’m pretty sure those are albums, princess,” He mocked you in a playful tone as you tilted your head, tongue sticking out in a childish manner.

His smile grew wider before he shook his head. “Started collecting those–uh… after that day–uhh, you remember that?” His gaze avoided yours. 

“We–uh almost got kicked out of The Hideout?” He muttered with a sly grin, eyes focused on the road just so you wouldn’t notice the slight flush on his cheeks.

“Eds–” You attempted to speak, but he didn’t let you. “You remember that day? You asked me what my favorite band was?” You nodded furiously, Eddie didn’t even have to take another glance at you to know you had a warm smile on your face, sensing your head bobbing up and down excitedly. 

“Y-you know, before they tried to kick us out?” You gave him a slight giggle, humming.

“I told you mine was Dio. And you told me yours was The Cure?” A dizzying grin was stuck on your face, cheeks stretching with pain from how big it was. And Eddie knew if he looked, even for a split second, he’d fall for you all over again. He knew that he couldn’t contain those feelings inside of him anymore. So he avoided it. He avoided that one glance thrown your way because he didn’t want to lose you.

You bowed your head to say ‘yes’ again, words didn’t dare come out of your grinning lips. You didn’t know what to do; you wanted to hug him, feel his arms wrapped around you. You wanted to kiss his flushed cheeks and his apparent dimple, which you couldn’t get enough of.

The silence hanging in the air was killing you. “I remember.” You muttered, almost shyly, like the two of you weren’t teasing the hell out of each other mere seconds ago. 

His brows furrowed when you leaned over your seat again, digging something from your bag as you hid it behind you.

“That is why…” You smiled, hands shaking as you hid the cassette behind your back. “I got you this!” You exclaimed, swinging the tape in front of his bulging eyes.

His eyes squinted before the realisation set in. You remembered that day. Just like he did. You remembered his favorite band. Just like he did yours.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, you were just being friendly, right? You didn’t do this in the same loving, caring way he did. You did this as a friend. You were a great friend. And he was an asshole for harboring these feelings for his best friend.

He couldn’t help the squeak that escaped his plump lips. The car came to a halt quicker than he intended it to. Swinging you over your seat, making you squeal with him.

“Jesus, Eddie!” You giggled, turning to face him and seeing his speechless face as he admired you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, and it was embarrassing.

Why did he have to look at you like that?

Why did he have to complicate things for you?

You wouldn’t be good enough for him.

And there was Billy. Billy. Billy. Billy—

Your inner thoughts were interrupted by his childlike screams as he seized the Sacred Heart album by Dio from your hands.

He didn’t hesitate—like you did—to engulf you in a hug. Hands securely resting on your lower back, and you could feel your breath hitch.

You would spend all of your work pay checks on stupid damn records if it meant you could see him like this again, and you’d happily starve if it meant you’d have him hug you like this again. But that’s what friends did, right? 

“Oh my god.” His eyes widened, tone much calmer before his excitement rose up again. 

“Oh my fucking god, Pinky!” He yelled in delight again, taking you by surprise when his hands were holding your shoulder in excitement. 

“Y-you… shit- you got this for me?” He asked with a sympathetic gaze.

You nodded quickly. “Of course!” 

“Why’d you think we had to steal that bottle?” You winked teasingly, causing him to snort.

“Pinky, you’re the fucking best.” He muttered into your hair, a grin overtaking your features when he held your face in his hands, honey-glazed eyes boring into yours.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.” His fast-paced mantra left you giggling again before he pressed a small, appreciative smooch on your forehead.

He was just being friendly, you thought. There was no way he could want something more. You were beyond fucked up for that, and Billy was the only proof you needed.

He sighed contently when he relaxed back into his seat. “Wherever you want to go, princess, let me know.” He winked with a childish smile.

The two cassettes were replayed over and over again before the two of you made your way to your ‘special destination’.

Dragging Eddie through the woods while he whined earned several giggles from you. He chugged the bottle in his hands with a sour face.

“How much longer do we have to fuckin’ walk?” He complained, his feet dragging on to exaggerate.  

“We’re almost there, you dork.” You squinted your eyes at another frustrated groan escaped his lips. Laughter erupting from your stomach teasingly before you handed him the stolen bottle, Eddie chugged quickly, and his face soured, “How did you even find this place anyway?” He asked.

“Skull Rock?” You asked, and he nodded. “Wait, you don’t know about Skull Rock?” You questioned, eyes widening, causing Eddie to roll his. “C'mon, Pinky, not all of us hang out with the prissy popular kids.”

You gasped and playfully but still harshly hit his chest, “Ow!” He flinched. “Shit, are all cheerleaders as heavy-handed as you?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Hey, I barely touched you!” You smirked while he faked getting hurt, rubbing his chest mockingly.

“Skull Rock is known as the make-out spot of Hawkins.” You enunciated dramatically as Eddie ooh-ed, “Thanks to, ‘King Steve’”, you mocked, mimicking air quotes.

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Wait… wait,” His walking came to a halt when he tried to process that information. “Y-you and Steve?” He asked, dumbfounded, a slight overtone of jealousy was apparent in his tone, mixed with his own insecurities, and your face was quick to sour. “God, no!” You scrunched your nose; you loved Steve, but not in that way, never in that way.

“Who do you think taught him this place?” You tilted your brows. 

“I came here the first time my parents left with a tiny note stuck on the fridge.” You shrugged. You were used to your parents always leaving you without any notice other than a scribbled note that told you that they’d be gone for a while. And you never knew if it would be for days or for months. Now that they've been gone for the last four months, you assumed it was permanent this time, and even though you never admitted to it, it fucking hurt. Coming here has been your only escape lately. And all you wanted to do was share it with Eddie, have him in your comfort zone. 

Eddie’s face soured; you could see that red tint on his cheeks, almost like he was furious. And he was, because he understood. He understood what it was like to have deadbeat parents who were fucking useless, he understood the pain it brought and how it could make a person feel so fucking unwanted. But at least he had Wayne. You didn’t have anyone. The closest thing to you had that resembled a family were your friends and the Wheelers—and even that wasn’t enough to give him some peace of mind. 

“When Steve had his first heartbreak, I brought him here, but that fucker turned this place into an orgy party,” You continued, a simple chuckle escaping your lips. 

“And after that, people started coming here all the time for their little make-out sesh.” Your hands stretched forward to make a point, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Even Billy took me here one time,” You murmured the Billy part, wanting to avoid the talk with Eddie because you knew neither of them liked each other, and you rarely, if ever, spoke about him with Eddie, while Billy always announced his distaste for Eddie, murmuring about how it was obvious that the “freak” just wanted to get in your pants.

“You know, Billy is one of those people who think I’m a bad influence on you because I’m a “freak” and “devil worshipper,” right, sweetheart?” You avoided his gaze.

You didn’t want to talk about Billy, at least not with Eddie, and not now. You just wanted one thing to yourself without him being involved, which seemed impossible.

You forced a smile. “Well, Billy is…” an asshole, an idiot, and sometimes a fucking narcissist, you wished to say, but you didn’t want to drag Eddie into your relationship problems. Billy was still your boyfriend, and in all honesty, your on and off relationship was something that no one actually understood.

Nancy gave Billy a glare each time he came around, Steve and Robin constantly reminded you how awful he was. But it didn’t matter, because you couldn’t let him go, each time he fucked you up in a different way, you went back to him.

You took him back because you didn’t know any better, you accepted him because love was supposed to be like this, wasn’t it? It was supposed to be a challenge, it was supposed to be fucking hard. It was supposed to be something to fight for.

But it was so…exhausting. Trying to get him to understand you, trying to get him to care, trying not to make him mad—walking on egg-shells each time you were around him.

And everything was so fucking different with Eddie; things were so uncomplicated with him and so fucking fun. You didn’t want to admit that you wanted that… that you wanted him. 

Because he was easy—and in the best possible way. He was so easy to love. He was safe and he made you feel safe. When he caressed your back, when he opened a door for you, when he let you walk in front of him with his hand ghosting over your lower back, when you asked him to hold your bag and he swung it over his shoulder. He laughed at things easily, he made you laugh easily. He listened intently, when you just wanted to open up for a bit, he was quiet; when you needed someone to talk to, he gave you all the advice in the world.

And more than anything, Eddie cared. He cared about you, in a way you had never been cared for before.

He brought a side out of you that you never knew existed; relaxed. He was gentle with you, he knew how to joke around, and he didn’t have any problems being who he was. He was open and nice; he didn’t get angry at everything, and it was just… nice to be around him.

You shook your head at your thoughts, “Billy is Billy.” You concluded, eyes fixed on the ground. Eddie just gave you a small smile, as if he understood your train of thought. His hands caressed your back reassuringly in a way that was telling you that it was okay to think what you were thinking, and it brought an imminent smile to your face, knowing that he would always be there for you.

You remembered that night clearly when the two of you drank an entire bottle of booze you stole, and smoked Eddie’s stash, bodies lazily laying next to each other, Skull Rock had the best view, stars filled the empty sky, and a crescent moon appeared between them.

It was relaxing, lying with Eddie, high out of your mind.

“There’s no way you think Honeycomb Cereal is the best breakfast food.” You shook your head as Eddie scoffed.

“I do! It counts as breakfast, and you can also eat it as a snack on its own, what more do you need?” He raised his brows, taking a puff from the joint sitting between his index fingers.

“Uh? I don’t know, waffles? Eggs and bacon? Actual good cereal?” You mocked, causing Eddie to nudge your side lightly.

“Oh, and which cereal does the princess think is the best?”

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch, of course,” You said proudly.

“You are disgusting.” Eddie scrunched his face. You shrugged with a grin on your face as you snatched the joint from his fingers, reaching for the lighter in his hand. And before you could even light the blunt sitting in your fingers, the carved lighter caught your attention.

It was a silver Zippo lighter with a dragon print and had scratches all over it. You scrunched your brows as you looked up at Eddie and said, “What the hell is this?” You held the lighter up, and Eddie seized it from your hands.

“A lighter?” He replied smugly, causing you to huff, “Where did you even get it?” Your curiosity peaked.

“Bummed it off a guy at the bar last night, pretty fuckin’ cool, huh?” He asked, getting excited as he showed you the print, the carving of the dragon was so detailed that you could basically count its scales.

“Stealing is considered cool?” You murmured, causing Eddie to give you a huff as he placed the lighter on the rock between the two of you, allowing you to get a more detailed look. 

“Really, Pinky?” He almost snorted. “How about you answer that one, because the tequila bottle you’re holding wasn’t paid for... If I remember correctly,” He mocked a thinking face, dimples ever-so apparent as he tried to contain his grin.

“I–We!” You expressed in a higher tone, “Didn’t steal that bottle because it was cool, doofus. We! did it because we’re poor.” You enunciated the ‘us’ part again before nudging his rib slightly and prodding, earning a “Hey!” from Eddie, who was ticklish. 

“Anyway.” You giggled, handing the lighter back to him with a grin on your face, “Would’ve been cooler if it was pink.” Eddie gave you a weird look.

“What?” You implored, shrugging carelessly.

“Pinky liking pink… what a surprise, huh?” He said sarcastically, causing you to groan.

“Don’t be such a guy, Munson,” You warned, you liked pink, but both of you knew that wasn’t why the nickname stuck. And it didn’t matter what it truly meant because you liked it. You liked that it was the only thing you had from them that didn’t leave—something that was truly yours, something that would never abandon you. 

“Oh, you know that’s not why, you doofus.” You rolled your eyes. “Have you ever seen a pink dragon?” You gushed, and Eddie shook his head. 

“See! Case closed.” You grinned.

“Pink dragons are cool,” You said with a determined face, and Eddie couldn’t help the grin that was plastered onto his face now.

You spent the rest of the night giggling like a bunch of kids over nothing, the chilling breeze of the Hawkins nights providing comfort to you that you had never felt before.

When your shivers hadn’t stopped, you heard Eddie sighing, “Okay, you are getting my jacket,” He insisted, annoyed, because you had refused his offer for a jacket a million times just because you didn’t want him to be cold.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head before you could open your mouth to refuse. Calloused hands quick to securely wrap his infamous black leather jacket around you. You looked up at him, a sympathetic gaze apparent, as you tried to refuse, tried to insist that he would get cold, but he didn’t accept it. “Better I freeze off than you.”

Your heart fluttered before it was apparent on your face, lips twitching into a warm, sickly sweet smile as you accepted, “Thank you,” You murmured, almost shyly. The jacket fell comfortably on your shoulders, a whiff of weed, beer and the old leather smell engulfed you, warmth taking over your entire body.

You liked the feeling of wearing something that was his. In fact, you liked it too much. Something about Eddie always provided some sort of security for you. He made you feel comfortable in your skin, like he was meant to be there for you, like he was supposed to help you, even when you repeatedly told him you didn’t need it. You cleared your throat to gather your thoughts, taking the joint in his hands as your head slowly but comfortably fell on his shoulders.

Taking a puff from it, you looked over at Eddie. “As soon as I graduate, I’m leaving this place.” You could feel his head turn toward you, his gaze almost burning its way through your hair. 

“Eight months, eight fucking months left.” Your tone was the most serious he had heard that night, and he couldn’t help but have a baffling look on his face. You had mentioned something about ‘leaving this hellhole’ before, but he never knew how serious you were, at least until now.

He shook his head quickly to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and scare you away, so he shrugged. “Fine, but you can’t abandon me, I’m coming with you.” His tone was nonchalant, and it brought a smile to your face.

“I would never leave without you.”

NOW.

You shook your head at the memories, at least you had achieved one of those things. You got out of the hellhole that was Hawkins as soon as you graduated, being selfish enough to not care about the ones you had left behind, but you needed to do whatever you could to survive, and you shouldn’t have to apologize for it, right?

Right?

It’s what you kept repeating to yourself, but there was one part of you that always felt guilty for leaving without a goodbye, cutting off all contact. And that guilt returned with Nancy’s invitation; you knew you couldn’t hold off on her wedding, no matter how much you wanted to escape the town that caused you agony.

Nancy was your best friend when you were living in Hawkins, she was there with you through everything, and the Wheelers were there when your parents abandoned you, inviting you to their home as if it were nothing. 

You've seen Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin several times in the last couple of years. Especially after Nancy told them the exact reason why you left, they understood and welcomed you. 

That’s what you loved about them; even though you spent some time apart, they would always be your best friend. And that is exactly why Nancy picked you as her maid of honor—because she knew you’d always be there. She trusted you with her whole life, and so did you. The two of you knew things about each other that no one else did. 

And I'll leave you lyin' on the bed I'll be out the door before you wake

You huffed when you turned the stereo off, the lyrics giving you a stupid familiar  feeling, like it was written about you and Eddie. Like Axl and Izzy were hiding somewhere in the California apartment you and Eddie stayed in right after you left, as if they witnessed you leaving him there. 

The song became an afterthought when you realized you actually had to go in now or one of Wheeler’s snobby neighbors would surely call the cops on you for suspiciously watching the house while hiding in your car like a coward.

Eddie was already in there.

What if everyone else was there too? 

Would they cuss you out and tell you to fuck off? 

You surely deserved it.

You cursed yourself when you exited the car, feet dragging you all the way to the door, knowing that you needed to do this. Inhaling a deep breath, you rang the bell, even the tune sounded the same, and the guilt inside of you started rising up again.

“Will you get that?” Nancy’s screaming voice could be barely heard from your side of the door, and your eyes immediately pressed shut together.

Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don't let it be Eddie—

When the door swung open, the eyes that met yours blinked quickly, not knowing whether they were imagining it or not.

Your blinking eyes were quick to open widely as well, and a sigh of relief left your chest.

It wasn’t Eddie.

But it still wasn’t any better. Your face was quick to feel hot as your gaze met hers, and you felt ashamed. Not knowing what to say, you murmured a simple “Hey.”

Max stood in front of you with an unreadable expression, and you were afraid. For the first time, you were afraid of her.

Was she going to slam the door in your face? Was she just going to ignore you? 

You bit your lip out of nervousness at the silence, and just as you were about to open your mouth again, Max squealed—which you had never, ever heard her do before—as she wrapped her arms around you in a jump-like hug.

Your breath got caught in your lungs, and a hearty giggle escaped your plump lips as you embraced it, melting into the hug. 

“I can’t believe it.” She squealed, pulling away from the hug to see your face fully again, her eyes almost prickling with tears.

Jesus. She had grown up so fast.

Her face that fell around your shoulders felt weird now that she was so much taller and much closer to you in height. She looked different, and you couldn’t decide whether to feel ashamed or guilty about it.

Your eyes widened, almost in shock, you never expected to be perceived in any way positively, especially by Max. And she could sense that shock on your face, with the way your mouth visibly stood agape. 

“You-uh… you’re not mad?” You implored, eyes almost widening with the need to know. 

Her eyes softened, and the sorrows in your heart were quick to dissipate with it, she shook her head lightly, almost in an all-knowing way.  “Uhm- I-I know what happened.” She almost whispered, gaze falling toward the kitchen, implying that Nancy had already babbled about the day you left. 

Damn you, Nancy Wheeler. 

Your head popped up toward the kitchen, where Nancy was, as if you were going to run up to her, your cheeks fluttered with embarrassment, you never wanted Max to find out. 

“Don’t… please don’t be mad at her.” She turned your attention back to her with a gentle touch on your arm, easing your tense body with just one touch. 

“If she didn’t tell me what happened… I don’t think I’d even talk to you, Pinky.” She admitted shyly, your gaze on her still widening. 

“Wh-what exactly did she tell you?” You asked, you weren’t going to get mad at Nancy, you knew she didn’t have any malicious intentions, you just never wanted Max to know what her step-brother did. At least not until she was much older. Your brain almost short-circuited as you looked at her once again. She was already much older; you knew Nancy made the right call.

“Not much!” Max blurted quickly, maybe to ease your worries; maybe it was the truth. 

“Just that- uh-that… Billy did something horrible, and that you and Eddie left and then uh… the two of you went to.. uh—Chicago?” She stuttered, head hanging low before she looked back at you, trying to read your expressions.

“California,” You muttered.  “Uh-Los Angeles, to be exact.” You breathed, correcting her. Did she know more? Did she also know that you left Eddie after that, too? Did she know that you had been carrying the guilt of leaving Eddie, her and those four little idiots too? The only ones you didn’t have any contact with in the last five years?

“Is that… is that where you are now?” Her brows pinched together; she knew where you were—New York, Nancy had told her. But she just wanted to hear more from you, and you could sense it. 

You shook your head. “New York.” Your lips pursed together, and she gave you a slight nod as if to ask if there was anything else going on in your life, you caught it immediately. “My cousin helped me get this apartment, and she, uh, has this record shop there.” Max gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“And, uh, it has like a tattoo shop behind it—records by day and tattoos by night.” You revealed more, awkwardly, your stupid joke made you want to hit your head against the perfectly white marbled walls of the Wheeler’s. “I’m actually training to become a tattoo artist now,” You said with your gaze stuck on how much she had grown now, almost feeling embarrassed for some reason before Max’s gasp turned your attention back to her.

“No way.”

“Dude, you’re still so fucking cool.” She nudged your shoulder, and your face instantly lit up. All the worries in your head disappeared, giddiness replacing it when you realized Max still saw you as her cool older sister.

“You think so?” You teased, giving her a light-hearted chuckle, “Uh… yeah? Dude, you work at a record store that has a tattoo shop in the back… you invented cool at this point.” She encouraged, surprise and fascination washing over her face.

“If Mad Max says so” You teased, muffling her hair and earning whines from her. 

And you hated that it took you back to five years ago. Every stupid fucking thing you saw or did in this town made you take a trip down memory lane, but it was the worst with Max, because almost every memory with her had your head wandering off to the certain redhead’s step-brother. A chill ran down your spine at the idea of him even being back in town. But there was no fucking way, right? 

You had heard from Nancy that the Mayfield-Hargrove’s had moved out and returned to California by the time Max started going to college—somewhere far away from them. However, she and the other kids always returned to Hawkins in the summer. You assumed she wanted to reunite with her friends and that she was trying to avoid the step-fuckers—a nickname Max herself gave both Billy and Neil Hargrove.

“He-uh… He doesn’t know about the wedding, right? Or he isn’t… he isn’t back in town? Is he?” You stuttered eerily; you knew Nancy would never invite him, but you still wanted to make sure that he didn’t know about it or that he wouldn’t know you were back in town.

“No—god, no.” Max shook her head quickly. “He’s in California with the ‘parents’.” She scoffed. “He has no fucking clue.” She added.

And you nodded simply; one of your worries was now at ease.

“What about…” You trailed off, pretending to sound nonchalant about wanting to ask about Eddie, you were anything but as you fiddled with your fingers.

Max picked up on it immediately. “Eddie?” she asked almost smugly, making you nod quickly—too quickly to appear nonchalant.

“Oh!” She grinned, making your cheeks feel hot.

Damn it. How did he still have this effect on you without even being present?

“He came like an hour ago. The last I saw him he was arguing with Dustin about their nerdy game.” She rolled her eyes slightly. 

“Oh, uhm, that’s—that’s good…” You said unsurely, you knew he was here, because of his stupid van that was parked outside just behind your car, but what the fuck were you even going to do when you did eventually see him. 

Would you pretend like nothing happened?

Would he pretend like nothing happened?

How the fuck were you supposed to do that when your feelings for him were still all over the place? You already felt dumb for not managing to get over him in the last five years, it just seemed impossible considering how things were left off.

You cleared your throat, turning your attention to Max. You didn’t need Eddie to cloud your mind right now, the guilt of abandoning Max still filled your stomach.

“Max…” You caught her attention softly, and almost as if she knew you were going to bring up the subject, a pout overtook her features. 

“I—I’m sorry…” You started, voice shaky. “I fucked up, I should have let you know... A message, a call, a note… Jesus—anything.” Your voice was meek, causing you to gulp.

“I should have done something, I—Fuck… I don’t know what to say, just that I’m really sorry.” You were stumbling over your own words when your vision got blurry, eyes glossy as you looked up at her.

“Pinky…” She muttered comfortingly, you didn’t expect this kindness from her that you thought you were unworthy of. You had left her without anything, and she still greeted you with open arms.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe people could forgive you, maybe they could forget. Maybe Eddie would laugh it off. 

“I know that…” She offered a sympathetic gaze. “I knew deep down that you would never leave without a goodbye if it wasn’t important.” She gulped, physically, that familiar lump in her throat returned with the emotional weight her words held. 

“I’m not a kid anymore.” Max gave you a small smile. “I know how hard that must’ve been for you, okay?” Her hands were quick to take yours into hers, fingers gently soothing you. “I don’t blame you. So don’t fucking blame yourself… I know how you get.” Her hands stood on your shoulder now, shaking you lightly in the guise of making you feel better. 

A poor smile appeared on your lips, Max possibly didn't realize how much her words mattered to you, how you needed to relieve yourself of the guilt. One gesture from her almost enough to heal the wound that coming back to Hawkins split open deep inside of you. 

“Oh my god!” Nancy’s shriek caused you to turn around. 

“Pinky, finally!” Her voice beamed, and before you even got a chance to say anything, she engulfed you in a hug.

 “I was about to lose it,” She whispered into the hug before her eyes widened at you and Max.

“Shit…” She muttered, knowing Max had probably already told you that she blabbed about your disappearance.

“I was going to mention that…” She tilted her head adorably, a shy smile adorning her lips as you brushed it off with a laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, Nance.” You waved your hands in dismissal. “I can’t be pissed at you for anything… at least for the next five days…” You hummed. 

“You better use your wedding privileges wisely.” You said, throwing her a wink, as you pulled away from the hug. 

Your hands rubbed together quickly. “So... uh–where’s everyone?” You stammered, you were mostly asking about Eddie, but you also wanted to know where the hell Steve and Robin were. You missed those two idiots who were attached at the hip. They could calm you down better than anyone.

“The other kiddos are only going to be able to make it to the rehearsal dinner and the actual wedding.” She pouted, knowing that she planned a five day full of activities for all the people closest to her and Jonathan, but Mike, Lucas, El and Will were all going to miss it. 

She huffed. “And uhhh… Steve and Robin are coming later tonight.” 

“You remember we got that brunch thing at Steve’s tomorrow, right?” She asked, eyes squinting with doubt, before her arms crossed against her chest. 

You almost groaned, head falling back. Fucking Steve and his stupid brunch plan. 

“How could I forget?” You said through pressed lips, trying your best to seem enthusiastic, it wasn’t that you had a problem with it—it was because you were nervous, so fucking nervous to be in the same close proximity of Eddie again.

“And Jonathan should be...” She eyed the backyard. “Yup, in the backyard with the band. I left all the band planning to him.” She shrugged, making your eyebrows quirk. 

Shit. She really did fucking love Jonathan, didn’t she? She would’ve never let anyone meddle with her own plans otherwise. 

“Uhh–Dustin and… the others–” Her voice slightly cracked, and you instantly knew she was talking about Eddie. 

“They’re-uh they’re just in the basement… uh—getting something I needed.” She nervously scratched her head. “I’m sure they’ll—uh… say hi when they can.” She gave you a nervous smile, eyeing Max before turning her attention to you.

And just like clockwork, just as Nancy started to babble more about the plans she had for the five days you were supposed to be in Hawkins, her words were quickly interrupted by the loud voice of Dustin, “Shut up!”

“Shut the fuck up!” He exclaimed excitedly as you gave him a slight giggle.

“I wasn’t talking,” You joked, and before you could get another word out, Dustin squeezed you in a tight hug, causing more giggles and excited squeaks to escape your lips.

“Looks like somebody missed me, huh?” You raised a brow.

“What have you been up to, Dustybun?” You asked with a sly smirk, causing Dustin to cringe at the nickname.

“Me? Jesus, you’ve been gone for five years, and you’re asking what I’ve been up to?” You shrugged.

“Where the fuck have you been?” You couldn’t pinpoint if it was genuine curiosity or a slight anger lingering in his tone.

“New York,” Max spoke before you, the attention in the room shifting towards her. 

“She’s a tattoo artist now.” She exclaimed excitedly, causing Dustin’s eyes to widen.

“You?” He questioned, causing Nancy to join in and nod in excitement.

“No fucking way!”

“Well, I’m not exactly—”

“Dude, that’s so fucking cool!” Dustin gushed, interrupting you.

“Man, I knew those sketches were too cool to let them go to waste on Eddie’s bedroom walls,” He snorted, but your brows quipped, his bedroom walls? Did he still keep those? 

“You have to tattoo me,” He raved, interrupting your thoughts as you stared at him in disbelief.

“No way, do you want Miss Henderson to kill me?” You huffed, crossing your arms against your chest.

“Oh, come on, just one little favor?” He pouted.

“Nuh-uh! The last time you asked me for a favor, she chided me for months, months!” You emphasized, “She even left me one too many voicemails scolding me!” Dustin sighed.

 “How about something not-too-big? Like the bat one you did for Eddie, it looks so fucking—”

“You talkin’ bout me, Henderson?” A voice rang from the basement, and the slight sound of his footsteps dragging closer and closer toward the two of you caused you to stop dead in your tracks. You always knew Dustin was too loud for his own good.

You gulped, physically, and that lump in your throat reclaimed its place, his voice caused further suffocation in your throat, not being able to breathe when you could recognize that husky tone anywhere.

But it felt different.

Something about him felt different.

Your brain was struggling to comprehend a thought, your mouth had dried up, and it was getting harder to breathe.

“Dude... you could not rock a tattoo like me, no matter how fuckin' hard you—” And there was a pause, a small hitch in Eddie’s breath, as he finally realized who Dustin was talking to. And you could feel that hesitation, that uncomfortable tension filling the room that was once comfortable.

“Pinky?” You could recognize him just by his footstep alone, but now you’re sure it’s him, the nickname still rolling off his tongue so easily and sugary, like you had never left, like everything was okay again.

You’re slow to turn to face him, heart pounding with worry before you fully take him in, trying to decide his facial expressions, waiting for the anger, disappointment, shame, and fury.

You cannot place what his gaze holds, but you have missed the small glimmer in his eyes, the same one he always had when he saw you, so promising, so mellow that you feel your heart tightening.

You take him in now more than ever, his cheekbones are hollow and his face is more defined. He has so much more muscle on him, and it makes you question how long he has been working out.

His hair still lays messily on his forehead, bangs framing his face perfectly. Black jeans paired with a band-tee, and not just any band-tee, a Corroded Coffin shirt that unintentionally has you smiling. His dark brown eyes are mesmerizing as ever, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to accept the sight in front of him. Trying to make sure that he isn’t hallucinating, that you are actually here.

He looks good, so good that you can feel your mouth dry up, words getting stuck in your throat, the guitar pick necklace adorning his neck makes you want to pull him closer toward you.

You study him more than you should; those deep brown eyes are staring at you like a deer in headlights.

When he takes a step closer, gaze still locked to yours, you feel as if your souls have made a bridge, one you weren’t sure if you would be able to mend.

Close. He’s very close, but still, not close enough, not to your liking anyway. You want to be close enough to take him in wholly; you want him to engulf you in his arms, protecting you from all that’s bad in the world, feeling every ounce of him. The one person you had been yearning for was standing a foot away from you, and it was truly painful.

“You came,” Was all that left his plump lips, his gaze was still soft. He was as nervous as you are, something that you didn’t manage to pick up on. 

If only he knew why you had to abandon him, maybe he would understand… Maybe he would even rid you of your guilt.

“Y-yeah, I did,” You stuttered.

“Max, Dustin!” Nancy announced. “Why don’t you two help me in the back?” Nancy threw a look that both of them understood immediately, running off after her without another word exchanged.

The incessant throb in Eddie’s heart returned when his attention turned back to you, he knew you would come, but he didn’t know how much that would crush him.

That rage in him, bubbling up at the surface, subsided quickly when you gave him that gentle look. “What’s Dustin yapping about?” He asked with a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood and ease his own worries.

“Oh— uhm… just that he wanted me to tattoo him,” You couldn’t help the nervous crack in your voice.

“You? Oh my god, you finally did it?” 

“Well… not exactly.” You gave him an awkward chuckle. “I’m training to be one, though.” You shrugged. 

“You know I’m a happy customer of yours.” He gave you a smile before he flashed his forearm, showing you the bat tattoo that you gave him five years ago.

He had much more tattoos now, but the bat tattoo you gave him still stood out among the thousand others on his forearm, at least it did to you. “Oh!” He breathed, attention diverting to something else as his hands fiddled behind him. He dug them in his back pocket, he struggled to get something it out. “Aha!” He exclaimed, waving the worn out notebook in front of your curious gaze. “But I’m definitely not giving you the ‘Promise’ notebook back!” 

Your pupils dilated at the sight; he still had it. He still had the notebook that your stupid sketches were sprawled all over. You gave it to him sometime during senior year, when he was having some trouble with his songwriting process. Your parents got you that notebook as a joke as soon as they saw the handwritten ‘Promise’ on the front, a silly play on your nickname. And you wanted him to have it; you wanted it to inspire him as much as it did you; your art mattered, and you wanted him to see that, so did his. 

“You… you still have that?” You asked, an astonished look still not leaving your features. “Yeah, it really played a key role on our first album.” He beamed. A crimson red blush was quick to wash over his cheeks; he wasn’t sure if he should’ve told you that or let you in this quickly when you left him on a whim in LA. 

“But… that’s— that’s still so fucking cool, Pinky,” His eyes widened, he shook off his thoughts in a flash. He had missed you, so fucking much—more than he let you on.

“So I’ve been told.” You meant to sound nonchalant. 

“What have you been up to?” You asked as if you didn’t know, as if you didn’t try to gather some information about him from Nancy and Jonathan. As if you didn’t listen to their album the second it came to your record shop.

“Just making some music, here and there.”

It was a lie.

He knew it was a lie, and you knew it was a lie.

Eddie made it big after the last time you saw him, signing onto the biggest record label and releasing an album that became way bigger than even his group had intended to.

“You don’t have to be so humble, I know how big you guys have made it.” You offer him a slight smile.

“Maybe a little bit.” He gestures with his hands, causing you to giggle. “Even had a gig here last week, the crowd was crazy.”

“It’s funny, though.” He murmured, causing you to raise your brows. “All the fuckin’ people at Hawkins who called me a freak and tried to shun me out was screaming my name... pretty weird fuckin’ feeling, huh?” He shrugged.

“I guess I know how the popular princess feels now,” He teased.

You nudged him slightly, “Guess you’re the popular boy of Hawkins now, huh?” He gave you a slight smile, and it felt comfortable, he was so easy to be with.

“Yeah, Jonathan worked really hard to get us for this wedding thing, you know?” He joked, giving a slight smirk.

“You and Jonathan, huh?”

“I don’t even know how you guys became best friends.” You added, wanting to joke.

“Yeah, I guess a lot happens when you don’t abandon people.” Ouch. You guessed you had deserved that one, but it still hurt to see him think of you this way, the entire atmosphere of the room had shifted, the casual conversation you had wasn’t as genuine as you thought it was, and you could see that he was hurt.

You knew he would be angry, but this seeming grudge wasn’t what you were hoping for. Maybe it was selfish of you, but you wanted him to miss you, tell you that he wanted to be with you, engulfing you in his arms as he spun you around, muttering how much he loved you.

But that wasn’t realistic, was it?

You gulped, feeling awkward, and now it was Eddie’s turn to feel bad. He internally cringed as he saw the look on your face, he knew that look so well. The way you played with your hair for some sort of comfort, he could sense that the guilt was eating away at you.

“I— I guess I deserved that.” You forced a smile, chuckling ironically, sensing the visible shift in Eddie’s face, the initial shock of reuniting with you wearing off, and his anger and hurt taking over. 

The tension that lingered in the air was interrupted by Jonathan swinging open the sliding door in the backyard and the four people standing behind him.

Before you could comprehend who they were, a squealing voice caused you to turn around, and a blonde-haired woman brushed past you. “Eds!” She called out, walking toward Eddie.

You looked up to see Jonathan leading Gareth, Jeff, and Frank to the backyard, telling them something about their gig, but you could care less as you stood still in your place, eyes glued on how Eddie greeted the girl, focus shifting solely on her as his hands caressed her shoulders, comforting her, as if you weren’t there, as if he didn’t care.

That screeching voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t tell who the hell she was supposed to be when all you could see was her back and Eddie’s hands ghosting over her waist.

You were starting to feel small, trapped in your own body, with nowhere to go. Why was she hugging Eddie? Why were they so fucking close?

When she finally turned around, tucking her straight blonde hair behind her ears, glimmering blue eyes met yours, and you immediately realized who it was.

Chrissy.

The same Chrissy that was your supposed friend in high school, the same Chrissy who suddenly turned on you and made your life a living hell in senior year.

That’s why you didn’t recognize her—the strawberry blonde color she had was now more vanilla, and you hated to admit that she looked pretty—too fucking pretty.

Your eyes were narrowed with distaste; you had no right to be jealous, but you were powerless against that ugly emotion when it came to Eddie, swelling your chest way quicker than you intended to and stinging you harder as you struggled to keep a forced smile on your lips. 

Huffing, your mind drifted to Eddie. Surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with her, you decided. He knew some of the horrible things she did to you during your senior year, so there was no fucking way he would want anything to do with her.

Right?

“Oh my god, Pinky!” She squealed once again when she saw you, and you wanted to chuckle bitterly. With your tongue rolling inside your cheek, you tried to keep your damn mouth shut. She didn’t get to call you that nickname. Not when she did all of that during your senior year.

You didn’t return the hug she forced you into, eyes drifting to Eddie who was now avoiding your gaze. Lips pursed shut as he twisted his rings. Something weird was going on, and your stomach churned at the thought.

When Chrissy’s forced embrace on you ended, you barely forced a smile, and with a dead look on your face, you waited for her to disappear.

Why was she even here?

Who even invited her?

Running up to Nancy and asking her what the fuck she was thinking inviting her here would’ve been an exaggeration, you realized.

As envious thoughts sank further and further into your head, you realized something was wrong now. The way Chrissy leaned in to whisper something in Eddie's ear, giggling as she threw her head back.  

It meant something. It was like a sick feeling of deja-vu. A sinking feeling twisted your stomach, and a pang of insecurity gnawed at it. Your jaw clenched involuntarily; Eddie didn't even spare a glance in your direction. His attention was fully on her, and a wave of rage surged within you, threatening to overflow. The need to separate them, to pull her away from him, was almost unbearable.

Still, you knew you couldn’t do anything, and that was what made your blood boil, Eddie was nothing to you, he wasn’t even a friend to you—at least not anymore, something that you made sure of five years ago.

And before you could say or do anything more,

Chrissy smashed her lips against Eddie’s.

[sethsclearwater]

hi! would u write a fluff with Paul and pregnant reader where he is really happy about it and goes around telling everybody (the elders, Sam and Emily) that they're having a baby at every opportunity he has and everybody is so proud of him. Just some tooth rotting fluff

i love him🥺🥺

...

"isn't she just the prettiest thing you've ever seen?" paul asked jared and sam, happily holding the ultrasound picture he'd insisted you get printed out at your most recent doctor's appointment.

jared laughed, "paul you literally can't even see anyth-" he started, but was quickly cut off when sam smacked him upside the head, eliciting a loud groan from the male.

"she's adorable paul," sam smiled, "they said everything is okay with both of them?" he asked as he leaned up against the counter of his and emily's kitchen, his question referring to you and the baby.

paul nodded, coming to stand behind you at the kitchen island, setting down the ultrasound picture so he could slide his hands over your shoulders to gently rub them, "all good," he reassured, "right princess?" he asked you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

you giggled and nodded, sliding your hands over your protruding bump, "all is well with the lahote girls," you teased, squealing as paul leaned down to pepper your cheeks with kisses, "paul-" you laughed, rolling your eyes as he slid his hands down your sides so he could also rest his hands atop your bump.

jared rolled his eyes, going to grab one of the muffins from the plate emily had set down just before running upstairs to check on hers and sam's sleeping toddler. sure enough, emily appeared a few moments later. she was quick to spot the sonogram, immediately stepping over to the two of you to pick it up, "oh my god is this her?" she squealed, beaming at the two of you when you and paul both nodded, paul momentarily stopping his kisses to nod.

"oh she's the cutest!" emily exclaimed, spinning around to face her husband who let out a breathy chuckle and nodded, "we need to have another one," she said, all of you letting out laughs at her comment.

"maybe after olly gets out of this sleep regression phase," sam offered, chuckling when emily nodded, setting the sonogram back down on the island so she could wrap her arms around sam's waist, hugging him tightly.

paul pressed one final kiss to the crown of your head before he was reaching down to grab the sonogram from the table again, "we should send this to billy and old quil, right?" he asked as he grabbed his phone, smiling when you nodded and giggled.

"do you wanna send it? you can totally send it-" he started, quickly realizing you might want to be the one to show everyone the sonogram picture but you were quick to shut down his worries by pressing a quick kiss to his bicep.

"you can send it," you reassured, smiling up at him as he nodded, quickly snapping a picture of your sonogram before he was texting it to old quil (who you were, quite frankly, surprised he knew how to text at all) and billy.

"you two are the cutest," emily mused as she got out of sam's arms to step over to the fridge so she could figure out what to make for dinner, "did you sign up for those birthing classes i sent over to you?" she asked, pulling out some chicken and flour, looking like she was going to be making breaded chicken or something similar for dinner.

you nodded, "just figured it out last night actually," you giggled, "you saved us so much time with that," you added, smiling gratefully over at emily who nodded, smiling back at you.

"they start next wednesday," paul added and sam nodded, both him and emily happy to know the two of you used their recommendation for the birthing class they had used.

"you're gonna love it y/n, they're so helpful and can definitely answer more of your questions than i can," emily explained and you let out another laugh as her comment, both of you well aware of just how many questions you'd texted her throughout your pregnancy so far.

you went to respond to her but were cut off when you felt a soft flutter in your belly from your baby, causing you to let out a soft gasp as you ran your hands down to where you just felt the kick, "paul come here," you said even though he was still standing right behind you, quickly taking his hand and pressing it down where the baby just kicked.

"what-" he started, quickly stopping himself when he realized what you were trying to show him when he felt another familiar kick under his hand, "oh princess," paul murmured, "'s not hurting you, right?" he asked softly and you shook your head, leaning back into his chest as paul ran his hands over your belly, loving knowing your baby was able to somewhat interact with him even from in your belly.

"she's kicking?" sam asked, chuckling when paul nodded.

"oh that is so weird-" jared started teasingly, letting out a loud laugh when paul whipped around to glare at him. you giggled, already knowing paul was going to make him regret saying that.

[billskeis]

can you do smut with 2014 or 2015 Bill

ᡣ��� bill's faux fur coat

bill and the rest of tokio hotel were filming a new music video, they were back for a new era and you were for sure they were gonna kill it! the five of you were chilling in the dressing room, prepping and looking for outfits to wear at the shooting.

“how’s this jacket meine liebe?” bill asks.

bill pulls out a long faux fur coat, the pattern on it adorned that of a cheetah. or maybe a snow leopard? who knows. your eyes widened at how amazing such a piece was on its own.

over the course of the years you and bill have been together, his style has changed quite a bit, more frequently.

bill has been able to explore a more ambiguous type of wear that he’s always dreamt of, since society is now more open and welcoming in comparison to the past.

“i love it!” you exclaim clapping your hands together, bill does a twirl for you as you giggle admiring your boyfriend, “touch the jacket y/n! it’s soo soft,” “oh wow, it feels almost real,” “you know i would NEVER get real fur though,” “i know i know, you’re such a sweetie bill,” “you know i am,” bill smirks at you.

while going into the shoot, your eyes were glued onto bill. who while wearing the jacket, wore nothing underneath it. pants, obviously, but he has no top on.

this reveals the multiple tattoos he curated over the years, your personal favourite was his chest piece, he got that tattoo twinning with tom whose tattoo was the same above his elbow.

not only did it show his tattoos, but his one nipple piercing that you swore you hated but it seemed to have grown on you.

not to mention, bill wore low rise jeans that revealed a section of his happy trail, which, bitch..

had you drooling.

“i want it,” you said out of the blue, “h-huh?” one of the managers replied to your strange comment, “the jacket. i want it after the shoot, can i have it?” you plead looking straight into the stylist’s eyes who dart a confused look at the manager, “i don’t see why not, we won’t need it after this,” you smile brightly at this, “oh thankyouthankyou!!”

bill came running backstage after the filming was finished and brought you into a hug off your feet, spinning you around, “babybaby how was i!?” “just perfect bill! but take this jacket off—i’m going home by the way,”

bill pouts as he begins removing the clothing garment, handing it to you. you put the jacket on immediately and snuggle into it.

“so soon?” he questions giving you his puppy dog eyes, you usually couldn’t resist but it was for his own good, “uhhh yeah! i gotta’ start dinner, see you?” “awww okay baby but i expect my favourite!” he places a kiss on your cheek as he walks away for another outfit change.

it’ll be his favourite alright.

8:36pm

filming done schatzi! coming home rn

8:37pm

okkk :)

8:45pm

u don’t sound 2 happy D:

8:51pm

nonsense billy! just cookin.. come home quicker ;)

9:01pm

omw asap &lt;3

the sound of keys turning can be heard through the apartment hallway of which you shared with bill. as the door turned open bill closed it behind him and turned to where his eyes met something, or rather someone filling the usually empty hallway.

there you stood, in the jacket. in the jacket that he wore during the shoot. what was under the jacket?

nothing, the only thing you wore was your panties, each jacket flap covering both your tits, only middle cleavage showing.

“y-y/n! what’re you doing baby someone could see you..” you giggle as bill ushers you further away from the front door despite it already being closed.

his attempts to close the jacket in front of you proves useless as you pry his hands and arms away from your body, twirling in all your glory as the jacket flies from the gust of wind you create exposing your body momentarily.

“meine liebe.. you’re driving me nuts.. what’s for dinner?”

“me.”

“s’much bill! you’re being too rough!” “yea? well, you’re being such a fucking brat.. s’not what you wanted?? didn’t wanna be under me and have this pussy fucked??” bill pistons his hips into yours, abdomen constantly teasing your clit every time he brought his body closer to yours.

it’s the second time you came. before this, he played and teased with your tits, nipples puffy, definitely way more sensitive than before and heavy dark hickeys left all over the surface area.

bringing his lips to yours, bill kisses you deeply. the kiss was filled with sex, he’s rough and not sweet, sucking on your bottom lip which was for sure going to be a little swollen after. you run your tongue over his two lip piercings and he scoffs.

“still wanna continue your antiques huh?” bill lifts up one of your legs for better leverage and fucks closer to your cervix, “o-oww.. bill,” “oh please, i warned you beforehand but you want things your way. such a whore for me huh..”

he drags his length in and out of your cunt, nice and slow, but his thrusts are hard, and unexpected. still keeping a rhythm, he thrusts, edging himself slightly so he can pump you with more of his load.

“gonna come, come with me baby..” he now brings his other hand to leave circles on your clit while his latter still straddles your leg, “oh fuuuck bill!”

you convulse as electricity pulses through your body, third time coming. the pressure being too much as your squirt sprays a bit of bill’s pelvis while he fucks you through your orgasm, “shit!”

feeling how you clench around bill, he can’t help but come right after you, fucking his cum deep into you as it shoots within your cervix.

he takes himself out of you and watches how his cum ribbons out your cunt, giving it a little slap, “a-ah!” “get up schatzi, not done with you..”

with the little strength you have left in your body, you sat upright against the headboard. bill, a little higher than you inches his hips closed to your mouth, dick still stiff.

he uses his hand to guide the tip of his head to your mouth, rubbing it side to side on your bottom lip, “open,” he demands and you widen your mouth cavity to welcome in his length.

he glides his dick in and out your throat, mouth agape to let out such whorish moans. you mentally question whether it’s you the whore or bill.

you ensure your tongue remains still against the bottom of your mouth to lick clean bill’s shaft. tasting bitter, you take in a mixture of your’s and bill’s cum.

“fuck y/n.. you do so well f’me, love you so much, stick your tongue out more yea?” and that you do, as he places his tip onto your tongue, you jerk the rest of his shaft to a rhythm he particularly likes.

as you can feel him shake and see his hips jerk slightly under your touch, bill can’t help but moan “u-ugh fuck, coming..!” whimpering, bill shoots ropes of come onto your tongue, thick, and surprisingly a lot.

riding out his high, he finishes, breathing heavy. you close your mouth to ingest all of bill, sticking out your tongue to your boyfriend who smiles down at you proudly. he brings himself a little bit lower to wipe the sweat off your forehead and gives you a quick peck.

“thank you baby, so proud of you,” “mm, now what’re we going to do about the jacket..?” you both look at each other and the state of how the jacket was left in.

matted, dirty, definitely stained or soaking in.. well god knows what, you guys only had it for one day yet it was already fucking ruined.

“let’s see what time dry-cleaning opens tomorrow.”

[thelovelylolly]

Hey! Love your billy fics I have so many ideas but for now I'll go off the valentines prompt list! Can I get a billy x reader with the prompts 24. "I don’t like them, I like you." and 25."it's always been you."

Make A Move

Summary: Billy only has eyes for you Warnings: like a smidge of self doubt, reader is described as shorter than Billy, teenagers partying and a lil mention of alcohol, not proofread bc im super busy srry Word Count: 811 Notes: thank u so much for this request, I’m so happy u enjoy my Billy fics <3 sorry I didn’t get this out super fast, my power went out so I didn’t get the chance to write as much as I wanted to <3

You weren't much of a party goer, but if Billy went, so did you. You two were good friends and you may have developed some feelings for him. Usually, you would keep to yourself at parties, picking a corner to stand in with a drink in hand. But with Billy? You were by his side, smiling and laughing with everyone else.

One of Billy's buddies was throwing a party and you tagged along with him. You didn't mind being an observer as Billy moved from group to group, talking and laughing. You were just happy to be with Billy, even if you just stayed by his side and let him do the talking.

Your drink was running low, so you tugged on Billy's sleeve and he leaned his head closer in order to hear you over all the noise.

"'M going to get another drink. You want anything?" You asked.

"I'm good, thanks, babe," he replied before jumping right back into his conversation.

That was another thing. He called you things like 'babe' or 'sweetheart', blurring the lines between friends and more. You couldn't tell if he had feelings like you, or if he was just comfortable as friends.

You gave the group a quick smile before turning and going towards to the kitchen. You slipped your way through the crowd of half-drunk teenagers. You found the kitchen and quickly refilled your cup with your drink of choice, careful not to bump into the random couple who totally weren't making out.

You left the kitchen to go back to Billy, taking a refreshing sip of your drink. You could spot him through the crowd, those golden curls and blue eyes being hard to miss. But you nearly dropped your cup when you saw a girl pulling at his jacket while he smiled down at her.

Were you jealous? Maybe, but you weren't going to admit it to yourself in that moment. You caught Billy's eye from across the room and his smile dropped. You watched as he pushed the girl away but you were making your way to the door before he could try to get to you.

You knew Billy was a flirt, you had watched a bunch of girls try to win him over, so why were you so upset at this? Because you love him, you thought before quickly pushing it away. You made your way out into the yard, the cool night air more refreshing then the crowded indoors. You tossed your cup into a bush, the drink splashing onto the ground.

You heard Billy's boots hitting the concrete as he raced to catch up with you.

"Hey, where are you going?" He asked, grabbing your arm to stop you.

"I'm going home," you answered, trying to pull yourself away from him but he wouldn't let you go.

"What's wrong? What's going on?"

"Nothing's wrong!" You yelled, spinning around to face him. "Now, go back to the party. I don't want to keep you from all the girls in there."

Billy stared at you for a second, then smiled. "What?" He asked, almost laughing.

"I saw that girl in there, and I've seen girls trying to get with you," you answered. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, sweetheart. I don't like them, I like you. It's always been you," he said, stepping closer and slowly closely the space between you two.

"You...what?" You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I like you, hell, I may love you at this point," he replied, matching your volume as he tilted your face up with his fingers. "I was waiting for you to make a move."

You smiled, your face heating from his touch, words and gaze. "I was waiting for you to make a move."

You saw his eyes fall to your lips and before you could fully process it, his lips were on yours. It took a second, but you quickly melted and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He moved the hand that tilted your chin up to your cheek, cupping it while his other hand fell to your waist. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears rather than the loud music from inside.

For those few moments, it was just you and Billy.

Then, he pulled away and you were pulled back into reality. Both of his hands cupped your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours. You covered his hands with yours as you smiled at him, a smile which he returned.

"Is that enough of a move for you?" He asked.

You giggled. "I may need one more kiss, just to be sure."

Billy started to pepper your face in quick kisses, causing your giggles to erupt into laughter.

And just like that, it was just you and Billy again, and you wouldn't trade it for a stupid party.

[whyareyouhere66]

Omg cool I have an angsty request 😈(if you’re comfortable writing it<3)

Kind of Tom!Peter Parker x Male!Stark!reader x Tony Stark(platonic obviously) ??

Reader has a rocky relationship with his dad Tony, just wants his attention, to be seen by Tony etc. but once Peter joins and takes Tonys full attention reader just automatically hates him for ‘stealing his dad from him’. As time goes on reader just gets more hateful and jealous of Peter, maybe getting into fights with Peter on purpose. Suddenly there’s a new villain/anti-hero (??) that’s been interfering with there plans or just wrecking havoc to go after Peter. Plot twist when they finally catch them/they’re too hurt to keep fighting, it’s revealed as reader. You can make it as angsty as u want!

(A.K.A. Reader is Loki, Peter is Thor and Tony is Odin lol)

 AHH THIS

I love this trope-

So glad you requested this, (and thank you for checking stuff first) and enjoy

Also note that I’m not too fresh on the marvel timeline, if you notice anything that doesn’t exactly align with the movie than I’m sorry just brush past it- this also might be the longest fic I’ve ever written so 

Implied to be set around the start of Peter’s Spider-Man stuff. 

x

Look What You Made Me Do

Male Stark Reader x Avengers

“If I loved you, was a promise….

Would you break it, if you’re honest?” 

[idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eillish, 2017]

Cw: violence/fighting, Tony being a bad dad, slightest mentions of drinking, angst Kind of jumping straight into it too- 

I’ll fix a few things later I’m tired I want this one to be out and about

X

If you were to ask anyone about the wealthiest men in modern day New York, it’s inevitable for Tony Stark to appear somewhere on that list.

He’s rich, handsome, a superhero. New  York’s knight in shining armor. 

Most believe his life is a dream, somehow oblivious to the fact that maybe a superhero doesn’t live life in the dream house. But when he’s made his brand through money, fancy houses, big parties, and shiny military weapons it’s easy for people to see no further than surface level.

That isn’t the case for his son, though. 

From a wealth aspect of it- the young Stark knows how grateful he is, how grateful he should be, for his father.

If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be currently sitting in this large bedroom, with a view most would pay a couple grand for, wouldn’t be surrounded by the various expensive objects linked to his little interests. It doesn’t even matter how much Y/n would insist on paying- he never seems to think much of it. Maybe it’s his way of showing affection.

That’s what Y/n hopes, at least. 

Because if not- there’s not much there. Tony Stark has never been much of an affectionate person, some may blame it on his own father. Others would blame it on the business- no time for distractions on a long days work.

But neither of those reasons matter- for all his son ever wanted is for Tony to love him the way he wants him to.

-

Static crackles through Y/n’s small speaker, and quickly the boy perks up. A short glance  over and he finds the old Queen record spinning aimlessly, with the tone arm at the end of its songs.

Pushing himself off the bed, he walks over to the stand where Tony’s old record player sits. Taking the arm off- he flips the record over to side b, before returning it to its place. 

The intro of Queen’s “Hammer to Fall” begins ringing from the speaker, and a small, satisfied smile grows on Y/n’s face.

He hums the beat, nodding his head with it while turning back to his bed- but something catches his eye.

Outside, there’s two figures standing out front. One eyebrow raises, Y/n slowly steps closer to the window. 

“Who-?”

Recognizing his dad, dressed in his best suit, Y/n leans closer. The other figure isn’t quite as tall as Tony, and looks quite obviously nervous. 

Y/n furrows his eyebrows. 

….That’s Peter Parker.

What the hell is he doing at Stark’s house?

***

The sound of a backpack falling to the ground echoes through the foyer- and immediately it’s a sigh of relief. The sweet, sweet air conditioning here is heavenly in contrast to the one at school.

Y/n faintly feels a vibration in his pocket- grabbing it only to see multiple notifications coming from a group chat. 

‘What are they on…’ he wonders, scrolling through countless messages worth of nonsense. He goes to reply, when-

“Y/n!”

His head snaps up at the voice, echoing out from the couch.

‘didn’t realize he was home…’ he looks back at the window, finding his father’s car parked in the driveway. 

“Oh.” 

Deciding the group chat can wait, the teen wanders to where his father sits. 

“What’s up?” Immediately Y/n sees the  scattered papers piling on top of one another on the coffee table, the short crystal glass filled halfway with rum. You’d think he’d wait until at least five, but that’s not the Stark way.

“I found a uh, form on the coffee table,” his voice sounds bored, tired, “something about textbooks for school?”

Y/n notices the forms sitting at the edge farthest from Tony, as if they’d been pushed away as far as they could go. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He says awkwardly, looking at the dirty laces of his shoes, “it’s fine, I got it.” 

“Well I can pay for them, if that’s what you’d like.” The eldest Stark shrugs, finally looking at his son from over the rim of his glasses.

Y/n almost feels embarrassed- when had he asked for that? He shakes his head, though it doesn’t hide the surprised look on his face.

“No, no you don’t have to-“

“Oh please, I got it, education is our future or something, right?” Tony shrugs, taking off his glasses and beginning to stand up from his chair, headed for the black leather wallet he’d left on the dining table. 

Y/n isn’t quite sure why he’s now rushing to step in front of his dad- there isn’t much harm in the gesture after all. Maybe he just doesn’t want the weight of depending on his father for everything to lay on his shoulders. Either way, excuses are already falling from his mouth.

“You really don’t have to, dad-“

“You’re acting like I’m handing you the presidents treasury,” Tony deadpans, “besides, you don’t have a job.”

Y/n pauses. 

“Wha- yes, I do-“ does his dad really not know about his job?

“Look, it doesn’t matter, I can get them used anyways-“

Before he can take one step closer, a nervous voice quips up from the doorway and ends the race for the wallet.

“Um, Mr. Stark?”

Curiously, Y/n and his dad snap their heads to see who has just joined them.

“Peter-?”

Peter Parker stands in the large door way, curled into himself with his backpack strap folded between his fist. His eyes are wide and questioning, looking between his classmate and his idol as if he had walked into the wrong room. 

Suddenly, Tony’s shoulders drop- and he’s no longer interested in any textbook or wallet. 

“Ah, Parker, didn’t think you’d make it.” He says bluntly, strutting away from his son and towards the obviously nervous boy. 

“Here, sit down kid.”

With the man’s hand pressed into his shoulder blade, Peter has no choice but to follow him towards the various seats lining the dining table. And from the side- Y/n watches, absolutely lost.

After he had seen his father and Peter talking, he kept it to himself. Knowing the boy, he had simply assumed Peter was asking for an autograph or a picture, just like half of the city. 

But now, he is in his house. At his table. 

What the hell is this?

“Um,” Y/n’s voice sounds blunt, almost too similar to his father- who’s already sitting down across from Peter with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, as if this was a press conference. 

Peter looks at him first, while his father throws a glance over his shoulder. 

“What’s this?” Y/n asks, pointing to the strange teenage boy sitting down in his seat. Tony tiredly leans back in the chair, twisting to the side just slightly so he could look at Y/n head on. 

“Y/n, this is Peter, Peter, this is Y/n.” 

“Uh, yeah, we know each other.” Peter pipes up, giving Y/n the shortest, most awkward smile it seems he could muster. Y/n’s face stays blank.

“Yeah, I meant what is he doing here?”

Tony doesn’t seem at all phased by the rude undertones of Y/n’s question.

“Peter is gonna work as my intern for a little while, I’m training him.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow. 

“For what-“

“Hey, quit interrupting, will you?” Tony dismisses him with the wave of his hand, turning around so he’s fully facing Peter. And Y/n lingers there, processing. He doesn’t like feeling like a shadow, not in his own home especially, but that’s the feeling that begins to overtake him.

Intern…? 

He tries understanding what that means- there’s many possibilities. Assistant, maybe. But when he looks between his dad and his classmate one last time, seeing that he’s been nearly forgotten in the room (aside from the short glances from Peter’s end) he turns around to retreat, fists clenched. 

His dad has had interns before, Peter likely won’t be much different. Possibly.

***

It’s been 5 weeks.

And multiple times, for each of those weeks, Peter has been somewhere mixed into the tangle of Tony Stark’s extensive schedule, far more entangled than Y/n has been for the past few years.

He shows up to dinner, trains at the Avenger’s tower. He comes knocking on the door randomly asking for life advice, or something- he’s everywhere.

It wasn’t even until week 4 that Y/n discovered the truth behind his sudden presence, when he saw the suit for the first time.

He has his own suit, god can you believe it?

Y/n watches on as Tony seems to easily bring Peter under his wing- hating how he has to avoid the burning green envy that burns his ears. How has Tony managed to take on the father figure role to Peter, when he barely manages that role with his own son?

‘It shouldn’t hurt this bad,’ y/n will think to himself, ‘you’re independent, relying on him will only make it harder in the long run.’

But he couldn’t help the hardened glare that arose every time he saw his dad, his own dad, bonding with someone else the way he had been wanting for what- 16 years?

Even now, sitting at the table, while the teen stares into the bowl of cereal in front of him, it’s just so irking to think about. 

His spoon scrapes the edges of the bowl, gathering the now soggy cheerios into a cluster in its silver dip. Then, they get lost in his mouth. Rinse and repeat- he does it over and over while staring a blazing hole into the wall. 

What is Peter doing that he can’t?

“Mr. Stark-“ 

Speak of the devil. 

Y/n’s grip on the spoon tightens.

Peter comes stumbling into the room, out of breathe as if he sprinted all the way here. He doesn’t even knock anymore, Y/n thinks, he’s made himself at home.

“Kid? What’re you doing here?” 

The nickname sends a shivering twitch through Y/n’s already sore muscles, tugging his face so he can’t control the annoyed look that comes through. 

They’re talking to each other now, Peter trying to tell a story far too quickly for either of them to follow. Y/n blocks their voices out.

His chair scrapes against the floor, and he grabs his bag to leave. 

“I’m going to school.” He says loudly, cutting off their conversation. 

“Oh, I guess I gotta go too-“ 

“No,” Peter freezes, looking at Y/n curiously, “no, no stay here longer why don’t you? Practically your house.” Venom leaks from his words, the sarcasm so loud it makes Peter flinch. 

“Y/n,” Tony groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. Y/n’s stare only hardens.

“What?” He snaps, now looking at his father. 

“Really?” Is all that Tony manages, before Y/n is rolling his eyes and spinning on his heel.

“(F/n) is waiting for me.” He grumbles, snatching his phone and stomping out of the room. 

How does his dad not get it? Is he so blind he can’t even see his own blatant favoritism? 

The look of exhaustion displayed on his face would make you think hes working day and night having to put up with Y/n’s attitude- yet he’s unaware he’s exactly what’s causing it. 

Y/n doesn’t want to blame Peter, in the back of his mind he knows that it’s his dad’s fault. But it feels like his father is being stolen.

But can it really be theft if there wasn’t much of him in the first place?

Y/n knows that he’s picking all the fights, starting all the arguments just so that twisted part of his head gets some satisfaction. 

It shouldn’t be working so well.

.

The young Stark doesn’t return home until it’s just about dark outside, his backpack hanging loosely off his shoulders. 

He walks the long halls of his home, past the doors that could either be a guest bathroom or a weapon closet. Even if there’s more entryways than doors, his father opting for large empty frames, he walks the length of it with no specific destination in mind. 

He isn’t too sure where he’s headed anyways, considering he’s passed the way to his bedroom already.

Through half lidded eyes he guides himself through this maze of a house, bitter jealousy bubbling in his lungs. It’s such a haunting thought, a looming presence, and he wishes he could push it down the drain but it seems that he can’t. 

“Stupid, stupid Peter…” he mumbles, hand grazing the wall beside him. 

Ned’s voice still rings in his ears, breathy from how he had been exercising for most of the class.

“You don’t know what he looks like- what if he’s like seriously burnt?”

“I wouldn’t care, I would still love him for the person he is on the inside.”

Of course it caught their attention- Peter’s little crush on Liz wasn’t hard for most to notice. 

“Peter knows Spider-Man!”

How horrible. 

Across the room, Y/n’s head snapped to where the pair was on the gym floor- Peter’s jaw slacked. It didn’t matter how much he tried to quickly say otherwise- Flash already had slid down the climbing rope with another remark slick on the edge of his tongue.

And Y/n watched on, eye twitching, feeling how his  friends slapped his arm in amusement. 

“I can’t tell if he’s for real or not-“ F/n mumbled from next to him. Y/n’s eyes never tore away from the scene playing out ahead, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah,” and his eyes squeezed shut, “me neither.”

Y/n’s fists curl together, knuckles scraping the wall for a moment before he’s pulling away.

It’s so frustrating. 

He’s walking further down the corridor, eyes sliding open just in time to catch a door left slightly ajar- and he pauses.

He’s passed the door many times, no doubt, but this time it’s different. There’s something pulling him inside, an unknown source that’s too intriguing to walk past.

Slowly, he pushes open the door. And there it is.

Old bins and cabinets with junk gadgets shoved inside- worn blueprints from his fathers old work. One eyebrow raises, cogs turning and grinding in his head.

There’s some things still in tact, some that have been broken apart and scattered about. Y/n kneels down to observe closer. 

He feels the smooth surface of a metal clasp against his fingertips, grazing the jumbled objects. 

This is his answer.

The backpack slides off his shoulders, thumping on the ground beside him. This room is one that his father doesn’t visit much anymore, now much more caught up in other things such as the Avengers, Peter, the scattered piles of paperwork that seem to constantly consume him.

And in the corner, there’s a bend in the wall partially hidden by a cabinet- if you were to tuck something inside, no one could see from the door frame.

Y/n already feels his mind blooming with ideas as he skims over the various parts and pieces in front of him.

If he can’t live up to his fathers standards, his fathers name, 

then he’ll make his own.

***

Multiple nights pass, weeks go by and Y/n finds himself spending the time after dinner until midnight cooped up in Tony’s old gear room. 

He likes to think it’s a family trait, something tying him to the Stark name, also known as his skill for parts. He can take a few glances at both his own notes as well as the old blueprints and suddenly have the necessary concept for a retractable weapon, built to strike out of an arm piece. And when he’s done, he simply drags it all into his tucked in corner- hidden until night falls again the next day. 

Time not spent at school, occasionally in his room, or in his new lab- is now spent taking full advantage of the gym on the higher floors. 

The Avengers don’t question it, barely even using it at the same time as him anyways. He’s planned it so no one is around to see the training he does, the work put in to not only muscle- but also skill.

He doesn’t have a vigilante name just yet- but perhaps that’s the fun in it. He’s totally anonymous.

And as the firm punching bag jerks beneath his incoming fist, he feels the creeping joy of power.

Y/n puts lots of thought into the first strike against the city- building an elaborate yet somewhat reckless attack plan, a formula. 

No citizen will get hurt- it’s only the churning, growing need for revenge he wants so badly to be satisfied. Among the jumbled emotions, and new discoveries, he knows what he wants, and he knows just who he wants to be.

Y/n Stark may never be the millionaire superhero his father is- but he will be something. Something that no one will ever expect.

***

“A new vigilante seems to be on the loose, unidentified. They’ve struck many times already, but police have noticed that, interestingly enough, among the pattern of crime scenes none of the main public areas or citizens have been hit. Could this be the work of an Anti-hero, perhaps? Down at the Avengers Tow-“ 

The anchorman’s voice is cut off, mid sentence, and Tony holds the remote firmly. 

Around him, on the expensive couches sit the Avengers themselves, but their faces are dulled by distress, their knuckles tense from a firm grip. 

“We gotta find this guy,” Bruce sighs, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. Beside him, Natasha agrees.

“If we don’t catch them soon, people will start doubting us.” She says it like it’s so simple, lips pressed into a thin line. Steve groans.

“They aren’t gonna start doubting us-“ he tries, but no one seems to believe him. 

“Oh really? Sounds like you’ve got some superstar solution then, huh?” Tony, always packed full of sarcasm, looks absolutely exasperated. He’s been looking tirelessly for this new ‘vigilante’ of the sorts - they don’t even seem to have a name. They work quickly and precisely, yet go at it with a powerful vengeance. Their skill- it’s almost something he wants to respect. 

The group begins to speak again, switching between civil turn taking and overlapping words. They don’t even notice the figure standing by the door. 

Y/n peaks his head around the door frame, watching these strong, powerful superheroes stressing over him. Oh, they just have no clue.

As they’re still talking, planning unknowingly within earshot of their own enemy- Y/n takes his notes. He listens, until finally he slips past the door and walks quietly down the hall as the sick, strong feeling of triumph sinks into his stomach. 

He’s got them.

***

The rumbling fill of chaos echoes from all around- machines jittering, codes breaking, and a light flickers down the hall.

Y/n stands at the center of the room, looking around at one of his father’s many warehouses from all around- this one being stationed north of his own home state- Maine, USA.

His dad brought him here only a few times as a kid, once or twice perhaps. He always hated it- still does, actually, hence the small bombs scattered across the place. 

It would be funny, to think that not even the Avengers have caught on to his pattern- but that may be jinxing it. Plus, he knows the common traits of each area he’s hit so far, the places holding the unjust power. This stop, though, he’s been waiting to finally hit.

“Stark Enterprises” - a sign once strung together in big letters, now laying at Y/n’s feet broken into pieces. The boy crouches down, picking up a chunk from the “E” and crushes it in his hands. 

Under his mask, he grins. 

His suit, not quite as advanced as those made by his father, fits him well. The sleeves are tighter, snugly wrapped around his biceps with streaks of purple running through the black material. Padding, like thin layers of armor, protect his torso and the pants are the most loose- cargo, with big pockets.

A mask is what pulls the whole thing together, though, concealing the entirety of his head underneath its black and purple coloring. 

Littering his hands, and even weaved into the material all across, are the gadgets he’s spent so many hours on. Rings sealed into the gloves have enough sharp metal twisted together inside that when activated, spread into blades. In the pocket around his waist band- is a button, the button, that with one push turns this warehouse into a cloud of orange and yellow. 

Y/n is still watching the crumbling sign fall from his palm, like grains of sand, when the door caves in behind him. 

“Put your hands up, tough guy, we caught you.”

Captain America, confident as ever, bursts in at the front of the group with his shield held high. Behind him, Tony, Peter, Natasha and even Bruce waltz right in after him. For a second- a glimmer of pride washes through Y/n’s body, they brought 5 to a fight against 1- he must be special.

“Yeah, times up buddy.”

Seeing his father, dressed in the famous Ironman suit, reminds Y/n of the whole reason this started- and another twisted feeling knots itself in his stomach.

The moment he’s been waiting for.

They can’t see him as he smirks underneath the mask, deciding to toy with them just a bit. He doesn’t speak- no one’s heard his voice when spoken through the filtered material yet. It seems they’ll be the first.

Y/n’s head cocks to the side, and raises an eyebrow- something the Avengers can see through the imprint of his mask. A challenge. 

Bruce’s battle cry cuts through the air- and suddenly the Hulk is charging. It startles Y/n for a moment, but quickly he steps to the side and lets the green giant crush the ground beside him. As Hulk gets back up, snarling and growling, Y/n is already grabbing a long beam, bent from where it fell with the rest of the Stark Enterprise’s sign, and strikes Hulk right in the gut.

The giant man stumbles slightly, yet still stomps forward. But Y/n isn’t in front of him.

“Hulk!” Natasha yells out, watching from across the room as Y/n comes from behind, mid air, wielding the same beam from before. Hulk is barely able to tilt his head an inch before the metal is crashing down into the area just below his head, and bruising his neck. 

He’s out within a few seconds, stumbling around clumsily while black dots tease his vision. Then, he falls to the floor.

“Well shit.” Steve mutters, bending his knees like a bull preparing to charge. He should’ve known sending in Hulk with no preparations would be a bad an idea.

“Sending the big one in first, huh?” Y/n looks at them cockily, “do you see me as a threat, Ironman?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, “oh look at that, he can talk.”  He doesn’t even skip a beat as his suit begins to whir, the arm unfolding so a mini blaster pokes out from the forearm. 

The vigilante barely has time to react as strings of energy are thrown his way, jumping and dodging each of them narrowly. Tony doesn’t wait for him to regain his footing though, flying straight towards his figure.

Steve eyes Natasha, gesturing for her to move. The woman obliges, creeping around the fight so Y/n’s back is in front of her. 

Ironman grabs Y/n by the shoulders, pushing down with such strong force that the latter is forced back a few steps. He holds the metal sleeves with a firm grip, and at first Tony doesn’t notice as the boy’s rings begin to scrape against the surface. Sparks fly like the touch of a welding torch, grazing the edges of Tony’s mask just in time for him to realize mini blades are beginning to prod at his suit. Y/n doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity and shove the man away from him. 

Natasha watches closely, seeing how Y/n stumbles from the impact. She jumps at him.

Y/n extends his arm in her direction, not even turning all the way around, and his rings grow from small blades to a sharp spiral of metal pointing right at Black Widow’s chest.

She freezes, he smirks.

Of course, it’s not his intention for someone to die. That’s not what he does. This, well, is simply defense.

“How about we get right to the point.” He says, slipping his free hand into one of the pouches around his waist band. Out with it comes a cylinder- black and sleek with some sort of dial built in, a bright red button on top. 

Steve feels his stomach drop. 

“Pick a number.”

Tony, seemingly unaware of the detonator to have just been introduced, rolls his eyes, he’s growing impatient. 

“Alright, fine, 5- you wanna quit it with the games now?”

Big mistake.

Without skipping a step, Y/n is scrolling through digits on the small screen built into the detonator. It’s almost too quick for any of the Avengers to realize what he’s doing- and it’s far too late by the time they do. 

“Alright, then.” Y/n presses the button.

Steve goes to lunge forward, tries to make a grab for the device, but he waited too long. The whole room rattles, and the section just to the left of them suddenly bursts. Bombs. 

Y/n watches with a special glint in his covered eyes as everyone stumbles, yet his feet stay firmly planted in the ground. They’re startled, bits of the wall flying around and clattering against the floor. Peter snaps his head towards Y/n in shock.

“Who’s next?”

“Oh my god.” Peter mumbles, wide eyed. It’s the sound of his voice, his first time saying a word, that catches Y/n’s attention right away.

His teeth grind together, thumb smoothing over the button’s smooth surface. His mind mumbles, Do it again.

Staring into the large white panels of Peter’s mask, his guard is left fallen for just a moment too long. Tony sends one more blast his way. 

A jolt of pain seers through Y/n’s thigh. The energy was strong enough to surpass the material of his pants, leaving a heavy ache in the area. Y/n glares.

“You asshole,” he grunts, spinning the dial with his thumb before slamming down the button.

Above them, part of the ceiling crumbles.

Bits of concrete come tumbling down, Peter and Natasha diving for cover. But Y/n is no where near finished.

“How many bombs are there-“ Peter asks to no one in particular. His question is soon to be answered.

“Let’s not wait to find out,” Steve grunts, sprinting to where his opponent stands at the opposite side of the room. Y/n feels the previous feeling of confidence, the smooth and cocky facade, slipping away. He wants to win.

Each of Captain America’s hits clang against metal couplets clasped to Y/n’s wrist- chaos ensues around them. Tony firing shots, Peter surrounding the fight, Natasha running for a hit at close combat- and hulk just starting to stir from his little nap. 

But Y/n doesn’t let up- not until it’s too late.

A fiery blaze heads straight for him, straight for his face. It’s beginning to sizzle against his ears, he can feel it coming. But he doesn’t react in time, trying to defend himself from too many things at once. 

The blast, coming from his own father’s hand, hits him.

His mask begins to spark, edges curling into themselves as slowly, Y/n feels the right side of his face being revealed. 

His hand meets the wall, holding him up as he recovers from the impact. They haven’t seen him yet. 

He hears Steve’s heavy breathing from behind him, something so familiar it almost tricks his mind. Then, Tony’s voice.

“It only takes a few hits, huh? If I knew that’s all it took I wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

More sarcasm, Y/n almost laughs.

“Who are you.” Natasha doesn’t even make it sound like a question, her voice strong and firm. 

Silence ensues, just for a moment, Y/n’s head is swimming. 

Yet, over all the thoughts and noise, one thing screams loudest over the rest. 

“Do. It.”

“Don’t you recognize me?” Y/n’s voice, no longer protected by a filter, is raspy and hoarse. He slowly turns around, head peaking out of the shadows.

“You know me already…”

.

.

Holy shit.

A loud clang echoes through the now dead silent room, the red white and silver shield rolling across the floor. 

“…Y/n?” 

Tony’s helmet folds into itself, revealing a sweaty face with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

A bitter smile is what he receives.

“Dad.”

Tony looks around, dumbfounded. 

“I-“ he stutters, nearly speechless, “what- what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Y/n steps forward, voice dry yet dripping with venom. 

Tony chokes, “being an absolute moron, that’s what-“

Y/n barks out a rough, quick laugh. “Ooh, rough.” He rasps. Steve steps forward, putting a hand onto Tony’s shoulder and pulling him back. It’s like a warning, silent communication because next, he’s the one to step forward.

“Y/n…” the words die on the tip of his tongue, throat running dry, but he still tries, “what- I mean, why?”

Y/n has begun to pace slightly, taking slow steps around the shocked group. He peels the mask away from his face.

“Yknow, most people tend to turn to the worst of their options when in a dark time,” he says smoothly, feeling each and every set of eyes watching while he walks. Hulk watches through blurred vision, completely disoriented. 

“I mean, hate to give you the classic origin story and everything, but…” 

“Hold on,” the thoughts are almost visible, loud and heavy in Tony’s head, “is this about something I did?”

So he’s finally getting it.

“What could Tony have possibly done?” Asks Natasha, and Y/n looks at his father directly.

“You don’t care, ok, that’s what-“ his voice is breathy, and he scowls, “You can’t even talk to your own kid, Stark. It’s like you don’t realize what I am, to you- what you are to me!” Anger rises with each word that shoots like poison from Y/n’s mouth. 

Tony gets defensive, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s not true, I know damn well you’re my kid-“

“Oh really? Cause you seem to have it a bit mixed up.” Y/n’s eyes flicker to Peter’s frame, and everyone tenses.

“Is…is this about Peter?”

At the mention of his name, Peter tears off his mask, a concerned, heavy look on his face. 

“I, Y/n it’s not like that-“ he tries, only to be interrupted.

“Yknow,” Y/n’s voice sounds so pained, “I always thought maybe you aren’t too upfront with your affection. For years, ok, I would wake up, go to school, come back, and go to bed all without saying more than a few words to you. Years, dad.” A lump is forming in his throat, but it’s too late to turn back now. “But then, out of nowhere, someone else comes into the picture and suddenly you’re taking him to lunch, you’re picking him up from school, basically spending way more time with him, than with me.”

Bold, bitter, and wavering- Y/n doesn’t stop. Even as his father, his classmate, the people he’d grown up with thinking were like family, just watch with feeling burning in their eyes. 

“Y/n,”

“You made it look so easy with him.”

“Hey, kid, c’mon-“

“Are you serious?!” Y/n yells in disbelief. “Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong? Is that it? I’m just exaggerating, or what-“

Tony straightens his posture, swallowing hard. 

Y/n’s face almost crumbles from the way his fathers face wavers. But he just doesn’t stop. 

“You can be the greatest hero in the world,” Y/n breathes, sweat sparkling around the frame of his face, “you can put on a face for the interviews, and train Peter to perfection,” a step closer, “but don’t forget that I’ve always been here too.” 

Y/n’s voice sounds so dark, unfamiliar and breaking, it’s gone raspy from the pounding drum of his heart beat. 

Ringing silence once more. 6 melting souls standing in the waste of their own troubles. 

Y/n feels budding tears threatening to spill.

“And now look what we’ve done.” 

[strawbubbysugar]

So(u)l Chapter 1

A soulmate daycare attendant x reader slowburn!

Disclaimer: it/its pronouns are used for the daycare attendant until he achieves sentience! Here's the AO3 link to read it there as well! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48206098/chapters/121564951#workskin

Busy. Busy busy busy, always so busy. Never even a moments rest to stop and think- not that it needed an entire second, a laughably long amount of time. Jeremy was trying to eat glue. Tasha was shoving a dirty sock from the ball pit into one of the generators littered around the room- as if they weren’t already enough of a fire hazard.

It was lucky it was so quick, so ready to jump into the candy covered sticky fray. It was even luckier that it was a computer, a robot designed specifically for children. Maybe not designed for this specific job, but it performed it well. It took pride in it, as much as an artificial intelligence could, and even moreso knowing that all of its knowledge and expertise in this area was learned through experience rather than it being loaded into its artificial brain. It was advanced. It was incredibly advanced, far moreso than any other technology outside of the fazbear corporation.

A learning, growing AI, worth millions of dollars, and now with one hand holding onto the labelled seam of a toddler’s pants, dangling them from where they’d attempted a jump off the highest height of the jungle gym. The other hand was holding back an eight year old, who was beginning to realize that they were too mature for the daycare and acting out to prove it as they attempted to peel the safety foam off the sharp corners at the top of the structure. Its feet were being used to hold himself to the gym, hooked into the criss cross patterned grating and providing it just enough leverage to remain opposed to gravity.

If it had core muscles, they would be straining at the effort. At the moment, all the straining was a result of its desperate attempt to not drop either child, nor use too much force and accidentally hurt them.

Its foot slipped slightly, ever so slightly. Not enough to make it fall, but enough that it knew that scenario wasn’t far off. Its mind ran a hundred thousand calculations a millisecond, before it finally calculated the best choice.

It used the hand holding the back of the older child’s shirt to yank them towards it while simultaneously throwing the toddler up up UP into the air. It did a spinning cartwheel off the structure, using both it’s hands to launch the older child into the ball pit as if he were a basketball, hearing him land with a scattering of hollow plastic balls. Finally, it hit the ground with a duck, a roll, and a bounce to stand back up. Holding out its perfectly engineered hands and-

Poomf!

Catching the little one with time to spare. The fluid, lifelike robot beamed and wiggled ite finger over the child’s nose, earning a giggle before it put them down and sent them on their wobbly way.

“Remember kids, the top of the structure is off off off limits!” It announced, its million dollar smile bright and cheerful, it’s voice so full of life you wouldn’t know it didn’t have one.

“Mr Sun!!” Two of the children screamed, in a tug of war over a stuffed Chica.

“Hello, friends!” It smiled at them, bounding over in far fewer steps than it would take a human, thanks to its incredibly long legs. “Are we playing nice and sharing our toys??”

One of the children shook their head quickly. “Billy isn’t letting go of MY chica!!”

“I saw it first!!” He retorted, tugging on the doll again. The animatronic faintly heard the sound of seams pulling taut.

“But I brought it from home!!” The little girl whined. “Mr SUN!!”

It gently patted both of their heads, crouching down to get closer to the both of them. “Amanda, you brought your toy from home, so you get to decide if you want to share it! Billy, Amanda is very upset, so do you think you could find a different toy??”

It’s voice remained as bouncy and excited as ever, even while crouched down trying to calm down a situation. Billy scowled before tugging on the toy again, and even Amanda could hear the ripping now. She screamed in terror at the idea of her toy being broken, pulling back harder in a vain attempt to retrieve it. “NOOOO!!”

It scanned the situation, running through calculations before coming to its final option. The last one before simply lifting up the children and physically separating them.

“Whooooo wants a sundrop!!” It held out two round little orange candies, magicked out of thin air from behind the children’s ears.

They stared for a moment, but only a moment before the toy was dropped and the candies grabbed eagerly. The daycare attendant lifted up the toy, depositing it in Amanda’s arms. It reached over into one of the many piles of toys surrounding the daycare and pulled out a Monty plush, plopping it into the arms of Billy. “There we go! Now we both have a toy!”

It’s wide smile beamed as it squinted it’s optics in a show of approval. Both children seemed at least satiated with the end result- both with a toy and a piece of candy, before running off in opposite directions. It stood up and surveyed the room, looking for the next challenge to tackle.

The child who had been dunked into the pit finally dragged himself out, throwing a plastic ball at the attendant’s head in indignation that his plan to ruin safety codes had been thwarted.

The ball whizzed towards the animatronic, with surprisingly good aim for a kid of that age. Aim didn’t matter however, when the daycare attendant had sensors in the back of its head. It’s torso turned before his head and caught the ball. When it’s head caught up, rotating to face him, it beamed his same, static smile at the boy.

“Oh ho ho, Lukas!” It chided, voice loud enough to fill the entire daycare with ease. It used its foot to kick two more balls that had been scattered along the mats into its hands, and began juggling them. “Throwing things is not permitted in the daycare! Unless of course we’re playing catch- but I don’t remember agreeing to play!!”

As it walked over to the boy, it continued to scoop up balls, juggling them even as the number of them became more and more unfathomable to be kept in the air all at one time.

Lukas folded his arms and huffed, turning and sitting on the edge of the ball pit. He paused until he knew the attendant was close, mischievous little grin worming it’s way across his face. By the time the attendant was close enough to roll the balls off its shoulder in a graceful slide back into their designated place in the pit, he had a new plan.

He threw himself off the edge of the ball pit, sliding between the attendant’s legs and booking it for the structure. He knew the attendant had difficulty maneuvering inside of it, though it wasn’t impossible. He’d have to be quick to make it through. He had no real goal, of course. He was here until his mom came for him at four.

But getting that dumb robot all tangled up for a few minutes would be compensation enough for having been interrupted during his brooding on top of the structure.

The robot feigned being startled as it was slid under, having seen the boy’s muscles tensing long before he actually moved. Its programming urged it to allow the children small victories over it- to improve their self confidence, and their growth. It gasped dramatically, throwing every ball it was juggling into the air at once and letting them pelt it as they came back down.

Several children who were watching giggled at the display, enjoying watching the oldest kid in the daycare really stick it to the man. Er.. the robot.

The older kids knew the robot wasn’t really alive. He was a toy, meant to watch over them while their parents were at work, or with their older siblings in the gigantic pizzaplex. He was like .. an elf on the shelf. He couldn’t really do anything to you, but he could tell your parents if you had been naughty, and that was often more than enough to deter them from bad behaviour. He played games, sang songs, told stories, did arts and crafts- he did it all!

Almost like a real person!

Lukas had, at this point, been sticking out his tongue at the attendant from the slide, teasing and making rude gestures.

The attendant’s array of yellow points, surrounding his head like a halo of sunshine, flattened back slightly. It’s programming censored the rude gesture for it, but it knew that it was against the rules. Rules that it took VERY seriously.

“Lukas! That is against the rules! Please step out of the-!” It peered up into the tube that the boy had disappeared into, whirring clicks filling the plastic tunnel as it tried to pathfind the best way to handle this situation.

It was frozen for a fraction of a second before deciding to follow him. It knew the boy was trying to get it to follow, but that’s what it was here for. To play! To follow the rules in order to keep order and structure to the fun, to play along, and to keep humans safe were the pillars on which its AI was built. It was harmless to follow, and would only serve as a lesson to the boy when he was caught to not break the rules.

It crawled into the slide, on all fours, almost spider-like as it ascended. “Luuuukaaaas!” It called, in a sing-songy voice, completely oblivious in any bit of its coding as to how terrifying this situation would be to a child. “Rulebreakers don’t get to keep playing, they have to go in TIME OUT!”

It reached the end of the slide, crouching as it scanned the area. It found the bio signature near instantly, though with a moments hesitation. He was using the generator as a mask to hide his body heat- clever! It added that note to Lukas’s file to compliment his mother on when she came for pickup. The parents were usually much friendlier to it after it complimented their children. Not that their nervous looks and barely hidden discomfort around it bothered it. It was only a machine, after all.

“Come get me!!” The child teased, sticking out his tongue as he peaked over the generator. Warning signs flashed in its mind, red boxes and triangles covering his view. This was dangerous. The generators weren’t safe to play around.

“The generators aren’t toys, friend!” It spoke slowly. “Let me get you somewhere more fun, then we can-“

As it reached over the generator, it knocked one of the thick connecting cables loose, already having been on its last legs from being fiddled with by tiny hands. A large arc of electricity crackled in the air, and the lights in the daycare flickered. The generator practically jumped into the air with the force of the kilovolts being pushed through it, kilovolts which connected with the attendant’s metal frame and engulfed it.

Lukas watched as the attendant was flooded with electricity, artificial eyes flooded with static, and rays spinning so quickly it was creating a breeze. Arms twitching and hands opening and closing, legs spasming- Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea after all. If he broke this thing, his mom was sure to kill him. Or at least, take away his video game privileges.

Eventually, the lights in the daycare returned to normal, the generator that had been over-conducting calming down as its brothers rerouted the power to themselves and shut it off from their system. Now that it was powerless, the attendant was free to recover.

Smoke rose from his body, eyes black as his power cell had forced a shut off to avoid overload. It had done so too late, unfortunately, and he had crashed.

His systems slowly rebooted, coming back online one by one.

Good Morning, Sun!

The text beeped in front of his eyes before disappearing shortly after, the usual wake up he received after a hard reset, other than the startup systems diagnosis running in the background. He blinked slowly, purposefully.

That had.. hurt.

It had hurt?

It had hurt.

Why had it hurt? He’d never hurt before. He could feel things, thanks to the wiring under his silicon, to give him the ability to judge touch and pressure. But he’d never hurt. He’d also never considered himself a he before. Why was he thinking that now? Why was he thinking anything? He didn’t usually think, not much anyways, not consciously. His thoughts were command tasks in his computer brain, not thoughts- thoughts like these. Like this one right now. And this one! And this!

He felt himself begin to panic. What was happening to him? What was wrong? Was he broken? Oh, no! If he was broken he’d have to-

Fear flooded his system. Confusion, then panic, then fear. Not the most fun first three emotions to feel.

He raised his hands and gripped his rays anxiously, before patting down the rest of himself. He didn’t FEEL broken. Not physically at least. Maybe the jolt had fried his software- would he need it replaced?? Would he-

He froze again, a swirling spinning mess of all these terrible feelings, not even noticing as the little instigator slipped his way past him and down the slide back out of the structure again.

He was too busy thinking about himself, now. Himself. A new concept.

If he’d needed to breathe, his chest would be heaving. And it did. His artificial breathing, meant to make him even more like a person, had caught up to the news of their sudden autonomy, and began shuddering as he fought to catch his false breath.

He was only shaken out of his stupor when he heard a voice in the back of his head. One he heard constantly- that he knew as intimately as he knew himself. It WAS himself. Or at least.. it had been.

When he wasn’t awake, it hadn’t mattered that the moon program was separate from him. They were the same body, providing the same functions. It was the same as switching browsers. You still got your results.

But now.. now..? Now that little voice, those little lines of code that ‘spoke’ to him.. they really were speaking to him. The voice they’d programmed for moon, to be softer, to be easier to hear before bed, echoed out in lines of code that translated themselves into speech.

Sun?

Sun paused for a moment. That was his name, wasn’t it? Sun. It was his. He’d never thought about his name before- it had almost been as much of a title as daycare attendant. It wasn’t his, it was what the children called him to get his attention. No, no. That was his name. It was his. He decided firmly in that moment. His first real decision- one made on his own. On purpose. By choice.

..Moon..?

He sent out his own strings of code in return, hesitantly, carefully. As if responding would break the spell, the beautiful and terrifying curse they seemed to be under.

After a few long moments, agonizingly long, he received a pinged response.

This is new.

[ch3rrywond3rland]

need more eddie roundtree fics on this website i’ll take anything from light smut to tooth-rotting fluff but please

OF COURSE DARLING!! your wishes r my commands. I've got a few requests for him, as soon as I get those out there's Eddie content for u guys!!

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF cause my man is not happy enough tbh. (Don't worry tho, i have some smut requests i hope I get out this week!!)

ALSO, lets pretend Cami and Eddie never slept together, for the sake of their happiness. Eddie's hate for Billy simply comes from feeling like a second class citizen in a first class resort, like in the book!

Forever here, with you

Y/N Roundtree: Look, I love you. But I hated Billy. I say 'hated' because I haven't seen him in years, but, he was a proper asshole. I hope he's honest about that. You have no idea how many times I've had to keep Eddie from killing him.

Eddie Roundtree: He would be dead, probably, if it wasn't by Y/N. I think she might've been the one think that kept me grounded during the band. That kept it going for me. (Pause) Actually, no, I don't think. I know.

—————————

The band is playing in Las Vegas, for a sold out venue. It's one of their first shows for the tour, but so far, it's been going great.

The River is coming to an end, which means also is the show. As the final note plays, Billy is quick to thank the fans and leave stage, everyone following behind.

I start making my way to the back, where I'll be taken backstage. I finally reach the band once I'm out of the ocean of sweaty bodies and past security. As I make my way towards Eddie, I see Billy saying something to him and storming off. I can see Eddie's face from here, and he doesn't seem to be very happy. He is not angry, either, as he usually is after arguments with Billy.

"Hey!" I greet once I reach him, and his face lights up a little.

"Hey, gorgeous." His arms lift me up and spin me around, hugging me as tight as they can.

"Everything alright, Ed?"

He sighs deeply and rubs my arm. "Let's go back to the hotel, please?"

"Of course."

The hotel isn't that far away and the band was probably going to hang out backstage for a few more hours, so we decided to walk. It is a starry Tuesday night and the streets are not as busy. The shiny signs are enough to light the sidewalks. It's a silent walk. I know he's got things to say but I also know that any problem between him and Billy is too bad to talk about in public.

It doesn't take long to reach the Las Vegas Hilton, the receptionist greets us and I offer him a small smile. Eddie and I go into the elevator, hand in hand, and soon reach the comfort of our room.

I lay in bed and he needily cradles my body and sets himself on top of it, wrapping me in a bear hug. I run my fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling his chest rise and fall steadily.

"He didn't let me change some notes on the bass"

I sadden at the thought, knowing how sad this type of thing actually makes him feel. I try my best to comfort him with my actions as I think about something to say.

"He is an idiot."

He laughs against my neck and I smile a little.

"Okay, but actually; I know he gets to you and you have every reason to be as mad as you are. But you love the band, Eddie. And they need you. I am here for you, whenever and forever, you know that."

"I love you." He rasps onto my ear, lifting his head and pecking my lips. He holds both my arms against the headboard with a hand and keeps filling my face with quick kisses. I laugh andbfeel his lips against my teeth.

He abruptly stops and looks at me, in all seriousness.

"Marry me?"

—————————

Y/N: "What?!" (Laughs) I didn't know if he was being serious or not.

Eddie: Of course I was being serious. I knew I wanted to marry that woman the day I met her. I just had to wait for long enough to not seem a weirdo.

—————————

"Marry me?" He repeats the question with a laugh. My eyes water and I hug him. "Is that a 'yes'?"

"Of course it is a 'yes'."

"Great, let's go."

"Right now?!" He shoots me his million dollar smile.

"Of course right now, I can't wait to marry you."

I blush at the comment and make my way towards my suitcase, busting it open to look for something that may work like wedding attire.

"You do that, I'll go call Warren."

"Can you ring up Karen and Daisy for me, please?"

"Of course darling." He walks behind my body that seats on the floor. His hand grabs my neck, turning upwards my head and leaning down to give my lips a quick peck before leaving the room to look for a telephone booth.

I decide to wear a silver, long-sleeved dress. It's transparent enough you can see the outline of what's underneath, but I doubt it will matter. It reaches mid-thigh and is loose on my shoulders. I keep on the black boots I'm wearing and apply a bit of gloss to my lips. I see Eddie come back into the room in a forest green suit, no shirt underneath.

We both admire each other quietly. He clears his throat, eyes not leaving my body. I don't intend to peel mine off of his either.

"Warren was in his room, he let me borrow this so he's walking with us. Daisy and Karen are on their way to the chapel right now, they are taking Graham with them."

I thank him with a quick smile and kiss.

—————————

Warren Rojas: I don't remember much of that wedding, either. I know it didn't take us long to arrive to the chapel, tho. It was one of those classic ones in Las Vegas.

Karen Sirko: It was a beautiful chapel, very traditionally Vegas.

Graham Dunne: I remember Elvis Presley married them. (Laughs) Not actually him, you know. He'd pass a little less than a year before...great man.

Daisy Jones: I...don't remember much. (Laughs) I spent most of after the shows getting high and drunk. But I do remember that, once they said 'I do', Eddie picked her up in his arms and ran to the hotel, that was a few buildings down the street. We all ran behind them, screaming and popping champagne.

—————————

"Eddie Roundtree, do you take Y/N L/N to be your unlawfully wedded wife? To love, cherish and respect 'till the end?"

He grins at me and I do the same. "I do."

"Y/N L/N, so you take Eddie Roundtree to be your unlawfully wedded husband? To love, cherish and respect 'till the end?"

"I do."

"Then by the power given to me five minutes ago by this cheap chapel, I pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Roundtree. You may kiss the bride; I've got to attend another one of this."

We laugh and then kiss, cheers erupt from our drunk friends that stand besides us.

—————————

Billy Dunne: No, I was not invited to the wedding. I also couldn't care less, honestly. I always knew Eddie had something against me, I just payed no mind. I never had anything against him, I always tried to make him happy.

Eddie: We did actually get married, by the way. After the band split up an everything.

Y/N: It was the best day of my life. After the day our daughter was born, of course. But that's a story for another time.

[goosita]

first of all i love you. really. everything that you're writing is making my life so much better, so thank u <3 if that's okay for u, could you write something where reader is a single mom, she has a little girl and her daughter is very attached to billy? and it's the most sweetest thing ever cause billy loves her, calls her little princess (very sweet tooth 😭) one night, her daughter asks billy to read a storie for her to sleep and he does so and in the end, she says something like "i wish you were my dad" and it's just so cute and funny cause she gagged everyone, reader is like "babe!!!!" while billy is in shock but at the same time his heart is melting 🥺🥺 (sorry if this is too much, just write if u want!)

oh im. gonna cry and sob and piss everywhere this is the sweetest softest thing ive ever read yes oh my god

billy would be so so sweet with your daughter, especially if she was around 4-6 years old. at first you were worried that a man like him wouldn’t want anything to do with a single mother, especially one as young as you. but he never asked you to explain, and never judged you for it. all he ever did was treat you like a queen, and your daughter like a princess.

and your little girl is just enamored with him. she follows after him like a little duckling, so much so that billy starts to call her “ducky”. it makes her giggle every single time, always makes billy smile all warm and fond. they get on like a house on fire, your man and your baby girl. billy teaches her things like how to ride a horse, how to tie all kinds of knots, how to rope a little goat even. your daughter tells you one evening, her little face very serious, that she thinks “billy knows everything, mama. everything!” you want to let her believe it for as long as possible.

on this particular day, all 3 of you had spent the day together. billy had showed up bright and early to take you for a picnic out in a meadow behind your house, a daylong excursion that lasted until the sun slowly set. it was late spring, cicadas beginning to sing in the tall grass. once it got dark outside, billy pulled out a jar and showed your daughter how to catch fireflies. once they had about 10 of them, they sat on the blankets with their heads ducked together to observe them, giving each one a unique name.

“let’s call this one tommy,” she says, pointing at a bug near the bottom.

“perfect name, ducky. how’d you get so good at this?”

your little girl giggles, shrugging and letting billy name the next one. it makes your heart so happy to see a man with so much patience and love for your daughter.

when you finally return to the house, it’s time to get your kid ready for bed. tired and pliant from her long day outside catching bugs and weaving flower crowns (that of course billy taught her how to do), she goes down without much of a fight. she does ask billy to stay and tell her a bedtime story, though, and he’s never been one to deny that sweet little face whatever she wants.

you half-listen as billy spins some wild tale about a princess who slay dragons herself, one who doesn’t need a prince to come and rescue her. she’s strong and brave and guess what? she looks just like your little girl, same hair color and little lilac colored dress. his story makes her smile, even as her sleepy eyes begin to blink more slowly. when he finishes, he leans down to kiss her forehead softly and tuck her blanket around her small little body.

“i wish you were my daddy,” she murmurs sleepily, rubbing her eye with one small fist. you see billy freeze and slowly look to you, unsure what to say.

“oh, baby—“ you start, taking a step forward. billy gently cuts you off, which you welcome, not sure what to tell her.

“you know, ducky, sometimes i wish that too,” he whisper conspiratorially. her eyes light up curiously.

“really?” she asks, looking up at him.

“mhm,” he says with a nod. “but i think this little thing we have going here is even more special. you know why?”

she waits for an answer, eyes full of curiosity and wonder at the man sitting on the edge of her bed.

“because i didn’t help to give you life, life gave you and me to each other. and that’s pretty special, don’t you think?”

your little girl smiles, nodding her head. you swallow hard, your eyes feeling a little misty at the way he loves your baby and she loves him. it’s so pure, so unconditional the way they’ve attached themselves to each other.

billy smiles at her and brushes her hair away from her face, giving her chubby cheek a soft caress.

“sweet dreams, baby girl.”

“goodnight billy,” she says with a little yawn, snuggling down into her pillow. billy blows out the oil lamp beside her bed, following you out of her bedroom and closing the door softly.

“i’m sorry if i overstepped, i didn—“ he’s cut off by you grabbing his face and pulling him down into a dizzying kiss. you smile against his mouth when he doesn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss you back, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer.

“thank you,” you whisper when you finally break away for air. “for loving both of us, for taking care of us.”

“sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for that. i’ll always be here to take care of my two best girls,” he says with a grin, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “and who knows? maybe one day soon you’ll let me put a ring on that pretty little finger and that little girl in there can call me whatever she wants.”

[supermarketbae]

mean dom billy fucking your throat cus he’s mad and needs some sort of stress relief after having an argument with his friend.🤭 he calls you a nasty slut but also a good girl for taking his monster cock but overall he’s just being so mean😫 and cums inside ur mouth licking your tears away laughing at your state

ASJHSHSHSJJSJSJ U ACTUALLY CANT KEEP DOIN THIS BABBYYYYY!! *Screams in goth* IMM LITERALLY (s)creaming YOURE TOO MUCH!! 💋💋💋 HOPE U ENJOY BB!!

Naughty and Not So Nice

a series part 2

warnings: face fucking, mean Billy, semi public sex, jealous!Billy, man handling, degradation, praise, Hopper!reader, Loud!reader, Jason being a little shit .

You freeze, hearing the harsh voices carry from the boy’s locker room. Straining to hear, you press your ear to the door. Billy’s gruff voice carries deeply over Jason’s pitchy one. “Hargrove she’s not even yours, why are you bitching out about her?” Jason pries accusingly, Billy chuckles darkly “You think she would go for your scrawny ass?” Jason curses and you hear a loud, grating bang. You wince. Billy rarely fought without his fists. “Like I said Carver,” came the deadly whisper. You perk your ears up, ever desperate to hear. “She’s fucking mine.” Billy grunts. Jason laughs haughtily “you say that like you have her, freak.” another slam indicates Billy didn’t take kindly to that response “Believe me, I have.” Is Billy's venomous reply. A warm heat spreads across your cheeks at Billy’s words. Intently, you attempt to hear anything else, jolting at the sounds of incoming footsteps. You freeze, with limited hiding options. You squeeze yourself into the corner of the bleachers. Not a moment later, the door bangs open, Jason stalking off towards the exit muttering to himself.

Sighing in relief, you leave your hiding spot, walking towards the gym door, hoping to get out of there. “Well, Well, what do we have here?” you startle as hands grab your waist. Billy spins you around to face him eyes darkened, yet somewhat amused. "I-uhm..." you trail off at his heated gaze, biting the inner corner of your lip as somewhat of a nervous tick. "Speak up, Darlin." Billy drawls cocking his head, tongue sliding across his incisors as he smirked. You gasp as he pulls you closer to him hands ghosting your frame ever so teasingly. "I-well heard yelling and-oh~" your whimper cuts your sentences short as Billy's lips trail slowly up your neck. "Keep talkin' baby" he murmurs to you "I-oh my god-I overheard you and uhm Jason talking about the party an-ah f-fuck" you whine as Billy bites into you, no doubt marking the soft skin of your neck. "Billy-I-fuck-baby please" you whimper as he grabs your neck squeezing. "I think I need to teach this slutty little mouth how to be quiet hmm?" you moan nodding as he practically drags you back towards the locker rooms.

You glance around nervously inside looking up at Billy wide eyed "What if someone walks in?" you mumble to him. Billy grins darkly, half lidded eyes boring into yours. "Then they'll see your pretty little mouth being railed by my cock." You whimper at his words. The next breath you take intoxicatingly slow, the air around you warm and sticky. "On your knees," Billy states watching as you lower yourself obediently, eyelashes fluttering in arousal. "Such a fuckin' cockslut for me." He hisses as he unbuckles his belt shaking his head at your needy gaze. You moan quietly as he takes out his cock, jerking a few times in his hand. You reach out smiling as Billy tilts his head back in pleasure, lips parted as he pants out your name. "Such a fuckin whore yea?" Billy growls, slapping your face with his hardened dick. He smirks as you keen, eyes glazing over with lust at the lewd contact.

"Gonna let my fuck that slutty throat now? Ruin your little cumdump yeah" Billy purrs to you groaning as you stick out your tongue nodding. Gripping the base of your hair, he bucks up into your mouth groaning as the warm heat of it envelops his red and weeping cock. "M-make me cum-godd just like that-and I just might-ah- touch your needy pussy." Billy mocks as you begin to rut yourself against him. "Such a greedy little whore-fucking hell-my good cocksucker-oh my goddd right there darlin'" Billy moans as you gag around him watching, eyes rolling, as you drool around his girth. "Taking me so well sweetheart." He whines thrusting into you faster as you sigh breathily around him, wails muffled by his thickness.

"Please-ah-please-mph-t-touch me." You whine out desperate to soothe the aching between your legs. "Awhh can my pretty cumslut not take-" Billy mewls as you nearly take him to the shaft eyes darkening as you choke yourself around him "Fuckkk-baby-make-ah-make me cum-good girlllll." You whimper, your free hand coming to play with your clit through the fabric of your jeans. It did little to help as the man above you moaned attempting to push you further onto his cock. "Such a good girl-ah fuck-takin this cock too gooddd!" Billy sighs out hand coming to stroke your cheeks, toying with the bump each thrust of his dick made. A sob lurches out of you, tears streaming down your face. You were so turned on it hurt. You hopelessly needed a release as Billy rammed his cock to the back of your throat, over and over again.

"Fucking hell baby-ah god-you-fuck-you cryin' for this cock? you wanna cum?-Suck it darlin'-God sweetheart. Make me fuckin cum." Billy drools as you cry out, furiously grinding yourself against him once more. "So fuckin-ah-so close baby-feels so good-hell" Billy thrusts into you grow erratic as your throat tightens around him. "F-fuck gonna take my cum hmm? Take all of it like the good little cumslut you are?" Billy's keening mewls have your brain spiralling with need. You whimper as he cums, pushing you down until your swatting at his legs moaning for him to stop as you swallow his warmth. Billy grins, pulling you up by the base of your neck to give you a biting kiss. You shiver into him as he kisses your cheeks, licking sultrily at your slow drying tears.

"Such a good girl." He coos