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leviathanspain · 11 months

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hi 🖤 idk if this is a good request? lol but i’d really like to read the ways carmen prefers to be with reader than claire/noticing she’s THE one and not the other way round, maybe there was a little bit of an overlap??? not necessarily cheating but- and how sugar or richie or syd notice that they are endgame

i wanna be yours

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: enemies to lovers, carmy likes the attitude he’s developed when he’s around you, far more than being with his girlfriend

part 2

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you knew he didn’t like you.

richie had hired you, after you had walked in with a pile of resumes, dropping off five copies of yours before walking off. he didn’t even get a word in, admiring your style of exiting instead.

he had called you not even an hour later and asked when you could start.

and here you were, a week into waitressing at the bear.

it was supposed to be this prestigious new restaurant opened by some hotshot chef. but you couldn’t be quite sure, chicago had just recently become your home. but quickly you learned the dynamics, except for him, who wouldn’t look you in the eye, let alone talk to him.

“y/n!” richie slammed a hand on the door, swinging it open, “third time calling, where is she?” he looked around in the kitchen, eyes searching for you.

richie looked at carm, who was just finishing a conversation with sydney, “yo cousin! have you seen your employee? her shift started twenty minutes ago!” his shouts drew eyes from the rest of the kitchen staff and carmy turned, sighing slightly as he walked up to richie.

“she’s your employee, cousin. you hired her, you deal with it.” his lip twitched up slightly and richie sighed, throwing his hands up, “it’s shot to hell, all of it!” he slammed another hand on the door and back to the front of house.

suddenly, you barreled through the kitchen’s back door, a bag on your shoulder, impossibly stuffed with belongings as you hurried to the locker room. carmy sighed with annoyance upon seeing you. he turned back around and tried to find something to busy himself with.

“hey boss,” you looked at carmy, who didn’t look up from his cutting, “sorry i’m late there was some-“ you had prepared an excuse! carmy didn’t say anything just shook his head, “don’t wanna hear it, go talk to richie.”

you felt your cheeks burn red with embarrassment as you bowed your head, shuffling past him and out of the kitchen.

“fucking finally! i was beginning to think you thought this shit was optional.” richie spat, throwing a towel at you, “start wiping down the tables for dinner.” you sighed, taking the towel off your chest, where it landed and stuck, and threw it onto a table.

for a moment, you watched as you wiped the table, before looking over at richie, who had his brows furrowed over the cash drawer.

“why does he hate me?” you had an arm on the counter, lips pouted slightly.

richie sighed, knowing exactly who you were asking about. “carmy’s just carmy.” you groaned loudly, “that’s all anyone ever says. it’s just an excuse for him to act like an asshole.”

richie shrugged, “that’s all i got. forget about it and just keep scrubbing, we don’t pay you for nothing, sweetie.”

you blew a breath out, doing just as he said.

“can you please tell carmy that i need friday off?” you hung onto richie’s arm, pulling him as he tried to run away from you earlier. you had been talking his ear off all day about your trip, and how you’ve been needing this.

richie pulled his arm back and held his hands up, “i’ll see what i can do. no promises though, friday night and it’s just me and you up here? we’ll see.” he tried to be realistic in a nice way, although he knew there was no way in hell you’d be able to get that day off.

“we’ll see isn’t good enough, rich. i really, really need this.” you had clasped your hands together to further express your desperation, and richie groaned, “ask him yourself then! im sick of having to be the bridge between you two.”

you blinked, “maybe if i knew why carmy hated me, then maybe i’d do something about it. but fine!” you walked over to the kitchen door, pushing it open. inside, you found the kitchen staff cleaning up. you refreshed your greeting with them before asking about carmy. sydney had directed you to the office, where only a dim light was the indicator that he was in there.

it took you a moment to build up the courage to knock, but the door swung open before your hand even reached it. carmy stood there, nostrils flared as if he had just taken a deep breathe, redness around his eyes, exhibiting his exhaustion.

there was genuine surprise on his face to see you, and you had to withhold a breath, “hey boss.” his blue eyes locked onto yours for a mere second before they floated away, resting somewhere on the wall behind you.

“what’s up?” his voice raised the question and you nodded, “right- i already talked to richie and he told me to ask you, and i don’t know if you’ll even say yes-“

“get to the point.” of course, you should’ve known by his fingers tapping against the door that he was getting impatient. he was important, and constantly busy, he didn’t have time for you or-

“i need friday off.” you breathed, feeling the release of your tension in your shoulders. you almost heaved just as he answered, unsure of what he would say.

“yeah, i guess that’s fine.” he shrugged slightly before clearing his throat. he closed his eyes slightly as your face lit up, “really? thank you, boss. i-“

“can i get past?” carmy interrupted your words and stared at the door, your body halfway covering it. “yeah- of course.” you scooted further into the office as carmy pulled on the doorknob. you felt the edge of the door tap your back, and you shuddered as it swung back and slammed as he left.

blowing out a breathe, you opened the door, eyes accidentally catching carmy’s, who was standing near the kitchen door. you looked away first, still reeling from the interaction in the office. as much grace as you’ve been giving him, it was getting exhausting having to hold yourself back.

“why is he so-“ you struggled for the words to describe your boss, especially to richie. you were frustrated, carmy’s constant dismissal of you, even when you were asking for something that would affect him and his workday, he didn’t care!

“y/n, it’s just cousin. he’s harmless, don’t worry about anything. you got the day off?” richie turned to look at you, your mouth still in a pout, but you nodded nonetheless, “yeah i did.”

“that’s good! just be happy you got it off, hmm?” he tried to be a mediator, tried to be nice and hear you out, but after hearing the two of you express your anguish over the other, day after day, he was getting sick of it. “why’d you ask for it off again? i thought you didn’t have a life.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you stared at the ground for a moment, “that’s true. it’s my father’s- was, my father’s birthday.” you laughed slightly, pausing before speaking again, “he grew up here, going to the local theater with his father for his birthday every year. we’d make family trips every year to come back to chicago, watch movies with him in the same theater and share a slice of cake. after he passed, my sister and i were the only ones who did it for a while, but then she got married and suddenly, it was just me.” you shrugged, “and then i moved to chicago permanently, into the same house that my father lived in. and i got a job here.” you smiled weakly, “yeah.”

richie nodded, “yeah.” matching your tone of voice. he didn’t want to speak, letting himself sit with that. you were nice enough, a good kid, and he saw something in you, a little spark just wanting to be ignited fully. he didn’t know what it would take, but it seemed like you didn’t either.

carmy hadn’t realized that he had eavesdropped the entire conversation between you and richie until richie came into the kitchen, slamming the door against carmy, who had stood there, frozen, captivated by your story.

“cousin- get the hell out of the way!” richie barely glanced at carmy, too in a rush to even think to slow down.

carmy looked down at the door as he pushed the door open, out into the dining room. he looked up to see you wiping down the counters. you had a wet rag under your hand, and you were lost in thought as your hand moved in a circular, repetitive motion. you didn’t even notice him as he inched closer, unsure of what he was going to say when you noticed him.

“hey.” carmy realized he was speaking, and as you looked up, your attention. you couldn’t help but smile, this was the first time that you had seen him so still, and so in thought.

“hey.” you returned his greeting, letting the rag go, you turned your full attention to him. he laughed nervously and that made you smile even more. it was odd, how he changed so suddenly with you.

you raised an eyebrow, “is there something wrong?” he hadn’t said anything else, just staring in thought.

he shook his head, and returned himself to the kitchen.

“weird.” you exhaled, watching as the door swung shut behind him. how could carmy go from being the biggest asshole to you, to randomly greeting you then going silent.

you’d talk to richie about it later, but for now you had work to finish.

“claire.” carmy looked surprised to see his girlfriend. it was friday, and normally she stopped by on saturdays. “i thought you worked on fridays.” he pulled her into the office and claire shrugged, “i got off early, just to come see you.”

carmy nodded, “yeah. yeah.” claire raised an eyebrow at him, “i cant leave early tho. y/n asked for the day off and i didn’t realize how much she does so-“ he cut himself off watching as claire’s expression soured slightly.

carmy sighed, “i know- but i’m her boss, im going to have to talk to her eventually.” claire rolled her eyes, “god, i-“ she cut herself off and stood up, “that’s fine, carmen. i understand, really.” her tone sounded irritated as she opened the door. carmy found himself standing to rush after her, but stopped himself.

had he really made a judgement on you based on an experience claire had with you in grade school? so far, you hadn’t mentioned claire to be someone of the past, and carmy had wondered why.

carmy blinked, suddenly getting the urge to rush after claire. but as she walked right out the front door, carmy realized that he had been too late. normally, the guilt would set right in, but as he stared out into the dining room, he could imagine you standing at the counter, eyes shying away from his.

saturday had been a rough start for you. you had spent the whole night before, sobbing at the movie theater. your eyes had puffed up so much that you had to go home, barely able to see the movie through your tears. this time of year was rough for you, especially since your family hardly called. your father had been the glue to hold all your differences together, but it seemed not to have a lasting affect.

when you had arrived late to work, yet again, you had expected carmy to give you the silent treatment, or possibly even yell, but he hadn’t said anything.

except,

“i’m sorry about your dad.” he had looked down at the floor when he said it. you stared at him, shocked that he said anything to you besides the usual, and that he knew about your father.

“how long as it been?” more. he was talking more to you, “uhh-“ you couldn’t contain yourself, “two years. but it feels like-“

“yesterday. yeah i know.” he finished your sentence. “i lost my dad too. a while ago.” he shook his head, as if shaking the feeling that came along with it.

you nodded, holding a small smile that carmy had actually made conversation with you.

“thank you. and im sorry for your loss as well.” you brushed past him, still reeling.

months passed, changing things with time, including carmen.

not only had he become a better boss, but you could consider him a friend. transitioning to kitchen staff had made that happen, including moments that made you think of him as more.

there was no doubt of the chemistry you had with him. everyone noticed it, and sydney had half the mind to encourage it.

“you work so well together! he needs something and you’re there with it! it’s actually insane, like did you guys come from the same planet?” her voice got a little high as she rambled on and you laughed, “what planet would that be, syd?”

she shrugged, “something of greatness. i mean, he’s even said it himself-“

you held up a hand, ending her little ramble right then and there, “sydney. i am not anything like the world renowned chef that runs this place. im not even a sous! i was waiting tables just a month ago.” your hand pointed out to the dining room and sydney threw her hands up, “that’s exactly my point!”

you rolled your eyes, “please stop.” you couldn’t hear her anymore, not while carmy was just minutes from rounding the corner.

“want one?” carmy had noticed you were gone. the rush was starting to slow and you had decided to take a break, not knowing he would follow. there was a cigarette hanging in his mouth glumly, a lighter being tossed between his hands.

“i don’t really smoke.” you answered earnestly. carmy brought the lighter up to his mouth, taking a moment to light it. he inhaled, and you caught yourself staring at him as he exhaled.

“you don’t really?” he sat down, closer than he probably realized. you turned to look at him, eyes hooding as they focused on his cigarette. “mhm.” you answered, leaning a cheek on your hand.

you were reaching out before you realized, fingers wrapping around the cigarette, pulling it from his mouth and into yours.

carmy watched you with surprised eyes, as you took a long, deep drag. you exhaled it, hand outstretched to return it. he took it, smiling as he chuckled.

“i’m quitting.” you admitted. looking at carmy, waiting for him to react. he didn’t, and you laughed, “did you hear me, carmen?”

carmy took another drag, pulling out the cigarette to flick it against the concrete step, “no you’re not.”

“i am- i already talked to richie and syd-“ you found yourself trying to justify your decision until he raised his voice, “no you’re not! i said no!”

you flinched, not used to having him scream directly in your face. he didn’t need to, and so he never did.

until now.

your ears were still ringing. you had been staring at carmy’s side profile for five minutes, as he stared ahead in silence.

finally, “why not?” the pure shock had kept you quiet, but you had built up emotion, and your voice couldn’t help cracking.

carmy shrugged, “just don’t. just give me time, alright.”

your frustration grew with his vague answer. he was refusing your resignation, and now he was refusing to tell you why?

carmy panted quietly. he had been in the office for more than twenty minutes, watching as he phone buzzed with call after phone call from claire.

he couldn’t pick up, not when his head was full with thoughts of you. he knew it was wrong, he knew that claire should be the only girl on his mind, but she wasn’t and he felt horrible.

he stared at the phone, swallowing thickly as he picked up the phone, opening a desk drawer and tossing it in.

ever since he had found out that you had no idea who his girlfriend was, and that her entire reasoning to dislike you had been a lie, it had strained his relationship. but claire had been close to catching onto his disillusionment, and it seemed like she reached it.

he opened the office door, breathing in deeply as he saw you in the kitchen, eyes red rimmed but still diligently at work.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy angst #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #carmy x y/n #carmy fluff #the bear angst #the bear #the bear smut #the bear fanfiction

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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 years

Text

This night has opened my eyes

Warnings- angst, pure angst, mentions of blood, and sex, Ethan’s a lil insane, SCREAM 6 SPOLIERS

Now Ik most people hate the smiths but I love them

“Mindy was right.” You mumbled quietly, feeling the tears starting to come. He stared at you, and only you.

“Oh, you poor sweet thing. It was so easy to get into your pants, and to get your trust.” He said, with a smile.

-𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬-

“Did you ever love me?”

“Of course I did. I still do. But I have to focus on something… more important.”

“Like what?” You scoffed.

“Avenging my brother.”

-𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧-

After going over what the plan was, and once they started to attack, ethan specifically went after you.

He chased you, you tripped over something and fell down. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you towards him.

-𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝-

He held the knife to your throat, and he enjoyed the tears coming from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. You know, I didn’t want to kill you. I still don’t, but you were there, you helped kill my brother. You helped kill Richie.”

“Yeah I did. And I enjoyed it.” You spat in his face.

His smile faded, and he was furious now. He was just about to slit your throat when all of a sudden something hit him.

-𝐀 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝟐𝟓-

Tara came over and hit him with a brick she randomly found on the ground, he stumbled on top of you for a second and you pushed him off.

You looked at him for a second, before Tara grabbed your hand and you both ran.

Sam tried to help you both up, Tara went up first, and then you did. Ethan chased after you and held a knife under you.

“It was fun sticking something in you,Can’t wait to do it again!“ He yelled.

“Fuck you!”

“We already played that game!” He said, and Tara finally pulled you up.

-𝐎𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬-

“Hey, you know it’s totally okay if you don’t want to do this.” You remembered Ethan saying as he laid you down onto the bed softly and gently.

“No, I want to. Do you want to..?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” He said, with a sweet smile, unlike the sadistic one he had now.

You both had taken it slow. It’s been six months, and constant sexual tension.

“I love you. I love you so much.” You said to him quietly, while you guys kissed.

His breath stopped for a moment, he panicked a bit before saying it back. “I love you too.”

-𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥-

He promised to protect you, and that he’d always love you.

But trying to kill you didn’t feel like love.

#Spotify #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x reader #ethan landry angst

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n and I welcome you to a part five. Five? I genuinely wasn't expecting this to turn into a series but look at us. Love this story to bits. But it wouldn't be here without all of you so thank you and enjoy!✨🤍

warning: shouting, swearing, fighting, mental health issues, panic attacks, past trauma.

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That day, Carmen had waited for you to show up, and the restaurant was decked out. Well, deked out in that shit hold meant a clean tablecloth, a couple of candles that he had found in the basement, and a nice warm meal he had made—the one you loved the most, the one that always, without fail, brought a smile to your face. Because right next to the fear of failing Mikey was the fear of failing you. He knew that he hadn't been himself. There was so much in his head that, at times, Carmy felt that there was someone there talking back at him. But then you would show up—or not even that. When the images from the past were crushing him, all Carmy needed was to see you. That was all, and suddenly he could breathe again. No one was screaming around him or at him.

"You're jittering like a little bitch", Richie had stepped out for a smoke when he found Carmen nearly bouncing like an atom from side to side in the back alley, as if he was trying to create friction for an explanation. The kid was a mess. Always a mess. But then he would go home or you would show up, and it's like a reset button would be pressed. "Fuck off", Carmen hissed at him, pulling out his phone for what felt like a million times and quickly glancing down the street. "What's going on, Carm?" Richie's voice was almost soothing. As if he had given up on the shit he usually did. As if he felt that this might be lethal. Might change something. Might lead to some absolute chaos.

Carmy let out a frustrated sigh, "She's not here... Should have been here thirty minutes ago... She... she should", running his hand through his hair in hopes of pushing the messy curls away from his face, Carmen pressed the call ID once more. "Your girl?", Richie asked, and Carmen just nodded. Cursing once the line went dead. His hand ran over his chest. You'd always tell him to take a deep breath and then exhale in three. A shiver ran down his back as he could almost just make out your voice telling him that.

Richie's video pierced the silence, "Has she been okay?", had Carmen always wanted to punch Richie, or was this a sensation that only bloomed now? Was he trying to tell Carmy that he had missed something? That he missed something, but Richie didn't. "No, she has not fucked been okay, okay?", Carmen spat, moving to walk again, shaking his hands as the light needles started to pinch the very tips. "She's been upset; she wakes up screaming; she pukes most nights; she...", he blurred you. And now all he could see was you. You all pale by the toilet. You holding back tears. You pushing him away only to hold onto him so tight that Carmy could barely breathe. The spark that Carmen loved so much within you was fading. You weren't you, and he just let that be. Let you self-sabotage.

"One day", you had told him the first time you had woken up screaming, drenched in sweat, "I'll tell you, just not now". And what ripped at Carmy the most was that those dreams had stopped. Not immediately, but they did, and you slept through the night perfectly. And you had told him that it was because he was there holding you. Because you felt safe. Carmy made someone feel safe, and now... you didn't? You were screaming again.

"Fuck", Carmen barked, kicking the trash can, clenching his first up so that he wouldn't yank it over. "I called her", and Carmy almost missed that because Richie's voice was barely a whisper. "What?", Carmen turned to him, stepping closer. Richie throws his cigarette to the ground. "That night after the... when she cut her hand... I just", the man admitted, and for the first time, Carmy was seeing emotions that he hadn't seen before in his face. "Richie, what the fuck are you talking about?", Carmy said, still confused, "I called her because I..", Richie stopped, running his hand over his mouth, "I called her a burden from New York and told some pretty shit...", "You fucking what?", now Carmy was all up in Richie's face, and the sheer anger in his blue eyes...

"I called to apologize, cousin", "Have you been giving her shit this whole time?", Carmen was a step away from ripping at Richie's shirt. Because fuck, does it all make sense now? "Carmy", Richie pleaded, "Have you been giving her shit, you son of a bitch?", now his fingers were gripping the material of the beef shirt, wanking at it and ripping the fabric apart. Shouting shit. Carmen didn't even understand himself until his knuckles came in contact with the cold wall, and he realized he had missed Richie's face.

Carmen was calling your phone over and over again as he made his way back. He ignored the street signs and the red stop lights. They could all fuck themselves. You were going to be there. You were. You didn't make it to the restaurant because you got lost in unpacking. Yeah, that's what it was. And you... And he was going to apologize. Crowl to you if he had to. How did he manage to miss Richie giving you shit and eating at you? Carmy left his car half on the street as he ran towards the door. Skipping every other step as he rushed to your floor. Heart beat faster and faster with every step as the number of doors changed.

Carmen wasn't sure what he was truly expecting, but it sure wasn't to see Claire sitting in the living room, flipping through some of your art books. Carmen had to blink a couple of times because this couldn't be true, right? She smiled at him the moment her eyes landed on Carmen, but he only looked at her as if she was a dead body walking. "What... why are you here?", Carmen stuttered, shaking his head as Claire stepped closer to him. "I wanted to surprise you. You didn't answer any of my calls and..."

But he doesn't even let her finish as he turns away from her shouting, "Y/N, Y/N!" Carmen yanked the bedroom door open, nearly tripping over one of his shoes that was thrown across the room. It was a mess. The drawer that held your day-to-day clothes was empty. The hoodie—his hoodie—that you had worn when Carmy left a couple of hours ago was thrown to the floor carelessly. "Fuck no, Y/N!", Carmen rushed to the bathroom, but there was nothing there. A messy sink opened up cabinets.

"What did you say? What did you say?", he turned back around because he could feel Claire following him all of this time. "Carmen, she moved out. Didn't you know?", she said in such a soft voice that made Carmen want to vomit. "Moved... What? What? No...", his brain felt like it was overheating. You can't be moving out. No, you wouldn't. You...

"Your roommate", Claire said, and Carmy had lost the last piece of coolness he had. "What fucking roommate, Claire?", he barked out, making the woman step back slightly. "What roommate? That was my fucking girlfriend", he spat out. Claire looked at him with big eyes. Eyes that were almost glistening with tears but that didn't pull a single string in Carmy's heart. His world was crumbling there and then. Right at this moment. It was slipping through his fingers.

"I'll love you forever", Carmy had whispered one night. You were pressed against his naked chest, running your fingers over his tattoos. You hadn't been talking for some time. The comforting silence was more than enough. Your naked frame was so close to his that it felt like you were seeping into his skin, and Carmy never wanted that feeling to fade. "You don't believe in forevers", you muttered, pressing a light kiss to his chest before your eyes met his, and Carmen needed to do a double inhale because the share beauty of you was so raw, so real, so here, so his, and so unimaginably gorgeous, right here in his arms. He had managed to find you. Someone who understood. Someone who was okay with his shit. Someone who saw him whole and didn't turn away. Someone willing to embrace him even with all the trauma and scars that were still hurting. "I believe in a forever with you", Carmy had whispered, and the way your eyes had sparked. Carmy had never seen eyes shine so brightly before, and he had ignited them. He only hoped that you saw the way you were healing him too.

"Fuck", Carmen said, nearly collapsing to the floor when the ringing sound faded, and he could hear something on the other end. "Thank you, thank you; Where are you?", he muttered, starting to pace once again. But there was no answer. Carmy pulled the phone away from his ear, watching the seconds running on his screen. You had answered; he wasn't imagining it. "Y/N, baby, where are you?", Carmy begged. He had no right to; he knew that, but he still did.

"The other girlfriend didn't pick up her phone this time?", you asked so bitterly that the blood in Carmy's body had frozen as he fell silent. "There's no other...", Carmy barely whispered, and you let out a bitter laugh while still sniffing. "She walked into our home, Carmen, OUR home! Shinning like a fucking Christmas tree", the words felt like venom. Stinging. Poisonous. Raw. Your breathing was uneven.

"I'm not...", he rasped out once more, not sure how or what to say when someone honked in the background of your call, "Are you fucking driving? Get out of the car! Stop the car", he raised his voice instantly. You were going to die. Crash the car. Drive into someone. Not stop in time. Like Mikey, you were going to rip the last good thing out of him and leave him alone in this shity world. But it's like you weren't even listening to him. "I saw the messages", a cry left your lips, "You fucking shit". Carmen fell numb at that. His eyes raised to meet a lost-looking Claire, who was still there, standing a handful of steps away from him.

"How long, huh? Was I not good enough?", your voice pierced Carmy's mind. Now. Only now did he realize how this looked. What he's been doing What he's been putting you through because he was selfish. A selfie piece of shit because he was holding onto something. Like a kid too scared to give up a pacifier. "Speak, you fucking ass, own up to it", you said in a loud voice. He could feel your pain now. Almos heard every single tear that was slipping down your cheeks. "She's the only good fucking thing from my past, okay? My family—all of them loved her; she—everyone wanted her. She made me feel stable like it's... but... but I'm not", Carmen didn't get to finish his words as the most painful sob rang out. Somehow even more painful than the night he held you in the bathroom. Just that night, he didn't know what had caused it; now it was him. All of this was on him.

"Fuck you, Camen, fuck you", you crocked out. "No, listen, let me..." he pleaded, but you were having none of it. "Be happy with her then. Fucking thrive!", you spat with an angry rasp, yelling at someone for cutting in front of you, leaving Carmy to cringe at the thought of you crashing the car once more. "No, listen, you're not listening", he tried much softer now. He wasn't sure what to do. How was he going to find you? Should he go to his car? Drive around? Make a false call to the police? What the fuck was he supposed to do?

"No, you fucking listen! I gave you everything. I gave up everything for you fucking...", another sob slipped past your lisp, and Carmen could hear the car speeding up with every word you said, "I did everything for you, and you do this after everything? You have no heart, you asshole!". Carmen felt tears slipping down his cheeks; his throat was tight, and his chest heavy. But he was fighting every single thought that was telling him this was it. He couldn't. He didn't know how to function without you. You were the thing holding him together. He couldn't...

"I love you; come back, yeah? We will figure this out", he pleaded again, gripping the phone so tightly in his hand and ripping at the roots of his hair with the other. The silence fell for a moment. For a moment, a flicker of hope ignited. You heard him, yeah. You will be back soon. Carmen will explain it all. He will make it better. He will save this. He will get you back. You will be there, and his heart won't explode. "Fuck you! Now you can get rid of your New York burden forever", the words washed over him like a wave. Like a wave, you weren't expecting to crash over you. Like something had wrapped itself around your leg and yanked you under. "No, Y/N, no, hey", Carmen said, but the line went dead. The beeping filled his ears. And for a second, Carmen thought that was the monitor telling him, well, pal, your heart just stopped. You've died. In approximately less than a minute, your body won't have enough oxygen. Your brain will die, and you will be gone.

With shaky hands, Carmy dialed your number again and again and again and again, and it went straight to your voicemail. "No, fuck", he tried once more, hoping and praying to whatever god he believed in. You couldn't walk away. He needed you. He couldn't do this without you. "Pick up, pick the fucking...Fuck", Carmen yelled, throwing the phone at the wall. Screaming at the top of his lungs as he watches the light pieces scattered across the floor.

"Carmy", his name, made him want to vomit as he turned his head to the side. "Get the fuck out", he roared, pointing his finger to the door. "Carmen, baby", Claire pleaded, daring to step closer but regretting that decision straight away when Carmy's hands gripped her upper arm painfully tight. "Im not your fucking baby!", he roared, making her shiver. He wasn't seen clearly. He wasn't seeing at all. Solid colors only. The drumming in his ears was so painful that he wanted to rip his head open and make it stop. "Carm", Claire pleaded, trying to touch his cheek, but he stopped her palm midway before shoving her close to the door. "Get the fuck out, or I throw you out the window".

Carmen doesn't remember when or how she left. The static in the room was driving him insane. He walked aimlessly around the apartment. He choked for air. He shouted your name. He shouted for help. Clawing with his fingers at his throat because he couldn't... there was no air. Nothing. He hit his head a couple of times with his hands, aimlessly turning around and searching. Searching for you. But you weren't here. You will not be here. Never will be here. He wasn't sure how long he trashed the place, throwing things around.

Carmy only remembered popping two pills in his mouth. He remembered digging through the drawers. Looking for any piece of clothing that belonged to you. He remembered crawling into bed still fully clothed, shoes on, jacket on. Pressing your shirt closer to his chest, breathing in the scent of you. Shutting his eyes as tightly as possible, trying to imagine you here. You're just in the bathroom. You will come back soon. You will lie beside him. You will go back to bed. He could sleep now. He would not be alone. He was alone.

"Look at me", he gripped your chin firmly, "Say it again and fucking mean it". You were trembling. Jittering to get away. To push back, but that only earned you a firmer grip. "I'm no one. Will never be enough", you whispered, trying to hold onto his wrist so he wouldn't shatter your neck. "And?", he shook your whole body with the yank of his hand. There were going to be bruises tomorrow. "And I should be thankful that you are here with me and that you spare me your time", you muttered, a sickly smirk spreading across his face. "Exactly, you worthless piece of shit."

Your body jerked up only to be met by the firm press of someone's palm pushing into your chest, making you let out a scream in return. A scream that was met with touche down your back and a feeling of a warm embrace. A calm heartbeat. Steady. Familiar. You felt stuffy and warm. Sticky from the sweat your shirt was soaked in. Clinging to your body. Feeling like the hands that gripped you in your sleep. You quickly moved to pull at it, trying to free yourself from that dirty feeling. To let your body be free. Scratch that uncomfortable, sick feeling. You dropped the damp material away, clenching your fingers at the still-lingering sweat there that you wanted off.

Then you remembered the feeling of someone's hands that still lingered, jerking away and nearly falling from the bed. Only to be met with the same arms holding onto you. And you let them guide you into that same warmth. Your damp skin presses against the soft skin. "You're in Copenhagen, not London", the voice said. That deep, calm, soothing voice rang in your ear, and your fingers instantly curled around the biceps. Before moving to graze his side, holding, savoring, and grounding, "I've got you, bunny".

The air was much crisper here. Mornings so much calmer. No one cursed in the streets. No one shouted. Everyone, even the people you didn't know, greeted you with a quick hello as they passed you with their bikes. Your mind was as scrambled, if not more so, as the day you came here. How you managed to find, sit, and navigate your way here was beyond you. Because you weren't here. Mentally, you felt dead. Drained to the point where you cried for the first 48 hours here. Then sleep for approximately the same time. Nothing made sense anymore. The gaping, black, bleeding hole in your chest ached without any signs of stopping anytime soon.

"Hi", you muttered, stepping into the much warmer building and enveloping in the smells that made your stomach growl. The guy in front of you smiled, "At the back, you know it", he pointed towards the back room. "Thank you, Chris", you smiled at him softly, tugging at your scarf as you walked past the front desk. The kitchen was silent. Someone was humming, and you could hear a light tune of music coming from someone's headphones.

The blue eyes caught your gaze almost immediately. Dropping a piece of dough onto the table before whipping his hand on his apron. "Finish up in here, chefs. I'll be back in a few", his voice was firm. But so much calmer. Straight. Strong but calm. Maybe it was his self-esteem that made every sound that came out of his mouth undeniably soothing.

"Hey, bunny", Luca said, his hands wrapped around you, with you two still standing in the middle of the kitchen. You buried your face in his chest. Breathing in his cologne. "Hi, do you have a minute?", you tilted your head up at him. Sometimes you forgot the height difference between the two of you. The way he towed over you. If you wanted to reach his shoulders, you would have to stand on your tippy toes. It's hard to imagine that, at some point, you used to be higher than him. Until puberty hit and the roles were reversed. "For you always", he said with a light kiss on your forehead as he guided you out the back.

That's what it was. Luca was the polar opposite of Carmen. Where Carmen's anxiety only edged you, Luca was a wall of steel, calm, and inner peace. Making a perfect shelter for your anxiety and fears. "Did you manage to sleep at all after I left?", Luca asked, handing you a freshly baked rabarberhorn that you didn't even notice him picking up as you walked out. Tears welled in your eyes as you held on to the still-warm baked good.

"Hey, what's this all about, huh?", Luca tilted your head up softly at the sight of the tears, pulling the little outdoor chair you had sat on closer to him. "You're too fucking good to me", you muttered, watching his strong gaze. Luca let out a sigh, leaning closer to you, "I promised to always be there, didn't I?", "You could just walk away and trick me and...", his palm cupped your cheek. "We went over this many times. I'm not them, and you're worth it," he said as you leaned in and pressed your forehead against his. Letting the fog in your brain ease up slowly. Luca ordered you to eat up shortly, muttering something about how he added extra rhubarb and marzipan just for you and that you shouldn't tell anyone about that because he might get a line of unhappy customers.

Luca lit up a cigarette, offering it to you after a couple of drags. "Did he call?", the question stiffened your bones, but you knew that, in a way, you still owed him a full story of what happened. I mean, you just showed up at his house, snot running down your nose, eyes as red as if you were smoking weed for the past week." Called, texted, left voicemails, sent an email, even", you let a warm inhaler ripple through your system. Welcoming the sensation before puffing out a cloud of smoke. "I didn't reply to any of it", you chuckled lightly, "yet I tell myself that I don't care, but I... I stop and shiver constantly at the thought of something happening to him. I would be the one to blame if he..."

Luka shook his head, taking the cigarette from your fingers. "A, it's good that you haven't, and B, you wouldn't be". You wanted to argue back, but the look in Luca's eyes was clear enough. He wouldn't back away until you agreed, so you dropped it. "Well, if not that, then I feel guilty for leaving Sydney and Marcus there; I care about them", you picked at the side of the pastry, not lifting your gaze up. "Don't write me off as a dick, bunny but..,", Luca muttered, "You care about them, Carmy included, but who cares about you?"

You wanted to argue about that, but you stopped mid-sentence. There was truth in his voice. Those people were mostly strangers. You weren't meeting up with them. You didn't even have their number, now that you thought about it. Chicago was a ghost town for you. Unfamiliar and cold. They all probably haven't even noticed that you were gone. Was Carmy with Claire now? Maybe she moved in... but in a week?

You stood up quickly, dropping the rabarberhorn on your chair as you motioned for Luca to push his chair further away before you set on his lap, hiding your tears in the crook of his neck. You felt him shaking his head, but he held back on the words that were lingering at the tip of his tongue. Luca's fingers quickly brushed through your hair as he held you close. Just like he had been for the past week.

"Did you tell him about Ezra?", now this question tore through your body as if someone had come up and started skinning you there and then. You knew that Luca was smart. You know that from what you told him, he was putting the dots together. You shook your head just as another wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, and you clenched Luca's blue shirt between your fingers. "Why, bun? That's some serious shit you...", but you cut him off midway, "Because Carmen was staring to remind me of him".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit @chatitajens @azxulaa @hidingfromtex @randomhoex @hopplessdreamer @lostinheavensworld @jackierose902109 @gallaghrh @gabbycoady13 @harrysmatcha @lady-bellyn @lovejoyenjoyer @infinitelycharmed23 @royalestrellas @hanula18 @thoughtfulmoonchild911 @buckys-winter-child there's so many of you here now, my little heart is so happy 🥺🥺🥺

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #luca the bear #chef luca #the bear imagine #the bear x reader #chef luca x reader

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sage-green-matcha · 1 year

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STAB - ETHAN LANDRY 🔪

Billy and Stu? Nah, Y/n and Ethan 😋

Content includes: Bimbo!Reader, sweet gf! Ethan Landry, gf!Reader, mentions of blood, killing, shooting <3

A/n: I love stu sm and I would 100% be that type of gf 🤭

"My mom and dad are gonna be so mad at me!" You cried, holding the stab wound Ethan had done on you.

"Shut up Y/n!...You look good by the way" he mumbled, watching as Sam held a panicked look in her eyes. "This literally sucks! You said we could..." The pain was too much, stopping you in your tracks.

"What? Yea, we can still go on a date, but we have work to do" he sighed, rubbing his temples. "You said this would be fun!" You squirmed, wiping the blood that was seeping out of your slashed shirt.

"This is fun, sweetheart!" You rolled your eyes, taking deep breaths to distract yourself from the pain. "It's not fun! Babe, you literally stabbed me! You said we could just use the fake blood on me!" You groaned.

"It's not believable like that!" He spat, dropping the ghost face mask next to him.

"Are we gonna finish this or what? I can't die! I have a fucking final next week" you cursed, limping over to Ethan.

"Yea, can you still walk?" Ethan asked, placing his hand around your waist. "I'll be fine"

Sam finally broke out of her trance, running towards Tara. To say she was shocked would've been a lie. She basically already knew it was you and Ethan, you two came out of nowhere.

"I got the gun, who do you want me to kill first?"

"Go wild, sweetheart"

His words gave you confidence, bullets being shot as everyone ran. "Got one!" You smiled excitedly, watching as Mindy tumbled to the ground. "Always hated that bitch, talks too much" you mumbled, holding your wound as you looked for the others.

All the doors were locked, the windows were boarded up. There was no way for all of them to escape.

You and Ethan eventually killed off the rest, Sam being the last one. You had shot her in the stomach, waiting for Ethan to finish the job.

"Fucking...pathetic" her words were mumbled, her blood mixing in with the one of her sisters and Highschool friends. "Shut up!" You hit her with your gun, blood spilling from her mouth. "You know I'm...right. He had you kill them because he's too scared"

You glanced at Ethan, his eyebrows furrowed. "Come on babe, show her. Show her you're not scared to fucking kill her!" You yelled, frustration running through your laugh. You kicked her in the ribs, watching as she yelped in pain.

Ethan just stood above her, he had only killed Tara so far. "Are you gonna do it? Your dad would be so proud Eth..." You smiled, his expression changed as you waited, tears falling from Sam's face.

He needed time, time to watch as she suffered the same way his brother did. Richie was never a good role model, not even a good brother. But Ethan knew this would gain him his dad's respect, and that was all he had ever wanted.

"It's okay, I can wait for you" Your glistening doughy eyes made him melt. He had to do this for you too.

He pulled his gun out, his eyes watching carefully as a loud gunshot went off. Sam Carpenter was finally dead. He expected himself to feel better. He thought that the feeling of loneliness would fade with each second that she suffered.

But he felt the same. He felt like a sidekick, he felt useless. And it's not like he even did this in honor of Richie. He didn't do it for himself. He did it for you and his dad.

"So...what do we do now?" You honestly didn't expect to be the first successful ghost face. When you mentioned the idea to Ethan he was on board right away. You guys had only taken the plan this far and now you had no idea what to do.

"I guess we clean up now..."

You cringed at Ethan's words, a frown on your face. "Weren’t we just gonna say we got attacked and were the only ones that survived?"

"Hmm yea, I guess. I didn't do that stab wound on you for nothing. But I will admit, you look really cute limping around”

You rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder as you walked past him. "You're lucky I didn't stab you back.”

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harlowsbby · 2 months

Text

Stick With Me

lil summary, this is a fic based off Jack’s character Scalvo from The Instigators 💓

“Alright yeah, yeah I told you I’ll meet you at the docks later… alright see you soon.” You frowned as Scalvo got off the phone with Richie.

“What does he want?” Scalvo tossed his phone on the other side of the couch before looking down at you. “Well if you must know little miss nosey.” Scalvo flicked the tip of your nose lightly making you laugh.

“He wants me to meet with him tonight along Casey and some new guy I guess his name is Rory.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head at him.

“I thought you were done with Richie and Mr. Besegai I told you they don’t mean you any well and they don’t treat you right.” You quickly removed yourself from his lap and made your way into the kitchen.

“They treat you like shit babe and yet whenever they come knocking you go and answer every single time.” You spat.

Scalvo groaned but nonetheless followed after you because he hated arguing with you and he hated being the reason you were upset.

“I know baby but look I promise this will be my last job with them and I promise after this I’m done.” Scalvo wasn’t necessarily a big softy but when it came to you he was like putty in your hands.

“You said that last time Scalvo.” You snapped causing him to winch at you using his name. Usually you’d call him babe or baby but you never addressed him by his first name unless you were really upset.

You hated that Scalvo worked with Richie and Mr. Besegai you know they were trouble and treated Scalvo like he was less than. You didn’t agree with what Scalvo did for work.

On the other hand you also knew this was the only lifestyle he knew so it was hard for him to just change and cut that all off over night.

“And now you got some new guy coming into your little gang.” He chuckled at the word gang making you glare at him. “It isn’t funny babe I worry about you okay? I promised you we’re done with this shit.”

You knew he’d never be done because working for Richie and Besegai was quick and easy money something Scalvo liked. He figured what was the point of waiting two weeks for a pay check when you can get money in less than 24 hours.

He sighed and made his way around the kitchen island making his way to you. Once he was close enough he leaned his back against the counter and made grabby hands to you.

Signaling he wanted you to come to him which you did.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you leaned forward and rested your head on his chest. His head dipped down a bit so it was resting on top of yours.

“Look babe you don’t have anything to worry about okay? I promise I’ll be safe and after this I’m done with them completely he just needs my help.” You mentally rolled your eyes because you knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

“Fine, but please call me when you’re on the way home yeah? You know I’ll miss you.”

You always had him call you after he did a mission for Richie and Besegai. You just wanted to be able to hear him and to know he was safe.

“I promise I will baby now give me a kiss.” You smiled as you reached up on your tippy toes to give Scalvo a kiss a quick peck on the lips.

You went to pull away but he wasn’t having it he quickly deepened the kiss and grabbed ahold of your ass and squeezed it tightly. “Scalvo!” You gasped making him grin.

“What? You know I love doing that now give me some more sugar.” You chuckled and leaned in again giving him another kiss which quickly got heated.

The two of you were so wrapped up into one another that you didn’t even notice Cobby walk in with a box of donuts in one hand and your iced coffee in another.

His jaw flew open and he gagged the minute he saw the two of you.

“Hey, hey come on now can you two little fuckers not fuck where we eat?! That’s fucking disgusting.” Cobby gagged. “Honestly do you have no home training?”

He immediately grabbed the Clorox wipes and started wiping the counter where the two of you were. “Relax all we did was kiss.” Scalvo stated as he shoved Cobby out the way.

“And? Take that shit upstairs.” Scalvo smirked before grabbing ahold of your hand. “Better make sure you cover your ears then.” Cobby rolled his eyes as Scalvo led you upstairs.

“I can’t stand that little piece of shit.” Cobby muttered but nonetheless made sure he was out the house the minute he heard the bedroom door shut.

(first lil fic in a minuteeeeeeee I promise ima get back to posting some Jack fics soon! I got one coming out later this month! 💓)

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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sardonic-the-writer · 2 years

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𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝟎'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mention of one slur, (that is reclaimable don't come for me twitter), homophobia, death, etc

↳ song: american pie—don mclean

masterlist!

• Compared to the old giants that were London and Rome, Derry was an infant in terms of age

• But it didn't feel that way. The whole town had this sort of tint to it, like the stain of coffee on white paper—or the quality of an old polaroid that had been stuffed away and forgotten

• You had lived there most of your life. Gone to Derry Elementary, Derry Middle, would go on to attend Derry High, and would probably travel on to the closest college you could find to the area—unless something drastically changed that, of course

• It was almost like the whole place had a grip on its residents. And it wasn't like the comforting grip of your mother's hand as she led you through the grocery store. It was a harsher one. A cold and clamy grip, holding you tightly in place until you rotted away working a minimum wage job with no future in sight

• So thank god you had stumbled across the losers in your last year of middle school and changed just about everything

• It had been the last week of school when you had stupidly picked a fight with the biggest knothead in school and his gang of pimple faced idiots, figuring that if you were going to die anyway, might as well do it young

• Your school books had gone sprawling across the freshly waxed school hallway one fateful afternoon in May, the disaster courtesy of Derrys biggest doucuebag Henry Bowers

• In fact, you had told him he was such a thing to his face, which would be the reason you were currently being subjected to the pleasure of watching as Henry and his goons ripped up all of your school papers in front of everyone

• Math homework, eat your heart out

• You didn't, however, expect a stuttering voice to speak up from your left not long after watching the science paper you had worked so hard on get ripped to shreds

• "Guh-guh-guh-get fu-fucked Bowers!" A lanky kid spat out from your left, drawing most people's attention over to his blazing brown eyes instead of Henry's ugly mud colored ones

• You recognized your knight in shining armor, so to speak, as the infamous stuttering Bill Denbrough. He wasn't an unfamiliar face to you—in fact, you were pretty sure the two of you had homeroom together. But until that moment you'd never given him a second thought beyond asking to borrow a pencil

• Bill wasn't alone, either. Three more kids stood idly behind him, each one looking more anxious than the last. You'd later learn all their names to be Stan, Eddie, and Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier—the man of a hundered voices as he'd introduce himself. But right then, they were just more people to add to this already overcrowded shitshow

• "Muh-my buh-buh-bad Billy." Henry mocked Bill's stutter poorly, crossing his eyes crudely while he did it. "Duh-did I mess with one of yuh-your fag fruh-fruh-fruh-friends?"

• The shrill chorus of giggles that his friends let out at his words were like nails on a chalkboard to you

• "Takes one to know one." Richie had mummbled under his breath sourly, pushing the thick glasses he wore up his nose anxiously. The only people who heard him couldn't help but break up into a fit of sudden giggles—who of which just so happened to be you and Bill

• Both of you were found sporting black eyes the next day

• Ever since that odd school day, you had found yourself spending more and more time with each of them

• Riding bikes with Bill in his street as you got left in the dust by him and Silver, listening as Eddie rambled on nervously about all of the weird sicknesses he had gotten, furiously smashing buttons on arcade games in an attempt to beat Richie at least once, helping Stan organize all of his comics by color and alphabetical order—all became a part of your summer routine

• You quickly became a part of the losers club. Another peice to the odd puzzle you all made together. And you'd be lying if you didn't say it felt damn good

• It was only after Ben and the others showed up that things began to get both better and worse

• For starters, you had begun to see red balloons and dead kids everywhere—a detail that would later become a much bigger issue

• But you also found yourself making three entire new friends, which including Stan, Eddie, Richie and Bill, was the most you'd ever had

• Hot summer evenings down in the barrens and, eventually, the clubhouse now had a new sense of comradery to it

• You enjoyed talking with Beverly about certain book series the both of you kept up with and what songs she could play on the piano. Asking Mike about all the adventures he had gone on after hard days of farm work became a highlight of your Saturdays. Pouring over books in the library with Ben quickly became one of your favorite activities, the two of you sharing recommendations with each other. Even the librarian eventually got old of the two of you whispering excitedly to each other about story lines and character development

• Occasionally Bill or Richie would bring another kid down to the barrens to play with. It would be fun, but you all were thinking the same thing throught it all—that they were not a part of the club. That title was reserved for only the eight of you. And it would stay that way

• Together, all of you would eventually have to beat a common enemy together, sacrificing parts of yourself with it. But for now, you were content to watch as sticky syrup from popsicle sticks dripped down into your hands while you all walked to the movies, laughing about god knows what, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered but each other

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somanyratsinthewalls · 8 months

Note

Could I get sum uuuuuuuh bubbglegum with some hints of lemon ice and Neapolitan and bluebell? (Aka Buggy x Reader talking about the rest of the crossguild members but I’ll leave it up to you if they actually include Mihawk and Crocodile as an audience or if Buggy just talks big shit)

Pairing: Cross Guild Buggy x Female Reader (oh and a lil Crocodile and a lil Mihawk hehe)

WC: 2000

Prompt: “You think I don’t care about you? What do you want me to do, push you out there and fuck you in front of them?”

— —

*thunk* *plop*

“Grrrrowwwww…” Richie leaps across the wooden floor to retrieve the red bouncy ball you were casually firing off against the wall of the ship. Richie bats the ball around in his paws a few times before putting it in his mouth and trotting back over to where you were reclining on a velvet sofa. The lion drops the slobbery ball into your hand that was lazily draped over the edge of the couch.

*thunk* *plop*

You throw the ball again. Richie repeats his motions.

*thunk* *plop*

And again. You were bored out of your mind. Your husband had been sitting in the grand meeting room on the other side of the wall for hours now. You knew that with his new alliance with Mihawk and Crocodile he would have less time to dote on you, but you had barely even seen Buggy in days.

You had tried terrorizing the nearest villages in attempts to keep yourself entertained, but without the warm presence of your captain you still felt unfulfilled. Buggy always made sure he had time to meet your needs, wether that be a hard fucking before he left for his duties or leaving his very own cock detached and in your bed so you could feel him inside you when he wasn’t available.

But this time, he had left you with nothing. You craved the soft yet playful touch of your older lover. Buggy was a sensitive man and took his time to learn the intricacies of your body and soul after you became intimate partners. You quickly fell in love. You were each other’s perfect compliments. He made you crazy and you brought him back to earth. Sometimes you had to reign him in… but tonight you were letting your crazy slip through. You missed him so much, you missed pleasing him and being his good little girl…

*WOOSH*

The doors to the meeting chamber were thrown open. You sit up on your elbows and look behind you. Mihawk and Crocodile were leaving the room and the doors were closing behind them. Richie scampered off.

“Oh I see the clown’s plaything is still sniffing around.” Crocodile remarks as he looks at you. “Don’t worry, little girl, your captain’s in his office safe and sound. We though we’d continue our negotiations tomorrow.”

Your brow furrows and your eyes darken.

“Plaything? I am his wife.” You stand up and square your shoulders.

Mihawk chuckles.

“A clown’s wife? A pirate’s wife? I’m not sure which is more noble.” Mihawk gives you a once over with his eyes before laughing again.

Fire burned in your chest.

“Get out.” You spat at them. You turned tail and threw open the doors to the meeting chamber and let them close behind you. You found your blue haired husband pouring over paperwork at his desk.

“Buggy…” You begin as you stride towards him.

“Well if it isn’t my shooting star.” Buggy looks up from his work and smiles at you. You can tell he’s recently taken a blow to the eye. His smile has a crack to it… not the 1000 megawatt spotlight you were used to.

“I can’t stand them.” You huff out.

“Doll face…” Buggy coos at you as you approach him in his chair. He swivels it to face you. “I know you do. They aren’t my favorite either, but it’s what we gotta do right now.”

You sigh. You straddle yourself over Buggy and nuzzle your face into his neck, pushing his soft blue hair out of the way with your nose. You kiss the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He responds by taking the back of your head in a gloved hand and rakes through your scalp gently. He moves his other hand to grip your hip.

“And what about me, Bugs? Your girl?” You pull back and look into his green eyes. He continues to stroke the back of your head.

“What about you then, sweet cheeks? You’re my wife, my lady, my center attraction! I do all of this so we can conquer the seas together!”

“But those fucking assholes…” You retort while turning your head to the side to escape his comment. You clench your fists. Buggy uses both of his hands to grab your face and turns it to look at him in the eye.

“What do you want me to do, huh? You think I don’t care about you? What do you want me to do, push you out there and fuck you in front of them? You’re my life, y/n, how many times do I have to get that through your head?” Buggy pleads with you, but he was clearly frustrated.

“I… I just don’t know Bugs… are we cut out for this?” You question him. You see the sparkle in his eyes fade out, replaced with a burning fire.

“Y/n…” Buggy lets go of your face, his lips quirking up into a smile. “I am an Emperor of the Sea… and you are my wife… an Empress… if you will…” One of Buggy’s hands cups your cheek while the other cups your ass on his lap. “You will spend no time doubting your authority.”

Buggy quickly closes the distance between your lips and engages you in a heated kiss. You groan at the feeling of finally having your lover’s mouth on your skin again. You instinctively grind your hips down onto Buggy’s growing bulge.

“My little minx, how long have you been waiting for me? It was just one meeting, doll…” Buggy chuckled as he felt your cunt soak his pants, you having chosen to go without panties under your skirt. “You can’t possibly be this needy…” Buggy says as he lifts your hips to slide his fingers through your wetness. You hum out in satisfaction.

“I’m always like this for you, captain.” You buck your hips into his hand to try and gain more contact on your sensitive bits.

“Since you’re already so wet… bend over that chair for me.” Buggy punctuates his order with a swift smack to your ass cheek. You happily hop up and shed your clothes before you bend yourself over the leather arm chair in the meeting room. You grab a pillow to rest your arms and head on as you wiggle your naked ass towards your captain.

“Oh doll face, you’re gonna get it so good…” Buggy strides towards you, unbuckles his pants and shoves them down to his knees. You feel his warm presence behind you and gasp at the sensation of his thick uncut tip pushing through your pussy folds. It comes up to tap at your clit a few times and you whine. Buggy giggles menacingly before slamming his cock into your dripping hole from behind in a single, unforgiving thrust.

“Ah!” You shriek out.

Buggy hammers into you at a wild pace, not giving you a moment to adjust. Your legs completely give out and your whole body weight falls forward. You kick your heels up as Buggy manhandles your smaller frame. You couldn’t control your body anymore as you fist the decorative pillows on the chair you were currently bent over. You moaned and squealed as your powerful husband grabbed onto your colorful pigtails and pulled on them, to guide you back onto his cock.

*WOOSH*

“Clown, we need you to sign a few more papers before we leave.” The doors to the grand meeting hall swing open and Mihawk and Crocodile stride back in. Immediately the duo pauses and looks at your sweaty, fucked-out body poised over the armchair. Crocodile and Mihawk look at each other and then again at you.

“Gentlemen if you haven’t noticed, my wife needed some extra attention today. My apologies, but she needs some tending to.” Buggy slows his thrusts, but not completely stopping them, making you whine out in need. After being given no response, Buggy resumes his relentless pace inside of you, completely ignoring the two men who had just entered the office.

Crocodile chortles. He comes around to face you. He raises his hook and brushes your sweaty bangs out of your face. The cool metal provides you a tingling sensation.

“So you really are crazy for the clown, aren’t you?” Crocodile laughs and watches you try to grind yourself back onto your lover in an attempt to feel more of him.

In your dick-drunk state you nod your head rapidly, throwing your ass back. "Yes! Yes I love him! Fuck, so good!" You moan out.

“Crocodile…” You vaguely hear Mihawks velvet voice ring through one of your ears. “I’d be willing to leave our negotiations the way they stand if our colleague can prove himself worthy.” You could hear the mischief in his voice.

“So you’d like to see the little circus girl cum? I think that might be fun to see… so, sure, why not?” Crocodile grins. Crocodile lifts your head with his hook to look at him. Buggy was still thrusting in and out of your sopping hole from behind. You moan as you feel Buggy graze your sweet spot. “Oh he makes you feel good, huh, little thing?” Crocodile smirks down at you.

You moan in response.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck my captain makes me feel so good!” You grin lazily and push your hips back even harder against Buggy’s . “Oh!” You gasp.

“Mihawk, come look. I think she’s really about to cum, can you believe it?” Crocodiile beckons his cohort over.

“Of course she is, she’s my baby! Show the boys what you can do!” Buggy smiles wildly and detaches one of his hands to rub at your clit, egging on your release. He presses his other hand down on your stomach. “There it is! Come on baby!” Buggy gives one last thrust inside of you before finishing which triggers your orgasm. You scream as you spray out your pleasure juices all over the office.

Buggy was allowing the final spurts of his climax to flow into your walls as he pulled out roughly.

“Now since you have your proof, I’ll be seeing you next week. The deal is settled.” Buggy went back into business mode as he tucked himself back into his pants. He scooped up your nude, lifeless form and seated you on his lap at his desk. “My wife needs some rest, so if you’ll excuse us.” Buggy gestures for the *debatably* more powerful men to leave the room.

Crocodile and Mihawk look at each other before they silently exit the office, Buggy, hopeful he was done with them for a few days. You stayed in Buggy’s arms for at least 30 minutes as he hummed you silly circus tunes.

“That’ll buy us a week’s peace. Let’s head to bed, my sweet doll.” Buggy picked you up to carry you back to his captain’s quarters. You nodded your head and let the warm feeling of your husbands arms overtake you.

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vioartemis · 2 years

Text

One last time

(Tara Carpenter x fem! Bridger! reader)

Summary: Amber and Richie planned on framing Sam and you for the 2022 massacre, as you were both daughters of past Ghostfaces. Only thing; the fans never get a happy end. Neither do you. Request is here :)) a/n: This is pretty short I'm sorry I couldn't come up with anything else 😭 Warnings: blood, injuries, death (reader), angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

“Imagine the headlines tomorrow: ‘Billy Loomis’ daughter went mad and killed her friends with the help of her accomplice, Roman Bridger’s daughter! The two wanted to pursue the legacy of their fathers.’ Now that’s what we want to see!” Amber said, holding a knife to your throat

Your little group was gathered in the kitchen of her house after Richie and her tried to kill you and exposed their plan.

“What are you talking about? Roman died in 2000, he doesn’t have a daughter.” Sidney said

“No one here is his daughter!” Tara yelled

Richie turned to you with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, you didn’t tell her did you? I thought you would’ve, when Sam confessed being Billy’s daughter”

All eyes were on you.

“Fuck you.” you spat at him

“Y/n…? He’s wrong right…? You’re not…” you gave Tara a guilty look “Oh my god… why didn’t you tell me…?”

“Because… because I didn’t want to lose you… I was scared you would leave me if you knew…!”

“How am I supposed to trust you…? You lied to me for more than two years! Two fucking years Y/n! How can I know you’re telling the truth? Maybe you’re with them. Maybe-“

“Don’t say that…” you started to tear up “Please don’t say that…”

She looked away from you, like she couldn't bear to see you again. That broke your heart.

Lying to your own girlfriend for two years hurt you too. You wanted to tell her, you tried multiple times. But every time the words got stuck in your throat.

“Ow sorry, I think we messed up your relationship…” Amber smirked at you

You didn’t think about her knife still on your throat and punched her in the face. No one saw it coming.

Sidney took this opportunity to take a kitchen knife and attacked Richie, too focused on you to defend himself.

Everyone started fighting everyone. It was a messy fight; everyone was a little confused by your sudden punch at Amber.

You tried to protect Tara from the fights, pushing her away when Richie tried to stab her. They made her question your relationship? Fine. You would make them pay for that. But the most important thing was keeping her safe.

At one moment, you got thrown against the counter. You got up quickly, but Amber was now ready to shoot you. When she pulled the trigger, Tara screamed.

“Aw come on, I’m like two meters away how can you miss such an easy shot?” you smirked at the killer

“Oh you…”

She was ready to try again, but Sidney slammed the hand sanitizer on her head, making her drop the gun.

Immediately you tried to take it, but Gale looked at you with suspicious eyes.

“Right, you don’t trust me”

You backed up, letting her take the gun.

Amber tried to explain herself and convince Gale not to shoot her, but she did it anyway. The girl fell on the stove and lit up.

“Holly shit…” you let out as she burned and fell on the floor

A scream was heard, coming from the hall. Everyone got out of the kitchen and ran to the hall, ready to help.

On your way there, you grabbed Sidney’s gun that slid into a corner earlier. Just in case.

When you arrived, Sam was standing in front of Richie’s dead body, covered in blood. She didn’t need help after all.

“Careful, they always come back” Gale said

Sam took the gun from her and shot Richie in the head.

You all sighed in relief, until you heard a scream behind you. Amber was still alive and was running toward you knife in hand.

Your body reacted before your brain could process what was happening. You shot her in the head before she could hurt anyone else.

“Y/n…” Tara said, next to you

“I know, I took the gun. I’m sorry, here” you drop it “I’m not with them I-“

“No you’re bleeding!”

“Hm?” you looked down. There was blood on your jeans. “Oh… yeah… I forgot about that…”

You were too focused on Tara’s well being you completely forgot about your own wounds. Multiple wounds.

You placed a hand on your stomach. It came back stained with blood. Your black shirt made it difficult to see you were bleeding.

All of a sudden, you collapsed on the floor, all your strength leaving you.

“Shit…” you groaned as the pain grew

Tara knelt beside you, concern written on her face. She lifted your shirt up to see where your were hurt. Three stab wounds and one bullet hole.

“When did you-“

The fight flashed before her eyes. When Richie was about to stab her you protected her. Three times. Then Amber tired to shoot you.

“You said she missed…!”

“Maybe I lied…”

You started coughing, blood coming out of your chest and mouth. Your girlfriend tried to stop the bleeding, applying pressure on your wounds.

"Sam call an ambulance!" she yelled at her sister before turning back to you "Y/n I'm sorry I told you that earlier... I didn't mean it I swear..."

"I know, I know..." you smiled weakly, putting a hand on her cheek and wiping her tears gently "It's okay my love... please don't cry... I want to see your smile one last time..."

"W-what do you mean 'one last time'...?"

"You can't save me Tara..."

"No no no no no..."

"C'mon... smile for me, my pretty girl..."

She held back her tears and cracked a weak smile.

"I love you so much..." you whispered, still smilling

"I love you too..."

You closed your eyes for a second, the light hurting you.

"Y/n...?" your arm fell slowly "Hey..." she shook you slightly "Baby please... Y/n...! Please wake up...! Don't leave me..."

She wanted to scream. You couldn't die. Not like that. Not now. You still had so many things to do...

"What about these holidays we talked about...? The amusement park...? The dates on the beach...? The sunsets you said we'd see together...? Y/n please..."

She couldn't admit it. Even months after. She still hoped you would come at her door one day, hug her, kiss her, take her hand and take her with you to some cool place you promised her to go.

But you never came.

Sometimes she dreamt about you. Waking up without you next to her was always heartbreaking. She kept the clothes you forgot in her closet. At first they still smelt like you. Not anymore.

It was like you really disappeared. Every trace of your presence slowly vanished.

Not the pictures though. Oh how much she cried looking at your selfies together, holding your favorite necklace tight in her hand. The one she gave you on your first anniversary. The one you never took off.

Everyone told her to move on, to see someone if she needed help. But she didn't need help. She needed you.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #scream #scream 5

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jo-harrington · 2 years

Text

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 3)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 12.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, Masturbation, Fantasies/Wet Dreams, To Quote JQ "There Do Be Willies"

Note: Guys...ok I tried I really did. First off once again thanks to @ghost-proofbaby, @big-ope-vibes and @trashmouth-richie for being my sounding boards for some things in this chapter. And then because they have been SO amazing with their writing and their big-brainedness, this chapter is dedicated to @myosotisa and @blue-mossbird.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Before Eddie could react at all to Steve's appearance, Steve had launched himself off the bed, crossed the room, and pinned Eddie against the wall with an arm across his neck. The pressure was uncomfortable, but not enough to keep him from breathing or talking.

"How did you get in here?" Eddie questioned.

"It's my fucking house, Freak," Steve spat. "I know where the spare key is. Now, what the fuck did you do to me? To us. How the fuck did you do this?"

"Listen pal," Eddie grunted, trying to shove Steve off of him. Eddie wondered, fleetingly as he stared into his own rage-filled eyes, if he was actually that strong, or if it was just because Steve had better control of his strength. "I don't know what you think I could have done, but I was just as surprised as I'm sure you were when I woke up here this morning. In your fucking body."

"That's bullshit. You did this," Steve insisted. "You...did some satanic ritual—"

"Are you stupid? It's all a joke man," Eddie began. "I don't worship Satan, Hellfire's not a cult."

"Fuck you, you and your devil horns and latin chants during lunc—"

"I just played that shit up so my friends don't get beaten up by meathead jocks like you."

Fed up with being pushed around and accused Eddie went slack against the wall for a second, causing Steve's footing to falter, and with that he threw his whole weight against Steve, causing him to tumble back onto the floor. Eddie knelt over him, gritting his teeth, and fisted the front of his shirt.

"You think if I had some kind of say in my life, some kind of power to change it, I would still be stuck in a shithole like Hawkins?" Eddie sneered. "Stuck in that trailer, stuck being a student at Hawkins high for another day?"

"Except you're not stuck anymore," Steve retorted. "I am."

"Y-you think I would want to be stuck like this instead?" Eddie huffed. "King fucking Steve Harrington. Who has it all handed to him. What kind of life is that?"

"You didn't seem too miserable a few seconds ago," Steve pointed out.

Eddie let go of Steve and he dropped slightly, head bouncing slightly off the plush area rug.

Fucking Harrington can't even have hard enough floors to hurt.

Eddie stood to his full height and looked around the bedroom again—at Steve's desk and his lovingly filled-out calendar, at the plush bed, at the window that overlooked a swimming pool for fuck's sake—and wondered how fair it was that Steve could have anything he ever wanted, but never did.

What would you like me to say to that Steve? That you're right? That I would want your life? That you're an idiot and you don't deserve any of this? That I do instead?

"Where were you just now anyway?" Steve continued as he watched Eddie cross over to the window. "Take my car for a joyride or something? While I'm driving around your rusty old shitbox? Or...or—"

"Took your girl out for a date," Eddie interrupted and glanced back at Steve over his shoulder. "Or did you forget about her?"

"My gir—" Steve paused. "Do you mean...You took her out on our date?"

"I went through the motions today," Eddie explained. "Wake up in someone else's body, go to work at their job, take their girlfriend on the date they had planned."

"For someone who seems to have no idea how this happened," Steve grunted as he pushed himself off the floor. "You seem to know how to handle a situation like this pretty perfectly."

"How do you think I should have handled it? Driving around town screaming about spells and magic?"

Steve had the sense to look ashamed for a minute and Eddie smirked.

"What did you do today then, eh 'Eddie?'"

"I...I went to school," Steve started.

"Sounds like going through the motions to me."

"I went to find Henderson!"

"Wait a minute," Eddie turned to face Steve fully. "You told Henderson?"

"Yeah," Steve shrugged. "What was I supposed to do? He's part of your little band of misfits. Figured he might know some...counter spell and get me back in my body."

Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

Great, Dustin was going to actually think Eddie was the devil now.

"Did you tell anyone?" Steve asked dumbly.

"No because I'm not an absolute idiot," Eddie exclaimed, throwing his hands out. "Fuck, no wonder Buckley calls you a dingus."

"Well lah-di-dah, I'm sorry I don't have the mystical body switching handbook memorized like you do" Steve snarked and fell onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug to his body for comfort. "What would that even look like? A...a...pentagram with 'shut the fuck up' written in the middle in latin or something?"

Eddie froze.

A mystical body switching handbook.

A pentagram.

Or maybe a sigil?

"God, I can't even believe you went on my date for me. Did you even...how did you know I had reservations at the Club? Wait, is that what you wore? Jesus Ch—”

"Shut up!" Eddie interrupted. "Go back, what did you just say?"

"Uh....The Club?" Steve asked. "The...Country Club up in Marion? My dad plays golf there."

"No before that, you said—" Eddie stopped. "Wait, you were gonna take her for dinner at the Golf Club? Kind of a douche move there, Harrington. Even for you."

"Well where did you take her then?"

"Doesn't matter," Eddie dismissed, smugly filing away the fact that his idea for a date was better than Steve's. Country Club. "You said...a pentagram."

"Yeah? What about it?" Steve asked. When Eddie hesitated to answer, Steve grew concerned. "Please don't tell me you drew a pentagram and asked for...I don't know, better hair or something and now we're stuck like this."

Eddie ignored the dig at his hair.

"Not...exactly."

"Oh!" Mrs. Henderson looked surprised when she opened the door to find both "Steve" and "Eddie" on her doorstep. "What a surprise!"

"Hey, Mrs. H," "Steve" greeted with a smile, causing "Eddie" to roll his eyes. "Is Dustin here?"

"He is. With Will and Lucas. Since someone decided to cancel Hellfire Club," she glared at "Eddie" good-naturedly. "I can go get him for you; come on in. Did you boys have dinner? You hungry? I have plenty of leftover tater tot casserole."

"No thank you," they answered in tandem and crossed through into the living room and took a seat on the couch.

As she made her way back towards Dustin's room, the boys started to bicker.

"Why would you cancel Hellfire? I never cancel. Even when I'm sick."

"I’m sorry was this not a pressing matter? Your little club can’t skip one week?”

Mews jumped up and settled in "Eddie's" lap and Steve froze as she began purring.

Mews was never really a fan of Steve's to begin with, the few times Steve had come over to spend time with Dustin and the kids. It was mutual indifference, actually. She mostly stayed cuddled up in Mrs. Henderson's arms, but when she wasn't they gave one another distance. Steve had no interest in getting near the cat, and the cat had no interest in getting near Steve.

So for her to be comfortable and purring in "Eddie's" lap...it made Steve a little nervous. What if she bit him or clawed him or—

"Well, aren't you gonna give her pets Harrington?" Eddie reached over and started scratching between her ears.

"Uh...I'm not an animal person," Steve explained and Eddie gave him a dull look. "What if it scratches me?"

"Are you kidding?" Eddie scoffed. "First, she's literally the cuddliest cat in the world. Second, she's a she, not an it. And third, if she scratches you, technically she'd scratch me and I've already been scratched several times when I fed the baby raccoons at Forest Hills."

"The—Why are you feeding raccoons?" Steve exclaimed. "They're wild animals, they're feral."

"They're babies, they shouldn't be eating trash. Which reminds me, as long as we're stuck like this, you need to leave a can or two of tuna out for the stray cats once in a while."

Steve watched Eddie for a moment, waiting for the laughter to start or a punchline to come out of his mouth. And it never did.

"What is wrong with yo—"

"Eddie! Steve!" the boys jumped at Dustin and his mother's appearance. Dustin had wide eyes and a strained smile. "What a surprise! Eddie, how was detention?"

Eddie turned back to look at Steve with raised eyebrows and a manic grin.

"Detention?" Eddie asked. "When did this happen?"

"I was late to class. You know, like I am every day." Steve answered, taking a cheap dig at Eddie for putting him on the spot.

"Anyway!" Dustin began loudly. "Why don't you guys come on back. And we can discuss that surprise campaign for Mike's birthday."

Eddie picked Mews off Steve's lap and handed her back to Mrs. Henderson with another last little chin scratch, and then he and Steve followed Dustin back to his room where, indeed, Lucas and Will were waiting.

"Alright dweebs, get lost," Steve announced.

"No way, we're not leaving until we figure this whole body switching thing out," Lucas scoffed.

"You told them too?" Eddie turned to Steve and Steve held his hands up defensively.

"No," Dustin interjected. "I did. I needed Will the Wise's brain and Sinclair the Soldier's tenacity if I was gonna solve this."

"What about Wheeler?" Eddie asked.

The boys sheepishly looked at one another.

"Mike's not exactly the best at keeping secrets," Will began hesitantly. "And if Nancy found out...well..."

"And we do actually need to come up with some kind of surprise for his birthday," Lucas continued. "A quest to reverse a curse on two knights sounds pretty epic."

They all looked to Eddie for his input.

"Could be interesting," Eddie hummed and tilted his head back and forth in contemplation. "I might be inclined to give it a DM stamp of approval if we can actually figure this thing out."

The kids all cheered and started talking over one another, saying that they went to the Hawkins Public Library after school since Hellfire was canceled. They gathered several fantasy books and a folklore book, and when they asked about occultism at the reference desk, there was one book that had recently been checked out.

"Funny you should mention that," Steve piped up and pulled the faded red book out from where it was tucked into Eddie's jacket. "Eddie and I nearly tore apart his trailer trying to find it.

And they had.

After Eddie had dropped the news that he, indeed, might have been the cause of this switch—unintentionally—he and Steve headed to Forest Hills to find the book.

Steve honestly felt a little vindicated that it actually was Eddie who had done this to the two of them, but...he admitted that he might have let all of the mania about Eddie and Hellfire Club fuel his anger.

But as he stood off to the side and watched the boys flip through the pages with Eddie as Eddie regaled them with his campaign ideas and the sigil that had caught his eye, Steve couldn't help but feel that bitter vile jealousy begin to bubble up again.

How long ago was it that he was taking them to the junkyard to ride their bikes and find scraps and bits and pieces for them to use for their...LORPing...LARPing...

And it was fun, yeah, watching the little idiots get excited over hunks of discarded pipes they could use as staffs, and bent and dented garbage can lids they could use as shields.

But he had done all of those things in an effort to make Nancy see he was a good guy, and he had lost her. And he had kept doing those things because the kids were actually fun and like the younger siblings he had always wanted...and now they were arguing about the differences between Latin and Ancient Mycenaean with Eddie.

He just couldn't keep up.

So he took the route he always knew would keep him and his feelings safe: he lashed out.

"Alright, so," he put his hands on his hips." What's the verdict, how soon can we switch back? I don't want to be stuck smelling like weed for the rest of my life. Do you even wash your clothes, Munson?"

All four boys—well, 3 boys and one man—stared at Steve with wide, almost hurting eyes. And Steve realized...

Shit.

...he hadn't made fun of someone like that in front of the kids that way in a long time.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't," he sighed and collapsed into Dustin's desk chair. "It's just been a really long day guys. It isn't easy being Eddie."

"Oh?" Eddie scoffed. "You just realizing that now Harrington? After one day of being me? You have it so fucking easy that it takes one day of...what? Being pushed around or called a freak or driving an old van that is not a rusty old shitbox, by the way. One day without your big house and your notes from your mommy and your neatly pressed clothes and your cute girlfriend doting on you?"

"And what do you know about my life?" Steve argued. "You don't know half of the shit that I go through! And you don't even care. You go around without a care in the world. Everyone you think is your friend is either afraid of you or looking for your approval. I heard from Janie Miller that you offered to give her free weed one time if she flashed you her boobs. You don't care who you're hurting or insulting or shitting on unless it's fun for you."

It was a miracle Mrs. Henderson didn't come to see what the ruckus was about because it just went on. Enough that they started talking over one another. One dig after another, one way their lives were seemingly better or seemingly worse.

The kids tried to interrupt them but they just kept going.

And Steve's breathing got heavy and his throat got tight, his eyes stung with unshed tears as he thought about...

The way everyone left him. The way he was actually alone. The way his dad couldn't see how hard he sought his approval. The way his mom only did nice things for him anymore was because he knew her secrets. The way his high school friends only liked him because of his popularity. The way that Nancy Wheeler never actually liked him at all, just liked the way he made her feel. The way that the kids left him behind for the next cool older brother kind of guy that came along. The way he was sure even Robin only half-tolerated him.

And the more that he thought those thoughts, the more...the more Eddie's body felt like his. The more he could feel every hair follicle on his head, the way every breath rattled his chest a little bit, the way his ears rang a little bit constantly from the loud music he always blasted in his van.

It got to be so much that it was scary.

But he and Eddie kept on arguing, until someone had the good sense to stop them.

"SHUT UP!" Will yelled and everything went silent. The two older boys stared at Will and he shrunk a little bit under their gaze. "I, uh, I think I figured out what happened."

"Well?" Steve snarked.

"...well I don't know for sure..." Will replied hesitantly. "I don't take Latin with Lucas and Dustin. B-but this right here. Alterius Oculos. Another's eyes?"

He pointed to the inscription on the page Eddie had shown them, right above the sigil.

“Ok what about ‘another’s eyes?’” Eddie asked.

“You need to…see through another’s eyes maybe.” Lucas offered. “Not literally. Figuratively. Empathize with them? Ms. Kelly told me about that a few weeks ago. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes.”

“Except, it’s actually literal,” Dustin snapped his fingers. “Because you two are actually seeing through one another’s eyes and wearing each other’s shoes.”

“So I drew the sigil, went to bed and we switched bodies to see through each other’s eyes and…understand each other better?” Eddie huffed. “I wasn’t even thinking of Harrington when I drew it!”

“What were you thinking of?” Lucas questioned.

Eddie quietly picked at his fingernails, and Steve looked down at his own hands—at Eddie’s actual hands—and saw the ripped up skin and closely trimmed nails. Eddie was a nail biter.

Eddie Munson was a nail biter and he was nervous and he was…

“I was thinking that…nothing good ever happened to me. That…I needed to have a reality check or something,” Eddie shrugged.

…Eddie was a loser. He didn’t have it all figured out. He struggled with things…beyond Steve’s understanding. Even because of Steve sometimes.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cut in. “It’s not like I did anything to help things last night.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“I, uh, might have charged you extra for your movie rental just to get you out of my hair for a while.”

“I knew it!” Eddie exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Steve. “I knew you were pulling that shit on purpose.”

“Can you fucking blame me, have you ever met yourself?” Steve asked.

“Well, I certainly can say I have now,” Eddie grumbled. “So how do we fix this? How do we switch back?”

The younger boys all shared another nervous look.

“I guess…” Will began. “Do more things to understand each other. Just…do whatever the other would do…live each other’s lives.”

“For how long? Forever?” Steve scoffed.

“Lucas and I can translate the rest of this page,” Dustin offered.

“I’m sorry, Lucas and who?” Lucas asked. “You’re barely passing Latin.”

“Ok Lucas can translate the page while Will and I can do my best to help ‘Eddie’ navigate Hellfire Club.” Dustin held his hands out as though he was weighing his options. “And ‘Steve’ can just…not fuck up real Steve’s life. Or real Eddie’s life for that matter!”

“Can’t fuck up something that’s at Rock Bottom,” Steve grumbled.

“And maybe you two could work on understanding each other in the mean time?” Lucas asked.

Steve and Eddie stared at one another in a way that felt, to Steve at least, like a challenge. They nodded and Steve felt the unspoken “let the best man win” ring through the air.

Otherwise they were both gonna lose.

Eddie threw his head back with laughter.

"Swing and a miss," he called as you swung the putter at the little purple golf ball, over and over, without actually hitting it. "Honey, are you just letting me win? There's no way you can be so bad at this."

"We can't all be professional mini golfers," you laughed at him.

"Excuse me, that is 'mini golf champion,'" Eddie boasted. "They have my face in the Hall of Fame."

"Oh I didn't know I was in the presence of a celebrity," you bowed to him. "Maybe you could take some pity on a poor peasant and help me get this shot please."

"I supposed I could give you some pointers," he sighed dramatically and sidled up behind you. He wrapped his arms comfortably around you and his hands found yours on the putter. When he tried to get your body into position to make the shot, you pressed yourself back against him and rested your head on his shoulder a bit. "Hmmm, what is this funny business, honey? Trying to distract me?"

You wiggled your shoulders and relaxed, leaning your body further into his, emphasizing the softness of you against the hardness of him.

And it was only getting harder by the second.

"Maybe I'm trying to win?" you turned your head to look at him, breath fanning against his jaw.

"Considering I've made par on every hole so far—"

"I'm not talking about golf anymore Eddie," you muttered, shaking your hands out from below his on the putter so you could turn within his embrace and cup his face softly...reverently. "I...you know I've always had a huge crush on you."

"Honey, why do you have to tell me such sweet things?" Eddie asked. "It's our first date, I'm trying to be a gentleman. We're in public."

"And if we weren't in public?" You tilted your face closer to his, lips practically brushing against his. "Would you be a gentleman then?"

"Do you want me to be?" he asked breathlessly.

He dropped the putter and grabbed at your waist as he crushed his mouth to yours. It was a hungry sort of kiss, like he was a man starved. And when the joyous moan that came from you was as sweet as honey, Eddie resolved that you were, indeed, going to give him a sweet tooth.

Eddie's hands slid easily across the smooth surface of your shiny taffeta dress as he pulled you closer, causing it to rustle as it crinkled under his touch. It got harder to think as he savored your softness but he dreamed of what it would be like to be surrounded by all of you. To be consumed, and suffocated, and smothered by you.

He could have it...he could have you...

You pulled away momentarily and stared up into his eyes, yours glassy with want and adoration, something that he only ever hoped you would look at him with.

"Do you wanna answer the phone?" you muttered.

"W-what?"

"Steven are you up?" There was a knock on the bedroom door and Eddie woke with a start. He groggily looked around the room, at the plaid wallpaper and the tidy belongings.

Damn. The thing that he hoped was a dream was real, and the thing he hoped was real was only a dream.

"There's someone calling for you. Did you wanna answer?" Mrs. Harrington said through the door.

"Y-yeah, uh," Eddie called out and cleared his throat. "M-mom." The word was unfamiliar on his tongue, in his brain. Like a language that hadn't been practiced in quite some time.

He hoped, at the very least, Steve didn't call her "mommy."

He had been well on his way to an early-riser if he hadn't been woken up, but nothing was a bigger boner-killer than thinking of Mrs. Harrington as "mommy."

"Alright, come downstairs when you're ready; I'm making breakfast too. Your favorite."

Eddie pushed himself out of Steve's bed for the fifth day in a row. Threw on some of Steve's clothes for the fifth day in a row.

After the discussion with the kids on Friday night, he and Steve had agreed to go through the motions, make the best of living one-another's lives and actually put in the effort. Eddie told him about the things he did to make things easier around the trailer since Wayne worked nights--the laundry, grocery shopping, bringing home a little extra money by dealing—and Steve told Eddie the things he did—driving Robin to school, working at Family Video, his "health routines."

Although, Eddie would hesitate to call shaving his chest and styling his hair something someone did for their health.

He was also hesitant to maintain Steve's morning run, considering the fact that he hated running, but found that it was easier in Steve's athletic body than in his garbage bag one—Steve's words, not his.

They also set one non-negotiable thing each, that the other must do no matter what.

For Eddie, that was Corroded Coffin and their Tuesday gigs, like the one they had that night.

He had spent the weekend coming up with a plan for them to still play, even with Steve in his body and fully unable to play the guitar. Steve had even offered to learn some easy guitar riffs or chords, but Eddie had standards to keep. It would be his luck that on the night Steve was in his body putzing around that some....record label exec would walk into the Hideout. He wasn't gonna let that fly.

So they figured out that "Steve" would be spending some time with "Eddie" at Dustin's request so they could "reconcile their differences." And in an effort to learn more about "Eddie," he would go to Corroded Coffin's shows.

Since the "stage lights" were so bright and blinding anyway, no one would know that he slipped into the supply closet where his Fender would be plugged into the equipment, while Steve faked playing an unfortunately dead Sweetheart on stage. There was more to the performance than just focusing on the music...so he'd just have to hope that none of the guys gave Steve any cues that he couldn't see.

The singing was an easy fix. Jeff was working on his confidence; Eddie would just let him be the frontman tonight. No need to worry about Steve knowing any of the songs, let alone their lyrics.

He was an optimist when it came to music though. This would work.

For Steve, it was that Eddie did not talk to his parents outside of any quick, cordial conversations. And Eddie wasn't one to pry—he had his fair share of parental issues—it just seemed weird that the mention of Ma and Pa Harrington would cause Golden Boy Stevie to choke up the way he did.

Thankfully for Eddie, the Harrington's had vibrant social lives. Thomas Harrington worked late at the car dealership and then went out for dinner and drinks with his salesmen most nights Monday through Saturday. And on Sunday he got his clubs out of the hall closet and went to the Country Club to play with his other businessman friends for most of the day. Mary Harrington was just...unexplainably gone from the house for most of the day, most days. Eddie couldn't even explain when she was home to do all of the things she seemed to do around the house.

"Steve" had the day off of work yesterday so he was home for most of the day, and short of the few hours he had left the house to take you out on another date, Mary hadn't been home at all. Miraculously, when he returned at the end of the night, his hamper was empty, his bed had been made, his new schedule was written in his calendar, and his lunch was ready in the fridge for the following day.

Eddie wondered why everyone thought he was capable of dark magic when, clearly, Mary Harrington was the town's resident witch.

This morning was the first one that he had even heard her voice, let alone be the first time he would see her as he resided in Steve’s body.

Eddie crept down the stairs and into the hall, peering around to see if Mrs. Harrington was anywhere nearby then approached the little hall table where the phone was sitting off the hook.

"Good morning, this is Steve Harrington," he greeted as he pressed the receiver to his ear. "Fine purveyor of rental videos, microwave popcorn, and movie theater candy. How can I help you?" There was giggling on the other end of the line and he grinned.

"Please don't tell me that's how you answer the phone at Family Video?" you said, instead of a "hello."

"I will now," he promised.

"No!"

"You'll just have to call more often and stop people from actually having to hear it." His smile grew at your skeptical uh huh and he continued. "What's going on this morning, honey. I thought you had class."

He could envision you leaning against a payphone, twirling a finger through a lock of your hair.

"I have a few minutes," you explained. "But I just wanted to call and say I had a really good time last night."

He had taken you to the drive in to see a double feature—House on Haunted Hill and The Bat; Eddie knew you loved Vincent Price but "Steve" just had incredibly luck—but most of the night was spent talking and holding hands and at the end of the night, he got to kiss you again.

Eddie felt triumphant once again, knowing deep down that you would like the dates he had planned over anything Steve could have come up with.

Part of the discussion with Steve about how to go about each other's lives also included you. Eddie had hesitated and asked how Steve felt that someone else was dating his girlfriend and Steve had just shrugged.

"She's a good one, I don't wanna let her get away," Steve shrugged. "You'll just have to keep her warm for me."

"Is that really the best way to build a relationship?" Eddie asked. "Lies? Tricks?"

"She doesn't have to know you're not me," Steve explained. "Just...take it easy, don't do any of the good stuff until we switch back. You wanna know some of my favorite dating spots?"

So Eddie decided...if he happened to be stuck in Steve's body forever he could have you. And if he ever made it back to his body...well...Steve wasn't exactly as smooth as people thought he was. If he couldn't keep up the loverboy act Eddie had started, you would get fed up and dump him.

And Eddie would be right there to pick up the pieces.

"Oh yeah?" Eddie laughed. "Well I'm glad. I did too. What was your favorite part?"

"Uhhh...oh! That part when you—"

The two of you chatted for a few minutes, talking and laughing easily, before you told him you had to get to class. He needed to get going too, so he could drive Robin to school.

His chest ached a little when he hung up the phone.

"It's good to see you smiling, Stevie," came a voice from over his shoulder. He jumped, seeing Mary leaning against the threshold to the living room.

"Uh, good morning," Eddie greets her.

"Were you hungry? Figured we could have a little chat over breakfast," she smiled an obviously strained smile.

Shit, how did she know? What did she know?

"I actually have to get going," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder then put his hands in his pockets. "Take Robin to school...get to work, open the shop."

"Let me get your lunch then!" Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she dashed away. Eddie wondered if he could make an escape before she came back, but before long she was pressing the brown paper bag into his hand. "I put your allowance in there too. Remember Dad can't find out about it, Steve. Please...dad can't find out. Please."

"Oh...kay," Eddie frowned. Was that the reason Steve didn't want Eddie talking to his parents? Because his dad cut him off but his mom was giving him money instead? Well, Eddie could keep a secret, and enjoy the benefits of some extra pocket money. "Sure. Mom. Whatever you say. I've gotta go."

"You have plans tonight?" she asked. "I can leave dinner for you."

"Nah, I'll probably be home late," Eddie explained. "Going out with friends."

Mary's face fell into a neutral expression, then she rolled her eyes and sighed. It was night and day from how it was just moments before, and it was incredibly uncomfortable for Eddie.

"You can't do this forever Steven," she shook her head. "Keep me at arms length. I'm your mother. I'm trying."

"I don't...I'm sorry mom. I've gotta go."

Eddie scooped Steve's keys out of the little dish on the table and headed towards the front door.

"I'm trying, Steven," Mary called after him cryptically. "You can't be mad at me forever."

Tuesdays were your favorite day of the week.

Well they weren't...your favorite; did anyone even have a favorite day of the week?

To be completely honest, they were actually kind of nasty.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were the days you had the heaviest course load at the Community College. Your first class started at 7am—you thought they would be easy thanks to your early starts in high school, but you thought wrong—and aside from a brief, squeezed-in lunch break at 11:45, you had classes straight until 3. Tuesdays also meant Bingo at the Rec center and an early dinner rush of senior citizens at Benny's that started right at the beginning of your shift. So no breaks again until closer to 6? Or 7? Or later if the actual dinner rush ran long.

And Benny was a nice guy, right? He always let you take an extra 5 minutes when he made his rounds about the restaurant to greet the regulars.

But Lynn? The curmudgeonly opening waitress who had been around Benny's before it was even Benny's?! Who had been doing this for longer than you'd been alive? Lynn spent the tiny bit of overlap in your shifts criticizing everything you did.

Every. Little. Thing.

Usually you could ignore her, but on Tuesdays when you were just one...big mass of irritation, it took everything in you not to flip her the bird as she left. Just one big "fuck you, you miserable old bitch" to her back as she retreated to her clunky, old Mercury Monterey.

As soon as her tail lights were out of sight from the diner windows and she was a little too far to turn back and chastise you about something she forgot to earlier—she had done that enough for it to always be a valid fear—you got to breathe.

You suddenly gained a sense of serenity and joy.

Because Tuesday wasn't your favorite day. Tuesday nights were your favorite nights.

Corroded Coffin came in on Tuesdays. Eddie came in on Tuesdays.

You told yourself going into the day...well, now that you were dating Steve...it was going to be different. It had to be different. The date on Friday really felt like Steve had turned a new leaf; he was moving on from Nancy and was actually gonna give this thing with you a chance.

And your date with him the night before? It had been so perfect; you hadn't even thought about Eddie once. Well...actually...

That fleeting thought you had about Eddie on Friday night, wondering how he might kiss you, left a pit in your stomach. And it had returned with a vengeance after Steve had kissed you last night too. Enough so that it practically kept you up all night from guilt and made you call him this morning to tell him...

I really had a good time with you last night but when you kissed me I thought of someone else.

...to tell him what a great time you had, and that you were excited to see him again.

And it wasn't a lie. You were excited to see him. Excited for this change in him. Excited for the attention and affection he freely gave you during these last two dates that he, generally, hadn't given you during the first two.

You owed it to Steve, and to yourself, to give it a chance. And in order for it to be a fair chance, you had to make a clear distinction in your mind that...well...Steve was...your boyfriend now, and Eddie? Eddie was unfortunately just a friend.

A friend you wanted to kiss.

God this was gonna be difficult.

You could still be nice to him, still look forward to Tuesday nights when he and the guys would come in. They were fun nights filled with music and silly arguments and a textbook example of "boys will be boys."

You simply had to remember that all of those little extra things you did—make sure his favorite booth was free, ask Benny for pickles on his patty melt that he always forgot to ask for, or give him extra whipped cream on his slice of pie—weren't because you wanted Eddie to like you. Or notice you. Or maybe ask you out one day.

It was because you were his friend.

You had even come up with some foolproof plan to get the butterflies to stop flapping in your stomach when you did all of those little things for Eddie. Because you certainly couldn't stop doing them; that would be suspicious. Instead, every time your heart would beat a little harder for Eddie, you would just...think of Steve. His smile and his laugh and his kiss...

It would be so easy.

And certainly much easier tonight of all nights, as Steve walked into Benny's with Corroded Coffin, laughing along to some joke Jeff told before they had opened the door.

It would be so easy.

"Hey guys," you greeted nervously and turned to Steve. "What are you doing here?"

“What a lovely greeting Honey,” Steve chuckled and quickly glanced around before he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment as Eddie and the boys watched the interaction, Dave and Gareth giving Eddie pointed looks, which he ignored.

How strange.

“Steve, please,” you laughed nervously. “I’m at work.”

“Well the boss isn’t around,” Steve pointed out.

“Uh…w-well I have your usual booth ready guys,” you greeted Eddie and his friends.

"Harrington's joining us tonight," Eddie pointed out. "Can we get a table or instead?"

"I can just pull an extra chair up to the booth," you offered, knowing Eddie really liked the view out of the window.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "That booth does sound nice, Eddie. I don't mind a chair."

"No, we'll get a table," Eddie waved a hand dismissively. "Everyone good with that?" The rest of the guys agreed and Steve huffed an agreement beside you.

"Ok, uh," you stammered. "Wherever you guys wanna sit then, I'm the only one here tonight. And Ben. As usual."

It wasn't...terrible or anything, them wanting a table, it just threw off your cadence. If they had sat in the booth, you already had menus, waters, and silverware set out. Now you had to move everything across the restaurant because Eddie had beelined for a round table in the corner.

It was fine.

Steve hung back for a second and pulled you to the side.

"Hey, uh, is it ok that I'm here?" he asked. "You look a little flustered."

"Yeah, no I'm ok," you gave him a small smile. "Just wasn't expecting you. And I've had a bit of a long day. Kind of overdue for my last break too."

"You should ask Benny if you can take your break," Steve offered. "We'll be fine. The guys are hungry but they'll have to wait regardless."

"The...guys..." you narrowed your eyes at Steve. It felt too familiar coming from his mouth. "What are you doing here with them Steve?"

There was a beat as Steve's eyes got a little bigger and he looked down at his feet for a second before he cleared his throat.

"Listen Honey, I took what you said the other day to heart," Steve started quietly, inching a little closer to you. "About Eddie being your friend. I figured...he had something going on with him, I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. So I went to check up on him and...I don't know, turns out the guy isn't half bad when you get to know him."

"Really?" you asked blankly. You had no reason not to trust him but...going from calling someone a dangerous freak who should be in jail to hanging out with him and his friends in just a few days...seemed drastic.

But when you stared into his hazel eyes, there wasn't a hint of deceit in them.

"Sure," he shrugged a little. "I even went and watched his band play tonight."

"You did?" You were sure the craziest music Steve was into was Van Halen, if that. All of the tapes in his car were…rocky and poppy and nothing outside of the Top 40 charts.

"They're pretty good," he grinned. "Very good actually. They did Flight of Icarus and Mr. Crowley."

"You...listen to metal?" you asked with a frown.

"Uh," Steve shrugged again. "There's some good songs. And Ozzy. Who doesn't know Ozzy?"

"You gonna sit there and chit chat all night Harrington?" Eddie called from the table and the rest of the guys all chuckled. Steve's eyes hardened for a second but he gave you a gentle smile before he went to join them.

You didn't always go outside during your breaks; more often than not, you would sit in the kitchen, do some homework, and chat with Benny as he manned the grill. You'd think a middle-aged man and a 19-year old would have nothing in common, but Benny was honestly like an aloof father figure. He just stood there as you talked or complained about this or that, offered advice or lame jokes. It was perfect.

But tonight was just...confusing.

You tried to make the best of it, you really did. You brought the guys everything they needed, you smiled shyly when Steve reached over and held your hand as he ordered...

He even asked for a little kiss and you reluctantly gave him a peck on the cheek.

But it was Eddie.

He was being a real douchebag. Not to everyone else; just to you.

You had gotten their table set up and then went to check on the other customers and get their drink orders. But when you came back, he didn't even want his Dr. Pepper. He said water was fine.

When you asked everyone if they wanted their usuals—Patty Melts all around. No onions for Dave, extra sauce for Gareth, on a bun instead of rye for Jeff, and add pickles for Eddie—Eddie changed his mind and ordered a bacon cheeseburger instead. Ok, no big deal. It wasn't the first time he'd changed it up.

But then he had just been...picky.

The fries were overdone, the bacon wasn't crispy, it wasn't medium well.

You had brought his food back to the kitchen 3 times, and Benny even offered to kill Eddie for you to get you to laugh.

"He's a good kid but maybe it's his time of the month or something," Benny shrugged, urging you to let things slide. "Got bitten by a werewolf. Or turned into a vampire or something. I could even put some garlic powder on the fries, see if it does him in."

He then told you to go take your break, that he would take the burger back out and make sure none of the guys were having any problems with their food.

"Or else," he raised his spatula as though it was a deadly weapon.

Who knows, Benny kept things to himself, maybe he could kill someone with a spatula...

You were leaning against the grey stucco on the side of the building, enjoying the slight breeze, when there was a crunch of gravel off to the side. You turned your head to see Steve standing there with a small smile and his hands in his pockets.

"You doing ok, honey?" he asked.

"Yeah, just a long day like I said," you explained.

"How was class?"

"Stupid. How was work?"

"Stupid." He grinned wider. "I, uh, was really looking forward to seeing you tonight though."

You pursed your lips to stop the smile from making it onto your face.

"You really wanted to see me in my stupid uniform?" you asked, holding your hands out to emphasize the shapeless blue dress. "I look like Hazel."

"Did I ever tell you that I had the biggest crush on Shirley Booth when I was a kid?" You broke out in laughter. "What? What's so funny? Hazel might just be my type, did you ever think of that?"

"You are..." you started, but paused and shook your head dismissively as he got closer to you.

"I'm?" he questioned, leaning over to take one of your hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"You're not...what I expected Steve Harrington to be like," you muttered. His eyes went wide for a second as they darted back and forth between yours. "You're so much better."

"Of course I'm better, it's because I'm..." He faltered for a moment. "It's because I'm crazy about you, honey."

Your heart dropped into your stomach...

Steve was...crazy about you?

"You just make me wanna dance," he chuckled and took a step back, pulling you with him. He lifted your arm and made to twirl you around, and you laughed as you tripped on the gravel drive. He urged you to try again and you managed to twirl this time, apron flaring.

Round and around until you got a little dizzy and he pulled you to his chest.

"Hi Honey," he whispered as he rocked you back and forth to some unheard tune.

"Hi," you giggled breathlessly.

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't always have to ask."

"But can?"

"Always."

Then his lips pressed to yours and you closed your eyes and you were surrounded by him again. Noses brushing, his lips softly pecking at yours, his hands tugging you closer as you reached up to hold his face in yours.

He pulled away briefly to drop little kisses on the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. Your eyes opened and you watched your own fingers thread through his hair, seemingly leading him further along to your neck, but instead it was just an unwitting follower because the choice to suck a bruising kiss at your pulse point was anything but yours.

You grasped at him tighter as something between a whimper and a moan exited you, and he chuckled in a husky, smokey way before laving his tongue over the abused spot.

You closed your eyes again, luxuriating in the moment and all things Steve Harrington...then it hit you.

All of the other senses got to you first—touch and taste, and sound and sight—and now it was smell. And it wasn't what you had initially associated with Steve, that bright, citrus scent.

It was musky and sweaty and spicy and a little bit sweet. There was a heavy undertone of tobacco beneath it all.

Eddie.

"Hey kid, break time's over!" Benny hollered into the night and you pushed yourself away from Steve, stumbling over the gravel drive once again. His hands reached out for you, to pull you back or to steady you, you couldn't be sure.

You regained your footing and batted his hands away to quickly fix your rumpled uniform and wipe at your lips with the back of your hand.

"You good Honey?" Steve chuckled. "You need a minute?"

"Uhh, yeah, I'll be in there in just a second," you waved him back inside. He gave you a wink and a smug smile before he turned and headed back to the door.

Your posture went slack for a second as you tried to control your heart rate and your thoughts. And where your head should have been consumed with thoughts of Steve, instead they were filled with—

"Nope! No. No more!" You stomped your feet and gave your face a few light slaps. "No more. Bad."

You took a few deep breaths, regained your composed service persona, and headed back in.

You spotted the guys table had been cleared, so you got ready for the best part of the night.

Benny was a realist who knew how to do burgers, fries, and shakes, and outside of that, didn't push the ticket. Which meant all of the desserts came from the local bakery every afternoon. They even came pre-sliced.

The whipped cream however? Benny was a connoisseur. He boasted to everyone that had the patience to hear about it that it wasn't cool whip, it wasn't from a squeeze can. If there was whipped cream on a shake or a dessert it was fresh.

"Nothing good in life comes without a little effort," he said the first time he handed you the hand-crank-egg beater-turned-cream-whipper that was, most assuredly, older than you.

So you spent the next few minutes plating everyone's desserts, whipping the cream, and getting it all looking perfect. It might have been the end of their meal, but it was the highlight of your night.

You would take a win where you could. Because everything else felt...

"Alright guys, time for dessert?" you asked, bringing the tray to their table.

You went clockwise starting with Eddie at the head of the table.

Cherry pie for Eddie, Apple for Gareth and Dave, Cheesecake for Jeff.

"And I didn't know what you'd like Steve," you told him with a sad smile. "But just let me know what sounds good and I can go grab it for you."

You were about to start putting dollops of whipped cream on everyone's dessert when Eddie pushed his plate further out from him.

"I didn't ask for Cherry," he said with a sniff.

Everything went quiet.

"Uh," Dave looked at the other guys at the table. "Cherry is your favorite man."

"I don't know, I'm not in a cherry pie mood," Eddie dismissed. He looked up at you "Can I get cheesecake instead? No whipped cream."

"S-sure," you smiled.

You were about to grab the cherry pie from the table to bring it back when Steve reached out and pulled it towards him.

"I'll just take this one," he reasoned. "Cherry actually is my favorite, and I am definitely in a cherry pie mood."

Eddie laughed.

"Whatever you say Harrington," he teased with a roll of his eyes. "Guess you have to get an extra long run in tomorrow if you're indulging so much. Mr. Star Athlete over here."

The

"I'm not gonna say no to cherry pie," Steve shrugged then looked at you. "Can I get extra cream on mine honey?"

He winked at you and you felt your face heating up, but you kept your mouth shut. You went around piping the whipped cream on everyone else's desserts, then ran back to the kitchen to get Eddie's.

As soon as the door swung shut behind you, you started to feel sick.

Something was wrong...

It was just off, you'd been feeling it all night. But you couldn't put a finger on it until now.

It was Eddie...

He was still his funny self...for the most part. But just like the other day at Family Video, he just seemed to be operating on a different frequency. And you wondered for a second if maybe it was you...or maybe it was Steve...maybe the fact that Steve was here and he wasn't...being very discreet with his affections. Neither were you, if you were being honest.

Was he...angry? Jealous?

He was the one to invite Steve out in the first place, so it seemed. Something just didn't make sense...

Steve had to admit that he was having fun.

It had barely been a few days of being Eddie Munson, but it was great. He spent most of the weekend with the kids learning the basics of DnD and putting together some things for a campaign.

He still didn't really get the whole game part, actually. But spending time with the kids? He wouldn't say no.

Having to go to school again wasn't...the greatest. Especially when all of the teachers seemed to have it out for Eddie. Steve just...started paying a little more attention, stopped being a general menace during class. He dug deep to remember some of the coursework from last year...and vaguely wondered how much Eddie didn't pay attention in class in the first place. Steve was not a model student and he could still remember this stuff, so he figured Eddie should be getting an A+ in all of his classes he was repeating now for a second time.

He was sorely mistaken.

Eddie's friends were also...pretty nice too, he had to admit. He had never really given the Hellfire Club the time of day when he was still at Hawkins High, aside from the obvious, but they were actually pretty nice guys.

The music though? It had been the highlight of his week so far.

Steve hadn't ever really understood what the big whoop the theater kids got performing but it was an adrenaline rush, something he hadn't felt for months since he was no longer a star athlete. He hadn't even been playing the guitar but the high of being on that raised platform, having the lights in his eyes, having his heart beat in time with the drum. He hammed it up a bit on the stage once he felt confident enough, like he had seen in one concert or another.

It wasn't the kind of music he liked, really, but he could get used to it if only to chase that rush.

And Steve had felt like a king again when Jeff had clapped him on the shoulder at the end of the set and excitedly gushed on that being the first time he had ever fully landed some solo or another.

Except..."Eddie" hadn't nailed the solo. Eddie had.

And as infectious as the celebration was, it made him feel a little guilty that Eddie couldn't even properly celebrate what must have been an exciting moment. Instead he just sauntered out from the little alcove they had set up and watched Steve take the credit for his accomplishments.

Steve went through the motions, just like they had agreed on, for the rest of the night.

They went to Benny's with "Steve" in tow at "Eddie's" insistence—he couldn't be left alone with Eddie's friends, he just knew he would fuck something up and give it all away—and had their late night bites.

And you were there, laughing and chatting and doting on all of the guys, especially "Steve." Even though it sucked watching you kiss his cheek, knowing it was really Eddie inside…it was nice to know that he had something to look forward to once he got back into his own body.

Something real. Something he thought he had with Nancy.

Now that the remnants of dessert were pretty much over and the guys were just shooting the shit until Benny kicked them out, Steve wandered across the restaurant to the old jukebox to pick out some music.

He briefly wondered what the response would be if “Eddie” picked something like Billy Joel. He couldn't give less of a shit though. "Eddie" might not like it but Steve was a little tired of metal after hearing it all night, after all.

"Hey Eddie?" your voice came from behind him and he turned to face you.

"Yeah, hey...uh...sweetheart," he gave you an easy smile. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok," you explained. “You seem…I dunno, kinda off tonight.”

“What?” Steve faltered. He seemed off? How? If you could tell…could the others?

”Yeah you didn’t…want your regular order, you didn’t want pie,” you shrugged. “Didn’t even want whipped cream on your cheesecake.”

Shit.

How was it that he could flawlessly fake his way through a guitar solo, but not this?

"I...uh...," he started hesitantly, wracking his brain for an excuse. He dug deep, deeper than he thought was possible, and he came up with...

Dinner with his parents. His father pushing away a plateful of food. His mother looking tired and bored.

"Sometimes people's tastes change," he finished.

It was a painful answer for him to give...but he didn't think you and Eddie were close enough for your expression to crumple the way it did. It probably wasn't the kind of answer Eddie would give to a friend—he had seen how protective he had been over them even before this whole fiasco—but if it meant getting you off his back, he would easily do something that would push you away.

"You know I've been worried about you," you stared. "The other day, outside of Family Video. It was so incredibly scary. And if you're having a tough time..."

"Uh, yeah," Steve folded his arms across his chest awkwardly. "Sorry about that. It was just...just a bad high. I'm ok now. No need to worry."

"Ok," you nodded hesitantly. Steve thought you would just turn on your heel and walk away.

But you didn't.

“Listen I know we’re not…super close or anything,” you hesitated. Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded for you to continue. “I just…I want you to know you aren’t alone.”

“Thanks, uh, I appreciate that,” he nodded and smiled tightly.

"And if there is something going on, you can trust me."

"Of course."

"You know," you paused and looked down at your hands. It was several beats of you taking deep breaths and looking down at your hands, and Steve wondered if you were waiting for some kind of response...or thinking the right words to say next. You glanced up and frowned. "I had a-a c-crush on you in high school."

His heart dropped in his chest and suddenly it felt like Nancy all over again. Telling him that she didn't love him, telling him that it was over, that their relationship was fake, that she didn't even know she was ready to be in a relationship. Only to show up with Jonathan Byers to the Sadie Hawkins dance a few weeks later.

Steve thought everything was working out so well with you. He watched you...kiss his cheek.

Were you planning on breaking up with him?

He wanted to lash out, like a wild animal, tell you all of the things he wishes he could have said to Nancy.

Except...

Except he wasn't Steve Harrington at that moment, he was Eddie Munson.

And you weren't confessing your feelings in a way like someone with a crush would. You didn't look happy or excited. You didn't even really look like your usual sweet and kind self. You looked conflicted.

Because, he realized, he did watch you kiss his cheek. He, Steve, watched you kiss "Steve's" cheek.

If you weren't here to tell "Eddie" that you were breaking up with "Steve" to be with him, then what were you doing?

"I-I mean, we both did," you backtracked with a little laugh and Steve frowned. "Me and Terry. You remember Terry right? I mean, of course you do."

Steve didn't know who Terry was, but "Eddie" would.

"Of course I do."

""Right," you smiled. "Anyway, we both had a crush on you. And there was this time...I don't know, you don't want to hear about this."

"You're dating Steve now," he pointed out. "Why are you telling me this? Why are you telling me that you—"

"I guess," you interrupted him but hesitated again. "You seemed pretty lonely last year, all the times we talked. Even if they weren't...talks? Just small talk. But...after Mickey left for college and you stayed behind—"

That's right, Mickey Caldwell...and his sister Terry...

"--well you have the band and all...but...no one even wanted to be your partner in class but me. And now...you have to do it again and I'm sure it's even harder now."

Steve was catching on.

You weren't there to tell "Eddie" that you were breaking up with "Steve" to be with him. You were just being a good friend. Because even though Eddie had his group of misfit friends...

He was lonely.

Steve knew the feeling. Aside from Robin and the kids...he really didn't have anyone around either. He had just been thinking about how nice it was to spend time with Eddie and his friends after all.

Steve had been jealous that Eddie was spending all of this time with the kids...taking them away from Steve, when he was just as lonely as Steve was...if not more so.

It gave him an idea...

"So," you broke Steve from his thoughts. "If you ever...want to talk. I'm here for you. You have me, always, if ever you want."

You smiled then. Bright and hopeful.

"Well, thanks, sweetheart," he nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I appreciate it...really...it's very nice of you. You're a really good friend."

He didn't see—didn't notice—how your smile fell as he walked past you to get back to the table with the rest of the guys.

Eddie walked into the familiar darkness of the Harrington house, a good exhaustion settling in his bones as he trudged up the stairs and into his bedroom.

He went through the motions of getting ready for bed. with a peaceful smile on his face. It had been a good day, the likes of which he really hadn’t felt in a long time. If ever.

The show at the Hideout then dinner at Benny’s. Dancing with you, kissing you, and holding you in his arms.

He could see your smile in his mind’s eye clear as day.

He didn’t want to delude himself into thinking it was love or…or happiness…it was just joy. Plain and simple. And it brought him so much comfort, knowing he could be the one to provide that for you.

Once he was in bed though, and he replayed specific moments over again, that comfort soon faded.

He tried to sleep, he really did.

But every thought he had, he thought of you. Looking perfect in your little uniform. Your laugh as you spoke to everyone, the special attention you gave him. You looked at him the way he always wanted you to.

You moaned the way he could only ever have imagined when he kissed your neck. It was filthy and still ringing in his ears hours later.

He’d wanted to touch you, just like he did in his dream that morning and it was even nicer than he had imagined.

The only thing that would have made it better was if he was in his own body. If it was him, Eddie Munson, that you were looking at and feeling things for and moaning for.

It was with all of that and at the reminder of the dream that he had been so rudely pulled from that morning, that Eddie started getting hot under the collar.

It wasn’t about sex, really; it was intimacy. And that’s what he wanted more than anything. The closeness with you. To know you. To be with you.

He closed his eyes and imagined your smile directed at him again, the way you put your hand on his shoulder when you asked if everyone was alright, and then fixed his hair a little bit when you went to leave.

His hair…he’d always been sensitive about it and even in this other body…in his own body…giving it a tug always helped get his motor running.

Eddie reached up and gave Steve’s hair an experimental tug, the short few days not nearly enough for him to be used to the difference in length and texture. It felt crunchy from all the product he had put in and it immediately felt uncomfortable on his fingers.

No touching the hair, noted.

He vaguely wondered, were his nerves on fire because this body was sensitive and aroused and receptive to your attention. Or was it because he, Eddie Munson, resided inside.

Only one way to find out.

He palmed himself over the comforter, then over his sweats, but it wasn’t enough.

Eddie didn’t hesitate to strip himself of his sweats and the suffocating briefs, and he propped the pillows behind him in a more comfortable way so he could…well so he could watch if he wanted to.

Right now he just wanted to imagine. To feel.

The thought of touching himself had vaguely crossed his mind the other day, after he’d jumped into a cold shower shortly after he’d woken up with morning wood. He wondered if that was crossing a line though. Steve’s dick…was just a dick. Just like his dick was a dick. The same but different. And he’d seen different ones before and yeah some were weird or different sized…did it matter?

If Eddie thought about it from a mechanical sense…a car was a car, no matter who the owner was, or how cautious or rough the driver was…and even two cars of the same make and model could have their very unique quirks…

As long as everything worked and you got from Point A to Point B right?

So he closed his eyes and imagined.

You were there, of course, back outside of Benny’s. He was making you laugh and twirling you around, just like he had earlier that night. Watching your little uniform skirt balloon out just the slightest bit. It wasn’t ruffly or anything, just a standard waitress uniform with a straight skirt.

It didn’t take much touching to get him fully hard; he’d spent enough time exploring to know what he liked so he just let the feelings guide him in this new body.

He licked his palm several times then spit in his hand before he held the shaft loosely. He gave it a few loose strokes before he tightened his grip a little and twisted, hissing at the sweet friction.

But this was his fantasy, so your uniform could be anything. Flowier, shorter, enough to see the frilly lace edge of your panties when he twirled you and the skirt flared.

“Didn’t know you were trying to turn this sweet moment into a peep show,” you giggled at him and swatted at his chest as he pulled you into his chest to rock together with him.

“I dunno honey,” he sighed. “I think I would be seeing more than just some lace if this was a peep show.”

“Well, what did you have in mind, big boy?”

The hand that had been resting near his head immediately went down to cup and squeeze his balls, and his throat got tighter as he held in a strangled moan. He wasn’t…too sure if he liked it all that much…but he was positive that he didn’t dislike it. He could make himself grow to like it if he needed to.

He stilled the stroking to run his fingers over the head; a favorite little move of his where he pivoted his wrist, letting the joints in his fingers run over the tip and around the head of his cock, hitting all of his sensitive spots in varying intervals. It wasn’t the same, his fingers weren’t as long now, as he noted while he was playing the guitar earlier.

Regardless, pleasure still surged through him, so it got the job done.

“No peeking,” you whispered against his lips and you covered his eyes with his hands. He’d asked for your panties and you’d agreed without hesitation. If this wasn’t a dream, he would never have been that lucky. He chuckled as your hands pulled away from his and it took everything in him not to look through his fingers at the sound of the rustling of your uniform.

Suddenly your hands were on the waist of his jeans, working the button open and the zipper downwards.

“Honey, what are you doing?” he teased. “You being naughty?” He just about pulled his hands away from his eyes and you snatched your hands away from him.

“Nooo,” you sing-songed. “No looking yet, I’ll tell you when.”

The ache for him to chase his release was different than he was used to. The best way to describe what he usually felt was…dulcet…smooth…it danced along his nerve endings and made him want more. Drove him to do more, to explore more. A siren’s song to tug and twist and tease until he was floating. But now it was almost…primordial. It leached into his skin and deep into his bones; a hefty, cloying need that would grip his entire being whole and drag him into the depths of the earth itself if it could.

It was a delicious contrast, the difference between the softness of your hand wrapped around him and the slight drag from your panties as you used them to help get him off.

You spit on his tip and let it mingle with his precum, let it slide over the sensitive skin.

Eddie spit in his hand again, trying to achieve that feeling that his imagination conjured up but was just outside of the corporeal.

“Do you like it?” you asked and he could hear the feral grin in your voice.

“I like it,” he moaned.

“Do you like me?”

“I love you,” he said breathlessly. “Fuck, I would love you so if you just let me.”

He was close, it was euphoric. His nerves exploding, synapses firing as he twisted his hand around the head just so, squeezed his balls again, and then the base of his cock.

“Ok you can look now.”

And he did, directly into those mischievous, knowing eyes of yours as you looked right back at him.

“Cum for me Steve.”

And…he couldn’t…he couldn’t…

Eddie opened his eyes and stared around the room–a room that wasn’t his–looked down at the hands that weren’t his, touching the cock that wasn’t his.

Because as much as Eddie could simply…compartmentalize and rationalize for however long he had been in his little fantasy…

It was Steve, it was all Steve. All you wanted right now was Steve Harrington and not Eddie Munson. You probably would never want Eddie.

And maybe one day–if he was still cursed to live like this, if he was stuck in this body until the end of his life–he could live with the fact that you wanted Steve.

But as his pleasure evaded him and all of the sad thoughts returned, he simply couldn’t escape the simple fact that his honey didn’t want him…she wanted someone else.

The guys had left shortly after your...interaction with Eddie.

Your confession.

The sweet kiss Steve had given you before they had left was...wonderful. But it was like the glue holding together the broken vase on that one episode of the Brady Bunch.

The feelings were building, the pressure too much, and before long...you sprung a leak and the reality of what you had done hit you. It had you shaking. Benny must have known something was wrong; he had asked you all through your closing tasks if you were alright.

"You good kid?" He asked. "Cuz I can finish up if you wanna get home. I know today's your busy day."

Truth be told, he always asked you that, but the extra edge of concern to his voice was a dead giveaway that you weren't doing a good job of holding it together.

“Nah Ben,” you smiled meekly. “I’m ok. Tired. But I’ll make it. Thanks.”

You started hyperventilating by the time you got into your car.

“Stupid, you’re so stupid,” you muttered to yourself. “How could you tell him?”

You weren’t even sure what possessed you to say anything, what compelled you to stop and say those dumb words.

You know, I had a crush on you.

What did you expect him to say...confess that he had a crush on you too?

Declare his undying love for you?

Instead he just called you a friend.

By the time you reached the 5th street intersection, you rationalized that, at the very least, you hadn’t mentioned that you still had a crush on Eddie. And as you pulled into your driveway, you were panicking again because…well what did this mean now that Steve was spending time with Eddie?

Would he say anything? God, did Steve already know?

It really was nice that Steve was hanging out with Eddie...they seemed to get along well enough. And yeah Eddie had the guys but…well, it wasn’t a stretch to say that Eddie could use as many friends on his side as he could get. He always put on a brave face but that didn’t mean he never felt lonely. Or alone. Stuck in a place he desperately didn’t want to be.

You just wanted to tell him it was ok. That he had you if he want—

"God, stop," you slammed your hands against the steering wheel as though it would force the thoughts from your brain. As though it would stop your heart from aching. "Stop thinking about him, you have to stop thinking about him."

Because the more you thought about Eddie, the more you’d want to comfort him.

And the more you wanted to comfort him, the more you’d want to hold him and kiss him.

And he’d made it plenty clear tonight that he didn’t see you as anything more than Mickey’s Kid Sister’s Silly Friend.

Or at least that’s just how it felt.

Another busybody townie who couldn’t mind their own business, who had to offer words of encouragement, who pitied him.

No. Not that. He didn't give people who pitied him the time of day. What if...

Bile rose in your throat as you came to a realization.

What if he didn’t just see you as another silly townie? What if he had known? He had known you had a crush on him all along, and he had taken pity on you. Because you were Terry's friend, he didn't want you to get hurt. And now that you were with Steve...he couldn't let you keep your hopes up anymore? You had a real boyfriend now.

That was it...

He was just...being nice to you all this time.

And that...hurt.

The realization of all that wasted time. Years spent thinking...hoping...

You made it into your house, went through the motions of getting ready for bed, and numbly said goodnight to your mom as your mind raced and raced and your heart broke even more.

It wasn't until you were tucked into bed, head filled with sad thoughts of every time you thought that maybe...just maybe Eddie liked you back, that you remembered.

Your diary.

Some silly old pink think that Terry had gotten you for your birthday years ago. You didn't write in it too often—you hadn't ever really been a diary person—certainly not recently. It was tucked into your nightstand underneath magazines and random junk from your school bag.

You sat up, turned the lamp on, and opened the drawer. You dug through the junk until you found it.

You flipped indiscriminately through pages filled with doodles and random thoughts. Until you came across entries from your freshman year at Hawkins High.

Silly things about class schedules and how mean Mrs. O'Donnell was and how you were not good in geometry.

And then...hearts and stars and flowers and one name repeated over and over and over...

Eddie Munson. Edward Munson. Mrs. Edward Munson.

You ran your fingers over the indentations your pen made in the pages as you read your own silly words.

Eddie invited us to sit with them at lunch.Terry said no, that she wanted to sit closer to the cheerleaders. Maybe they would be nicer to us if they actually knew we existed.

Eddie held open the door for me when I passed him in the hallway.

Eddie got his driver's license. He and his uncle fixed up this van and now he's driving Mickey and Terry to school. He asked if I wanted a ride too, said he would let me ride shotgun on Fridays. He's so sweet.

Eddie called me sweetheart today. I swear my heart stopped. I am dead. I have died.

Terry said she has a crush on someone but she won't tell me who it is. I really want to tell her that I have a crush on Eddie. Maybe if she knew, she could say nice things to him about me.

She likes him too. She wants him to ask her to prom. She keeps asking who my crush is and of course I can't tell her. Because he would obviously choose her over me, who am I kidding?

It's the last entry in the diary and the page is warped from old tears and scribbled over with pen.

After that day, you buried the diary in your nightstand. You kept your thoughts to yourself. Writing them down made them real and scary. Instead you let your secrets fester and grow and rot inside of your heart.

You didn't realize you'd started crying until fresh tears started hitting the already-warped page.

"Shit," you scrubbed at your eyes for a second and then stared at the journal as your throat got tight.

Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson.

His name written over and over and over again. Obsessively.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

Just like Steve had been with Nancy. Always talking about her and thinking about her.

All of your wasted feelings. From both of you.

But Steve had moved on. And so could you.

You ripped the warped page out of the diary and tore it to pieces. And then the next page. And the next one. Over and over until your thoughts and feelings were ripped to confetti on your bedspread.

No more.

It was time to move on from Eddie Munson.

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#eddie munson x reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #Steve harrington fluff #Steve harrington angst #Eddie munson smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #Eddie munson stranger things #Steve harrington stranger things #freaky friday au #god this took forever but im so happy with where it landed #holy shit how are they all gonna fix this now

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lizstory · 1 year

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Betrayal

Ethan Landry x fem reader (Stu Machers niece)

warnings- Scream 6 Spoilers! death

summary- Ethan wasn't the person you thought he was. He was your boyfriend, the loving, sweet, awkward boy you met when you came to New York, but that wasn't the case. He was someone else, something else.

wordcount- 1,400

A/n- I want to write more Ethan stories. some preghostface and some during ghostface killing. I also will be wrtiting more marvel characters so if you have any request please leave some!

To keep the last name Macher was a mistake. You had never thought about it before till this very moment. Standing before Quinn and Ethan, or so you thought, who Ethan was. He was your loving boyfriend there for you when people approached you asking if your uncle was still alive and if you would turn out just like he did. Stu Macher had died way before you were born, so you never got to meet him, but you did take an interest in learning about him. He was family, after all, despite being a serial killer. THE serial killer that partly inspired the rest of the Ghostface killers.

"Maybe my mother was right," You sighed, closing your laptop.

Ethan rubbed his hand up and down your back, soothing your pain. He knew about your past no matter how fast you tried to escape it. You trusted him. He placed a soft kiss on your temple. "Don't be too hard on yourself, baby."

You rubbed your face. All you wanted to know was why your uncle did it all. He and Billy Loomis created a world where everyone had to double-take over their shoulder to ensure no one was following them. Was he indeed just a psychotic like your mother described? She always hated when you took an interest in what happened all those years ago, saying that becoming a killer runs in the family.

"He was just a sick fuck. Doing all of this just for fun" Your heart ached, he was a killer, but he was your uncle. You created a version of him in your mind, where he was alive and well. He was the fun uncle that took you to eat a shit ton of junk food and always got you in and out of trouble.

Ethan pulled you closer by his side, your head leaning on his shoulder. "You aren't like him, love."

"Y/n right now is not the time to zone out!" Sam yelled

Quinn burst laughing, and the knife pointed at you. "And the funny part is that you believed Ethan got with you because he loved you."

You stared at him. This whole time your eyes were glued onto him. He didn't smile when his gaze met yours. You had no idea what to feel at the moment. You were mad that he did this but wanted to burst into tears because, finally, someone knew the true you and loved you.

"His favorite was Stu Macher, so you don't even know how excited he was to find out that the girl that was crushing on him was actually related to The Stu Macher" Quinn was satisfied with the fear in your eyes. She needed everyone in that room to feel the pain she was feeling. "He was so fascinated to hear about your family's details. You took him in and trusted him with everything."

Your eyes prickled with water. They found their way back to Ethan. "Fuck you"

"You all deserve this. You killed our fucking brother!" Quinn screamed

Realization hit everyone. This wasn't the family that they pretended to be. This was a grieving family, and if they were after Tara and Sam, their brother's death had to do with what happened to them in Woodsboro.

"Your Richie's family," Tara whispered.

Sam stared at Bailey. His eyes filled with anger. His son was killed, and he was standing before his murder. "He was so pathetic," Sam whispered, gun pointing at her head. "He made his girlfriend do all the killing, then cried like a baby when I slit his throat," she spat with venom.

Bailey was inches from pulling the trigger, but Sam jabbed the knife in his hip. Quinn ran to help her dad. You tackled her to the ground before she could reach your friend. You pulled the knife out of your back pocket—the knife your uncle used to kill all his victims. Quinn's knife fell out of her grip when you tackled her.

"My mother always said it was in my blood to become a killer," You whispered. The knife was high up in the air and came crashing down to the middle of her chest. Before it made contact, arms were wrapped around your waist and pulled you up, then backward.

"Y/n!" Tara yelled

You wanted to reach out to her hand and have her come and help you, but she would already be occupied. "Tara, watch out!" You screamed before being pulled behind a curtain.

Ethan let go of his grip. You quickly turned around, and the restraint on the knife's handle only tightened, finally being face-to-face and alone with Ethan. He didn't run to attack. He didn't even take a stand to protect any vulnerable areas. You were relieved he wasn't attacking. You had no idea if you could even go through with hurting him. He was sick and used you to learn about his favorite fucking killer, but he was still the loving boyfriend you had all those moments with.

"You have to understand why we are doing this" His voice was shaky.

"I don't" You wanted to yell at him but also wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and wake up from this nightmare. "My brother is gone because Richie was so involved in scary movies, but you don't see me becoming a killer."

Ethan stayed silent. He wasn't the only one grieving the loss of an older brother. He never understood why you didn't get revenge, why you didn't crave the feeling of the blood being splattered all over you as your victim screamed for help, but they'd be too late.

You drop your knife on the ground as your tears fall down your face. "I trusted you."

Ethan stepped closer, but you only moved back. He stayed still, knowing he couldn't hold you anymore. "What I felt was real."

"Fuck you, Ethan" Your voice couldn't even be at its average volume no matter how hard you tried. "I believed you loved me. That performance deserved a fucking Oscar" You wiped the tears that screamed down your face. It felt wrong to wipe them away. Ethan always did it for you.

"Baby, I did love you. I loved you so much" He stepped closer again, and you didn't step away this time. It looked like your body was fighting itself from going to him. He walked in front of you, his figure hovering over you. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up. "I still love you. You can walk away, and nothing will happen to you. We can live the life we were building together"

It sounded nice, but it could never happen. Ethan and his family hurt too many of your friends. He made a wound that could never be recovered. You placed a hand on his jaw, pulling his face in closer. He stared at your lips. Was this you accepting his offer? You closed the gap. His hand snaked to your waist while your hand was placed onto his shoulder, stabilizing your balance. The kiss was deep, salvia connecting your mouths in the moments you pulled away.

"I'll love you forever."

That was the last thing Ethan heard. The next moment, him falling to his knees. He looked up, tears streaming down your face and a knife in your hand. When had you grabbed your knife off the floor? He looked down and saw his hip was impaled. You fell to your knees, holding his weight in your arms. He didn't try to attack you too. He could never hurt you like that. You were too pretty to be harmed. He just sat there, finding comfort in his last moments being in your arms, the arms of the one person he loved. Your heart was pure, and he would forever hate himself for tainting it with this situation.

He strained a smile, your sobs hurt him, but he liked to think about what kind of life he would've had with you if none of this had ever happened. If Ghostface wasn't real and his family wasn't influenced by it. Would he still have met you? He would have. Quinn was wrong. He wasn't with you just because you were Stu Macher's niece. He was with you because you were you.

You placed his body on the ground. His breathing was gone, and his heart stopped. He was gone, and the blood was on your hands now. You wanted to stay there. Crying into your dead boyfriend's chest, praying that he would magically come back and tell you this was just a joke. At least then, he would hug you and tell you everything was ok. You forced yourself away from his body. He wasn't the only killer, and your two friends were still left alone with them.

#ethan landry #scream franchise #scream #scream 6 #fanfic #scream fanfic #ethan #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #x reader #reader insert #scream 6 ethan #ethan landry imagine #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 imagines

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playbucky · 1 year

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Boundaries

You have always been a family friend of the Berzatto’s, through thick and thin but ultimately, you’ll reach your breaking point. Word Count – 2.3k. Characters – Reader, Carm, Syd, Richie, Fak and Claire.

‘What’s your problem Syd?’ Carm asked, she lifted her head and got ready to turn. ‘You.’ You cut in, everyone turned and looked at you. Surprised that you spoke out in front of everyone ‘What?’ His head whipped to you. ‘You heard me.’ You lowered the hammer you were working with, so you weren’t tempted to use it. ‘Y/N.’ He said lowly, a warning. ‘Do you want me to go into detail?’ You quizzed, he tilted his head. ‘Please.’ ‘Two months ago you were all about this place, let’s make it bigger, go to uncle and get more money to give this place a facelift.’ You started, his intense eyes looked at you, ‘Suddenly you’re spending all your time with Claire, at parties, parties? Which you refused to come to my twenty first because you didn’t like it.’ You pointed out to him, Richie watched the pair of you amused, knowing you were going to kick him in the balls. ‘So, what do you what me to do?’ Carm questioned, you raised an eyebrow. ‘Pull more weight here.’ You gestured your hands to the open space, the familiar kitchen and front of shop no longer existed. ‘I am.’ He said as he stepped closer to you, you scoffed at his attempt to try and intimidate you. ‘Carm you left at lunch time it’s now almost midnight.’ You pointed out, the clock still positioned on the wall backed you up. ‘It sounds like you want me to stop dating Claire.’ He accused you, your jaw bounced. ‘Did I say that?’ You asked, you stepped closer so your chests were almost touching. ‘I think you’re jealous of what we have.’ He added, you scoffed. ‘Yeah Carm, I’m jealous you’ve got girl.’ ‘Y/N.’ ‘Pull your shit together Carm, help out more or -,’ You trailed off, you didn’t want to speak it out loud. ‘Or what?’ He questioned, head cocked to the side. ‘I quit.’ You lifted your hands up. ‘Go ahead, not like your part of this family anyway.’ He replied, everyone fell silent, no one tried to interrupt, all anger dropped from your face as you watched him. ‘Go fuck yourself Carmen.’ You scalded him. Everyone remained silent as you marched over to the small area unaffected by dust, everyone’s jackets and bags were piled there. Quickly you untied your apron and rolled it around your wrist. ‘Cou -,’ Richie started, everyone watched as he ran his hands through his hair before he yanked it. ‘Shit, I know.’ ‘Y/N.’ He called as he turned to you, you ignored him and continued to stuff your apron into your bag. ‘Y/N.’ You turned to him just as he reached out to cup your elbow ‘Touch me Carm and swear to God you won’t work for a week.’ You spat, he held up his hands, his blue eyes wide with worry and regret watched as you grabbed your jacket. ‘I’m sorry.’ He said, you stopped, his eyes brightened thinking he had won you over. ‘I’m surprised you know that word.’ You said before you pushed the door open.

‘Y/N.’ ‘Carmen.’ You said, neither of backed down until his eyes flicked away. ‘I made a mistake.’ Carm said, you raised an eyebrow. ‘So, it does work.’ You commented, you still hadn’t moved away from the door. ‘What?’ He asked. ‘Your brain.’ You replied, the corner of his lips jumped. ‘I didn’t realise how much it was affecting us, affecting you.’ He pointed out, you shook your head. ‘Wasn’t affecting me Carm, understand that, I’m used to the bullshit that follows the Berzatto family but the partners aren’t.’ ‘You came in and flipped everything up and then you and Syd, god Carm, you’ve left her in charge of everything then come back and say no to everything she’s knocked off.’ You reminded him of what he had done. ‘I know, I know.’ He breathed out, he continued to rubbed his fingers around his wrist. ‘Do you? Or are you trying to make me forgive you?’ ‘I need you back at the restaurant.’ He stated, you pursed your lips and nodded. ‘No.’ ‘No?’ ‘Unless I hear from Syd that you’ve apologised to her and are helping her for at least a week I won’t be in.’ You told him, shoulders dropped as his eyes darted across your face. ‘Y/N.’ ‘Carm, I’m setting boundaries.’ You said, ‘something you should be doing.’ ‘So, I’ve to apologise for having a girlfriend?’ He asked, you inhaled. ‘No, you know what,’ you held a hand up as you stopped your thoughts, ‘you think I’m pissed or jealous that you have someone but I’m not, you’ve been in love with her forever and I’m glad your together but please don’t focus on her and no one else.’ ‘I’m not.’ He replied quickly. ‘Carm, you’ve found someone you love, that’s good,’ you reached a hand out and held onto his forearm, ‘But don’t have a fun time with her whilst the bridges you’ve built burn.’ ‘And Carm, it needs to come out your mouth, not your gesture. Okay?’ You asked. ‘Okay.’ He nodded and you gave him a small smile before you shut the door, he listened as you slid the lock back over. ‘You fixed it cous?’ Richie quizzed when Carm dropped back into the passenger seat. ‘Yeah.’ He said, he ran his hands through his hair before he dropped his head back. ‘You don’t sound sure.’ ‘I’ve to apologise to Syd.’ He said, Richie’s eyes widened. ‘Oh shit.’ ‘At least it’s not gonna be hard, I mean, I apologised to Y/N, right?’ Carmen asked, Richie nodded his head slowly. ‘Only cause you’ve known her your whole life.’ Richie told him. ‘Richie.’ Carm said, Richie shook his head. ‘Nah come on, attached at the hip, that’s all I remember is if one of you was someone where the other would be to.’ He said, the visions of the pair of them running wild. ‘Everyone was surprised that nothing happened between you.’ He added, Carm’s head snapped around to him. ‘What?’ ‘Come on man.’ Richie twisted in the seat to look at him, ‘you were both smitten on each other, think you still are but your both too pussy to say anything or you’re just accepting it now, dunno.’ He replied as he shrugged and started the car.

‘Y/N!’ Fak almost screamed, your brows raised as the door shut behind you, keeping the frozen Chicago air out. ‘You’re back.’ He said, he walked over and wrapped his arms around you, he tightly squeezed as he chuckled. Richie appeared next, he smiled at you as you took in the black suit that was tailored to him, you raised an eyebrow at him. ‘You’re all acting like I’ve been gone for months.’ You stated, they nodded almost in sync. ‘Feels like it.’ Fak commented, you patted him on the back. ‘So, he grew balls huh?’ Richie asked, you raised a shoulder. ‘For now.’ ‘He’s in the back.’ Richie said, you nodded. ‘Thanks, you look good.’ You said, the black suit did wonders for him, he smiled widely and stood taller. He was confident in it. ‘I know I do baby.’ He commented, you smiled at saluted at him before entered to the back. Syd, Tina and Marcus all lifted their heads, smiles took over their faces as you gave them a wave. You walked into the small locker area and placed your bag and jackets into one of them. You pulled the apron on, the wraps tight around your waist as you walked back out, you took in the new starts that were furiously chopping vegetables. ‘You’re back chef.’ Tina said, you nodded. ‘I am.’ You replied. ‘Where do you need me?’ You asked as you turned to Syd. ‘We’re all good for now, maybe go see chef?’ Syd slyly replied, you narrowed your eyes at her. ‘Did he completely apologise? Not just rubbing his chest?’ You quizzed, she nodded. ‘Yeah, last night before we left.’ Syd told you, you rubbed your lips together as you nodded. ‘Good.’ ‘Carm.’ You knocked your knuckles against the door. ‘You’re back.’ He seemed surprised, you leaned against the door frame. ‘You apologised, I tend to stick to my words.’ You commented, he nodded. ‘Know you do but it seemed like I pissed you off too much.’ He stated, you raised a shoulder. ‘Used to it.’ ‘You shouldn’t have to be though, you’ve put up with it all your life.’ He said, you narrowed your eyes at him as you looked down at him. ‘Hate to break it to you Carmy but it comes with the Berzatto’s.’ You reminded him. ‘Thank you.’ ‘For what?’ You asked, an eyebrow raised. ‘Putting up with my shit.’ He replied, you dipped your head. ‘I heard you were back but had to see for myself.’ Sugar said, you smiled and turned to her, your eyes widened. ‘Shit Sugar, you’ve popped over the week.’ You took in the bump that was poking out from the cardigan that she wore. ‘Oh, I know.’ Sugar ran her hands over her bump.

‘Get in here and sit, Carm move.’ You commanded, you placed a hand on Nat’s lower back and guided her over as Carm stepped to the side. ‘You should be off your feet.’ ‘Kinda busy.’ She said, both eyebrows raised. ‘I can see but you’re meant to be bossing them around, you know that right?’ You asked her, she glared at you. ‘I’m fine.’ She said, it must’ve been comically to her as both you and Carm’s brows shot up together. ‘Okay, I’m not but it’s nothing unusual.’ She corrected herself. ‘Nat you’re growing a baby, a fucking creation of life.’ Your hands motioned to her belly. ‘Stop swearing.’ ‘Oh, I’m sorry, want me to sing Mozart to them?’ You asked, she glared at you as her hand rubbed over her stomach. ‘You’ve been hanging out with the boys too much.’ She commented, her eyes darted to Carmen. ‘You ate anything?’ You quizzed, ignoring her statement. ‘No yet.’ ‘I’ll make you something and then you can give me a rundown of what needs to be completed.’ You told her, she nodded. ‘What you feeling?’ You quizzed, her brows furrowed then her face lit up. ‘An omelette, been craving it since Syd made me one?’ ‘That I can do.’ ‘You’re avoiding me still.’ He commented, he stood close to you as you gathered the ingredients you needed. ‘Carm, no I’m not, I’m getting Sugar food and then I’m gonna start on prep, the way it was before.’ You told him. ‘I don’t want it the way it was before.’ He breathed out. ‘What?’ You quizzed. ‘I- can we speak after?’ He asked, you stopped and looked at him. ‘Yeah?’ You said, he nodded and held eye contact before he nodded again and walked away. You turned back got the stove and got to work.

‘You wanted to speak.’ You appeared next to him. ‘I’m sorry.’ He apologised again. ‘You’ve said.’ You told him, your arms crossed over your chest. ‘No, I’m sorry, I’ve been a dickhead to you almost our entire friendship and always put you way down at the bottom of the list of my priorities.’ He gave you a reason this time. ‘Not holding it against you Carm.’ ‘But you should.’ ‘You’ve loved me for the entire time I’ve known you, yet you’ve allowed me to fuck around.’ He commented, you closed your eyes briefly. ‘You realised.’ You sounded surprised. ‘Richie pointed it out.’ He said, you raised both eyebrows and sighed. ‘Carm,’ you exhaled, he looked at you, ‘I might have loved you, I know you wouldn’t return it, I got used to it and don’t expect anything back.’ You informed him ‘But I should’ve loved you.’ He said, you shook your head and dropped to his level so he would make eye contact with you, his chest started to quicken. ‘No, you shouldn’t.’ You told him, ‘Your heart wasn’t open to be mine and it won’t be, I realised that a long time ago.’ ‘But you showed me you loved me in thousands of ways but -,’ you inhaled, your hands reached up to his warm cheeks, ‘maybe in thousands of other universes we’re together, but not this one.’ ‘Y/N.’ ‘You’ve got Claire, she makes you happy, that’s all that matters.’ You informed him. ‘I don’t th-,’ He started but you shook your head. ‘You haven’t loved me and that’s fine, go give your love to her.’ You cut him off. ‘But you.’ He added, you smiled softly and tapped your fingers against the back of his neck. ‘I’ll be fine, I’ll eventually find someone.’ You told him, he continued to stare at you. ‘But we gotta go, pretty sure Claire’s waiting for you and I need me beauty sleep before tomorrow.’ You dropped your hands from his face, he continued to watch you fixed the white t-shirt. ‘Y/N.’ Claire said, you held the door for Carm to step out and lock the door. ‘Claire, nice to see you again.’ You smiled at her, she looked at Carm as he walked over to her side, an arm slipped around his waist. ‘You wanting to join us? We’re going to a small bar, found it earlier in the week.’ She offered, you gave a tight smile as your gaze bounced between the two. ‘Oh no thank you, my bed’s calling me tonight,’ you joked, ‘maybe some other time?’ You asked, she nodded and smiled enthusiastically whilst Carm only nodded. ‘I’ll see you in the morning Carm.’ You told him as you lifted your bag and walked away before he could reply. Claire watched Carm as he watched on you walk away, he only turned to her when you veered around the corner. Claire gave him a smile before she looked back to where you disappeared, then she looked at his eyes, she could see the worry. ‘You ready to go?’ Carm asked, she smiled at him and nodded.

#Carmen berzatto x reader #Reader x carmen berzatto #Carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagines #the bear x reader #reader x the bear #the bear imagines #the bear

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infernalodie · 2 years

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was wondering if you could do a tara carpenter x male reader where R is the third killer and fucks tara in the ghost face outfit

𝐑𝐱 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 || 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

"'𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥"

Inspo: Deftones - Rx Queen Radiohead - Creep

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Black!Male!reader

Summary: She was the salvation that you would never be able to have...

Warnings: Angst, slight obsession, smut, bulge kink, and even more angst

Words: 3192

DNI IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

“Y/n, get your head out of your ass.”

The harsh and cruel voice belonging to your friend made you blink and look back at the drink clasped between your warm hands. Your fingers twitched at the feeling of a water droplet touching the outside of your finger. Watching it expand and slide around the edge of your digit before dropping down the next and then the next.

It was Tara.

She was very much like the water droplet. She made you intently watch. She left a small spot on your ebony skin to stay there for as long as you wanted. She would fade out and then leave another lingering effect on you–so on and so forth. Expanding further and further until you had to acknowledge it. You loved every little bit of it.

“You need to realize that she’s going to have to die,” Amber muttered, taking a sip of her pop at the counter of the local diner in the center of Woodsboro. “So, come to terms with your feelings and then toss them out the window. Unless you are second-guessing yourself and don’t want to follow through on the plan.”

“I’m with you and Richie on this.” Your sharp words made the girl snicker in amusement. “You can’t blame me for feeling a bit of kilter because I’ve liked her since we were kids, alright? I didn’t just find my psychotic significant other on a subreddit full of creeps.”

“Watch what you say, Y/n,” Amber warned. “Keep this up, you’ll just end up on the chopping block as well.

Sighing, you grabbed a nearby napkin and dried your hands, pointing at the girl with a chuckle. “Exactly,” you said. “Fucking psycho.”

Her face twisted in distaste at your words. She wasn’t psycho. She was a fan. She was an advocate to bring back the great stab movies. Restore what once was–same as Richie. This was the only way she could see it working, so that didn’t make her a psycho. “Do I need to remind you that you decided to sign onto this as well?” She spat. “That makes you just as crazy as Richie and I.”

You scoffed, licking your lips. “Do we need to go over this again? I’m not a movie fanatic. I’m here to kill Sidney and that’s it,” you reminded the girl, who finally turned her gaze to you. “Nothing more and nothing less.” You waved your hand, arms crossing over your chest tightly as you leaned onto the counter.

Once Amber seemed to take the conversation was enough for her fill, you carefully looked over your shoulder. A couple of booths down was Tara sipping on a milkshake. The red-tinted straw tip between her lips as she talked to someone, smiling and revealing the tip of the straw she bit down on. It made you inhale sharply, continuing to watch with that unnerving sense of admiration.

Whatever she did, you believed you drank poison the minute you saw her. Her hands dripped with the substance that you savoured each waking moment. It binds you to her like a vow, a rope slowly bringing you closer and to her without a word of approval from you.

You were very conscious of these feelings. It annoyed you to a certain extent. Because when you’re laying in your room, you think of her. When you’re in class, you think of her. She invades your mind like ink to water. Bringing endless darkness to your life that could be mistaken as bad, but the darkness was your best friend. You felt content in its presence. You felt understood in its shadow. Her impact on you was monumental it broke your heart knowing she was on the list of victims to be met by yours, Amber’s, and Richie’s blades.

Blinking rapidly, you refocused your gaze on Tara and found she had already caught your gaze. Her eyebrows were sinched together in confusion and worry. You, being so lost in the beauty and unmistakable love you saw and felt from the girl, tears had begun to run down your face. Making you wipe them quickly, giving a forced smile and turning your attention back down to your drink.

But when you glanced over once more, you found Wes with her. Seeing him with her made something rise from the center of your chest and to your brain. Lips pursing together as you looked forward and rolled your shoulders back, hands tightening their grasp on the glass cup.

“Wes.” Amber removed her gaze from the text messages between her and Richie. Looking at you in question as you press your tongue to the inside of your cheek. “Wes dies first and I kill him.”

That made Amber’s lips twist into a sick and evil grin, slinging her arm around your shoulder and shaking you encouragingly. “That’s what I like to hear.”

This isn’t wrong.

You weren’t crazy.

You had a motive that was more realistic than Richie’s or Amber’s.

There was a reason for your madness. A kindling flame that was given fuel to burn brighter and larger than before. If it didn’t happen now, it was bound to happen later down the line. And if you knew that, you knew you weren’t crazy. No one with a revenge plot gets labelled “crazy”, so why should you?

But now, sitting in front of Tara who cried silently under your masked gaze, you didn’t know what was right from wrong. Your morale compass was all kinds of fucked up and she was making this more difficult than it needed to be.

Richie and Amber were somewhere in Woodsboro causing mayhem after they told you to take Tara back to Amber’s house. The original house where Billy Loomis and Stu Macher had their final showdown. Coincidentally, the same place Sidney killed your father, her friend.

Not much of that could be bothered to be thought about as you stared at Tara, who cowered in the corner of the room. Her mouth was taped over and her wrist found the same fate. You toyed with your knife, the Ghostface mask hiding the conflict in your eyes and face as you fought with yourself over what to do. They wanted to kill her and in extension, that meant you did as well. But did you? Like, really? You could care less about anyone else besides maybe Samantha, but Gale and Sidney could bite the dust. Their time had passed and it was time to bring in the new generation.

Inhaling deeply, you gripped the handle of the knife in a reverse grip and stabbed it into the floor. The sound made Tara flinch with a cry as she closed her eyes. Hearing the heavy footsteps of your combat boots until they stopped. “Tara, look at me.” Doing as she was told, Tara slowly peeled her eyes open and felt her chest tighten at the sight of you. The mask taken off and your identity is finally revealed to her. Raising your hands, you carefully reached forward and undid the tape around her wrists. “I know you are likely going to run, so I’ll tell you that I have a gun and I will use it if I have to. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

The girl could only stare, so taking her silence as an answer, you finally ripped the final bit of the tape and instantly stepped back. Tara watched you closely, pulling the tape from her lips, allowing to her inhale deeply. “What are you doing, Y/n?”

A soft laugh fell from your lips, running a hand over your cornrows and clasping your gloved hands together. Only able to shrug as you looked up at her. “Doing what I think is right,” you replied. “I want you to know that before all of this, I didn’t want to hurt anyone besides Sidney Prescott. You were the one person I wanted to get hurt through this.”

“But you allowed this!” Tara exclaimed. “You allowed Amber to kill all these people! She tried to kill me, Y/n! She tried to kill Samantha!” You felt smaller than ever before. Feeling her scrutiny and disapproval hurt a lot more than what you’d felt before. Maybe it was because you’d been only exposed to the smiles and warm Tara Carpenter. But what else were you expecting besides an angry, disgusted, and fearful Tara Carpenter?

So, taking the gun from the back of your pants, you twisted the handle towards the girl. Sniffling and leaning forward, a blank look on your face with you allowed her to take it. “Safety’s on. Flip the switch on the side and you can kill me,” you stated. “You deserve to serve justice and help your sister.”

Tara stared at you in bewilderment. That was it? You were just giving up? With everything she’s experienced in the past few days, this felt way too easy. But if she peeled the layers of the situation, of you, then she connect the dots that led to reasoning. You were her friend. Or at least, that’s what she still believed. You were a soft soul. A complex character within the friend group that made you incredibly unique to the others. There were things about you that she only knew and would never tell a soul. You were a second home to her. You loved walks in the rain when most would consider it a danger. She’s loved you since pre-school and she believes that even now, you probably felt the same. Able to feel the same things as she was because you were you. You weren’t broken like Amber.

Taking the gun cautiously, Tara saw you place your hands on your thighs and let out a strangled sigh. Swallowing the lump in your throat, looking up at her to find her holding the gun, but never lifting it. “Don’t drag this on for too long, Tara,” you said. “Amber is going to be back soon and you’ll want to be out of the house before that happens.”

The longer she stared at you, the longer she felt her own conflict. Her lips wobbled as she began to lift the pistol, before letting out a shaky sigh and letting it fall to her side. “Fuck you. Fuck you for putting me in this situation,” she whispered. “God fucking damn it. Why? Why did you have to do it? Why did you have to kill?”

Holding her gaze, you let out a grunt, looking to the ground and clasping your hands together. “I could kill her,” you started. “I could’ve killed Sidney Prescott a long time ago for killing my dad. I could kill her and just walk away without regret in my mind. But that doesn’t make it easy or change anything. I can live with it.” Lips trembling you pressed a finger to your temple. “But there’s no peace up here. The pain and knowledge I can’t bring him back continue to pound in my head. It’s either I get locked up or I put a bullet through my head. There’s no sense of meaning without-”

You stopped yourself, puffing out breaths as you avoided the girl’s gaze. Bowing your head as you sniffled and swallowed the cement in the back of your throat. “There’s no sense of meaning without you.”

Saying it out loud, finally letting it be known, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Able to breathe easier without the endless hole in your chest being alleviated with some pure. Something you hadn’t felt in a very long time. And for you to tell it to Tara made the sense of death be more accepting than it had before. Because as long as she knew and understood how you felt, then you could be plunged into the endless abyss with a smile.

But the least you expected was to feel Tara’s hands grasp your face and her lips press against yours. You melted into it without a second delay. Hand reaching up and grasping her jaw, pulling her incredibly closer as you stood to your feet, towering over her. Forcing her to painfully stand up on her tippy toes. But she couldn’t care less about the heat that invaded her body from the kiss.

“Are you sure you want this?” You asked between kisses. “After everything I’ve done?”

“If this is my last night on Earth, I want to spend it with you.” Her words sent butterflies against the inside of your chest as you kissed her.

But this wouldn’t be her last night on Earth. You wouldn’t let that happen.

Hot breaths lingered and intermingled together. Tara’s arms were coiled around you, hands finding their place on the large expanse of your back. Nails dug into the black fabric of the cloak you wore, hiding the warmth of your hot skin that she wanted to taste on her lips. And your face was masked with the Ghostface. Not by your choice of course, but it was hidden in the crook of her neck.

Your hands held her hips, groans filling her ears with her pants entering your own ears. “I love you,” she whispered. “Fuck, I love you.”

Hearing the confession only spurred you on further. An open-lipped smile etched on your face as you pounded your hips into the girl. Feeling her gasp and dig deeper into the fabric surrounding your body. “I love you too.”

Reaching down, Tara took one of your hands and placed it on her stomach. The feeling of your cock creating a small noticeable bump made your ego grow. Enabling you to press down and thrust harder and faster. Earning a cry from the girl, head rolling back.

The prickling of her release rapidly approached. The sensation of euphoria filled her bone marrow and nerves as her legs curled around your waist. Helping plunge your cock into her and the action was enough to make your own release approach.

“Fuck, Tara.” You ripped the mask off your face, pressing a kiss to her lips. You swallowed her moan, feeling her walls clamp around your cock. Finally tossing you over the edge with your hips stuttering and slamming into Tara’s. Parting her lips with a moan, resting your forehead against hers. Body shaking with Tara smiling up at you. Exhaling sharply with your hips bucking into hers. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

If life was going to be this perfect, the idea of deviating from your plan was sounding more appealing. But the happiness and bliss could only last for so long. “Y/n!” Amber’s voice could be heard downstairs. “Time to greet our guests!” You glanced at the girl, seeing the once look of desire be replaced with fear.

This wouldn’t be her last night on Earth. You wouldn’t let that happen.

“You fucker, you betrayed us!” Richie grunted, battling with you to get ahold of the pistol. Tara was hidden somewhere in the house, Samantha was laid on the floor from a knife wound, whilst Gale and Sidney were dealing with a ballistic Amber in the kitchen.

“Switching sides is a bitch, huh?” You quipped, head-butting the man and kicking him in the stomach. He fell to the floor and you scrambled for the gun but stopped when feeling a knife being plunged into your side. A yell fell from your lips as another stab was placed in your back.

Swinging your elbow back, you hit Richie in the nose and knocked him off. Reaching for the gun, you rolled onto your side and shot him in the stomach. Richie cried, falling back and collapsing against the wall, allowing you to breathe. “Fucking psycho,” you muttered, painfully rising to your feet.

Richie held his interlocked hands over his stomach, blood seeping through the cracks. His face visibly paled at the copious amounts of blood leaving his body. “You stupid motherfucker,” he groaned. “Fucking ruined my movie. You could’ve just helped us and been a part of history! But you had to go and fuck it all up, you stupid fucking cunt-”

Another gunshot filled the air, Richie crying out as his shot leg trembled with his head slamming against the wall. “Motherfucker!”

“You fucking talk too much,” you breathed. “You and Amber are psychos–And so help me if you quote the movies I’m going to scalp you, you stupid fuck!”

Richie laughed, shaking his head with rapid breaths falling from his lips. “No, I have a better idea-” Without so much as a warning, he tossed the knife he had stabbed into your back into your stomach. A sharp exhale fell from your lips as your finger tensed around the trigger. Shooting Richie right in the head where he could finally stop his tirade and rot in hell.

You stumbled back, the gun slipping from your grasp. A guttural moan fell from your lips as one of your hands found the wall behind you. “Y/n!” The top half of your body became heavy as you lifted your gaze to the voice.

Your face was tense as you found Tara standing with her sister at the kitchen doorway. Looking down at your stomach, your hands shakily found their place around the knife wound before you stumbled back into the wall. Sliding down and leaning against the wall. Head wobbling as your chest fought to catch air into your lungs. Eyes fluttered as you inhaled shakily, groaning with your lips wobbling. Tasting the harsh metallic crimson on the bed of your tongue, trying to hold back a cough.

Tara came to your side, hands surrounding the knife to try and hold the blood in. “Y/n, you’re going to be okay,” she reassured shakily. “Just keep your eyes open. Don’t you dare close them!”

A groan could only be given in response as you stared at her. An unwavering look in your eyes as your lips slowly twitched in a smile. Eyes brimming with tears as your hands grasped hers. She looked up at you, whimpering when finding you crying. “Hey, don’t cry. You’re going to be alright. Just… Just keep your eyes on me.” She held your face, looking between your accepting eyes and the wound.

There was a pause in your actions, a sense of absolution with your mind beginning to clear. You slowly took in every little feature on her face. Eyes carefully flickering to each tidbit that had made you smile and get up in the morning. Not wanting to miss a single thing as you felt her vision clouded with exhaustion. Only offering a quiet, “I love you” before your head fell. The strength in your hands dissipates with Tara’s lips parting, hearing you let out a quiet exhale.

“Y/n?” She whispered, earning no response from your lifeless body. “Y/n?” She repeated, hands coming up to hold your face and finding your eyes empty. A husk that was once the light you brought into her world. Tears streamed down her face as she brought her lips to your forehead, choking on a sob.

“I love you.”

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