#I’m not like freaking out about it or anything

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

P*RNSTAR- J. TODD, D. GRAYSON, P. PARKER

pairing: boyfriend! p*rnstar!jason todd x p*rnstar!dick grayson x p*rnstar!peter parker x girly!fem! reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: after months of dating jason, you finally muster the courage to ask if you can be in one of his videos... with some company. aka his two best friends dick and peter-to get all the right angles, of course.

warnings: SMUT! threesum!, daddy kink, size / manhandling kink, swearing, pet names, innocence kink, porn mentioned ofc, heavy praise, overstimulation, light spanking, giving and recieving head, fingering, cumming inside, masterbation, jason is super possesive- the boys tease the hell outta him... (this is super dirty heh)

quick authors note- thank you to the lovely person who left a threesum request in my inbox, i had this idea for a while to do something with this song in mind- so happy i could write this :) happy reading and happy valentines day<3

"i wanna hear you talking dirty/ i wanna see it on your face/ i wanna feel you put the work in/ i wanna watch you entertain / flashing red light (baby, baby, baby)/ baby, you're a star/ fuck me all night/ (show me, show me, show me)/ show me who you are/ pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (pornstar)"- p*rnstar, nessa barrett

Some things you knew, but you didn't.

Like when it came to your boyfriend's income.

He had more money than you could ever dream of. And yet- it was still a blurry line of where exactly he got it all.

Jason had pulled you aside before things got serious between you two- indicating what he did for a living. It wasn't a dinner table conversation at the busiest restaurant in Gotham, but he wasn't ashamed of himself.

He was worried about what you would think.

If you’d splash your glass of wine in his face, and be done with it.

But you were calm and understanding when he told you about his OnlyFans. About how dozens of his Twitter videos had gotten millions of views, with him as the main attraction.

He didnt work in the professional industry, he had assured you- there was no film crew, bright lights and casting calls. It was just him and his phone, sometimes a mask or two.

He was nearly appalled when you just smiled, squeezing his hand.

“That doesn't bother me Jason, I promise. Nothing you could say or do could be a deal breaker for me.”

You didn't really understand it all, how it all worked- but you were supportive nonetheless.

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly when a few minutes later you asked him if he filmed with anyone else. Not that you were jealous or anything if there was- it was work and all, you had quickly added.

“No one else sweetheart. Just me.”

And that had been enough of an explanation for you.

You didn't love him for his money, obviously- but it was definitely a nice bonus. He always lavished you in diamonds and lace- leaving fancy little lingerie pieces on the bed he’d hand pick for you to wear.

“Fuck, we’re gonna have to get you in a video soon sweetheart. Look how pretty you are for me, yeah?” he cooed in your ear as he fisted your hair in his hand, forcing you to look over into the mirror as he pounded into you from behind.

It drove you crazy.

You matched his freak in other ways, you were eager to learn new things and he loved to take care of you- practically using you as a doll for him to fuck however he wanted.

One night he had caught you watching one of his videos you had found on Twitter, your little pants and moans leading him right to the bedroom when he got home late from drinks with his friends.

“Whatdya think you’re doing, sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, making you gasp and quickly pull your hand out from your sleep shorts.

“I’m s-sorry I was just seeing- Just wanted to know what you liked..” you trailed off, squirming as he took heavy strides over to the bed, lifting your head to slide his large knee under it, supporting your weight.

“Well don't stop on my account princess. Show daddy how you touch yourself, yeah? All nice n wet f’me?”

You couldn't get that night out of your mind.

It had been a week since he had caught you in the act, and instead of embarrassed you felt… hornier.

Somehow.

It didn't make sense, you were rather shy and quiet when it came to sex- unless Jason guided you to let go (which you loved). Sex wasn't foreign to you by any means- I mean, your boyfriend was a pornstar for god's sake.

But this?

This weird sense of courage, or pride to show yourself off with him? It was foreign.

You had sat on the idea for a little, and the more you thought about filming with him, the more wet your panties seemed to get at the idea.

It got to the point where you were so caught up in it, Jason had to sit you down on his lap- something he often did when you were either sad, anxious, clingy or in subspace- in the middle of the day.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You’ve been distracted all week. What's on your mind pretty?”

“S’nothing Jay.” you mumbled into his shirt, body going taunt as his hand came down to stroke your head.

“Princess you know better than to hide from me, yeah? Use your big girl words and tell  me what's going on inside that beautiful mind.”

You clung to his shirt, scrunching the fabric with a closed fist as you cleared your throat.

“I just- I was thinking a lot, lately. About, your work.” He stilled.

“And I think, if you’re okay with it, I’d maybe like to be in a video. If you’d let me, if you’re comfortable- I mean.”

Jason was frozen. All you could hear was his gentle breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as you lifted your head, peering up at him.

“Jay?”

“Are you sure angel? You really wanna do that?”

You nodded.

“I think it would be fun. And sexy. Ya know, like you showing me off…” you trailed off, and he smirked.

“You like that, don't you?”

“Maybe a little.”

He cooed at your confession, slowly starting to bounce his knee, just the way he knew drove you crazy. He swore he could hear you purring, like it was a cat who was curled on his thick thighs, and not the sweetest, most precious and innocent little angel he had ever laid eyes on.

Who had just confessed she wanted to film content with him.

Who knew what other tricks she had up her sleeve?

He was eager to find out. And even more eager to show you off, and remind everyone that you were his girl.

-----------------------------------------------

You had two other tricks up your sleeve.

And those two tricks consisted of Dick Grayson and Peter Parker. His friends, who just so happened to also film content.

Peter seemed to be just as surprised as you were, for going through with this- but more so at Jason.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to share your princess Jason. So possessive all the time, isn't he Dick?” was the first thing he said as he entered, tossing you a flirty little wink.

Jason responded with a growl, entirely proving his point as he started to shield you from the two men who flung themselves down on the couch, peering over at you with nothing but a look of hunger at your innocent little outfit- you had your thigh highs on with your short little pink skirt you knew drove Jason wild.

It seemed to drive more then just him wild, though.

“Jay..” you murmured, placing a gentle hand on his bicep,poking out from behind his towering body.

“I’m doing this for my girl. So make her happy, or so be it..” he grumbled at the guys, making Dick smirk cockily.

“Oh we’ll make her happy alright.”

“She’s so meek, like a little kitten. It's adorable, really.” Peter cooed, leaning over to look at you.

“I don't think we’ve met before angel. But Jason talks our ears off about you.”

“Good things I hope.” you giggled, your eyes meeting with Jasons. There was a darkness in them that you only saw when he was feeling feisty, when you acted out.

Good.

“Only the best things.” Dick chimed in, adjusting himself so he manspread on the couch, and you fought the urge not to stare at the prominent bulge that strained his gray sweats.

You felt a hand slip to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the skin as Jason tugged you closer to him.

“You’re gonna have to stop being so possessive someday Jason. This might be good for you. Like exposure therapy, or whatever.” Peter tsked, eyeing where his hand lay.

“Two rules.” you said, getting everyone's attention, three sets of eyes on you, all perked with attention.

“I want Jay in the room at all times. And, um if for whatever reason if I need to stop or don’t like something, we’re gonna take a breather.”

“Hon, thats a given. One hundred percent, no question.” Dick reassured, Peter nodding beside him in agreement. “And don’t feel pressure about money or anything okay? Even if you decide to suddenly stop- there's no pressure. Money is already on the table for you baby.” Peter added, making you chirp out a little giggle.

“Oh I’m not worried about money, I get plenty of that from him.” you looked over at Jason, his eyes soft and gentle as they stared into yours, as if he was relinquishing in the moment that this was really happening.

That he’d be able to show you off, and know that people could fantasise about your little noises as much as they wanted, but could never have them for themselves.

“I’m gonna go get her prepped. I’ll call you when we’re ready.” Jason stated gruffly, tugging you along like a lost puppy to the bedroom.

You looked over your shoulder, giving the men a little wave and a soft smile as you were guided to the bedroom, before the door shut, leaving you with Jason.

Heat pooled between your legs at the look he gave you, his hard, rough exterior dropping as soon as he was alone with you. He sat on the edge of the bed, manspreading as he silently coaxed you over to him with two fingers.

“You feelin okay pretty?” he asked gently, hand reaching up to cup your cheek, to which you nuzzled into.

He was warm.

“I’m perfect.” you said, making him hum in content. “D’want me to make you feel good baby? Get you all nice n ready before they come- have some privacy?” he cooed, canines nipping at your neck as you giggled, letting him sweep you up and guide you on the bed, lying down under him.

“Jay?”

“Mmm?” he hummed against your skin, planting gentle kisses down your neck.

“You’re mine. Ya know? You’re always mine.”

He stilled, eyes darting up to meet yours, before swiftly kissing you on the mouth with so much passion it sent shivers down your spine as you moaned, arching into the kiss.

He tasted so sweet, so good. It was only when he parted you realized you needed air, letting out a little gasp.

“I know honey. You got that tattoo to prove it. I’m not worried.” he winked, patting your inner thigh gently at the little heart that poked out from under your skirt.

“And you know-” he leaned in close, breath hot and heavy as it ticked your ear. “No one can make you feel as good as I can. They may think they know you, what you like- but I know you sweetheart. You’re mine.”

You moaned, and he cooed at you in content as you wiggled your hips, desperate for friction.

“Can you lift those pretty lil legs for me honey? Drape them over my shoulders, like we always do?” you nodded, complying immediately as you bent them up, so your thigh high socks brushed his skin.

“Gooooood girl. You’re always so good, aren't you?”

His fingers darted down to feel the wet spot through your panties, the pads of his fingers moving in gentle circles as you groaned.

“J-jay-”

He quickly tugged off your little cotton panties in one fluid motion, exposing your bare cunt to him. He bent you forward even more, so your legs were near touching the bed behind you as he examined you.

“Such a pretty lil cunt. So tight too.” he chuckled, rubbing a finger through your soaked folds, tapping your clit and making you jump before he slid a finger in, making you moan loudly.

“Yeah, that's the spot isn't it? Hey, hey look at me-” he guided, other hand coming up to squeeze your cheeks together, making your eyes stare into his.

“It's just us, okay princess? Just you n me. Keep looking at me, I know, I know it feels so good doesnt it?”

“Yess, yes fuck Jay-”

“Thats not my name, sweetheart.” he tsked, curling his finger as he slowly started to pump in and out of you, making you mewl.

“Daddy fuck.” you moaned, head loling to the side as you let bliss take over you- his sign to add a second finger.

“You’re doing so well for me princess. Thats it.” he coaxed, smirking at the blissed out face you made as he went deeper.

The door creaked open, Jasons head whipping back to glare at the guys. “I thought I said I’d call you when shes ready?” he drawled, movements not faulting despite his divided attention.

“She sure as fuck sounds ready to me. Not my fault her pretty lil moans were like a sirens call. Fuck me.” Dick whistled, leaning against the door as he watched you with wide eyes, your head rolling to see him and Peter enter the room, looking at you in awe.

“Shes a natural.”

“She is natural. We don't fake around here, do we princess?” Jason asked, and you quickly shook your head before another broken moan escaped your lips as he curled his fingers again, just the way you liked.

“She likes praise. Rough play, depending on how rough. Some degradation, but I only use it if shes being bad. She may look it, but shes not breakable. Fuck her right.” Jason instructed them, acting like you werent right in front of them, overhearing all of this.

It kinda turned you on more honestly, the way they just kind of let you go.

“Shes so pretty.” Peter cooed, coming over to the bed side, placing a hand on your cheek- just as Jason had done a few moments prior. You nuzzled into his touch, breathing in the gentle smell of his cologne.

You could feel their eyes on you, but it didn't feel uncomfortable, like you were scared it would.

No, it felt… nice. Rewarding.

“I’m gona turn this on now, okay angel?”

You nodded, and the little right light flickered on. “F-fancy.” you hiccuped, making them all laugh.

“Very. Only the best for you.”

You sighed softly as Peters hand trailed down, down to your breasts, squeezing one gently.

“Be gentle with her.” Jason murmured again as he stood, letting the two other guys get a feel for you. It was only fair, you supposed.

“Hi pretty. Is it okay if I flip this up?” Dick asked, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt.

“Do you want it off?” you asked meekly, and he shook his head. “And not show the camera how cute you are in it? In this little getup?”

He pinched your thighs. “S’not a getup its just my clothes- ohhh!” you squealed as Dick was spreading your legs apart, tounge lapping at your cunt like a man starved.

Beofre you could get out another moan, Peters two fingers slid between your parted lips, and your eyes widened in surprise before you obidenly sucked on them.

“You get her like this all the time, dressed like this? Jesus Jason we might have to come drink here.” Peter groaned, Jason only letting out a grunt in reply as he palmed himself through his pants.

“You take it so well sweetheart. Making your little boyfriend over there all hot and bothered.”

You moaned, squirming before Dick squeezed your thighs tighter, forcing you to stay in place. You almost cried at the sensation, his tongue circling your clit, tugging on the little nub.

“Think she's ready?” Peter asked. “You kidding? She’s been ready this whole time. I just wanted to get a taste. So sweet.” Dick hummed, poking his head up from between your thighs, chin glistening in the soft light.

“I get her first. Shes my girlfriend.” Dick rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine yes, yes. So bossy, isnt he? Thats no fun.” Dick hummed as Peter slipped his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop!, a trail of salvia stringing to his digits.

“Ngh-” was all you could get out as Dick flipped you over with no effort, gentle hands rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“S’okay bunny. We’re gonna let you cum as many times as you want. You can make a mess, okay?”

You nodded feverishly. “Am I doing good?”

“So good princess. So good. Can you open your mouth for Peter?” You lolled your tongue out, looking up at the man with glazed over puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck…” he murmered as he tugged down his pants, bundling your hair up in his hand. You felt Jason come over to place a gentle tap on your ass, his indication he was about to enter you.

You clenched in anticipation, barely able to get out a word before they both entered you- from opposite ends.

It was bliss.

Your moan vibrated straight down Peter's dock and he hissed as the sensation, slowly starting to work your mouth in rhythm with Jasons gentle thrusts. He wasn't as rough as he usually was, and you knew it was because of the sudden changes in the bedroom.

He didn't want you to get overwhelmed, and you were thankful for it. All the attention had you buzzing, the praise spewing from their mouths sending like prayers at mass.

“Fuck princess you’re so fucking tight. Always so tight.” Jason growled, tossing his head back in bliss as he spread your ass, plunging into you deeper. You mewled, eyes staring up into Peters, full of lust.

He looked so beautiful, peering down at you from this angle. So tall and handsome, his happy trail brushed against your nose as you took him deep, gagging slightly at his size.

The sound just spurred him on even more, as he fucked your mouth harder, before you gasped for air, tears starting to stream from your waterline.

“S’much, so big-” you sputtered out, gasping for air, mascara smudging down your cheeks.

“My pretty little girl, did so good.” Dicks hands caressed you, hiking up your shirt, for the skin on skin contact.

He let out a little gasp, fingers tracing the ink that dotted your lower back. “My god…” he murmured at your tramp stamp that said princess, with little swirls and stars.

Jason had got it for you, holding your hand the whole time, and planting kisses on your head as you braved through the pain. You had wanted one for months, but could never find the courage to get one, or the money to be spending freely on things like that.

Until- you met Jason, of course.

“I know. Ain't she a treat? Helped her pick it out myself.” Jason smirked, giving your ass a smack.

“Daddy..” you whimpered, head falling down into the sheets without Peter's support.

“My turn. You’re on exposure therapy, remember?” Dick said, about to shoo Jason off before you cried out.

“W-wait I’m about to cum just- please, please-” you begged, more tears starting to stream down from your eyes from the overstimulation your body was feeling.

Legs began to shake as Jason grumbled something incoherent, fucking you harder and deeper, so hard you started to jolt forward down into the sheets.

You reached your hand out and you felt Peters hand cup over yours, his thumb softly stroking your skin in little circles. “You’re doing so good honey. You feelin good? Gonna cum for your daddies?"

You whimpered, nodding as you squeezed his hand as you cried out loudly, cumming on Jason's dick with no warning.

“Fuck. Fuck good girl princess I’m gonna fuck- fucking stay there and let me fill you up.” he groaned, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before you felt the warm, sticky liquid fill up your insides.

Dicks eyes widened in shock, completely forgetting about the camera that was currently focused on the four of you, whipping his head to Jason.

“Wait can you d-”

“M’on the pill.” you heaved out, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck. Fuckin hell, move.” Dick groaned, quickly taking Jasons place, wasting no time to plunge deep into you, shoving Jasons leaking cum back inside as he fucked you slowly.

You swore you saw stars behind your eyes as Peter started to slip his fingers back in your mouth, relieving your oral fixation.

You cried out, muffed between his digits as Dick picked up the pace, just as Jason did. Hitting spots you could only dream of.

“I know baby I know that was a stretch wasn’t it? But I promise it’ll feel so good, you’re doing so good for me- aren’t you? My sweet thing.” he cooed, making your eyes roll.

“J-jay is s’much. So, so much.”

“I know princess, you wanna stop? Just say your word.”

You shook your head. “N-gh- no I wanna keep going just- just need you here.” you reached for his hand squeezing it as well.

It was so big and rough, swallowing your palm whole. You looked over into his soft gaze, a little smile on his face that he saved only for you.

“I’m here princess. Daddys right here for his lil girl.”

[blairxbear]

When they realise they are in love with you.

MHA Class 1A Head cannons

Izuku Midoriya

• He doesn’t realize it at first—it hits him like a train when someone else points it out.

• You’re patching up his wounds after a battle, scolding him like usual, and he just stares at you.

• “They care about me so much… I don’t ever want to lose them.”

• That’s when it clicks—his face turns beet red, and he literally short-circuits trying to process it.

• He starts writing about you in his notebooks, not just as a hero, but as his hero.

• Tries to confess a dozen times but ends up stammering and running away.

Katsuki Bakugo

• He freaking hates it when he realizes he’s in love.

• He notices he gets jealous when you talk to others too casually.

• He starts training even harder because he wants to be stronger for you.

• The moment it fully hits him? You defend him from someone bad-mouthing him, and his chest tightens.

• “Shit… I don’t just like them. I love them.”

• He won’t say it out loud but becomes insanely protective overnight.

• If someone flirts with you, he glares daggers and pulls you closer.

• His confession is awkward but genuine—probably blurts out “I love you, okay?! Now deal with it!”

Shoto Todoroki

• Love isn’t something he understands right away—it’s foreign but comforting.

• He notices he trusts you more than anyone else and actually wants to be around you.

• One day, you brush a strand of hair from his face, and his heart skips a beat.

• “Why does my chest feel warm? Is this…?”

• He spends weeks thinking about what this feeling means.

• His father’s influence made him fear attachment, but with you, he feels safe.

• He realizes he loves you when he catches himself smiling for no reason just because you exist.

• When he confesses, it’s simple but deeply meaningful—“I think I love you. No, I know I do.”

Eijiro Kirishima

• He’s the type to fall fast and hard, but he won’t admit it until it hits him like an explosion.

• You do something small but meaningful, like fixing his hair or remembering his favorite drink, and suddenly, he’s melting.

• His brain just goes: “Oh no. Oh NO. I LOVE THEM.”

• The moment he realizes it, he becomes the most obvious person alive—grinning like an idiot, blushing when you compliment him.

• Denki figures it out first and teases him relentlessly.

• He confesses spontaneously—probably during training or when you’re just hanging out.

• “Hey… I, uh, love you. Like, really love you.”

Denki Kaminari

• He thinks he’s just crushing on you, but one night, you laugh at one of his dumb jokes, and his heart flips.

• “Wait… why do I want to make them laugh forever?”

• He starts noticing the little things—the way your eyes sparkle, the way you say his name.

• Suddenly, every love song reminds him of you.

• He realizes he loves you when you comfort him after a bad day, holding his hand without judgment.

• He panics—freaks out and tells Sero before he even tells you.

• Ends up blurting it out without thinking—probably during a sparring session.

• “Oh, shit—did I just say that out loud? …Well, I meant it.”

Henta Sero

• Realizes it slowly but surely—love creeps up on him like his tape until it’s wrapped around his heart.

• It happens during a casual hangout, maybe when you’re laughing at one of his dumb jokes.

• “Damn, I’d do anything to hear that laugh every day.”

• His friends notice before he does because he starts bringing you up in every conversation.

• “Oh, Y/N likes that movie too!” “Y/N would totally win this game.”

• When he realizes, he’s cool about it but lowkey dying inside.

• He confesses casually but sweetly, probably while sharing a snack.

• “So… I’m kinda in love with you. Thought you should know.”

Fumikage Tokoyami

• He doesn’t see it as love at first—he calls it “a deep admiration”.

• Dark Shadow calls him out first: “Dude, you’re OBSESSED.”

• He realizes he loves you when he misses you more than he should.

• The thought of you being hurt makes his blood run cold—he becomes fiercely protective.

• He confesses in a poetic and dramatic way—probably quotes some gothic literature.

• “My heart, once shrouded in darkness, now finds solace in you.”

• He’s nervous about whether you’ll accept him, but when you do, he’s deeply devoted.

Tenya Iida

• Love is logical to him, so he doesn’t understand why his brain short-circuits around you.

• Realizes it when he starts worrying about you more than necessary.

• “Are they drinking enough water? Did they eat today? Should I check on them?”

• The real moment? You tell him to relax, placing a hand on his arm, and suddenly, his heart is racing.

• He denies it at first—tries to rationalize it.

• But one day, you cheer for him in a match, and it clicks—he wants you by his side forever.

• His confession is formal but flustered—“I have come to the realization that I love you. I hope you will accept my feelings.”

Mashirao Ojiro

• He falls first but doesn’t say anything—he’s the quiet type about his feelings.

• The moment he realizes? Sparring with you, when you pin him down and smirk.

• “Oh, I’m completely in love with them.”

• He acts normal but becomes a little more protective, a little more soft-spoken around you.

• His tail wags when you’re near, and he hates that everyone notices.

• He confesses simply but sincerely—probably under the stars or after training.

• “I love you. I don’t need anything back, I just wanted you to know.”

Mezo Shoji

• Realizes it when he starts looking forward to your voice every day.

• He’s always been reserved, but you make him feel safe.

• The moment he knows? You tell him he’s beautiful, and he nearly chokes on air.

• “They… they actually see me.”

• His confession is quiet but meaningful—probably late at night when you’re alone.

• “You’re the only one who makes me feel like this. I think… no, I know I love you.”

Rikido Sato

• He realizes he’s in love while baking—he catches himself making extra portions just for you, even when you’re not around.

• One day, you sneak into the kitchen to help, and he watches you struggle with frosting a cupcake.

• Instead of laughing, he just smiles fondly and thinks, “I want to do this with them forever.”

• The moment it really clicks is when you try his baking and get so excited, giving him the biggest grin.

• His heart pounds, and suddenly, the sweetest thing in the room isn’t the cake.

• Becomes super flustered around you after that, fumbling with ingredients and spacing out.

• His confession is adorably shy, probably over a homemade dessert.

• “I, uh… I made this for you. And also, I think I love you.”

Koji Koda

• He falls slowly but deeply, and it takes a while for him to understand his feelings.

• He realizes it when he notices the way animals react to you—his rabbits love you, birds always fly near, and even skittish animals trust you.

• One day, you rescue a tiny injured bird, and as he watches you care for it so gently, his heart swells.

• “They’re so kind… I never want to leave their side.”

• The next time you smile at him, his whole face turns red, and he gets so nervous he forgets how to talk.

• Starts getting extra shy around you, but his actions speak louder—always carrying things for you, making sure you’re safe, sitting near you quietly.

• His confession is soft but heartfelt, maybe while watching the sunset with you.

• “I… I think I love you. You make my world so much brighter.”

[kaisentine]

is the mikage corp’s heir trying to steal your man? you know that he probably is.

purple is a unique color, purple is a noticeable hair color, purple is a striking eye color, purple is the color you can see from your peripheral vision when nagi is snuggling up against your side.

“sei . . . did you invite mikage?” you lean down to whisper in his ear—referring to reo as mikage because you aren’t at all close at him nor do you think he likes you. anyway, nagi didn’t mention anything about inviting his best friend today.

he’s too lazy to look at you to respond but you see the way his head just barely moves when he opens his mouth, “nope.” he matches the volume of your voice. so was this considered a break in or . . ?

you fight the urge to cling onto nagi like a koala because reo just keeps . . . staring. “sei, he’s literally in your apartment.” you deadpan as quietly as possible whilst trying to keep audible for him to hear because you know damn well he’s about to fall asleep right on you shoulder.

this time, he moves his head to look up at you. then his eyes start wandering off to the side—did he finally see him? you get the answer when he starts speaking. “reo? why’re you here?” he asks the purple haired male—not bothering to mention how he got in because nagi was the one who gave him the keys.

finally, he actually steps out of the shadows. he looks scary like this, giving you a deadly glare. “sorry, did i interrupt? i was just going to check in on you.” he quickly switches up when answering your boyfriend. obviously he interrupted something . . . but to your dismay, nagi only shakes his head.

the night ends with nagi sandwiched by two people: his very lovely amazing partner and reo.

it feels like you’re in a constant competition with mikage reo. the way you lowkey have to fight with him to snag the place beside nagi.

you and reo glare at each other as soon as you guys see the vacant spot on nagi’s left side. it’s gonna be a race that reo wins, you know that for sure—you’re not even gonna try to win against a freaking scary 6’1 soccer player.

so while he is fast walking to his best friend’s side, you’re taking slow strides to catch up. it’s only a matter of seconds before he sits his ass down triumphantly in victory—you roll your eyes at him. when you do get to the destination, you’re giving him the “i’m gonna win in the end anyway” type of glare.

nagi obviously doesn’t care,he probably doesn’t even know what just transpired because he’s still on his phone playing some video game.

“sei, you’re still on that game?” you ask, standing on the other side beside him. he hums as a little yes to your question, you let out a fake chuckle. “you’ve been playing for too long, i wanted to show you something.” you pout and almost direct an evil grin to reo but stop because nagi pauses his game to look at you, grey eyes lazily staring back at you. “what’d you wanna show me?” he’s interested now, he hates surprises because it’s too much of a hassle to think about what it could be. “it’s in your bedroom,” you put an innocent smile at the end and he’s already jumping out of his chair. when you’re both leaving reo to sulk on the counter, you turn back to flash him a devious smile—the one you intended to give him the first time.

“we’ll be right back,” said nagi.

you guys were in-fact not right back.

reo later found you guys sleeping on nagi’s bed, bodies all up against each other.

i don’t think nagi understands the phrase “bros before hoes” nor does he understand “hoes before bros”. . . he doesn’t really care—he’s too lazy to give a fuck.

sticky note. i feel like nagi is lowkey a red flag or probably a yellow ( beige??? ) flag . . .

[flippinpancakes64]

How would the cullens (separately) react to a really flirtatious reader. Like where reader makes flirtatious jokes and comments about them all the time and how they would react to the reader doing that in front of other people?

The Cullens with a flirty! Reader

Am I back in my Twilight phase? Who knows. Only time will tell.

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He can hear them before you speak

And if he could blush, he would

He’s one of the more traditional people, probably the most stuck in his ways out of all of them

All that to say he goes crazy over an ankle showing

Any comments you make about him have him (mentally) blushing and telling you to stop

Now don’t get me wrong, he can dish it out too

But only in private

The moment he hears you formulating a flirty thought in your brain, his hand is covering your mouth

You rarely ever get the jump on him

He might let you speak your mind in private

But you can already forget about saying anything with others around

Alice:

She would beat you to it every single time

She’s the flirty type

Y’all match each other’s freaks

You two have had compliment wars where you guys just go back and forth flirting

She loves it though

Every compliment, every innuendo, makes her fall deeper in love with you

And if you go out of your way to flirt with her in public, she goes feral

She loves being loved and you are more than happy to do that for her

Also you can’t embarrass her

You’re talking about how sexy she looks in that dress in front of a group of classmates?

She doesn’t care

She’ll retort back about how she can’t wait to get you back home later

When they go low I go lower type beat

Jasper:

Bro is a Casanova

Absolute sweet talker

But only in private

The moment you try to flirt with him outside of the confines of your or his rooms, he’s out of his element

Again, if vampires could blush, his face would be bright red

He always gets mildly annoyed when you say insinuating stuff in public

Not actually annoyed but more of like a

“Come on, really? Now? Here?”

The truth is that he loves the attention

Just maybe not outside of the bedroom

Rosalie:

She can def take it and dish it out

If you two are together, she is your ride or die

And she wants everyone to know

She’s not shy about flirting with you in public

And she never says no to you flirting with her

She welcomes it, actually

She loves the idea of fully being someone’s

Of her partner not being afraid to show her off and publicly admit how much they love her

Some would call it vanity

Or ego

But she calls it love

Emmett:

Oh sweet Emmett

He loves it

No ifs ands or buts

He feels like he’s on cloud nine when you flirt with him

And trust me, whatever you’ve got to say, he has much worse

I think he has a dirty mind

Definitely similar to Alice in the if you go low I go lower department

You’re out with friends and you make a flirty comment?

He’s going to go on a whole rant about how much he loves *insert specific body part of yours*

So yeah he basically has no shame

Say what you want

Just be prepared to be outdone

Esme:

I feel like she’s similar to Edward in this department

She loves the flirty compliments in private

But she gets all flustered in public

Cause wdym you’re at the store with her and now you’re talking about melons??

She’s gonna leave you behind to find your own way back

She gets embarrassed in private too

But it’s not as bad as in public

At least in private yall are left to yourselves

(Save for Edward unwillingly eavesdropping)

Definitely the type to smack you playfully

“Babe are you from tennessee? Cause I’m tryin-to-see them titti-“

*Smack* “Not another word.”

Carlisle:

He thinks it’s funny

He doesn’t really take it too seriously

You like his man boobs?

That’s nice sweetie

Very pacifistic about it

Doesn’t care if you’re in public or private

He loves you and your antics either way

The only time I could really see him caring would be if you came to visit him at work

As long as he’s wearing his coat, he needs to be professional

So that’s where he draws the line

Vampire! Bella:

I get mixed feelings about her

I can’t decide if she would love it or absolutely hate it

On the one hand, she would definitely love the silly jokes and all the attention

She has lower self esteem, and being able to know for sure that your partner finds you desirable is a great thing

On the other hand

Whenever you flirt with her in public she feels like she’s gonna die

She knows it doesn’t really matter

She’s a Cullen now

But she’ll be damned if that little anxious voice in the back of her head isn’t still there

[dumbgoondog]

Yuji nsfw alphabet please 🙏🥺 more Yuji content in general please!

Sure! Here’s the alphabet! Good to know ya wanna see more of him! Mahito, Sukuna, and Yuji fans who knew? These three would be my most requested and popular?

MDNI +18 NSFW

Cw/Tw - Blood, public, primal play

Yuji Itadori NSFW Alphabet

(A)ftercare - Oh he is the sweetest. He’s not a pampering type, he’s still a bit of an awkward guy. Don’t think he’s not caring tho. See for him sex puts him in a zone, a mental regression. He gets it somewhere, dunno where from tho! He’s holding you, massaging you, rubbing against you, please also give him some aftercare cuz regression to back to normal is a little vulnerable. I do NOT mean age regression, I’m talking primal.

(B)ody Part - Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass! Ass ass? Assssss! Ass ass ass?! Ass!! Ass ass… Ass? Ass.

(C)um - He wants to cum inside, but be careful, ever let him go at it raw? And he’ll NEVER want to wear a condom EVER again. oh but he’s so chill and will get a vasectomy if you require it.

(D)irty Secret - That he’s a freak. On a primal level, he’s like Mahito, he’s like Sukuna. The worst part? He didn’t realize he was until he met you. It was too late, he could never turn this side of him off now. He wants to have you worship him as the king of curses, which he HATES. And loves. He wants to hunt you like prey and pin you force you to submit and bite into you to mark you as HIS mate. Yeah… tip of the iceberg and he’s the titanic.

(E)xperience - None. His hand and that’s it. He’s not even kissed anyone. Why? He’ll shrug and jus be like “I dunno, wasn’t anything that I was looking for I guess.”

(F)avorite Position - lay flat, or standing, and he’s hitting it from behind. So he can watch your ass shake with every smack of his hips, he also likes when you try to look back at him in that position.

(G)oofy - he can be goofy, but in like… a pathetic way. Humping your leg, and whimpering. Pawing at your clothes cuz his brain has turned off. He’s still so sweet tho

(H)air - messy, pink, washed, a little musky, happy trail, trail down the balls. Oh but ya know what? He likes YOU unshaven. Rainforest pussy, dick bush, all of it. He prefers hair, he doesn’t mind the shaved look tho. He guesses… but maybe he can convince you to grow it out? A little bit? Even just a patch! Please?

(I)ntimacy - he is SO romantic. Picnics, buying you gifts constantly, taking you out on dates to movies and dinners. In bed he tries. Hard. He needs practice so bear with him okay? If something happens even while his brain is off his primal brain still responds to it because he LOVES you. It’s noises of concern like little rumbles and huffs. Animal wise I’d liken it to a tiger ape hybrid in noises. He’s giving kisses and licks, he responds to safe words like a trained dog too. He also can be trained in that state to new words since sentences might get lost on him.

(J)ack off - Often. More than you’d think. He was a stressed and angry teen boy, and without any too many outlets… well he developed some habits and seeking dopamine! Like jacking off! Stress relief! Anger? No problem! Bored? Easy! Besides you don’t think that poster was cuz he liked the swimsuit, do you? Why mention Jennifer Lawrence? He knew his answer quick for Todo too.

(K)ink - please shackle him. As much as he will protest, he does like it. He likes being restrained, and letting his primal brain play into it too! Blindfolds, gags/muzzles even, and cuffs! He wants to let go and really get feral… a collar yeah? Get him one.

(L)ocation - outside. On the grass. In the forest. Please let him chase you. Or even! Chase you in the house! He’ll be a good boy and not go as fast as he can go… to start.

(M)otivation - honestly not much. He has to already be in the mood, otherwise he’s not thinking about it. However. Teasing him in public will get him riled up.

(N)o - No feet. Please. He can’t take it seriously! He’s so sorry he just can’t! It’s the funny haha kink meme! He won’t make fun of it to your face if you’re into, but if you aren’t he will make jokes about it with you! Like “oooo baby you just finished working out? Bet your feet are all hot and sweaty~! Bahahahah!”

(O)ral - Mlem mlem mlem mlem mlem mlem, in his mouth! In mouth! Please! Yum yum! Eatin fingers, Eatin other shit, Eatin everything! He’s a hungry boy!

(P)ace - BAP BAP BAP BAP BAP *grunts and growls like a sexy alpha* BAP BAP BAP BAP- fr tho he’s thumpin his hips into you like he’s punching Mahito’s face. Then he’ll take pauses where he pushes all the way in and grinds his hips into yours, grinding as deep in as he can.

(Q)uicky - Not really, just not his style… but if it’s giving you oral? Yes please!

(R)isk - oh. Oh. OH. He did not know he was into this! Please please please grind against him, push back onto him and tell him to keep it together cuz he can’t let go, not out here.

(S)tamina - yuh. He’s better than unc when it comes to cumming multiple times but in overall stamina unc still beats him. He’s going at it for a good while, as long as you’re good with it and want it!

(T)oys - okay. He’s kinda dumb about toys. Dunno why it’s just my read on him. But he likes how you react when used on you! He’s a big butt plug fan for you as well… he’s a bit shy about it tho

(U)nfair - he doesn’t really tease! Sometimes he will tho, and it’s public teasing of him fingering/groping you. He’s not grinding against you in public, but he’s got a hand on you while he’s smiling and talking to someone like nothings happening

(V)olume - he’s a bit loud, growls and grunts not too loud but when he opens and hangs his mouth open and starts pant huffing he can get loud and a bit wild with it!

(W)ild Card - he… he’s kinda thinking about the tattoos. They’re so cool he hates that they’re so cool! But he’d look so good, better than that asshole for sure! He thinks he’d look hot too!

(X)-ray - plaid boxers and boxer briefs… but also he’s got some really stupid ones. Human earthworm boxers for sure! White ones with hearts to match with his besto friendo, too.

(Y)es - Coming as a surprise, he’s open to threesomes and even foursomes! He’s not specifically thought of anyone, but it just sounds nice!

(Z)zz - yes yes! Put on a show! Cuddle! Eat snacks and drink pop! Get all lazy, let him rub your stomach, drift off together and sleep! Yessss!

[wannabeschyulersister]

a big question

“You’ve been unusually quiet today. It’s strange. What’s on your mind?” You asked, growing weary of the silence.

Pedro took a deep breath, “There’s something that I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh my God! Are you breaking up with me?” you blurted out, “Is it because of the small scratch I accidentally got on your car? I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice that pole and-“

Pedro swiftly reached over and grasped your hand. “(Y/n), take a deep breath. Don’t worry, Amor. I’m not breaking up with you. I would be foolish to let you go.”

His words had a calming effect on your heart. With each deep breath, your anxiety gradually faded.

“Sorry, then what is it?”

Pedro still held your hand, gently rubbing it with his thumb. “I’d love to spend more time with you. It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

His words touched your heart. You both had been swamped with work lately, with Pedro about to start filming the first movie in what you could guess would be a long series.

You were in the thick of filming season two of a drama series on Hulu. There were already whispers of it getting renewed for seasons three and four. You were over the moon about the job security, but it came at a price - it strained your relationship.

Pedro was off filming overseas for a few months in a matter of weeks, while you’d be stuck in New York. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the same worries as him.

“I want to spend more time with you too, babe. I could be in London as soon as we wrap filming. I think I’d have at least three weeks free before anything else pops up.”

“And I’ll enjoy every minute of you joining me…”

“But?” It seemed like he had something else on his mind.

Pedro looked down at your intertwined hands and said, “I don’t want you to panic about what I’m about to ask you.”

You managed to suppress your “freak out” until he posed his question.

“I know we’ve discussed taking things at our own pace and not letting other people’s timelines influence our relationship.”

You nodded and softly said, “Yeah.”

“But I believe we’re ready for the next phase. (Y/n), I want you to move in with me.”

You reached over and gently shoved his good shoulder, causing him to budge slightly. “That’s it?!”

Pedro chuckled at your reaction, “What do you mean?”

“I’m over here thinking that I’m about to be dumped!”

He reached over and grabbed your other hand as well, “I apologize for the scare. What are your thoughts? Would you like to move in with me? I would love to wake up next to you every day. I would love to see more of your things around this place.”

“You could’ve asked in a better way.” You mumbled jokingly.

“Amor!” Pedro laughed, “Is that a yes or a no?”

You stood from your seat and walked around the table. He pulled you onto his lap, pressing a tender kiss to your neck.

“Yes, I’d love to move in with you, Pedro.”

You sealed your answer with a sweet kiss from the man you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with.

Pedro ended the kiss way too soon, “Wait, did you say you scratched my car?”

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Sunday is your mirror, as you are his — or, how meeting him spells your doom, just like losing you spells his.

HSR Masterlist

Pairing: Sunday x Reader

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warnings: female reader, second person in some parts and third person sunday pov in others, religious themes because…it’s sunday…, not canon compliant because idk wtf happened in penacony and i don’t feel like figuring it out, not lore compliant either because i’m #toocool for that, ooc because i wanted to make sunday a freak, major character death but not really on screen just mentioned/implied, unreliable narrators, halovians are Very Different (both from their canon depictions and from humans in general), robin mentioned but she’s also probs ooc idfk i’ve never written for honkai star rail and i’ve played for like a month tops, sunday is a d1 piner, sunday loses it, sunday crashes out, weird narrative structure, very nonsensical, in terms of endings we have no endings (it’s like open to interpretation ig), m1ckeyb3rry’s monthly drop of MID

A/N: i wrote this really quickly for my beloved illu’s birthday!! unfortunately i didn’t get the idea until like two days after the date itself so it’s a bit late LMAOO also it sucks but. it has SUNDAY !! my first foray into the hsr verse…hehe…anyways illu i could go on about how much i appreciate you and how glad i am that we’re friends but for the sake of conciseness i shall leave it at HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY GOAT @milksnake-tea I LOOK FORWARD TO ANOTHER YEAR OF CRASHING OUT TOGETHER 🙂‍↕️💖 LOVE AND KISSES I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS A BIT!!!

There is a ghost waiting for him in the confessional booth. Velvet curtains cover the latticed wood, obscuring its contents from his view, but the effect comes to nothing. He knows she’s there, he always does, he can feel her presence. It’s a chill seeping into his bones as he kneels — he doesn’t need to kneel, of course he doesn’t need to, but it’s a habit he’s yet unwilling to break — and clasps his hands together. It’s a supplication for something, but it isn’t until his mouth is opening of its own volition, his wings fluttering in alarm and his eyes widening as the words are wrenched from his lips, that he realizes what he’s begging for.

“Please,” he whispers. His voice echoes in the empty room, mocking him, teasing him. Please. Please. What right does he have to ask her anything? He’s sure that’s what she’s thinking. He’s sure she’s laughing in that odd way of hers, and his throat constricts at the image. “Please—”

Forgive me? It reverberates in his mind, that fragment of a thought, jagged at the edges, sharp like a blade and twice as cruel. Isn’t that it? Forgive me. Forgive me. Please, forgive me. 

“Condemn me,” he says instead, and then he’s struck by a burst of anger, hot and unyielding and entirely at odds with the weight of his tongue in his mouth, which is all leaden and unwieldy and clumsy and despicable. “Condemn me or forgive me or what have you!”

He waits, as he always does. One, two, three. He counts on his fingers, an invisible metronome ticking in his mind, mechanical and perfect in rhythm, keeping time for his vigil. Four, five, six. The curtain flutters in a phantom breeze, and for a second he can pretend that he sees a flash of bright in the darkness of the booth, a dancing shade like a glittering iris peering back at him. Seven, eight, nine. He doesn’t care what she says. He doesn’t care about any of it. As long as she says something, it’s fine. Condemn me. Forgive me. He’s not sure which he would prefer at this point.

Ten.

The ghost is silent.

The first time you met Sunday, it was raining. Everything about him was limp in the storm — his clothes, the fabric clinging to his slender frame; his hair, spilling onto his pale brow and trailing down his mannequin-straight back; even his wings, which drooped miserably towards his shoulders, the preened feathers translucent at the edges from dampness. 

When he turned to glance at you, you expected his demeanor to shimmer with the famous benevolence of his family. Sunday Oak, the heir, the young lord; certainly there would be a kindness to him, a gentleness permeating throughout the very essence of his being. Certainly he had been born a saint, anointed in the waters of his mother’s womb before he could even draw breath, incapable of humanity’s many shortcomings and fallacies. Certainly these things were true, and that was why it frightened you all the more when, for one singular moment, his impassive mien crumpled into a glare, as baleful as it was captivating.

His eyes were a sharp, canny gold, feline in both shape and shrewdness, framed by lashes clumped together with wet. They were terrible in the way of a dying star, that peculiar brand of horror so beautiful that it was impossible to look away, and indeed you stood transfixed until he cleared his throat and arranged his face into a polite smile. 

“I wasn’t aware we had visitors today,” he said. He spoke carefully, perfunctorily, reading from a script he must’ve memorized long ago. You stiffened, for although he had not given you any reason to think it, you were suddenly very certain that you were not supposed to see him like this, his fingers curling over the slick rail of his balcony, his dark abdominal wings folded tightly over his stomach and his halo dull in whatever light struggled through the clouded sky.

“I was just leaving,” you said. “I must have made a wrong turn. I apologize for disturbing you, sir.”

“You needn’t apologize,” he said, and there he was, the man who you had expected: Sunday, the scion of the Oak Family. Gracious Sunday; magnanimous Sunday; Sunday the prince and Sunday the saint. He was so finely constructed it made you wince, his blinding delicacy and keen refinement eerie, preternatural. A baser instinct of yours told you to run, reminding you of a time when those of his kind ruled over humanity with impunity, pleading with you to save yourself before it was too late.

You bit back your fear so hard that blood exploded over your palate, salty and sweet in turn, viscous as you swallowed it back and offered him a smile. He did not return it in full, but the corners of his mouth curled up slightly. That should’ve been soothing, but it only served to worsen the electric anxiety running through your veins.

“I shall call my sister and tell her to fetch you,” he said. “I would hate for you to find the Oaks remiss in our hospitality. I am sincerely sorry that you were not given an escort earlier.”

There were so many things you could say to him. I ran. Does that make me remiss? I’m the one who ran from them. You could reassure him, promise him that you would be alright on your own and there was no need for Robin to come. You could do any of these things, yet you were frozen like an insect in the amber of his stare, and so you did not.

“Thank you,” you said, bowing slightly, lowering your eyes to his leather shoes in a valiant attempt to free yourself, “for your generosity.”

“Do you think it’s possible for people to forgive themselves?” he asks his sister. They’re sitting in the parlor, porcelain teacups in their hands, pinkie fingers raised primly in the air. His sister’s cup is chipped at the base, but every time he tries to throw it away, she pitches a fit, which is so uncharacteristic of her that it renders him speechless. This one is special, she insists. There’s doves painted on it. See?

It isn’t special, there’s countless others exactly like it, but he caves to her whims far too easily, as he always does. He’s prone to it, after all; she wants for things so rarely as it is, which means denying her few requests when she makes them is nigh-impossible. So he allows her to keep the ruined cup, on the condition that in his presence, she holds it in her left hand, for he never wants to see the blemish again.

“I’m not sure,” she says. Her voice is always dreamy, but as of late there’s been a tangible sadness to it. He’s asked her what’s troubling her countless times, but his every attempt is met with a shake of her head and a solemn oath that it’s nothing. “Maybe.”

“I don’t think that it is,” he says. “At least not at first. You can’t forgive yourself before you’re forgiven by anyone else.”

“If you were already so sure of the answer, brother,” she says, cocking her head at him, “then why did you ask?”

“Hm?” he says, furrowing his brow. She takes a sip of her tea, and maybe it’s the angle or maybe it’s a trick of the light, but he swears that that dammed chip is taunting him, smarting like a peeled-off scab.

“It’s a strange practice of yours,” his sister says, batting her eyes at him in a way that makes him feel shrunken and tiny, as if she knows everything and he knows nothing, although by all rights it’s the other way around.

“What do you mean by that?” he presses, voice coming out harsher than he’d like. Cringing, he sets his teacup down and folds his hands in his lap. “My apologies, sister. I — I did not mean to speak to you in that way.”

She raises her drink to her lips, smiling at him over the dove-painted rim, and says nothing more.

Robin Oak was like nightshade, the most beautiful flower you had ever seen and, incidentally, the most poisonous. She was lilac where Sunday was silver and sapphire where he was gold, but although the edges of her halo and her face were rounder than her brother’s, as malleable as he was rigid, she was no softer than he. Perhaps she was even colder for it, all the more deadly, unassuming and quiet, poised to strike with a warbling song and a tittering giggle.

“Hello,” she said, and although the two of you were ostensibly having a normal conversation, she still talked like there was a song in her voice, her cadence lyrical and amused. “We’ve been looking for you for a while.”

“I didn’t go very far,” you said, following after her as she navigated the hallways without hesitation.

“Of course not,” she agreed. “But who would’ve thought you’d end up in Sunday’s room?”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you said, cheeks heating up at the sly implication. “I sincerely thought I had happened upon some study or restroom where I might recuperate.”

“He does keep his surroundings austere,” she said. “I’ve tried to convince him to hang up paintings or photographs, but he refuses. He’s like that.”

“I see,” you said, as neutrally as possible. Robin must’ve sensed your disinterest, for with a soft, breathy, chuckle, she steered the conversation away from her brother and to another subject entirely.

“Ah, you mentioned recuperation? Do parties tire you, too?” she said, and maybe it was manipulation or maybe it was genuine kindness, but it disarmed you all the same. Bashfully, you nodded, your shoulders hunching in on themselves involuntarily as you continued down the corridor.

“They are exhausting. I can never handle them for more than a few minutes at a time,” you confessed. She wrapped an arm around your torso, a companionable vice of a grip, and although you shouldn’t have been, you were surprised to feel that her skin was blazing to the touch.

“Nor can I,” she said. “There’s a commonality. Let’s be friends.”

It was a command, not a request. You knew better than to believe that Robin Oak would request anything; the world was at her feet, the universe shifting so that her words became truth, so why would she bother with questions and hesitance the way the rest of you did? She was no more human than Sunday. She was even less, only just as good at pretending, at painting on a doll-like mask to disguise her lies.

“Well, then it is a pleasure to be your friend,” you said.

“Don’t talk like that,” she protested.

“Like what?” you said.

“Like I’m somebody important, or like I have a status worthy of only the highest respect,” she said.

“But you do,” you said. She nudged you in the side with some measure of eagerness.

“No, no, forget about that,” she said. “I’m just like you, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, even though that could not be further from the truth, even though she could not be further from you.

“I swear on truth,” he says to the congregation, the beige churchgoers in their beige robes with adoration sparkling in their devoted eyes. “I swear on the calendar. I swear on words. I swear on values. I swear on rules. I swear on meaning. I swear on—”

A chill rushes down his spine, icy fingers grabbing onto the roots of his wings and yanking. He hisses under his breath, prayers of rebuke and protection, nails digging into his palms as he chants furiously, lips moving too fast for the gatherers to understand what he is doing.

Anxious murmurs arise like the songs of a choir the longer and longer he is frozen. Somebody coughs. A child whines audibly. He continues his chanting. 

Ena, the Order; Xipe, the Harmony; defend me in this tribulation. Curse this evil, bind its spirit and banish it to whence it came. I swear on truth, I swear on the calendar, I swear on words, I swear on values, I swear on rules, I swear on meaning, I swear on—

The hair by the nape of his neck is ruffled, and then the sensation vanishes and he is left alone once more. He is grateful for only a moment before he mourns her absence with a sudden savagery that takes even himself by surprise. It’s a contradiction, but she is a contradiction, so it’s fitting. He could never understand her before, so why should it be different now?

Clearing his throat and subtly adjusting his lapels, he raises his hands to silence the throngs of worshippers. They do his bidding at once, and he closes his eyes so that he does not have to see their naïveté at this final part, so that he is speaking to himself and the ghost alone — because nobody else matters in the end.

“I swear,” he says, his heart beating faster and faster until it is almost bursting from his chest and pounding in his skull, “on human dignity.”

What do Halovians know of human dignity?

“Nothing,” he says, responding to the unasked question as he turns away from the others, away from their applause and their grins. His wings cover his eyes and his hands cover his ears as he leaves the cavernous hall, the thunder of laudation fading and fading, replaced with nothing but a whistling, lonely emptiness. “They know nothing.”

He pauses, his eyes darting around surreptitiously. Then, when he is sure he is alone, he continues, under his breath so that no one can hear even if they try very hard to.

“I know nothing.”

He is sure of this much, at least.

On Halovians:

They abide by a so-called “divine creed” which they refuse to divulge to outsiders. However, they maintain that if they break these secretive laws, they are punished severely in what amounts to a foreshortened process of decay. Their holiness and altruism is, thus, not a choice but a compulsion; the one sin they are permitted is lying, and many will spin tall tales as a form of indulgence.

They are comparable in ability to the sirens from Lucyke — indeed, many researchers believe the species share a common ancestor and are one of many examples of divergent evolution found throughout the cosmos. They are nonthreatening when approached, capable of rational thought and intelligent speech, and have advanced societies with defined familial structures; hence, they are classified as a Level 0 Intelligent Species.

His halo is cracking. He doesn’t know when it began, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say he doesn’t want to know, but regardless it’s happening. The burnished gold, once a plain, gleaming expanse, is now marred by thin, unmistakeable fissures in the shape of spiderwebs. At first, he can only stare at his reflection in abject horror, but then he’s stuffing his fist in his mouth and screaming. 

What will people think? When they see it, they will know what he has done. It’s tainting him. It’s above him and behind him and all around and he can’t escape, he can’t do anything, his halo is cracking and he’s screaming and she’s there again.

“Stop it,” he snaps. “Stop coming back. If you’re only here to torment me, then — then stop it!”

Is she laughing? She must be. She always laughs at him, always finds him so curious. An oddity. A Halovian. He’s not like her, she’s fond of reminding him, he’s different. He’s born for the Harmony and the sky. He’s born for a purpose greater than hers, with black wings and a bright halo and a tongue made to lie.

“Don’t leave,” he says when she begins to withdraw. “Hey. Hey. Don’t leave — don’t leave me — I can’t — don’t!”

Her absence is like a hole carved into his stomach daily anew, and if his wings weren’t losing their feathers so rapidly, he’d fold them over the gaping wound in an attempt to disguise it, to transform it, to hold himself together until he can once again become whole in earnest.

It’s pitiful. He’s pitiful. He longs for a ghost who he despises, a ghost of his own making, a ghost who is pulling apart his halo and his wings and his sanity alike. She is ruining him and he is powerless to stop her; somewhere deep inside of him, he’s not sure if he even wants to. This is what he’s owed. This is what he deserves. No matter how much he begs, she will not forgive him; no matter how much he prays, he will not forgive himself.

This time when he screams, he does not bother with muffling it.

You were certain that, in the pools of her mind, in places unknowable and unreachable, Robin believed that she loved you. She repeated that lie so often that she fooled everyone, even herself — everyone, of course, but you. You knew the truth. You knew that she never had, that she never would, that she never could.

“This is my very best friend in the entire universe,” she’d say, holding your palm against her heart. “I love her.”

She carried it like a trophy or a weapon, that meaningless phrase. I love her. Lilac instead of silver. Sapphire instead of gold. I am not a Halovian. That was what she really wanted to say. That was what you really meant to her. I am human, too. Treat me like I am human. Talk to me like I am human. Love me like I am human.

I am human.

I am human.

His sister is worrying about him. He wishes he could allay her concerns like he always does, wishes he could promise that it’s nothing, that he’s fine, but whenever he tries, he can’t. It sticks in his throat, and he’s left to stare at her miserably, helplessly.

“If you need anything…” she murmurs, voice trailing off into nothingness as she pretends like she’s not looking at his halo, which is on the verge of collapse, or at his wings, which are approaching a skeletal state. “Maybe you should stay home today. Someone else can pray.”

“No,” he says. He has to do it. If he doesn’t, then he has nothing left — which is the truth, really, but he can’t accept it. Not yet. “No, I—”

He wants to say I can do it, but the words won’t come. She waits, but when he does not finish his sentence, she only sighs and nods.

“If you think that’s what’s best,” she says. If she’s expecting a response, she won’t get one, or at least not one that’ll satisfy them both. He can’t maintain his facade anymore. Those carefully constructed falsehoods which were once his birthright have abandoned him; now, he is left with nothing but the truth in its harshest form, his eyes sewn open to it and his wings tied back so he can no longer cower behind their trembling defense.

Unlike his sister, Sunday never pretended to love you. Indeed, he treated you no differently than he treated everyone else, keeping a polite, reserved distance between the two of you at all times. He was kind when you spoke, though he tended to avoid such occasions, and he took great pains to ensure that he appeared as harmless as possible, pulling his wings close to his body, averting his eyes from yours and shifting so that his halo was always partially obscured.

Robin told you that he was a proud man, so the fact that he shied away before you meant something. I’ve never seen him like this, she would ponder when he would sidle past, his feathers blending in with his pale hair, a coat thrown over his shoulders and his gaze trained directly ahead even when he greeted you. It’s unlike him.

It’s kind. That was all you ever said when she prodded at you for answers. He’s being kind to me.

Unlike her brother, Robin didn’t understand what that meant, so she would only embrace you, deceptively strong despite her frail figure, wings extending to skim along your skin in what she must’ve considered a sign of affection.

I’m glad you’re getting along, she’d say, and then you’d wonder, invariably, what it’d take to break the chords of her speech. Was she capable of producing dissonance? Or was it one of her many blessings, that avoidance of discord, of cacophony? I’m really glad. I hope one day he loves you, too.

She never asked you to love him back. She never dared to even hope for it.

“I can’t recall you ever laughing at me this much when you were alive,” he says, lying on his bed with his limbs splayed out. He’s looking up at the ceiling, which is bare, as are the walls, and the furniture — entirely by design, of course. Periodically, his wings will flap weakly, wracked with nervous tremors as he waits for her to quiet.

He doesn’t reprimand her anymore. The prospect of chasing her away is unbearable, even more unbearable than the sound of her mirth, which is as wrong to his ears as music from an untuned piano. So he ignores it, and when it is particularly agonizing, he speaks to the empty air, saying everything and nothing all at once in an attempt to silence her.

“You would ask me questions,” he remembers, drumming his fingers against the mattress. “But you wouldn’t laugh. I don’t think you found me amusing, unless I tried very hard to appear that way. I was better at it back then. At becoming what people expected of me.”

She’s not laughing anymore, but he knows she hasn’t vanished yet. She’s there in his periphery, poised to disappear as soon as he turns his head but there nonetheless. Taking advantage of the rare silence, he sits up, hugging his knees to his chest and closing his eyes.

“I didn’t pretend quite as much when it was you,” he says. “You know that, right? By the end, I couldn’t bring myself to at all.”

Does she believe him? He can’t tell. If he were her, he wouldn’t believe himself, so likely not. Exhaling heavily, he collapses backwards, tangling himself into a pile of blankets that he pulls over his shoulders.

“I should have lied to you more often,” he says, eyes drifting shut. “Maybe things would be different if I had.”

 On Halovians:

Halovians are the only Level 0 Intelligent Species that do not choose long-term mates, although there is evidence to suggest that in the distant past, they remained with the same partner for life. According to legend, this is because they gave up fidelity for falsehood, trading their ability to love eternally for their freedom to lie at will.

Research disagrees with this old story, and many alternate theories have been proposed. The most common and widely-accepted is the claim that the Halovians once faced extinction and thus had to procreate at speed, leading to a permanent shift in their mating habits. The most substantial proof for this, of course, is the otherwise-inexplicable population boom…

You couldn’t say for certain when you began visiting Sunday in his room. It had happened so suddenly and yet so gradually that by the time you realized what you were doing, it was too late for you to stop. He never did anything untoward — you doubted he was capable of it — staying at his desk and scowling at his work while you wandered about, familiarizing yourself with the confines of the space.

“Why don’t you decorate?” you asked him one day.

“Decorations are only needless distractions,” he responded promptly, signing a paper with a flourish that, somehow, represented his name. Sunday Oak. You didn’t know how something so enormous and grand could be summed into two squiggles and a cross, but he seemed confident of it, so who were you to question the method? “I cannot fathom sleeping with such clutter surrounding me.”

“I see,” you said, and that was the end of it.

Your conversations with him typically went as such, endless games of question-and-answer, where you would ask whatever was on your mind and he would respond as truthfully as he was able. You often wondered when he would grow tired of it, of you, but he never did. You asked Robin why it was so, and she only shrugged enigmatically.

“Maybe he’s glad to be the one speaking for once,” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“You ought to ask him,” she said. “He might not tell anyone else, but if it’s you…if it’s you, then he’ll definitely answer.”

His sister’s hands are frigid on his shoulders. She’s warm by anyone else’s standards, but for a Halovian, she’s always been cold. Even when she was born, half the size she should’ve been and with eyes as boundless as the sky, she was freezing, a shivering slip of a baby shoved into his arms by his bleeding mother.

“Your halo is breaking,” she says to him, but she’s angry, her melodic voice wavering as her fingers dig into his muscle, shaking him back and forth. “It’s breaking. Why is it breaking?”

She’s glaring at him, tears welling at her lash-line. He wants to reach out his hand and wipe them away, but more will replace them in an instant, so what is the point? She shakes him again, harder and harder, and he allows her, because he’ll always allow her impulses, and because he’s never seen her like this before.

“Why?” she says. “Why is it breaking? Tell me what you did, brother, tell me what you did!”

She isn’t asking because she wants him to give her the answer. She’s asking because she wants him to deny it, to tell her that she’s wrong, that the conclusion she’s arrived at is incorrect somehow. Once, he could’ve. He could’ve made up some story about tragedy and misfortune, and she would’ve believed him, as she always did.

That was their relationship. He lied and she believed him. She asked and he obliged her. But now that he can not lie and she has nothing to ask for, what is left?  

“You know already,” he says. She gasps in the manner of an injured animal, berry-stained lips parting, indubitably to hurl accusations at him.

He doesn’t think he can handle hearing them, not from his sister of all people, so he leaves before he gets the chance.

“Does it feel strange when people touch your wings?” you said. Sunday was in his bed today, afflicted by some illness of the lungs, and you were rummaging through his bookshelf, pulling out volumes at random before putting them back where you had found them. 

“Huh? Why do you ask?” he said, raising a porcelain cup to his lips. It was prescription, a medicine reeking of menthol but wearing the guise of peppermint tea — the only way, according to Robin, that he would drink it. A servant had brought it and presented it to him with a bow, walking out of the room with a look thrown at you over their shoulder, concern and envy blending into something razor-thin and cutting.

“I don’t have any,” you explained, taking out a book and tracing your fingers along the gold lettering of the title. “I can’t fathom what it’d be like.”

“Come here,” he said, and although it was mildly done, you obeyed immediately. You could never forget what he was, not completely, no matter how hard he tried to make it so that you did. You would always be human and he would always be Halovian; this fundamental disconnect was insurmountable, and anyways, you had no interest in surmounting it. It’d serve you well to remember these many little differences between yourself and the Oak siblings, between yourself and Sunday in particular. 

He extended his hand, the palm facing up, and dipped his chin towards it. You tilted your head in confusion, for the act was all but inexplicable, and at this he smiled. He did not smile very frequently, and it transformed his face when he did, lighting it up, turning it into something close to human — not quite, but close. Closer than he ever was otherwise.

“Here,” he said, setting aside his teacup and using his other hand to place yours against his, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and then waiting. “Does that feel strange?”

“No,” you said. 

“It’s the same for me,” he said. “To you, my wings are bizarre and outlandish, but to me and those of my kind, they are simply another body part. No more or less fantastical than an arm or an ankle.”

“Ah,” you said. He settled back against the cushions of his bed, allowing the wings by his ears to stretch out comfortably, closing his eyes and letting out an exhale that shook with the remnants of a cough.

“You want to touch them,” he said. He phrased it as a statement, not a question, and when you paused before answering, his smile grew imperceptibly larger. “I don’t mind it.”

“You don’t?” you said. He shrugged.

“It’s only fair,” he said, pressing down on the point where your veins nearly surfaced, tapping in time with your pulse before drawing his hands back and clasping them together in the cavity below his ribcage. “I wouldn’t have told you you could if I’d hold any resentment for it.”

“Aren’t Halovians known for lying?” you said. He snorted.

“Have you been doing your research?” he said.

“It’s common knowledge,” you said.

“We are,” he said. “But I swear I will always tell you the truth.”

“How can I believe that? What if that’s just another one of your lies?” you said. He cracked one eye open so that he could peek at you, and whatever he saw must’ve proven your seriousness, for he hummed in thought, carefully considering your words.

“I suppose you can’t,” he said. “It’s your prerogative. Do as you’d like, then.”

He closed his eyes again, which you supposed was his version of an invitation. Waiting until his breathing stilled and he was caught in some form of repose — whether he was truly unconscious or not escaped you, but either way he was certainly in some altered state of mind — you extended your arm and brushed your index finger against his feathers.

They were as soft as you had anticipated, cottony and shapeless compared to the firm flight-feathers of the pitch-dark wings jutting out at his sides. The bones were hollow and slight, as if you could break them only by taking them into your fist and squeezing. This was such a contradiction to the appearance he so carefully maintained that your heart softened to him despite your greatest efforts to guard it.

“Those ones are mostly down,” he said, startling you out of your daze. You had assumed he was asleep and had allowed your movements to become casual and complacent. Jerking your hand back as if he had burnt it — which he just as well might have, given the temperature of his body — you held it to your chest and took an involuntary step back while he adjusted himself in his nest of bedding. “In antiquity, back when we still ruled the skies and rarely touched the ground, it was considered a sign of friendship for Halovians to groom one another’s upper-wing feathers.”

“And now?” you said.

“And now it means nothing,” he said. “Fetch me a new cup of tea if you have the time. This one has grown cold, and I am yet unwell.”

The feathers he used to be so proud of are fraying at the edges. He hasn’t cared for them in so long, hasn’t carefully misted them or doused them in diluted soap in ages, and now they have come to this. Scraggly and broken and bent and wrong.

Sticking a finger in his mouth, he rubs it along his teeth and the bitten flesh of his inner cheeks. Decay. This is decay. He’s seen it so many other times, in so many other forms, but never did he think he’d experience it himself. And least of all so quickly! Yet it has come for him, as it comes for everyone in the end.

He finds it’s different this time. It’s different when he’s the one who’s dying.

“They say it haunts us,” Sunday said. His arm was heavy over your waist, his blankets pulled up over your chin and tucked tightly around your shoulders. Your forehead was flush with his collarbones, your eyes fluttering shut as he played with the hem of your shirt while he spoke. “The first time we kill something. It haunts us to death.”

“Is that why you’re vegetarian?” you joked.

“Yes,” he said, and although he sounded grave, you could tell he was joking, too. “Can you imagine being followed around by the ghost of a chicken and then dying while it watches?”

“A horrible way to go,” you said, laughing at the image of Sunday plugging his ears and running from the shadow of a bird as it chased him, his own wings flapping furiously as it squawked at him with no small amount of indignation. 

“Indeed,” he said with a laugh of his own. Then, after a pause, he hummed thoughtfully. “You should laugh more often.”

“I’ve been told my laugh is grating,” you said.

“It’s not,” he said. “Not at all.”

“Then I shall endeavor to do as you ask,” you said. “I will laugh until you tell me to stop.”

“I’ll never tell you to stop,” he promised, and you should’ve known better than to trust him, because he was a Halovian and donning that impenetrable mask of his was a part of his nature, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You did, you trusted him more than anything or anyone, and didn’t that make you a fool? A happy, laughing one, maybe — but a fool nonetheless. 

He is close to collapse when he drags himself to his bathroom. Leaning over the counter of his sink, he grips the marble edge, noticing in fascination that his knuckles are almost as white as the stone. He almost can’t endure the thought of looking in the mirror, but in a last burst of inspiration, he drags his gaze up to his haggard reflection.

His heart skips a beat when he realizes he’s not alone. Standing there, beside and behind him, is her. The ghost. His ghost.

Her face is placid — she’s not laughing, and neither is she frowning. He doesn’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but he can’t change it, so who is he to complain? He waits for her to speak, but she is silent, and he considers calling out for his sister before deciding that this time, this once and never again, he will be selfish.

“It’s you,” he says, reaching out and placing his fingers against the mirror, where the image of her cheek is distorted by imperfections in the silver.

The metal is cold under the involuntary curve of his palm, which tries to follow the contours of her face but finds it to be impossible in the second dimension. Then again, to him, she was always cold, so there’s no difference, except that she is flat where once she was whole, empty where once she was everything.

“I killed you,” he says. It’s the first time he’s spoken it aloud, the first time he’s spit out the words that he’s been dancing around ever since she appeared to him, almost a year ago exactly. Somehow, it feels like a dagger driven into his heart and a weight lifted off of his shoulders simultaneously. If he had the strength, he’d run down the hallways of the mansion and scream it at everyone.

I killed her. I killed her and now I am dying for it. You bowed your heads in reverence to me, and all along I have had this blood on my hands. I killed her! How does it feel to have followed a sinner for so long? How does it feel to know that I am forsaken, and that one day, if you are so lucky, you will be, too?

Sunday’s mouth on yours was hot like a furnace, clumsy and demanding, with a lingering aftertaste like menthol. At first, it alarmed you, the overwhelming sensation, the much of it all, but before you could even pull away, something in the back of your mind twisted, and then you were grasping for anything you could. His hair, his wings, his shirt, it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, you only needed to hold onto him in some way. You could not breathe without him. You could not live without him.

That was your first indication that something was very, very wrong.

On Halovians:

Much like their presumed cousins, the sirens of Lucyke, Halovians are irresistible to their prey. Unlike the sirens, the Halovians no longer hunt; some assume that this must be one of the religious laws they abide by, while others argue that it is mere ecological responsibility.

Simply put, the Halovians were too efficient as hunters. Several lesser species have been driven to extinction by their efforts, and it is only due to the reduction in Halovian numbers, their vows of vegetarianism, and concentrated conservation efforts that the food webs on the Halovians’ native planets have stabilized in recent years.

“Sunday,” you said to him one day, when the sun had not yet risen in the sky. “I think that I will die soon.”

His mouth moved, but no sound came out. No, it seemed he was trying to say. You won’t. His lips formed the words, but they wouldn’t take shape in his throat, wouldn’t bloom into existence, and you watched as he struggled for a while before pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead.

“Yes,” he said.

“It will be your fault when I do,” you said. You weren’t accusing him; you said it simply and plainly. You were dying. It was his fault. He was the curse and the cure, if a mere prolonging of the inevitable could be considered as curing it.

He was quiet for so long that you assumed he had forgotten about the question entirely. You did not begrudge him for it — how would he answer, anyways? There was nothing that he could say which would change it. There was nothing that he could say which would reverse what he had, knowingly or unknowingly, done.

“Yes,” he said when you were halfway to dozing off.

“What?” you mumbled, the contents of the conversation already escaping you.

“Yes,” he said. “It will be my fault.”

The ghost doesn’t say anything, watching him as he turns on the sink and splashes the water onto his face in a futile effort to cool himself off. He’s feverish as he pushes himself back into a semblance of good posture, pacing back and forth along the length of the bathroom. He can only see her in the mirror, and he wonders if he somehow trapped her there or if that’s her way of teasing him; she must find him so absurd, storming away from her visage before crawling back to it like he is starved.

“I didn’t know,” he says. “You must understand that. I didn’t know! Not at first, anyways. I would’ve sent you away. If I had known, I would’ve sent you away…”

He can hear her feet against the tile, copying his own path, but he dares not turn around. What will he see if he does? What emotions will reflect in her eyes? The first time he saw her, it was fear, unadulterated and pure and choking him with its overwhelming intensity. Then, over time, it warmed into something resembling indifference, which in turn became fondness and then, finally, a sick sort of dependence, the former liveliness and curiosity glazed over with vacancy and fixation.

“I did this to you,” he admits. He’s read that accursed book on Halovians and their accursed vestigial organs and accursed archaic hunting methods so many times that he knows this for a fact. He killed her. “But I didn’t — it wasn’t my intention, please, it wasn’t, you must know that. Did you die knowing that?”

When he halts, she halts. When he takes a step forward, she does the same. It’s maddening. He doesn’t want her to echo him. Her steps sound like a prophecy, the drumbeat to a seer’s chant, and they clang in his head, the antithesis to everything he holds precious. Order. Harmony. And then there she is, discord, cacophony, waiting for him at every turn, inescapable and unavoidable.

“It’s the truth!” he snaps. The argument is entirely one-sided; the ghost never speaks to him, after all. She only laughs and sighs in turn, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot convince her to say anything. “I can’t lie anymore. Although, that’s irrelevant; when it comes to you, I haven’t been able to lie in a long time.”

Ena, the Order; Xipe, the Harmony; defend me in this tribulation. Curse this evil, bind its spirit and banish it to whence it came.

I swear on truth. I swear on the calendar. I swear on words. I swear on values. I swear on rules. I swear on meaning. I swear on human dignity.

He’s murmuring every prayer he can think of. They play in an endless loop, springing to his lips at random, more like nonsensical jumbles of words than anything coherent. A prayer for salvation. A prayer for forgiveness. A prayer for protection. A prayer for order. A prayer for harmony. A prayer to banish her. A prayer to bring her back. 

A prayer to bring her back. A prayer to bring her back. Bring her back. Bring her back. Bring her back.

“I won’t come back, you know,” she says. That’s the first time he’s heard her voice in so long, and he’s startled to find that it’s almost foreign, like he’s already begun to forget her, like she’s turned into something entirely beyond his understanding.

“Why not?” he says, his voice cracking as he scrambles for purchase against the wall. “I’ll do anything they ask. Anything you ask.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or who you beg,” she says with a snicker. “You can’t bring someone back once you’ve killed them. You should’ve regretted it earlier; it’s meaningless now. Well, anyways, I have a question for you.”

He swallows but nods, his back to her, vision blurring out of focus as he squints at the plain wall in front of him.

“If you could meet me again, would you?” she says.

“Yes,” he says without thinking, because of course he would. How could he not?

“Knowing that it would kill me?” she adds, giggling. 

Is this what it’s like for those who he interrogates? Now he is the one who cannot hide behind the comfort of fabrication, who must strip himself bare to an unsympathetic audience. He hates it, in truth. He hates it more than anything, but — but he doesn’t hate her, so clenching his jaw, he nods once more.

“Yes,” he says.

“Oh, my,” she says. “How romantic. Careful, or I’ll think you really do love me.”

He whirls around. “I do—!”

There’s nobody there. He wonders if there ever was.

[huffelpuff210]

Bucky Barnes x shifter reader

Summary: He knew you since you were a kid in HYDRA, people are cautious around you except for him.

You sighed as you walked down the hallway people would make a path as you walked people feared you, it has been six months since you were rescued from hydra and taken in by the avengers,

You still couldn’t decide if you just went from one prison to another sure there were no experiments, torture or mind wiping. But people were still wary of you, you were a animal shape shifter, your eyes showed it, one yellow like a wolf eye while the other was a jade green, it always freaked people out, you were only six years old when your so called family sold you to hydra, now thirteen years later you were a shell, barely cracked a smile, you barely talked, you never voiced your opinion, people didn’t like the way you talked your voice always harsher than what you were attempting to sound like,

Hydra trained you not to speak unless you were being spoken to. Even most of the avengers were not so sure about you….. except for one, Bucky Barnes you don’t know why he wasn’t afraid, but he wasn’t,

It was late you were in the main living area looking out the window watching the snow fall, you were contemplating leaving for good this life wasn’t meant for you, people were so afraid of you, you were a ticking time bomb in everyone’s opinion, truthfully that wasn’t too far from the truth, you were constantly at war with the animals,

“Beautiful huh..” you look to your right to see Bucky you look out the window again, you simply nodded, sure you’ve spoken a few times to him and he didn’t take your tone personally, but still you hardly attempt to talk,

He claims he knew you at hydra but you couldn’t recall those memories,

You had so many missing fragments of your life you are lucky to even remember your name,

“you can talk to me,” he says

He says it every time you have no idea why he wants you to talk,

<3 <3 <3

Bucky was always watching you, sure it seemed like you were heartless and you didn’t like anyone but he knew better he knew you better than you knew yourself, he knew of the constant struggle and war with yourself, it didn’t help that everyone was always so cautious around you, like you were going to snap at the drop of a pin, it didn’t help that everyone avoided you like the plague, and it certainly didn’t help that everyone was afraid of you,

he knew the real reasoning behind why you wouldn’t speak and it down right pissed him off, he knew you for a very long time ever since you were brought in by hydra, he was in charge of you.

“I hate how you are being treated,” he finally said

You look at him confused

“You are not the monster people think you are.” He says

“At least one of us thinks that.” Your tone coming out harsh

It doesn’t bother him he smiles,

“I know you doll that is not the real you.” He says

“What’s the real me?” You asked

“Your kind, you don’t like hurting people.” He says

You don’t say anything,

You hear a door open down the hall and decide it was best for you to leave before anyone sees you,

Bucky watches as you leave, Steve enters the room, Steve is another one who doesn’t judge you, but you didn’t know that,you quickly leave taking the elevator to the bottom floor,

Steve sees Bucky walking towards him,

“You okay?” He asked

“I’m not the one you should be asking that,” Bucky responded watching as you leave the tower shifting into a cat and running off,

“Y/n?” Steve asked Bucky nodded

Little did anyone know that would be the last time they would see you for a while.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Hitch, 2005

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 8.2k

Notes: It’s…. Not going great right now😂😂 things are actually hilariously bad and they’re going to get so much more worse before they’re better. I apologize to my friends and people who read my work because I haven’t been talking to anyone or putting anything out and like it all around just kinda ✨sucks✨ so I’m sorry, anyway I hope you guys like this one!

Eddie fixes his tie in the mirror, a freaking tie. He isn’t sure why he agreed to this, actually when Buck legitimately got on his knees and begged him to do this double date with him and Tommy he didn’t really have a choice. 

It was Valentine’s Day and Tommy had gotten them a reservation at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, he’d pulled some strings, called in a couple of favors, and got him and Buck a rooftop terrace gardeny type shit exclusive table! 

And then his little sister popped in for a visit. 

No matter how hard she begged to stay home, Tommy roped her into coming anyway because there was no way he was leaving her alone on Valentine’s Day. As much as Buck wanted a romantic dinner, he wanted to include her more. So Tommy called and asked for a table for four instead, and they agreed to it. 

Which is when Buck came to Eddie’s door, crying and pleading for him to come with them and that he’d pay for absolutely everything. 

And how could he pass up a free meal? 

“Make sure you grab the flowers” Buck comes up next to him, messily tying his tie, and Eddie smirks.

“I will” 

“And remember, she’s shy okay? So try not to be so…. I don’t know, really sexy Mexican guy! Try to be like…conventionally attractive but easy-going” 

Eddie yanks the end of Buck’s tie and he makes a weird hacking noise. 

“Would you just relax? I know you’re worried about being weird in front of Tommy. But he loves you, Buck, he already knows you’re weird” 

“Oh haha you’re so funny” He sticks his tongue out “Besides, It’s…it’s not him I’m worried about” 

“So what is it?” Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror and Buck grabs the comb right out of his hands and starts fixing the sides of his hair 

“That’s his sister. And not just any sister, his little sister! Her opinion means a lot to him. Her opinion is the law! What if she doesn’t like me? What if that’s why she didn’t want to come?? What if she already hates me?” 

He stares into the mirror, spiraling and thinking about all the things that could go wrong and Eddie shakes his head, leaning against the vanity and smiling. 

“You know none of that’s gonna happen right?” 

“Even the part where there’s an elephant stampede because I tripped over the gate and he gets trampled to death and she blames me and I go to jail for involuntary manslaughter???” 

Eddie has to take a slow, deep breath. He lets his head tilt back and he quietly counts to five before turning back to him and putting his hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Especially, that part Buck.” 

The doorbell rings a half hour later and Buck lets out a weird gurgling noise and jumps off the couch. 

“I’m not ready!! " he calls out while running back to the bedroom, and Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes off the couch.

“You are ready so get your shit together so we aren’t late!” 

He opens the door, expecting to see Tommy there but he’s a little surprised when he has to look down.

Well, fuck. 

Tommy is coming up the walkway with two stupid-sized bouquets and you’re standing at the door, your hands laced behind your back. But that’s not what gets his attention, no it’s you. 

He can tell those shoes are new from the way they shine, like gorgeous red rubies. They wrap around your ankles and have precious little bows on the backs of them. His eyes trail over your full figure and the way the little black dress hugs your body, he can feel a pull in the pit of his stomach at the way the square neck pushes your breasts together and he likes the way the bow in your hair matches the bow on your shoes. 

“Hi,” He says, and…he knows he’s been caught staring by the way a pretty blush appears on your cheeks you look away from him and he doesn’t even bother hiding the blush on his cheeks.

“Hi,” you mumble and he melts at how soft and sweet your voice is. He’s so busy trying to remember his own name that he doesn’t notice Tommy coming up behind you, or the way his jaw sets just a little. 

“Eddie? You gonna let us in??” 

“Oh uh- shit yeah sorry. I - sorry. Anyway, welcome to my home” He steps aside, ushering you both in and you come in, your shoes thudding softly against the hardwood and sending a thrill through his body.

“You have a nice place,” You say, looking at the photos of friends and family he has lining the cabinet in the entryway he smiles and runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“Thanks… I uh- tried to clean up a bit when I heard you two were coming to pick us up”

“Speaking of,” Tommy looks around “Where’s my Evan?” 

You gag a little and Eddie immediately decides he likes you… even if you know he’d already decided that the second he saw you.

“He’s in the spare - sorry he’s in “his” room. He’s kinda nervous” 

“Why would he be nervous?” Tommy’s tone is immediately worried and Eddie gives a little nod toward you. 

“Oh. I’ll be right back” he hands Eddie one of the bouquets and chuckles 

“From us, to you, our Valentine” He winks and kisses his cheek and Eddie gives him a side hug 

“Thanks, man, happy Valentine’s Day, and thank you for dragging me along” 

“It was our pleasure!” 

Tommy heads back to Buck’s room, leaving you two alone and that’s, fun. You stand in the middle of the room awkwardly for a minute, your hands clasped behind your back. 

“So uh-“ he clears his throat, toying with one of the roses “I didn’t know Tommy had a sister. Where are you from?” 

He gestures for you to follow him to the kitchen and you do, he hesitates for a second, deciding to just be forward, and grabs your hips, helping you get up onto the counter next to the sink. You squeak when he lifts you, his fireman’s strength is no joke and he smirks a little before kneeling to look under the cabinet for a vase. You bite your lip when he unbuttons the cuffs and folds them up, he winks and your cheeks light on fire. You clear your throat and look anywhere but him.

“I was born in Minnesota before I was shipped off to my grandmothers and moved here to California. After she died I was put into foster care where Tommy’s family adopted me. He was already 18 when they got me so we weren’t together for very long, but he was the sweetest big brother ever” 

Eddie listens to your story, staring into the glass while it fills with water. That explained the sun-kissed brown skin, the rich honey color he wanted to drag his tongue over and leave pretty bruises behind. 

“Eddie?? I think that’s enough water” 

He blinks a couple of times and comes back to the water overflowing from the vase and spilling over his hands. 

“Shit” He curses quietly and shuts off the tap, he shakes out his hand and pours out a little bit. You hand him the flower food with a little snicker and he sticks his tongue out before pouring it in and grabbing some shears from the drawer next to him. 

“Just keep a pair of clippers on hand huh?” You look at them and he rolls his eyes, pruning the bottoms 

“You wait until May” He nods his head toward the window and you turn to look out “That garden is gonna be sprouting”

“May huh? I’ll make sure to plan a visit down here” 

You help him arrange the roses in a comfortable silence, he gives your thigh little nudges and you poke him back with the toe of your heels. He’s smiling the entire time and every time he looks up so are you. Even your teeth are pretty to him, which, is weird okay it sounds weird but you have pretty teeth. You have naturally pouty lips and a cute button nose… you’re just too much for him and nothing even happened yet. 

“I wonder what’s taking them so long” You work off a thorn and drop the stem in the vase and he scoffs. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to know. I’m gonna have to like, burn those sheets” 

You giggle as he makes a face and gags then grabs a towel to dry his hands with

“What was Buck so nervous about anyway? Tommy said he was pretty outgoing” 

Eddie takes your hands, drying them for you and taking extra care to dry off your rings too 

“He’s actually nervous about meeting you, don’t tell him I told you.” Eddie sets the towel down and places his hands on the counter on either side of your thighs, you lean back a little against the cabinets as you think 

“Why in the world would he be nervous about meeting me?? Im- me!!” You hold your arms out and Eddie smiles, leaning in a little closer and you’ve got nowhere to run. Just the way he likes it. 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know you’re “you” yet. He just wants to impress you… he’s really into Tommy. I’ve never seen him this serious before, not to mention he’s literally never mentioned you before, at least not to me. I for sure would have remembered you” 

You blush a little as you look into those deep brown eyes, you turn your head to look away and pretend to look at the ceiling. 

“You uh- would have remembered me? Why do you say that?” You mumble and look down quickly, playing with the hem of your dress. Eddie hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Oh, I’d remember everything he told me about a gorgeous little thing like you” You feel his hand on your thigh, he just lightly places it there and your heart skips a beat. His eyes trail shamelessly over the glittery body oil you’d accentuated your look with and he wonders slightly if you taste as good as you look. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” 

Is he laying it on thick? Oh yeah definitely. But it’s Valentine’s Day and he’s got a pretty girl on his counter, who’s shy and quiet and it’s making his confidence shoot through the roof. Every giggle, every blush, every word he pulls from you is a win in his book. 

“Hmm no I don’t think you have” you mutter coyly and it takes everything in him not to just kiss you. He can just feel Tommy throwing him into the nearest body of water already. 

“You are positively,” He kisses your hand 

“Wonderfully” He kisses your nose 

“Stunningly” He kisses your forehead 

“Beautiful” 

His eyes flit down to your lips and he’s sure you can hear his heart slamming in his chest. The rhythm matches yours when your eyes find his lips as well. He’s smirking when you look into his eyes again and you lean forward just the littlest bit, giving him all the permission he needs.

Your eyes flutter closed as his lips hover mere inches from yours, you can feel the warmth of his breath splashing over your cheeks and you’re ready, you’re seriously going to kiss this God of a man you’ve only known for about 45 minutes and absolutely nothing in your body is telling you to stop.

Beat that Disney.

“Hey guys we’re ready to-“

“Jeez- Evan what-“ 

Buck stops hard when walking into the kitchen and Tommy smacks into him. He whirls around fast and pushes against his chest. 

“Sorry I realized I wasn’t done” 

He wraps his arms around his neck and you and Eddie can hear the sound of Buck giving him the nastiest kiss. Eddie helps you down from the counter and you slap your hands over your ears. 

“MY BRAINNNN” you scream dramatically and melt into Eddie’s chest and he holds you against him, hoping you can’t feel the way he appreciates your tits pressed into his chest 

“THE HORROR” He wails with you and you both hear Tommy laugh. He comes around the corner with Buck in tow, who’s blushing like a madman while giving Eddie an extremely pointed look.

Because he wants his friend to get it but can he please not get it when he has to meet his boyfriend’s sister for the first time? 

Tommy leads him over to you and Eddie where apparently you’ve found yourself very comfortably sticking to, your arms are around his waist and he’s got his arms on your shoulders now.

“Am I interrupting something?” He blinks plainly, his face a completely blank slate and you pull away from Eddie, swallowing thickly and giving him a little smile

“We were just consoling each other over the loss of our sanity” 

“Uh-huh”

The playful smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and Eddie knows he’s semi fucked. But he looks at you and the way that dress clings to your hips… and he doesn’t care if he’s royally fucked as long as it’s a chance with you. 

“Anyway, there’s someone I want you to meet. Y/N, this is my boyfriend, Evan.” 

Buck comes around and holds out his hand and you let go of Eddie, reaching for it.

“It’s just Buck, but it’s really nice to meet you” he shakes your hand vigorously and Tommy wraps his arms around his waist, grabbing his wrist calmly. 

“She wants to keep her arm babe” 

You giggle as he releases your hand, with a light blush on his cheeks “Sorry I- I’m just kinda nervous I guess” 

“You don’t need to be” Your smile seems to calm him down a bit and Tommy feels him finally start to relax “I’ve been really excited about meeting you, my brothers told me so much about you!” 

“Hopefully all good things” Buck’s voice cracks a little and Eddie snorts, earning a glare from him 

“Of course! I think all the jobs you’ve had are really cool” You smile up at him and Eddie knows that’s the exact moment Buck falls in love with you, he smiles back at you, and kind of bends down to your height a little 

“Why thank you, I’ve learned a lot over the years. Shall we?” He holds his arm out and you take it, giggling as he leads you out the kitchen and Tommy looks over at Eddie 

“Did she just steal my date???” 

“I’m pretty sure she just stole your entire evening” 

Much to everyone’s dismay, it turns out that you and Buck get along really freaking well. He decides to sit in the backseat with you and you’re literally whispering in each other’s ear the entire way to the restaurant. You’re both snickering and trying to hold back full laughs, and every time Tommy catches Buck’s eye in the mirror he snorts and you both have to try and keep it in.

He’s immediately regretting introducing you two. 

Eddie watches you in the mirror occasionally and he knows that it’s stupid, and it doesn’t make sense and you literally almost kissed. But he’s jealous of the way you lean into Buck’s side when he tells you something stupid, he’s jealous of the way you fall all over him every time you can’t help but burst laughing and he’s jealous of the completely innocent way that Buck’s hand occasionally brushes your bare thighs. 

Tommy pulls up to the valet and gets out, he opens the door for Buck with a little glare and Buck just snorts, he puts his hand on his hip, pulls him a little closer, and kisses him and Tommy’s grumpy attitude vanishes. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day” He whispers. 

Eddie opens your door for you and you hop out, brushing the front of your dress out a little, you take a step to the side and he puts his arm around your waist and shuts the door.

“You two have a good laugh?” 

“Sure did! We started a secret club, we’re gonna make a handshake for it later” 

“Of course you did” 

Once inside, the four of you are led up to the roof and your mouth drops open as soon as the elevator doors open. This place is set up like it’s straight out of a movie, from the fairy lights strung up around the perimeter to the rose petals creating a walkway to a table set with candles, a bottle of champagne on ice, and probably the fanciest napkins you’ve ever seen in your life.

The live music is a punch to the gut, the violins really bring on the waterworks. This is beautiful, this is trying to deeply impress someone level, and as you look up at Buck, watching him pull Tommy in for a shy kiss with little tears pricking in the corner of his eyes… you turn to Eddie, who’s already whispering to the man who’d brought you upstairs and you know he’s thinking the exact same thing.

Tommy and Buck are in their own world for a minute and Eddie tugs on your elbow to pull you to the side. 

“So there’s a cancellation and a table open downstairs” 

“Oh thank god”

“I know right?! Do you see how romantic this is?!” 

“Yes!!” you gesture wildly “How could he think it was okay to bring us?!” 

“What was he thinking?!” 

“What’s going on you two?” Tommy turns to look at you and Eddie, who is currently slowly backing up toward the elevator and leaving you to break it to him 

“Eddie and I got a table downstairs” You glare back at Eddie and he winks 

“You guys what? No, it’s okay, Buck, and I want you here” 

Eddie now grabs your waist and slowly backs you up with him. You place your hands over his and shake your head 

“I love you so much Tommy and it was so sweet of you guys to invite us along… but this is for you okay? This needs to be about you two. You and Buck are gonna have an amazing time” 

“I-if you’re sure?” He runs a hand uneasily through his hair and behind him, Buck clasps his hands together pleading with the two of you to get lost

“Oh we’re so sure” Eddie laughs and pulls you into the elevator with him “You two have fun!” 

Buck wraps his arms around Tommy’s waist and pulls him into his chest 

��We will!! Hey uh, Eddie? You want me to send you money for an Uber?” 

“Yea, don’t worry Tommy I’ll take care of y/n tonight!” 

“Wait I’m not so su-“

The doors close and you slump against Eddie who slumps against the wall 

“…So that would have been so weird” 

“Kyle” hits the ground floor button and you throw your hands in the air 

“That’s what we’re saying!!!”

It turns out Eddie is wonderful company, he’s got you laughing and you’ve got him snorting into his champagne glass and trying not to laugh like an idiot and disturb everyone around you. 

The table you’d gotten is tucked into a corner next to the window, you can see the busy L. A street as they start to calm down, it’s a cozy little table, and incredibly romantic. Eddie moved your chair right next to his when he pulled it out for you and you blushed at the intimate proximity he’d created. As if going to a romantic dinner on Valentine’s Day could have been any more intimate than it already was. 

“Oh my god” Eddie is trying not to choke on champagne and you’re sinking into your chair with your hands over your face, trying to stifle the giggles. You’d told the most embarrassing Tommy story you knew. The time he’d gotten locked out of the locker room at work and had to run to find the chief in just a towel. His coworkers had sent you a ton of pictures that Eddie now owned as well. 

You’re both wiping tears from your eyes when you finally sit up and clear your throat, Eddie holds his sides, still giggling and you reach for the nearly empty bottle of champagne and refill your glasses. You put his up to his lip and he takes a small sip before taking it from you.

“Good girl” He winks and you feel your cheeks turn pink, you’re hoping he doesn’t notice it, maybe just thinks it’s the champagne. But you can see the twinkle in his eye when he notices you squeeze your thighs together just slightly and he slowly sets your drink down. 

“So, we’ve made fun of Tommy. We’ve made fun of Buck… I don’t know how I got mixed in, but I did. But you know what?” He runs the tip of his finger along the rim of his glass 

“We haven’t really talked much about you” 

“Me? What about me?” You feel a little uneasy and he reaches under the table, placing a hand over yours 

“Oh! I just wanted to get to know you, you know? It’s nice to make new friends. I’ve always made them easily, it’s just keeping them I sometimes have problems with”

“Oh?” You tilt your head and he laces your fingers together and puts his arm over the back of your chair 

“Sometimes I get in my own head you know? I don’t let people in… and that’s kind of left me alone more often than not” 

Your heart breaks for him and you smile softly 

“Whaddaya wanna know?” 

“How about we start easy?” He smiles back “You have any pets?” 

That gets your attention and you perk up, turning toward him 

“I’m so glad you asked that” 

You pull out your phone and excitedly show him pictures of your rabbit, Saturn. He fawns all over her immediately, the sweet little brown bunny seems to be the star of your life and he absolutely eats it up. 

You show him video after video and he makes you send him pictures of her and nearly convinces you to take him to Tommy’s house when he finds out that she’s there right now.

“Bro” you shake your head as he stares into her little black eyes “There’s no way in hell we’re going back to Tommy’s tonight” 

“But- bunny” He holds your phone up with a little pout and you coo at his sweet face and lean over to kiss his nose.

“Aww Pobrecito” You squish his face and he leans into your palms “Tomorrow! I promise”

You’re not sure when the conversation turned kind of naughty, but you can’t help but cackle at all his stupid dirty jokes. Maybe it was when you were telling him about the size of the cucumber you’d grown… or maybe it was when you said you would deep-throat a whole-ass mango if you could because they were your favorite.

Either way, Eddie is whispering dirty things into your ear and whilst they may be funny… they’re beginning to start a fire in your belly. 

“I’m so serious, I found out in the worst way possible that Buck is packin’ okay?” He gags a little and you nod along deliriously, trying not to snort 

“What about you huh?” You say playfully, nudging his shoulder and he stops a little, looking into your hazy eyes, and smirks 

“Wouldn’t you like to know” 

“We’re friends, right? Friends share dick sizes Eddie they just do” 

“You know… you’re not the first person to say that to me” 

You turn and laugh into his shoulder and he laughs with you, holding you closer and running his fingers down your arm 

“Hey! That tick-“

Your breath gets caught in your throat when he places your hand over his cock, you look up at him and he strokes your palm against it. You gasp as it hardens underneath your fingertips and you swallow thickly feeling just how large he is

“Any other questions baby girl?” 

You shake your head fast and he smirks, before leaning down and placing a kiss on your neck.

“Well, I have one or two. Can I ask ‘em?”

You nod and he lets go of your hand, grinning when you leave it on his cock, and slides his hand up your torso and over your chest. 

“Do you like wearing necklaces?” You feel his fingers splay across your throat before wrapping around it squeezing lightly. He likes the little cross-eyed expression on your face when you gasp out for air. 

“Well?” He squeezes a little to get your attention and you come back to him 

“Uh-huh” 

“Oh good, so do I! I have this very nice gold chain my tia gave me when I was maybe 15” 

You’re hardly listening to him, you’re really more focused on the hand around your throat and the way he squeezes lightly, just enough to make you dizzy and send the champagne buzzing happily down between your legs.

“You ready to get out of here?” He asks you quietly and all you can do is stare at him. He chuckles lightly and lets go of you, but keeps the hand on your neck.

“Hey, sugar? You in there?” 

You blush and nod at him, something that was apparently the only freaking thing you could do this entire night and he smiles. 

“Alright cool, I’ll order our Uber” 

A half-hour later, you and Eddie stumble your way out to the Uber, he keeps his arm around your waist tightly and you wrap your arm around his neck. 

He’d done what he’d seemed to be doing all night and did another 180, acting like the last half hour of your conversation hadn’t even happened, now he was back to telling his corny dad jokes. 

He had a stupid amount of fire jokes. 

He opens the door for you and you fall in, taking him with you. You both erupt in giggles and he helps you up and swings your legs into the car. He flops into the car and you pull him in awkwardly climb over him and shut the door. 

“Are you both in?” Your driver, Milo chuckles and you give him a little thumbs up over the back of the seat 

“We’re in!!” 

“Is it too much to ask you to buckle up?” 

You look at Eddie in a heap underneath you and at the seatbelts

“Uhhhh I think we can try. We can try right?” 

“We can try” Eddie agrees and you get off of him and sit awkwardly in your seat. Eddie gets on his hands and knees and reaches for your belt, he pulls it way too far out and tries to click it in. He spends a good 30 seconds just trying to get it in the buckle and by then you’re losing it. 

“Shut up! Shut- up!! Im close” 

“That’s what she said” you cackle and he smacks your thigh. You hear Milo upfront snicker and you squeal. 

“See!! He thinks I’m funny!!!” 

“Oh yeah you’re just a barrel of laughs” Eddie pulls away and his face is so close to yours, that you can feel his breath fan across your face, and smell the peach champagne on his lips. His eyes flit down to yours and you’re right back in the same position from earlier. 

Only no annoying brother is going to interrupt you… 

You scoot forward and he easily clips himself into the middle seat

“We’re ready,” he says distractedly and the car starts moving. He moves your legs into his lap and you slowly wrap your arms around his neck 

“This is cozy,” You say quietly and he runs his hand over your thigh, squeezing lightly 

“Very cozy” 

“Can we…can we do something” You whisper and he smirks, running his hand under your dress and higher up your thighs 

“You into voyeurism sweet girl?… didn’t really peg you as the type” 

You punch him in the chest and he leans his head down and laughs into your shoulder 

“That’s not what I meant!!! I just…I wanted to make out” you mumble as your cheeks turn pink and Eddie pulls away to look at you again

“Sorry, honey I don’t think I quite heard that, you wanna run it by me again?”

Your cheeks burn right through to the freaking bone and you roll your eyes 

“I said… do you want to make out” You say it a little louder and he grins wickedly 

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask”

He closes the distance between you, finally capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It's not gentle or sweet like you’d been expecting- no, this kiss is hungry and demanding, full of all the pent-up desire he's been feeling since he first laid eyes on you since Tommy had interrupted what was gonna be your first kiss.

He kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to like you’re the air he needs to breathe. His tongue laps at your mouth, exploring every inch of you, wanting to claim you as his own. He nips at your bottom lip, soothing the sting with his tongue before kissing you again.

You try to keep up with him, with his roaming hands and absolutely sinful tongue but it’s almost too much, and soon you’re moaning as he wraps his hand around your neck, pinning you against the door, and takes what he wants from you. 

His fingers slide higher and higher and you just feel them brush teasingly against your panties when the car suddenly comes to a stop. 

“Here we are!” 

To his credit, Milo kept the music sort of loud and the windows down to drown out the noises you were making, that Eddie totally was eating up and egging you on more and more. He pulls away from you, admiring your kiss-swollen lips and the dazed look in your eyes. 

“Let’s get you inside Princess”

“Thank you for tonight… I wouldn’t have minded staying alone, but this was really nice” 

Eddie has his arm over the back of the couch, his hand is laid on your thigh and you smile up at him, leaning back against the couch. He takes a sip of his champagne and sets the glass down on the coffee table. You’d both sobered up a bit after your make-out session and decided to keep the party going back at his place, it was nice to just relax and let go.

Even if it drove Eddie crazy the way you shyly came into his home and said you needed to use the bathroom and managed to hide away from him for a good 15 minutes just to gather yourself. He’d taken the liberty of setting out more drinks and impatiently waited for you to come back to him. 

“I should be thanking you, you’re a lot of fun to be around… how long are you staying in town?” 

“As long as Tommy wants me around, I’m sure he’ll get sick of me at some point” You hand Eddie your glass and he puts it down next to his 

“If he kicks you out you’re welcome here, I’ve got a spare room” His fingers trail over your thigh and you blush, scooting a little closer to him. Strawberry champagne looks good on you, he thinks as he watches your cheeks turn pink.

“Wanna see it? You know, decide if you’d even like to hang out here?” 

“Sure!” 

Eddie gets up from the couch and reaches out for you, he takes your hands and squeezes them before pulling you up into his chest. You stumble a little and giggle and he cups your face. 

“You okay?” 

“Just a little tipsy” You hum, leaning against him and he smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, enjoying the way your pretty eyelashes fluttered closed for a second 

“Yeah… I know what you mean” he leans down and kisses your eyelids, your breath fans across his face lightly and he bites his lip, looking down at yours. 

“Come on…” he squeezes your hand and leads you back to the spare room. He flicks on the lights and you peek around his shoulder, it’s painted a very pale blue and the linens match the curtains. 

“My Tia helped with decorating” he answers your questioning look and you step into the room, doing a little spin and walking over to the large full-length mirror.

“I like it, it’s nice” 

Eddie stands behind you and you look at him in the mirror, you shudder and sigh softly when his warm hands cup your shoulders. His fingers dance over your skin, down your arms, and turn you around to face him. 

“Nice huh? You haven’t even tried the bed, what if you don’t like it?”

“Oh that’s true…”

He walks backward, taking you with him, and sits down on the bed. You stall for a second before climbing into his lap and straddling him. He holds your hips and you place your hands on his chest, slowly pushing him down.

Eddie grins, running his thumbs over your hips and you smirk 

“It kinda looks like you’re the one trying to bed right now” 

“Hmmm… yeah I guess you have a point. We should fix that” 

He rolls over with you and settles between your thighs, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you 

“You know? This isn’t actually that bad, like this bed is super comfy” 

“S’why I picked it” 

You let out a soft moan, feeling his lips connect with your neck. He swirls his tongue, tasting your buttery soft skin, and moans with you. You start to work at the buttons on his shirt and he smirks, sucking on your pulse point while your fingers shake. 

“Aren’t you an eager little thing?” He teases, and you feel his hands on your thighs, pushing your dress up around your hips 

“Uh-huh, you’re sure talkin’ a whole lotta shit for someone who got me into their bed” 

“Why don’t we both be whores?” 

You toss your head back and laugh and he snickers against your neck and rolls his hips against yours and you both groan. He reaches down and you hear the clink of his belt unbuckling. 

“What’re you doing?” You whisper and he kisses your cheek 

“I don’t want to ruin these pants, getting suits cleaned isn’t that easy”

You snicker and prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him pull away for a minute and shuck off his pants, he leaves them on the chair in the corner for a second and you giggle, watching him take off his shirt too. 

He comes back over, taking your ankle and kissing the inside of it. He trails kisses down your thigh and starts to bend down, settling your thighs over his shoulders. 

“I plan on taking my time with you pretty girl… wanna take you on dates, wanna see these pretty, thick thighs splayed across my front seat”

He buries his face between your legs, nudging his nose against your soaked panties, and inhales slowly, he drags his tongue over the pathetic patch of cotton and sucks on them.

“So fucking good” He grinds his hips into the bed and you arch your back and push his face closer. He looks up at you and hooks his finger in your panties like he’s giving you the option to tell him to stop.

But the blissed-out look on your face and the hazy shade to your eyes just spurs him on. He pulls them away, moaning at the sticky tendrils that come with them and before you can even react to the cool air he’s already on you. 

He eats you like a man starved and you cry out, putting your hand on his head and tugging on his hair. 

“Jesus you taste even better than I ever imagined” 

He moans into your pussy and brings a hand up to hold onto your thigh, keeping it over his shoulder and pressing soft kisses against your skin. He looks up at you, holding your gaze with smoldering eyes and you can practically feel the gush between your legs 

“You wanna ride my face baby? Wanna feel you grind that pretty little cunt on my lips until you cum” 

“O-oh my-“

Before you can even respond you’re shrieking as he rolls you both over. He purposely wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you in place so you can't run, even when you try. He slaps your ass and you jolt, making him moan underneath you. 

“Come on Sugar, use me”

It’s the way his voice breaks when he says that, the little hint of a desperate whine that drives you to move your hips. You grip his hair and let your head fall forward, you gasp out and he hums between your legs. 

“That’s it baby” He coaxes “Grab it like you mean it” 

You pull his hair harder and he groans appreciatively

Eddie leans in and places a soft kiss right on your clit, his tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive bundle of nerves.

His hands squeeze your ass, helping to guide your movements as he encourages you and you’re lost on him. You haphazardly reach for the headboard and brace yourself as you grind on his face. He moans beneath you and spreads your cheeks enough to drag his thumb over your puckered hole. 

“Whaaat the fuck are you doing??” You keep rolling your hips and brushing your clit against his nose, you can feel his finger on you but you’re too hot and flustered to pay too much attention to what he’s doing, besides whatever he’s doing feels good anyway 

He makes a muffled answer kind of noise because it's not like he can exactly answer you for real at the moment, but you get the gist of his “just let it happen” When his tongue swirls sinfully through your folds and your back is arching deeper against his mouth. 

“E-Eddie wait I’m gonna cum please let me down please pl-“

Eddie drags your hips away from his mouth just enough to glare at you

“I came here prepared to drown Y/N. I’m a firefighter, you think I can’t handle gushing water?” 

You bark out a laugh and he shoves you back over his mouth and you shriek, your hands reaching out for the headboard and he smacks your ass, squeezing your full cheeks in his hands. He moans underneath you and pushes his fingers inside you at the same time and you finish, your hips grinding down on his mouth while he drinks your juices.

Your head falls back with a soft opened mouth gasp, stars exploding behind your eyes. He works his fingers in and out of your ass while sucking hard on your clit and you reach down with one hand, trying to push him away. 

“S-stop!” You writhe on his mouth and he hooks his arm around your waist, pinning you down to him so you can’t get away from him. He works you through another earth-shattering orgasm and you slump forward against the headboard, crying into it as your thighs shake around his face. 

He pulls his fingers away and pushes you down off his mouth, gasping loudly while reaching for your waist to steady himself. 

“Jesus fucking Christ you taste good” He licks at the wetness on your torso and you whine and try to shuffle back down his body. He snickers and keeps you sat on his chest for a bit, rubbing his face against your breasts and you flick his forehead. 

“Quit being a perv and let me go!” 

He rolls his tongue over your nipple and you shudder when he bites down gently, sucking it between his lips.

“Cállate, corazón” 

Your mouth drops open and he chuckles, pulling away with a wet pop! And bringing you down his torso like you’d asked 

“Did you just tell me to shut up??” You narrow your eyes when he brings you face-to-face with him

“No? I don’t know what you’re talking about” 

He turns you both over and wraps his arms tightly around you then nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling your lingering perfume and the distinct scent of sex that clings to your body. 

“I feel like you’re lying” You look at his closed eyes and the corner of his mouth twitches upward. 

“Shhhh, go to sleep” 

He blindly runs his hand down your face and you groan, batting at his hands and snuggling into his chest. 

“Asshole” You mumble and he places a soft kiss on your shoulder

“Mhmmm sure am” 

Eddie rolls over the next morning, reaching for you but he comes up with an empty bed. His eyes pop open and sure enough, you aren’t there, he sits up slowly, wiping at his eyes and sighing as he reaches for his phone. Buck has sent at least 25 texts… because that’s just him and Tommy has left a couple, asking about you how you’re doing, and when he should come get you.

He answers those ones first, telling him that he’ll bring you home later and that he and Buck should enjoy their day together, then he wades through the smut Buck sent him.

Wow! He’s so glad he could know Tommy’s EXACT size. 

A little knock at the door gets his attention and he looks up 

“Come in??” 

You push open the door with your shoulder and he holds back a groan. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, it sticks to your curves and doesn’t quite fit over your hips. It stretches across your breasts and he can see your dark nipples through the white fabric. 

“H-hi” he awkwardly shifts a pillow into his lap, watching you bring a tray into the bedroom. 

“I made you breakfast, it was the least I could do after you let me stay the night…” 

You set the tray down, breakfast for two and he takes it so you can climb into bed with him. 

“Personally I feel like the eating I did last night was payment enough but whatever, not that any thanks were necessary” 

You whack his chest and he snickers and wraps his arms around you, kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, this was really nice of you” He nuzzles his nose into your neck and you blush, trying to push him away. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Eat your pancakes!” 

He pushes your hands down and holds them in place while he kisses your neck. 

“No really! This was sweet of you princess” He growls and you melt a little, your cheeks flushing. 

“Sooo sweet and domestic of you” He mumbles in your ear, nipping at your lobe “My good girl got her pussy eaten… so she made me breakfast” 

Your jaw drops and your mouth gapes open and shut while you try and process his freaking sentence. 

“I- no that’s- no I”

“That’s a little submissive of you don’t you think? You want me to tell you how proud I am of you?” He trails his fingers over your arm and your eyes nearly pop out of your head 

“You did such a good job baby girl, these look so good. I bet you just put your whole heart into it didn’t you?” 

You blink slowly, processing what just happened and definitely not processing why it stoked a very distinct fire in your belly. He finally pulls away and cuts out a piece from the stack, he falls back into the pillows as he chews and moans. 

“Dude what the fuck” He takes another bite and does a little happy wiggle “These are good” 

“It's a family recipe” You breathe out, coming back down from Neptune and into the adorable two-bedroom home, where you’re currently sharing a bed with a sort of stranger who took his time with you last night. 

“Buck is basically my brother, and Tommy is his boyfriend and they’re probably gonna get married so I really feel like that makes me family” 

“Or you could just marry me” You snort take the other fork and dig in 

“I was gonna say that, but I thought it would freak you out” He cheeses and it makes you roll your eyes 

“Right…right because whatever you just pulled on me wasn’t going to freak me out, but you know asking me to marry you after the first date? That’s crazy” 

“See! Now you’re getting it!” 

He holds a piece of bacon up to your mouth and you narrow your eyes and take a bite, you reach out for your juice and he grabs it for you, tilting it up to your lips.

“I can-“

“I know you can. I want to do it for you” 

There’s no room for argument and you sip it, watching him watch you. His eyes trail over your jaw and down your neck, he tips the cup a little higher making you tilt your head back more to keep from drinking it too fast. He pulls the cup away slowly and looks back at you, those pretty brown eyes sparkling. 

“You know I wasn’t lying… when I said I wanted to take you out, wanted to take my time with you… or when I said you were absolutely welcome here. It wasn’t just the champagne talking”

“I know” You smile a little and look down at your eggs “I just… don’t know if it’s realistic. Last night was…good but I don’t live here Eddie, I literally live hours away” 

“So move here” He says it like it’s the easiest thing, like it’s a complete no-brainer. 

“I’m- are you joking?? Eddie, I can’t just pick up my life and come live here? That’s not… that’s not plausible”

“What’s holding you back? You already told me you didn’t have much there for you, Tommy is here, and Buck is here! And you love him already… and I mean, even if things about work between us? If there even is an us… I want to be your friend Y/N first and foremost. Even if you wanted to stop exploring whatever this?” he gestures between the two of you “Is?? I’d be happy just being your friend, and right now I’ve got the means for you to be here so… why not just take a chance?” 

You flop back in the pillows, considering what he’s said and he flies a little piece of bacon over to you again and you giggle. 

“Besides, my garden remember? I wanted you to see it in May and it’ll be a heck of a lot easier if you’re living here. Maybe we can even plant things together? Make it ours?” 

Ohhhh boy did he know how to bargain. Plants??? A garden?? It’s like he knew your heart already. 

“I can even put a nice chair out there for you, so you can read in the sun” 

He’s got this soft way with words, this really soft, really convincing… really-

“I’m gonna move here aren’t I?” 

“You can decorate this room however you want” 

“Tommy is gonna kill me” 

“You’re definitely going to have to share it with Buck” 

“Yeah I can see that” 

“But you’ll do it? You’ll move in with me?” 

Eddie is so eager to have you and it’s hard not to get excited with him, you sit back up and turn to him, and he mimics your stance, looking into your eyes in that deep way he always seems to look at you with 

“You promise that… that if things don’t work out between us… you won’t kick me out?” 

“I promise Y/N on my word, I do. I want to be your friend too honey… our relationship doesn’t have to just be whatever this is you know?” 

“Okay…okay. It would take some time to get everything together… I’d have to sell my apartment and get everything in order to be shipped here. Can I bring Saturn?? I should have asked that first, cause this ain’t goin’ nowhere if that little bunny isn’t with me”

“I’m not a monster” Eddie slaps his hand on his chest offendedly and you giggle “Of course that precious baby can come too. Hey! Why don’t we go on a date today hm? I’ll buy that little bunny whatever she needs to be comfortable here and we can get lunch” 

“I-I can’t ask you to do that” you stutter and he moves closer while pushing the tray away from you two. 

“You’re not asking, and neither am I ” 

He places his hand on your neck, gently pushing you backward onto the bed and you gulp, looking up at him. He squeezes lightly and nuzzles his face against yours then places a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“You’re going to make me very very happy  Princess. I just know it” 

You let out a shaky breath and he settles between your legs again just like last night 

“Whaddaya say princess… you want an encore?” 

You’re about to answer when your phone rings, Eddie reaches over you and grabs it, handing it to you, and then kisses his way down your body.

“Hi T-Tommy!” You take in a sharp breath as Eddie kisses the front of your panties and hooks his fingers in them 

“I have something to tell you” 

[stuckonmark]

accidents. mark lee

10. where are the drinks bitches!

before coming into college, you never thought you’d have time for parties in general. you thought volleyball would consume your life and it did, but now that you were injured, you had a little more freedom. going to parties was never your type of vibe, but it was fun going every once in awhile. meanwhile, mark and his friends were upstairs playing beer pong and messing around.

“you fucking bitch! i made the shot fair in square!” haechan whined, as he threw his arms in the air. “we’re doing eye to eye first stupid.” jaemin yelled back.

there was a lot of chaos going on upstairs. mark was just drinking his beer and watching his friends goof around. his life finally felt at peace. he had nothing to worry about. basketball was going extremely well, his friends were joyful, and things were good with you so far.

“where the hell did winter go!” you were practically yelling because of how loud it was. music was blaring into your ears, while people were dancing and socializing. “i think she went upstairs!” karina looked like she was trying to have a good time, but bodies were starting to get pressed up on you and her. “let’s get out of this mess, yeah?”

you and karina made your ways upstairs and lo and behold, there was winter with some boy near the beer pong table. you walked up to them and winter immediately embraces y’all. “there you guys are! let me introduce you to my new friend haechan! he’s the best guys.” winter was pretty much slurring on all her words.

“wait aren’t you the guy that keeps replying to my tweets..” the boy just chuckled, but he had no shame. “that’s right! lee donghyuck at your service, but you can call me haechan. i am notably known to be the manager of the basketball team and the ladies love me!” you couldn’t help, but awkwardly laugh at his introduction. you knew he was friend’s with mark, but you didn’t see mark anywhere yet.

“honey, if you’re looking for mark. i’m sure he’s here somewh-” you turn your head and see mark on the couch, talking to mina with his hand on her waist. they looked like they were enjoying each others’ company. the last thing you heard was that they weren’t seeing each other anymore and that was coming from mark. you were confused and kind of hurt that he lied to you. you quickly shook it off, as you were starting to feel uncomfortable. you turned back to your friends and haechan, who were waiting for your reaction.

“let’s get this party started! where are the drinks bitches!”

after a few shots and a couple drinks go by, haechan decides to pull a few people to play seven minutes in heaven. you weren’t really excited to play, but you were too out of it to go do something else. your thoughts got interrupted when the first bottle spin lands on you.

“looks like yn got picked! now, who’s the lucky person gonna be!” haechan spins the bottle again and it felt like all eyes were on you. you could feel everyone’s eyes piercing through your skull. you were watching intently too, hoping not to get some weird g-

“would you look at that! it’s mark lee! okay you two, head into the room and get your freak on for seven minutes!” everyone cheered, while you and mark were basically shoved into some random room. you and mark just awkwardly seated yourselves onto the bed.

“so.. i wasn’t expecting you to come out tonight.” mark softly chuckles, while he scratches the back of his head.

“yeah, me neither.” you dryly reply, as you were looking for some way to escape.

“look we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. i promise i won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.” “i know mark.” things were getting a little awkward between you two. the silence was so deafening that you could hear the conversations going on outside of the room.

“is everything okay? i swear we were literally good yesterday.” mark was trying to find some sort of way to meet your eyes, but you wouldn’t budge. “i’m fine mark. don’t push it.”

“look, i’m not the guy that everyone makes me out to be. i’m a good guy, yn and i just want us to get along. i know i don’t have the best reputation, but everyone doesn’t know who i really am. i don’t really like the spotlight being on me. i’m just constantly in it.” mark was pleading for any response from you. you hadn’t noticed it, but he had inched closer to you.

you felt for mark. you understood how he felt. no one should have to go through something like that. maybe mark was different. you were just too scared to let him in.

“i promise you, mark. there’s nothing wrong with you. i understand how you feel. i’m just scared. people have done me dirty in the past and i’m scared you will too.” you were looking down at your hands, like you were always doing. fiddling with them always gave you comfort

“just let me in, yn. i’m not going to hurt you.”

“but how do i know that..” you wanted to believe mark, but your past tells you that you shouldn’t trust him.

“i promise, yn. i’m not here to hurt you.” you hadn’t realized it, but mark had cupped your face and lifted your head up to face him. you looked into his eyes, down to his lips, and back up at his eyes, while mark’s eyes were following yours. you did not know what you were feeling, but your body was definitely not listening because you were leaning into mark.

“OKAY 7 MINUTES IS UP! COME ON OUT!”

previous — m.list — next

notes. happy valentine’s day everyone! for the special day, y’all get an update haha 🤍

taglist. open! @mmjhh1998 @haluenx @urlocalbeaner5 @cloudmrk @dudekiss3r @iluv7tn @jae-n0 @kikookii @remgeolli @lyleo @wumutititititi @kittydollzz @nctdreamchaser @kodasity @sibwol @worldwidecutiemaya @bbykaixx @luvsooby

[lady-lostmind]

Happy Valentine's Day! Reposting this one in the spirit of the day.

Rating: E | WC: 5,451 READ ON AO3

February 14th 1987. 

"This is stupid. This is so stupid." Eddie mumbles to himself as he paces back and forth in front of Steve's house, a single rose in one hand, and a mixtape in his back pocket. He glances nervously at the front door, wondering for the millionth time if he's read this all wrong. 

And what is he even doing? What even is this stupid holiday other than a bunch of capitalistic bullshit designed to trick people into buying flowers and candy because if you don't you somehow care less about the person you love than you did every other fucking day. 

Not that he's in love. He didn't mean- he's not…

Eddie is ripped out of his spiral at the sound of the door opening, and Steve's confused voice as he says " Munson?"

January 3rd 1987.

Eddie saunters into Family Video, shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge the frankly ridiculous amount of snow that has accumulated in his hair from the short walk across the parking lot. 

Steve scoffs from behind the counter. “Do you mind? You know I have to clean up the puddle all that snow is going to leave, right?” 

Eddie grins as he walks over to lean against the counter into Steve’s space, batting his eyes obnoxiously. “But isn’t it worth it, Harrington, to be graced with the privilege of my company?” 

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie goes willingly, even as he catches the slight blush now coloring Steve’s cheeks. Always so easy to get a rise out of. He barely has to try at all. 

But try he does. Every flush of skin, every roll of eyes and annoyed glare, every playful shove and amused chuckle, Eddie craves them all. Anything he can pull from Steve feels like a triumph, a little reward, a tiny consolation prize for every awful fucked up thing that happened to him. Because if it wasn’t for the whole end of the world, almost dying thing, he would never have ended up here. There is no way, under normal circumstances he and Steve would be friends like this. That he would put up with Eddie coming in to pester him at work, getting the floors dirty, and shamelessly flirting with him. They would have remained on opposite sides of an invisible line drawn long ago. The King, and The Freak.  

So, sure. Almost dying and watching his entire sense of reality crumble in front of him had been like, the fucking worst. A total fucking bummer. But at least it gave him this tentative friendship with Steve Harrington . 

“Why are you guys even open? No one is coming to get movies in this fucking blizzard.” Eddie grabs a candy bar off the shelf in front of the register and rips it open, shoving half of it in his mouth in one bite. 

Steve glares at him. “Are you going to pay for that? And you’re literally here. You are why we’re open.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, shoving the rest of the candy bar in his mouth and talking around it. “Yeah but I’m only here because you’re here. I’m not a customer. ” 

Steve picks the candy wrapper up off the counter where Eddie so generously abandoned it. “Just here to steal candy, then?” His voice is condescending as he tosses the wrapper in the trash. 

Eddie ignores him. “Where’s Buckley?” 

Eddie knows exactly where Buckley is. He saw her earlier and she told him she had the night off, and was going to have a sleepover with Nancy. Seemed very giddy about that fact, actually. So, Eddie knew Steve would be here on his own tonight, and probably without any plans for after work. 

Steve grabs a stack of movies from the counter and walks around to the shelves to start putting them away, Eddie trailing after him. 

“She’s off tonight.” He says with a shrug. 

Eddie hums a response. “You meeting up with her later?” He asks like he couldn’t care less whether he is or not. 

Steve shakes his head as he leads them down another aisle to pop The Breakfast Club back on the shelf. “Nah, she’s hanging with Nance tonight.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf, blocking Steve’s path forward. “You want some company to wait out the storm with, then?” 

Steve’s eyes meet his and Eddie feels his stomach tighten as he waits for Steve’s response, watches as the corner of Steve’s mouth pulls up in a smirk as his eyes flash back to the movies in his hand. “Sure, Munson.” He gestures to the empty store around them. “Why don’t you pick out a few movies?” 

Eddie leaves Steve to his task and roams down the aisles, barely comprehending the movies titles streaming by him as he goes. He’s suddenly racked with anxiety. He hadn’t really expected Steve to actually agree. They’ve never really hung out on their own before, outside of Eddie’s tendency to linger around while he’s working. But he said yes. Well. He said sure. Technically. But still. A whole evening alone with The King.  

January 10th, 1987

Eddie rushes to the door of the trailer and pulls it open, a wide grin plastered on his face. “ Harrington! Welcome to my humble abode.”

Steve hands him a six pack of beer as he steps in and shrugs off his coat and slips his feet out of his shoes. 

Eddie stashes the beer in the fridge and comes back out to an awkward looking Steve, still hovering in the doorway. “You can like, sit down, man.” He says as he nudges Steve’s shoulder and makes his way over to the couch, flopping down in his usual spot in the corner. 

He expects Steve to perch himself in Wayne’s armchair, the only other seat available other than- 

Steve sits down next to Eddie on the couch. And not like, squished into the other corner, either. Next to him. Their thighs are almost touching. Could be if Eddie just-

“So, you gonna finish rolling that -'' Steve gestures to where Eddie abandoned the joint he’d been rolling for them when he heard Steve’s knock on the door. “-or are we going to watch-” He picks up the movie Eddie rented from Robin earlier off the table, face scrunching as he takes in the cover. “-Labyrinth completely sober? Because honestly, Munson, I don’t know if I’ve got it in me.”

Eddie snorts as he snatches the movies out of Steve’s hands. “You have no taste, Harrington.” He rattles the tape in the box. “This movie is a work of art. ” He tosses the movie back down, sitting up to resume his forgotten task. “But I agree, the viewing experience is greatly enhanced if you’re high.” His rings clack against each other as he moves his deft fingers carefully, packing the little paper and rolling it quickly together. Feels Steve’s eyes on him the whole time like his gaze is burning the side of his face. He licks the edge and seals it, convinces himself he didn’t see Steve’s eyes shift up from his mouth when he turns to him and presents him with the finished product with a flourish. “For you, my liege.”  

Steve rolls his eyes but accepts the offering, bringing it up to his mouth and looking expectantly at Eddie as he just stares back at him like an idiot. Steve points to the joint and mumbles “ Got a light?” around it. 

“Oh!- uh” Eddie fumbles around as he digs his lighter out of the front pocket in his jeans. He flicks it open, catching a spark and lighting it as he goes, holding it out for Steve to take. 

But he doesn’t. He just leans in close and lights the joint between them, still clamped between his lips. His eyes flick up to meet Eddie’s, and he stays there for just a moment longer than necessary before leaning back and taking in a deep inhale. 

Eddie watches with wide eyes as Steve tilts his head back, exposing the scar that wraps around his neck. He watches as a plume of smoke escapes Steve’s mouth, billowing around him. He’s gorgeous. Eddie has known that for a long time, obviously. He has fucking eyes. He thought Steve was gorgeous even when he was walking the halls of Hawkins High as ‘ The King.’ Too high and mighty to give lowly peasants like Eddie ‘ The Freak’ Munson a second of his time. 

But he knows now that Steve is gorgeous , in every sense of the word. In the way he cares fiercely for every single member of their fucked up, apocalypse stopping, rag tag group. In the way his brows cinch together when someone says something that goes over his head. In the way he tilts his head to the right when he’s trying to hear what someone is saying on the side with his bad ear. He never complains about it, never corrects them. Eddie’s not sure he even knows. But Eddie does. Eddie notices. He notices all the ways Steve Harrington is gorgeous. And most of them have nothing to do with that magnificent head of hair. 

January 23rd 1987

Steve has been hanging around a lot. On his own . No prompting from Eddie. No annoying him and wearing him down until he agrees to shut him up and get a moment of peace during his shift at Family Video, no Buckley buffer to hide behind as a group hang. Just Steve, asking Eddie if he’s busy later, and Eddie, no matter what the actual truth may be, saying no. Accepting Steve’s offer every time it’s given, no matter how late notice, no matter how many times he has to call and cancel on a D&D planning session with Henderson, or a jam sesh with the band. He says he’s free for Steve. How could he not?

Which is exactly how he ended up here, sitting in an ice-crusted lawn chair, freezing his ass off as he watches Steve take a long drag from the joint he brought with him. Might not have if he knew Harrington would insist they smoke it outside, afraid Mommie Dearest would be able to smell the remnants no matter how long it is before she deigns to show her face in this house again. 

Eddie shivers violently in his leather jacket. “ Fuck, it’s cold.” He mutters as he takes the joint from Steve’s gloved hands. 

Steve rolls his eyes and slips off his heavy winter coat, tossing it over Eddie’s shoulders. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you had an actual coat on, Munson.” He tugs at the sleeve of Eddie’s leather. “This thing can’t be doing much for you when it’s this cold. No matter how cool it makes you look.” 

Eddie scoffs,  shivering a little less as his face floods with heat. He can smell Steve’s cologne wafting up from his coat and resists the urge to turn and press his face into the fabric to get a better whiff. “Yeah, the jacket has really solidified my reputation as cool, Harrington. Let me tell ya.” He says sarcastically, expecting Steve to laugh with him, to brush off the fact that they both know Eddie is the town pariah.

Instead Steve gets really quiet and shrugs, that little crease forming between his eyebrows. “I mean, you’re way cooler than anyone else in this stupid town.” 

Eddie stares at him with wide eyes as Steve stares down at his feet, not meeting his eyes.

January 29th 1987

Things have been happening that Eddie just can’t fully comprehend. Everything is still… the same . He still goes up to Family Video to visit Steve (and Robin). He still hovers around and is his usual flamboyant self. But when he jokingly flirts with Steve, like usual, he’s not met with the usual eye roll and loud sigh, a laugh and easy dismissal. Instead he’s met with a tense silence, and when he finds the courage to turn and look at Steve he’s always, always met with an intense stare, and blazing red cheeks. Sometimes a small smile, and a quick turn away. Sometimes a quippy flirty reply. 

Eddie doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He doesn’t want to assume that it means anything. It’s Steve Harrington. Known ladies man of Hawkins. He’s sure it’s just…Steve getting more comfortable with how Eddie is. They’ve been spending a lot more time together. He’s just not as phased as he was in the beginning of Eddie’s annoying tendency to blatantly show his hand. 

And Eddie knows he’s okay with the whole gay thing. Buckley is a testament to that. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s gay. Or…bi? He could be bi, maybe. That could explain all the many conquered ladies. It could explain the ‘ six nuggets’ conversation Eddie overheard in the RV. 

It could explain why Steve Harrington has been flirting back.  

Because as reluctant as Eddie is to believe it’s genuine, that it’s not just Steve fucking with him, it has been happening. 

Even now, as Eddie leans his hip on the counter, purposefully in the way, Steve presses his hand softly to the small of his back as he slips past him to take up his spot behind the counter. His eyes seem to find him, more and more. Always seem to be burning with some unspoken thing that Eddie refuses to lay claim to. But it’s there.  

February 4th 1987

Eddie sits on the couch in Steve's living room, Steve's feet in his lap where he sprawled across him when he sat down, complaining about being on his feet all day at work. Eddie is sitting very still. And he's trying extremely hard to listen to the conversation going on around him. But he can't get his brain to focus on anything other than Steve's feet in his lap. Steve's legs draped over his. Steve shifting slightly and rubbing a little too close to-  

"You okay over there, Munson?" Robin's voice pulls him from his mental rambling. 

Eddie's eyes snap to her, catching the knowing glimmer in her eyes, the slight smirk on her face. He sends her a  glare, silently cursing her for bringing attention to the situation as he feels his face flare in embarrassment. 

“I’m fine, Buckley.” he says, still shooting daggers at her as she tries to cover her snicker. 

Steve shifts again and suddenly his feet are gone, back on the floor as he gets up saying something about popcorn. Eddie waits until he hears the microwave turn on before turning back to Robin and whispering in a furious, but hushed tone “What the fuck was that, Buckley?” 

She waves him off with an annoyed flick of her wrist. “Oh, come on. You two have been dancing around each other for a month. It’s getting boring. I’m just trying to get to the finale.” 

Eddie’s mouth hangs wide open. She’s insane. She thinks there’s actually something happening between them? Just because, what? Steve’s comfortable enough to put his feet in Eddie’s lap? He does that to Robin , too. “I don’t know what you’re- Steve isn’t gay , Robs.” 

Robin rolls her eyes and sighs. “Maybe not completely. But he’s been looking at you with that same puppy dog look he used on me before he knew I was , so I think I probably have a good idea what it looks like when Steve likes someone. Plus the fact that he very abruptly stopped flirting with every girl that walked into the store around the same time you started showing up there all the time…” She shrugs and leans back more in her chair. “But  sure. Nothing’s going on, Munson.” 

Eddie just stares at her while his brain melts out of his ears. Because if what she’s saying is true…if even Robin thinks all the flirting and touching and general interest is genuine … if she thinks Steve likes him-

Steve plops back down next to him, feet returning to their spot on Eddie’s lap as he munches on a few pieces of popcorn. “What did I miss?” 

February 14th 1987

It’s Valentine's day and for two weeks Eddie has been trying to convince himself that all this with Steve is real. That it’s worth making a move. Because he’s realized that if something is going to happen… if things are going to move forward from this infuriating, confusing, will they won’t they romantic comedy bullshit… it’ll have to be him. Steve won’t risk outing himself like this if he’s not sure Eddie will reciprocate. And since Eddie spent a month treating all this like a joke, not believing he had ever had a real shot with Steve… he’ll have to show him he means it. All of it. Every stupid flirty remark, every long stare, every blush. He meant it all. And if Steve had too, if he had been showing his true feelings this whole time…Eddie has to know. 

He climbs in his van, feeling incredibly cheesy with a rose and sappy love song mixtape, and drives to the Harrington residence. On Valentine’s Day. Like doing this on the day of love makes it more of a grand gesture than if he’d done it yesterday, or waited until tomorrow. Stupid.  

He tells himself that, over and over until he finds himself in front of Steve’s house, rose in hand, and a very confused looking Steve Harrington staring at him from his door. 

“ Munson?”

Eddie freezes in his pacing, both physical and in his brain. The whirling thoughts stop dead as he realizes what an idiot he’s been. Because sure, if this doesn’t go how he wants it’s going to really fucking suck. Bad. HE’s going to be heart broken. Devastated. But even if it doesn’t. Even if Steve really has just been playing along with the jokes and has no interest in Eddie romantically…he’s still Steve. Someone Eddie can trust. Someone he knows won’t be cruel about the let down, won’t look at Eddie any differently than he does now. So even if this all goes to hell…it’s worth a shot. 

So, he pushes his feet forward, climbs the steps on the porch, feels his heart hammer in his chest as he lets a wide grin spread across his face as he holds out the rose in offering to a wide-eyed, stunned Steve and asks, “ Steve Harrington , will you be my Valentine?” 

Eddie waits, what is probably only a few seconds, but feels like years for Steve’s face to pull into a smile, his eyes lighting up like it’s fucking Christmas morning of some shit. Puppy eyes , Robin had called them. And then he’s being pulled forward by the collar of his jacket, into the Harrington’s fancy foyer. The door shuts behind him and then he’s pressed against it, Steve’s hands on his shoulders as he leans in and - 

Their lips meet, hard and desperate as Eddie wraps his arms around Steve, tastes his tongue on his for the first time before Steve is pulling back, too soon. “Took you long enough.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves Steve back a few inches. “ So sorry I didn’t think ‘ The King’ would be interested in the town freak.” He says it jokingly. But Steve just looks at him, very seriously as he leans back in and whispers “Well, believe it, Munson.” before pushing his tongue back into Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie gasps as the thorns on the rose still in his hand cut into his palm where he went to tug roughly on Steve’s shirt, forgetting he was still holding it. Steve jerks back again, realizing it was a pain noise, not pleasure . 

Eddie holds his hand in between them, watching the little pricks of blood pool in the lines of his palm. “ Shit. Sorry- uh.” 

Steve takes the rose from him and gives the now crumpled flower a sniff before using his other hand to pull Eddie’s in the direction of the kitchen. Steve sets the rose gently on the counter before digging in a cabinet and coming back with a first aid kit. Eddie watches as Steve meticulously cleans the small cuts on his hand, grinning every time Steve glances up at him, a fresh flush of pink on his cheeks. 

When he’s finished overly bandaging Eddie’s hand, he digs through another cabinet and comes back with what must be one of his mother’s very expensive vases, fills it with water and places the rose in it and back on the counter. 

Eddie tugs at his hair as Steve turns back to him, feeling suddenly self conscious about bringing Steve a flower, about the mixtape burning a hole in his back pocket. His eyes fall to the floor as he starts to ramble. “Sorry- I- uh- know it’s stupid , the flower and the whole Valentine thing and the- I just thought- and it is Valentine’s Day - whatever the fuck that means- and Robin said-” Eddie finally looks up when Steve is back in front of him, arms boxing him in as he leans on the counter. “ Eddie -” He waits until he can tell he has Eddie’s full attention. “ Shut up and kiss me.”  

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He leans in, hand coming up to cup Steve’s neck as he presses their lips together, tangling their tongues and drowning in overwhelming relief he feels as all the tension leading up to this finally pops, flowing over them as the hands tug at clothing, and their bodies press tightly together, as Steve’s hand slips lower on Eddie’s back and-

“What is this?” Steve asks, gripping the tape that’s blocking his hand from grabbing Eddie’s ass.

Eddie feels his face go beat red again as he tries - too slowly - to stop Steve from pulling the tape out of his pocket. 

Steve stares down at the tape in his hand, ‘ Stevie’s Mix’ scrawled across the top in Eddie’s messy handwriting. He looks up at Eddie, pure wonder plastered on his face. “You made me a mix?”

Eddie drops his head in his hands in embarrassment. “I know . It’s lame.” 

Steve tugs Eddie’s hands away from his face, forcing him to look at him. “You’re so sweet, Eds. No one has ever done any of this for me.” 

Eds . That’s new. Eddie gazes into Steve’s eyes and sees nothing but adoration and he feels something snap into place. Like the last piece of the puzzle. And he finally accepts it. Steve wants him here. Wants this just as much as Eddie does. 

Eddie surges forward, determined to make the most of this, from the very start. To taste and feel as much of Steve as he’s allowed. He pulls Steve back to his mouth before moving to bite and nibble along his jaw and neck. Steve lets out a desperate whimper that sends Eddie directly to his knees with a groan as he reaches out to tug open the belt at Steve’s waist, pops the button on his jeans, and slides the zipper down. He looks up to watch Steve’s mouth fall open with a moan as he reaches his hand in, gripping onto - what just may be his new fucking lifeline - Steve Harrington’s - gorgeously girthy - cock with a long stroke as he pulls it free of it’s confines. “ Fuck, Eddie.” Steve’s voice is breathy, his eyes locked onto Eddie’s hand where his rings press into the hard skin. 

Eddie leans forward, pausing with his mouth right in front of the glistening tip, looking up in silent question. Steve nods, letting his hand slip down to Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing gently before he lets his hand fall back to his side. Eddie opens his mouth wide, letting his lips slide over his teeth as a barrier as he slides his mouth over Steve, feeling the weight of him on his tongue for the first time. Can’t stop the moan that escapes him as he tastes him, hears Steve’s answering moan around him. He holds himself there, trying to give himself a moment to relax, to let his throat open, before he presses in further. Steve lets out another deep moan as Eddie feels him hit the back of his throat. Feels Steve’s hands sweep his hair away from his face, holding it gently in a clump at the base of his neck. Feels the way those fingers tighten the faster he moves, up and down, the farther he pushes at the bottom, letting himself gag just a little before pulling back up. The way he loves the sting on his scalp as Steve’s grip goes from gentle and caring to tugging and holding. How he goes from standing completely still, letting Eddie move as he likes, to rolling his hips along with his movements, pushing himself in a little more, a little deeper. 

Eddie holds onto Steve’s hips tightly, doesn’t pull away even when he feels tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes when one push forward causes him to gag significantly. He just holds on and slides Steve along his tongue, trying to ignore the way his jeans are rubbing against him every time he shifts or moves until Steve suddenly pulls back, and tugs Eddie up by his arm, pulling him to his mouth to kiss him deeply despite the fact that Eddie’s chin is covered in spit, spreading along Steve’s as well and he’s sure Steve can taste himself on Eddie’s tongue. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” Steve mutters against his mouth as he tugs his jeans back up and leads the way, tugging Eddie along behind him as he tries to catch up with the abrupt shift from having Steve’s dick down his throat to being led to his bedroom. Because fuck. They were still in the fucking kitchen for all of that. 

As soon as he crosses over the doorway to his room Steve strips himself bare, tossing his clothes carelessly to the floor and going to lay on the bed. Eddie lets himself take in the view. The confident look in his eye. The moles that trail all along his skin. The bust of hair on his chest. The scars so similar to his own, the thing that bonded them represented so solidly on each of their bodies. 

His eyes flash back up to Steve’s before he follows his lead, pulling his shirt over his head, stepping out of his jeans, and hesitating only slightly before letting his boxers follow them to the floor. 

He wastes no time standing around, waiting for Steve to realize how different his body is from his own. Less defined by muscle, more lanky and soft. Even more different from the many bodies he’s sure Steve has pressed into this very bed. The same bed he’s climbing into, the same lap he’s straddling now, lowering himself down on until their skin meets, dicks grazing each other as he settles, each of them letting out a soft gasp at the contact. 

“ Fuck, Steve.” Eddie can feel his dick leaking, slicking them both as another roll of their hips presses them more firmly together against Steve’s stomach. 

Their mouths meet again in a desperate kiss, mouths open, moans melding together as they rut against each other, and just when Eddie thinks he may not be able to stand it anymore, just when he’s about to ask Steve for just a little room to slip his hand around them both and add some much needed pressure - 

“ Can I fuck you, Eds?”  

Eddie almost loses it right then. Just hearing those words fall out of Steve’s mouth. He’s nodding already. His brain catching up well before his voice. 

“Need to hear you say it, baby.” Steve’s voice has dipped low. The sound of it making Eddie whine in a way he’s never heard come out of his mouth before. 

“ Yes, please Steve.” He rocks himself in his lap, dragging their cocks together again before Steve stills him, holding him down by his hips. 

“If you keep doing that, this will be over before I get to.” 

Eddie whines again but keeps still as Steve presses a soft kiss to his lips before rolling him over so his back is pressed to the mattress and Steve is hovering over him. Steve leans down and kisses him again before working his way down Eddie's body, sucking bruises into his neck, teeth grazing his nipple, tongue licking along the edge of a scar. Every new touch sends shivers down Eddie’s spine and soon he’s writhing on the bed, desperate for Steve to do anything to him other than these teasing touches that only have him wanting more. “ Steve, please.”  

He feels Steve grin against his inner thigh and pressing a quick kiss there before sitting up to lean over to his nightstand and pull out a bottle of lube and a condom. 

Eddie’s mouth goes dry as he realizes what he’s agreed to and he glances down to where Steve’s cock bobs between his legs, heavy and waiting for attention. He hears the cap of the lube pop open, watches as Steve coats his fingers and settles back between his legs, pressing his middle finger to his rim, slowly pushing his way inside, eyes never leaving Eddie’s, blown wide as he watches Eddie tense up and then relax as Steve begins to move, working him open. Feels the burn as he adds another finger, moans toppling over each other as he presses deeper as his fingers curve- 

“ OH FUCK!” Eddie rocks his hips, pressing down as much as he can onto Steve’s fingers before reaching down to still his wrist. “ I’m ready. Please just- I’m ready.”  

Steve presses another kiss to his thigh before slowly easing his fingers out and getting up on his knees as he rips open the condom and rolls it over his hard length, slathers himself in lube, and hikes one of Eddie’s legs up of his shoulder as he leans in and presses his tip to Eddie, pausing to look down at him, waiting for his okay to continue. 

Eddie nods vigorously. “I’m ready, go. ” 

Steve pushes forward, slowly. Agonizingly slowly. Eddie can feel himself stretching more and more as he inches his way in. Steve groans loudly as he bottoms out and Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, feeling more full than he ever has, clamping around Steve as he stills and waits for Eddie to adjust. 

Sooner than Steve is probably expecting, sooner than he probably should Eddie whimpers “ Move, Steve.”  

Steve lets out another moan before pulling slowly back, and then just as slowly pushing forward again. It’s not enough. Not nearly enough. Eddie needs him to move.  

He grabs Steve’s chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “ Stop holding back, Harrington.”  

He watches as a flame is lit behind Steve’s eyes, feels more than hears the rumble that comes from deep in his chest as he pulls his hips back and slams into Eddie, shattering the slow steady pace he had set before. 

“ AHH-FUCK-AHH” Eddie is loud. He’s never this loud. But as Steve drives into him, he’s loud. He screams Steve’s name as his nails rake down his back, trying to find purchase, fingers trying to hold on to something, anything as Steve gives him everything he’s got. 

Steve shifts Eddie’s leg to the side, giving him a little more room to- 

“ FUCK-FUCK-FUCK” Eddie cums hard as Steve’s new angle lets him hit home, sending Eddie hurling over the edge with no warning. 

“ Fuck, Eds. Oh god that was-fuck”  And then he’s following behind him, Eddie can feel his cock throb in his now overly sensitive ass making him whimper as Steve collapses on top of him, pressing kisses to his chest and neck as they both lay still, trying desperately to catch their breath. 

Steve shifts and gently eases himself out before heading to the bathroom. He returns with a glass of water and a washcloth, handing Eddie the water as he wipes the mess off of Eddie’s stomach and chest. He tosses the washcloth on the floor and sets the glass of water on the table before climbing back in next to Eddie and pulling him to lay against his chest. 

Eddie lets out a satisfied sigh as Steve’s fingers slip into his long curls. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eds.” 

Eddie grins, still slightly in shock that this half assed plan of him led him here. To Steve’s bed, on Steve’s chest, well and truly fucked out of his mind. He tilts his head to press a kiss there and sighs again. “Happy Valentine’s Day, big boy.”

[ethereacals]

so american <3

Chapter Four: Operation: Get Him Back!

synopsis: Remus grows attached to an American transfer student from Ilvermorny

trope: idiots in love, grumpy x sunshine

pairing: remus lupin x american!reader

(R is alluded and mentioned to be in gryffindor)

content: r and remus are seperated ):, but not for long <3

wc: 1.2k

series masterlist

a/n; happy valentines day!

EVERYTHING WENT WRONG so quickly.

And you were still trying to wrap your head around the situation regarding Remus.

“I trust you, Remus.”

“Can I kiss you— Remus?”

“I—I don’t want to force you to do anything—“

He lashed out.

“Why do you want to kiss me? Out of everyone?” He moved himself back a bit, and you frowned softly.

You were drunk and still recovering from your closet incident.

“You don’t want to kiss Sirius?”

“I— no I don’t want to kiss him! I’m asking you!”

“Y/n, you don’t want to kiss me.”

“Remus—“

“Y/n, you don’t want to kiss me.”

“If you don’t like me, Remus. You can just say it.”

“I’m just protecting you!”

“Protecting me from what?”

“Myself!”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause i’m a bloody Werewolf, okay?”

Once Remus had realized what he said— silence fell upon both of you.

“Remus..—“

“I have to go.”

“No— please— Remus—“

“I’m dangerous, Y/n. And if you’re smart, you’ll never speak to me again.”

Never speak to him again? Absolutely not.

Were you a bit bold in asking him to kiss you so abruptly? Absolutely, but why did Remus assume you weren’t being truthful and wished to kiss someone else?

And why did he run away?

Did he mean to say he was a were-wolf?

You needed to know more, and potentially bridge the gap between yourself and the boy of your dreams.

But where to start?

So, you came up with a plan. (after you spent hours being inconsolable, [sorry, dorcas.])

Operation: get him back.

First; You needed to speak with Sirius (or James, he works too.) immediately, figure out if Remus really is what he said he was.

Second; Explain to Lily your situation, perhaps she would know how to make amends? They do study together.

and Third; Regain your friendship with Remus and vow to never fall in love with him ever again.

That third step will be the hardest.

"JAMES!"

The bespectacled boy quickly pivoted to lay his eyes on you.

"Y/n? What's the matter?" He strutted across the common room towards you, and Remus shared some uncomfortable eye-contact with you for a moment.

"Um.. we need to talk somewhere... private." You urged, all while ushering him away and into the portrait hole near the entrance.

"Merlin, seriously- what's all of the fuss about?" He whined.

"It's about Remus, last night- He took me to the Boathouse after the whole incident with Lockhart and- I was stupid and jumped the gun and asked him to kiss me-"

"Stop, you asked him to kiss you?" James gawked.

"Yes, now-"

"That's rich."

"Stop interrupting me!" You snapped.

"The point is, Remus freaked out and blurted out that he was a.. a werewolf- and ran off and I don't know what to do and-"

"Calm down, okay? Wow, that is incredibly unlike Remus to just blurt that out." James perceived from your situation.

"What do I do?"

"I'll talk to him, try to help him sort out his feelings."

"Godric bless you, James Potter." You patted his cheek in thanks.

"Mum always told me I was a god-send." He beamed, clearly a bit full of himself but you know what they say- James had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it.

"Do make sure he knows that I'm not... like- against lycanthropes?" You suggested gingerly.

"I'll make sure." James grinned, before going back to his company.

First step- Complete.

REMUS IS EXTREMELY AND irrevocably torn.

It's been three days since you have spoken, three.

And he's beside himself with how upset he is.

He didn't mean to lash out, he really didn't.

"Remus! That's the girl of your dreams!" Sirius argued from across the couch.

"Maybe, she was meant to be- but I fucked everything up!" Remus took a long sip from his fire-whisky.

"Then go un-fuck everything up!" Peter cheered, clearly missing the memo.

"It's not that easy! I told her about my- problem.. and she probably doesn't want anything to do with me anymore!" Remus defended.

"No, mate. She distincively told me that she had no problem with your problem." James explained simply.

"Ha! I knew she wouldn't care!" Sirius barked.

"Still, I told her to never speak to me ever again."

"Ooh.. that's low, mate." Peter ceased his mindless celebration and silently judged Remus' life descisions all while taking a bit out of his bread.

"Do you think I don't know that?"

"Well- you need to fix it! Both of you need too!" Sirius slammed his hand down on the coffee table.

"I know- but how?" Remus sighed, his face falling into her hands.

"Perhaps when you have to meet for astronomy?" James suggested. "That's not till Saturday." "At the Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor game?" Sirius pointed out. "She might not even go." "Send her a lovely letter from an anonymous sender to meet somewhere rather romantic and pretty?" Peter joked, but Remus' face lit up.

"Yes! Peter, you are a genius!"

"What did I say?" Peter asked, confused.

But Remus couldn't find time to respond, as he rushed to his parchment and quill.

This was going to be the best damn letter ever written.

"SO, REMUS ISN'T SPEAKING to you, hm?" Lily combed her fingers through your hair.

"I totally messed everything up." You cupped your face into your hands.

"No- honey, you didn't. Everyone was a bit intoxicated and you should never feel the need to apologize for liking someone." She wrapped her arms around you consolingly.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Lily." You smiled softly.

"Same to you, lovely." Lily cooed, brushing a stray hair out of your face.

"What do I do, Lily?"

"Well... Remus does like chocolate." She suggested wirily.

"But what kind?" You turned to face her.

"Well he loved Galaxy Minstrels, but that's a muggle chocolate-"

"I'll get him those then." You announced.

"Y/N, Galaxy Minstrels aren't sold at Hogsmeade." Lily warned, an expression of concern for your determination.

"Those are his favorites, right? I'm getting those for him come hell or high water." You insisted, and Lily couldn't hold back her smile.

"You're going to bribe him with chocolate?" She chuckled softly.

"Exactly." You smirked, a wicked smirk if Lily had any input.

A FEW DAYS LATER, the chocolates so graciously provided by your parents arrived.

And you had recieved a letter from someone to meet you by the Black Lake after hours.

And with some help from Lily (and a hint from James), you were almost certain it was from Remus.

You had flowers and chocolates in hand, and you looked like you had just stepped out of a grocery store with an post-valentines sale.

You were nervous, understandably so.

As the Black Lake came into view under the star-stricken night sky- he came into view.

Remus, and was it a relief to actually be able to speak with him again.

You stood infront of eachother, silent as a grave.

Godric, let this go well.

Tune in next time on; so american (:

(this one is a bit short, i've got cool stuff in the works!)

so american taglist;

@hisparentsgallerryy @lydpop @amatoanima @po3tbbygirl @thequeen0fhearts @yourlittlefries @jsprien213 @liviessun @wandasbitch22 @michtellch @hellokitty-girl666 @bmyva1entine @n1ght-vngel @anehkael @wolfstcr @assorted-knives @mrsblackx @moonyswifee @sunset-toast @sammyreid @wsplalala @msfandomsblog @yimthesynonym @flowerytombx @rubyinthebooks @

[primal--scream]

whoops i slipped and fell on your lips

Buck/Eddie - R - 800ish words that won't ever turn into anything else

“I guess you drew the short straw then.”

Brows drawn, Eddie turns from where he’s unpacking the grocery bag he came in with, “Short straw?”

“Yeah, the who gets to deal with Buck this time straw?” Buck leans against the closed door arms crossed over his chest trying to leash the agitation he can feel creeping to the surface.

Eddie makes a face at him, “The fuck are you talking about?”

“Look, Eddie, I fucked up, I’ll deal with the consequences. You don’t need to do all this.”

Eddie shakes his head before running his hands over his face, “It was an accident. We all know that, one that you didn’t cause.” 

Buck doesn’t refute it, he knows it's true, he knows they all know it’s true, none of them blame him for what happened, it was a freak accident. But knowing that does nothing to dissuade the voice in his head telling him he’s a screw up. A voice that sounds suspiciously like his mother.

He’s so tired of his life going to shit lately and all he really wants is five minutes to himself to lick his wounds and wallow instead of everyone trying to baby him under the pretense that he's not capable of being alone.

Eddie stares at him, eyes soft, a hint of guilt hidden within, “I know things have been tough lately,”

“It’s been a rough year all around.” Buck sighs and shuffles across the room to sit on one of the stools at the counter, one arm wrapped protectively around his ribcage, “But I’m fine, and I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling this much?” Eddie comes around the other side of the counter to stand in front of him.

Right, tell Eddie he's struggling. The same Eddie that’s been all but actively avoiding him outside of work for almost six months while Buck tries to figure out where they stand without upending the delicate balance they’ve managed to find after, well, just after. “You’re not responsible for me, Eddie.”

“You think responsibility is what this is about for me?” Eddie moves closer, further into Buck’s space, not allowing Buck to look anywhere but right at him.

“Isn’t it? Isn’t that what everyone feels? Poor Buck can’t take care of himself, right?”

Eddie half laughs, “Responsibility and what I feel for you are on opposite ends of the earth.”

Buck swallows hard as Eddie comes even closer, “Yeah? Then what do you feel?” Because Buck needs an answer, even if its not the one he wants.

They’ve been dancing around each other because of an almost kiss six months ago, and frankly Buck is tired of it. If it was nothing then Eddie needs to cut him loose definitively, so he can move on instead of leaving him hanging on this rope of confusion and possibility. The way Eddie looks at him sometimes, and then does nothing about it is about to drive Buck into the bottom of a bottle.

Closing the last half inch of space between them Eddie brushes his mouth lightly against Buck’s jaw. Buck shudders, head tilting to the side when Eddie's lips ghost down his neck, the barely there touch sending shock waves through Buck’s body making him light up from the inside, “You were in the fucking hospital again Buck, I couldn’t stop-” Eddie cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, “What do I feel for you? Want. Need. Desperation.” The last word said with so much heat that Buck feels his own temperature ratchet up a few degrees.

Eddie steps further into the vee of Buck’s thighs, his hands move to the back of Buck’s head, fingers pressing in as he draws Buck forward. Buck feels weightless, breathless, as Eddie’s nose slides along his check, until his mouth is hovering over Buck’s, their breath mingling. His pulse is hammering, body throbbing with arousal, blood rushing in his ears, his stomach flips over in anxious anticipation. He sucks in a sharp breath when Eddie’s bottom lip brushes his, feels his eyes flutter closed, waiting, wanting it so much he’s almost afraid of it.

Eddie doesn’t go slow, he surges forward, takes Buck’s mouth in a plundering siege of teeth and tongue, sliding inside, licking over every crevice until Buck feels his bones liquifying at how good it feels to finally have Eddie’s mouth on his. His hands squeeze Eddie's hips, trying to get him to come closer even though there's barely air between them as it is. He just needs so much, needs to feel Eddie, feel his body, touch him everywhere.

The kiss is deep and wet and filthy and Buck finds himself clinging to Eddie as Eddie devours him like he’s starving for it. And maybe he is, maybe he’s as hungry for this as Buck is, has been for years. Maybe Eddie does understand this living, breathing urgency to have.

“You still think it's responsibility I feel?” Eddie asks, his lips teasing at the corners of Buck’s mouth, pressing soft, chaste kisses all over his face.

Buck can’t answer, can only shake his head while Eddie kisses a trail down his throat, “If you didn’t have three bruised ribs I’d already have you naked and under me.”

Buck chokes on his own spit, has to cough for a solid ten seconds before he can breathe again while Eddie smirks at him, “So, no, Buck, I’m not feeling an ounce of responsibility for you right now.” 

Planting a final wet kiss to his check, Eddie steps away and returns to putting the groceries away leaving Buck to smile like a loon at his back.

[cigarettesaftersae]

i'll like you - 08 seven minutes in heaven

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: reo mikage x f!reader | contains : fluff, angst, jealousy, academic rivals, fake dating

masterlist

WN: emotional talk, friendship lost, no smut (ik the title is supposed to be freaky but no freak)

(erm about 5k words but nothing too serious:p)

Naomi stumbled upon Yuna’s desk the moment the bell rang, her usual nosy, insufferable self on full display. Gorgeous, smart, kind, and, of course, rich—yet somehow, she managed to be as obvious as ever.

“So… Yuna,” she drawled, tilting her head with feigned innocence. “Did Y/N like Reo?”

Yuna barely blinked. “No. Do you like him?”

Naomi let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “Heh, well…” The girls around them giggled, feet shuffling in anticipation. Everyone knew what was coming next.

“I mean, we practically grew up together and everything,” she continued, voice laced with a sickly sweetness. “But I… I guess I can’t really like him anymore since he has a girlfriend, right?”

Yuna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Maybe if Naomi got bangs, she’d be a perfect Lila Rossi knockoff.

“I was just curious,” Naomi added, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t know Y/N had a thing for him at all. It’s so… sudden.”

A dramatic sigh escaped her lips, poisoning the air with artificial sorrow. “I just thought Reo and I had something special,” she murmured, voice trembling just enough to sell the act.

Right on cue, the girls around her swarmed with words of comfort, clinging to her faux distress. Yuna, however, kept her hands to herself.

She knew.

She knew Naomi’s perfect-girl act, her fake sweetness, the way she wove a flawless love story with Reo like it was destiny. She also knew that Naomi was planning something—something that involved you.

Yet, here she was. Being her ‘friend.’

It wasn’t like her at all. But then again, lately, nothing felt real. Not Naomi. Not Reo. Not herself,

not even you. Everything was a lie.

He’s frying your brain, you figured that he was a yapper and such but WOW did you not expect this. Maybe if you just close your eyes—

“Y/n! Are you trying to sleep? I’m still talking to you.”

“Yeah, no, you’re sending extra epic echolocation straight into my ears,” you grumble.

Reo only grins, completely unfazed. “Do you have a favorite chocolate? Or did you like the ones I got you last time? Are you allergic to anything?”

“Peanut butter.”

“Wait—really?”

“I don’t know.”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

You groan, turning to the only person who might save you. “Nagi, take your boyfriend or something.”

“eh?…I thought he was your boyfriend,” Nagi mumbles, barely looking up from his phone.

Reo huffs, undeterred. “Come on, why won’t you tell me anything?”

“Because if I do, you’ll buy some overpriced $1000 junk like you did for me and my mom earlier. No more questions, I already answered enough.” You drop your head back down, finally able to close your eyes for a whole second—

“Do you have a favorite animal?”

“Reo.”

“My love, you’re hurting me.” Reo pouts, acting heartbroken

Lifting your head, you meet his gaze, his violet eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What if I get to know more about you instead?”

Reo grins. “Alright. I play the guitar, I play soccer, I speak multiple languages, and—”

“I meant know you. Not the version you project to everyone else.” Your voice lowers slightly. “I hated that version of you anyway.”

He raises a brow, amused. “So… are you saying you don’t hate me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, Barney.”

An offended scoff escapes Reo’s lips as he clutches his chest dramatically. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Look at you, purple head.” You gesture vaguely at his hair, but the longer you stare at him, the more a strange guilt settles in your chest. It creeps in like thorns growing on the stem of a ripe red rose—unseen at first, but impossible to ignore.

A sigh escapes your lips before you ask, softer this time, “What do you actually like? Not what you show off to others—what do you really like? Or hate? Your friends? Your favorite flowers?”

Reo pauses, tilting his head in thought. Seconds tick by. Thirty. Forty. A whole minute.

Finally, he exhales, a small frown tugging at his lips. “…I don’t know.”

You blink, caught off guard by the quiet admission. But you get it. His whole life has been a performance, shaped by expectations, by a lie he never really chose.

“Well,” you murmur, leaning forward just a bit. “Don’t you like soccer? Tell me about it.”

“Here, first edition by way.” Reo’s delicate hands extend a book toward you. One that you’ve been dying to read but never could find it but there it was. Just another item placed around in the 50,000 book—or maybe more, library in the Mikage house— or whatever that building was. How is that a house?

You hesitantly take hold of the book, you’re still spellbound to see it in person, right in front of your two eyes. A star so bright, and full of glitter yet this time it wasn’t out of your hand’s reach. “Is this the only thing you got me?”

“Did you want more?” Reo’s eye light up

“No. You better not have gotten more.”

The hand tucked behind his back slowly reaches out to expose a small keychain and before he could open his mouth in protest you stop him, “ah- no. Why did you even get that?”

“I just..saw it at the store and it reminded me of you.”

“I told you to stop spending things for me, this relationship isn’t even…real” You say softly, avoiding your gaze as you rub the back of your neck

“Well, yes. But our friendship isn’t right?”

It takes a good moment before youre able to gaze into his eyes and respond “It isn’t”

“Oh— and uh dinner with my parents this Friday.” His subject change wasn’t the thing that surprised, it was the fact that it was tomorrow!

“What— wait you didn’t tell me it was this week, I thought we started the Friday dinners next week!”

A chuckle. Just a nervous childish chuckle paired with a cute smile was all you received from Reo as he shy's away. He knew this would make you angry, you weren’t exactly ready to meet one of the richest families on Earth. “Well… They actually found out before I could tell them and then they just arranged to meet you Friday— or tomorrow I guess”

“Reo! I don’t even know what to wear! Have you seen my wardrobe? It’s not Mikage fancy like”

“I like your wardrobe” His happy little smile paved the way through your stress

“But Reo-” His hand softly brushes through yours in reassurance.

“Y/n, I already arranged everything for you. I’ll pick you up at 6 after school, and if you want I’ll pick something out for you to wear. You just need to sit and look pretty and eat. I’m sure the look pretty part is easy for you though.”

The last sigh allowed you to finally breathe normally, stress out the window as Reo continue to rub the sides of your shoulders and soft knuckles. His touch ever so hazy, a kiss of gentle, and melodic “I have practice today so…” Reo stopped mid-thought, gaze lingered, unreadable. He wanted to kiss your cheek a nice goodbye before heading off but he stilled. “I’ll see you tomorrow” His figure began to fade.

As Reo left, there was no point in staying at school any longer. With a sigh, you picked up your feet and headed toward the gates. The sun dimmed down, hueing it’s lucent colors on your radiant skin. Warm, you felt. Just from the touch of it’s lingering kiss, a gift from the Sun was like a gift from Reo. But the moment passed to soon, now it seemed like the dark night had conquered the sky but it didn’t. It was just Yuna.

She looked at you for moment till she started walking, speeding up to avoid you at all cost. “Wait—” it slipped out of your mouth, you’re desprate, hungry, starving—don’t leave. please

She stopped in her tracks the moment she heard your voice, her head turning back to look at you, but her eyes didn’t carry the same look she use to give you.

“I never really liked Nagi…” You try to reason, you could even break down on your knees, bruise it as it may— please, please forgive me.

“Ok..” The shatter on your heart couldn’t get any worse, you knew how angry she was. But did she know how miserable you are. How wretched of the nothing you are without her?

“Yuna—”

“Why are you dating him? Reo. You barely even talked to him, and Naomi and him are soon to be lovers one day.”

“He’s…gracious and caring”

“Is that just another labyrinth lie”

“What— no no it isn’t”

“You’re all a bunch of liars.” Naomi and her personality? Fake. Your and Reo’s relationship, a facade. Her head look down at her feet, avoiding your heavyhearted gaze. One look into your eyes and she’ll give in.

“I don’t want to talk you anymore” And with that, makes Yuna the biggest liar. She loved to talk to you right now. About how she’s having trouble understanding the math assignment, or the new boy on the streets, the spider she saw in the shower, the haircut she’s been wanting to get, but mostly just talk to you. Be with you. But her body takes control of it’s own and wanders away from the very one she die for.

Arriving home after that was nothing more than depressing, all this time you thought Yuna was avoiding you but it hit you the moment you saw her. You were the one avoiding everything, using Reo as a way to function with Yuna gone, pretending like there weren’t nasty gossip about you and Reo and now you have to meet your fake-boyfriend’s parents. Your life is a mess. You wipe away the small tear dripping down your cheek once you heard the door creak open, your mom entered. Gently setting herself next to you. “Is something wrong?”

“No…well…yeah?”

“Is it about your boyfriend? Is he treating you wrong”

You softly chuckle, her motherly humor filling the room’s warmth. Engulfing you with love

“Kinda. Tomorrow I have to go to dinner with his parents.”

“Oh…yeah… I wanted to talk to you about that.” Your mother grew in a deep breath. “I know that the choices I did in my past wasn’t…necessarily good and it can effect you gravely, but never let anyone talk you down on that. You are the greatest gift I can have.” She kiss you on the head, her hand wraps around yours “He must really like you if he’s willing to face the consequences. You know, when I went to school with his parents, they were such bitches.”

“Mom!”

“I know, I know—one dollar in the cussing jar.” She waves a hand dismissively. “But I meant it. If there’s anything bothering you, you’d tell me, right?”

You nod, offering a small smile as she leaves the room.

But the truth is—he wasn’t the problem at all. If anything, he was the reason you were still here, still happy. The weight in your chest wasn’t because of him. It was because of her.

Yuna.

The mess you made, the way things fell apart between you two—it haunted you. How could you ever forgive yourself for what happened? For the hurt you caused?

After she left, it was like the world lost its color. You spent a week drowning in your own thoughts, sinking deeper into something you couldn’t quite escape. The sky stayed gray no matter how many times you looked up, hoping for a change.

But then, when you lifted your head again, it wasn’t Yuna standing there.

It was Reo.

And for the first time in a long while, the sky didn’t seem so gray.

The next morning you’re greeted with a limo, again. Reo exits the car to say hi, but his great smile was already good enough to fill you with warmth. He almost looked like Yuna in a slight moment. “Y/n! Good morning.” He moves to the side to let you in first but quickly stops you, “Are you sure you can come to school, you look sick.” He starts to worry, hands feeling your forehead for any high temperatures, he’s looking around you if any bones or muscles are sore, or if you’re limping. “It’s okay, I’m not sick.” You reassure him, a small laughter leaves your lips as you see him worried so quickly

”Your eyes are really swollen, are you sure?’ He leaned in more close, more worried. His breath making whole contact on the hair on your skin.

“Uh— yeah you know I just got makeup in my eye so…” You try to excuse yourself and look away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“…Were you crying? Was it because of me? If you don’t want to see my parents today I’ll tell them no.”

“No it’s not that… um lets just get in the car and head to school first.” Before you could slip into the limo, his hand lands on your shoulder

“You can tell me if anything is wrong, you’re my friend y/n”

You sigh with a soft smile “Stop worrying and let’s go. We’re gonna be late”

“Late— Oh shoot we need to hurry!”

“You go ahead Nagi, we’ll meet you.” Unhurried, Reo insists his other duo to go first which was quite obvious to you what his intentions was. His heel quickly turns to face you fully, still carrying that angelic smile. “Soo…” He started off slowly, building, rhyming into your ease, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You both start walking towards the school, students in their uniforms, some messy, some neat, some— are something, pass by as you walk with your ‘boyfriend’ and to your measure girls and boys gather around to admire Reo Mikage and the flowers that following behind him as he walks. “Yeah…—well, I don’t know maybe.” Your breath hitched just for a second before saying her name, it felt impossible to say. It felt like you didn’t deserve to say her name for how horrible you were to her. You did lie to her, and you still are by playing around with the Mikage boy. “I spoke to Yuna yesterday.” Your voice steady, soft, and low. Eyes on the ground, avoidant on everything around you even the pink petals following on your shoulders and the thins between your hair. You couldn’t see but Reo’s attention shifted all upon you, and only you.

“Oh…” Reo softly caresses the side of your shoulder “I know it seems hard…I mean you’re going to meet my parents today, and you’re arguing with Yuna, but you’re never alone. You have your mom, whose nice and always seems like the type to fight for you. And you have….me. So cry or don’t cry, whatever happens from now on. I’m here.” You crane your neck up, embracing all the details of his beauty. He looked more dreamy up close. The soft pads of his thumb caress your dumpling cheek, wiping away your tear. You start to tear up even more, your nose speeding it’s way to breathe. Reo starts to panic, his eyes widen in fear Did I say something wrong?!—Was I too insensitive? Gah, I’m so stupid!

“Y—y/n! Is—is it because of me? I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry—” He quickly hugs you, comforting your head in his chest as you sob. His hand swaying back and forth in the locks of your hair. His touch smooth and caring. His other arm wrapped around you, feeling evermore secure then ever. “I’m sorry…”

Oh, and let’s not forget the crowd. Yeah, they’re still here—watching, wide-eyed, as you and Reo share what might just be the most intimate moment of your life. Their gasps are barely audible, breaths hitched in awe, eyes locked onto the quiet intimacy unfolding in the middle of the field. The world around you feels like it’s slowing down, wrapped in the warmth of his touch, his words, him. And yet, the weight in your chest lingers.

The longest seven minutes of your life. That’s how it felt—wrapped in Reo’s warm embrace, his hand smoothing over your hair as if trying to silence every unspoken fear inside you. Your breath steadies, the tear-stained ache in your chest easing, and yet… he doesn’t let go. Even with the crowd long gone, leaving only the two of you beneath the gentle breeze of the afternoon, he still holds you. "Reo…” Your voice is quiet, but it’s enough to make him straighten, body instantly attentive, as if ready to spring into action at your every word. You hear the nervous gulp in his throat. "Yes?" His response is soft, cautious. You take a breath. "Thank you. Sorry I’ve been a whole mess lately." Reo scoffs playfully, his grip around you not loosening. "It’s no problem," he mumbles, barely above a whisper, like he’s scared his words might make you crumble again. For a moment, there’s only silence—comfortable, but filled with something else. Something unspoken. Then, Reo gently pulls back just enough to see your face, he brushes your hair out of your face and gazes at you a little too long. “Reo” You say softly again

“Hmm?”

“I think the bell rang already”

WN: emotional talk, friendship lost, no smut (ik the title is supposed to be freaky but no freak)

Naomi stumbled upon Yuna’s desk the moment the bell rang, her usual nosy, insufferable self on full display. Gorgeous, smart, kind, and, of course, rich—yet somehow, she managed to be as obvious as ever.

“So… Yuna,” she drawled, tilting her head with feigned innocence. “Did Y/N like Reo?”

Yuna barely blinked. “No. Do you like him?”

Naomi let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “Heh, well…” The girls around them giggled, feet shuffling in anticipation. Everyone knew what was coming next.

“I mean, we practically grew up together and everything,” she continued, voice laced with a sickly sweetness. “But I… I guess I can’t really like him anymore since he has a girlfriend, right?”

Yuna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Maybe if Naomi got bangs, she’d be a perfect Lila Rossi knockoff.

“I was just curious,” Naomi added, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t know Y/N had a thing for him at all. It’s so… sudden.”

A dramatic sigh escaped her lips, poisoning the air with artificial sorrow. “I just thought Reo and I had something special,” she murmured, voice trembling just enough to sell the act.

Right on cue, the girls around her swarmed with words of comfort, clinging to her faux distress. Yuna, however, kept her hands to herself.

She knew.

She knew Naomi’s perfect-girl act, her fake sweetness, the way she wove a flawless love story with Reo like it was destiny. She also knew that Naomi was planning something—something that involved you.

Yet, here she was. Being her ‘friend.’

It wasn’t like her at all. But then again, lately, nothing felt real. Not Naomi. Not Reo. Not herself,

not even you. Everything was a lie.

He’s frying your brain, you figured that he was a yapper and such but WOW did you not expect this. Maybe if you just close your eyes—

“Y/n! Are you trying to sleep? I’m still talking to you.”

“Yeah, no, you’re sending extra epic echolocation straight into my ears,” you grumble.

Reo only grins, completely unfazed. “Do you have a favorite chocolate? Or did you like the ones I got you last time? Are you allergic to anything?”

“Peanut butter.”

“Wait—really?”

“I don’t know.”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

You groan, turning to the only person who might save you. “Nagi, take your boyfriend or something.”

“eh?…I thought he was your boyfriend,” Nagi mumbles, barely looking up from his phone.

Reo huffs, undeterred. “Come on, why won’t you tell me anything?”

“Because if I do, you’ll buy some overpriced $1000 junk like you did for me and my mom earlier. No more questions, I already answered enough.” You drop your head back down, finally able to close your eyes for a whole second—

“Do you have a favorite animal?”

“Reo.”

“My love, you’re hurting me.” Reo pouts, acting heartbroken

Lifting your head, you meet his gaze, his violet eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What if I get to know more about you instead?”

Reo grins. “Alright. I play the guitar, I play soccer, I speak multiple languages, and—”

“I meant know you. Not the version you project to everyone else.” Your voice lowers slightly. “I hated that version of you anyway.”

He raises a brow, amused. “So… are you saying you don’t hate me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, Barney.”

An offended scoff escapes Reo’s lips as he clutches his chest dramatically. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Look at you, purple head.” You gesture vaguely at his hair, but the longer you stare at him, the more a strange guilt settles in your chest. It creeps in like thorns growing on the stem of a ripe red rose—unseen at first, but impossible to ignore.

A sigh escapes your lips before you ask, softer this time, “What do you actually like? Not what you show off to others—what do you really like? Or hate? Your friends? Your favorite flowers?”

Reo pauses, tilting his head in thought. Seconds tick by. Thirty. Forty. A whole minute.

Finally, he exhales, a small frown tugging at his lips. “…I don’t know.”

You blink, caught off guard by the quiet admission. But you get it. His whole life has been a performance, shaped by expectations, by a lie he never really chose.

“Well,” you murmur, leaning forward just a bit. “Don’t you like soccer? Tell me about it.”

“Here, first edition by way.” Reo’s delicate hands extend a book toward you. One that you’ve been dying to read but never could find it but there it was. Just another item placed around in the 50,000 book—or maybe more, library in the Mikage house— or whatever that building was. How is that a house?

You hesitantly take hold of the book, you’re still spellbound to see it in person, right in front of your two eyes. A star so bright, and full of glitter yet this time it wasn’t out of your hand’s reach. “Is this the only thing you got me?”

“Did you want more?” Reo’s eye light up

“No. You better not have gotten more.”

The hand tucked behind his back slowly reaches out to expose a small keychain and before he could open his mouth in protest you stop him, “ah- no. Why did you even get that?”

“I just..saw it at the store and it reminded me of you.”

“I told you to stop spending things for me, this relationship isn’t even…real” You say softly, avoiding your gaze as you rub the back of your neck

“Well, yes. But our friendship isn’t right?”

It takes a good moment before youre able to gaze into his eyes and respond “It isn’t”

“Oh— and uh dinner with my parents this Friday.” His subject change wasn’t the thing that surprised, it was the fact that it was tomorrow!

“What— wait you didn’t tell me it was this week, I thought we started the Friday dinners next week!”

A chuckle. Just a nervous childish chuckle paired with a cute smile was all you received from Reo as he shy's away. He knew this would make you angry, you weren’t exactly ready to meet one of the richest families on Earth. “Well… They actually found out before I could tell them and then they just arranged to meet you Friday— or tomorrow I guess”

“Reo! I don’t even know what to wear! Have you seen my wardrobe? It’s not Mikage fancy like”

“I like your wardrobe” His happy little smile paved the way through your stress

“But Reo-” His hand softly brushes through yours in reassurance.

“Y/n, I already arranged everything for you. I’ll pick you up at 6 after school, and if you want I’ll pick something out for you to wear. You just need to sit and look pretty and eat. I’m sure the look pretty part is easy for you though.”

The last sigh allowed you to finally breathe normally, stress out the window as Reo continue to rub the sides of your shoulders and soft knuckles. His touch ever so hazy, a kiss of gentle, and melodic “I have practice today so…” Reo stopped mid-thought, gaze lingered, unreadable. He wanted to kiss your cheek a nice goodbye before heading off but he stilled. “I’ll see you tomorrow” His figure began to fade.

As Reo left, there was no point in staying at school any longer. With a sigh, you picked up your feet and headed toward the gates. The sun dimmed down, hueing it’s lucent colors on your radiant skin. Warm, you felt. Just from the touch of it’s lingering kiss, a gift from the Sun was like a gift from Reo. But the moment passed to soon, now it seemed like the dark night had conquered the sky but it didn’t. It was just Yuna.

She looked at you for moment till she started walking, speeding up to avoid you at all cost. “Wait—” it slipped out of your mouth, you’re desprate, hungry, starving—don’t leave. please

She stopped in her tracks the moment she heard your voice, her head turning back to look at you, but her eyes didn’t carry the same look she use to give you.

“I never really liked Nagi…” You try to reason, you could even break down on your knees, bruise it as it may— please, please forgive me.

“Ok..” The shatter on your heart couldn’t get any worse, you knew how angry she was. But did she know how miserable you are. How wretched of the nothing you are without her?

“Yuna—”

“Why are you dating him? Reo. You barely even talked to him, and Naomi and him are soon to be lovers one day.”

“He’s…gracious and caring”

“Is that just another labyrinth lie”

“What— no no it isn’t”

“You’re all a bunch of liars.” Naomi and her personality? Fake. Your and Reo’s relationship, a facade. Her head look down at her feet, avoiding your heavyhearted gaze. One look into your eyes and she’ll give in.

“I don’t want to talk you anymore” And with that, makes Yuna the biggest liar. She loved to talk to you right now. About how she’s having trouble understanding the math assignment, or the new boy on the streets, the spider she saw in the shower, the haircut she’s been wanting to get, but mostly just talk to you. Be with you. But her body takes control of it’s own and wanders away from the very one she die for.

Arriving home after that was nothing more than depressing, all this time you thought Yuna was avoiding you but it hit you the moment you saw her. You were the one avoiding everything, using Reo as a way to function with Yuna gone, pretending like there weren’t nasty gossip about you and Reo and now you have to meet your fake-boyfriend’s parents. Your life is a mess. You wipe away the small tear dripping down your cheek once you heard the door creak open, your mom entered. Gently setting herself next to you. “Is something wrong?”

“No…well…yeah?”

“Is it about your boyfriend? Is he treating you wrong”

You softly chuckle, her motherly humor filling the room’s warmth. Engulfing you with love

“Kinda. Tomorrow I have to go to dinner with his parents.”

“Oh…yeah… I wanted to talk to you about that.” Your mother grew in a deep breath. “I know that the choices I did in my past wasn’t…necessarily good and it can effect you gravely, but never let anyone talk you down on that. You are the greatest gift I can have.” She kiss you on the head, her hand wraps around yours “He must really like you if he’s willing to face the consequences. You know, when I went to school with his parents, they were such bitches.”

“Mom!”

“I know, I know—one dollar in the cussing jar.” She waves a hand dismissively. “But I meant it. If there’s anything bothering you, you’d tell me, right?”

You nod, offering a small smile as she leaves the room.

But the truth is—he wasn’t the problem at all. If anything, he was the reason you were still here, still happy. The weight in your chest wasn’t because of him. It was because of her.

Yuna.

The mess you made, the way things fell apart between you two—it haunted you. How could you ever forgive yourself for what happened? For the hurt you caused?

After she left, it was like the world lost its color. You spent a week drowning in your own thoughts, sinking deeper into something you couldn’t quite escape. The sky stayed gray no matter how many times you looked up, hoping for a change.

But then, when you lifted your head again, it wasn’t Yuna standing there.

It was Reo.

And for the first time in a long while, the sky didn’t seem so gray.

The next morning you’re greeted with a limo, again. Reo exits the car to say hi, but his great smile was already good enough to fill you with warmth. He almost looked like Yuna in a slight moment. “Y/n! Good morning.” He moves to the side to let you in first but quickly stops you, “Are you sure you can come to school, you look sick.” He starts to worry, hands feeling your forehead for any high temperatures, he’s looking around you if any bones or muscles are sore, or if you’re limping. “It’s okay, I’m not sick.” You reassure him, a small laughter leaves your lips as you see him worried so quickly

”Your eyes are really swollen, are you sure?’ He leaned in more close, more worried. His breath making whole contact on the hair on your skin.

“Uh— yeah you know I just got makeup in my eye so…” You try to excuse yourself and look away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“…Were you crying? Was it because of me? If you don’t want to see my parents today I’ll tell them no.”

“No it’s not that… um lets just get in the car and head to school first.” Before you could slip into the limo, his hand lands on your shoulder

“You can tell me if anything is wrong, you’re my friend y/n”

You sigh with a soft smile “Stop worrying and let’s go. We’re gonna be late”

“Late— Oh shoot we need to hurry!”

“You go ahead Nagi, we’ll meet you.” Unhurried, Reo insists his other duo to go first which was quite obvious to you what his intentions was. His heel quickly turns to face you fully, still carrying that angelic smile. “Soo…” He started off slowly, building, rhyming into your ease, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You both start walking towards the school, students in their uniforms, some messy, some neat, some— are something, pass by as you walk with your ‘boyfriend’ and to your measure girls and boys gather around to admire Reo Mikage and the flowers that following behind him as he walks. “Yeah…—well, I don’t know maybe.” Your breath hitched just for a second before saying her name, it felt impossible to say. It felt like you didn’t deserve to say her name for how horrible you were to her. You did lie to her, and you still are by playing around with the Mikage boy. “I spoke to Yuna yesterday.” Your voice steady, soft, and low. Eyes on the ground, avoidant on everything around you even the pink petals following on your shoulders and the thins between your hair. You couldn’t see but Reo’s attention shifted all upon you, and only you.

“Oh…” Reo softly caresses the side of your shoulder “I know it seems hard…I mean you’re going to meet my parents today, and you’re arguing with Yuna, but you’re never alone. You have your mom, whose nice and always seems like the type to fight for you. And you have….me. So cry or don’t cry, whatever happens from now on. I’m here.” You crane your neck up, embracing all the details of his beauty. He looked more dreamy up close. The soft pads of his thumb caress your dumpling cheek, wiping away your tear. You start to tear up even more, your nose speeding it’s way to breathe. Reo starts to panic, his eyes widen in fear Did I say something wrong?!—Was I too insensitive? Gah, I’m so stupid!

“Y—y/n! Is—is it because of me? I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry—” He quickly hugs you, comforting your head in his chest as you sob. His hand swaying back and forth in the locks of your hair. His touch smooth and caring. His other arm wrapped around you, feeling evermore secure then ever. “I’m sorry…”

Oh, and let’s not forget the crowd. Yeah, they’re still here—watching, wide-eyed, as you and Reo share what might just be the most intimate moment of your life. Their gasps are barely audible, breaths hitched in awe, eyes locked onto the quiet intimacy unfolding in the middle of the field. The world around you feels like it’s slowing down, wrapped in the warmth of his touch, his words, him. And yet, the weight in your chest lingers.

The longest seven minutes of your life. That’s how it felt—wrapped in Reo’s warm embrace, his hand smoothing over your hair as if trying to silence every unspoken fear inside you. Your breath steadies, the tear-stained ache in your chest easing, and yet… he doesn’t let go. Even with the crowd long gone, leaving only the two of you beneath the gentle breeze of the afternoon, he still holds you. "Reo…” Your voice is quiet, but it’s enough to make him straighten, body instantly attentive, as if ready to spring into action at your every word. You hear the nervous gulp in his throat. "Yes?" His response is soft, cautious. You take a breath. "Thank you. Sorry I’ve been a whole mess lately." Reo scoffs playfully, his grip around you not loosening. "It’s no problem," he mumbles, barely above a whisper, like he’s scared his words might make you crumble again. For a moment, there’s only silence—comfortable, but filled with something else. Something unspoken. Then, Reo gently pulls back just enough to see your face, he brushes your hair out of your face and gazes at you a little too long. “Reo” You say softly again

“Hmm?”

“I think the bell rang already”

“Wh—What already!? We have to hurry before they take attendance”

[charliedawn]

HUNT THE FREAK

Eddie Munson x Teacher!Reader

Part 4

You were grading papers at the bench you had first met Eddie when you felt someone watching you. Glancing up, you found Eddie sitting there in front of you, an easy smirk on his lips and—was that your sandwich ?!

You blinked. “Are you seriously eating my lunch right now, Mister Munson ?”

Eddie took a huge bite, groaning dramatically. “Mmm, man. This ? This is art. You sure you’re in the right profession ? ‘Cause I think you might’ve missed your true calling.”

You stared at him. He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. Finally, you sighed, shaking your head. “If you wanted a sandwich, you could’ve just asked. I would have made two.”

You then looked back down at the papers you were grading and shook your head.

“Oh, I know,” he said through another bite. “But where’s the fun in that ?”

You exhaled, putting down your pen. “Eddie. Why are you really here ?”

He chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Well, I figured since you haven’t ratted me out yet about the drug stuff, you’re either the coolest teacher I’ve ever met or you’re really bad at your job.”

You gave him a deadpan look. He held up his hands and chuckled.

“Kidding ! Kidding. You’re great. Phenomenal, even.”

You arched an eyebrow. “And ?”

He hesitated, tapping his fingers against the table. Then, with an uncharacteristically sheepish look, he muttered, “I might need help with, uh…English, and Philosophy, and Maths…and actually—everything ?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Mister Munson. Are you asking me for tutoring ?”

Eddie groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Don’t make it a whole thing, teach. You don’t have to. Just wanted to shoot my shot…just in case.”

You stared at him for a moment before a slow smile crept onto your face. “Alright, Eddie,” you said, leaning back. “I’ll help you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Wait—really ?”

You nodded. "Yes. How about we start tonight after school ? I will help you with English, Philosophy and History. However, we will need other people to tutor you in scientific subjects and sports."

He raised an eyebrow and a smile extended across his face. "Tonight ? Damn, you really want to get started immediately, huh ? I thought we’d start all that next week or something. And uh…I dunno of any smarty-pants my age who’d wanna help with the nerdy subjects. Definitely no one I know who’s good at sports, though."

You started thinking about it. "…We need someone who is notoriously good at sports. Do you know anyone who might want to help you ? I mean…I would ask Jason, but I am not sure you two are on very good terms."

The mention of Jason immediately made Eddie scoff and roll his eyes. "Yeah, me and the king of Hawkins High ain’t exactly best buddies, so I’d rather not ask him. He’d probably tell me to piss off."

He thought about it for a few seconds, trying to think of someone who could help with sports before he seemed to find a name. "…Maybe Lucas Sinclair ? I’ve seen him play basketball, he’s pretty good—"

You smiled. "Great. And I guess I might ask Mrs. Kelly Schmidt for the scientific subjects. She is retired, but as she is my aunt—I might ask her for her help."

He nodded once, taking note of the names. "Lucas Sinclair, Mrs. Kelly Schmidt. They sound like a good choice. But…I gotta warn you. I’ve probably missed so much stuff that it’s gonna be like starting from scratch. Can’t promise you I’ll learn everythin’ as quickly as you hope. I’m gonna be pretty slow…if you could even call it learning. I doubt I’ll even be able to learn anything at all."

You took his hand. "Mister Munson. You will succeed. I promise."

He had to fight back the urge to smile as you grabbed his hand. The moment felt…weird, but also nice. He’d honestly never had anyone support him so much like you did. He wasn’t used to it, but he kinda…liked it. He nodded at your words, trying to keep his cool. "I sure hope so, teach. I don’t wanna disappoint you."

You smiled. "You won’t."

He wasn’t completely convinced, but your words somewhat reassured him. He wasn’t used to having anyone have such blind optimism towards him. But for some reason, he believed that you’d be right, that he’d actually succeed.

He nodded. "…Alright, I’ll trust you. So…English, Maths and Sports. Those are my worst subjects, anyway."

You nodded and smiled. "So…see you tonight at the library at 5:30 pm, Mister Munson ?"

He smiled back and nodded. “Sure. Library, 5:30. I’ll be there. See ya later, teach.”

You nodded back. "Well, run along now."

“Yeah, yeah, I’m goin’.” He stood up and grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He put down the sandwich to leave, but couldn’t help but turn back around to look at you one last time.

“Hey, teach…”

You looked at him. "Yes, Mister Munson ?"

He hesitated before saying. “I just…wanna say thanks. Y’know, for putting so much effort into all this. Never had a teacher so invested in me and my education like you are. It, uh…it means a lot.”

Your eyes widened slightly before you nodded. "Thank you for your kind words, Mister Munson. I will see you tonight."

He nodded once, a small smile on his face. “Yeah. See you then, teach.”

With that, he finally headed out of the class, disappearing into the hallway. Your eyes followed him until he was out of sight before your smile faltered slightly. You sighed before getting rubbing your eyelids. And just like that, your life at Hawkins High got a whole lot more interesting.

…

That night, at exactly 5:30 PM, you sat at a table in the Hawkins High library, a neat stack of books in front of you. You glanced at the clock, half-expecting Eddie to be late—or not show up at all. But, to your surprise, at 5:29 PM, the library doors swung open, and in strolled Eddie Munson, looking a little out of place but determined.

He dropped his bag onto the chair opposite you, flopping into it dramatically. "Alright, teach. Hit me with your best shot. Let’s see if this brain of mine can actually hold onto something that isn’t song lyrics or D&D rules."

You smiled, handing him a notebook. "Let’s see where you’re at, and then we’ll go from there."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Alright, but if I start crying, you better pretend not to notice."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "No promises, Munson. Now, let’s get started."

And with that, the tutoring sessions began.

“Now, is there anything in particular you’d like to start with ?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I’m failing everything, so it doesn’t matter where we start. It’s all the same.”

There was a flicker of disappointment in your eyes, but you quickly pushed it aside, offering him a reassuring smile.

“That’s perfectly fine. How about we start with English ? You read Of Mice and Men. What did you think ?”

Eddie slumped slightly, considering the question.

“It was…good,” he admitted. “A lot of the fancy writing stuff went over my head, but I liked the story. It was real sad, though—all that stuff with Lennie and…” He trailed off, jaw tightening. “Didn’t like the ending.”

You nodded, leaning forward. “That’s fair. What about it didn’t sit right with you ?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“It just felt hopeless. I know that’s the point, but I hated how it all ended like that. What’s the point of fighting for something if it’s just gonna blow up in your face ?”

You studied him for a moment. “So, you think George and Lennie deserved a happy ending ?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said without hesitation. “They went through all that crap together. They were the only ones who really had each other, y’know ? They deserved better. They didn’t deserve to end like everyone else.”

You caught onto something in his voice—something bitter, something personal. You smiled and tilted your head quizzically at him.

“...Like everyone else ?” you asked gently.

A dry scoff left his lips. “Yeah. ‘Cause let’s be real—how often does anyone actually get a happy ending ? People either fail, get left behind, or end up alone. It’s all just—” He gestured vaguely. “Empty.”

You hadn’t expected the conversation to take such a dark turn, but you could work with that. You knew that Eddie had been raised by his uncle and that it made him lonely to some extent. He thought happy endings didn’t exist—and who could blame him ?

“I don’t think it was about the end,” you said carefully. “I think it was about the dream itself. About hope.”

Eddie frowned. “Hope ?”

He eyed you skeptically, arms tightening over his chest.

“How does hope matter if everything just ends in failure and disappointment ?”

You shook your head.

“Not all dreams end badly,” you said softly. “George’s stories gave Lennie something to hold onto. Something to believe in. And even in the end, George made sure Lennie died thinking about that dream—about their little house, the rabbits, a future where he belonged.”

Eddie’s expression flickered, just for a second, before he masked it again.

“I guess…” he muttered. “Still sucks, though. Would’ve been better if they actually got their happy ending.”

You smiled, though there was sadness in it.

“But would it have felt real ?” you asked. “Steinbeck wrote about people fighting for something, even when the odds were against them. That’s why it resonates with so many people. Because even if their dream didn’t come true, Lennie believed in it until the very end. And that belief made him happy.”

Eddie was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, he huffed a small, reluctant laugh.

“You make it sound way deeper than I did.”

You grinned. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Eddie sat in silence for a moment, mulling it over. A part of him still felt like the whole thing was cruel—like the writer had dangled hope in front of people just to rip it away at the last second. But at the same time…he got what you were saying. And, if he was being honest, you had a point. Lenny died happy. George was sad to have to kill him but…Lenny died happy."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before nodding.

“Yeah…yeah, you’re right, teach. It’s just—” He exhaled sharply. “It’s just sad, y’know ?”

You nodded, your voice soft.

“It is. It’s heartbreaking. But think about it—two men, poor, unemployed, one with a disability, fighting on until the very end because of that dream. That little ranch, the rabbits, that life they believed they could have.” You smiled, though there was sorrow in it. “That’s beautiful.”

Eddie considered that. And, yeah…he couldn’t deny it. George and Lennie had held onto hope for as long as they could, even when the world gave them every reason to let go.

He hesitated, debating whether to say what was on his mind.

“…Miss G ?”

You raised an eyebrow at the nickname but played along. He had already called you that before and you didn’t want to correct him. He seemed to have grown attached to the nickname.

“Yes, Mister Munson ?”

He took a deep breath, suddenly unsure if he even wanted to ask. But the words were already forming, and something about talking to you—someone who actually listened—made him feel like maybe he should.

“Be honest with me, teach…Do you think people can actually make their dreams come true ? Their hopes, their wishes…?” His voice trailed off, eyes dropping to the table. “That it’s not just…y’know…”

You rested your chin on your palm, offering him a small, knowing smile.

“Well…I think it depends. On the person. And the dream.” Your gaze softened. “You do have a dream, don’t you Mister Munson ?”

He nodded, slow and hesitant. It felt strange to even admit it out loud—only his uncle really knew. He never talked about it with anyone else, never gave them the chance to shoot it down. But for some reason, right now…he wanted you to know. He had given you his essay, but maybe talking about it would help.

He swallowed hard, fingers tapping restlessly against the table.

“It—it’s kinda stupid,” he muttered. “Not like it’ll ever actually happen, but…” He took a breath, steeling himself. “I wanna make it big. Be a star. Play to sold-out crowds, have people actually pay to see me. And my band—Corroded Coffin.”

The words hung in the air between you. You listen attentively. And for once, Eddie Munson wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear someone else’s opinion—or if he was terrified of it.

You sat in silence for a moment, studying him.

“Do you want my honest opinion, Eddie ?”

His stomach twisted slightly as he nodded, bracing himself. He fully expected you to laugh, to tell him it was a foolish dream, that guys like him didn’t make it out of places like Hawkins. But then you smiled.

“I believe you’ll make it. I believe you’ll graduate. I believe you’ll leave Hawkins. And I believe I’ll be holding the very first ticket to Corroded Coffin’s first real concert.”

Eddie’s heart nearly stopped. Of all the responses he’d imagined, that one hadn’t even crossed his mind. He stared at you, wide-eyed, struggling to process what you’d just said. For a few seconds, he was completely speechless.

Then, finally, he managed to snap out of it.

“You—wait, what ? Are you serious, teach ?”

You chuckled.

“Did I stutter, Mister Munson ?”

He let out a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, his grin turning sheepish.

“Uh…no, guess you didn’t. But do you really think I can make it ? Really ? With Corroded Coffin?”

Your smile softened.

“Well, I don’t know much about metal—or Corroded Coffin, for that matters—but yes, Eddie. I believe in you. And I believe that, given time, you’re capable of great things.”

Eddie was stunned for a moment before a wide grin crept onto his face. A warm sense of pride swelled in his chest. Someone believing in him—truly, wholeheartedly believing—almost too good to be true. He suddenly wanted to give you a high-five, maybe even a hug, just for saying that. It had been a long, long time since he’d felt this way.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he absentmindedly toyed with one of his rings.

“Damn, teach…if you keep saying stuff like that, I’m gonna start thinking you’re in love with me or somethin’…”

Your amused expression immediately flattened into something unimpressed.

“Mister Munson. Please. Do not be ridiculous. Now, let’s focus back on Of Mice and Men before I start getting gray hair from this.”

Eddie let out another chuckle, nodding.

“Relax, teach, relax…I’m only kiddin’. But yeah, yeah, Of Mice and Men, right…”

He glanced down at his open book, pretending to study it for a few moments before snickering to himself.

“But y’know…I just know you’d look real good with gray hair. I can see it now—” A slow smirk spread across his face as he imagined it: you, years from now, shaking your head at him, strands of gray streaking through your hair, all because of the stress of helping him graduate.

You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat.

“Mister Munson. Book.”

His grin widened at your reaction, but he nodded, flipping through the pages.

“Right, right, book. Got it…”

You shook your head with a small smile before resuming the lesson. You then went over some key elements for the tests and you explained to him some key moments in history—trying to make him remember the dates and the places. He took notes and smiled. It wasn’t bad. Once it was over, you stood up, gathering your things.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister Munson. Try to rest. And maybe—maybe—attend all your classes ?”

Eddie stood as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Yeah, yeah, fine. No promises, though—there’s only so much chemistry a human brain can take in one day, y’know ?”

As he gathered his stuff, he glanced at the door, then back at you. That familiar, mischievous grin returned.

“Hey, teach ?”

You turned as you walked toward the library doors.

“Yes, Mister Munson ?”

He trailed behind, slinging his bag over his shoulder. As you both stepped into the hallway, he leaned down slightly, voice lowering to a playful murmur near your ear.

“Can I ask ya somethin’ real quick ? Just a lil’ thing I wanna know.”

You arched an eyebrow at him and smiled.

“You are full of questions, aren’t you ? Too bad they’re rarely about the curriculum.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, teach…not every question has to be about school.” That signature smirk of his grew as he tilted his head, eyeing you with that teasing glint in his gaze. “This one’s not, by the way. Just one quick question. Pretty please ?”

You sighed, already sensing trouble, but humored him anyway as you both walked down the empty corridor toward the exit.

“One.”

A triumphant grin spread across Eddie’s face as he stepped just a little closer, clearly enjoying this little game.

“Alright then…This one’s real easy. Just a fun little question…”

He paused when you reached the entrance, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, eyes locked onto yours with unmistakable amusement.

“Do you…have a boyfriend, by any chance ? A husband ? Or a girlfriend ? I am not judging if you do. Just…wondering.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, arching an eyebrow as you looked at him. You blinked. That was definitely unexpected. He seemed to sense your discomfort and quickly added.

“Not to be weird or anything but…I was just wondering if you didn’t have a family to take care of ? Wouldn’t want you to miss on fun family bonding time because you’re tutoring lil’ old me, you know ?”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.

"Now…why would you be asking that ? Why do you care, Mister Munson ?"

Eddie shrugged, still leaning lazily against the wall, tilting his head slightly.

“Just…curious.”

With that, he pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer. That ever-present smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze locked onto yours. His hands remained tucked into the pockets of his jacket, but the way he stood—just a little too close for a casual student-teacher conversation.

You let out a hum and placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back.

"…Sorry, Mister Munson. But I am not interested in answering that question. It is of an intimate nature. Ask another one—or remain silent."

He let out a small scoff at the push but didn’t resist, allowing himself to be moved back slightly. He shrugged, though the smirk never left his face.

“Come on, Miss G…”

He stayed quiet for a beat, still standing a little too close, before humming under his breath.

“Fine, fine…one other question, then.”

Then, without warning, he took another step forward, closing the distance between you once more. His eyes darkened slightly, that cocky grin growing as he leaned down, just enough to angle himself over you.

“Do you…have any interest in dating someone younger than you, by any chance ?”

You stared at him for a long moment, unimpressed. No shame whatsoever.

"Mister Munson. That is another inappropriate question. Now, I believe it is time for us to go our separate ways. See you tomorrow, in class." And with that, you turned on your heel and walked out of the school.

Eddie sighed, rocking back on his heels as he watched you go. He supposed he’d have to settle for the small bit of fun he’d managed to squeeze out of the moment. But just before you disappeared from view, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called after you, his voice filled with unhidden amusement.

“Alright, teach ! See ya tomorrow—and sweet dreams !”

You simply raised a hand in a wordless wave, never looking back as you got into your car.

He watched as you drove off, his smirk lingering. A small part of him was annoyed that you hadn’t given him a straight answer. But a bigger part of him ? Yeah. He definitely liked messing with you. Besides, it was just mindless teasing. He knew he had no chance whatsoever. He was just curious. Maybe he’d just have to try again another time to have an answer. Chuckling to himself, Eddie shoved his hands back into his pockets and started walking away.

[muttsupreme]

here to second the sub!roman request 🫡 and yes pls cock headcanons !!

i’ve actually got great news for u guys…i have a little sub roman treat in the office fic upcoming🙂‍↕️which of course i always love a little moment of just sweet roman being a bitch and then just crumbling into you. because you’re beautiful, and he’s such a nothing, he’s a dog at your feet.

now COCK under the cut. and balls. and…general theories with very little support.

i always imagine his dick being about 5 and a half, maybe 6 inches? average length. thick. we know he has a strong, thick corpus spongiosum on the underside (from certain canon pics ahem) and a pretty mauve tip. but i think when his cock’s soft, it’s probably a little darker due to his pale skin, maybe a tanned brownish? likely veiny if his forehead tells us anything. probably leaks a lot, just drips the second he feels your skin on him, his balls aching already.

and it’s already known he has psychosexual dysfunction in his own way. prone to lose the occasional erection — but that won’t stop you from sucking him hard, right? it’s a temporary problem that you intend on solving. and cumming too quick is a gift in itself, like he’s begging to be overstimmed. and he takes it, even when he’s the one in control, he keeps on at it and just drools on you.

you’ll coo endlessly: “nice and easy does it”, “good boy”, “keep it going”, “sweet thing”, “you got it, there we go”, “you’re alright, i’m here”, “hey, look at me”. and he’s gross, he’s repulsive in return. “gonna fucking — drain my balls”, “fuck you, so tight, don’t you ever use a fuckin’ dildo or something?”, “stop squeezing or i’m gonna blow my load too quick”, “shh-sh-sh, let’s-let’s not moan right now, okay? too much, can’t keep on keepin’ on if you sound like a pornstar”.

i like to think he cums quite a bit. i mean, the wasted window load wasn’t small. so, with you, in you, i think it would be that nice amount where he’d be able to push it back in with his fingers, maybe just stay in you, use you as a cock warmer. make a joke about how you’re a cream-filled donut? it’s a lazy comparison.

don’t get me started on his balls. i’m just kind of a freak in general with all that shit, so i just can’t leave them out, sorry. they’re nice and full and tight, hair usually kept trimmed nice and neat (not that you don’t go feral for when he forgets to trim). they’re pretty even, and like his tip, tinged a little darker than his pale skin.

he’d never really had them sucked before you. maybe cupped, held? but you asked to test your little theory, and yeah, of course he’s gonna let you suck his nuts, whatever, have at ‘em. so you do, casually, one evening on the couch, as Pierrot le Fou plays so quietly in the background on the flatscreen that it’s drowned out by his whining in a matter of minutes.

but yeah. i 🩷 romancock. truly, madly, deeply. i think about it day and night.