#I actually wasn’t gonna post this fic at all or go anonymous with it but here we are lol sksjdb

[queenimmadolla]

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking. 

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time. 

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you. 

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. 

“Can you leave this on his desk?” 

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them. 

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything. 

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.  

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place. 

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so. 

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there. 

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then. 

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him,  you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper. 

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him. 

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around. 

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking. 

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared. 

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public. 

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance. 

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump. 

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

── 

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich. 

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone. 

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note. 

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table. 

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him. 

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.” 

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there. 

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies. 

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis. 

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down. 

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real. 

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it). 

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying. 

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should. 

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel. 

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

 There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear. 

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose. 

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular. 

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness. 

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards. 

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party. 

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme. 

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author. 

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door. 

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection. 

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were. 

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party. 

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.” 

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it. 

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you. 

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that. 

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello. 

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.” 

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked. 

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?” 

He finally blinked, licking his lips again. 

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public. 

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?” 

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack. 

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?” 

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken. 

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. 

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger. 

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle. 

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you. 

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it. 

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you. 

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath. 

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions. 

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

—  You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did. 

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear. 

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated. 

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses. 

“. . .  You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.  

[aurorawritestoescape]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 things you’ve written that you are most proud of/were the most challenging to write and share them here, then if you’re so inclined (no pressure) put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate everyone’s hard work 😘😘

Thank you for the ask, baby!😘I talked about my favorites here so I’ll focus on the most challenging stories now🩷

🌺 Good Girl - Professor Joel Miller x f!reader.

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

I spent the longest time writing and editing this fic and the story was constantly changing in my head. The initial idea was actually a non-con fic which is insane, considering that in the end I wrote my softest Joel ever. It was also challenging bc I expressed a lot of my own fears and thoughts through reader and as a result I felt quite vulnerable, posting it. I’m happy and grateful that the story received positive feedback and became my most popular fic which was my biggest surprise🙏🥹

🌺 Addicted - Max Phillips x f!reader

Summary: Max gives you everything you need but can you stop when the pleasure gets addictive?

It took part in @iamasaddie ‘ Kinky May challenge and got Max (love you, Aly😘) I’d never written him before that and I had many many MANY ideas, started writing three different fics but none of them was THE ONE. For a week all my thoughts were about Max, frankly I was going insane😅 But one night I listened to Tear you apart by She Wants Revenge and it all came to me- the vibes, the story, the characters. I wrote it in one night and finally could breathe again😄

🌺 Part 6 of Bad Blood - step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: a month after Joel exposed your relationship with Tommy, the Miller brothers pay you a visit and your feelings come to the surface.

I should start by saying that unfortunately I’m not good with series. Both writing and reading. I’m a one shot girlie through and through. That’s why I’m extra proud that I wrote the final part of this/any series. (yes, there’s also gonna be an epilogue👀) Part 6 wasn’t easy to write. The love the series has got and keeps getting makes me very happy but I felt pressure, writing the chapter, bc I didn’t want to disappoint my readers. I hope I didn’t❤️

And I’d love to add that I wouldn’t be able to overcome all my fic writing troubles if not for my twin, my love, my most supportive beta @milla-frenchy 😍😍😍 She has to listen to my whining daily so I’m sending her a big Joel hug and a Javi forehead smooch🫂😘

Also 💖thank you💖 to all my readers for all the love and support!🥹 If it were an Oscar speech they’d start playing me off by now😅 LOVE y’all!

[httpscomexe]

Ensnared 1

So, after I read your response to my last ask, I got an idea for a fic or drabble whatever you want to do. So basically, it would be a Logan x plus-size reader. The timeline is set in the x mansion and reader came to them for help so she could stay somewhere idk something of that origin. Logan immediately becomes OBSESSED like he turns into a complete yandere. He starts following her and stealing her clothes 👀 knowing Logan he’s gonna act all weird and protective. And for shits and giggles let’s throw in some jealousy but on an outside character; They have a crush on Logan and are like “why would you be interested in someone like her🙄” then Logan goes batshit crazy. Regarding readers powers idk I always love what you come up with so I would love to see what you bring into this one!!

Summary: Finally, after having enough of the abuse and violent attacks, you decide to take shelter in a friend's home, the X-Mansion.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Yandere!Logan Howlett x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Discrimination of mutants, foul language, use of the word God, description of violence, traumatised reader, hidden injury, injury. Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Tags: @sammyluvsfics

Word Count: 3488 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

You didn’t remember much, but you know you were attacked.

Being a mutant wasn’t easy, and you needed an escape.

Xavier had mentioned the X-Mansion to you many times, but you’ve never even thought to consider it. At least not until you discovered there was a fucking gang trying to kidnap you, your powers considered something you can ‘only find once in a lifetime,’ if you’re lucky that is. But you didn’t find yourself very lucky. You wish you had just been normal, you wish you looked normal. You wanted to change everything.

So as you stand at the front doors of the mansion, your knuckles on the wood of the door as you hesitate to knock, you think again about turning back. It was late, and surely no one would be awake to hear you. You take a step back, unsure of if you actually wanted to be in the mansion. Sure, you’d be safe, but you wouldn’t be free.

But just as you’re about to step away, the door opens, slowly, and you expect someone to walk out and greet you, but nobody pops out. You peek around the door, and take a single step inside, then another, then another. Then you’re standing in the entrance of the mansion. It was cool inside, but you stood there awkwardly as you turned your head up, down, left, right. Looking all around you as you admired the size of the mansion. It was huge, and you’ve dreamt about it, but it was better than what you could’ve ever imagined. Still though, you had no idea where you were expected to go. After all, it was a mansion, and you’ve never been inside.

But you start walking anyway, hoping to run into someone. You pass through some halls, a door every few feet which you assume are classrooms or bedrooms. Only some doors had a label, but there was one part of the hallway with an arch instead, so you turn into there, but it’s empty. Still, you step in, looking around in the dark. It was empty, and you immediately lost interest, turning back around too quickly as you collided with another person, their hands immediately moving to hold your arms and steady you.

“Hey watch it-” A deep voice comes from above you, and you look up to see deep brown eyes staring back down at you.

“I’m so sorry… Where can I find Xavier?” You ask quickly and step away from him, he seems to hold on for a moment longer, but he does let go.

“He’s probably in his office still.” His voice is softer now, and you swear you recognise him, but it was so dark you couldn’t be sure.

“Where uhm… where’s his office?”

“Are you new?”

“Kind of…” You lift your shoulders, and he turns around, you take that as a cue to follow him. Trailing close behind him as he turns and makes his way up some stairs, eventually stopping at a door with a plate on it that said “Professor Xavier.” Which is when you finally start to feel sick to your stomach, thinking maybe this isn’t the best idea. So as his hand lands on the door knob, your own hands shoot out and grip his forearm, stopping him immediately and he stares back down at him.

“I just uh… maybe… I think I’m actually just going to leave.” You tell him, removing your hands off of him and shoving them into your hoodie pocket. “Thank you though, I appr-”

The door opens, stopping you mid sentence, and you see Xavier standing at the door.

“Look who’s here.”He says, his voice tired but he stares at you in the dark, your face however illuminated from the light of his office.  “Oh, and you’ve already met Logan I see?” His head turns towards Logan, which you could now recognise as he also was glowing from the light of the office. It was Wolverine.

For someone who’s rumoured to be an asshole, he was pretty nice to show you to Xavier's office.

“Xavier… Hi.” You panic a little, your voice raising a few octaves as your fingers lace in front of you nervously.

“Finally decide to move in?”

“Move in?” Logan asks.

“Yes, I’ve been trying to get her to move in for a few months now.” He tells Logan, looking back over at you. “And what happened to your face, darling?” Xavier asks, his hand coming up to your face as he takes the hood of your hoodie off your head.

“I got into a bit of a fight…” You tell him. You knew he was talking about the massive bruise under your right eye. You’ve had a non-stop headache from it the last few days.

“It sucks you can’t heal yourself like you can heal others.”

“Yea, God's little way of hating me.” You tell him. You’ve always wondered why you can’t heal yourself. And it’s always triggered you.

“You have healing powers?” Logan asks. And you wonder why he was still there.

You nod.

“She does, and that’s why it’s dangerous for her outside of the mansion.” Xavier tells him, in a ‘I told you so’ sort of tone. “Which, I’m assuming, is why you’re here?”

You nod again. “Yea…” Your voice cracks a little, and you’re not sure why it was a sensitive subject for you, but it was.

“Well, lucky for you, I know you’ve been wanting to for the past few weeks, so I have a room already assigned for you.” A tear slips down your cheek. You didn’t deserve someone like Xavier. He cared more than anyone else could’ve possibly done. “The room should be done by Tuesday, so give it two days, I have Logan here and Scott working on it. Making it comfortable for you.”

“Oh I don’t need anything special really.”

“Y/N…” He growls, stepping towards you and placing his hands on your shoulders. “In your own home, you're sleeping on a blanket and your actual blanket is whatever you’re wearing. I can’t find it in me to give you just any room. So it will be nice, like the students have. A comfortable bed, pillows, blankets, and anything else you ask for.” His hands rub down to your biceps, squashing your baggy hoodie down. “You live here, so you’re family. Now until the room is finished, I have spare keys to my office, and I have a fold out couch, alright?” You hadn’t even realised the amount of tears that were falling from your cheeks until he wipes them away with his thumb.

You would actually be loved. You’d be around people that care about you.

“Do you have anything you need to grab from your place?” You shake your head, afraid to speak knowing your voice will break embarrassingly. “Okay, come on in and we’ll set up your couch, I’ll have Logan here give you a tour in the morning.” He tells you, gently placing his hand on your back as he led you into the office. “Good night Logan, just be here in the morning when I text you she’s awake.” You see Logan nod, then he walks away. You guess it was at least true that he wasn’t much of a talker.

You spend the next minute getting under blankets after Xavier presses a button next to the couch and you watch as it unfolds itself. You weren’t surprised in the slightest.

And the bed was comfortable, but you still struggle to sleep after the lights go out and Xavier leaves you, locking the door and heading to his room.

It all felt so unrealistic. Like you were in a dream. But you knew you were finally safe…

You’re not sure what time you wake up, but it was late in the morning. You only awoke because of the sound of a bell, and you remember the mansion was also used as a school. So you sit up, grabbing the phone that you had slept with in your back pocket.

It was already two in the afternoon, you had seriously slept in, and the office was empty, but the light shone through the closed curtains, showing little dust particles as they flew through the air and invaded your lungs.

You look to the foot of the bed, some clothes were neatly folded with a little note on it. You reach for the note first, taking the blankets off your body.

‘Here are some clean clothes. There’s a bathroom on the opposite side of the room if you’d like to clean yourself. Text this number when you are finished, saying you’re ready for your tour.”

It was sweet. He was always sweet to you, always bringing a smile to your face, even when it wasn’t that special. You always thought maybe he had bad intentions, like he also wanted you only for your powers, but everytime your eyes landed on him, that thought immediately left your brain.

You stand up, grabbing the clothes and looking at them. Plain black sweats and a baggy T-shirt with the Rolling Stones logo on the front. He apparently also knew you liked a baggy style. You take the clothes and go to the bathroom, deciding to just take a quick shower, just to rinse yourself off.

You start by taking off your hoodie, then you stare at yourself in the mirror. Your ribs adorned with bruises that were turning purple and blue, your pudgy skin looking like a canvas decorated with a dash of fucking pain.

As soon as you’re finished showering, you step out, drying your hair as much as you could before working on drying your body, being gentle when you dry over your bruises, staring at yourself in the mirror again when you’re finished. An enormous bruise still decorating your face. You looked kind of badass.

“Oh you’re awake.” You hear a voice enter the room, it was Xavier and you step out of the bathroom to meet him.

“Yea, hey, I used the shower so-”

“That’s fine, I really don’t mind. Have you messaged Logan?” He gets straight to the point and you assume he’s in a hurry.

“I haven’t.”

“Okay, if you’d like, he’s in the kitchen right now grabbing himself a drink, do you know the way?”

You nod, remembering being there last night. It should be even easier to find now that the sun is up.

“Alright, let me know if he gives you any troubles, he’s a hardass.” He chuckles and you smile a little, slipping your slides on which were next to your bed before telling Xavier bye and leaving him to be in his office, quickly making your way down to the kitchen.

You lose your way so quickly it wasn’t even funny. Stopping as soon as the halls feel unfamiliar. There was no one around again of course, just like last night. So you just keep walking, once again hoping to run into someone.

You swear as you realise you’ve come across just about anything except the kitchen. There was a training room, classrooms, bedrooms, a restroom, and even a fucking gaming room. But you couldn’t find the damned kitchen. Until you hear a beeping sound. Like a microwave, to which you immediately follow the sound.

“There you are.” Logan greets you with a smile that would brighten up anyone's world.

“Got lost…” You admit, mumbling your words slightly.

“Everyone gets lost when they first move here.” He tells you, putting a milk jug back into the fridge. “I made you something to eat, figured you’d be hungry.”

You step into the kitchen, you weren’t hungry. You were famished.

“Oh thank you…” Your voice sings sweetly as you see the bowl of food, it was lunch time already, so in the bowl was ravioli. Simple, but easily one of your favourite foods.

“Of course.” He watches as you take the bowl, and another person walks into the room.

“Hey Logan, how’s it going? Is this the new girl?” She asks immediately. She knew about you already?

“Yea, her name is Y/N, Xavier seems to like her.”

“Well hi, my name is Vincent, you can call me Vin though. My friends call me Vin. And I know we just met, but you seem cool, so you can call me Vin, it’s nice to meet you! Xavier talks about you ALL the time.” She fills your brain with words, half of which you really don’t give a fuck about. Something in you already didn’t like her. But to be fair, you had the same feeling last night before you ran into Logan. So your instinct might just be fucked up. “Good God girl, and what happened to your eye?”

“It’s personal.” You tell her quickly, your instinct taking control of your lips instead of your empathy or friendliness.

“Oh…” She pauses for a moment. “Sorry…” She apologises, but you know you hear some spite in her voice as her teeth grit. Well sorry if you didn’t wanna share your personal stories with some girl you’ve never seen before.

“Well, I have to give her a tour, so I will see you later, Vincent.” He puts an emphasis on her name, then puts a hand on your back at the same time you stuff a thicker ravioli in your mouth, making you cough a little but they don’t notice as he leads you out of the room. That wasn’t the best first interaction.

He takes you through every hall, not spending much time anywhere, but spending enough time for you to remember what the rooms looked like. You tell him the only places you need are the library, and your room. He also brings you to your room actually, but he explains how he can’t open it at this hour, since Scott has the key to the room. Then he takes you to where his room is.

“And I’m right here.” He tells you, stopping at his door.

“Jesus this place is huge.” You breathe out heavily. You wouldn’t know all the halls for at least an entire year.

“Yea, but most students only have to learn three or four rooms, two of them being the kitchen and their own room.” He explains and watches you as you take a deep breath, feeling a little more relaxed now that you could navigate a little better through the halls.

“Hey, it ain’t that bad. Once you get used to it, maybe make some friends. There are some good kids here.” He tells you, but his voice lowers and he sighs when he brings up making friends. You just assume he hasn’t made any.

“Well thank you so much for the tour.” You smile your best. “I usually do keep my group very small though.” A chuckle comes from your throat as he stares down at you, his eyes burning into yours.

“Of course. And having a small group is always better than a huge one. Less to worry about.”

“Yea no kidding.” He laughs a little, and it makes you smile, just knowing that you can make someone, a man, who is hated by society, laugh.

“Is Xavier just keeping you locked up?”

“Uh for now yea, he wants to do a checkup though sometime this week.” You sigh, part of you wishing you had just dealt with the normal outside world. “Just to make sure I’m okay, I guess he’s worried I’m hurt more than I’m letting him know.”

“Well it is a damned big bruise on your face.” He tells you, then reaches up to your face, his thumb gently stroking over your bruise, his touch soft enough for it to not hurt.

And also somehow comforting.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You chuckle a little, and he’s confused at what’s funny as he stares down at you, his hand still cupping your cheek.

“There’s a video on it, I can send you the link later.”

“You have my number?” He asks and lets go of you, presumably reaching for his phone.

“Yea, Xavier gave it to me.” You tell him, and he crosses his arms.

“Alright, I guess I’ll watch it later. Is there anything else you wanna know? Anything you need to tell me?” You shake your head, not wanting to bother him anymore through the day. “Alright. You know the way back to Xavier's office?” You nod, confidently.

“Yea, and thank you so much.” You take a step back, beginning to walk away.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything, Xavier is usually busy.”

“Okay, thank you. See you later- or- tomorrow?”

“See you.”

You don’t get back to the office until later, you spend the next few hours just sitting outside and relaxing next to a tree until the sun starts to set, mainly because you didn’t want to intrude in Xaviers office the entire day while he was working or busy.

So when you do get back, you take off your shoes and collapse on the bed, groaning into your pillow before taking out your phone and opening YouTube.

You scroll mindlessly for a while, occasionally giggling at something you found funny, then a message notification pops onto your screen.

Unknown number: About to head to bed, do you need anything?

You assume it’s Logan, he’s the only one you’ve spoken to all day, so to check it you take the little note from this morning and verify it’s his number.

You: Don’t need anything. I’m looking for the video right now though.

You respond, then go back into YouTube as you type ‘Mutant attack New York,’ into the search bar. Your video is the most recent to pop up, and you copy the link before sending it to Logan. Then you go back to the video to close out of it, but it starts playing the moment you move back to the app.

“Panic breaks loose as another Mutant is attacked in public. Witnesses say that the Mutant was the first to attack but recorded camera footage shows otherwise as a young female Mutant attempts to defend herself against three men, and the following footage shows her struggle as she manages to get away”

The woman on the video disappears as the video enlarges a video of you, standing and minding your business as you wait for a bus home. In the back you can hear cars driving by, until you can hear one skid to a stop. You head looking up from your phone as three men exit their car, each of them wearing a mask and quickly approaching you.

The audio doesn’t catch it as one of the men speaks up, asking you to just go with them so they aren’t using force, and in the background an old woman's attention is caught before you start telling the men off. Then there’s the punch that leaves you a bruise after telling them to fuck off. Knocking you back against the frame that covers the bus bench as the other two try to grab you, but you manage to meekly fight back, adrenaline soaring through your body, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten away. Of course, the pepper spray you pull out also played a key factor in getting away, at least from two of the men. The only thing the video doesn’t show is what you had to go through with the last man that chased after you as you got away. Even if it did, it would be too violent for the news. You were glad it wasn’t on recording.

“None of the men have been identified, and neither has the woman. It is not uncommon however to find Mutants who have escaped the system. If you have any details on the mission, please call the number below to reach this news channel's service. Thank you, and have an amazing Friday.”

After it’s done playing, you sit there biting your lip as you try not to cry, another text coming in from Logan.

Unknown number: I’m sorry that happened to you, it’s ridiculous.

You: It’s alright. By the way do you have any pictures of yourself so I can change your icon?

You ask as you begin to fill in the information for his number.

Logan: I don’t. Sorry.

You: It’s alright, I’ll take one while you aren’t looking.

Logan: Fine by me lol, just make sure you get my good angle.

‘Every angle is your good angle,’ is what you wanted to send, but you quickly delete the message before another one comes in from him.

Logan: And Y/N.

Logan: You’re safe here. Know that if you ever need somebody to talk to, anyone to cry to, or just a shoulder to lean on, I will be there for you.

You: Thank you, Logan. I appreciate you.

Logan: Of course darling. Good night.

You: Good night 😁

[sickficideas]

Hello it’s me Rui again! You’ve been so good to me recently for absolutely no reason at all but your own kindness. But I’m here to share some sickfics with you and the wonderful lurking community that looks at your page. 

In my opinion, I think that finding good bsd sickfics is actually really hard. So many of them are too short, not enough buildup, emit enough suffering… you get the idea. I tend to find that sickfics are best (in my opinion) when there is good buildup and absolute suffering that then elicits care :]

I have 411 (mainly soukoku) bookmarks, that vary between hurt/comfort and sickfics. (Most are hurt/comfort because sickfics that I like are hard to find). I’ve spent an unholy amount of time going through thousands of bsd fics to find satisfactory sickfics, and I thought I’d share them here for anyone else who struggles finding them <3

Mainly focusing on emeto fics for this blog because that’s what the central topic here is lol. I hope you enjoy some of my stash! If you end up liking it, maybe I can share my larger stash of hurt/comfort. I wish this category wasn’t so sparse.

» Nothing || Fraink5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365941

A sadder fic with a bit less emeto. TW for major character death. I know it’s not exactly emeto, but it has its moments, and I find that this short little fic provides some of the same things that standard emeto fics do. Definitively worth the read if you’re in the right headspace for character death.

» Nebulous || way1203 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/37985296

Beautiful Chuuya sickfic oneshot. It’s about the aftermath of corruption. There’s a lot of delirium, sometimes it is hard to suspend my disbelief, but I still enjoy this one a lot.

» You’re a Canary, I’m a Coal Mine || PlayRough - https://archiveofourown.org/works/37985296

One of the more popular bsd sickfics writers, but I found myself needed to include this fic. It is quite long, but it’s basically just Dazai suffering from sickness and Chuuya assisting him. I’m ashamed to say this has become one of my bedtime stories.

» surely i’ll go bite the dirty dust || lizzielovessharks - https://archiveofourown.org/works/36533236

I can confidently proclaim this as one of the most criminally underrated bsd sickfics I’ve ever had the honour of discovering. Chuuya and Dazai are severely injured after a mission, Chuuya can hardly walk, and he’s sick. They just get so tormented but there’s so much comfort in this short and sweet fic. The ending always makes me smile, and I find myself coming back to this one very often.

» In Sickness and In Heath || TheShortestAlchemist - https://archiveofourown.org/works/48006802

Chuuya taking care of Dazai :]

Less emeto but still provides much comfort for the soul. 

» I’ll Take Care of You || Anonymous - https://archiveofourown.org/works/49949443

Sorry this one isn’t emeto either… but it’s chuuya being torment by Arahabaki so much that he gets a migraine that renders him unable to do anything. Still fulfills many sickfics desires.

» Poisoned Valentine || Wolf___Spirit - https://archiveofourown.org/works/53768785

Someone tries to send Chuuya home with poisoned chocolates with the intent to kill. However Dazai ends up eating them first, thus causing him to endure a lot of pain. (Read this honestly it’s wonderful)

» Burning Out || Trinity_of_Madness - https://archiveofourown.org/works/18899161

Long term corruption side effects… that’s all I’m gonna say. Take it or leave it as you see fit :] (it’s very fluffy, however it is quite bittersweet in case that’s not what you’re looking for)

» crimson headache, aching blush || kaiunkaiku - https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344119

More post corruption. Chuuya really needs a hug. He gets one. (Recommend reading lol)

» Underwater || TheGreatCatsby - https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344119

I’m so sorry. Not as much of a sickfic, but gosh it has to be one of my favourite comfort oneshots to ever exist. Chuuya does have a small emeto moment though. Ahhhh I’m so sorry for getting off track in these recommendations, I just have so many 🪦

» A Joyless Ride || calmlb - https://archiveofourown.org/works/55224694

This one is beautiful. I personally love the motion sickness Dazai headcannon. And this does a perfect job at demonstrating it. Dazai and Chuuya are on a mission, but they have to escape via Chuuya’s motorcycle. Dazai gets motion sickness that Chuuya had not considered.

» on standby for you || lonelydoctors - https://archiveofourown.org/works/48558496

Chuuya is hit with a virus ability and Dazai has to take care of him while he suffers. I really enjoyed this one. 

» Flashover || affectropia - https://archiveofourown.org/works/35640841

Bittersweet concept that is the reason behind this fic being a sickfic. However, it has a fluffy ending, and is only the care taking half of it. 

» beating drums and piping flutes - as they play the rain will fall || saanoir

This fic has to be another criminally underrated one. It’s the insomniac Dazai headcannon, except he starts feeling badly. All alone, he remembers a promise him and Chuuya made years ago. Hurt, even more comfort.

» I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks || huntersserenity - https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219268

Chuuya has a drink poisoned. He is disoriented and not very functioning, but Dazai is there to assist him like he always is. (Very good, underrated, highly highly recommend)

Andd that’s all I got for now! Aside from another wonderful writers works that I didn’t include. Their username is ringingmaybelles and they make very very quality sickfics. Definitely read their work if you want the best there is to offer.

I’m sorry for the long list, I hope it is helpful/enjoyable. Sorry to come back and bother you with this essay. Thank you for letting me share these for the fellow sickfic enjoyers 😭😭😭

(Apologies in advance for the links not working I’m sorry ahh, you’d have to put it into your browser qwq)

RUI!!! You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this for us 💖💖💖 hehehe...you're so sweet🙈🙈

I know a lot of people on this blog loooove SKK as well, and you've included many sick Chuuya fics here which I find more difficult to come across...this hand selected list is so beautiful and I really appreciate all of the effort you went through to give this to us 🥺💖

It took me a little bit to get to this ask chronologically between all the asks in my inbox but here are clickable links compiled for everyone's ease, since tumblr asks took yours away hahaha!!

I've included short summaries from the fic's original summaries along with Rui's descriptions, but please head the warnings and tags on the fics themselves!

Enjoy and share with fellow SKK sickfic enjoyers :))) I haven't read many of these and I'm so excited to dive in 🙏 let me know if any of the links are wrong so I can fix them, and if any of these authors see this and want to be tagged on tumblr ;)

Nothing by Fraink5

"Chuuya wakes up with a terrible fever--except he can't stay awake. Dazai is determined to keep Chuuya from losing consciousness, but how long will it last?"

Nebulous by way1203

"Chuuya struggles with the aftermath of using Corruption too many times and Dazai helps him through it."

You're a Canary, I'm a Coal Mine by PlayRough

"Super self indulgent Dazai sickfic."

surely i'll go bite the dirty dust by lizzielovessharks

" "Come on Chuuya," He muttered quietly as they felt themself having to pull Chuuya harder and harder to keep up, "Just a little bit further." -- or more Chuuya angst :) "

In Sickness and In Health by TheShortestAlchemist

"Dazai is sick and Chuuya takes care of him like the loving bf he is~"

I'll Take Care of You by toucheslikethesun

"Dazai walks into the ADA to find a desperate and distressed Chuuya looking for him, haunted by Arahabaki and having been unable to sleep for a long time."

Poisoned Valentine by Wolf__Spirit

"On Valentine's Day, Dazai steals and eats some chocolates that were given to Chuuya in the mafia. Turns out they were poisoned chocolates."

Burning Out by Trinity_of_Madness

" “Chuuya… We have to go…” Dazai whispered and pulled him up unwillingly. -- Chuuya held his hand, followed his guide with his usual smile on his face. Dazai’s chest tightened painfully at the sight, and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling him into a tight embrace."

crimson headache by kaiunkaiku

"the aftermath of corruption is its own kind of hell."

Underwater by TheGreatCatsby

"Chuuya has never liked water, but he never thought about why."

A Joyless Ride by calmlb

"Dazai hates motorcycles but right now he doesn’t have a choice. It does not go well"

on standby for you by lonelydoctors

"Chuuya gets hit by a virus ability and Dazai has to take care of him"

Flashover by affetropia

"Dazai tried again. Now, he gotta to deal with the pain, and Chuuya is there. He always is there when he needs."

beating drums and piping flutes - as they play the rain will fall by saanoir

"Dazai, in the midst of suffering another bout of insomnia, remembers a promise he made to Chuuya a long time ago -- to go to him when he's feeling bad."

I Think I'll Just Collaspe Right Here, Thanks by huntersserenity

" ‘ ‘Samu,’ Chuuya groaned. ‘Wanna take a nap.’ -- ‘You can’t nap right now, darling,’ Dazai said." "

The end 🏁 Enjoy!!

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Pricklywhicket/@messessentialist ! Prickleywhicket has four fics published to AO3 -- All in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by pricklywhicket:

so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey

it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)

start by pulling him out of the fire

"Sadie is so super talented in the way she describes literally everything. She is so good at writing and it's a shame that she's flown under the radar because she's not the quickest at putting things out there." -- Anonymous

Below the cut, Pricklywhicket answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Why do any of us write anything? Because we want the story to exist in the world, and it doesn’t yet, so we gotta hike up our pants and do it ourselves!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Hurt/Comfort. I’m always a sucker for the blorbos taking care of one another, in whatever form that takes. This has always been true, across a truly astronomical number of fandoms I’ve found myself dabbling in over the years.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

…actually, probably hurt/comfort! I just need to get those little dudes some validation and unconditional positive regard, okay?

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I’m sure I won’t be the first one to say this, but: I HAVE TO PICK ONE????? Okay, alright. I can do this. I’m gonna say…Sanctuary by SpicedSage.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve only written canon or canon-adjacent fic so far, so I’m eager to work on something that’s completely AU. I think there’s a unique challenge to keeping characters recognizable as themselves in a world that might not have all the same contexts that made them into that person.

What is your writing process like?

I would love to say it’s super organized and well-planned, but the truth is it’s mostly about routine and responsibility. I set aside time to do it every day, even if I can only tap out a few sentences. I’m not very strict about writing in a straight line - I can stop a scene if it’s giving me trouble, write a note about what I think happens in some [brackets], and move on to something that I have more fully fleshed-out ideas for. Sometimes writing the next scene helps you know more about what needs to happen in the current one. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I'm sure my betas would say yes 🙃 I tend to write a lot of dialogue - a lot of my revision process is going back through and realizing I have two pages of a conversation with no indication of what’s physically happening in the world around the speakers.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely when I’m finished. Prior to my ‘23 bang fic, I had never written anything chaptered. I knew going in that I could NOT start posting if it wasn’t finished, because I’ve been burned too many times by abandoned works. I didn’t want to do that to people reading my fic, and the best way to avoid it is to finish before you post.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Easily start by pulling him out of the fire. The biggest, most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted - I still kind of can’t believe I wrote 85k.

How did you get the idea for start by pulling him out of the fire?

Like most terrible ideas, it was spawned in a fandom discord chat. We were discussing the tendency of Steddie fics to centralize the party at Steve’s house, because his parents are never there anyway. And then someone mentioned what if the parents came home and found their house occupied, and someone else mentioned Wayne being there, and it just sort of…spiraled out from there.

When writing start by pulling him out of the fire, what was something you didn’t expect?

I had no idea, going in, that I was going to write a comprehensive history of the Wayne and Eddie Munson relationship. I started writing it where I did to give some background on Wayne’s existing distaste for the elder Harrington, and then I just…kept writing. Over the course of a month or two I wrote 20k of WayneAndEddie that I had no idea was in me - it just kept coming.

What inspired it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

@wynnyfryd. It was a gift for her birthday. We were talking about our mutual love of Letterkenny, and she mentioned that the episode was her favorite and wouldn’t it be funny if someone wrote… and the rest is history.

What was your favorite part to write from it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

I had an unreasonable amount of fun with that one in general. But I think my favorite part was Eddie polling the party about what Steve means to them all. It was fun to sort of put myself in each character’s shoes and think about how they would answer. Plus y’know, any excuse to unironically love on Steve Harrington.

How do/did you feel writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey?

I believe my exact words upon deciding to write it were “jingles miserably to a blank google doc.” This was a classic case of saying “god I wish there was a fic where—” and having friends tell me that it was now my responsibility to write it. I’m glad I did, though. I love that story, and it proved to me that I could write sex and publish it and not burst into flames. I also just really, really love summer storms. And Wayne’s use of the singular ‘herpe.’

What was the most difficult part of writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats honey?

Getting over the fear of publishing something E-rated. It was just something I hadn’t done, and I had a lot of anxiety that people were not going to respond well to it. I made three people individually review the sex scenes before I even asked anyone to beta the full fic. Of course I was worried for nothing, the reception for that fic was super lovely and gave me the confidence boost I needed to attempt start by pulling him out of the fire!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’ll say this: most of my favorite lines in start by pulling him out of the fire were taken directly from conversations @wormdebut and I had about the fic. She’s my number one cheerleader and sounding board, and sometimes she’s so goddamn funny that I just have to include it. You have her to thank, for instance, for Steve quite literally dropping his croissant when he first sees Eddie in glasses.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I have a couple of irons in the fire, but nothing I’m ready to share just yet! I’ve been taking a breather from writing (blame baldur’s gate 3, okay) but my WIPs are still very much IP. Stay tuned!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Not that I can think of!

Thank you to our author, Pricklywhicket, and our anonymous nominator! See more of pricklywhicket's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hii! First off I absolutely adore your writing and I'm super excited for your upcoming fics, but I was wondering what are your favorite go-to fics (by other authors) that you want to read again and again?

Hello, love!

I did this once, but I can’t seem to find the post (go figure) so I’m happy to do it again. ❤️ I actually have a folder on my Kindle titled Comfort Fics and these are what’s in there. (I also have a bunch of fics from the same authors, but I thought it best to rec one per author. Check out their other stuff if you haven’t already.)

Most Re-Read Fic

🏈 Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante

This fic has, without a doubt, my most favorite version of Louis ever written. But more than that, I think that this is just a very nostalgic fic for me, because it was released about six months into me falling into the fandom, and so it kind of reminds me of that time where I was discovering fics and fandom and Larry for the first time. I feel like whenever I go back to it, it feels like that slice of time all over again. Epitome of a comfort fic.

Snack Fic Re-Read

🌬️Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou

This is just the most perfect single-sitting fic ever. It has everything you need to feel like you’ve read something full and all consuming. I’m a really big fan of the romantic build up, and I love that this has that, even in what is technically an established relationship trope. Love, love, love.

Fave Bedtime Re-Read

🕊️ Counting the Steps Between Us by zarah5

I keep crawling back to this fic like a long lost lover. It’s just written in such a way that hits the spot every time, with the perfect amount of tension and storytelling for you to feel like you’ve earned it by the time they get together.

Best Smut Re-Read

🫦 Hike Up Your Skirt (and Show Your World to Me) by Brooklyn_Babylon / @twopoppies

When this was being written, I told @twopoppies that it was going to overthrow Are You Gonna Be My Girl? by LoadedGunn as my holy grail smut fic and I wasn’t wrong. I mean… this fic’s reputation precedes it. It just gets the job done in the most delicious, dark, dirty way. I get that the themes might not be for everyone, but it’s definitely for me. If you’re specifically looking for something that can only be described as delectable debauchery, you’ve found it. (Read the tags!)

Specific Mood Re-Read

🪐 Saved Tonight by Anonymous*

Harry's the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis' biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

This fic is just really, really special to me. It’s soft in the most weird and wonderful way, and I’ve not found another fic that makes me feel the way this does. I think the best way to describe this is that it’s a fic that envelopes you in such a specific setting that you find yourself going back to it to live in that place for a little while.

*The author has since taken it down, and I don’t know by what username they prefer to go by, so I just listed it as Anonymous.

A/B/O Re-Read

🐺 Where You Lay by HamPalpert

When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

A/B/O is my most favorite trope ever, but because there are a lot of different permutations of the “rules”, it’s often hard for me to find an A/B/O fic that includes everything I really really really love about the trope. This is that fic for me.

Best Soft Re-Read

🎵 Make Your Words A Weapon by HelloAmHere / @helloamhere

The way Harry is written in this fic is everything to me. This fic is soft in the most lovely way, and there’s something so healing in the way it discusses trauma without ever sacrificing the romance in the fic. This has a piece of dialogue that I think about nearly monthly, but I won’t share it cause I want you to experience it for yourself first.

Holy Grail Re-Read

⏳my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach

Let me start off by saying this fic is an investment, but Jesus is it worth it. This is just the most unique blend of canon and Larry lore ever, and it just does it so, so perfectly. If you’re looking for a fic that will make you see Larry’s love story as the most perfect insider version of it ever, this is the fic. It’s so good that I never want to read/watch the original Time Traveler’s Wife. As far as I’m concerned, this is the original. (Don't forget to read the companion piece feel myself fall, make a joke of it all.)

Honorable Mentions

(I haven’t re-read these yet only because I feel like I’ve just finished them and I’m giving myself some time to miss them so much that it feels like the first time all over again.)

🗽 Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo

An exes-to-lovers for the ages. This fic is painfully beautiful, and there’s something about these characters that have stood (and will continue to stand) the rest of time. I think this is a gorgeously mature fic that deals with the complexities of love and romance in a way that’s rare. This is one of the most realistic depictions of Harry and Louis that feels true to who they are in every era.

🦋 of the divine by @thedevilinmybrain

Harry in this is literally ethereal, but also, the way the romance is layered over religious themes is just done in such a fulfilling and delicious way. I love fics that manage to marry such specific knowledge with a story that’s still romantic and wildly sexy. This is a journey, and just thinking about it makes me want to pick it up immediately.

[blank-slate-jay]

first time doing this so yeah

sort of snowy vibe where reader manages to defend himself and kill a bear but not without getting injured

joel's out there for whatever reason you like and sees the whole thing, basically feels obligated to help this random stranger because it wouldn't sight right with him to leave them bleeding out in the snow? he like patches the wounds n stuff

loved the secret admirer one and i saw the post so i thought id give this a go! sorry if its weird

Heal My Wounds, Heal My Heart

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count:2.6k

Tags: Comfort, Injury, Blood, Soft!Joel, Nightmares, mention of alcohol, mention of death

A/N: Not weird at all Anonymous, thanks for the request! I actually learned more about bear behavior writing this funny enough. Glad you liked one of my previous fic, hope you take a liking to this one. Enjoy!

Shots rang out between your heavy grunts and the growls of the rageful mammal. You had stepped into its territory, not purposefully and completely unbeknownst to you. You were just trying to get by, just trying to find a safe place to rest before dark. Everything was peaceful up till that point until you were faced with a bear, a fairly aggressive one that charged at you. 

Seeing it afar, you were obligated to turn around and leave its sight. The moment it saw you, it was instantly startled by your presence, halting its interest in catching any food near the lake and standing on its hind legs.

It was likely scared, as the bear itself wasn’t very large, likely still in its earlier years. Maybe the young mammal was just gonna watch as you walked back into the woods, but no. It charged at you, either threatened by you or perhaps desperate for any source of meat. 

Intentions didn’t matter, the animal was charging you down and you took shots at it. They weren’t as effective as you thought, the small bullets looked as if they barely fazed it. What didn’t help was your shaking hands, after running out of bullets, you needed to reload. You groan, making a split second decision to just run. Fighting a bear head on, would make for a cool story if the odds weren’t stacked in your favor. Not to mention you needed to actually survive the encounter to tell the tale, which wouldn’t be likely if you tried being a badass. 

Your steps clashed with the snow below, attempting to run as fast as you could. The snow wasn’t deep, rather thin enough to see the grass still sticking out. Running proved to be effective, adrenaline kicking into high gear. You didn’t know how long you ran, just focusing on finding any way to ensure safety. In the back of your head, you knew it was just something to give you comfort in this hopeless situation, nothing was gonna save you from this other than your own wit or luck. 

Unfortunately your tactic wasn’t good enough cause you felt a sharp pair of claws strike your back. You scream out, falling into the harsh ground with a thud, the blades of the greenery engulfed your face. 

With your face in the ground, you knew this was it. Your end wasn’t going to be by a clicker, a horde or even a person; but an animal, definitely not something you expected would come to be. 

You groaned into the soil, anticipating its sharp teeth to sink in your skin. Even with the layer of clothes you had on, you were sure the bear would have no problem getting through. 

Everything felt like it was going in slow-motion, preparing for your last moments to be filled with growls from the beast. What came instead, was a gunshot. It sounded heavy, causing the bear to growl once more, turning its attention away from you. The heavy bullet pegged its neck before another hit its skull as it tried running. The mammal went down, collapsing a couple of feet away from your legs. 

Hearing nothing, other than your own quick breaths, had a sense of relief washing over you. You were saved from being mauled. But by who? The question repeats in your head becoming a lot more unsettling when realizing it was a person; a total stranger. Your condition only made you fearful as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. Looking up, you glance in the direction of the ever growing footsteps. A man, dressed in a thick brown coat, walked over to you with his weapon in hand. He stopped just beside you, making it hard to see his face. 

You mumble, “Help…please…”, seeing if the man was dangerous or not. Chances were he’d just put you out of your misery, after seeing what had transpired.  

He didn’t, the man pulls the strap of his weapon over his shoulder, and kneels down to you. The man looks you over, seeing the dark red slashes across your coated back. 

“Damn”, he murmured observing the long trail that went down your back. The beast got you good. He leans his hand into your shoulder, “Can you walk?”

“I think, yeah.” 

There was some doubt in your voice, but at least you were cohesive. The man would’ve taken any answer that implied you could function. “C’mon, you're not safe out here.” 

The man pulled you up until you were on your knees. He then gets in front of you, getting his hands under your arms, and yanking you to your feet. The whole process had you wincing. 

Finally standing you started to feel light-headed. You lean into the man, accidentally, feeling your balance becoming unsteady. You grapple onto his bicep to keep from falling. In turn the man grabs your sides, “Easy.”

It was difficult, with your head feeling like it was going to implode. The man then let out a whistle. You assumed it was for his horse, cause there was no way he was out walking aimlessly like you were. This man looked like he had himself situated compared to you. 

You waited, both hearing the sounds of the horses' hooves growing closer; along with a neigh. 

You looked back at the deceased bear, and then turned back to the man, who continued to hold you upright, “Thank you”. 

He nods. Although his face was mostly stone cold, there was a glint of concern behind his eyes. 

The horse had slowed its pace just outside the two’s reach. The man carefully walked you over, allowing you to lean your head into his shoulder. Strangely he didn’t seem to mind at all. He lets you take a second to put your weight into the horse, breathing out you try hoisting yourself up, failing with the pain. He had to help you onto the horse, before he himself got up into the front. 

Grabbing the reins, he looks over his shoulder, “Hold on, gonna be awhile.”

You do just that, wrapping your arms around his waist. He was off, taking you somewhere you weren’t sure of. Regardless of where, you were sure he had no bad intentions.

“What’s your name”, you asked.

He hesitates and doesn’t answer right away. You thought he might not have heard you, but he does indeed reply, “Joel.”

From there on you two remained silent throughout the ride, say for the occasional grunts that slipped out of you. You squeezed the man each time the sharpness increases, randomly. It made the ride agonizing to sit through, making the journey feel much longer.

The horse came to a slow stop near a small cabin. You don’t know where you were anymore, you’d had your eyes closed for most of the ride, and your mind was too focused on the pain. 

The man, Joel, got off the horse, helping you down and taking you into the house. He set you down onto the couch, careful not to touch your back. He steps away, removing both his jacket and going over to retrieve some supplies. 

Sitting on the couch you couldn’t help leaning forward as just across from you was a fire, a small one within the fireplace, it was enough heat to keep you from shivering.

Joel had returned with a bucket in hand, along with what looked to be a first aid kit. He sets the supplies down on the table just in front of the couch. "Arms up," he says.

You really didn't want to, but at the same time, you needed something to ease the pain. You lifted them up, gritting your teeth harshly. Joel had helped remove all your layers until you were completely shirtless. It felt strange being this exposed to someone you just met not even an hour ago.

His eyes lingered on you for a bit, observing features of you that weren't even freshly injured, He was supposed to be telling you to turn around, but it looked like he might've got distracted.

You reminded him of what he was about to do, by putting your back to him hoisting your one leg onto the couch while the other is placed on the floor. "How bad does it look?"

Your question got him back on track, causing him to furrow his brows at the sight. His hesitation to say was probably more telling than a response. The scratches were rather dark now, beginning to swell in some areas with strains of blood leaking down. "Pretty bad," he says, grabbing the rag from inside the bucket of water, "It looks like it might be getting infected."

"Oh great..." you comment, hearing the man squeeze the rag drag dry. His weight hit the couch behind you, causing you to shift while he scoots closer to you.

"Ready?"

You hummed, straightening up your posture. He didn't even give you another second after responding to prepare, the cold rag ran up one of the sharp trails, getting you to yelp. “Damn,” you whined, your fingers digging into the cushion.

“Thought you were ready,” the man says wiping away at all the red.

“And I’d thought you’d be more gentle.”

This got Joel to huff, amused by your retort. He ran another stroke across the next scratch. “Seems gentle ain’ suit you.” He noticed the other scars along your body, some overlapping the others. What stories were behind those, he wondered.

You raised your brow, gritting your teeth, “Why you say that?”.

He wanted to point out the old scars but refused, and that case he’d have to admit he was looking you over, “Not often you come across someone who travels alone. Usually people stick to groups. Seems odd you ain’ in one.”

“I get that a-lot, everybody I've run into thinks I'm a distraction. They believe I'm bait for a group, and that they'll jump out and kill them."

Joel knew that mentality well, after all he’s been on both sides of said scenario. It was haunting how many people he killed during those days, at least he now had a keen eye for when something like that was about to go down.

He hums. After rubbing off all the blood, he reaches over to the table again, pulling out a second rag, the used rag gets dumped into the bucket to rinse. Joel also opens up the first aid kit, pulling out a tiny container of alcohol. "I don't get that impression from you," the man assumes, poring a small bit of the liquor into the cloth.

"Really," you piped up carefully looking over your shoulder.

The man glares back at you. "Yeah, really."

The corner of your lips rose, at last someone wasn't accusing you of being a raider. From his relaxed voice, there wasn't much evidence to assume he was lying. The fact that he even thought about helping you should've been enough to disprove any suspicion. Although, saying your thoughts out loud would make you a hypocrite.

You couldn't trust everybody of course, but assuming everyone was untrustworthy wouldn't be of much advantage to you.

Joel finished patching you up, through applying alcohol, adding a couple of stitches, and bandaging the long scrapes; you could finally just relax. He had told you, you could stay and even offering to make a bed out of a couple of blankets. You thanked him and preferred to stay rested on the sofa where you had dosed off not long after.

You shook through the night, jerking and twitching each time you felt the cutting sensation run up your back. It made sleeping impossible, and the moment you did fall asleep, a nightmare was awaiting you inside your unconscious state. You dreamed of its claws, the jagged teeth, the crushing weight above you; playing the outcome of it tearing into you.

It felt real, too concrete, you could've swore the dream was reality, and you being saved was an outcome you made up in your head within the few seconds you had left to live.

You awoke to a slight brush run against your arm. You were still half seated in the sofa, only now leaning into the back cushion with one shoulder. You nearly jumped up at the sudden touch, thinking again you were still in the horrid dream. You couldn't be more relieved to see that it was just Joel, his figure looming in front of you.

"Hey," his voice comes out as a whisper.

For the first time you took a liking to the man's accent, the tenderness behind his vocals might just be the cure for your night terrors.

He continued to speak, "I heard you from the other room, sounded like a hustle out here," he explains, referring to your occasional grunts that rang out across the living room.

You realized what he was talking about, you flutter your eyes shut in humiliation, "Sorry," was all you could say. You felt obligated to explain yourself, to give him a good reason why you were causing a commotion. "Was having a bad dream. I'll try keeping it down, I-". It felt like a poor excuse but it was genuinely all you had to offer. Joel was understanding to your surprise.

"It's quite alright, I get those myself,” his face turning to a frown as he explained, with his thump stroking in rhythm on your skin.

The embarrassment, subsides, feeling a small connection with Joel. You didn’t expect someone, as gruff as he was to be disturbed by anything, let alone a passing dream. It didn’t make you doubt that his dreams were way worse then yours.

The older man breathes out, letting his hand slide off of your shoulder. No please, you thought, desiring his hands against your skin.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, but you grabbing his wrist cut him off. Both of you looked shocked, you more than him at your reflexes. You completely ignored the pain surging through your flesh, completely caught in a trans.

Your gazes tangled together, making your face feel flush. You look away and guide his hand towards your skin. His hands, massive in your grasp, fell once more into its previous position. Feelings of calmness and delight filled you again; just a strong as before.

It registers in Joel's mind, seeing how you reacted to him releasing his touch and the way your body relaxed reliving his warmth, that you enjoy it.

He decided to sit down next to you, this time in the direction you were facing, his touch never leaving your arm. The man wasn't tired anyway, lack of sleep just felt normal nowadays.

His fingers run long circles up and down your skin, getting a shaky breath out of you which managed to settle after a minute. No longer did your breath feel as if it was hitching your chest. His touch was sending small tingles all the way up your shoulder.

You started feeling your eyelids becoming heavy, becoming much harder to stay awake and savior how gentle the man was touching you. You could see through your blurred vision his head tilting in your direction from time to time, as he laid back into the cushion finding your skin comforting to caress.

You smirk thinking having some sort of company was his reason for rescuing you. With one eye peeled open you asked, "Did you save me just for this?" It was more of a drowsy joked than anything that slipped out.

He didn’t answer, he just kept his gaze focused on the wall ahead. Possibly even biting back the urge to smile. It was impossible to tell, with your ever darkening vision. You don’t know if you’ll get ab answer, most certainly not that night, and possibly never upfront. Still, the idea brought another smile to your face before drifting off into darkness.

[tadpolesonalgae]

whoahhh, wtf Mor. That was so low, no wonder Reader tried to delete herself lol. Those, to me, are the IC's true colors, talking specifically about the born fae ones. I feel like she's always seen right through them, and I feel so sad for her.

I like how you portray the IC not as a "big happy margerine ad family". It's realistic, not everyone is going to mesh extremely well with each other. I see that happen a lot on other fics, and it's refreshing tbh. Mor's attitude was a bit too far though, you don't say that to someone who literally attempted su*c*de 2 days ago?? Grow some SENSE, jesus christ. And you said it was going to be a happy chapter, I'm glad I didn't believe you for a second Tabherine 😭 (I was close to tears the entire time, and the ending just shattered me) At this point I just want her to patch things up with Az for closure and move on, go live somewhere else, 'cause man all of these interactions are torture. She deserves so much better, even if that means an eternity of solitude and puff pastry skin. great writing as always Tabby! I should've known I had a big storm coming when you posted two chapters so close to one another. (I wonder why Rhys was suggesting that Az is open for visitors?? Hmm.) ²(also-- I have a few guesses of what your govnmt name might be based on the nicknames but I'm not gonna say it because I'm a big believer of internet anonimity hehe) - 🥐

Thank you! I would really love to portray them as all getting along together because to be honest that would be so much easier than trying to show the problems between characters while also trying to keep it semi-believable? Like I don’t think I could have made Mor say something like “I’m glad you tried to kill yourself” because that’s just blatantly too far and way too ooc in my opinion 😭

‘And you said it was going to be a happy chapter, I'm glad I didn't believe you for a second Tabherine 😭’

It was a happy chapter!!!!! It just…went a bit downhill…at the end… 🫣👀 only slightly though!! Reader still got time with her sisters! And while Rhys was scary I don’t think he was mean or unkind? (Was he? He wasn’t supposed to be 🫣😭)

And reader and Nesta had a small connection at the end, as well as that whole expulsion of emotions and honesty with Feyre!

‘(I was close to tears the entire time, and the ending just shattered me)’

I’m so sorry! 😭🫂🫂🫂

‘At this point I just want her to patch things up with Az for closure and move on, go live somewhere else, 'cause man all of these interactions are torture.’

But wouldn’t it be fun if she managed to overcome all of it? Despite how hard she’s finding everything, and how desperately she’s struggling, wouldn’t it be kind of satisfying to see her stay and persist rather than trying to escape again? 🫢

Anyway, I’m hoping chapter 17 will have some moments—I’m hoping to start working on it tonight :)

‘(I wonder why Rhys was suggesting that Az is open for visitors?? Hmm.)’

Hmmm indeed 🫣 he probably just wants reader to tell Az what happened so he can find out 😤

Or maybe he just wants reader to have the chance to patch their relationship on their own 🫢👀

‘²(also-- I have a few guesses of what your govnmt name might be based on the nicknames but I'm not gonna say it because I'm a big believer of internet anonimity hehe)’

I appreciate your consideration for internet anonymity—I do enjoy it a lot also—however Tabby doesn’t share a single letter with my actual government name, so you are more than welcome to guess away 👹🧡💛

‘great writing as always Tabby! I should've known I had a big storm coming when you posted two chapters so close to one another.’

Thank you so much! 😭🫂🧡💛

I hope it wasn’t awfully sad (I promise I tried to make it happy 😭)

[enhaheeseung]

first you wanna complain about how only your smut fics blow up and normal fics don't get recognition. about how tumblr audience is one track minded. as if you're entitled to people liking all the shit you put out.

and now you want validation for your fic which has underage heeseung smut???

yk what? fuck you. you're a horrible, horrible, disgusting human being. to even think of an actual human being like this. and pair it with your mental breakdown about some random as fic of yours not getting enough notes. kys. pls im begging you.

1) NO you absolutely cannot write about underage heeseung having sex with a much older woman. it is disgusting, perverse and paedophilic.

2) people didn't like that fic of yours because your writing is shit.

Trigger warning proceed with caution⛔️

I’m going to address everything cause I will not have you coming on here and accuse me of such nasty things

First I never said I was entitled to people liking my fics I just made it clear that there’s a huge difference between nsfw and sfw and that it would be nice if everyone got the same recognition for putting in the same amount of work also I don’t know what you mean by “normal” fics

Never even once said I wanted validation I asked for opinions on the topic because I want to avoid making anyone uncomfortable I want to get this very clear so I’m not looked at in any different type of light

And incase no one saw it that particular idea about the underage fic is absolutely 100% true but it was for plot purposes only and I never intended to go in to detail about it furthermore I don’t even have anything written yet and upon seeking other opinions I decided to change it

I’m just Gonna say I have no idea what mental breakdown you’re even talking about at this point so I’ll move on from that quickly

It was never about notes to begin with it’s about people not getting recognition that they deserve for putting in hard work into everything they write writers have actually left because of this topic alone but I’m not going to get into all that right now cause it will be hard for you to understand

I’m not writing about underage heeseung nor am I posting anything like that to my page

Once again I have no idea what fic you’re even talking about

All that aside if I offended you I apologize greatly I have a tendency to joke around about things in a harsh manner but in the end I wouldn’t even be able to have a voice or opinion if it wasn’t for all my lovely beautiful followers I love you all for sticking with me and I hope none of this change’s your perception of me

Whoever you are once again I do sincerely apologize for any misunderstanding I might have caused between us thank you for your opinion and I’ll be careful with my words from now on so this doesn’t happen again

I’d strongly advise you to not go around spreading hate messages or slandering other peoples blogs with such things i understand you’re upset with the things I did but that is definitely not warrant for you to tell me to commit the s word nothing is and these types of asks could be really harmful to others personally I’m not bothered by them but others could be so please be careful

I think I addressed everything so if anyone else has questions for me please just shoot an ask my way without all the hate I never wanted my blog to be muddy up the way it is but I’m partly responsible for it so it is what it is I’m not looking for sympathy if I did something wrong lay it on me but all I ask is for you to use logic

So I think that’s all once again thanks to all my followers I love you all you’ve been real I’ll do my best not to cause anymore unnecessary drama I just want my blog to be a safe place for everyone to simp over hee

Anonymous whoever you are I’m sorry you feel this way towards me but I hope we can get past this now stay safe and I love you❤️

Ps if anyone thinks I’m not being sincere I could have just deleted this ask but I’m addressing this cause I want to grow and learn from MY mistakes and spread awareness

Thanks for taking time to read I hope everyone has a good day/night

[queenimmadolla]

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 Summary: After four long years of pining, it's high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there's no better time for love confessions than Valentine's Day. If only you hadn't chosen to do so anonymously, because you're pretty sure he's hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff a/n: I did way too much for something that was supposed to be 2.k word count wise, and is definitely going to flop because of how late I'm posting it but I don't care because it is still technically Valentine's Day. A HUGE thank you to @kitmon for being my incredible beta-half (get it?) and if you like slow burns (and I mean the best ‘GET TOGETHER ALREADY but also please take your time really finding and understanding each other’ fics), go devour their masterlist. Happy reading and Happy Valentine's day ♡ word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

  “Are you stalking him again?”

  You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

  “Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

  But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

  “I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

  “Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. 

  “I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

  Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

  “No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

  Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking. 

  “Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

  Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

  Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

  Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

  Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

  So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time. 

  Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

  The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you. 

  You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

  “Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

  “How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

  “I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

  Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

  “No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

  Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

  “That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

  You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. 

  “Can you leave this on his desk?” 

  “Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

  God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

  “And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

  The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them. 

  She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

  “Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

  “Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

  “Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

  “No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything. 

  You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

  Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

  What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

  Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

  Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.  

  During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place. 

  You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so. 

  You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

  This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

  The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there. 

  The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then. 

  The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

  Yeah, simple as that.

  You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper. 

  You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

  Just write on the paper.

  Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

  You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

  —

  Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

  When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

  Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him. 

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

  He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

  He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous.  He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around. 

  He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

  Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

  He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

  He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking. 

  The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

  The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

  He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

  The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately, Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared. 

  By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public. 

  He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

  “Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

  Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

  “Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

  The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

  Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

  Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

  Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance. 

  “Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

  Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

  Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

  “I swore.”

  Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump. 

  “Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

  Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

  Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

  ── 

  Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

  You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

  Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

  Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

  “Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich. 

  “No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

  “Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone. 

  Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note. 

  “Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

  Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

  You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

  After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

  You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

  ─

  Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table. 

  His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, were on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

  “Eddie?”

  His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

  “Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

  She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

  “On the house.”

  “Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

  “Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

  Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

  Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

  “Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

  Was she playing coy?

  “Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

  Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

  “That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

  Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

  “I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

  Chrissy, glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

  “It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

  Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

  Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him. 

  “So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

  Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

  “Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

  He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

  “‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

  He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

  “It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.” 

  Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there. 

  He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

  And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies. 

  “Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis. 

  He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down. 

  “She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

  “I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

  She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

  “Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

  He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

  Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

  He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

  It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

  The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

  The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

  Eddie,

  Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

  Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real. 

  She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

  I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

  Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

  I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the younger classmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it). 

  And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying. 

  But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should. 

  You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel. 

  So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

  Love,

  What the fuck?

  Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

   There was no name.

  “NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

  This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear. 

  His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose. 

  The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

  “Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

  Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular. 

  “Byers. Where’s Byers?”

  “His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness. 

  It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

  He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards. 

  He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

  “Is this yours?”

  Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

  “No.” Then he walked out.

  Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

  His secret admirer’s pen.

  “What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

  The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party. 

  It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

  Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme. 

  He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

  Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author. 

  Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door. 

  Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection. 

  He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

  Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  ─

  Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were. 

  Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party. 

  You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

  Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

  You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

  You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

  He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

  And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

  “I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.” 

  Try devastated.

  “You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

  “You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

  “That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

  You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it. 

  But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

  You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

  It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

  “Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

  “You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you. 

  “Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

  You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

  “Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him. 

  Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

  “Ah, I see. Is he here?”

  You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

  “Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

  “No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

  Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

  “That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

  “Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

  Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

  Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

  “Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

  “I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

  “Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

  “Because I have no idea who she is.”

  Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

  “What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

  “Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

  Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

  Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

  “Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

  “Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

  Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that. 

  “I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

  He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

  You frowned down at him. 

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Hello. 

  Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

  You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

  He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

  “Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.” 

  Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

  “Is that my pen?”

  “Huh?”

  “My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked. 

  When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

  Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

  “What?” 

  He finally blinked, licking his lips again. 

  “You’re a really good liar.”

  “What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

  His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

  “This is your pen?”

  “Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

  “This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

  “Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

  He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

  And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

  “That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

  When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

  You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

  Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

  “Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

  You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public. 

  “I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

  “What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?” 

  You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack. 

  “Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

  “Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?” 

  “No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

  “Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

  “It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

  “Is Eddie looking for you?”

  “Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken. 

  “He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then why would he be looking for you?”

  You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. 

  “I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger. 

  Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

  He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

  Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

  Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

  He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle. 

  Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

  The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you. 

  It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

  He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

  Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

  “Hi, again.”

  You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

  Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

  “Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

  “You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

  “It’s only fair right? Since I know?”

  You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

  Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

  Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

  He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

  “I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it. 

  “I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

  Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

  “And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

  Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

  “I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you. 

  “And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath. 

  There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

  And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions. 

  He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

  You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

  He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

  This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

  “Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

  Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

  The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

  Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

  “You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

  You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

  “They’re not the only ones.”

  Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— 

You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did. 

  Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear. 

  “I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

  “Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

  You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated. 

  With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

  Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

  “Like ‘em?”

  You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

  “Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

  “I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

  You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

  Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

  “Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

  “Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

  “For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

  Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

  ‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

  “He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

  “Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

  “That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses. 

  “. . .  You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

—

  Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.  

[sonderthroughthestreets]

sorry for coming only now to tell you this but with classes it's not easy. so so where do i start jsjsj.... More than a feeling has completely my heart. indeed i finished it, right down to the last update and just let me tell you that it was a pure delight from start (yes) to finish! what i didn't tell you is abt the last two chapters ohalalala what emotions!

this chap 3 is a bit like the decisive chap that will change everything, already with their conversation abt if they already loved, for the first time they talked about their feelings, they were really taking small pinches, a lot of innuendo, bc they were talking about each other i can’t and the "can i kiss you ?" at the end was really revealing of sander's feelings for robbe and robbe answering him “yes”, ahhhh please stop and talk to you really. i also really like how supportive sander is, how he is there for robbe, listening to his feelings, helping him find his therapist, i love seeing that they can always count on each other no matter what. finally it's sander's turn to really ask robbe if he wants to continue this way (and no longer robbe as before with these multiple questions of innuendo), this kiss really made sander realize that he couldn't act like this anymore, that he really wanted more than this friends with benefits and at the end he tells robbe that he loves him. the way i screamed when i read this, my brain went error 404, it's really happening!! how can you end this chapter like this? omg this cliffhanger! hope you had posted chap 4 so early bc i know i wouldn't have survived, i'll be here every day thinking abt it lol, little thought for those who waited (or not) ahaha

then chap 4, how can i tell you that i cried a lot bc it's just so cute, it touched me a lot. still crying while writing this lol. i really like the next day confession part as well as the whole chapter. they're so cute trying to learn how to live together with their feelings revealed bc it's a little new without being too new: before they were "together" hiding their feelings for each other, now they are acting together with the real feelings in view of each other *snif* and then in this chap there is that sentence from the game abt fic in progress for which i fell in love, for which i was really interested in this fic: "you can have me in every way you" still dead having read it in the general context, it makes me feel full of emotions phew! then sander asking robbe to “ask him out again” so he can answer properly, officially the answer he wanted to answer, so sappy stoop! and as if that wasn't enough you add more, tasfia you don't do things by halves lol, all the way to put me under ground jsjsjs with sander saying that with robbe, now he knows he was once loved, that he knows true love (which echoes their conversation from ch3) still crying when reading this part bc already the feelings so strong that sander feels for robbe (and vice versa) and secondly it hurts that sander could think that no one had ever really loved him when robbe did. please, they're really adorable with their date, their messages, their kisses that have a greater meaning now that they know their feelings are mutual, their attentions like hugs, “i love you”, their habits together, their status as established couple so in love, and still have a lot to live together. and i'm really happy about that. i’m not okay when they call each other "boyfriend", "babe" bc yeah now they can say it out loud and it's satisfying, beautiful. the closing sentences had me tender, heartwarming, it was just so lovely, so symbolic with this notion of the universe, i cried even more jsjsjs

in ccl, i'm very happy to have read this fic, it made me feel a lot of emotions that only grew until the end. and then at the moment, i focus a lot on the meaning of the titles of fics i read and this one makes me feel a lot bc it sums up what sander and robbe feel during the friends with benefits but also currently being together: they love each other with an even more intense love bcit's reciprocal and they don't have to hide anymore for fear that the other one won't feel the same. what i'm trying to say is that it will always be more of than a feeling what they feel for each other bc this pact has lasted 3 years, 3 years of permanent courtship, of laughter, of solidarity, of many emotions... so 3 years of love that has developed, increased and grown. what they feel with each other, for each other, is more than a simple feeling, a temporary feeling, it's something much bigger than a feeling, you know? it's real, it's the two of them, the present and the future. i’m not okay emotionally by rambling, so i'll shut up now, just tell you that i really LOVE reading you tasfia, it's always so sweet, so loving, so symbolic. your stories really give me butterflies in my stomach💗💗 thank you so much for this one✨

PAM omg how do I respond to this lovely message I’m gonna cry 😭😭💕💕💕

Thank you so much!!! 🥺🥺💕💕 yesss that’s what I was going for with chp 3 with just a lot of tension and unspoken words because they couldn’t admit their feelings and a lot of softness in between because they are still friends after all and they’ve known each other for 3 years now 🥺🤧 and hahaha yeah I had to do a little rewrite on the confession scene bc I wanted it to be softer but I’m glad you didn’t have to wait too long for the next update which I apologize to those who did have to wait a whole month for it 🥺😅

And yesss chapter 4 was about them figuring out how to be a couple and the fact that they’re still really friends so like things changed but they also didn’t and I just wanted to show the development through it all. I also wanted to carry out some character arcs and finish up on their development as individuals so that’s what the last chapter deals with for sander since Robbe’s is pretty much done. In all honesty I was gonna have this fic be a one shot and stop at the date (I wasn’t even gonna write them going on the date just that they had plans for one AKSJDJJDA 🙈) but I’m glad I continued and I’m glad you enjoyed it and that it made you feel a lot of emotions bc that’s also what I was going for with this story, was to evoke some emotions in one way or another for the reader.

Thank you so much for your words and I’m really happy that you liked it!! I hope you’ll stick around for the last chapter when I get around to it!!! 🥰🥰🥰

[welcometojackass2022]

Bam being forced to fuck you as a punishment:

I really liked this idea and wanted to get it out quick, so this isn’t as polished as my other fics. Basically, Bam’s submissive pillow princess ass is used to you being on top and in control during sex, never vice versa. When he purposefully disobeys you, you decide to punish him by making him get on top and fuck you himself, knowing good and well he’s horrible at it.

There’s not a whole lot of descriptions of the actual fucking; the focus is on how bad Bam is at fucking and how humiliated he feels. I feel like Bam can go from bratty and stubborn to submissive and sensitive at the drop of a hat, and this focuses more on the latter.

Female reader.

Based off of this anonymous ask: https://welcometojackass2022.tumblr.com/post/692537519908225024/what-abt-making-bam-fuck-you-as-punishment-instead

“Anything you wanna say before I decide on your punishment?” You stared down at your boyfriend, who was sitting on the couch and looking up at you with his arms crossed like a defiant teenager. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” You raised your eyebrows. “Really, Bam? Am I? I didn’t realize that you lying to your friends about our sex life doesn’t qualify as a big deal.” Bam squirmed a little bit under the weight of your stare, and you smirked. “I wasn’t lying per se, I just stretched the truth a little bit.” You rolled your eyes, taking the opportunity to remove your jacket and toss it aside. “You told that guy at the party that you “fuck the shit out of me” on a daily basis. Does that not sound like a lie to you, Bam?”

A guilty look spread across Bam’s face. The two of you had been at a party, and you’d gone to get a drink. When you came back, you’d caught Bam bragging to one of his new friends about how you were his little bitch and he fucked the shit out of you on a regular basis to put you in your place. Neither of these things were true; Bam was your bitch, and you were the one who fucked him to put him in his place. You’d dragged him back to the car after this, and now the two of you were back home. “I was just trying to play things up a little bit for him, you know? He’s not like Novak and the Jackass guys, he’s doesn’t think that dominant women are hot. I was just trying to brag a little bit, you know? Make him jealous of us.”

“I see. Well, you definitely succeeded. He seemed very jealous of the fact that you apparently get to fuck the shit out of me on a regular basis.” Bam looked down at the floor, slightly ashamed, but then his jaw tightened and he shook his head. “I’m not going to apologize. All the other dudes get to brag about how they fuck their girls, so I should get to do that, too.” You nodded. “You’re right!” Bam stared at you, slightly stunned. “Huh? I’m right?” You nodded again. “Yep. You’re right, Bam. You should get to brag about how good you are at fucking your girlfriend, just like the rest of the boys do. That’s why, for your punishment, you’re gonna fuck me.” Now he just looked extremely confused. “You’re gonna punish me…with sex?” You smiled. “Yep! Is there a problem?”

Bam eagerly shook his head, quickly getting up to remove his t-shirt and to push his jeans down his pale, lanky legs. “No, no, I just wasn’t expecting you to offer makeup sex, usually when we argue like this you give me a real punishment.” His cock was already hard as he slipped his boxers off, the tip bright red and leaking precum from how excited he was. He moved to lay down on the soft carpet, his favorite place to have sex, but you shook your head. “What are you doing?” He looked up at you, confused again. “Uh..laying down? You always fuck me when I’m lying down like this.” You smiled. “Didn’t you hear me? You’re going to fuck me, not the other way around. You wanna be able to brag to your friends about how much you fuck me, right? Now you’ll be able to.”

Bam stared at you for another second, trying to reconcile what you were saying, and then the excited look on his face immediately dropped. “Wait…no, no, please baby, I’m sorry, I take it back, I’ll tell that guy from the party I was lying, just please don’t make me get on top.” You ignored his pleas for forgiveness and pulled your skirt down, kicking it aside along with your panties but leaving your shirt on (you knew Bam would be too busy trying to figure out how to fuck you correctly to bother paying any attention to your boobs). Bam was still rambling about how sorry he was as you laid yourself out on the floor, spreading your legs out enough to give him access to your pussy. “Stop whining and get over here, Bam, groveling isn’t gonna help you.”

Bam reluctantly obeyed, crawling over to you with a nervous look. His cock was still hard; the possibility that he’d get to cum was enough to override his distaste for being on top. “What’s the safe word?” You knew he knew it, but you needed to remind him that he could say no if he really didn’t want to do this. “Oklahoma.” You nodded. “Good boy. If you didn’t want to be punished like this, then you shouldn’t have lied. You’re my bitch, never the other way around. Now get into the correct position.” You beckoned him closer, and he slowly approached you, still on his hands and knees with that same pathetic look you’d seen on his face so many times before. He already knew how humiliating this was going to be for him.

He sat down in the space between your legs, eyes trained on the floor so he wouldn’t have to look at you and feel even more ashamed. “Hurry up, baby, I’m waiting for you to fuck the shit out of me like you said you could.” Your words dripped with sarcasm, which did nothing to help the fact that Bam was already starting to tear up. He slowly lined the tip of his cock up with your pussy, his left hand already braced on the floor to keep him from losing his balance, and he shakily pushed the tip in. You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be afraid, Bam, push the whole thing in. I can take it.” He obeyed, legs already starting to shake (his pillow princess tendencies meant that he had zero endurance when it came to this position), and you laughed. “Is that seriously the entire thing? I can barely feel it, what a puny little cock.”

You were messing with him here; you’d seen his cock plenty of times and already knew how small it was. Rubbing it in his face and acting shocked at how small it was was your way of humiliating him even further. Bam moved a little closer in a desperate attempt to push his cock in a little further, but it was pointless. You could feel his cock much more when you were on top and controlling the movements, but in missionary position, his cock was absolutely useless, which was why he avoided it as often as he could. Bam tried to finger you with his free hand in the hopes of giving you some kind of pleasure, but you slapped his hand away. “Nope, you’re not getting a shortcut here. You can only use your cock.”

The sex could have potentially been saved if Bam had any sense of pace, but no such luck. His thrusts were sloppy and weak, his hips stuttering each time he felt his cock enter your tight, wet pussy. His left hand was still tagging the floor for balance, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to hold this position for much longer. Even though you were barely feeling a thing, Bam was already close to cumming, a loud moan escaping his mouth as his full, heavy ballsack slapped against your ass. Sensing he was close, you decided to fit in a little more humiliation while you still had time. You reached down to brush a strand of hair out of his face, stroking his cheek and staring him down with a pitiful expression.

“Poor baby. Can’t even fuck your girlfriend properly, how pathetic. Imagine if that guy at the party saw you right now, practically falling over from trying to fuck me with that useless, sloppy little cock of yours after you bragged so much about how good you were at fucking me. How you could fuck the shit out of me so effortlessly. What a weak little bitch.” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look at you. “You gonna cum, baby? You gonna blow your pathetic little load into my pussy?” Bam nodded, and you scoffed. “You’re lucky I’m letting you, considering how poorly of a job you’ve done. Ten minutes of this and I still can’t feel anything. And yet I’m letting you cum anyway. How merciful of me. Tell me how thankful you are that I’m going to let you cum, baby.”

Bam weakly thrust his cock inside you again, tears falling down his cheeks as he tried to hold himself steady. “I’m so thankful that you’re letting me cum, ma’am.” You raised an eyebrow. “And why are you thankful?” He was clearly on the brink of cumming, his cock starting to twitch as he sloppily thrust into you again and opened his mouth in pleasure. “I’m, um, I’m–fuck, I’m thankful because you’re letting me fuck you even though I’m horrible at it.” You smiled. “And why are you horrible at it?” Bam thrust into you one more time and then stopped, leaving his cock inside you as he grew closer to orgasm. “Because my cock is too tiny and useless for you to feel it, ma’am. The only thing I’m good for is being your little bitch, ma’am, you’re the one who fucks me.” Satisfied, you nodded. “Good boy. Cum for me.”

Bam obeyed, head falling back in ecstasy as his puny little cock shot its load into your pussy, his legs and arms giving out from the sheer pleasure of his orgasm. He exhaustedly pulled his cock out of you, eyes red from crying and half-lidded from how tired he was, and you immediately sat up and pulled him into your lap, ignoring the cum that was dripping from your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your neck, choking back a sob as you gently rubbed his back and stroked his hair. “I hope you learned your lesson, baby. You’ve got the cutest little cock, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not suited for fucking the shit out of me, so let’s avoid telling other people that it is, okay?” He nodded weakly, pulling his head away from your neck to reveal his teary face, and you wiped his tears away with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll never lie about it again, I promise.” You smiled. “I know you won’t.”

[grapesodatozier]

so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

[stubbornjerk]

Why people keep telling you to block them if you support Pholo (Penumbra Edition)

Or: why jitterbug-juno really deactivated

I love when people categorize this as fandom wank. Really makes you feel like you’re putting the onus on either side of the conversation.

I’m making this post not because I want to stir up spoiled milk, but because I want it out there that this wasn’t a purity culture war.

The TL;DR version of this is that fans of color tried to tell Rab (prev. jitterbug-juno) not to post her Omegaverse (or A/B/O) fic. And instead of taking the L, she posted it on Ao3 and deactivated.

But, if you want context, well, buckle in. CW for mentions of racism and transphobia.

What did jitterbug-juno do?

Before I get into this I do want it out there that I will not be linking Rab’s fic, but I will show you this screenshot of the summary of it.

[ID: It is a screenshot of a fic, “As You Are” by Pholo.

Summary: Peter can hide his scent glands behind cologne; makeup; concealer pads. He can quash his heats with suppressants. He can divert the urge to nest and fawn.

But he can’t feign another gender’s subvocals. He lacks the anatomical capacity. Mag taught him to distract from his silence with fast, flashy words. For longer heists he relies on social convention. Traumatic mutism is uncommon, but remarked upon by enough war vets and soap operas to be widely recognized. Peter’s marks assume he’s been harmed long before they assume he’s a closeted omega. It would take quite the backwater brute to ask why he doesn’t murmur or chuff or growl.

On the 'Blanche there are the usual furtive glances. Juno makes clear to Peter that should he ever want “to talk about what happened,” he’ll be there to listen. The gesture annoys Peter more than comforts him.

‘Nothing happened,’ he wants to scream. ‘There’s nothing to talk about!’

There are 14 comments, 85 kudos, and 11 bookmarks /end]

You decide what you’re doing with that information, but honestly, I’d rather you don’t give it anymore engagement than it deserves.

There was a period earlier this June (yes, even though it’s only the 10th, at time of writing) when Rab was posting snippets of the aforementioned fic on her blog and tagging it appropriately, putting it in the attention of pretty much the entire Penumbra fandom.

What’s Omegaverse or a/b/o and why is everyone so against Rab for it

If you know what Omegaverse is, I don’t have to tell you why it’s controversial. If you don’t know what Omegaverse is, well, Fanlore said it best:

a kink trope wherein some or all people have defined biological roles based on a hierarchical system, with the terms originating from animal behaviour research. There may be werewolf, knotting, or other animalistic elements involved, or the characters may be otherwise purely human.

The term is generally written with slashes (a/b/o). Many fans, particularly ones from Australia and New Zealand, are uncomfortable seeing the term without slashes because it is also an Australian slur for aboriginal people.

I won’t get into the history or the heaps and tons of other discourses (mostly about fictional male pregnancy, homophobia, transphobia, sexual assault, etc.)  that go on within that. We’re here specifically on Rab v. Penumbra fans of color and we’re staying there.

Anyone who’s been in Penumbra enough to realize that everyone draws the Junoverse characters in a certain way knows that a) Juno is black, b) Nureyev is Asian, and c) as a fan you have to be aware of what you’re subjecting or saying about either of them because of the political repercussions that come with it.

And despite that, Rab proceeded to write Peter Nureyev, a gender nonconforming gay Asian male character that is widely headcanon’d as trans, into a fic using a kink trope that relies heavily on animal behavior.

Unlike most people new to fandom, Rab is aware of what Omegaverse is and is very much white. She is (and if she isn’t, should be) aware of the racist undertones that writing him in would get.

I couldn’t get a screenshot of what snippets Rab was sending out into the ether, seeing as a majority of my friends would rather not have seen any at all (I have all of the usual tags blocked so I wouldn’t have seen it either way), but needless to say, Rab got attention for it. Both positive and negative.

Anne (@hopeless-eccentric) even posted a satirical fic, in the odds that Rab was just writing this thing to be “the first” to write Omegaverse fic in the Penumbra tags.

But, I’m assuming more than one fan of color came into Rab’s inbox and messaged her about it, but someone I know (who would like to remain anonymous) was gracious enough to take a screenshot before he sent his in and let me use it for this post:

[ID: A message to jitterbug-juno about to be sent by a sender whose name is censored with a black bar. His messages says:

“as someone who is a person of color i think the nature of the fic you are writing right now is extremely racist and attributing animal characteristics to lgbt people of color is not at all appropriate, especially when you are someone who is white. i have to ask you to not publish this fic and to reflect as to why you would want to write this in the first place, these tropes are extremely harmful and”

There are 33 characters left to write into the message. /end]

I can’t speak for whoever else sent asks about the fic she was writing. If anyone was actually not-so-gentle with her, well, minorities don’t really owe it to you to be gentle about what they can tell is bigotry-tinged behavior.

But, the message was clear: this is different from your garden variety, lily white straight male character m/m kink fantasy. This is an actual queer Asian character that a lot of queer Asian people feel attached do. Do not post the fic.

What happened next: the beginning of the end

The next morning, I woke up to most of my friends being frustrated by this post on Rab’s account:

[ID: Dated 5 June, a post by jitterbug-juno:

“Gonna leave the fandom for a while. Wishing you all well.”

The tags say the following: not sure if i’ll be back, thank you so much to everybody who’s read my fics, and who’s sent asks or engaged with my art or any of that, you’re amazing and I’m sending love /end]

That... was not what fans of color wanted, but it was definitely an action they took. Some celebrated, as they were very much wary of Rab for having caused much of the same category of drama in fandoms like Voltron: Legendary Defenders and Warrior Cats. This also meant that she was probably not going to post the fic either.

Some, myself included, were relatively pissed, as they’d wanted even just the measly bit of accountability. An apology or an acknowledgement of having been called out in private and that they’ll take time to consider why. But instead we got Rab leaving in the face of fans of color telling her not to post her Omegaverse fic.

Well. The next day...

[ID: Dated 6 June. A post by jitterbug-juno titled, “Well... that was short-lived”

“I gave the situation a lot of thought yesterday. The reaction to my omegaverse previews made me figure I should leave the fandom. It seemed like the safest option.

But you know what?

Hell.

I don’t want to leave. The fic discusses the tropes of omegaverse and I spoke to several POC on Twitter, and I’m going to post it with plenty of tags so people can avoid it if they wish. I’m not going to be chased out of this space.

Thank you to everyone who sent messages yesterday. I shouldn’t have made that post about leaving. It was really reactionary. I’m okay and I appreciate your support so much.

(bolded on the post) To those who are angry and uncomfortable with me: Please block me. If you’re going to talk about this fic on Tumblr and Twitter– and this may sound odd– PLEASE NAME ME as Jitterbug-juno or Pholo. Don’t vague me. That way people who don’t want to see this discourse can add my name to their block lists.“ /end]

That certainly was short-lived, she wasn’t kidding.

This got a lot of outrage. Again, the fic is up on Ao3 and she has not taken it down. A lot of POC were pissed and I didn’t see a single fan of color actively support what she was doing, at least, not in my friend group. Everyone started making those posts to block them if you liked the fic or Rab’s content in general, in accordance to what Rab wanted.

Perseus (@mraudiodrama) noticed/pointed out that Rab deleted the part where she said she spoke to several POC about releasing her fic, as well as the part where she said she refused to be chased out of the fandom. This was an incredibly pointed detail to edit out, according to some.

[ID: A screenshot of jitterbug-juno's last post taken 11:00PM. Much of it is the same except the following bolded words are removed: "The fic discusses the tropes of omegaverse and I spoke to several POC on Twitter, and I’m going to post it with plenty of tags so people can avoid it if they wish. I’m not going to be chased out of this space." /end]

That same day, Rab deleted her blog. I actually caught this one on tape, believe it or not.

[ID: A screen recording taken at 12:01 PM of someone scrolling down jitterbug-juno's account. The posts and asks about Omegaverse and her post about leaving and coming back are conspicuously absent. /end]

Initially, I thought she deleted all mentions of it. I wanted to see firsthand if the rumors about her deleting portions of it were true. If she added things where she was saying that she wanted to write it because she was autistic and wanted Nureyev to be autistic too, regardless of the numerous QPOC telling her not to do it.

Instead, it turned out, she deleted her blog.

And now, we're here. The fic is still up. Her blog is down. Rab's public Twitter account @nataclinn is quiet about this. Her @cushfuddled Twitter account is on private after her run-in with the Warrior Cats fandom, according to a friend. And her Tumblr @cushfuddled account has nothing but memes.

Again, I didn't make this post to stir up drama. I wasn't even obsessively making this post as a call-out because she isn't in the fandom anymore. I just want it out there that this isn't a purity culture thing that got out of hand in a fandom as niche as Penumbra. This was a case of someone being called out and failing to acknowledge it before running away. And I want all that out of the way before I say:

If you are on Rab's side of this debacle, I, a queer person of color, want nothing to do with you either.

[mrs-gucci]

since december is the month of giving...

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to my december blog celebration as of late. at first, I was gonna do a bunch of holiday-themed fics, but then I kinda realized that I have a lot of overhang (aka things I’ve promised to finish, but haven’t gotten back around to).

so, in the spirit of the holiday season and in the spirit of giving, I’m designating this entire month to delivering on (some of) those “broken promise” fics.

it’s the DECEMBER OF DELIVERING, y’all :)

**THE WINNERS HAVE BEEN CHOSEN! THEY’RE LINKED HERE!!**

there will be a google form opening up for a bit with the options for y’all to vote on. I’ll go ahead and pick 3 or 4 winners (depending on which fics get the most votes) and I’ll write them up & release them all throughout the month (along with a few holiday fics, because of course I’m gonna do some holiday fics lol. @ the nonny that requested paranssus as scrooge over the summer...I haven’t forgotten about you 😏)

here are the options that I’ve chosen, just from my own personal guilty conscious lol, observing blog activity (because I do actually pay attention!) & asks (again, I see y’all!):

❥ any of the unwritten 500 celebration fics.

❥ any of the unwritten hump day funday fics.

❥ as lil treat, I’ve added part 3 of “adult swim” as a voting option (yes, I’m fully aware that I said very recently that I wasn’t gonna write it...but I’m also in love with charlie and a lot of ppl seem to want it...so if it gets enough votes I’ll do it) ☞ “adult swim” part 1, part 2. ☜

❥ plus! you’re allowed to pitch another option, if you have it. and if enough people pitch the same thing, I’ll add it to the list :)

I hope this idea excites people and I hope that lots of y’all will wanna vote!! I’m actually pretty excited to see which fics get the most votes (I have my predictions, but I always seem to end up being wrong lol, so we shall see)!

**the form to vote on fics will be open for five days, from FRI. NOVEMBER 12th to WED. NOVEMBER 17th. that leaves plenty of time for plenty of folks to vote!**

for anyone wondering! there is no need to sign in to fill out this form or any way for me to see who votes, and the username option on the form is completely optional, so you can vote 100% anonymously :)

the form opens up tomorrow morning at 9am (EST), so keep an eye out for that post with the form link!

[rizlowwritessortof]

Meant To Be - Chapter 1

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start. (Tags will be on the fic masterlist post so y’all don’t get bombarded with each chapter.)

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 3583

Warnings: Abusive relationship and related violence, nothing graphic. 

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The sudden stop sent the car skidding a little in the gravel, the dust cloud swirling to dissipate in the breeze as Jordan jumped out, slamming the door hard behind her as she yelled into her phone. “Kiss my ass, Darrel! No, you did this, don’t lay it on me! What?! Like hell I’m coming home! Just go back to your new little drinking buddy-slash-fucktoy and leave me alone. You can’t have it both ways. No, fuck you. Fuck you sideways, buddy. I’m done. Have a nice life.”

She let out a frustrated scream, slamming a fist down on the hood of the car, so pissed off that she was shaking. She whirled around, startled, as a deep masculine voice called out. “Poor car. Sounds like Darrel’s the one you should be punching.”

“Excuse me? That was a private conversation!” she spluttered, glaring at the source. He was standing in front of a beautiful black beast of a car, the hood up, wiping his hands on a shop rag. She could feel the heat in her face, and his appearance slowly filtering through her rage into her brain didn’t help. He was gorgeous.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, but the way you were yelling, there wasn’t much private about it.” He dropped his chin a little, his eyes narrowing as he spoke again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to butt in. Are you okay?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned to the car, jerking the back door open to grab her bag. “It’s okay, sorry I was such a bitch. And I’m not okay, but I will be. I’m gonna be fucking awesome.” She stuffed her phone in her back pocket and fished the key card out of her bag, fumbling with the door. “Thanks for asking, anyway.”

She glanced back at him before going in, watching his little nod of acknowledgment and rueful smile. She closed the door shut behind her and leaned against it, dropping her bag. “Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all. Screaming like a crazy woman in the middle of a parking lot, in front of the most fucking attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. Awesome start to your new life, Jordan.” She  moved to the window, peeking out the side of the curtains at him as he continued working under the hood of his car. He was tall, solid, in beat-up blue jeans and a well-worn grey t-shirt that was smeared with grease and dark in spots from perspiration. She watched the muscles in his biceps strain as he worked with some kind of tool, stopping for a moment to grab the rag from his back pocket and wipe his face. He was ridiculously good-looking, even with smudges of grease on his arms and face. Actually, somehow that made him even more attractive, a man’s man, a man who wasn’t afraid of hard work and getting dirty. He glanced her direction, and she backed away quickly, swearing under her breath.

She sighed, letting her eyes roam around her room. It was almost like a little bungalow, with a kitchenette and a couch against one wall, and she wandered over to take a look out the back door. Now wasn’t that convenient! Right across the street behind the motel was a little liquor store, and she began to smile to herself. “No guts, no glory, girl. Get over there and buy that fine man a cold beer to apologize for being a hag.”

A few minutes later, she was stepping back out the front door with two icy-cold long necks in her hands. He watched her approach, wiping his hands, a slow smile lighting up his handsome face. “Here. To say I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“Well, no apology necessary, but I’ll be damned if I say no to that! Fuckin’ hot out here,” he rumbled, taking the beer gratefully and taking a long pull from the bottle.

“Fuckin’ hot anywhere you are,” Jordan thought to herself, joining him after a little salute with the bottle in his direction. “Nothing better than an ice-cold beer on a hot day,” she said out loud. “So – what’s wrong with your car?”

“Oh, nothin’, really. Just tuning her up a little. Killing time, actually. I’ve been here one night already, looks like it’s gonna be another couple. Just waiting for my brother to get back.”

“Ahhh, so you just like to tinker.”

“Oh, I just like to make her purr.” Jordan almost choked on the swallow of beer she had just taken. “She’s just like a woman, you treat her right, she’ll treat you right.”

She smiled at him, getting one back in return. “Well, I’m glad there’s a man in this world who knows that. I’m Jordan, by the way.”

“Dean. Nice to meet you, Jordan.” His voice was on her frequency, apparently, because every time he spoke she felt her breath catch. His eyes were green with hints of gold, framed by thick lashes that any woman would die for, and she looked down at her beer, peeling at the label, unable to withstand his candid gaze any longer. They chatted a little longer about how good the beer tasted, how hot it was, how comfy the rooms were. He finished his beer, setting the bottle down and reaching up to lower the hood and close it. The muscles of his back under that damp, clingy t-shirt raised Jordan’s temperature another notch, and she had to mentally prompt herself to close her mouth. She cleared her throat, taking a long, cool drink, surprised it didn’t just come out of her ears in billows of steam.

“Well, Jordan, thanks for the beer. I’d better hit the shower. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She smiled back at him, and then watched him walk back to his room, two doors down from hers. Those jeans hugged his body just right, and her eyes followed his bow-legged amble all the way to his door, finally forcing herself to focus on the ground before he could turn and see her staring again. Holy. Shit. She headed back to the room and opened another beer, scolding herself. Not really the best time to be lusting after some stranger, not with all the shit she’d been through the last few weeks. She plopped down on the sofa with a sigh, roaming through the channels on the TV while she finished her beer, then headed for the shower.

Dean dropped the empty beer bottle into the trash and sat on the edge of the bed to untie his boots. He smiled to himself, Jordan’s dramatic entrance into the parking lot replaying in his head. “Little firecracker, that one,” he muttered. She was a little bit of nothing, but what was there was nicely arranged, he had to admit. Big brown eyes, hair short and sexy just like her, kissable lips…

He laughed quietly to himself as he imagined Donna’s teasing voice in his head saying, “Don’t even think about it, partner. Ain’t you had enough?” As soon as he was cleaned up, he needed to call and check on her, see how she was doing. He headed towards the bathroom as he stripped his t-shirt off, pushing the door with one foot to swing it closed.

The bar and grill down the block looked like a good enough place to find some food, and Jordan walked that way, running her fingers through her tousled, short hair. The screen door squealed as she opened it, pushing hard to shove the heavy inner door open and walking into the bar, the air conditioning sending a refreshing chill over her arms. A waitress walking by gave her a pleasant smile and hello, telling her to sit wherever she pleased and she’d be right with her.

There was no one in the place at the moment but a table full of elderly men at the far back corner, playing cards and drinking coffee. She settled herself in a comfy booth by the wall, grabbing a menu.

“Can I get you somethin’ to drink, hon?” the waitress asked, and she smiled up at her.

“Yeah, a glass of whatever you’ve got on tap, please.”

“You got it, be right back to take your order. I’m Molly, by the way, if you need something.” It was a lovely place, simple, homey and welcoming. Small town friendly, which was always pleasant - as long as you weren’t from that small town so they didn’t know all your business. Sometimes being an anonymous stranger was really nice.

Molly came back with a frosted mug brim-full of beer, and she smiled. You don’t get those everywhere. “Awesome, thanks!”

“You ready to order?” the woman asked, brushing a graying lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her face.

“Yeah, I think I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger and fries,” she said, and her stomach grumbled as she spoke. Things had been in such an uproar lately, she had barely been eating.

“Now, there’s a woman with good taste!” Jordan felt her heartbeat stop for a second, and she looked up into Dean’s smiling face, those stunning green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Molly, can I get the same, and a beer?” he asked, giving the older woman his full attention.

“You got it, Dean,” the waitress answered with a smile, and headed back towards the kitchen. He nodded his head towards the seat opposite Jordan’s and grinned.

“Mind if I sit? I mean, if you’re not expecting somebody...”

“No, I’m not, please sit,” she smiled back at him. “It’ll be nice to have somebody to talk to besides myself.”

He took a seat, an amused smirk on his face. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt your conversation.”

“It’s okay. Mostly waxing poetic about the frosted mug of beer,” she grinned back.

“Right? Gotta love that.” He looked up at the waitress as his beer appeared in front of him. “Molly, you’re a doll.”

“Oh, stop. Keep tellin’ you, I’m married,” she teased, turning to go. “And I’m too old for you.”

“Love a woman with experience,” he fired back, and she flapped a hand at him, blushing.

“You are a dangerous man. You watch out for that one, honey,” Molly aimed her parting remarks at Jordan and headed back to the kitchen.

“How long have you known her?” Jordan asked, raising her mug to her lips.

“Just met her yesterday. Why?”

Jordan stared back at him in surprise. “Really? Wow, you’ve got a way with people.”

“A friend of mine told me once that I just like to flirt. She might be right.”

Jordan laughed. “She might be.” His phone went off just then, and he grabbed it off the table.

“My brother. Be right back,” he smiled, swiping the screen as he rose to his feet and headed for the door. “Hey, Sammy,” she heard him say as he went outside.

She ordered them each another beer when Molly came over to check, and she had just taken a drink, focused on reading a message on her phone, when a rough hand landed on her shoulder. “Okay, Jordan. Time to come home.”

She froze, refusing to look up at him. “Darrel. How did you find me?”

“Wasn’t hard. I knew which way you were headed. Now, you’re gonna get up from that seat and come home with me, we have a lot to talk about.”

“We don’t have anything left to talk about, but I’m not making a scene in here. So let’s just go outside and get this over with,” she ground out quietly between clenched teeth. She stood up and winced a little at the brutal grip on her arm, biding her time until they left the bar.

“Miss? You okay?” Molly asked with a frown as they headed for the door, and Jordan nodded.

“I’m fine, Molly. Don’t worry.”

“Just keep movin’,”Darrel whispered behind her. They shoved their way through the door, and took several steps away from the building before Jordan began to struggle. She cried out as he shifted his hold, twisting her arm behind her back viciously. “None of your shit, now. Just move.”

“Hey, Darrel!” Dean’s voice rang out loud and clear behind them, and Jordan tensed at the sound.

Darrel gave her arm another tug as he turned them both around to face Dean. “Fucker!” she spat, her teeth clenched.

“You okay, Jordan?” Dean asked, and she looked into his eyes.

“I’m sure I will be shortly.” Dean nodded, a wicked little smirk curving his lips.  

“Who the hell are you?” Darrel demanded. “Who is this clown?” he growled into Jordan’s ear, and she jerked her head away.

“So, Darrel, tell me – is this usually the way you get women to go with you? Because I’m pretty sure she’s gonna cut off your balls first chance she gets.” He frowned a little, then continued. “Wait, that would assume you have balls, which is pretty unlikely, I’d guess.”

Darrel drew in a breath to respond, distracted for the moment, and Jordan jammed her free arm back, driving her elbow into his ribs, then stomped down hard on his instep. Darrel loosened his grip on her, groaning in pain, and she jerked herself free from his grasp, running towards Dean.

“Good girl,” he said, sweeping his arm out to place her behind him. “Well, Darrel. Looks like we have a situation here.”

Darrel pulled a knife from his back pocket, flipping it open. “Yeah. Bad one for you, asshole. You’re not armed.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “You’ve got a point there. So, whatcha waitin’ for, Darrel?” He said the man’s name with utter contempt, muttering, “Go inside” to Jordan as he headed towards the coward. “Bring it on.”

Jordan couldn’t force her feet to follow his command, staring in horror and shouting Dean’s name as he approached Darrel. There was a flurry of movement, punches thrown and Darrel’s swing with the blade blocked, his arm twisted violently until the weapon hit the ground with a thud, followed a few seconds later by Darrel, bruised and bleeding. Dean bent to pick up the knife, flipping it in his hand and standing over the fallen man with a snarl on his lips.  

“I suggest you get the fuck outta here before I finish kicking your ass. And you forget about her. Forget her name. Forget you ever knew her. You hear me?”

Darrel scooted away, scrambling to his feet at a safer distance. “Jordan, this ain’t over!” he yelled defiantly.

“What did I just say to you?!” Dean bellowed, moving quickly in his direction, and Darrel’s eyes widened as he turned to run. “That’s right, you fucking coward, get your ass away from here.” Dean watched the man run until he was out of sight, then turned quickly, striding back to Jordan’s side. “Did he hurt you? Are you all right?”

She nodded, her face pale, weaving a little as her knees gave way. Dean put an arm around her waist, leading her to the bench beside the door and sitting her down. Molly stuck her head out the door, concern on her face. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah, just a little shaky. Hey, Molly – can we get those burgers to go?”

“Of course, give me just a sec, hon. Just wait right there.”

Dean hunkered down in front of Jordan, taking hold of her cold hand. “Hey, Jordan? Look at me, sweetheart.” She finally raised her eyes, and he gave her a proud little smile. “You did great. Just exactly what I was hoping you’d do.” Molly came out the door just then, handing their food to Dean, and reaching over to put her hand on Jordan’s.

“Glad you’re okay. Both of you.” With a pat to her hand and a little squeeze to Dean’s shoulder, she turned and went back inside.

“Okay, think you can make it back to your room? Come on, I gotcha,” Dean encouraged, an arm around her waist, the food and Darrel’s knife in the other hand. “Man, can’t wait to dig in. Molly makes a mean bacon cheeseburger.” He kept talking, all the way back to the motel, taking Jordan’s key card and letting them both in before leading her to a chair. “I’m going to my room to grab something, I’ll be right back. Okay?” She nodded vacantly, staring down at her hands.

She looked up, eyes wide as she heard someone at the door a couple of moments later, but Dean called out. “It’s just me, Jordan, comin’ back in, okay?” He came in, closed and dead-bolted the door behind him, and set a bottle of whiskey on the table as he walked by. Soon he was back, two coffee mugs from the little kitchenette in his hand. He poured a generous splash of the amber liquid into the cup and scooted it over towards Jordan. “Drink that, it’ll help.” She nodded, taking the cup in hand and tipping it steadily back, letting the liquor burn its way down her throat. She shuddered a little, then held it out for more.

“One more, maybe,” she said, and he tipped the bottle again. She downed the second shot, then blew out a shaky breath.

“Better?”

She looked at him, the color beginning to come back into her cheeks. “Yeah. I think so. Dean, I don’t know what to say...”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just eat. You can talk later.” He grinned, shoving her food at her, and she dug in gratefully.

She moaned, her eyes closing. “This is amazing!” Dean smiled, watching her wolf that bite down and go after another. She stopped, suddenly looking alarmed. “Wait, I didn’t even pay!”

“Taken care of, don’t worry about it.”

“So it’s not enough that you chase off my asshole ex, now you’re buying me dinner? Where have you been all my life?” she teased, taking another bite, and then blushing at her own words. “Wow - maybe the whiskey’s kicking in.”

Dean laughed softly as he continued eating. “Good. Maybe you can relax a little.” He turned on the TV, surfing until he found an old sitcom, and they watched as they finished their meal. When the credits rolled, Dean stood up, gathering the trash and tossing it before turning back to smile at her. “So – I should get out of here, let you get some rest.”

“Do you have to leave?” She swallowed hard, blushing. He stared back at her, not sure how to respond, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry, you’ve done too much for me already, I don’t blame you for wanting to get the hell away, like you need...”

“Hey.” He spoke softly to stop her rambling, and she looked up at him, biting nervously at her lip. “I just thought after what you’d been through you should get some rest.” She nodded silently, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her, and he spoke again, concern in his eyes. “Are you afraid he’ll come back, Jordan?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.” She swallowed hard, fighting not to cry in front of him.

“Listen, I’ve got two beds in my room, you’re welcome to come down there and stay if you want.”

“No, no… I’m just being crazy. I’m sure he’s gone. You probably scared him all the way back home.” She tried to sound like she was laughing it off, but her performance wasn’t convincing even her. “Really, Dean, thank you. I appreciate it. But I don’t want to be any more of a pain than I already have been.” She picked up her phone, avoiding eye contact, and looked up in surprise when he took hold of it, pulling it gently from her grasp.

He typed something into it, then handed it back. “There, I put my number in. If you get scared, or if you need anything, call me. No matter what time it is. Okay?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”

She felt his hand on her shoulder. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. How about I pick you up for breakfast in the morning?”

She nodded, looking steadily at the table top as he gave her shoulder a squeeze and headed out the door. As soon as the latch clicked shut, she buried her head in her arms and burst into tears.

She climbed into bed a little later, feeling somewhat better. Dean was right, she did need to sleep. The last few weeks had been harder than she’d realized, and then with Darrel showing up… yeah, the tough girl mask she tried to present to the world had slipped a little.

She fell asleep almost as soon as she settled in, the first deep sleep she’d had in days. A loud crash from the parking lot outside her door woke her, and she sat up, groggy and disoriented, trying to get her bearings before climbing out of bed to see what had caused the noise.

Her eyes widened as she peered out the window. Her car was engulfed in flames, and she stumbled back from the window in shock, running back to the bed to grab her phone from the night stand. Her hands shaking, she dialed Dean’s number, surprised when he answered immediately, not even letting her speak.

“Jordan, stay in your room. Don’t come out unless I come and get you, understand?”

Chapter 2