#a MIXTAPE HELL YEAH
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telomirage · 5 months ago
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crying over everyone's suggestions for what cori could give to elle before they are separated again. janine with "maybe a little bit nasty […] clip off one of her little wings," sylvi with the feathers, ali with "one of those beauty and the beast mirrors so you can look at each other," keith with TWENTY BUCKS
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moonchild-in-blue · 10 months ago
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shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals <3
Aaa hello Amber!! Fancy seein' you 'ere innit? (sorry I had to 😙🖤)
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boy-armageddon · 8 months ago
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Personally I think the little phenomenon w/ Johnny Whitney writing a just genuinely sort of devastating song once per every record or so (or twice! take, well, Take Me to the Sea 4 example. actually three times maybe. talking about specifically georgia + my organ sounds like… here and also bonetrees and a broken heart a little. also also As Brass And Satin just feels utterly melancholic in its near entirety) is that he just wakes up face down covered in blood in the studio, his own or someone else’s he can’t tell, shaking and grasping some shoddily scrawled out lyrics on a rlly very old piece of paper. The rest of the band might be like “johnny what the fuck happened” and he just springs 2 his feet like “oh haha nothing :> im fine don’t worry. nothing happened!!!!!!! anyways i have this cool new idea 4 a song wanna hear” and any time anyone tries 2 ask about it he immediately dodges the question and moves on2 a diff topic. He can explain what it’s about, but any time someone asks about the inspiration he gets nervous and is like “ohhh ummm. I 4got! Any other song though lol” and doesn’t wait 4 an answer. that’s just a theory though a Seattle theory
#evil neighing compilation#only exceptions I can think of r like… March on electric children and the rlly early bbs stuff. not vade though that stuffs filled w/#inexplicable sadness#I can’t say much regarding hologram jams or soiled life since I haven’t lsitened 2 them in full#‘r you 4 real saying that this adultery has a devastating song on there’ yes I am in fact! im singling out time for tenderness here. what#the hell happened 2 them when they were like 17-19 (that’s my guess 4 the age range anywho) 2 write that. is it just me who feels like that#about time for tenderness or#crimes. doesn’t make me feel sad per se. but the title track and beautiful horses I just. understand So Much it gets 2 me rlly bad#bpib should be obvious. the shame. but also every breath is a bomb once you know the context of who it was partially written about#especially Jordan’s part :-(#young machetes… actually not giant swan or street wars/exotic foxholes 4 me though I suppose I get the sense that I’m supposed 2 feel sad#about them#it’s camouflage camouflage 4 me!#what else what else. oh yeah Johnnys solo stuff. that entire little acoustic mixtape thingy is very sad feeling 2 me in some way#but esepcially at the end of the road there’s a sapphire pit. genuinely made me bawl my eyes out the other night. jfc it’s gr8 but it makes#me feel a little sick 2 my stomach sad#OH MY GOD I 4GOT. NEON BLONDE LOL#that’s also a p obvious choice. chandeliers and vines#it’s a sort of sarcastic song one could suppose. that’s true 4 a lot of Whitney’s work (especially in tbb though Tbf)#still sort of gets 2 me#ya know#done tags rambling my bad
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omegaplus · 1 year ago
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# 4,459
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Omega Radio's 50 Years Of Hip-Hop. When the 'Brentwood Era' started, I had the dial on WBLS, one of New York City's hip-hop / rap stations. It not only signified the first-ever genre I'd pay close attention to, but also signified the beginning of personal cassette dubbing.
For a few years, I'd record as much as possible off to the right of the dial, then later on Hot 97 and Kiss FM. I'd capture Kid Capri, Kool DJ Red Alert, Funkmaster Flex, and Ed Lover, Dr. Dre, and T-Money of Yo! MTV Raps. Running concurrently was In Living Color, a rap-centric die-laughing comedy show that introduced us to the Wayans Brothers, Homey The Clown, Fire Marshall Bill, The Homeboy Shopping Network, and more. My formative years listening to hip-hop / rap lasted as long from middle school to graduating senior year. There's no shortage of mostly positive memories in Brentwood, in thanks to all of my cassette dubs from that era.
I returned to hip-hop / rap when I discovered WUSB a few years later and stumbled upon one of their shows, Ghetto Radio, who showed me a more underground side of things. Street FM, Eminent Audio, and The Basement practically changed my life because they introduced me to sampling culture, forever opening up a new world in getting to know more about myself. As soon as I became a Stony Brook student, I inquired about joining the station. Now, I became a dee-jay and gave back to our listeners the same way WUSB gave to me. It wasn't until my second run at the station (Winter 2013) when I started Omega Radio and took my show more seriously.
For 11 years, we've taken every chance we get to play hip-hop / rap. Our shows started when we did a five-hour bonus broadcast to usher in a new year: classic Seventies' vinyl classics on New Year’s Eve, then three hours of the rough stuff on New Year’s. Since then, we paid it forward by delivering all-time legends (The Notorious B.I.G., 2Pac), more golden-era cuts (EPMD, A Tribe Called Quest, Monie Love), the Eighties (Kool Moe D, MC Shan, Eric B & Rakim, classic old-school moments (Whodini, Sugar Hill Records, Afrika Bambaata), and even white-label underground releases (Lo-Down Click, Erule, Brother Arthur). Let's not forget the ladies of the game, either (Queen Latifah, Monie Love, MC Lyte, and Yo-Yo to name a few).
Later on, we introduced deluxe editions of our shows consisting of golden-era legends still doing their thing (KRS-One, Onyx, Dres of Black Sheep), backpack artists (Jedi Mind Tricks, R.A. The Rugged Man, the Griselda camp), beat tapes (Fuzzoscope, All These Fingers), and newer artists (clipping., Danny Brown, Obnox, Dabrye). We also made some legend specific tributes for Public Enemy, N.W.A. (edited for FCC quality-control), and The Wu-Tang Clan, which happened to be Omega’s most popular show to date. As long as it isn't Kanye West or TekashiSixNine, we're good.
The good news? There’s no sign of up stopping. We'll continuously re-visit our golden-era finds until they’re depleted, and may even consider re-introducing our white-label bonus shows. And we’ll still play our new, current, and relevant hip-hop, rap, and backpacker finds on our deluxe shows.
Found below is each and every hip-hop / rap broadcast Omega WUSB has broadcast up until this point. We urge you to check them all out. Want to re-visit an era with the most creative freedom? Any artists you missed out on? Trying to find a one-hit wonder you want to make a legend out of? No worries. We have you covered.
Here's to fifty more years of hip-hop - and you can all thank DJ Kool Herc for that.
December 31, 2012-January 1, 2013; #5. (Double bonus.)
February 25, 2013; #10.
June 30, 2014; #55.
July 19, 2014-July 20, 2014; #56.
August 17, 2014; #59.
November 22, 2014; #68.
July 13, 2015; #87.
August 24, 2015; #91.
June 27, 2016; #114.
August 15, 2016; #120.
February 11, 2017; #132.
July 29, 2017; #142. (Partial.)
July 28, 2018; #168.
September 3, 2018; #173.
October 15, 2018; #177.
December 10, 2018; #183. (Wu-Tang Clan)
May 4, 2019; #194.
June 29, 2019; #199.
July 20, 2019; #201. (Public Enemy)
August 19, 2019; #205. (N.W.A.)
August 24, 2019; #206. (Partial.)
March 16, 2020; #223.
August 3, 2020; #236.
August 15, 2020; #237.
October 26, 2020; #245.
January 30, 2021; #254.
April 21, 2021; #260.
May 19, 2021; #264.
June 16, 2021; #268.
July 3, 2021; #271. (Double deluxe.)
August 11, 2021; #278. (Hip-Hop’s 48th)
January 3, 2022; #294.
January 12, 2022; #295.
April 25, 2022; #305.
May 21, 2022; #307.
June 20, 2022; #312.
August 22, 2022; #325. (Delayed.)
August 27, 2022; #326.
October 24, 2022; #333.
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screampied · 7 months ago
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‘ CALL ME BY YOUR NAME ?! ★
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geto, toji, choso, gojo, sukuna. moaning the wrong name during sēx.
cw. fem! reader, unprotected, crack, brat taming, substance usage (weed), true form sukuna, spit, size kink + size diffs, impact play, cōckwarming, cērvix mentions, edging, overstim, dumbificafion. req.
wc. 3.6k
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SATORU GOJO ☆
with your body steadily rocking back and forth, rolling and jerking at a more hastily pace—satoru can’t help but strum his thumbs against your curves. your figure, he couldn’t help but feel against it, feel the specific curves, the outline of your gorgeous physique. all his. “fuck, thaaaat’s it baby, that’s my girl,” he praises you in a cooing berceuse, stuffing your cunt with thickset inches of his cock. the constant elastic-like stretch makes you whimper, burying the outer cusps of your fingertips into his bare flesh. his broad wide shoulders lower and alleviate as you’re maintaining such weight on him.
already, you were so close to reaching your inescapable peak. the abiding repetitive creaks of the mattress was loud, creating its own personal mixtape as you whine mercy. with glossy eyes, you peer up at satoru who’s panting himself, a slippery sheet of perspiring sweat coating the top part of his forehead. groaning, he spanks your ass continuously the moment he starts to feel you slow down. “nah, c’mon. don’t get weak on me now, angel. move those f— fuckin’ hips, yeah.”
his words, they ran straight towards your cunt. as he’s delving his fat cock into your stretchy walls time and time again, satoru feels your little butterfly of a pulse. “mhhh,” you squeak out, shaky arms throwing over his slouched shoulders. “s-suguru, ‘m close, fuck.” and the look on his face says it all, what the fuck.
“what,” his eye twitches, and as he’s still tucked inside - buried balls deep into your pussy, there’s a forming pout. satoru doesn’t even look pissed, he just seems .. offended. you huff out a devestated breath at how he just stops and his voice cracks. “did you just call me suguru?”
“i mean shoko—” and then you gasp. “eh, satoru.”
big hands of his hold onto your waist, locking you in a firm grip. satoru’s got the most twisted expression. snowy white brows contort into a repelled furrow as he’s still pumping you full without actually moving.
“no way did you just say shoko,” and he grunts, feeling himself throb at the thought of you and shoko. satoru stares at you and its more of a gawk really. he grips your chin, a soft thumb toying against your quavering bottom lip. so kissable, even while being a brat — he thinks. “did you say that on purpose, baby?”
“n- no,” you lie through your teeth, desperate for him to start up his pace again. you craved it, already missing his fat thick inches breaking past your fragile, soddened walls. this was practically torture, just sitting and waiting for him to start again. whenever you were edged, it was hell. he hums at your impatient expression nonetheless. satoru could read you like a book though - he gives you an eyebrow raise and you gulp, feeling that same twitch arise between your thighs. at this point, he felt it too. “you and s-suguru’s name’s sound the same.”
with a deadpan, he grabs a nice amount of your ass before smacking it. whack, the sting gives you whiplash and you bite down on your lip. “nuh uh,” he murmurs with a concise head shake.
icy blue eyes peer into yours and you let off another gasp once he grabs ahold of your hips again—bouncing you back onto his dick. “don’t like when my babies lie to me. ‘s exactly why ‘m gonna have ‘ta break this pussy for tonight,” and you heard the sudden gruff in his tone. you’re babbling as you’re being fucked dumb on his dick again - up and down, treated like nothing more than a priceless rag doll. you moan so sweet that it’s almost pornographic—the entire scene was obscene, your noises only fueled him to ruin you further. ruin your cunt, anyway. shamefully, you hide your face into his neck, getting a redolent waft of his signature cologne.
teasingly,
satoru leans right into your ear, grabbing your neck gingerly whilst another unoccupied hand slithers down your body, spanking your cunt. it’s so wet, he feels a splash of your slick coat his palm and he chuckles. whispering to you, he grunts out a gruff.
“aw, goin’ somewhere?” he jeers, noticing as you’re trying to move again but secures your hips with two hands. satoru’s got the most shit-eating grin and you just wanted to wipe it straight off. “but heh, while i show this nasty cunt some manners, you won’t cry for me, right?”
SUGURU GETO ☆
the seraphic warmth and pleasure of your body continues to rub off against his skin - so warm, it’s tepid and almost sweltering hot. the strong stench of pure passionate sex with a mixture of his own scent drives you insane.
you’re dragging your pussy back and forth against him, riding him in reverse with your mouth stupidly dangling open. “s- suguuu,” you whimper, pointed tips of your nails gripping onto his thighs. the only other thing that stuck against him besides you, was his grey sweats—grey sweats that were lazily pulled down. your rhythm makes him kiss his teeth, cocking his head back as he takes another puff of his blunt. you wanted to ride him while he took a smoke and he could never refuse to his sweet babygirl. “right there, fuck ‘s big, sugu.”
“perfect size jus’ for you too,” he purrs against your left earlobe, playfully flicking his tongue against your skin. as always, you tasted so sweet for him — he groans at your flavor, a bit of salt that lingers on near your neck falling right onto his tastebuds. once he licks your neck in such a raunchy way, you moan loudly. it’s almost muffled though, a gargling sound forming near the very back of your throat. just seconds ago, your ear twitches from his hot breath fanning into your sensitive canal. your cunt’s having a melodramatic spasm of its own, releasing sweet cries of squelches that never fail to echo throughout the thin apartment walls. “mhm,” and you lean back into his chest, feeling a tickling sensation of brief curled chest hair ghost against your back. “lean into me like that, focus on that arch, good girl.”
the natural rough deepness in his tone always has you pulsing for more - it’s lewd, carnal and downright filthy. as geto inhales, emptying his lungs for a second, he exhales—blowing the clouded air directly away from you. dark hazed irises that were fully blown flicker down toward your ass. the way it moves,
it’s just nasty,
jerk after fucking jerk.
the recoil that slams back into him makes his jaw clench. your cunt’s already a bit overflowed with his cum from before. it’s slippery, dribbling all down the sides of your plush thighs before you whine out a pleading sob. “s- satoru, more. h- harder,” and you hear his lips smack immediately. suguru geto—always a sassy man, you’d bet money he even rolled his eyes too. after your little 'accident' blabber, you suddenly grow mute, realizing the syllables you spat out wasn’t even his.
“who?” he utters, yanking both hips of yours into an abrupt pause. you whine, trying to grind back against him but he only spanks you. “princess, i know you didn’t just say what i think you said.”
it was a type of low purr to his tone and it turns you on regardless. you feel your pulse slowly pick up - both pulses.
specifically between your thighs and your heart.
his loud scent had you aching for more and it only made things ten times worse once you feel his hands grab against your neglected tits. “s- suguru,” you correct yourself, mewling out a pathetic whine. “you know what i meant.”
“do i?” he hums, gently squeezing two fingers against your sensitive nipples. you slump back, still having his cock shoved right into your gummy walls before you start to salivate. right up against your ear, all close and personal, he starts to suck near your tender collarbone. “mhm, y’know exactly what you’re doing, sweets. but since ya wanna call me satoru, maybe you don’t need this dick after all.”
“wha—” and before you could even get a word out, he slides you off of his cock, repositioning his half on shirt. you pout, so close to finishing—so so close. the slimy trail of heat that pours between your legs only grow as you pant, meeting the gaze of the dark-haired male. “but y- you didn’t let me finish.”
with a mocking gesture of bending his head down to your level, he strokes your chin. “yeah, exactly baby,” and his stare at you arouses you way more than you thought. dark, sable tinted pupils return your expression before a smug grin spreads across his pink slicked lips. “but ‘m sure you’ll find a way to finish,” and he ogles at your exposed cunt one more time, an unamused tch leaving his lips. “maybe ask satoru to finish your sloppy pussy off.”
“fine—”
“girl i was joking???”
TOJI FUSHIGURO ☆
some nerve you had—you thought it would’ve been funny, and oh, did you think wrong.
toji’s relentlessly pounding into you from behind. slow, languid strokes massaging into your grippy walls. you’re a mess, tongue lolled out and a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead as he’s just churning up your sweet sweet insides.
every few seconds, a bit hand smacks against the right cheek of your ass, then the left, then the right. it’s constantly repetitive, the sting making you drool all onto the pillow. it’s a nice trail, a translucent color that’s just drizzling out of the corners of your lips.
you’re stupid, head bobbling against the cushioned fluff as if you were just a doll. you were never in a million years a match for toji—let alone his brutal, sharp hips.
“fuckkk,” he hisses out a raspy growl, watching intently as few remnants of his cum from the last round decorate the outer parts of your pussy. viridescent, jade pupils dart toward your thighs, taking in your jolting body. so weak, he can’t help but gawk at the way his hot cum oozes out of each hole. it’s so sloppy, he couldn’t help but swipe his thumb against your puckering entrance, getting a taste. “mhm,” he utters, lapping the fat print of his thumb over his tongue. toji never had a problem with it. relishing the bitter tang of his own, it was on you after all so it was even sweeter. the jiggle of your ass from each stinging swat he gives you makes his dick twitch. “sluttin’ y’erself out on me, good. keep the fuckin’ arch, yeah.”
there was a raspy pitch in his voice, gruff. you whimper, feeling him clamp both of your wrists toward your back - a slope of drool trickling past the corners of your lips before you let out a defeated snivel. “s-shiu, hngh. ‘m so close, shiu.”
and right then—he stops his hips, you’re clenching around nothing but his cock, his cock that was now idle. your panting slows down and the debleating rapture goes away once you moan out his colleague’s name. “w- what happened?”
“w-what happened?” he mocks your tone, even quivering out his lip to capture your little whine. your ass gets met with another serrated smack and the brief clash of his hips makes you hiss.
“shiu, huh?” and he sounds .. amused. you weren’t even looking at the man but you could tell he probably had the most smug expression imaginable. your ass was still propped and raised in the air — ass up, face down. your left temple buries itself into the velvety sheets before you start to clench around his non moving length. “dunno whether ‘ta be offended or turned on, baby.”
you swallow, feeling a broad hand grip against your ass. toji gawks at the sight of you all all arched, feeling your pussy thump in sync with your irregular breaths. he snickers at your current position, a thumb poking inside of your slick cunt before maneuvering it around. doing so, it makes the delivery of your words shudder. “i s- said toji.”
“shut the fuck up.” he grits.
you hold back an incoming giggle and you could visibly feel the glare displayed on his tense expression.
toji grabs another piece of your ass before lightly shoving you further into the mattress. “ehh. but fine, since you wanna say shiu, ‘m curious. who’s bigger? me or that bum?”
“do you .. want me to be honest?” you sheepishly murmur.
he didn’t expect you to say that.
“……..”
SUKUNA RYŌMEN ☆
all four arms roam over your body - exploring every inch, taking pride in your curves that presented itself in such a nude, salacious way.
you gasp at his strength, the demon lifting you up with ease, fucking you stupid whilst you’re in the air. you’re a mess, a nice stringy strand of your own spit starts to race out of your mouth and into the cracks of your chest. “ah,” he raises a single slit brow, holding you up and fucking you with deep, thorough thrusts. inside of his domain, the temperature was cold—the more your body lurches midair, the more you’re hit with a breeze of frigid cool wind. “such a dumb little face y’r makin’,” he points out, a big hand cupping your chin.
within no time, you’re slobbering all down his hand, feeling him puncture such deep areas into your cunt. sukuna bares a fang in a cocky manner, another hand gripping your chin so that you could look straight at him. “someone’s dumb again, today huh,” he grits, the hits of his dick sending you on a frenzied spiral. you’re babbling incoherent words, two weak arms thrown over his shoulders as you’re just bouncing and bouncing. he’s so thick too, his angry mushroom tip repeated its gesture of coating your cervix with a plethora of chaste kisses. “oh, don’t give me that pout. wanna cum, huh? ‘s that why you look so stupid?”
“t— tojiiii.” you whine, trying to grind your hips further to your incoming release. ripples of waves ignite its way into your body in short welts of pleasure. languidly, they form into tiny little surges of shockwaves before you short circuit. it’s early, you’re panting and you don’t even realize that you’re gushing all down his cock.
an entire mess—you’re an entire mess and you don’t even realize the repulsed expression sukuna’s giving you. “pardon, little girl.”
“i.. i said sukuna.” you moan, making an attempt to kiss his neck but he growls lowly, restraining one of your hands. his reflexes were quick, preventing you from moving a single inch further. you’re still behind held up with his other arms, fat hefty cock buried deep into your drooling, loose walls before he peels your bottom lip down. “don’t stop, ‘kun—”
“no, you said toji,” and he stares you dead in the eyes. you’re met with cruel mighty ones, and still you throbbed regardless. with your weak legs snaked around his waist - sukuna hmphs at you, watching your body try to move itself. you can’t help but be needy, he’s still inside of you but he just wouldn’t move. your teeth was shattering, nails piercing into his skin before he wraps a single hand around your throat. “how do you even mix up our names?” and he lightly knocks against your head, making you lie flat against the mattress. “must be nothin’ in that brain, huh. my girl’s such an airhead today.”
“ryo,” you moan, feeling a bit exposed now that you were laid flat on your back. the satiny sheets run against your skin as you sprawl your legs open voluntarily. he watches, a tongue scraping over his upper lip before aligning himself again. ryo, you were aware that that wasn’t even his name but you always liked to tease him about it. your cunt’s throbbing ridiculously still from its most recent crazed release. with your thighs shaking ruthlessly, you spread your swollen cunt lips open with two fingers. “s- sorry, ‘m sorry. didn’t mean it.”
he chuckles, knowing full well you were basically pleading for him to keep going. you were desperate, physically and metaphorically frothing at the mouth for his heavy shaft. your eyes meet his cock that was just right there, a pretty droplet of pre-cum dribbling down the very side where a prodding vein remains. with a sly expression, he pries you open with a single finger. immediately, your mouth goes ajar and agape from the stretch.
“mhm, the audacity to compare me to that loser,” he snarls, and watches with crimson, red-shot eyes as your legs sprawl open. with just a single digit, he makes your sopping cunt lips spread apart and he leans his neck down to spit right on it. you whine, staring openly as he grabs ahold of one of his dicks that was stacked behind the first one. “brat ‘till the end ‘n y’r still this fuckin’ soaked. now open up for me.”
you gulp, leaning back against the mattress while feeling the sharp gaze of an unruly demon. he’s got a relaxed expression, but he rubs the tip of both dicks against your wet pussy. “wha—”
“lets use that brain today,” he grunts, and your back spontaneously arches forward the moment you feel both dampened tips glide its way down your inviting slit. “spread ‘em. since you wanna call me ‘toji’ i’ll have to remind this cunt how’s it feel to be stuffed by two fuckin’ cocks, whore.”
CHOSO KAMO ☆
with choso, he’d be having you in classic missionary, interlocking his tangled fingers with yours the entire time. your touch to him was a treasure he never wanted to lose. its warmth, he feels a sudden flutter school its way into his heart and he lets off a relaxed sigh. fevered skin presses against your body directly underneath him and he can’t help but gaze into your eyes. so so pretty, that natural doe-eyes look, pupils all irised and shimmering in the sunlight — you’re simply ethereal. his heart’s racing and racing, each beat gets quicker by the second. with a single tugging gnaw at his bottom lip he tugs the skin at his teeth. your grip has him lost in a gaze, and he can’t help but moan your name again and again.
he moans it continuously in such a sweet, swooning tune until he’s a broken record. he’s so in love. choso continues to moan it until each syllable of your name gets stuck on his tongue like gum. after a few moments, he’s now whining your name, continuing to tenderly grind his hips into you at such a passionate pace. babbles of broken whimpers make its way out of his lips as he’s sputtering nonsense, locking each finger with yours. his grip was tight because he never wanted to let you go.
he couldn’t.
choso was always gentle with you, he treated you like you were glass, glass preparing to crack and break. but he never wanted to break you.
warm, feverish breaths pant and collide against each other’s mouths as he’s taking turns from sucking on your collarbone or your neck. “ngh, my baby’s s- so pretty,” he huffs, gently swaying his hips roughly yet tenderly into you. choso had the rhythm and he had the pace— it was never a dull moment with him. you were about to cream down his cock again, nirvana surging through your veins as your legs wrap around his waist. his body height hovers over you and it’s so hypnotic.
choso’s hair - it’s usually in two ponytails but now, it’s all loose and unkempt. a few ravened strands even prod its way against your forehead.
it’s prickling your skin, tickling against you within each thrust. each sloppy stroke bucking into your sweet sweet core.
“no, p- please, look at me, please,” he mumbles in a soft tone, dark arched brows curling up into a needful furrow. a thumb strums against the outline of your jaw before he gives it a benign kiss. delicately, your chin gets pulled up gently with a big hand and he pouts until your eyes finally meets his.
finally,
your cunt greedily clings onto him tight, speaking of tight - that’s all you felt. for a while anyway,
your legs securely sling around his slim waist as if it was a snake. his thrusts were always so merciless and grim, no matter how tender he was with you, how gentle. choso was always gentle, yet he’s had the stamina of a horse. he always wanted to make sure you were feeling good at all costs. the moment his eyes meet yours, he feels a pang of love welt its way into his heart. “jus lookin’ at you ‘s gonna make me cum,” he whimpers, his body jittering just from the thought.
body against body, skin against skin,
choso leans in to kiss you, practically humping against your pussy. he’s so feral for you. he’s so feral and oh, he just can’t help it.
it was cute,
the half curse was trying his best to make you feel good because his pleasure was your pleasure at the end of the day.
his tongue ploddingly glides against yours before he starts to suck it, gasping once he feels your clit convulse against his thwacking tip. choso was forevermore weak from your tender kisses. “mhh,” you speak between sultry wet kisses, and his body remains to grind against yours. hovering over you completely, a thumb of his roams down the palm of your sweaty hand. pulling away, you moan out a shrilling whimper, “s- sukuna—”
yet, by coincidence you’re not the only person to blurt out the wrong name, because choso ends up finishing inside, a thick stringy load of cum pours its way into the inner depths of your searing warm cunt. tossing his head back in lewd rapture, choso grabs onto your thigh, only for his head to collapse into your chest. with a whiney mumble, he whines out a sweet. “y- yuki, mommy.”
“what?”
“what?”
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carronpatrick · 1 year ago
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× I don't like your little games, don't like your tilted stage, the role you made me play of the fool. No I don't like you...
And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure. Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours.
But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time. Honey, I rose up from the dead - I do it all the time.
I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams. ×
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writingfics-passingtime · 2 months ago
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Bucky and queen song
Waving Your Banner
This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!
Song Prompt: We Will Rock You - Queen
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (flirtatious, no pronouns used)
Word Count: ~1300
CW: swearing, some flirting, suggestive jokes, a bit of tickling
minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a flirtatious/suggestive interaction between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.
Note: Thanks, anon! My initial note-to-self from when you first sent this was, verbatim, "okay but dodgeball would be fucken hilarious with we will rock you" - so we've gone with an Avengers training game vibe with this one
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The woods hummed with tension, broken by the occasional crack of a branch or the muffled thud of boots. The Avengers had turned what should’ve been a simple training game into an all-out war, and your team was desperate to gain the upper hand. Somewhere ahead, in the shadow of the tree-line, stood the final obstacle: Bucky Barnes, silent, brooding, and lethal, guarding his team’s flag, the White Wolf circling his den.
You crouched beside Sam behind a cluster of bushes, your pulse steady but sharp as you surveyed the terrain. Bucky was right where you expected him, leaning casually against a tree just outside the flag's perimeter. He looked calm, detached even, but you knew better. The slightest flicker of movement would set him in motion, and if he was after you, there’d be no escaping. Flag perimeters were a no-fly-zone, so you and Sam would have to take it on foot.
“Alright,” Sam said, breaking the silence. “We need a plan. And by we, I mean you, because I’m not getting anywhere near the Winter Soldier.”
You shot him an incredulous look. “You’re faster than me.”
“He’s a wall. A brick wall with trust issues and superhuman reflexes.”
You sighed, pressing your back against the thick trunk of a tree. “Then we need a distraction. Something that’ll actually make him move.”
Sam raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’s your genius plan?”
“You,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “You could bait him. Taunt him. Goad him into leaving his post.”
“And get steamrolled by the murder machine? Hard pass.” He scoffed. "Besides, you’re obviously better bait.”
The heat rushed to your face immediately. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on,” Sam teased, his grin widening. “You’ve got that whole… thing going on.”
“What thing?”
He waved a hand vaguely at you. “You know. The whole ‘badass with a secret soft side’ thing. He’ll eat it up. Hell, I think the whole team’s noticed the way he looks at you.”
You glared at him. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
“He does,” Sam interrupted, revelling in your reaction. “Come on, you could probably get him to do whatever you wanted. Just say something like, ‘Oh, Bucky, is that a vibranium arm or are you just happy to see m-”
You shoved him into the bush.
Sam tried to silence his little grunts as he pulled himself out, yanking the twigs from his armour plates. “Fine. You wanna argue about this all day, or should we win?”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just send in Redwing.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
The plan was simple enough: Redwing would create a distraction in a bush behind Bucky, luring him away from the flag, giving you and Sam time to move in and grab it. You moved carefully, keeping low as you crept through the underbrush. The tension in the air was electric, every rustle of leaves amplified by your own awareness of how close Bucky was.
But, true to form, Sam couldn’t resist screwing with you.
As you crept closer to the clearing, Redwing darted toward you and made a ruckus in the bush partially shielding you from view. It was more than enough to give you away, and before you could even curse Sam’s name, you heard it - the unmistakable sound of boots crunching leaves, closing in fast.
Your head whipped around just in time to see Bucky moving toward you with the kind of speed that made your heart stutter. His expression was sharp, predatory, and - gods help you - just a little amused.
“Shit,” you muttered, bolting from your hiding spot.
“Running won’t help you,” Bucky called after you, his voice dark and smooth, laced with amusement.
You didn’t bother responding, too focused on dodging tree trunks and low-hanging branches. But it didn’t matter how fast you ran; he was faster. In seconds, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you clean off your feet.
“Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low in your ear.
“Not yet, you don’t,” you growled, twisting sharply in his grip.
You elbowed him in the side, breaking free for a split second, but he was faster. He blocked your next move, his vibranium hand catching your wrist and spinning you around. You didn’t go down without a fight, aiming a kick at his shin and struggling against his hold, refusing to make it easy for him.
“Feisty,” he muttered, almost admiringly, his grip tightening as you wrestled.
You managed to get one arm free, landing a half-decent shove against his chest. He staggered back slightly but recovered in less than an instant, his smirk returning, sharper than before.
“Alright,” he said, his voice edged with amusement, “you wanna play rough? Let’s play rough.”
Before you could react, he was on you, trapping you between his body and the wide trunk of a tree. His fingers darted to your ribs, pressing against your sides with infuriating precision.
You jolted, a startled laugh bursting out before you could stop it. “What the fu- hey! No, that’s cheating!”
“Cheating?” he echoed, his grin widening as he tickled you again, this time catching your waist. “You’re the one trying to fight dirty.”
You squirmed, trying to slap his hands away, but the tickling was relentless, and your traitorous laughter left you weak, your arms useless.
“No! I- dammit, Barnes!”
Seizing the moment, he stepped back, grabbed both your wrists and yanked you against him, hauling you effortlessly over his shoulder. You kicked your legs in protest, but his grip was unyielding, his hand steady against the backs of your thighs.
“Put me down!” you demanded, pounding your fists against his unfairly muscled back.
“Not until you’re in jail,” he said, his voice low and smooth, the vibration of it sending a shiver through you.
“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” you grumbled, your cheeks burning as you felt his arm tighten around your thighs.
He chuckled, the sound warm and agonising. “Unusual, maybe. But I’d say you’re enjoying it.”
“Barnes!” you snapped, squirming harder.
His laughter deepened, and he carried you with an ease that was both infuriating and maddeningly attractive. When he finally stopped, he set you down just outside the jail, his hands lingering at your waist.
“Let me go,” you said, though the bite in your tone had softened.
He stepped closer, his body a looming presence as his eyes bore into yours. “Say please.”
You scowled, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Didn’t think so,” he said, his smirk widening as he stepped forward, forcing you to step back - straight into the jail’s boundary.
You glared at him, your chest heaving as he stood just inches away, his gaze dark and intent. “Happy now?”
“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, “but close.”
Before you could fire back, Sam’s triumphant whoop echoed through the trees. You turned just in time to see him flying above your team's base with Bucky's team's flag, waving it over his head like a trophy.
Bucky groaned, his head falling back briefly before he levelled a sharp glare at you. “Distraction,” he muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, the word practically dripping with accusation.
Your lips curved into a coy smile despite yourself.
“You’re too damn good at it,” he said, his tone darker now, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he turned and stalked off.
Flushed, you called after him. "This isn't over, Barnes!"
He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, turning to face you as he walked backwards towards his next mission. "Not by a long shot."
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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago
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Can we get y/n as a total book worm and Harry just finding it so adorable, like no matter what she’s doing she always has a book in her hands. Cooking, has a book. Backstage, reading a book. At a cafe for breakfast, reading a book.
Ofc you don’t have tot do this idea, it’s just an idea
here it is !! one of my favorite tropes i’ve done coming to tumblr <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
coffeeandbookss - yn’s bookstagram
yourinstagram- yn’s personal insta
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liked by emmachamberlain, gemmastyles and 15,937 others
coffeeandbookss Now reading: My policeman by Bethan Roberts ! In 1957, we meet Marion, a young woman hopelessly in love with Tom, her best friend’s brother. Tom — training to become a policeman — returns her affections, but holds a secret of his own. Will let you know my full review once done ! 💙
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bookfan1 just added it to my list !
bookfan2 i love everything you recommend
bookfan3 started it this week !
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,938 others
harryupdates Harry just followed this account on instagram !
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harryfan1 harry on his bookstagram era
harryfan2 AHH ONE OF MY FAVE BOOK CREATORS
harryfan3 she’s so pretty also
harryfan4 IM SUBSCRIBED TO HER YOUTUBE CHANNEL shes soooo good
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liked by yoursister, gemmastyles and 1,937 others
yourinstagram um harry styles follows mt bookstagram?? am i dreaming?
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yoursister YOU LUCKY BITCH
gemmastyles I’d love to think I’m responsible for that, I kept talking about your account 🫣
↳ yourinstagram love you gem thanks for your constant support 💓
username1 you’re the best out there
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,986 others
harryupdates Harry in London today ! He carried this book with himself
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harryfan1 he’s really in his books era
harryfan2 i started that book the other week omg
harryfan3 omw to buy it
harryfan4 my favorite booktuber just recommended this omg
DMS BETWEEN HARRY AND YN
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 4,937 others
harryupdates Harry having dinner tonight !
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harryfan1 OHHH
harryfan2 is that a DATE
harryfan3 boyfriendrry?
harryfan4 respect his privacy
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yourinstagram happy days :)
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harryfan1 um why did harry like?
gemmastyles my babies 🥹
↳ harryfan2 hello are we missing something
harrystyles ❤️
↳ harryfan2 HELLO?
harryfan4 i’m so confused right now
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tmz_tv Seems like Harry Styles got a new girl. More of his beach outing at the link in our bio 👀
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harryfan1 wtffff
harryfan2 WHO IS THAT
harryfan3 man i hate tmz
harryfan4 FIND OUT WHO THE GIRL IS RIGHT NOW
↳ harryfan1 i think their privacy was disturbed enough already
↳ harryfan2 yeah we’re shouldn’t snoop around trying to dig personal information of whoever the girl with him is
harryfan6 sucks as hell that they took these without their consent but i can’t help but be all 🥲🥲 over the fact that they’re reading together
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theharrytea okay yall so i was watching yn’s latest video because of all the rumors going around her and harry (yk he followed her and commented on her posts and harry has been seen with someone we don’t know yet) AND i swear to god i heard his voice around min 7 😭 you could clearly hear that someone opens the door and a faint “sorry” I KNOW MY MAN’S VOICE AND THAT WAS HIS
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harryfan1 OH
harryfan2 omfg i can hear it now
harryfan3 y’all are tripping at this point
harryfan4 delulu
harryfan5 idk if any of this is true but they would make a cute couple like they would ready to each other and stuff :(
YN VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES
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liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 107,837 others
coffeeandbookss This week’s recommendation is presented by my brand new reading partner ! Love is a Mixtape is a soulful book, written as a way of understanding not only love and loss, but also the way music is can get us through those happy or sad times ! Full review this weekend 🤍
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bookfan1 IS THAT HARRY STYLES ??
annetwist ❤️❤️
harryfan1 HARRYYYYY
harryfan2 THEY ARE SOOO DATING
harrystyles It is my pleasure to be featured x
↳ harryfan3 OMFG THEY FR ARE DATING
gemmastyles 🥹
harryfan4 I MEAN we kinda already knew it was her who has seen kissing harry BUT I LOVE THIS HARD LAUNCH
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liked by yourinstagram, gemmastyles and 6,837,927 others
harrystyles She’s got a book for every situation x
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harryfan1 AHHH IS THIS YN
jefezoff 🙌🏻🙌🏻
harryfan2 LOVE ME A HARD LAUNCH
gemmastyles ❤️
harryfan3 harry is not single anymore omfg
yourinstagram 🥹💓
harryfan4 COUPLE OF THE YEAR
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harryismysun Worth the shot
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harryfan1 PLEASEEEEE
harryfan2 you're so funny
harryfan3 i love this fandom
yourinstagram 😂😂 I can confirm this is how it all went down
↳ harryfan1 I LOVE HER
↳ harryfan2 she's the best
taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin n @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry
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before-it-felt-like-a-sin · 2 months ago
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Lottienat x reader headcanons
No one requested this but I've decided they're my wives and I have a lot of thoughts about them.
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Lottie and Nat were definitely together first, but they both individually had a crush on you prior to getting together. And they didn't realize until one of them (probably Lottie) brought it up in passing
Then the two of them have a little chat and decide that they both want you in their relationship
You're loosely friends with both of them, like you all never hang out but you do eat lunch together and talk during class
When Lottie and Natalie first got together you were so jealous because somehow the two girls you had crushes on started dating each other
You pretend to be literally so chill about it, like saying you're happy for them a total of one time and never bringing it up again, but everyone except Nat and Lottie can tell you're pissed
One day Nat just starts high-key flirting with you, and you're very confused because you can tell it's flirting, but she's literally with Lottie. Like you saw them holding hands that morning
You brush off the whole interaction until the next day Lottie starts flirting with you. She's a lot more subtle about it, but she's still clearly flirting.
This goes on for like a week until you're like "intervention time" and pull them aside after school one day like "hey why tf do you keep flirting with me"
They're both like silent for a sec before Lottie tells you that they both have a crush on you
And you're all "okay and? Y'all are together?" Not exactly understanding what's happening.
So Lottie has to be like "Yeah, and we'd like you to be together with us."
you tell them you need a minute and just leave. it takes you a few days to warm up to the idea, and then another few days to work up the courage to tell them that you like them back.
almost immediately, they're both all over you, which you aren't opposed to but it def throws you off
Lot is a lot touchier than Natalie. Like any physical touch is generally initiated by Lottie. BUT when Nat has a particularly bad day she's all over both of you.
They both love giving gifts but it's very different for both of them. Like Nat will find small things that reminds her of you and Lottie while Lottie is the type to hear you say you like something one time and it's yours forever
I'm back on my "Nat can cook" grind. She cooks for y'all like nightly bc Lottie can't cook at all and you can make like... mac n cheese
But it's a fair trade bc Natalie hates doing dishes. Like it physically pains her. So Lottie does dishes and you clean the kitchen. It works out really well
As a dyed hair girlie I definitely think Lottie would help both you and Nat dye your hair. Once she suggested the two of you go to a salon and she'd pay for it, and you and Natalie were very offended
Nat was like "it's not as punk/grunge to get it done professionally" while you pulled the "oh so you hate us and don't want to spend time with us" card
Lottie never brought it up again and HAPPILY helped you dye your hair from then on
Everyone fucking says this but sleepovers at Lottie's house. No one's ever home to tell you to leave and Lottie likes the company. Not to mention that Nat will take any excuse to not have to sleep in her trailer.
Nat makes mixtapes for both of you and will leave them in your backpack/random spots in your house. She never actually hands them to either of you.
Canonically they both smoke, so you'll pass around a cigarette or a blunt depending on the day.
You're used to one or both of them showing up to your house unannounced because they're feeling lonely
Natalie gets annoyed when Lottie's parents are home and the two of you have to leave because the Matthews' have some fancy gala
It's become a routine for you and Nat to bother the hell out of Lottie for those stupid parties. It got so bad that she ended up convincing her parents to let her take the two of you
You were never invited to another one of those parties
They make you go to every single home game, no matter how early/late they are. They're convinced that you're a good luck charm, and they both look so happy when they see you in the stands that you can't say no to them
Whenever they win you all go for ice cream or some other sort of treat
Lottie plans and pays for almost every dinner date that you go on. These don't happen often, though, because they're always to fancy restaurants that need a months notice for a reservation
You and Nat end up planning the normal dates, things like movies or concerts
Whenever you're out shopping Lottie goes full sugar mommy. If you even look at something for too long she's buying it for you. Nat's acquired quite the record collection because of Lottie's shopping
If you aren't sleeping at Lottie's (aka you're sleeping at your house) you guys all fight over who gets the bed and which one of you sleeps on the floor. Eventually you just started rotating it, which helped a little.
Modern AU where Lottie has one of those influencer bathrooms with all the travel size cosmetics that she keeps there specially for you and Nat to take. And they're like the expensive ones too, like minis from Sephora
Modern AU where Nat got famous on TikTok and Lottie got famous on Instagram (Nat for being alt and hot, Lottie for being rich and hot) completely independent of each other. When it was revealed all three of you were together you had to deal with an influx of followers on both sites
Photographer Lottie who's constantly taking pictures of both you and Nat for her personal Instagram. There's like two pictures of her total on the whole feed, it's mostly you and Nat
Nat has one photo up on insta and it's one of you and Lottie at the beach that she absolutely loves
Unrelated but Nat is the type to only post memes on her Instagram story
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imasoftieforbarb · 1 year ago
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Floyd x fem pop troll headcanons pleaseee 🙏🏽 {P.S, luv your work. Keep it up my guy😚😚}
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Floyd with a Pop s/o
Loves to dance with you whenever a spontaneous musical number happens in pop village
Likes to write songs about you
Maybe a few duets!
Hes so down for you that he could be in the middle of doing anything, if you walk by?
Everything is on the floor- he’s walking away holding your hand
Matching outfits? He’s there!
Matching accessories if you wanna be low-key? HELL YEAH
Jamming out to y’all’s favorite songs
You make mixtapes for each-other
Scrapbooking all your dates?
Moving in with eachother is so easy cause y’all live like one pod away from eachother
And cause you’ve been leaving your stuff at his
Competing for favorite local couple against branch and poppy
Branch warms up to you when he sees how happy you make Floyd
You and Poppy bonding over dating a member of Brozone
One time, Branch and Floyd came back to you and Poppy full out fan girling over their songs
He’s so whipped for you he immediately just joined in
I hc that Floyd (like JD) doesn’t like being in one place for too long
Also the fact that he doesn’t like leaving on his own
So if you agree to go traveling with him?
He’s on one knee right then and there
(Gets your parent/sibling/ closest friends permission to marry you before y’all leave)
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year ago
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someday soon
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is having hope for the future'
rated t | 1,237 words | cw: ptsd, injury recovery, negative view of self (Steve) | tags: angst with a happy ending, getting together, hurt/comfort, falling in love
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
Steve ignored his bat bites for too long.
That's what all the doctors and nurses said when he'd been rushed into the ER by Robin, panicked when he passed out and woke up with very little memory of what they'd done that day.
She assumed it was the concussions catching up to him, but it turned out to be a hell of an infection. The infection had spread from the worst bite on his side to his hip and down his leg. They caught it in time to save the leg, but it would be weak for months, if not years, and he'd need to do physical therapy to keep the muscle dense enough to walk.
Everyone was pissed at him, but mostly just happy he was finally getting taken care of. That was a difficult thing for him.
Eddie joked that it was his turn to keep him company in the hospital now, but Steve wasn't up for jokes. Not when he'd become such a burden. Not when he was pulling attention from things and people that actually needed it. He was using up resources that were already barely available for people much worse off than him.
When he was finally fever-free, showing signs of improvement, and promising to keep taking the antibiotics for two more weeks, he was set free. Eddie and Robin brought him to Eddie's trailer to ensure he would actually take care of himself, and he didn't have the heart to argue with either of them.
He felt ridiculous, every single time he got stuck on the couch because his leg was too numb to stand, every time Wayne would grab whatever thing he couldn't quite reach from the top shelf of the cabinet because he couldn't stand on both of his tip toes, whenever Eddie would half-carry him to the shower and wait by the door in case he fell on his bad days. It was all so stupid. He was stupid.
He spent his days doing what he was supposed to, but only the bare minimum. He did the exercises, but only alone in Eddie's room while he was busy at work or picking up Steve's slack. He took the meds when he was in pain instead of "suffering in silence" like Robin told him to. He packed Wayne's lunches for work as a thank you for letting him stay even though Wayne always insisted he didn't need to do anything to deserve a roof over his head and people to care.
He ignored the stupid churning in his stomach that started when he thought about what would happen when Eddie brought him back to his empty house. He ignored the butterflies every time Eddie got home while he was faking sleep on the couch and covered him with the blanket that was by his feet. He ignored the way his heart fluttered every time Eddie would make him the tea he secretly liked instead of the coffee he normally forced himself to drink.
He pretended that the love that grew in his chest was made up, that Eddie was only doing what any friend would do.
Steve only let his imagination run away with him on the nights when Eddie was at Hellfire late, when he was curled up in Eddie's bed at Eddie's insistence that he sleep there. He let himself picture a future like this: waiting up for Eddie to get home from work or a show, curled up with a pillow that smelled like him against his chest, wearing a t-shirt that had holes from being worn too much, and the mixtape Eddie made for Steve playing low in the background.
It was a perfect future.
He fell asleep to the thought of Eddie's arms around him, holding him because he wanted to, not because he had to.
He woke up to Eddie's arms around him, the dark and silent room around him making him panic until Eddie's grip tightened and he pulled him closer.
"You awake?" Eddie whispered against the top of his head.
"Yeah." Steve didn't pull away, couldn't make himself even though the alarms were going off in his brain telling him to put space between them before Eddie realized what this meant to him. "When'd you get back?"
"Hour ago maybe. Didn't mean to run so late, sorry," Eddie's fingers were tracing patterns up and down his spine.
"It's okay. You can do whatever you want," Steve let himself have this moment. He nudged his face further into Eddie's shirt, smiling at the warmth of his chest. "You sleep at all yet?"
"No, I was busy."
Steve's brows furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"
"Watching you."
Steve turned his head so he was looking up at him. "Watching me sleep? Why the hell were you doing that?"
He should probably sound more upset, maybe more concerned about being watched while he was unconscious. But a pretty big part of him was fine with it, wanted it, hoped it meant more to Eddie too.
"The corner of your mouth twitches a lot in your sleep, did you know that? And when you're in pain or having a nightmare, it stops. Sometimes I just watch to make sure you're sleeping okay," he answered simply. "Been at least a few nights since you've had any nightmares right?"
Steve nodded, speechless at the fact that Eddie had noticed something like that.
"You curl the blanket in your hand when you sleep, too. Or my shirt. Sometimes your own shirt if you can't find anything else," Eddie continued.
Steve felt his fingers loosen in Eddie's shirt, not having noticed the way they'd been holding on for dear life this entire time.
Eddie's hand covered his, squeezing something that felt like reassurance and love right into his skin.
"You're not the same Steve you used to be, but you still worry about what people think. You can just be you. Just be Steve. I promise the Steve you are is the Steve we love," Eddie smiled down at him.
"I-" Steve took a breath. "I just don't wanna ruin it all."
"Stevie, sweetheart." Eddie shook his head. "You couldn't ruin it. When are you gonna get it through that thick head of yours that we're all stickin' this out with you?"
"But you don't have to."
"No, we don't." Eddie squeezed his hand again. "But we do. And we will."
"Even if I'm always like this?"
"Like what?"
"Recovering. Having nightmares. Scared. Robin says I might be depressed? I'm probably gonna limp forever."
"Stevie, look at me," Eddie said, tilting his face back towards him. Steve hadn't even realized he'd turned away so much. "I love you. Okay?"
"You do?"
"Do you think I notice what other people's lips do when they're sleeping?"
Steve snorted. "No, I guess not."
"I love you and sometimes that might mean I have to deal with your shit, but I want to, okay? It won't always be this much shit. I can hold your hand through it," Eddie smiled. "Now, you should go back to sleep."
"You didn't kiss me yet," Steve said around a yawn.
"We've got plenty of time for it, sweetheart. Go to sleep."
Steve believed him.
He knew it would still be shit. He knew he wouldn't always believe what Eddie said. He knew he'd still feel like a burden.
But they had time to wade through it together.
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hellfirenacht · 10 months ago
Text
Wing Man Part 8
Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)
Chapter Summary: Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.
5.7k Words
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a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating! I swear, I'm almost always thinking about this fic but I've been trying to figure out where to go with it. I'm started to see how I want to shape the story (over 40k words in, go figure). Thank you all so much for your patience!
Also, I've had a lot of people ask me about Paige and have shown interest in what happened between her and Eddie. She is actually from Eddie's prequel novel, Flight of Icarus! I'll still explain bits and pieces during the story, but I highly recommend reading the novel for the full context. I am trying to write this in a way you don't need to read FoI, but it does give extra context to the story.
Anyway, we continue.
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Aside from the mixtape playing in the van, it was surprisingly quiet between you and Eddie. Despite his eagerness to show up and take you out, now that you were sitting in his passenger side seat again, he had no idea what to do next. The sound of Iron Maiden was rumbling through the van, crackling through the old speakers. 
It wasn’t often that Eddie was at a loss for words or couldn’t come up with something to say. After embracing his role in the Hawkins High ecosystem as the resident loudmouth freak he could always come up with something to say to break the ice or cause a ruckus. 
But, being loud wasn’t exactly a substitution for actual charisma. He could hold the attention of his Hellfire Club during the game, and keep them safe enough from most bullies even. But intimidation was different than... whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here. Flirting? That seemed right. He knew he should be trying to flatter you or compliment you or do something to show that he had an interest in you. 
“So,” you were the one to break the silence between the two of you. “What have you been up to for the past two weeks?”
Eddie know what you actually meant was “What the fuck, man?” which was a really fair question. 
“I should have called you sooner.” It was best to go ahead and rip the bandaid off now and get this conversation out of the way. “I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door as you looked at him. Despite your eagerness to get out of Family Video with him, he could see that you weren’t going to just let him not explain why he hadn’t talked to you. Not that he was going to leave you hanging like that anyway. 
“My phone blew up.” Eddie said bluntly. 
“Your phone blew up? Like... actually exploded?” you asked, trying to see if he was fucking with you. 
“Remember that huge storm a few weeks ago? Turns out that old trailers don’t exactly have the best wiring sometimes so when lightning strikes it knocks out power for a few days and fries some important wires.” he explained. “So... yeah, we just got a new phone today and when I tried to call...”
“So, I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to track me down?” There was amusement in your voice which he took as a good sign. “Seems like you could have done that part earlier. I’m not hard to find.” 
“I’m not exactly interested in stalking.” Eddie snorted. “I’m already on enough people's shitlist in town.”
“Oh, you’re no fun.” you laughed. “You know where I live, you could have shown up at my doorstep in the rain or used random phones around town to leave weird messages about how you can’t stop thinking about me or sent me letters with cryptic meanings.”
“Where do you come up with these things?” Eddie laughed, feeling the tension between the two of you start to dissipate. 
“I read a lot of bodice-ripper books.” you shrugged. “Trashy romance novels are a guilty pleasure sometimes.” 
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?” 
“Steve did about an hour ago when I suggested that Bozo the clown could be the shit out of Pennywise from It.” 
Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Every time you had shown up in his life, you had completely thrown him off. He was starting to suspect that no amount of “Munson Magic” was going to work on you. Not that he wanted to work his dad’s charm on you to begin with. 
What he really wanted to do at that moment was ask you about your little bet with Steve. No, wait, not a bet. A deal? Maybe he should have asked Dustin more questions, or at least waited until after Hellfire to talk to the kid- 
”So what’s the plan?” You broke through his thoughts once again. “You show up out of nowhere and have me get into your unmarked van to take me to a second location... is there a second location in mind?”
There wasn’t, Eddie really hadn’t thought that far ahead.He’d panicked after his talk with Wayne and had shown up to Family Video on the chance that you’d been there. He’d run straight out the door with every intention of finding you and let you know that he was stupid for not trying harder to call you before. 
”I figured we could just... drive.” He wished he could ignore the sudden parallel between you and Paige. He wished that he could just forget about what happened in ‘84. Fuck, him and Paige never even had an official date, only hooking up in his van for a few weeks before everything blew up. 
Wait, was this a date? Crap, that had been the plan right? Show up, ask you on a date and then... then he’d be on a date. What the FUCK was he actually doing? He was acting so fucking awkward now- everything had been easier before. Why did Dustin have to open his big mouth about this?
“Just driving sounds great.” you said, and Eddie once again tried to relax. Every girl he had been with had wanted something from him. Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan just wanted bragging rights that they got with the freak, and Paige had wanted him to be a rock hero. What did you want from him?
“Have you eaten?” It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t really early in the evening either. His uncle always asked him that whenever one of them got home, and it had taken Eddie an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was Wayne’s way of showing that he cared. 
“I could eat.” you replied, which at least gave this... whatever this was, some structure for the night. Eddie didn’t have a lot of cash on him, but he could probably scrape together enough to get you each a burger or something. 
When the Iron Maiden tape clicked off and spat itself out, you took it upon yourself to pull it out and look it over. “Got any other tapes in here? I need to judge your music taste.” 
That made Eddie laugh “You and every other person in this town. I have a few more tapes in here.” He tapped on the center console which you eagerly dug into, flipping through the different cassettes with eagerness. 
“Metal. Metal. Metal. Metal.” You said, going through each cassette one by one. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, Eddie.” 
“What gave it away?” He said deadpan. “Was it that I play guitar or the fact that we’ve only bonded over music so far?”
“And Chris Morrison.”
“And Chris Morrison.”
“It was your hair, actually. You look so much like Eddie Van Halen it’s actually uncanny.” You looked up from the tapes and he could feel your eyes studying his face. He was glad that it was dark out now, as he could feel warmth rising in his cheeks at the comparison. Was that a compliment? Were you into him looking like Van Halen? 
“Van Halen?” Eddie asked. “I figured I was more of a Kirk Hammett type.”
“The hair yes,” you agreed, still staring at his face as he continued to drive. “But your smile is definitely more Van Halen.”
When was the last time someone had ever looked at him with that much consideration before? Something in Eddie’s gut twisted as he glanced over at you for a split second to meet your eyes. Huh, that was weird. Had anyone made him nervous like this before? Yeah he’d been attracted to Paige but this was starting to feel different. 
He really needed a cigarette right about now. 
“I hope that’s a compliment.” Eddie managed to say as he fumbled for the packet of Camels in the cupholder by him. 
“Oh, it is. I promise.” you replied, digging out a lighter and helping him light the smoke in his mouth. The world's tiniest supernova...
Eddie hated that the closest thing he had to compare notes on when it came to a healthy romance was two months with Paige and a handful of movies that he barely watched. 
You went back to his tapes, and seemed to pick one out. You removed the tape that had been spat out, put it back in the appropriate case (which Eddie found himself appreciating), and he was surprised to hear the old riffs of Muddy Waters playing. 
“A palate cleanser.” you said, leaning back into the passenger side seat. 
Eddie felt his mind reeling from your choice of music. Muddy Waters had been how his mom introduced him to rock at a young age. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the well loved tape as he pulled into the drive in of the next fast food joint he’d seen. 
When he pulled up to the window to pay, a fresh ten was shoved in his face before he could even reach for his own wallet. It took a moment for him to realize that you were wanting to pay. 
“You got me out of work early, it’s the least I can do.” you said, not giving him the option to say no as cash was exchanged for a bag of questionable but cheap food. You held the bag in your lap as Eddie started making his way out of town. 
“So is this an ‘eating van’ or a ‘non-eating van’?” you asked, messing with the top of the bag. 
“I think I’d starve if I didn’t eat in here.” Eddie snorted. “Knock yourself out.”
You wasted no time digging into the fries and taking a few for yourself as Eddie went to the only place that he could afford to take you right now that might be date worthy. 
Luckily, Lover’s Lake was quiet and private on weeknights. If Eddie had taken two minutes to plan this better, he would have thought to maybe clear out the back of his van and set out a blanket and have a picnic. When it came to music and D&D he was great at planning out details, with dates? Not so much. 
This isn’t a date. He reminded himself for the hundredth time tonight. She’s just a girl that you ran over to spend time with the second it occurred to you that she might have an interest in you and she really willingly hopped in your van and your friends actually like her-
Shit. This had to be a date right? Neither of you had said the word but that’s what it was... right? 
Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts with the sweet smell of hot potatoes and grease was wafting under his nose. You had shoved a few fries in front of his face and Eddie wasted no time in taking them. You continued to absently feed him fries as he found a spot to park.
The two of you divided up the food on his dashboard, and Eddie rolled down the windows to let the cool autumn air in. 
“So... what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Eddie asked, wincing internally. When was the last time anyone he knew had dressed up for Hallowen? Okay, so Hellfire Club did tend to dress up on Halloween for a special one shot but that was different- no one came to school in costumes anymore.
“It depends on my plans.” you answered. “Halloween is on a Thursday so I’m usually working. If I have a morning shift I’ll probably do zombie makeup for work, if Steve and Robin are working with me that day I think we’re gonna attempt to be Luke, Leia, and Hans.” 
“And are you gonna be Leia?” Eddie asked. 
“Ideally, I wanted to be Chewie but I don’t have the time for that.” you laughed. “Robin and I voted on Steve to Be Leia. Robin will be Luke, and I’ll be Hans Solo with a teddy bear.”
“Please tell me that Harrington isn’t going to be in the bikini.” Eddie laughed. 
“Keith said costumes had to be work appropriate so, sadly, Steve will not be gracing the store with his sweater-vest chest hair under a bra.” You sighed dramatically. “It’s like he hates the idea of us having fun!” 
“What if you have to close?” Eddie prompted, adjusting in his seat to lean against the door to face you as best he could. Next time he was absolutely clearing out the back to give you both more room. 
“Oh, I am not closing.” you said firmly. “And if Keith thinks he can schedule me that day he can suck it because I have plans.” 
You already have Halloween plans. Of course you would. It’s not like you had to worry about school on a weekday like he did. Eddie tried not to deflate in front of you and remained calm. 
“And what plans would that be?” he asked. 
“Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 
He had, once, with Reefer Rick a few months ago when picking up his usual supply. A quick pick up had turned into a game of pool, which had turned into the two of them high on Rick’s couch watching an old VHS tape while Rick laughed his ass off and yelled at the tv before passing out in the middle of Tim Curry seducing Brad and Janet. 
“Once.” Eddie said, not giving the exact details of circumstance. “With a friend, I didn’t really get it.” 
“Did you see it in theaters or did you just watch it at home?” you asked, finishing off your food. 
“Friend’s house.” 
“Oh, no wonder you didn’t get it. Rocky Horror is an experience, you can’t just pop the tape in and watch it. You have to come see it in a theater.” As you spoke you were absently folding a napkin in your lap turning it into what looked like a heart. When you were done with that one, you started with another shape with a different napkin. 
“Is that an invitation?” Eddie asked, tearing his eyes away from the way your fingers moved for now. He found his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if you were actually wanting him to come to this, and from the knot forming in his stomach as the shapes you were folding reminded him of the times he met you before. 
“It is.” you confirmed, the ninja star you had shaped with the napkin was placed on the center console as you grabbed another napkin. “...It could also be a date.” 
Despite the period at the end of the sentence, Eddie heard the slight waiver in your voice on the word date. It was that same nervous stammer that had been in Paige’s voice when she offered to let him move in with her in California, it was the same hesitant inflection that one of his Hellfire players used when they weren’t sure if Eddie would approve of what crazy plan they had for their character. 
Aside from that first awkward meeting at the Palace Arcade, you had been pretty confident and upfront with him. Now here you are, laying out your intentions and seeing what he would do. 
What would he do? Eddie had shown up at Family Video with no real plan. He only knew he wanted to see you again, and he knew that Dustin and Steve were trying to set you two up. And it’s not like Eddie was completely against the idea of going on a date with you. You were sharp, and you kept him on his toes, and when you smiled at him it felt like his brain might short out. 
But he had also panicked when he had thought that you were going to kiss him before. After Eddie’s disastrous break up with Paige two years ago, it’s not like he’d been completely against any physical relationships. There had been a grand total of two other hook ups that he’d sabotaged. People weren’t interested in getting to know the freak, they just wanted to say that they had been with him. So both times, Eddie had made sure that he’d been a lousy date and a decent enough lay before deciding that he’d rather had a date with his right hand and a Heavy Metal magazine.
Eddie would rather the rumor mill call him a boring date rather than set a standard that he’d go out with anyone who asked. He wondered if he had, would Steve have put his name on the town marquis for the world to see? Would Eddie ‘the Slut’ Munson be treated any differently than Eddie ‘the Freak’?
Shit, you were still waiting for a response. 
“A date.” Eddie finally managed to echo your last words back at you. The napkin you had been messing with in your hands was now taking the shape of a ninja star. 
“I mean, if you’re interested.” you said quickly. “It could just be a friend thing. Or you probably already have plans for Halloween-”
“I don’t.” Eddie interjected. “It could be a date.”
He watched your shoulders relax and you smiled up at him. “It’s a date then.” You grabbed a napkin and your green marker out of your bag and scribbled something down, handing it over to him. 
“In case your phone blows up again, here is the date and time and location for the Halloween showing of the movie.” your eyes narrowed slightly at him. “And my work schedule has been hectic but I consistently work on Sunday’s and clock out at four.”
Eddie got the message loud and clear, he would know where to find you now. There wouldn’t be any excuses for not reaching out, but two could play at this game. He took the marker from your hand and grabbed his own napkin, scribbling his own phone number down and handing it over to you. 
“I’m at school all week, but I still play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.” He answered back. “Friday is Hellfire.”
With that, the playing field felt a little more level. Both of you now had the power to track the other one down or call when needed.   
“So what are you going to be for Halloween?” you asked, tucking the napkin with his number into your bog. 
“Oh, haven’t you heard? When you’re the town freak every day is Halloween.” Eddie chuckled. 
“So what, you’re gonna put on a polo and khakis instead?” He liked the way you scrunch your nose when you laughed. “Ditch the jewelry and cover your tattoos?” 
“That would probably scare some of the teachers at school.” Eddie had considered doing exactly that, but he really didn’t think he’d want that kind of attention. “No one dresses up at school anymore.”
“Boring.” You sighed. “I tried dressing up for Halloween my senior year but when I got to school my friends convinced me to change clothes.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type to let other people tell you what to do.” 
“Now I’m not.” you shrugged. “I’m not in high school anymore, and all those people that I saw everyday? Turns out I was only friends with them because I saw them every day. Once you get away from that forced routine you realize that it’s all bullshit.”
Eddie could relate, probably better than anyone else. He was so sick of the day to day hierarchy of highschool that he’d scream it from on top of a table. Literally. 
“What were you trying to be before your friends killed your fun?” Eddie asked. 
“A pirate. It was last minute but I had a bandana, an eyepatch, a sock puppet with feathers glued to it for my parrot, and a wire hanger I was carrying around as a hook.” you laughed at the memory. “I ended up dropping the eyepatch before my friends made me change because I kept running into people. My wire hanger was confiscated, some asshat stole my parrot, and one of my friends gave me a sweater to change into. I didn’t even make it to first period in that outfit.”
Eddie had made it a point to not pay attention to anyone outside of his small group at school, only ever keeping an eye out for lost sheep that didn’t have anywhere else to go. He wondered, if he had seen you that morning in the brief window before you were pushed back into conformity would he have noticed you? Talked to you? You had already been nice to him before. 
“Wait,” Eddie over at you, taking in the picture you had painted for him. “You made a sock puppet parrot?”
“I needed a parrot, or else no one would get it!” you explained. “But then when I took it off and left it to go use the bathroom it was gone. I finally found the thief in fourth period because they kept playing with it and squawking my own parrot at me. But by that point I had just cut my losses and had given up on Halloween.”
“Are you usually this crafty?” Eddie asked, once again looking at the final napkin you were folding into what looked like an old cootie catcher. 
“I get bored easily.” you said. “If I don’t have something to do with my hands I can’t focus.”
“How’d you start with the whole-” Eddie grabbed one of his slightly used napkins and gave it a wave. “Folding thing?”
“Fourth grade show and tell.” you said. “I did not prepare anything and so I spent a full ten minutes in the school library to find something to show. I found a book on origami, found the easiest thing to make and realized that I actually enjoyed it.”
If that was a mystery, it sure did get solved right there. Eddie wanted to ask about Steve and Dustin. He wanted to ask you why him? He could keep his mouth shut, let this whole thing play out and see what happened. Eddie could sit here, and enjoy the fact that a girl was giving him the time of day and leave everything up in the air just like he had with Paige. 
“So I heard you and Steve had a deal going on.” Eddie said. “Something about getting dates?”
You froze for a second, the completed cootie catcher in your hands. Things were dead silent for a grand total of ten seconds. Ten agonizingly long seconds. Even the cassette player had clicked off and was now whirring as it rewind the Iron Maiden tape. 
Then you started laughing. A lot. 
“Jesus, Eddie!” you said, wiping your eyes with the ninja star as a tear threatened to spill down your cheek. “I tell you I have origami as a hobby, and you follow up with ‘So I heard you and Steve are trying to get dates.’ Seriously?”
Eddie remained silent at your reaction, trying to process your laughter. You didn’t seem scared or nervous that he had called you out, and he had to admit that he hadn’t completely thought through the consequences of asking you that question. 
“Who blabbed?” You asked, after your laughter had calmed down. 
“Henderson.” Eddie admitted and, in an attempt to ease any lingering tension he leaned forward to rest his elbow on the center console and held his chin in his hand as he looked at you. “That shrimp informed me that you found me so irresistible that you begged Steve to set you up with me.”
“Is that right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 
“Oh yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Told me all about how ever since Chris Morrison shot you down, you’ve been desperate to get my attention to get back at him.”
“So which is it, am I attracted to you or am I using you to get back at a guy I talked to once in high school years ago?” you asked. Eddie saw a glint in your eyes, the same one he’d seen that first night at the arcade when at the air hockey table. 
“Both are true.” Eddie continued to explain, a shit eating grin on his face. “You see, you were originally going to use me to get back at Chris, but then you saw me play guitar and instantly fell in love.”
“Damn, this sounds like the plot of a terrible movie.” you laughed. “So is this the part where I tell you that ‘It started out like that, but I swear it’s not like that anymore!’? Do I beg on my knees that my feelings for you are genuine, even though we’ve hung out a grand total of two-and-a-half times?”
Five times, but who’s counting? 
“What’s the half-time?” Eddie asked. 
“You ditched me at the arcade after I said I’d be right back.” you stated matter-of-factly. “I’m hoping it’s not a pattern where you start dropping off the face of the earth just when things start getting good.”
“Between you and me,” Eddie leaned in closer. “I thought Dustin was trying to set me up with Steve. Not you.” 
Cue more laughter from you as you threw your head back. “Are you kidding me?! Dustin makes me and Steve show up to an arcade and tries to force a meeting with you- and you thought you were supposed to be dating Steve?!” 
“Not dating!” Eddie clarified quickly. “You see, Steve and I only have one thing in common and that’s Dustin Henderson. Kid practically worships Steve. I thought he was trying to get us to be friends or something.”
“Oh my god, you thought Dustin was trying to hook his two dads up!” Your cootie catcher was now crumpled up in your hands, stained with tears from your laughing. “I’m a homewrecker!” 
Yeah, this really wasn’t going the way Eddie had expected it. 
“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” you said, your laughter calming down into giggles instead. “Have I been reading this whole thing wrong? I mean, if you have more of an interest in Steve I could probably set that up. He’s only ever shown interest in girls but you have long hair and are pretty enough-”
“No.” Eddie said. “I don’t have an interest in Steve- you think I’m pretty?” How were you able to throw him off so easily? He could tell that if you had been able to join Hellfire you would have been a menace at his table.
“Extremely.” you said, your voice more sincere now. 
The two of you just stared at each other for a while and Eddie felt that same twisty feeling in his gut again. You thought he was pretty. That was good, right? Did you like pretty boys? You were pretty- he liked that a lot. 
“I...” Eddie started and then dug deep inside himself to find the words he wanted to use. “Prettier than Steve?” Those were not the words he wanted to say, but he said them anyway. 
“Steve is conventionally attractive but, as I said before, not my type.” you said. “I like guys with long hair anyway.”
Eddie really couldn’t tell if he was nailing this or blowing it. “So, what is your type?” 
“I’ll tell you mind if you tell me yours.” you countered. 
Had Eddie ever really thought about what his type was? Yeah, he’d had ill-advised crushes and had been attracted to various women in comics and tv but did he have a type? He tried to connect all the girls in his mind that he’d been with, trying to find a pattern. 
Someone who actually pays attention to me. That’s pretty sad, Eddie. He came to the conclusion. Yeah, aside from his disastrous kiss with Ronnie five years ago, every girl he’d been with had been the one to show interest first, and you were no exception. But had he actually had feelings for the others? Not really. Attraction? Yeah. Feelings? Well, with Paige he had been far too busy dealing with Corroded Coffin, his dad, and school to really decide what he felt for Paige. Any other small flings had been dead on arrival.
So why did he keep wanting to spend time with you?
“Don’t go spreading this around,” Eddie started. “But if I had to pick a type, it’d be She-Hulk.” 
“She-Hulk?” you mulled that over in your mind. “So tall, green, and angry?” 
“Strong-willed, and funny as shit.” Eddie corrected. 
“And green.”
“And green.” 
“If I had known that earlier I would have picked Kermit the Frog as my Halloween costume this year.” you teased. “I don’t have a character off the top of my head, but I like people who feel.. Real.”
Real. The word that Paige and him had used over and over in those two months. 
“What’s real to you?” 
“Not high school.” you said. “Someone who’s not afraid to exist and be themselves. I’m most attracted to anyone who can let go of their desperate ego and just have fun. High school was boring because everyone was so wrapped up in their own bs of looking cool that they didn’t do anything that they actually wanted to do. Shit, even I fell into that.”
Eddie didn’t want to ask if he was real to you. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for an answer. There were lots of times he wished that he wasn’t still in school, but this time really hit harder. He was starting to really like you, and yeah part of him was terrified of that. 
The two of you finished off the last of your food and Eddie shoved all the leftover trash into the brown bag and tossed it in the back so you wouldn’t be stepping on it. 
“I don’t know much about real anymore, but I think you’re pretty badass.” Eddie finally said. “I mean, you brought a wire hanger and a fake parrot to school for a costume. That’s pretty brave, even if your friends did talk you out of it.”
“I’m more mad that the parrot was stolen and used to annoy me than the lack of costume.” you said with a small laugh. “They weren’t even funny. They just kept repeating what I said. It was easier to just shut up at that point.” 
“Didn’t think to make them say anything embarrassing?” 
“Oh, I tried. But, jocks don’t know the art of a good ‘Duck Season, Rabbit Season’ gag. Anything embarrassing I said they’d just turn it around. I’d say ‘I pissed myself in gym.’ they’d reply with ‘you pissed yourself in gym’. No love for comedy.” You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “If you’re going to be a bully, at least give me a good story to tell later, you know?”
“I once got slammed against a locker by a jock who called me ‘a myriad freak.” Eddie said. “To this day, I still don’t know what he was trying to mean by that.”
“See? At least that’s funny.” you said, and then. “Holy shit, we’ve gotten off topic.” 
“There was a topic?” Eddie leaned back on the seat again. 
“Yes, an important one that I was very interested in before we started talking about bullies and high school and She-Hulk.” you nodded. 
Talking to you was so easy that he hadn’t realized how many topics the two of you had blown through in a short amount of time. He looked at his watch real quick and realized it was creeping towards 11 pm now. Had the two of you really been talking that long?
“What topic was it?” 
“You flirting with me.” you said, your lips pulling back in a cheshire grin. “I’m pretty sure you were at least, before I became a homewrecker between you and Steve. Normally I’d hate to break up a happy family, but I might have to make an exception this one time.”
“Was I flirting?” Eddie tilted his head with his own grin. “I’m pretty sure I was just telling you that I thought Dustin was trying to make me be friends with Steve. If I had known that the shrimp was trying to introduce me to a cute girl-” He would have shot it down and canceled Side Quest Day- “I wouldn’t have left the way I did.”
“You think I’m cute?” 
“Extremely.” 
You nodded. “Alright, then it’s a good thing that we’re going on a date. I’m glad to know that I’m not coming between you and Steve.”
It was just past midnight when Eddie dropped you off at your apartment that night. This time when you leaned over the center console towards him, he didn’t freeze up or panic. Eddie let you hug him and he hugged you back, his cheeks growing hot momentarily when he felt your lips press against his cheek and he was able to breathe in your scent. 
“See you later, Eddie. Oh, and for the movie- I highly recommend dressing up.” you looked him up and down. “Actually, just wear what you’d normally wear. I think you’ll fit right in.” 
Eddie made a mental note to ask Rick later on what he was supposed to wear for this. 
“I’ll call you.” he said. “I promise. I mean it this time.”
“Not if I call you first, I have your number now. And worst case scenario, I know where you play.” you responded. “See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 
And with that you were gone again, leaving Eddie alone in the van feeling much better than the last time he had given you a ride. There were still questions he had. He still wanted to know why exactly everyone was wanting the two of them to meet again, and why you always so readily agreed to meet up with him. But those were questions for another day. 
“You had a missed call.” Wayne said as Eddie made his way into the trailer. “Didn’t leave a name or number. Said she’d call you back.”  
Eddie laughed and shook his head, guess you meant it when you said you’d call first. 
“Don’t stay up too late watching tv.” Eddie said before heading towards his bedroom. He once again found himself falling asleep with his copy of The Hobbit, the origami flower tucked safely in the back. 
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Next Chapter
Ending note: This fic takes place during October 1985. Stephen King’s It did not come out until September 1986. I would like to ask you all politely to suspend your disbelief for the historical inaccuracy of a piece of dialogue that probably didn’t add much to the plot. If this horrible inaccuracy bothers you, please repeat to yourself “it’s just a fic, I should really just relax” which is what most of us should be doing anyway.
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirl320 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3 @siriuslysmoking @pookiesnatcher @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @takemetoneverlandbabe @killjoynotes @maelibo
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lookninjas · 7 months ago
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What can I say, it's a metal kind of summer for me.
Anyway, pick a song from a bad description! You do not have to recognize any of the songs from the descriptions (she says, despite literally having written a description with the song title and band name in it). Just go by vibes. Go by what you think is funny, or interesting, or sounds like something you could headbang to.
At the end of the week, I will take all the songs and put them into a playlist, from the song with the least amount of votes from the song with the most. If you would like to hear the playlist, leave a comment or put it in the tags, and I'll tag you when I've got the playlist up. And if you really want to know what a song is and don't want to wait, shoot me an ask and I will answer you.
And please reblog the playlist! These are my little mixtapes that I send out to tumblr with love. The more people that I can give my mixtapes to, the happier I will be.
Also, you know, the songs always go hard as hell, and you will want to hear them. Seriously.
Anyway, have a good week, headbang safely, and remember that if someone goes down in the pit, we pick them back up and get them to safety.
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merthurians-prat-and-idiot · 3 months ago
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9-1-1 Buddie 8x06 coda (major spoilers!)
The spirit of Eddie Diaz possessed me and here this is! V unedited as its almost 4am for me but enjoy!
Also on Ao3
🚒💫
"Did you shave your moustache?"
Its not the first thing Eddie had been expecting Buck to mention, when he'd waited him out to hear what was going on.
But, another part of Eddie sparks just a little. Something saying 'he noticed'.
Eddie shaved his trauma based facial hair, put on a song and danced around like he was a kid again. Like he was stealing the mixtape Adriana's boyfriend made her, blasting it full volume while everyone was at church and he blagged a pulled muscle from baseball practice (he only got away with that because the only thing worse to Ramon Diaz than a son, 'a man of the house' being taken down by a sore leg, was his son ditching the match and embarassing them). He would jump the stairs in twos or sometimes threes in time with the music, slide down the bannister, knee slide across the kitchen floor- playing every song on a loop (ignoring the way his heart flopped in his chest when Adri's boyfriend whispered his dedications between songs).
He'd let loose in his own house this time, joy bursting within him and then his door had been knocked on, his best friend came in, sat beside him and noticed it all.
Or, at least the moustache.
And probably the shirt, underpants and socks look.
Plus he was pretty sure Buck was sitting on the fly swatter air guitar right now.
Eddie grins unabashedly, feeling his smooth upper lip tug.
"Yeah I did, what'd you think?"
He gives his best pout just for-
Buck exhales a laugh, his head ducking with a just there smile.
There it is.
"Suits you- not that uh- not that the whole, what did Chim call it?"
"Magnum"
"Right! Magnum look didn't- but it was kinda getting a bit too similar to Gerrard and that is not a mix up I want to be part of"
Eddie snorts.
"Were you actually worried about accidentally greeting him as me? He'd sure learn a hell of a lot about racoons if you did"
"Hey- racoons are adorable and they're super intelligent!"
Eddie raised his hands in acquiesce.
"I'm not saying anything against racoons Buck, you've pleaded their case already and besides, Christopher-"
He cuts himself off and watches Buck suck in a small breath.
"Christopher loves them too"
It doesn't hurt quite so much. He finds himself smiling again.
"So, the moustache the only thing you noticed?" he sinks further into the couch, shoulder brushing Buck's.
"I figured you'd just put all your other clothes in the wash" Buck gestures up and down at him with a smirk.
He gets an eyeroll in return.
"What about you?" Eddie asks.
The question is light, but Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn't getting curious, watching the way Buck seems to curl back into himself, a halligan settling back across his shoulders.
He lets the silence linger for a moment the way he knows Buck needs.
Finally there's a sigh.
"Tommy broke up with me".
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earthlyangelbby · 17 days ago
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Cupid's Curveball: mini chapter 2.5: The Journal Entries
mini chapter 2.5: The Journal Entries
1.4k words
Previous Chapter 2 Next Chapter 3
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Eddie’s Journal Entry 
February 8th, Late That Night
Alright, Munson, let’s get this out of your head because you’re driving yourself insane.
She said it was for Silas. Silas. Some guy with a decent smile and a thing for animals, and apparently, that’s enough to have her all flustered and making mixtapes like it’s some kind of love letter. But damn it, why does every song on this list feel like it’s screaming my name instead?
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“Take It Easy” by the Eagles Yeah, because she always tells me to take a breath when I get worked up about stupid stuff. She’s the one who makes me calm, makes me laugh. “Laid-back and classic,” she said. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
“Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses This one’s supposed to be romantic, right? The kind of song you play for someone who makes your world brighter? I played this in my van once, and she sang along, all off-key and perfect. She said it was one of her favorites. That wasn’t for Silas, was it?
“I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick Alright, that one’s just cruel. If that isn’t what I’m feeling every damn time I see her smile, I don’t know what is.
“Take My Breath Away” by Berlin She laughed when I said it was a bit much, but hell, that’s exactly what happens when she looks at me like I’m actually worth something.
“Somebody to Love” by Queen Freddie gets it. The whole damn song is my internal monologue whenever I’m around her. But yeah, sure, Silas is the guy who needs somebody to love.
“You Really Got Me” by The Kinks No commentary needed here. It’s obvious. She’s got me, alright. Has had me for way too long, and she doesn’t even know it.
“Let’s Go” by The Cars Okay, that one’s practically ours. How many times have we blasted that in the van, singing like idiots? “Adventuring song,” she called it. Damn right, it’s for us, not Silas.
“Crazy on You” by Heart Oh, I get it. She’s got no idea how much I get it. She picked this one, probably thinking it’s just a good song. But it’s a gut punch every time, especially since it’s how I feel every second she talks about someone else.
“All My Love” by Led Zeppelin Now we’re just twisting the knife. This one hurts because I remember showing her Zeppelin’s stuff, watching her light up when I talked about their lyrics. If she’s giving all her love to Silas, where’s that leave me?
“I Was Made for Lovin’ You” by KISS She joked about it, said it’d make Silas think she’d put out. The words pissed me off more than they should’ve. She deserves better than some guy she barely knows. She deserves… more. She deserves someone who’d do anything just to see her smile.
“Hot Blooded” by Foreigner A joke, she said. But it feels like every time I’m around her, my heart’s pounding out of my chest. She doesn’t even have to try.
“Whole Lotta Love” by Led Zeppelin Another Zeppelin track. Another punch to the gut. What the hell does Silas know about love anyway?
“Walk This Way” by Aerosmith Alright, this one’s just fun. It’s us, though. Our energy, our vibe. Not Silas’s.
“Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica This one broke me.
She doesn’t remember, does she? I showed her this song. I told her what it meant to me, how it’s about opening up, letting yourself be vulnerable, and laying it all on the line for someone who matters. I told her it was one of the most personal songs to me. She said it was beautiful. Now she’s putting it on a tape for some guy who couldn’t possibly understand what it means to her or to me.
I didn’t say anything when she picked it. I just wrote it down and forced a smile like it didn’t feel like someone had just ripped my heart out and stomped on it.
I keep telling myself it’s fine. She doesn’t owe me anything. She’s allowed to like who she likes. But damn it, why does it have to hurt this much? Every song, every little joke, every laugh it's like I’m standing on the sidelines watching her slip further away.
She asked me to go dress shopping tomorrow. Said she wanted me there. For what? To help her pick something Silas will drool over? Or to carry her bags and pretend like I’m not in love with her?
I don’t know if I can keep doing this. But the thought of not being there for her? That hurts even worse.
God, I’m a mess.
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Your Journal Entry 
February 8th, Late That Night
Dear Diary,
What is wrong with me? I had the perfect chance to tell him. I made the tape, poured my heart into every song, and then what do I do? I blame it on Silas.
Silas! Who isn’t even real! He’s literally just Eddie’s middle name. And now Eddie probably thinks I’m into some imaginary guy when the whole point of this stupid mixtape was to tell him I’m into him.
How does my brain even work? Like, did I think he wouldn’t notice that every song is one of ours? The ones we jam to? The ones we sing at the top of our lungs in his van? Did I think he’d just shrug it off? Or maybe I was too afraid he’d get it, and I panicked. That’s it. I panicked, and now it’s all messed up.
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The Songs and Why They Were for Him:
1. “Take It Easy” by the Eagles Eddie’s always telling me to relax, to stop overthinking. He’s my “take it easy” guy. This song is him, through and through.
2. “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses This is how I feel when I look at him. He’s so… him. Beautiful in every way.
3. “I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick Self-explanatory, right? I want him to want me. But I couldn’t just say that, so I said it was “fun.” God, I hate myself.
4. “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin Because that’s what he does. Every single time he looks at me.
5. “Somebody to Love” by Queen I don’t want just somebody. I want Eddie. And I want him to know he’s not alone.
6. “You Really Got Me” by The Kinks This one’s for us. For the way we are together chaotic, fun, and perfect.
7. “Let’s Go” by The Cars Our road trip song. Our dumb-adventure anthem. How did he not remember that?
8. “Crazy on You” by Heart Because he makes me crazy. In the best way.
9. “All My Love” by Led Zeppelin He has all of it. My love. Every bit of it.
10. “I Was Made for Lovin’ You” by KISS Flirty, fun—what I wish I could be instead of a nervous wreck.
11. “Hot Blooded” by Foreigner This one’s about the way he makes me feel. My heart races, my cheeks burn… It’s all him.
12. “Whole Lotta Love” by Led Zeppelin This is our song. He’s the one who showed me Led Zeppelin, the one who got all excited explaining why this track was so amazing.
13. “Walk This Way” by Aerosmith It’s loud, wild, unapologetically him.
14. “Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica This one hurts the most. Eddie showed me this song forever ago. He said it was about trust, about letting someone in. He told me how much it meant to him, and I put it on the tape for him. Not for “Silas.” For Eddie.
I can’t believe I let my anxiety mess this up. I wanted to tell him. I really did. But when the moment came, I froze. I couldn’t say it. And now he thinks this was all about some fake guy I made up.
I don’t even know how to fix this. I want to tell him it’s for him that he is the reason for every song, that he is the reason my heart feels like it’s about to burst half the time. But what if I try and it’s too late? What if he doesn’t feel the same?
I hate this. I hate feeling like this. I just… I wish I could tell him.
With hate,
Me
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brewsterispunkk · 2 years ago
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THE TUTOR
eddie munson x reader
part 1/4
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pairing: eddie munson x f!reader, eddie munson x shy!reader (only one use of y/n and I cringed writing it)
rating: 18+ mature! minors be gone!
summary: reader has had a secret crush on Eddie Munson for months, only she has been too scared to tell him. When she’s forced to tutor him, she lets it slip that she feels like she’s missed out on the normal “high school experience.” Eddie aims to change that.
A/N: this has been in my drafts since LAST MAY!!! & i am just now finishing it jfc. this is part one to a series I’m looking to make three parts! I’ll finish it if it’s the last thing I do!
You hated first period. Always had, ever since sophomore year when you’d had AP literature with the juniors and Carol Perkins had made it her life’s work to make your life a living hell.
You didn’t know exactly what you had done to make her hate you so much, but early on in the year, she’d made it abundantly clear that you were going to be her new target. And you, being the only awkward, braces-faced sophomore in the class, had elected to suck it up and take the bullying.
After all, she was telling you everything you already knew; your hair was frizzy, your teeth were crooked, your acne was ugly and awful. The usual things that you, with the same awful self esteem that was characteristic of every knobby-kneed 14-year-old, had already heard and already believed.
Eventually, when your study-buddy and the only other underclassman in the class, Nancy Wheeler, found out about the full extent of the bullying, she’d done something about it. She had just started dating Steve Harrington at that point, and despite his larger than life hair and not so great reputation, he was nice to you by association. He was the one who got Carol to stop.
Still though, you thought that that god-awful year of excruciating first-period classes had ruined them for you for good; conditioned you somehow into expecting the worst from your first class of the day so that now, as a senior, you still dreaded it.
Today was no different.
You tapped your foot distractedly in the back seat of Steve’s car as he pulled out of your neighborhood.
“For the last time, Robin, no you cannot play the new Clash cassette. Put it away—“
“Oh come on, Harrington. It’s good.” Robin sighed exasperated. She’d been your next door neighbor since you were five, and your best friend ever since.
“Oh, oh! Like the new Madonna album?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised as he looked at Robin in the passenger seat.
“Or the Duran Duran one?” You piped in, biting your nails and looking at her expectantly. Immediately, her head whipped back to you, mouth open in a silent gasp.
“Wha—“ she made a choked sound, looking between you and Steve before bringing her gaze back to you, narrowing her eyes. “Who’s side are you on?”
“Uhm, the side of good music.” You countered, playfully sassing your best friend.
“Wow..” she drawled dramatically, interrupting you.
“And right now,” you continued. “Harrington has the better mixtape. Sorry!” You batted her hand away as she reached back to smack your arm.
“Boom!” Steve declared triumphantly, raising his hands from the wheel for a split-second. “Sorry, Robs, we love you but if I have to listen to one more of your mix tapes, I’m gonna—“
“Yeah, yeah! I get it.” Robin was silent for a moment before turning around to glance between the two of you. “You know, every day I remember how it was me that got this little group together, and every day it comes back to bite me in the ass.”
“Oh right,” Steve scoffed. “You’re forgetting, I’ve known y/n since junior year, and I’ve only known you for like, I don’t know, nine months.”
“Okay, but you two weren’t friends.” She gave Steve a pointed look. “It wasn’t until I convinced her to come work with us at Scoops Ahoy that we all started hanging out. So what I should be hearing is ‘thank you Robin.’”
In the rear view, you saw Steve roll his eyes at her antics, a smirk on his face.
“Actually,” you pointed out. “Steve and i hung out almost every day sophomore year.”
“Yeah,” Robin pressed. “But that was because of miss prissy-pants, Nancy Wheeler, not because you two were friends.”
You bristled a bit at your best friend’s name for Nancy. You knew she probably didn’t mean anything by it, but still. She didn’t know Nancy like you did. And Nancy had been nice to you when you didn’t have many friends besides Robin. She’d made it her problem when you were being bullied and did what she could to stop it, when she didn’t have to.
You and Nancy hadn’t really talked much since she and Steve broke up. Even after the whole ordeal last summer, with the mall “fire,” and Russian agents in Hawkins, you two hadn’t really reconnected. But there was no bad blood there. You wished her the best.
“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve interjected. “I think she gets bragging rights for knowing me longer.”
You laughed at that.
“Oh whatever,” Robin shook her head, leaning her elbow on Steve’s open window, bopping her head to the music pouring through the speakers.
“Good god, I don’t wanna be going back there.” She groaned as Hawkins High came into view. “It’s not too late to skip you know.” She craned her head back to look at you, a hopeful look in her eyes.
“I’m highly considering it.” You bounced your knee, trying to relieve some of the tension in your limbs.
“Ugh, no I can’t.” Robin exasperated. “My moms gonna kill me if she finds out I skipped again.”
There goes my chance, you thought, knowing there’s no way you’d skip without her.
“Yeah, I do not miss this place, gotta say.” Steve mused as he pulled into the parking lot. Robin rolled her eyes at him. You chuckled. They fought like an old married couple.
“I have Ms. Taylor first period,” you groaned at the memory of the stern, mean older woman who you had for home room this semester.
“Oh god,” Steve laughed. You smacked his shoulder. “Well, good luck with that. I’ll see you two at 3.”
You and Robin begrudgingly exited Steve’s car, facing the pit of despair known as Hawkins High School.
Thank god this was your last year, you thought to yourself.
As you eyed down the beige brick building, you could’ve sworn you felt a bit of your soul get sucked out. It may sound dramatic, but it was true. You felt yourself retreat into yourself the closer you got.
Something about Hawkins high just did that to people. Made them retreat and put on whatever mask they had to go get through the day. You were no exception.
“Let’s get this over with,” Robin mumbled beside you, beginning to walk toward the doors.
“Let’s.” You sighed back.
- - - - - -
There was one aspect of first period English with Ms. Taylor that you considered a saving grace—not that you’d ever admit it out loud.
Eddie Munson.
You weren’t sure why it started, if you were honest with yourself.
In fact, at the beginning of the year, you, like everyone else, were actually a little bit terrified of the lanky, tall metalhead that the rest of the school had dubbed “the freak.”
Before this year, you hadn’t really had many encounters with Eddie Munson. You’d known of him, sure, but never really interacted with him. Besides the few random outbursts he’d have in the cafeteria, and one time when you’d given him a pencil in your art elective freshman year, you’d kept your distance. Most of what you’d heard about him came from the kids; which meant they were lies, at worst, and exaggerations at best. You could tell they admired him from the way they spoke of him—Dustin in particular, who had spoken of Eddie in the way he’d only ever spoken of one person before: Steve. But that was the extent of your knowledge.
Eddie had been two years ahead of you technically, although now he was a senior, same as you, and stuck in the same miserable first period English class with Ms. Taylor.
It had started out innocent enough, you liked to tell yourself. You weren’t always swooning over him and his leather jackets or studded rings. It had just snowballed.
It had begun like this: it was the first day of your senior year, and to add to your nerves at a new dreadful year, Ms. Taylor had given you, and all your classmates, assigned seats.
Great, you’d thought. Just great. Now you had to sit next to a complete stranger while also being a complete ball of anxiety all class.
You were early. Much to your chagrin, Steve had insisted on picking you and Robin up earlier than usual because it was your first day, and what if you have trouble finding your classes. Completely ignoring the fact that you and Robin had gone to Hawkins High for three years and knew it like the back of your hand.
Still, it had gotten you here, 15 minutes early to the first bell, trapped in a room with no one other than Ms. Taylor, and Eddie Munson himself.
“You’ll be right there, beside Mr. Munson.” Ms Taylor had drawled monotonously, eyes focused on a stack of papers on her desk.
You froze, looking over at Eddie, who was scribbling down in a notebook in the second to last row of desks from the back. He looked up at you for a moment before going back to his writing.
“Did you hear me?” Ms Taylor said your last name. You snapped out of it, smiling over at her and gripping the strap to your backpack before making your way to the seat.
“Yeah. Sorry, Ms. Taylor.”
You sat down rigidly, looking anywhere but at Eddie. Ms Taylor left the room to refill her coffee cup in the teacher’s lounge, leaving you and him the only people in the room.
You felt your hands begin to shake at the impending doom of first period rolling around. You knew it was dumb; it’d been two years since the first-period-from-hell, and you still couldn’t shake your fear of home room. You clasped them together, folding your fingers on top of each other on the desk, trying to calm your breathing. Your heart pounded in your ears.
“Look, you can relax, okay,” Eddie’s annoyed voice beside you snapped you out of it. “I won’t bite.”
You looked over at him, his face looked impatient, though if you looked closely, you thought you could detect a little bit of hurt there too. Your eyebrows furrowed, before you realized what he must have been thinking.
He thought you were scared of him.
It made sense, though that was far from what was going through your head.
“No,” you began quietly, before clearing your throat. “That’s not what I—that’s not—that’s not it.”
“Whatever you say,” he mumbled, eyebrows raised as he continued writing.
That was the day it started. The watching him.
It’d begun as a way of coping; a way to distract yourself from Ms. Taylor’s droning on about Shakespeare, or the whispers of the two mean girls who sat at the front and liked to glance back at you and snicker.
Your therapist had mentioned the method to you a few months before, a way to maybe cope with your anxiety in anticipation with the upcoming school year. It was a method that your shrink had described as a way of ‘hyper-focusing’, or concentrating on one thing until the anxiety wore away.
And in the haze of your first day, you’d focused on Eddie.
But eventually, as the year wore on, it developed into something different.
You began to notice his hair; how it would fall over his face as he frowned in concentration at whatever he was writing in that book. His hands, big and flanked with gaudy silver rings. You began to wonder how they’d feel on your skin, running through your hair, over your stomach.
It was almost a type of game you played with yourself; a form of escapism. On days your anxiety got too much, the days your hands would sweat and your feet couldn’t cease their tapping, you could look beside you and focus on Eddie. And it would all fall away.
You supposed that’s why you kept your little obsession a secret; it was embarrassing.
Not the fact that you were infatuated with him, but the fact that you’d been using practically a complete stranger to talk yourself down from anxiety attacks. You hadn’t even told Robin, the person you shared everything with. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that this wasn’t some little crush or admiration—it was more than that.
But you refused to admit that to yourself, because there was one huge, glaring problem. That being that Eddie Munson hated you. You were sure of it.
It was as if after the awkward encounter you’d shared at the beginning of the year, he avoided you like the plague. Not looking, talking, or even so much as breathing your way once. And the one time when you’d gotten the nerve to ask him a question, he’d barely grunted out a response before the had rung and he was gone.
That had been the first and last time you’d attempted to talk to Eddie Munson. Your crush was doomed, you knew it. Not only were you convinced he couldn’t stand you, you also were almost positive that he still thought you were scared of him, like he did at the beginning of the year.
Which, to be fair, you were. Just not in that way. As far as Eddie was concerned, you were scared of him in the judgy, superficial, ill-intentioned way that the rest of Hawkins was, not in the butterflies, tongue-tied, make-your-hands-sweat way that you truly were.
Besides, even if you were the most confident person in the world (you were far from it), and if Eddie didn’t, for some inexplicable reason, hate you, you were sure that you would have absolutely no chance with him anyway. Because why would Eddie Munson, all crooked smiles and sure steps and kind eyes, be even the least bit interested in you? It was inconceivable. Because you were shy and scared and binary and everything he was not.
So, you’d deduced that you were doomed to wait out this life-ruining crush the same way you’d been doomed to wait out countless other things in your high school life: silently.
- - - - -
Today was no different than the other nearly insufferable first periods you’d endured this school year, aside from the fact that today was Monday, which brought with it a more tired you, and a much, much more irritable Ms Taylor.
She’d assigned two detentions so far this period, to Bradley Green and Doug Mitchell, two boys from the basketball team that had been throwing spitballs and harassing Eddie, who merely smirked at them in response, effectively egging them on.
You glanced at the clock, tapping your foot subconsciously on the off-white tile below your feet.
5 minutes left, you reminded yourself, watching the clock tick down. Your hands started to clam up. Perfect.
You let out a shaky breath. A few rows in front of you, Pam Simpson and Diana Fiorelli glanced back, eyes zeroing in on you, before Pam snickered and leaned over to whisper into Diana’s ear.
This wasn’t new; they always had some off-color remark or an unnecessary eye-roll to throw at you ever since they found out about your close friendship with Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High.
How two nerds like yourself and Robin Buckley had managed to bag someone as popular as Steve the hair Harrington as a best friend seemed to be beyond them, and they sought everyday to punish you for it.
The truth was: Steve had left all of that behind. From the wake-up call that was his break-up with Nancy, to the whole fighting-monsters-from-another-dimension thing, he didn’t really care about it anymore. He’d found better friends in you guys. The whole Russians-in-Hawkins, and Starcourt “fire” helped too.
It was true what they said about trauma: it brought people together.
You tried to ignore their whispering, like Robin had encouraged you.
She was absolutely livid when she’d found out that Diana had “accidentally,” spilled her yogurt parfait over your new blouse last week. It had taken a whole five minutes of both you and Steve talking her down from her stupor to stop her from marching straight to the gymnasium, interrupting cheer practice, and giving Diana a black eye. After though, when you’d managed to calm your best friend down, she’d gone off—trying to convince you to stick up for yourself, to say something. If not to the mean girls themselves, then to Ms Taylor at the very least.
But that was the difference between you and Robin; where she would act, you would listen. Remain passive. It was a trait that served you well when it came to retaining information or solving upside-down-related issues, in situations like these, it kind of screwed you over.
You turned your head from the front of the classroom, blocking out Ms Taylor’s lecture on T. S. Elliot and instead turning your head to the desk beside yours. Eddie’s desk.
He was hunched over, head on his hands, which were crossed and folded on top of the desk in front of him. His chin rested there, and his dark eyes were focused on the board, squinting, as if trying to make out what it said.
He seemed to be trying to pay attention, a stark contrast to how you usually saw him hunched over around his worm notebook, scribbling or drawing.
He wore dark blue jeans today, instead of his usual black ones, and a Quiet Riot band T-shirt . His leather jacket was draped over the chair behind him, as Ms Taylor’s room was hot today. His hair fell messily over his back and in front of his face. His ringed fingers tapped on the desk—he was evidently as anxious for the class to end as you were.
You knew he had trouble focusing. You’d picked up on as much throughout the school year, watching him try and try and try to stay locked in to whatever Ms Taylor was teaching.
So many of your classmates had written him off: cult leader, satanist, idiot, freak, but you saw something different. The Eddie you knew (well, not really knew, more like observed) was none of those things. He was different, yes. Flamboyant, sure. But he was not an idiot. Nor was he evil or freakish or anything of the sort.
The ringing of the bell snapped you from your thoughts. You jerked your head back to your desk as your classmates began to pack up and bustle out to their next classes, the sound of backpacks zipping and chatter filling the classroom.
Per usual, Eddie was the first out of his seat, already packed and ready, before leaving the classroom with long strides, eyes trained on the floor, narrowly avoiding your gaze.
You shoved your notebook into your bag, bending over to zip it up and run like hell out of the classroom. You hoped to avoid any unnecessary contact with Pam and Diane. Ms Taylor cleared her throat, before saying your name.
“I’d like to see you for a moment, please,” she said monotonously, eyes focused on the grade book in front of her. A shot of anxiety spread through your stomach.
“Yes, Ms Taylor?” You asked quietly, noting that you were the only two people left in the classroom.
“You have one of the top grades in the class, second only to Mr. Levy, did you know that?” She asked, still not looking up. You puzzled. So you weren’t in trouble?
“Uh-I-no, I didn’t, actually.” You mumbled, brows furrowed.
“Indeed,” she hummed. “I also have been made aware that you are lacking an extracurricular for graduation, is that correct?”
Shit, you thought. She was right.
Last summer, you’d been set to take a summer gym elective; the ones that the school offered during the school year were too crowded and made your anxiety act up, so you and Robin had both signed up to take summer gym. However, the upside-down and the Russians’ presence in Hawkins at Starcourt had had other plans, so both you and her had failed the class, due to bad attendance. And while Robin had made sure to complete her gym credit last semester, you’d completely forgotten about the whole debacle until now.
“Yeah,” you breathed, in shock that you’d managed to forget about something so important when graduation was only months away. “I-I forgot—“
“I figured as much,” Ms Taylor cut you off, finally looking up at you. “Well, seeing as it’s too late in the semester to sign you up for any electives, it would seem that you’ll be having to repeat your senior year.”
Your breath left your lungs.
No, you thought, no, no, no. The last thing you could handle was another year stuck here. In this high school, in this city. You felt your breathing stutter at the thought.
“Luckily for you,” Ms Taylor continued, refocusing you on the moment. “I have a solution that may just save you from that.”
You blew out a breath between your lips, looking at her anxiously.
“Yes,” you breathed out. “Anything— I completely forgot about—“
“I trust you’re familiar with Mr. Munson?” She interrupted you. Your brows furrowed. What did Eddie have to do with this?
“Yes.”
“Well, then I’m sure you’re aware that this will be his second time repeating his senior year.” Ms Taylor looked up at you now, her beady eyes laser-focused. “If he fails again, the school won’t be giving him another chance. It would seem that this class is one of the only things standing between him and a one-way ticket out of this school.”
“I dont think I follow—“ you began.
“You will tutor Mr Munson.” She clarified, face stoic as ever. “From now until the end of the spring semester. If you do this, and if I see improvement, I will make it count as your extracurricular. You’ll be able to graduate on time, and he will get the hell out of my classroom for good.”
You were stunned—not only by the fact that you’d be forced into proximity Eddie Munson for the rest of the year, but the fact that Ms Taylor would speak so candidly about a student.
“I—I-“ you tried to articulate what to say next, but found you were unable to gather your thoughts.
“I can’t,” you finally managed, dumbly. Ms Taylor raised a thin eyebrow at you.
“Well,” she said. “It seems that unless you want to repeat your senior year, you don’t have much of a choice.”
“But, Ms Taylor, I—“
“Look,” she sighed your name. “You’re a smart girl. Mr Munson may be… a handful, but I promise he’s harmless. You will be fine. You can even meet on the school premises, if you’d feel better about that.”
Dear Lord, you didn’t know how to tell her that the reason why you couldn’t tutor him was not because of his reputation, or that you were scared of him, it was because you could barely form a coherent thought in his presence.
“Are we clear?” She asked, arms crossed. You tried to speak, but your mouth was dry. You just gulped and nodded.
“Good,” she smiled tightly. You sighed, turning to leave, already knowing you’d be late to your next class. She called your name as you began to exit, your hand on the door handle.
“Just know, I will be checking weekly with Mr Munson to see how tutoring is going. So don’t think that if you fail to show up I won’t know.”
You nodded, shutting the door behind you as you left.
Great. No escaping it. What if you embarrassed yourself? What if he really did hate you? What if—
“Hey.”
You jumped, too caught up in your thoughts to even notice the tall, lanky figure leaning up against the lockers next to Ms Taylor’s classroom.
“Jesus, sorry.” Eddie looked at you with wide eyes, an arm coming to steady you on your shoulder. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
When you just stared at him, he cleared his throat, removing his hand from your shoulder. A part of you mourned the loss.
“So, uh,” he began, looking down at his feet as he walked alongside you. You tried not to notice the faint scent of his cologne that sent a thrill through your gut. “So I guess she told you? About the tutoring?”
When his curly head snapped up to meet your eyes, you quickly faced forward, realizing that you’d been ogling his side profile while he was stumbling over his words. You nodded in confirmation.
“Ok,” he said, rubbing his hands on his legs. “Ok,” he repeated, stopping and turning to face you. “I’m just gonna cut the bullshit: I really, really need the help in this class.” His eyes were a bit wild, panicked. Like he thought you were going to run away from him the moment you got a chance. “Like, ‘really,’ as in, if I don’t pass, I don’t graduate. And I know you really don’t wanna do this, and she’s forcing you, and that you hate me, and you’re scared of me, and all that, but if you could please—please— just help me get through this class, I will make it as painless as possible spending all the time with me.”
By the end of his little speech, he looked frantic, like he was pleading—and you suppose he was. And before you could stop yourself, you just nodded, looking at him dumbly, before remembering to speak.
“I’ll help you pass.” Was all you could manage.
He sighed a breath of relief, running a hand down his face.
“Thank you,” he said, and you could’ve sworn it was the most sincere you’d ever heard him. “Thursday after school in the library sound good?”
- - - -
You arrived early, because, of course you did.
To say you were nervous would be an understatement; you were terrified. Mostly of making an even bigger fool of yourself than you had earlier in the week.
You’d spent the better part of the last three days poring over your last interaction with Eddie in the hallway, when he’d begged you to tutor him, and you’d gotten about five words in edgewise.
He’d practically accused you of hating him, and instead of correcting him—like you’d been dying to do for the whole semester—you stood there like an idiot.
You wished you’d told him then and there in that hallway that he was wrong; that you weren’t scared of him, and that you didn’t hate him. That you were just shy and awkward and he unnerved you. So, you decided to do just that.
Last night, while finally talking through the whole situation with Robin, you’d decided that the first words you’d say to him would be: “I’m not scared of you and I don’t hate you.”
It was a bit abrasive and to-the-point, you knew that. But, you also knew that if you let him get a word in before that, you’d lose your nerve. At least this way, you got your point across.
Your eyes ran over the page of your book for what felt like the fiftieth time. You sighed, throwing the worn novel down on the table.
There was no way you’d be able to get any reading done, not with your nerves eating you alive.
The book wasn’t that good anyway. You had no clue what Robin meant when she said Hemingway was ‘profound.’
You sighed again, eyes finding the clock in the library.
He was five minutes late.
You felt something deflate inside you. Maybe he’d been bluffing about the whole thing, or maybe he’d changed his mind and wouldn’t show. Your mind ran with the possibilities.
The library was sparse at this time.
It was just past three, and most students had already rushed out of the building. It was Thursday, which meant that the town was just waking up for the weekend. It wasn’t uncommon for friend groups to have small get-togethers, or even for one of the bigger cliques to throw a party.
In fact, Steve had managed to convince Robin and yourself to attend one later that night. Which was a feat, because you didn’t make a habit of going out.
It was at Darren’s house: one of the few friends from high school that Steve actually kept up with after, y’know, everything.
Robin was hoping Vicky would be there. You were just hoping to let loose a little.
With all this business with Eddie and your impending (maybe) graduation, your nerves had been through the roof. A party was just what you needed to calm down.
“Sorry,” he appeared out of nowhere, and before you could stop yourself, you jumped.
“Sorry!” Eddie rushed out, slumping down in the chair across from you. “Really, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you all the time. Sorry I’m late.”
You stared at him.
God, he was pretty.
His hair was big and frizzy, per usual, and fell around his face as a halo. His brown eyes were wide and almost doe -like, and his cheeks were rosy with exertion.
He must have been running, you thought. But why? He wasn’t that late.
“Were you running?” You blurted before you could think. Your brows furrowed as you looked at him.
“Uhhhh, yeah,” he drawled. “Yeah, I ran into some trouble getting here.”
“What trouble?”
“The usual.” Eddie rubbed his eyes, and for the first time since he’d sat down, you noticed how disheveled he looked.
His white tee shirt was stained on the shoulder with what looked like… fruit?
“Is that… food on your shoulder?”
“Shit,” his gaze snapped to his shoulder. “Yeah, uhm. It’s jello.”
Eddie looked… embarrassed. For the first time in the time you’d known him, he looked sheepish.
“Was it Jason?”
“That obvious?” He laughed mirthlessly. In fact, it was a little menacing.
“He’s a dick.” You said without thinking.
Eddie just nodded, staring down a place on the table.
“Are you okay?”
He looked at you, dark eyes guarded.
He seemed to be sizing you up, eyes following you up and down. But his usual playfulness was gone. Instead, he looked almost… forlorn.
“Uh, yeah.” His lips lifted into a humorless smile. “Just done with this bullshit, I guess.”
“Hmm,” you hummed.
“I’m tired of people looking at me like I’m a freak. I’m tired of not behind able to fucking walk to class in peace, I’m tired of people being fucking,” he slammed his hands on the table in front of you. When you jump, he throws them up. “Scared of me!”
You stay silent for a moment, letting him stew and collect himself. After a few seconds, Eddie sighs.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—“
“I’m not scared of you, and I don’t hate you.”
“—mean to��what?”
“I’m not scared of you.” You repeated, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans. “And I don’t hate you, like you said on Monday. I’m Im just,” you stopped to take a breath. “It’s just hard for me sometimes. With… new people.”
“You sure? Because you look scared to me.”
“You aren’t helping.”
Eddie shivered, rubbing at the jello-colored stain on his shoulder.
“Do you… want to change?” You asked shakily.
“What?”
“Nevermind,” you rushed out, shaking your head. “It’s nothing. You just—looked cold. I have an extra sweatshirt.”
“And you think it would fit me?”
“I like to wear them a few sizes too big.” You added lamely.
Eddie contemplated you for a moment, before sighing.
“What the hell,” he said half to himself. “Why not?”
After he pulled the lilac crew neck over his head, he smiled.
“Okay,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry. Thank you for doing this. I know it can’t be great for your…image.”
You snorted at that.
“Yeah, my image isn’t exactly suffering.”
“Yeah?” He leaned forward, setting his chin on his fists.
God, his forearms. You forced yourself to look away.
“Yeah. Not exactly prom queen here.”
“Eh, prom queen is overrated.”
You laughed, your own crinkling eyes meeting his. You thought you saw his eyes soften as they looked at you. The vision of him there, in front of you, made your stomach flip.
You cleared your throat, turning to your notes in front of you.
“So,” you straightened your notebook. “Ready to talk about T. S. Elliot?”
- - - -
The party was loud. Mötley Crüe boomed through the speakers that Darren’s rich family had in what seemed like every room.
You silently thanked Darren for having good music taste. The party would have been unbearable otherwise.
You sighed as you walked out the back door of the house. The inside had gotten a bit too stuffy for you, and with Robin trailing after Vickie and Steve reconnecting with one of his old flames, you were flying solo for the time being.
You brushed your jeans with your hands before sitting down on the back step, a lukewarm rum and coke in the solo cup in your hand.
You felt yourself deflate.
As a senior in high school, this was the closest you’d come to actually living.
While Robin had had her fair share of secret flings and parties and Steve had lived a wild four years of high school, you were just… there.
At eighteen years old, you felt like you’d missed out. Been robbed. The Upside Down had something to do with that, you supposed. Fighting for your own and the kids’ lives from Russians and other-worldly demon creatures tends to do that. Still, it didn’t stop your friends from living. You felt like you’d let your teen years pass you by, but mostly, you felt pathetic.
Sure, you had the grades, but rather than that? You had nothing to show for your time at Hawkins High.
“Hey tutor,” the smooth drawl came from the side of the house. You’d know it anywhere.
Eddie rounded the corner of the house, approaching where you were sitting on the back step.
He wore the same black jeans he wore earlier today, but his jello-stained shirt and your lilac crew neck were gone, replaced by a t-shirt with what looked like Judas Priest’s logo. His arms were crossed over his chest, covered by the black leather he wore more often than not.
“Hey,” you offered lamely, rubbing your hands together.
“What ya doing out here all alone?” He came to stop in front of you, his chunky combat boots taking up your line of vision.
“Just…taking a breather.” You smiled up at him, tight-lipped.
“Hmm,” he hummed. “Scoot over, then. It’s a little too… preppy for me in there.”
You obliged, scooting over a few feet so he could sit next to you. As he dropped down on the concrete step next to you, he was close enough that you caught his scent.
It was deep, some kind of cologne, mixed with cigarette smoke and a hint of what you knew was weed.
“So…” Eddie bumped his shoulder into yours. “Thought this wasn’t your crowd?”
“It’s not,” you pressed your hands between your knees. “Robin and Steve dragged me here. I thought it would help me… unwind.”
“Robin… she’s in band right?”
You nodded.
“And Steve… I don’t think I know that one.”
You chuckled.
“You definitely do,” you peeked over at him, eager to see his reaction. “Uh, Steve Harrington?”
Eddie looked at you like you grew a second head.
“The hair?” He asked incredulously.
“The very same,” you nodded.
“God, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m beginning to question the company you keep.”
Your heart leapt at what he called you. Sweetheart.
“I know, I know,” you held out your hands. “He was an asshole. But he’s different now.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“He is!” You turned to Eddie defensively. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if he was still the way he used to be. He isn’t like…”
“Jason?” Eddie raised an eyebrow at you. “Like Pam and Diana?”
“Exactly.” You nodded. “He’s still… peppy. He just lost all the bad parts.”
“Hmm,” he crossed his arms. “I’ll take your word for it.”
A moment of silence passed between the two of you, the only sounds being your breath and the roar of the party inside. Your breaths swirled in the chilly air around you.
“Why are you here?” You spoke finally. “You said this wasn’t your scene.”
“It’s not,” he shrugged, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little baggy filled with green substance. “I’m, uh, supplying the party favors.”
You snorted at that.
“These things good business?”
“You have no idea.” He nodded to the inside of the house. “A lot of these kids’ allowance is more than what my uncle makes in a week.”
You hummed, content to just sit in silence.
Eddie tilted his head at you, leaning his chin on his hands again like he did earlier in the library. He tilted his cheek toward you, an easy smile on his lips.
“So, why are you really out here, tutor-girl?” He looked at you curiously. “You look upset.”
You drew a heavy breath, before sighing.
“It’s dumb.” You picked at your nails.
“Try me.”
“I feel like..” you looked up, before turning to Eddie. “I feel like I’ve missed out. I’m a senior, I’m graduating this year, and I have done nothing.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t move to interrupt you. He only leans further toward you, spurring you to continue. The alcohol gave you the rest of the confidence you lacked.
“All my friends have had their little rebellions. Their flings, all of it. And I have done nothing, except drink shitty booze and nearly lose my mind.”
You blew a deep breath once you’d finished. Somehow, you felt even worse—more pathetic—now that you’d vocalized it.
But Eddie didn’t look at you like you were pathetic. Instead, he looked pensive, hand on his chin as he contemplated. It was your instinct to backtrack.
You moved to stand
“Sorry. That was a lot. Nevermind. Let’s just forget I—“
“No, no, don’t apologize.” He grabbed your arm and gently pulled you back to sit beside him. “Especially after what I dumped on you earlier.”
Your cheeks were red, you could tell. Whether that be because of the combination of the alcohol and the confession, you couldn’t tell.
“Hmm,” Eddie hummed, still thinking. You snuck a glance over at him and noticed a wry smile on his face. “Let’s fix it then.”
“What?”
“We have til May, don’t we? That’s eight months. Your senior year isn’t over yet.”
You laughed nervously.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that—“
“You’re not! I’m offering. Consider it payback for all the hours you’ll be tutoring me in Taylor’s class.”
“Okay…”
“Okay.” Eddie smiled. “It’s a deal, then .”
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