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multifandomslxt · 8 months ago

Text

Quiet Rage

MDNI

MINORS GO AWAY

Pairing: bsf!Johnny x reader

Synopsis: You wanted to test a theory and ended up making Johnny "Quiet Rage" Suh pissed all the way off. Surely he wouldn't take it out on you though right? after all, you were his best friend.

WARNING: THIS IS SMUT...arguably one of my dirtiest yet. reader is a little shit and Johnny is the quiet guy in the friend group. Johnny in glasses. Dirty and I mean DIRTY talk. spit, sweat, mentions of bruising skin, drooling, overstimulation, exhibitionism via video call, just dirty stuff alright

A/N: This took forever to get out and I apologize for that. it's exam season and I really wanted this out so I pulled some all-nighters. so I apologize for the grammatical errors and so on. I'm very very nervous about this because I did not expect the teaser to get that much attention. but anyway, enjoyyy. @neoculturecollectives @calibabii21

"I swear, Johnny's into you," your girlfriend claims, and you almost spit out your latte. You shoot her a look, throat burning, and coffee dribbling down your chin. "What the hell makes you say that?"

She rolls her eyes, handing you a napkin. "Come on, babe. The guy gives you that intense stare all the time."

You stare at her in disbelief. "He gives everyone that stare. It's just Johnny."

She grunts in frustration. "Y/n, he calls you 'baby' for crying out loud."

You shrug, trying to play it cool. "So? It's not like it's some romantic declaration."

This scenario is all too familiar, and it annoys you. People always misread Johnny and you, trying to turn your perfectly platonic relationship into something more.

"Alright, if you're so confident, come with me to Jay's party tonight," she challenges.

Your heart sinks.

Jay, aka Jaehyun, is her boyfriend, and you've crossed paths quite a bit. But you already know you can't go.

"He doesn't like you like that, right? So let's settle it, Y/n. Let's end the speculation."

"That's dumb. I don't need to prove anything," you argue. But truth be told, your heart is still doing somersaults. You both know why you won't go, or rather, can't.

Johnny has this strict no-party rule for you. Sounds stupid, but it's his way of keeping you safe. One bad experience with some idiot led to this.

"Come on, just this once, and I'll drop it, promise," she pleads.

"Fine" you reply, already feeling your energy drain.

You find yourselves in what's supposed to be Jay's living room turned dance floor.

"Where's that man?" your friend complains beside you.

You hadn't been paying much attention to her anyway. Tonight, you're on a mission to prove a point. Yep, you're scanning for Johnny.

"Yo, ladies!" A familiar voice greets you from behind.

It's Mark. Awkward, cute, and definitely on some kind of high.

weed probably

"Markieee." you smiled and hugged him.

"Have you seen Jay?" your friend asks, not even bothering to greet Mark.

"In the upstairs bathroom," Mark replies, the thumping bass of the music echoing through the house.

"Thanks, y/n, call me if you need me," she says, her voice almost drowned out by the distant laughter and chatter.

"Okay," you agree, even though you know she's most likely going to be too busy to pick up. With that, she confidently stalks off into the lively chaos to find her man.

You're still hugging Mark throughout that, the music's pulsating rhythm vibrating through your bodies, and neither of you makes a move to release the other.

"Markie, how high are you right now?" you ask, half amused and half concerned, the scent of various substances hanging in the air.

"I'm not high," he insists, his words slightly slurred.

Yep, he's as high as a damn kite. "Alright, let's get you seated," you decide, guiding him through the animated crowd.

You hug him a little tighter to your side as you maneuver through the sea of people, completely unaware that the man you had been scanning for was silently observing you from across the dimly lit room.

Johnny tilts his head ever so slightly, the ambient lights flickering, casting enigmatic shadows on his intense expression as he observes you cradling the nearly unconscious Mark in your arms.

"Yo, Johnny! Where you goin'?" Heachan's voice echoes from the kitchen, where the clinking of glasses and laughter weave through the air.

"You can't bail on me now, man. You promised to try this strain with me," Hexhan pleads, his tone a mix of whining and cajoling.

"Another time," Johnny responds tersely, striding away without a backward glance.

Johnny can't fathom any sober reason for Mark to be draped over you like that.

"And you shouldn't even be here," Johnny muses to himself.

"Y/n," his gruff voice calls out, a single word that carries volumes.

You pivot, finding yourself face to face with your long-time best friend, a man whose relationship with you blurs between suspected boyfriend, occasional fling, or perhaps something more permanent.

His towering figure looms over you like an impending storm, his mouth contorted in a sneer, eyebrows knitted in displeasure. A quick appraisal reveals he's opted for a relaxed ensemble tonight—black hoodie and grey joggers, his signature black rimmed glasses resting on his nose.

"Johnny, I've been looking for you. Where the hell were y--"

"Y/n, have I ever told you that your tits make the best pillows ever? Oh my god," Mark interjects, completely oblivious to Johnny's presence.

In one swift motion, Johnny shoves Mark away, causing him to collide with people behind you.

"Johnny, what the fuck!" you gasp, caught off guard.

"What are you doing here, Y/n? I'm only asking once," Johnny demands, his hand firmly gripping the back of your neck, forcefully pulling you into the shelter of his chest.

"Answer the question."

"I'm here for you," you assert, making no attempt to deceive.

"You could've called me if you missed me so much, baby," he responds, his voice softening, and his eyebrows gradually easing.

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to have fun too," you argue.

It becomes apparent that you've made the wrong choice as his hand tightens slightly around your neck.

"Have fun at home. No parties. I'm sure I told you that," his voice remains calm, but the increasing pressure on the back of your neck contradicts his demeanor.

"Go home. Now," he states, leaving no room for argument.

For a moment, your body twitches as if to comply, but it seems you're on a defiant streak tonight.

"No. I'll stay and have fun. I've seen you now, so I'll just go look for the others and enjoy myself," you declare.

He stares at you, a blank facial expression revealing nothing.

"Y/n, baby, go home," he says softly.

Successfully prying yourself from his grip, you retort, "No."

You stalk off, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room, hands straight by his sides, and his gaze unwaveringly black yet watchful.

As you navigate through the crowd, encounter familiar faces here and there.

You find yourself on your umpteenth shot of tequila when, unexpectedly, you're invited to a game of truth or dare, courtesy of Haechan.

Johnny is nowhere to be found, and the absence begins to stir a sense of worry and nervousness within you.

The game had unfolded over an extended period, leaving your mind increasingly hazy with each passing moment. Holding your liquor was never your forte.

You observed as the bottle spun and twirled before ultimately settling on the guy positioned beside you.

"dare" the guy simply said.

"I dare you to kiss y/n," Haechan's slurred yet mischievous voice announced.

As Haechan proclaimed his dare, Johnny ambled into the room, seemingly oblivious to your presence, it left you feeling bothered and angry.

Fine, you mused, if he's going to act that way.

Perhaps it was the influence of the alcohol coursing through your system or some other inscrutable force, but you found yourself impulsively lunging towards the guy next to you. Teeth clashed in a messy, audacious kiss, and, fueled by the audacity of the dare, you dared to explore further by delving your tongue into his mouth.

A cheer erupted from the onlookers, making your heart swell.

Basking in the attention, you pushed the boundaries, only to be abruptly seized by the neck for the second time that night, this time by none other than Johnny himself.

Without hesitation, he mused, "Go to the car and sit. I'll be there soon."

"But, Joh—"

"Go. To. The. Car, Y/n, and shut your fucking mouth. I said I'll be there soon," he asserted, his words punctuated through gritted teeth.

The last ten minutes had passed in utter silence as both of you sat in the car.

When Johnny finally slid into the driver's seat, his gaze never once met yours. Without a word, he started the car and left the party, only sparing you attention when he needed to secure your seatbelt.

The oppressive silence weighed on you.

"That was a fun game, wasn't it?" you ventured, attempting to break the tension.

Silence persisted.

"I bet Haechan has a video of it. Probably gonna send it to the group later," you added, attempting to inject a touch of levity into the atmosphere, though your laughter carried an undercurrent of awkwardness.

"Quit playing with me." He bites back, completely unamused by your attempt at a joke.

Your body stills as you stare wide-eyed at the man beside you. You didn't expect that from him. He wasn't the type to be so aggressive, especially with you.

"I didn't mean for that to happen, John." You said weakly. He had to understand, you were just trying to get his attention.

"But it did y/n and now I'm gonna have to show you what happens when you don't fucking listen" He rages quietly, eyes still on the road ahead.

It was always quiet with him.

little did you know.

To the untrained eye, he seemed cool and collected. But, you could tell he wasn't quite there. Maybe it was the way he squeezed the life out of the steering wheel or how he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. Or, you know, the massive tent in his pants…

either way, you knew

somehow, you managed to piss off Johnny Suh.

"I suggest you start thinking of a way to apologize because you have no fucking idea what I have planned for you." He momentarily looks at you just long enough for you to see the dangerous glint in his eyes

Arriving at Johnny's apartment, you found yourself comfortably settled on his couch while he busied himself in the kitchen, fetching a glass of water for you. Since his remark on the way here, a palpable silence hung in the air.

As he approached you with the glass of water, he broke the silence, "Thought of a way to apologize yet?"

You glanced up at him from your spot on the couch. "I'm sorry. I should've listened to you," you managed to utter, your gaze dropping to the floor, a strange sense of shame washing over you.

He snorted in response, "That's all you came up with, Y/n?"

Meeting his disappointed gaze, you took a deep breath. "I should've known better," you added quietly.

He sighed, handing you the glass of water. "Drink."

Taking the glass from his hands, you started sipping as he watched you in silence. Then, without breaking eye contact, he nonchalantly remarked, "I'm going to fuck some sense into you and then fuck it out of you."

You choked on your water, hastily wiping at your mouth as you stared at him in disbelief.

"Your apology wasn't going to satisfy me anyway. I made up my mind when you said no the first time," he asserted, his tone casual yet loaded with an underlying intensity that left you flustered and strangely intrigued.

"And what if I don't want it." You daringly ask.

you knew you did.

The way he was watching you made that clear as day.

"Then say no." He shrugs

"Now finish the drink and head upstairs when you're done."he adds

and you did exactly that.

Johnny was a man. You knew that, he knew that, and the whole world knew that. But sometimes, it felt like you didn't always keep that obvious characteristic at the forefront of your mind, as you should have.

Entering the room, nothing struck you as special. It was the same as always: his bed in the middle of the space, surrounded by walls adorned with retro posters and pictures he had taken over the years with friends, family, and you. Despite the numerous times you had visited his home, particularly his room, it didn't feel as intimate as it did now, and for some reason, that excited you.

As you let your gaze wander, movement from the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and you turned your focus to a strangely quiet Johnny.

You both stood in silence, staring at each other for what felt like long, drawn-out minutes.

"I didn't think I'd have to tell you to strip, y/n," he said seriosusly.

You hiccup, startled. "E-excuse me?"

He stepped closer to you. "Fucking strip."

Your heart hammered in your chest at the complete unfamiliarity of the situation.

"John, you can't be seri—"

His hands fisted in your hair, causing you to tilt your head up, meeting his hard gaze. "Strip. I won't ask again. You're always free to leave, y/n, but you and I both know you don't want to."

"move your hand"

you twist and turn writhing your body all over his bed, hand trying to stop his fingers from fucking into you.

"Johnny, please! I said i was sorry " you scream as tears line your eyes

"I said move your fucking hand" he grabs your writs and pins the above your head

his fingers pummeling into you repeatedly. long and thick. you felt like you could feel all the ridges and callouses on them. all the fucking veins. it was torture.

SQUELCH SQUELCH

you try to squeeze your thighs together only for him to pry them back open almost immediately.

it was almost embarrassing just how wet you were really

"God. Fuck you're all over my sheets baby hmm" he moans his eyes never leaving your pussy.

almost.

that did it for you though

"Johnny, Johnny m'cumming"

“not yet baby”

you couldn't hold it

“Y/n, I said not yet” his actions contradicted his words as his fingers curled rubbing against your g spot

your body involuntarily shoots up off the bed as your lower abdomen contracts

"I can't hold it."

You cum with a high-pitched scream. Squirting all over Johnny's hand before lifelessly falling back on the bed.

you’re trying to get your breathing under control when you hear Johnny’s displeased voice

"you don't fucking listen do you"

fingers still in you, he manages to add even more pleasure relentlessly pumping into you

your legs start trembling from the intense pressure building in your abdomen once again.

Your scream is ear piercing as you cum for the fourth time

fifth...

you don't even know.

gosh, He hadn't even fucked you yet

you didn't even realize the drool running down your chin. eyes rolled back and lashes fluttering, your skin gleaming with sweat and thighs trembling. Your chest heaved as you breathed hard still coming down from your high.

In Johnny's eyes, you looked so fucked out and so fucking pretty.

He knew his version of foreplay was intense but he also knew he took it a bit further just for you.

his stubborn girl. He loved it but you needed to be taught a lesson.

with your mouth wide agape, he takes the opportunity of your oblivious state and shoves his middle and index finger down your throat causing you to gag.

"taste yourself...that's right baby suck my fingers clean" He coos as your mouth clings to his fingers.

when satisfied he pulls his away

"knees" is all he says.

you mumble uncoherent words trying to tell him you can't get up but it seems he is already way ahead of you helping you get comfortable in your position on the floor.

He begins to pull his sweatpants down revealing his erection fighting against the fabric of his black underwear. he wastes no time in pulling his cock out and you almost drool.

so harsh but so fucking pretty.

big and veiny with the prettiest pink tip. No wonder the foreplay was so intense. there was no way he was gonna fit without stretching you that much.

You look up at him with hopeful eyes. you wanted him in your mouth so fucking bad your pussy actually ached.

"So cute," he spits in the palm of his hand before bringing it down to stroke his cock.

"open and suck" He states.

Wasting no time your hands replace his and you begin to pump his pretty cock. you lick from the base of his pretty cock to the even prettier pink tip teasing him just a little with small kitten licks

"no teasing" he warns.

But of course, you don't listen continuing to push him over the edge with those kitten licks. even having the audacity to maintain eye contact while doing it.

You see the way his jaw clenches as he loses his patience and grabs the back of your head thrusting and forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

Your eyes widen and begin to water as you start to harshly breathe through your nose.

Gagging multiple times as he continues to relentlessly fuck your mouth

"no teasing and you continue to fucking tease huh? who's fucking in charge here y/n? Who's fucking cock's fucking your pretty mouth?"

not being able to speak you hum around his cock watching as his gaze becomes more sadistic by the second.

"Ah fuck, you're gonna make me cum like this baby?" you hum in response causing him to groan from the vibrations

"Ah, shit"

You watch his expression contort into a pained one before he somehow manages to make his cock hit even further than the back of your throat and cums in your mouth.

"Dont waste it, baby, swallow for me" he says airly

you swallowed his mouth full of cum. loving the pleasantly salty taste.

you wheezed and choked so overwhelmed with just how rough Johnny really was.

Where was this side of him hiding?

holy fuck

"your mouth, keep it open," he grumbles still heaving firm his previous orgasm.

you open your mouth a gain forming an 'O' shape and surprise takes you as he spits in your mouth before lightly slapping you across the face.

your hair was all over the place and your entire face was decorated with a mixture of precum, smudged makeup, tears, snot, and sweat

"Atta Girl." he praises you.

He helps you to your feet before giving you a quick peck on your lips

"turn around and bend over. Yeah just like that... spread your legs for me"

you used the bed as support as you got into the desired position.

he wastes no time thrusting his cock into you rough and hard.

the sound of skin slapping and the squelching of your pussy around him cause your knees to buckle as you threaten to lose your stance.

You were gonna cum soon.

feeling your swaying form, he grabs your neck pulling you into him as your back meets his chest

"don't you fucking dare" he threatens.

"Ah... please please, please! m'sorry... m'so sorry I won't do it again just please make me cum john, I'll be good I swear" you cry gasping for air between words. soon your sentences jumble into a whole lot of nothing.

he keeps his hand wrapped around your neck as he uses the other to hold your hand behind your back

"no. Cum when I say so. you need to learn to fucking listen."

snapping his hips at a quick pace.

the area around your hips already beginning to bruise from how hard he was holding you.

"t'much please johnny!" You scream as your legs begin to shake for the umpteenth time

"you can fucking take it. This is what you wanted right? To piss me off? Having mark all on you like that?" he says begrudgingly

he grabs your left breast and squeezes your nipple hard enough for your pussy to clench around him

"so damn sensitive" he whispers in awe.

he pulls out and pushes you on the bed. you look back and he's

standing over you with messy hair, dark eyes, and a cock so erect it slapped against his stomach with the slightest movement.

"get on your back and spread your legs" he says pulling your legs to the edge of the bed .

You flip over and he immediately fucks into you even harder than before.

once again your hands flay erratically as you scream trying to get away from the aching pleasure that was starting to make you see double.

"look at that baby, " he coos eyes staring at your stomach.

you look down and see his cock bulging in your lower abdomen.

You gasp at the sight

'Johnny please" you whimper not even sure what you are asking for.

"I might just fuck a baby into you. keep you home like a good little wife hmm." he says seriously, eyes still set on the bulging in your lower abdomen.

you clenched around him liking the sound of carrying his children

"you like that huh? " He groans

you nod as tears start to stream down your face.

suddenly he stops thrusting causing you to cry out

"Just gimmie a second baby gotta fix your mistake," he says as he reaches over to his nightstand picking up his phone.

"I'm calling Mark " he says nonchalantly causing your heart to race.

"you're off-limits and they fucking know that but it seems all of you need to be reminded of how things are tonight hm?"

the dial tone blares out before a muffled "hello?" comes through the speaker. Mark.

"watch " Johnny says before he thrusts into you so fucking deep you could taste him

you moan loudly

barley registering the "fucking hell, man" that comes from the phone. That was Haechan

'watch' Johnny had said earlier and you begin to understand that it was a video call.

Mark and Haechan were witnessing Johnny fuck you into oblivion.

"see this? this is my fucking pussy and nobody else can fucking have it." he fucks your relentlessly a familiar feeling building in your stomach.

"j-johnny its t'much"

"nah, you can fucking take it."

"oh, fuck! " you scream into the pillow

"my fucking pussy and she can't give it away ain't that right y/n"

"mhmm" you say not having the strength actually speak.

you cum with a shiver and a whine and even then he didn't stop

still drilling his cock into you

overstimulating you more and more

you try to get away and he never once let his cock leave you.

"tell them how many times you cum tonight." He challenges, knowing full well that you couldn't form a word much less a sentence at the moment.

you mutter random words too fucked out to think

a sharp slap to your face brings you back

"how many fucking times?" he says through clenched teeth

"Alot" you scream.

"good girl" he says before hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room.

"just give me one more" he continues.

you moan as your toes curl from the overwhelming sensations building in your stomach

with a sharp thrust, you squirt all over Johnny's cock just as he cums inside you.

"next time you do that shit I’ll fuck you right in front of them instead of over the phone."

#nct 127 #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct doyoung #nct yuta #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct dream #nct fluff #nct taeyong #nct #nct u #nct johnny #johnny suh #nctzen #nct x reader #nct mark #kim jungwoo #moon taeil

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crescenthistory · 1 month ago

Note

hihi i love ur work sm <3 could you pls do a barty crouch jr sunshine x grump except the reader is the grump? ik barty isnt rlly sunshine like but he seems a lot more outgoing and energetic when compared to the reader. for the prompt could it be a.6 where the reader is just being her usual grumpy self and barty sort of mocks her? if the idea doesnt sound so appealing u dont have to do it i understand !! (also ignore the fact i submitted this earlier but forgot to put the prompt lmfao)

hi sweetheart! first of all, no i will not ignore your earlier ask because what you said about my writing was soso sweet and i think about it daily<33 i am a truther of barty being the sunshine in these dynamics because his chaotic energy needs a bit of a grumpy counterpart which is why i'm also a bartylus truther shhh so i'm in love with your idea, thanks darling xx this was so fun to write, why is he like this

Prompt: A.6 "Aren't you just a sweetheart?"

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), you are in gryffindor sorry and marauders!bestie, mostly barty pov so it's sassy and biased, banter/bickering, language, some innuendos/suggestive jokes, they do not kiss physically but are making out in barty's head tbh, jegulus appearance my loves, a little bit of bartylus snuck in there

Note: i love their dynamic here, might write some more blurbs with the same storyline/concept

continuation can be found here <3 and here

Barty could not believe Regulus had betrayed him on such a carnal level.

Becoming chummy with Gryffindors in general should be considered a cardinal sin, but shagging one on the regular? Insisting that shagging was a “crude term” for it and insisting Barty accept that his best friend, stupid wanker, is actually in love with and dating James Potter, the epitome of Gryffindor bravado?

Absolutely unacceptable. Arguably a hate crime, and he told Regulus as much, only to be met with an eye roll as the black haired boy continued to drag him along to where his new boyfriend was sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by friends.

“Well, if it isn’t Baby Black?” A girl called as Regulus approached the group, hauling Barty along with him. Others around smiled and greeted Regulus – not Barty.

“Shut it, McKinnon,” Regulus grumbled, sheepishly taking the seat on James’s left that he had saved for him. Barty could spot a slight pinkish blush creeping up on Regulus’s cheeks when James murmured a hey love and kissed his cheek.

Barty could puke at the sight.

Nevertheless, he shoved some Gryffindors further down the table to take a seat beside Regulus. For whatever reason, he had believed it necessary to bring Barty with him every single time he meets James’s gnarly pack, so Barty assumed the role of protective friend while still making it exponentially clear that he disapproves.

“No acknowledgement for me then?” Barty looked around the table who were in one degree or another cooing at the fresh couple. All except Sirius, who, like Barty, was faux gagging at the sight.

It’s a new low for Sirius Black to be your one ally.

“Make yourself note-worthy, and we’ll say hello to you, Junior.” The gruff voice came from you, who conveniently was sitting opposite Barty this morning.

You were thus far the most tolerable of James’s friends, mostly because you had yet to be as loud and obnoxious as the rest, despite the red and gold around your neck. You had yet to say almost anything at all, but what you did say had a habit of drawing a snort from Barty. Mostly because it was never particularly kind.

Your eyes didn’t leave the crossword puzzle you were working on as you ate, shutting out the bickering around you, yet somehow picking up on Barty’s comment.

Intriguing.

“I take great personal offence to that, Treasure.” Barty's voice was incredulous but he sported a contradicting wicked grin, happy at the opportunity to wreak a bit of havoc if he must be seated here.

“Ew.” You looked up at that, eyes narrowing at the pet name he gave you. He decided then and there, that was the only way he would refer to you from now on. “And good. Maybe it can help you build some character.”

“Oh, come on,” James butted in, finally drawing his eyes from Regulus – who he had sneaked an arm around before the boy could protest at the public display of affection – and looking at his dear friend and his disgruntled friend-in-law. “Be nice to Junior, he slithered here all the way from the comforts of his dungeon.”

“So did your boytoy, Potter, so watch your mouth.” Sirius, James and Regulus all winced at the word boytoy, though for very different reasons.

“And so I am being nice to him,” James retorted, squeezing Regulus as he looked down at him. “Aren’t I, love?”

“Shut up,” Regulus whispered.

“You’ve already said that today, Reggie,” McKinnon replied with a sly grin. “Find another comeback, why don’t ya?”

Regulus just rolled his eyes at her while Sirius bumped his shoulder into hers in a sign of approval.

“Anyway.” Barty drew the attention back to him as he spoke up, but his eyes were trained on you. “Build some character you say? What character would you like me to be, Treasure?"

You sized him up, clearly debating whether to follow James's advice or take Barty's bait. The latter seemed to win.

"Someone less disruptive would be a great start."

"That would hold more bite if you didn't willingly surround yourself with this lot," Barty laughed, waving his arms a bit too theatrically towards your friends, some of which were scowling at him, others nodding in agreement. Barty swore he could hear James whisper fair under his breath.

"Willingly is a bit of a stretch." You side-eyed Sirius beside you with a sly grin, who took a few seconds to process your sentence. Once he realised, he gasped and swatted at your arm for the disrespect.

Barty was enjoying himself much more than he expected.

"Aren't you just a sweetheart?" His grin never faltered as he continued his one-sided staring contest with you. As if you were the only thing in the room of notice, as if your friends weren't right there and needed to be won over by him as well.

“I can be,” you drawled, fighting to keep your face neutral. “You just gotta earn it."

Barty tilted his head, eyes narrowing with interest as he studied you. There was something undeniably magnetic about your sharp tongue, the way you seemed to remain so unbothered by the chaos swirling around the table.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, inching just a bit closer. “And how do I do that?”

Finally, you locked eyes with him properly, levelling him with your stare. Your expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe?—beneath your cold exterior.

"That ship sailed so long ago, you can't even see it from harbour, Junior."

"Good thing I can swim." Barty winked at you, and part of him thought he caught you look flustered for half a moment as his comments grew flirtier by the minute.

“Fine by me, easier to drown you if you jump in the water willingly."

Barty barked a laugh, unphased by your words. "Don't threaten me with a good time." He could feel Regulus giving him a look from his right, but Barty ignored it. He was far too entertained by you now. “Tell me, do you give everyone such a warm welcome, or am I just special?”

Your lips twitched, but you held your ground, flicking your eyes back to the crossword in front of you. “You’re just annoying.”

Regulus groaned softly, clearly wishing he could disappear into the floor. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to subject himself—and by extension, Barty—to the whirlwind that was James Potter and his pack of friends, but he also wasn’t blind. He saw the way Barty’s attention had shifted, how your sharp, biting comments had hooked him in a way nothing else had managed to. He could practically feel the chaos brewing.

James, ever the peacemaker, clapped his hands together. “Right, well, now that we’ve all sufficiently insulted each other—again—how about we chat about something less murder-y?”

“No promises,” you murmured, flipping a page of the Daily Prophet as you continued working through the puzzle.

“Good efforts, Potter, but I fear she's just too intrigued by me” Barty sighed, leaning back in his seat as if exhausted by the mere prospect of attention. “I have that effect on people.”

“Oh, sure,” McKinnon chimed in, rolling her eyes. “We’re all positively obsessed with you.”

Sirius, looking entirely too pleased with himself, gave you an exaggerated wink. “I’d pay good money to see her put you in your place, Junior.”

“And I’d pay good money to see you mind your own business,” you retorted coolly, not even sparing Sirius a glance. Neither boy seemed sure if the comment was meant for Sirius or Barty, but didn't let that deter their entertainment.

Barty watched the exchange with open fascination. He couldn’t help but admire how easily you held your own amongst this overzealous group, considering their tendency to overwhelm people with their loud, boisterous energy. You were like a still, cold lake amidst a storm, unbothered by the wind and waves crashing around you.

He leaned closer to Regulus, his voice dropping slightly as he muttered, “I like her.”

Regulus, still recovering from the emotional whiplash of being dragged between Barty and James’s worlds, gave Barty a flat look. “Don’t.”

Barty’s grin only widened. “Too late.”

It became a strange, almost delirious routine for Barty to be swirled into the life of James Potter and Co. He minded it less and less, irritation soothed almost instantly once he saw you.

He sought you out every time Regulus brought him along, plopping down beside you on the common room couches, leaning on your chair at the library, catching your eye in the hallways. You presented begrudgingly, always rolling your eyes and scoffing, but your resolve crumbled slowly and the smile you were fighting became more insistent.

You and your dry retorts, you with your books or puzzles in hand, you and your knowing looks that grew more affectionate.

Barty was thoroughly fascinated.

"Don't screw this up for me please," Regulus would whine as the two of them walked back to the Slytherin dorms with just a few minutes left before curfew. They had dragged out their time sprawled across the couches by the fireplace at Gryffindor.

This time, as most times of late, Regulus hadn't asked Barty to come – he hadn't needed to. While the two usually spent most of their time together, Barty had practically been glued to his side as of late, ready to jump on the opportunity to see you.

"I won't," Barty dragged out the words with annoyance, as if he had said them a thousand times as of late. "Don't worry your pretty head so much Reggie, James won't care that I'm bantering with his bestie."

"It's not just the bantering I'm worried about," Regulus muttered, but Barty caught it clear as day. He gave his friend a look that demanded further explanation.

"You clearly fancy her, Barty!" He just blinked, as if to say and? Regulus groaned. "Just don't mess anything up with her to the point where she gets so angry she doesn't want to see you anymore. I don't want to have to deal with managing my time between you and James because she wants you dead."

Barty sighed dreamily at those last words, whispering wouldn't that be hot? Regulus gave him a corrective slap up the back of his head.

"I won't okay, I won't!" Barty was the one grumbling now, trying to deal with the infatuation in his stomach, just aching to go back and bicker some more with you, while also calming his best friend down. "I don't want to actually like hurt her or anything, I just like getting a little rise out of her."

Regulus paused before the entrance to the Slytherin common room, levelling Barty with a glare. He realised then that he seemed to have a type of person he prefers to associate with, because you had given him that same look earlier when you debated each other about who should get to sit in the comfy chair. He suggested you just sit in his lap in the chair – a great compromise, really – and a beautiful blush crept up on your face when you scoffed.

"If she will make you happy, please do go for it. But be careful, please." Regulus's tone of voice was intent, leaving little room for argument.

Barty still found some, of course, but he was soft for his friend and gave way.

"Fine, don't worry, I've got it under control," he all but whined. "It's not everyday stoic Regulus Black begs me for anything, so fine."

There was a smile on Regulus's face when he shoved him then, finally stepping into the Slytherin dorms to call it a night.

You were in the library the first time Barty got you all to himself.

It was a Saturday afternoon when Barty found himself wandering through the library, absentmindedly scanning the rows of books. He wasn’t really paying attention, more so killing time before his next Quidditch practice and possibly looking for some trouble, when he spotted you in a far corner. Much better.

For once you were free from your larger than life friends, nose peacefully buried in another one of your books as you twirled your quill before your fingers. Barty knew you were waiting to scribble something in the margin, and a surprisingly soft warmth sprouted in his chest when you did. A small smile tugged at his lips as he made his way over to you, leaning casually against the bookshelf beside you.

“Fancy seeing you here, Treasure.”

You didn’t even bother looking up. “If you’re here to annoy me, I’ll hex you. Finally got some peace and quiet."

Barty laughed, taking the seat across from you without invitation. “You wound me. What makes you think I’m here to annoy you? Maybe I just wanted some quality company.”

“Quality company?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow as you finally looked up from your book. “And yet you chose to sit with me.”

“Exactly,” Barty replied smoothly, flashing you a grin. “You’re the most interesting person in this castle, and I’m bored. I’m sure you can entertain me.”

You gave him a long, appraising look, as if trying to figure out what his angle was. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Nope.” His characteristic cheshire cat grin was playing across his features, and you ignored the stirring it caused inside you.

A pause stretched between you as your staring contest prolonged, and for a moment, Barty thought you were going to ignore him, go back to your book, and continue the delicate balance of biting banter and cold indifference that had marked all your previous interactions.

Then, much to his surprise, you closed your book with your fingers keeping your page. You leaned back in your chair as you regarded him with a calculating gaze. “Fine. Though if you’re so desperate for company, then you tell me something interesting. Junior.”

Barty blinked, not having expected you to actually engage. His grin grew and he felt pride bloom in your chest as you began to sport your own.

"Oh, I'll tell you anything you want, if it'll keep your attention on me, Treasure."

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cy-cyborg · 5 months ago

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It's been confirmed that there are 3 amputees in the main cast of Dragon Age: the veilguard - Neve (leg amputee), Bellara (arm amputee) and your inquisitor (arm amputee). So as an amputee myself, here are some things I'd like to see.

Note: these aren't predictions, just things I'd really like to be included.

The inquisitor doesn't use a prosthetic (I already talked about this in its own post but with 3 amputees, and 2 of them already being shown to use prosthetics that, lets be honest, do look like "perfect replacement" prosthetics, it would be nice to see at least one who doesn't)

We will get to customise our inquisitor in chatacter creation, so I would love, if they do use a prosthetic, for there to be some customisability to it (im not holding my breath there but still).

Neve and Bellara's prosthetics aren't perfect prosthetics, and they are actually acknowledged as being disabled while still being active members of your party.

There's some kind of party banter between Neve and Bellara about some of the downsides/problems with their prosthetics, not necessarily in a "poor them" way, but in a "ugh, don't you just hate it when you can't get the stupid thing on in the morning" kind of way.

I get a kind of jokey/adventurous vibe from Bellara, I hope they aren't affraid to let her use her prosthetic for pranks or jokes. I don't think neve would, but I can see bellara having a blast with it.

I hope the prosthetics come off during down time. No amputee wears their prosthetics 24/7, it's uncomfortable, and they get heavy and sore after using them all day.

I hope we see Neve express some frustration or see her alter her walk animation on rough terrain. It's hard to get a clear look because the trailers she's been shown in are so dark, but her foot doesn't look articulated, which is going to change how she walks, even just a little bit.

I hope the prosthetics don't break - this is a trope I'm starting to notice more and more, where someone has a perfect prosthetic that is only not a perfect replacement when it breaks, usually for plot reasons, at which point the character in question is forced out of the action until its fixed. DA has forced companions out of your party for story reasons before (e.g. solas after you free his spirit friend and he needs to cool off) so I can see this being used for plot, and I really hope it's not.

The inquisitor, Neve and Bellara compair prosthetists (the maker of the prosthetic) and maker techniques.

I really doubt they'll do this but I'd love it if random NPC's approach you if you have any of the amputees in your party to ask what happened and/or make weird comments at them ("but cy, that would be so annoying and inconvenient!" That's the point. So many people do that to irl amputees, and it's never at a convenient or even safe time, and I've never seen it happen in media. A game is arguably the best place to have it happen, in, say, a random event similar to the ones that could happen in origins)

In that same vein, I'd love to see a scene where someone approaches the inquisitor to call them an inspiration- you and the inquisitor assume it's for, you know, beating corripheus (I know I spelled it wrong lol) and saving the world, but it's revealed the chatacter has no idea who the hell the inquisitor is and just means it's inspiring that they're out in public "like that" - referring to their arm. This also happens to me all the time, and you can't tell me some snooty orlesean or tevinter noble wouldn't make those back-handed compliments, lol. You also can't convince me that any version of the inquisitor would just accept that

I hope none of the chatacters are used as inspiration porn ("don't you worry Rook! I can still pull my own weight on the team despite being an amputee, you just have to give me a chance to prove myself!")

At least one of the chatacter's stories of how they lost their limb is left untold in game (we don't always need to know how it happened if it's not relevent to the plot).

Like I said, these aren't predictions, just my hopes. I wouldn't hold my breath for any of these to be honest (bioware has not been the best in term of disability rep in the past) but A lot of them wouldn't be hard to implement and could take the representation from hardly even acknowledging their disability to something actually pretty decent disability rep-wise. It's also pretty rare to have so many characters with the same kind of disability in the cast of such a mainstream piece of media, and I really, really hope they do something with that because you can have a lot of fun with that.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #dragon age 4 #da4 #datv #dragon age companions #da: the veilguard #writing disability #disability representation #amputee #amputee representation #amputees in media #disability in games

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joequiinn · 5 months ago

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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 9

[chap eight] | [all chapters here] | [chap ten]

Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Me?? Taking another unexpected writing hiatus?? Never. But forreal, you all know how life gets. So, as a treat here's a longer chapter (that may or may not be a bit rambly) to make up for my absence. As I wrote, this just kept going and going, so I hope you all enjoy the extra few thousand words lmao

wc: 8.6k

Chapter Nine

The rest of Monday was absolute shit following your fight with Eddie. After spending the entirety of lunch break hiding out under the bleachers in an attempt to pull yourself together, facing your peers for the rest of the day was the last thing you wanted. The trek to your fifth period class was like some walk of shame, as if you were wearing some damned scarlet letter; it felt as if the entire school was watching you, waiting to see if you’d make yourself look like an idiot again or if you’d erupt. You had never felt so scrutinized before, so susceptible to judgment, but you fought tooth and nail not to give people the reaction they were hoping for.

The next day wasn’t any better. Once again, you felt the weight of everyone’s attention, you felt the pressure of all their judgment. Was this how it felt to be in Eddie’s shoes, how it felt to be a total social outcast? It was even shittier than you could have predicted, and you found yourself questioning the stupid little plan you and Eddie had been hatching that led to this.

It only grew worse as the day went on. Third period was arguably the most frustrating - you were stuck sitting next to Eddie for a whole damn hour, and he didn’t speak a single word to you. You didn’t even think it was possible for that boy to go quiet for longer than a few minutes, yet he proved you wrong, keeping his mouth zipped tight and his eyes on anything but you. Being ignored by Eddie caused your anger to flare, and if you had less self control you would’ve said something about it, would’ve given him a piece of your mind, but your frustrations had kept you, too, surprisingly silent. Or maybe it was the fear of looking stupid again.

Wednesday continued much the same way, although you felt less frustrated by everyone’s critical glances and Eddie’s willful ignorance of your existence. You thought maybe you were starting to get your shit together, that you had finally combatted all your pent up emotions and pushed them all the way down to the pit of your heart, where you'd just ignore them like you did with any challenging feelings. Hell, you were even beginning to fool yourself into thinking that you were feeling better, though deep down you knew that wasn’t true.

The worst that the week had to offer came during lunch that day, though, when you foolishly tried to approach Duncan and demand to know what the hell his deal was. You thought you had pulled yourself together well enough - you spoke with a sharp tone and a cool demeanor, but he and his gang of friends simply mocked your attempts at an argument. They did everything they could to make you feel small, but you kept it together, retreating from their harsh words with all the poise you could muster, hoping that your anger wasn’t too obvious. Their laughter and whispers wouldn't get to you, or at least you'd never show it - the whole school already saw you vulnerable once, it was not about to happen again.

Consider your reputation officially fucking ruined.

The thing that hurt more than any of their insults and derogatory words, however, was the look on Eddie’s face as you two met eyes across the lunch room, the way he watched you as you tried to march away from Duncan with your pride still intact. Eddie had been witness to the entire shitty interaction, you realized as you kept your eyes locked on his; the worry and concern so clear on his face caused a crack in your otherwise icy exterior, and you had to rip your gaze away so he couldn't see the hurt in your expression. You nearly broke down the very moment you were out of the cafeteria, the look on Eddie’s face burned into your mind.

The rest of the day was a fucking blur, and you were so emotionally worked up that you were grateful to leave school and go to the one place that could normally calm you down - the ice rink. Wednesday was always your skating day, and today you felt like you needed it more desperately than usual, thankful to spend a few hours on the ice after school. In all your moments of frustration, skating always did wonders to even you out, reminding you why you still enjoyed it after all these years - it helped calm your nerves, clear your head, and relax your heart. It helped to de-escalate your emotions, to make you think straight, and after how hard the past couple of days were, you desperately needed that.

Your anger at Duncan was still burning hot as ever, and even as you slowly relaxed you were still desperate to get back at him, not above stooping to his level. You’d have to corner him when he was alone, without his posse to back him up - then you could really hurt him with your scathing words. You also couldn’t help but wonder just how involved Amelia and Janet were in all this shit - if anything, this stunt was Amelia’s idea, but Janet? She couldn’t have been this cold and heartless; or maybe you just desperately hoped she wasn't.

As you looped around the ice far less elegantly than you normally would, you tried your damnedest not to think about Eddie, as if ignoring the thought of him would somehow remove you from fault. Now that you’ve actually had time to think about it, you knew you’d been mean to him just for the sake of it, just to let your frustrations out on someone. A younger you wouldn't have cared that you mistreated someone, would've just waved it off like a brat and moved on with your life. Hell, only a few months ago, you probably would've still found it comical to talk down to someone like Eddie the way that you did.

But you were not that girl anymore, although you also weren't emotionally ready to acknowledge that Eddie didn’t deserve your vitriol; after all, you were mean to just about everyone, what made him any different? You knew that you’d treated him badly simply because it was easy, because he was the only person there and you needed to let it out. The less prideful part of you knew that you were wrong for that, but that side of you had thus far been outweighed by your own stubbornness. Now, however, you were starting to think maybe you needed to do something about it.

On the one hand, you considered that you had no obligation to make things right with Eddie, and yet, something about that upset you. Were you really so terrible and bitchy that you’d avoid apologizing to him? Were you going to simply ignore him, if not treat him even worse than you’d already had been? That’s certainly something you would have done in the past, but somehow Eddie fucking Munson had made you a little less harsh than you once were.

No, you didn’t need to make this right, but you wanted to. Somehow, Eddie had undeniably grown on you, and at this rate he was virtually the only person you had on your side (that is, of course, if you don’t take into account his ignoring you the past two days). If anyone had even suggested a month ago that you’d be getting along so well with Eddie Munson, you probably would have gagged. What could you and a guy like him possibly have in common, what could you two possibly bond over? These were questions that you were still seeking answers to, even as you drove home after hours of skating at the rink.

Perhaps it was your sense of humor, so much more aligned with his than either of you had expected. Or maybe it was the effortlessness with which you could talk to one another, like you’d already known each other far longer than a few weeks. Hell, maybe it was that Eddie challenged you without even being mean about it, how he so simply gave you new perspectives to take into account and made you reconsider things you thought you knew.

It was strange to realize that, in your own way, you two had become almost-friends quite rapidly. Was that normal? Did other people feel so at ease with someone they’d known for only a few short weeks? You couldn’t remember what it was like when you became friends with Amelia or Janet or anyone else that ran in your former circle - had you bonded with them just as easily as you had with Eddie? Something in you suspected no.

But you tried to avoid thinking about that too much, because you certainly weren’t going to dig into it any deeper.

As you walked through the front door of your home, the silence of the house confirmed to you that your father was still, supposedly, at work. The only time you heard the buzz of electronics throughout the house was when he was around, because your mom never left a television or radio on unnecessarily. You’d bet that she was probably in the kitchen with the radio down low, just a bit of background noise to keep her company as she prepped for dinner. Or maybe she was on the phone in the home office, chatting away with one of her friends about the latest gossip in town.

You hated to admit it, but you and your mom were both used to your father not being around often - most days, he was gone before you left for school and didn’t return home until well into the evening. This had been the family’s routine for years now, so your father’s lack of interest in spending time at home no longer phased you. His absence was just as routine as your school schedule or your mom’s biweekly nail appointments.

You found it far more surprising when he was around - in fact, it almost dared to make you suspicious of him. Because you figured he never seemed interested in spending time with you or your mom, you couldn’t help but speculate what would prompt him to suddenly spend every night at the dinner table for a couple weeks, or to even suggest the family go out together on the weekend. You assumed it was some form of guilt - for a while now, you had yourself convinced that he was having an affair, so perhaps his brief bouts of attentiveness were his measly efforts to reconcile his infidelity with himself.

Of course, you’d never dare even imply this suspicion to your mother, for all you knew it could send her spiraling. And a part of you was convinced that perhaps she’d had her suspicions as well.

As you closed the front door behind you and slid out of your sneakers, you had every intention of running off to your room to avoid your mom entirely. After the week you’d had thus far, you’d rather be left alone, you didn’t want to get caught up in her usual superficial conversations. But before you could even take a step towards the staircase, your mom zipped out of the kitchen towards you, an eager shine in her eyes that almost made her appear younger. You gave her a quizzical look, taking a step back as she got just a little closer than you cared for; even with your parents, you preferred people stay at arm’s length.

“How was your day, hon?” She asked as if in anticipation of something. Your face twisted with even more confusion - what the hell was she so excited about? Was she really that oblivious to the funk you’d been in the past three days?

You stepped around your mom, intending to end this conversation quickly so you could disappear to your room. Your tone was dismissive as you replied coldly, “Not great.”

Her joy seemed to falter a little as she followed just a step behind you; clearly, whatever she wanted to talk about seemed to be important to her, “What do you mean?”

You paused to look back at her again, your agitation clear on your face as you studied her. You weren’t certain, but it seemed as if she were expecting a different response - a particular response. What exactly was she fishing for?

“Today sucked. Just like the rest of this shitty week.” Your tone was cold as you raised your brow, hoping that your attitude may deter her from asking anymore questions. Your callous word choice caused her to pull a face, studying your expression as if she were seeing you for the first time in a long time. For a moment, you thought maybe she’d actually act like your mother, you thought maybe she’d ask you what was wrong and offer a shoulder to cry on.

“I figured it’d be good,” she started with concern in her voice, putting on something of an encouraging smile, “considering the assembly on Monday.”

Dread immediately washed over you, her words causing your heart to drop into your stomach - how did she know about the assembly? The school wouldn’t have called the parents about it, they didn’t care that much. Maybe one of her friends had heard from their kid and then told her? Possibly, but not the most likely. So, how did she know?

All you could do was stare for a few tense moments, fighting to keep in all the feelings you’d just worked through on the ice rink. Your jaw tightened as you swallowed hard, attempting to quiet your mind and take a deep breath. Your intense eyes burned into your mother, who seemed to recognize that what she’d just said may have been a mistake.

“How do you know about that?” You probed with an edge to your voice, feeling as if all your emotions were going to come spilling out of you at any minute.

Although she appeared hesitant, your mom kept her composure, persisting to act bright in the foolish hopes that it would help you relax, “Amelia called while you were out.”

If your heart could drop any further, it would have. You began to feel almost out of body as you started to piece it all together, already realizing Amelia’s fucking game. She knew you wouldn’t have mentioned your dissolved friendship to your mother because of your distant relationship with your parents, and now she was using it against you. To what end? Simply to torment you more?

Receiving no response from you, your mother smiled encouragingly, still trying her hardest to keep things chipper as she continued, “She wanted to know if I’d like to be a chaperone for homecoming. She seemed so excited that both of you were nominated for homecoming queen!”

Your jaw clenched in anger, eyes growing harsher as they burnt into your mother. You had no reason to be mad at her, but at that moment your rage was coming back up, clawing its way out of you. It took everything in your power not to shout expletives in her face.

So, you turned away from her, trying to collect yourself by taking a few deep breaths. From over your shoulder, your mom continued, trying in vain to understand what was going on with you, “Honey, what’s wrong? This should be exciting news.”

You whipped around angrily, but bit your tongue as you two stared at one another, you in vexation and your mom in concern. You took one more deep breath while rolling your eyes, looking away again.

“Did Amelia tell you who I was nominated with? Or that we haven’t spoken a word to each other in nearly two weeks?” As your frustration bubbled, you met her eyes again, “Or that I was only nominated as some shitty prank? Did she mention that I ran out of the gym like a fucking coward because of how humiliated I felt?”

Your mother’s face was awash with concern as she looked between your eyes, and for a moment you really did think she’d comfort you, in fact, you were almost hoping for it. But that was quickly squashed, “Will you please watch your language? You don’t have to get so worked up.”

The upset on your face only increased - despite everything else you said, your language was the thing that concerned her most? You scoffed with frustration, shaking your head in disbelief as you all but shoved past her, keeping your wild eyes away from hers.

“You don’t even care!” You said venomously, stomping back towards your belongings left by the front door. Haphazardly, you shoved your feet into your shoes and dug around for your keys, “I’m not good right now, mom, and all you’re worried about is my fucking language! Do you care how I’m feeling?”

With a flustered look, your mom approached you, “Of course I care, but I can’t even understand you anymore! You’ve been so different recently, so much more distant. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if you won’t tell me?”

You simply shook your head, throwing your bag back on your shoulder once you had your keys. As you swung open the front door, it bounced off the wall, causing your mother to gasp at the aggressive act.

“Where are you going!?” She insisted while following you outside. You didn’t dare look back, marching towards your car as your anger continued to bubble over.

“Anywhere but here!” As you whipped around to the driver side door, you finally looked at your mother, who lingered on the front steps with a disappointed and confused expression. You were sure you looked absolutely wild and irate as you flung open the car door, carelessly tossing your bag inside and holding your mother’s gaze.

You could see that she was trying to make sense of the chaos happening right now, trying her best to keep it together as if that would calm you down now after everything that just happened. She wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so emotional and out of control - she’d seen you angrier these past couple weeks than you’d been your entire fucking life.

“Please just come back inside.” She tried earnestly, but you were too far gone to hear any of it. You ripped your gaze from hers and slammed the car door once you were settled into the seat, zipping out of the driveway fast enough that you nearly hit the mailbox.

You didn’t make it far, though, having to pull over only a minute later because you realized you were on the verge of crying. Fuck, when was the last time that had happened? You were never the type to get emotional like this, but shit, you’d had a stressful week. You had to catch your breath, to hold back your tears of anger, slamming your fists on the steering wheel a few times as if that could make everything better. You didn’t dare let a single tear roll down your face, but they were so welled up in your eyes that you could barely see, forcing you to blink and wipe them away.

What the hell were you doing? Where did you expect to go? These melodramatics felt fucking ridiculous, and you tried to convince yourself you were freaking out over nothing, although your emotions were clearly telling you otherwise. You couldn’t keep acting like this, you wouldn’t allow it - it wasn’t you, and it made you feel weak.

But shit, you felt like your world had been crashing down around you all week, and it was impossible to keep it together right now. So, you pounded your fists against the dashboard, hissing foul words while continuing to fight back everything that was swirling in your chest. You were certain that if any of your neighbors walked by your haphazardly parked car, they’d think you were having a total mental break. And maybe you were; fuck if you knew. You weren’t exactly thinking clearly right now.

After what felt like an eternity, you’d exhausted all your rage, dejectedly catching your breath and attempting to regain your composure. Shit, what were you going to do now? There’s no way in hell you’d go back home - you weren’t ready to deal with your mother again so soon. Or worse, your father, whose temper would simply set you off again.

As you swallowed down the lump in your throat, you couldn’t help but think of your fight with Eddie, and without any hesitation you accepted that right now you missed him. If you weren't so emotional, you'd have stopped to consider how strange that was. Maybe the past few days wouldn’t have been such shit if you’d just been nicer to him; maybe this was karma at work, making you miserable for how you treated him.

You had to apologize to Eddie. Right fucking now.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

As you drove through Forest Hills, you realized you’d never once set foot in a trailer park before. Looking out your windshield at the dark street, you were certain that one trailer home would maybe fill only two bedrooms of your own home. How people lived in such close quarters was something you couldn’t even comprehend, and on a normal night maybe you would’ve lingered on that thought. But considering that you came here on a mission, you were unable to become distracted; no, the anxiety that was rapidly growing in your chest kept you laser focused on the task you set out on.

It wasn’t until you reached this side of Hawkins that your fear began to mount - should you really be showing up to Eddie’s place unannounced? Is this terrible timing? What if his uncle was home? The further into Forest Hills you drove, the more worried you became. For all you knew, Eddie would slam the door in your face, tell you to fuck off and leave him alone. And after all the shit you’d dealt with this week, you couldn’t handle any more rejection.

Maybe you should just turn around and get out of here while you still have the chance.

But as that thought crossed your mind, you spotted Eddie’s van in front of one of the trailers, and your heart rate sped up to a frankly concerning pace. Shit, it was now or never. Turn back around and head home or face Eddie and his possible rejection. Frankly, both options sounded fucking awful.

For a few long moments, you simply lingered on the road, staring at Eddie’s trailer as your heart drummed in your chest; your eyes roved over the illuminated windows, half expecting to see Eddie’s silhouette appear in one of them any second now. But when no visual indicator of him appeared, you shook yourself back to the present, pulling up alongside his van with the brief thought that maybe he saw your headlights. You hesitated at that, waiting yet again to see if he’d appear in the window or at the door. Fuck, if you were going to be this nervous, you might as well just get out of here.

But you knew you couldn’t do that. You knew you had to talk to Eddie again, you had to have at least one decent relationship in your life right now. Considering that he was the closest thing you had to a friend at the moment, you had to make amends with him. Not that Eddie owed you any forgiveness, of course - again, the fear that he’d want nothing to do with you came creeping back up, even as you pulled the keys from the ignition and slowly stepped out of the car.

Fuck, what were you going to do if Eddie didn’t want to talk? You didn’t think you could manage to survive the rest of the week if he didn’t forgive you. Despite trying to ignore the thought, in a way you realized that right now you needed Eddie.

This shit better work.

You felt almost shaky as you approached the front door, hearing thrashing metal music reverberating inside the trailer. You had to take another pause at the door to collect yourself - you were not nervous like this, and you refused to appear this nervous in front of anyone. You were here to apologize, not to be vulnerable. So, you pulled yourself together with a few deep breaths, marching up to the door and knocking strongly before you could think to hesitate any longer. Considering how loud the music was, you realized Eddie probably didn't hear you, so you roughly pounded your fist against the door once again. You put on a brave face, taking one more deep breath as the music quieted and someone approached the door.

Of course, once you and Eddie locked eyes, you suddenly froze. All the things you’d rehearsed on the way over here momentarily left your head as you took in his surprised expression, the look in his eyes that suggested you were the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. For what felt like hours, the two of you stared at one another as you attempted to collect your thoughts, attempted to keep all your hurt from showing on your face.

You eventually had to rip your eyes away from Eddie, maybe then you could finally find your voice again. As you stared at his feet, you straightened out your back and clenched your jaw, trying to quiet your mind and get out at least one coherent thought. With a deep breath, you flicked your gaze back to his face.

“Can we talk?” Your voice came out strong, if not a little cold - good, at least you didn’t sound as weak as you’d been feeling recently.

Eddie’s expression was still a little taken aback, even as he tried to put on a calm, collected air. Had you not caught him so off guard, perhaps you would’ve been fooled by the lazy smirk he gave you or his seemingly relaxed posture. But given the look of near astonishment that was on his face only a moment prior, you knew he was probably just as unprepared for this conversation as you were.

“Well, since you drove all the way here…” Eddie trailed off in what was meant to be a casual tone, stepping to the side and nodding his head towards the trailer behind him. You looked between his eyes and the entryway for a moment before stepping up into his home, immediately taking it all in attentively - it was easier to focus on your surroundings than to focus on him and your emotions.

You weren’t sure what you had expected of Eddie’s home, but as you stood in his small living room, everything appeared exactly as it should have - the place was cozy, decorated with items that were clearly personal, reflecting the taste of someone so unlike your own family. Back in your own home, the art on the wall was perfectly curated by your mother, the only photos being staged family portraits; the furniture was also meticulously decided on, meant to look cohesive and clean and modern.

Here in the Munson trailer, the space actually felt lived in - the coffee table was stacked with car magazines and western paperbacks, the walls adorned with collections of hats and mugs. The furniture was worn from years of use, the kitchen was cluttered, a fold out bed was pushed off to one side - yes, this home actually had life to it, unlike the stale living environment you were so used to. Without having met the man, you already had a strong sense of Eddie’s uncle just by looking around the place.

The more you looked at the Munson home, the more your curiosity grew - you wanted to ask more about Eddie and his uncle and all the little details that made them a family. But before you could get to know any more about Eddie, first you had to actually make things right with him. So, you turned your attention back to him, briefly catching the self-conscious look on his face that he very quickly corrected - did he feel judged, having you in his home like this? Was he worried what you’d think now that you had this more intimate glimpse at his life?

The two of you stared at one another for a few long moments; Eddie was clearly anticipating what you’d say next, and you were still trying to decide where exactly to start. You raised a brow as you let out a breath, forcing yourself to look away again so you could actually speak - looking Eddie in the eye like this made it harder to apologize.

“I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You started, letting your gaze continue to roam over trinkets and decor in the living room. Off to your side, you heard Eddie hum in acknowledgement instead of saying anything, which seemed to be your cue to continue. You sighed a little, forcing yourself to be honest, hard as it may be; your voice was a touch quieter as you added, “You didn’t deserve that shit.”

“No, I didn’t.” Eddie responded with a hint of harshness to his tone, but considering the circumstances, he didn’t sound nearly as mad as you’d expected. You slowly spun around, looking anywhere but his direction so your words would come more easily.

“I… like having you around.” The sentence sounded juvenile to your ears, but you simply continued, “I know all I wanted was to stir shit up and be left alone, but the past couple days--”

You had to cut yourself off, suddenly feeling a sadness well up in your throat - you were not about to break, not right now, not in front of Eddie. So, you swallowed hard and tried to calm down before he could see the chink in your armor.

“Not so fun being on the other side of things, huh?” Eddie chimed in, saving you from yourself with his comment. You turned to him with a nod, hoping your eyes didn’t give too much away.

“Fucking sucks, actually.” You managed a small, sad smile. It looked as if Eddie, too, wanted to mirror the expression, but he kept it to himself. You took in his posture, his crossed arms and guarded look, hoping that you were getting through to him.

You let out a sigh, your gaze drifting down to the floor as you struggled to find your words. God, being sincere shouldn’t be so damn hard, but you were never one to admit your faults, never the type to open up easily. Despite your usual confidence and brashness, you couldn’t even seem to form proper sentences right now.

“I forgive you.” Those three simple words drew a surprised look from you, to which Eddie shrugged as he continued, looking away with a coolness that surely had to be for show, “Your apology could use some work, seeing as you couldn’t even say ‘sorry,’ but you were forgiven the second I opened that door.”

That last statement was shockingly honest and somehow a touch too vulnerable for your liking - it made you nervous, and you couldn’t say why. Was Eddie just being hyperbolic, saying that to make you feel better? Or was it the truth, could he have possibly been willing to forgive you just like that simply because you showed up on his doorstep? Both of those ideas made you apprehensive in vastly different ways.

With a quick shake of your head, you tried to pull yourself together, straightening your shoulders and wiping the vulnerable look from your face. You met Eddie’s kind eyes with as much coolness as you could muster, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you were relieved with how this conversation had gone. There was a glint of amusement in Eddie’s face as he watched you, as if he knew exactly what was going through your head, as if he knew your calm demeanor was all for show.

Eddie looked down, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “So long as you don’t drag me to that stupid homecoming, we’ll be alright.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the suggestion, thankful that Eddie made the effort to break the tension in the room - you were done trying to be vulnerable, and it seemed that he could sense that, too.

“As if I’d let myself be the Carrie White of their shitty joke.” You gave Eddie a playful glance, catching the way his brow furrowed.

“Carrie, huh?”

You also gave him a look, “Yeah, you know - telekinetic chick who killed everyone at prom?”

The smile that graced Eddie’s lips was nearly infectious as he laughed with a shake of his head, “Oh, I know Carrie, I’m just surprised that you do - you don’t seem the horror type.”

You cross your arms teasingly - it was so easy to fall back into this pattern with Eddie, easy to bounce off each other. Admittedly, you missed it.

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter with a small smirk, to which Eddie gave you a challenging look.

“Well, it would help if you opened up a little more, princess.” The nickname rolled off Eddie’s tongue with ease, and it was a relief to hear it - that had to mean you really were forgiven, that he hadn't just said so to make you feel better. Even still, you narrowed your eyes, prompting Eddie to continue in his defense, “I know nothing about your hobbies, but you know practically all of mine.”

You looked him up and down once, “You know that I skate.”

Eddie rolled his eyes teasingly, although he sounded deathly serious as he said, “There’s clearly more to you than that.”

The sincerity in Eddie’s tone juxtaposed his playful look, giving you pause, making you nervous. You answered simply and with a dismissive shrug, hoping it didn't lead into some deeper conversation, “Guess that makes you the first person to notice.”

You turned away from Eddie to continue looking around, taking in the room as you debated whether or not you’d elaborate on your interests. Considering that Eddie made a good point about not knowing you well, you caved - after all, did you want him as a friend or not?

“I love horror movies.” You take a few steps towards a shelf filled with videos and cassettes, your eyes slowly looking over the titles, “Books, too, but the movies are way scarier, so they’re more fun.”

A few familiar horror titles sat on the shelf, causing you to grin and glance back at Eddie, who seemed to be watching you attentively. Realizing he was caught staring, he quickly righted himself and met your gaze, his curious smile growing. You could see in his face that questions were forming, that he probably wanted to ask what you liked about horror or what movie was your favorite. Expectantly, you turned to face him with an eager raise of your brow.

Eddie looked between your eyes for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to say first, finally nudging his chin towards the VHS collection on the shelf, “You pick a movie, I’ll order us a pizza?”

You couldn’t help but be surprised at the suggestion - for two days you didn’t speak a word to each other, but again you were reminded of just how effortless it was to go back to the way things were. You smiled in appreciation for Eddie’s ability to make anything easy like this.

As much as you loved the idea, you hesitated, “It’s getting kinda late…”

Eddie waved it off before you could say anything else, “So? My uncle won’t be back for hours, and I don’t think either of us has anything better going on.”

So, you nodded, eagerly turning your attention back to the small collection of movies on the shelf - you wondered which ones were Eddie’s and which were his uncle’s. Quickly, you settled on a movie that you were excited to see there, grabbing it from the shelf and spinning to face Eddie as he dialed the nearest pizza place. You felt like an excited child as you held up Videodrome for him to see. Again, Eddie appeared surprised, but didn’t get the chance to comment as he was greeted by someone on the other end of the call. He probably wouldn’t have guessed Cronenberg to be your taste in horror.

With the pizza ordered and the movie loaded into the VCR, you and Eddie settled on opposite ends of the couch. Within a minute of the movie starting, however, you couldn’t help yourself as you began to eagerly go on and on about how technically impressive the effects in this movie were. You weren’t sure how long you went on for, but after a while you realized you were going on a tangent, cutting yourself off as you looked at Eddie for the inevitable judgment to come. You’d grown used to your friends rolling their eyes or your mom telling you to stop talking about disgusting horror movies, but Eddie looked so… attentive? So interested to listen to what you were saying?

You looked back at the screen almost sheepishly, but you could still feel the burn of Eddie’s eyes watching you.

“You’re kind of a nerd.” He said with far too much glee, causing you to whip your mean gaze back to him; Eddie was smiling from ear-to-ear, clearly pleased with himself and his discovery of your hidden interest.

“I am not.” You scoff, trying not to grin back at him. Eddie leaned across the couch as if to emphasize his taunting, his eyes challenging as he stared at you.

“You just spent five minutes talking about how much you love to watch a fake head blow up - seems kinda nerdy.”

It felt as if no rift had ever formed between you two, as if you hadn’t just been awkwardly trying to apologize to him some fifteen minutes ago. Eddie just made it ridiculously easy to relax, to forget all the bullshit from the past few days.

You gave Eddie’s shoulder a playful shove, so he sat back up in his seat, that wicked grin still on his face, “What, don’t want to be lumped in with the rest of us?”

Despite trying to give Eddie a threatening look, you knew your eyes were betraying you - all of the menace in your expression was destroyed by the way your eyes blatantly shone with amusement. You had to look away again, otherwise you feared you might laugh.

“Liking horror doesn’t make me a nerd.” You insisted.

“No, but considering you made a whole speech about how impactful Cronenberg’s use of gore is, I wouldn’t call you a casual fan.” Eddie teased, and even without looking you knew just how big his grin was.

So, you kept your eyes trained on the screen, hoping to become absorbed in the movie as you tried to ignore the way Eddie was studying you. And it worked for at least a few minutes - you began to smile at the familiar film, attentively following the story development, all the while slowly forgetting about the eyes practically burning a hole in your skull.

But in his typical fashion, Eddie couldn’t stay quiet for too long.

“Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers?”

Without missing a beat, you looked back at Eddie, unable to hold your tongue on the debate. Your tone was perhaps a little snobby as you answered, “Michael, obviously.”

Again, Eddie grinned largely with a challenge in his eye, “‘Obviously?’”

Of course, you knew what he was doing - he was clearly trying to poke at you, but damn it, it was working. You couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about movie slashers to a captive audience, even if said audience was likely going to keep egging you on.

You rolled your eyes, folding your legs up on the couch as you turned your body towards Eddie, “Jason isn’t scary.”

“Not scary? He and Michael are basically the same guy.” You pulled a face at the comment, noticing that Eddie seemed pleased with himself for getting you going on the subject.

“And I guess you think they’re also just like Bubba?” Eddie grinned wickedly, so you quickly reached over to smack his shoulder, “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Say what?”

You narrowed your eyes, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to debate your point. You took a deep breath before looking back towards the movie, “Michael is better, end of conversation.”

“I’m more of a Freddy guy myself.” Eddie taunts, clearly not done tormenting you. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of a response, trying to keep your attention on the movie instead. A minute later, Eddie chimed up again, “The Exorcist or the Omen?”

To that, you didn’t have as quick an answer, mulling it over for a moment before replying - when you answered with the Exorcist, Eddie couldn’t help but say that response was predictable.

So, it led you down the rabbit hole, Videodrome being totally forgotten in favor of debating your horror opinions. For every answer to Eddie’s questions, he had a counterargument - it didn’t matter whether or not you two agreed on something, he clearly just wanted to get you riled up. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you get excited about something, maybe he enjoyed the way you’d argue your case on characters you loved and hated.

When the pizza arrived, you raced Eddie to the door, paying for the food despite his protests, the pair of you clearly annoying the delivery driver who didn’t give a shit where the money came from so long as he got it. All through your meal, you two continued talking over the movie, which eventually reached its end and prompted Eddie to start playing another that you also wouldn’t pay any attention to.

As the night wore on, your debates eventually died down; your seat on the couch became increasingly more comfortable, and the shitty horror movie you had on was beginning to lull you to sleep. Considering how long your day - no, your whole week - had been, you were surprised it took this long for your exhaustion to set in. So, you slowly settled into the couch, progressively slumping into the cushions.

Seeing the tired look on your face, Eddie nudged you and insisted you lie down, and you were tired enough not to argue, resting on your side so you can continue watching the movie. You keep your legs curled up to avoid getting in Eddie’s space, but nonetheless your knees rest comfortable against his thigh. At some point between half awake and half asleep, you thought that maybe you felt his hand resting comfortably on your leg, but you were too tired to say for sure.

As the night wore on, you must have inevitably fallen asleep, because next thing you knew, you were being pulled out of a dream, a hand gently shaking your shoulder and Eddie’s far off voice encouraging you to wake up. You figured at first that the voice was just a part of your dream, but as the tone grew more clear and insistent, you were brought back to reality. Groggily, you blinked your eyes open with a confused glare - how long had you been out for? And what time was it?

Catching your eyes with his, the corner of Eddie’s mouth pulled back in a small grin, “Jesus, you sleep like the dead.”

A tired moan rumbled in your throat as your eyes narrowed. You tried to roll onto your other side as if you could somehow avoid Eddie that way, your words nonthreatening and heavy with sleep, “Fuck off…”

As Eddie sighed with annoyance, an unfamiliar huff of a laugh met your ears, but you weren’t nearly awake enough to even wonder who it belonged to. Eddie pulled at your shoulder so you couldn’t turn away from him, to which you whined again.

“No, you’re not sleeping on the couch, it’ll ruin your back.” Eddie insisted, teasingly pulling at your arm - if you weren’t still half asleep, it wouldn’t have annoyed you nearly as much as it did, “Come on, get up.”

You opened your harsh eyes again, knowing Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to be ignored. As your eyes adjusted, his face slowly came into focus, his hair haloed by the light of the TV; kneeling beside you, he was clearly trying to hide the amusement he found in your sleepy attitude.

The two of you stared at one another for a long minute as the fog slowly lifted from your brain, making you more and more aware of your surroundings. Your gaze drifted away from Eddie, noticing movement in the corner of your eye; turning in the direction of it, you made eye contact with a man who had to have been Eddie’s uncle. He quickly turned away, pretending to be preoccupied with something in the kitchen, as if that would give you and Eddie a measly sense of privacy.

With a deep yawn, you looked at Eddie again, begrudgingly accepting that you had to get up. You slowly rose into a seated position, your feet brushing Eddie’s leg as you moved to set them on the ground; he rose and took a step back to give you a little more space. Stretching your arms above your head and popping your neck, you looked between the two men, noticing that Eddie seemed to be somewhat sheepish, which made you curious. Was he embarrassed that this was how you and his uncle were meeting? Was it because he felt like you two were caught doing something wrong? Or was it something else entirely that influenced that expression on his face?

You sighed heavily as you rose to your feet, your face scrunching up a little as you looked around the room; your voice was still heavy with sleep as you asked, “What time is it? I have to go home.”

Eddie shook his head at the same moment that his uncle silently disappeared to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running drifting out from under the door; maybe he was trying to give you two a bit more privacy.

“You don’t have to go.” Eddie says in a surprisingly gentle tone, to which you furrow your brow, “It’s late and you're exhausted - just stay here tonight.”

You weakly tried to protest, although you were so tired that it was a relief to hear that Eddie wasn’t kicking you out in the wee hours of the morning, “I really shouldn’t.”

“You really should.” Eddie insisted, clearly not open to argument. Luckily for him, you accepted the response instantly, your head still too foggy to find a good enough reason to leave. So, you nod smally while trying to stifle another yawn.

Eddie points his hand in the direction of the bedroom, and you immediately accept the invitation, confidently heading that way as if you owned the damn place. You didn’t catch the tug of a smile that graced Eddie’s lips as he followed just a step behind you.

You entered the dark bedroom and all but collapsed onto the bed, hearing a slight laugh leave Eddie’s lips; at least he found it funny instead of rude, not that you were terribly concerned with that right now. No, the only thing on your mind at the moment was curling into the mattress and sleeping undisturbed for the rest of the night. You comfortably wrapped your arms around one of Eddie’s pillows, inhaling his lingering scent without considering what you were doing.

“You gonna sleep in that?” Eddie teased, reminding you that you were still in the workout clothes that you wore for skating. Like a stubborn child unwilling to do a task, you grunted, sitting back up and trying to find Eddie in the dark. You caught his silhouette digging through what you assumed to be a pile of clothes, eventually pulling something out and tossing it in your direction. The t-shirt weakly hit you in the chest before falling into your lap, so you started to pull off your own soiled shirt, letting it fall forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Light still filtered into the room through the gap in the door, so you caught the way Eddie spun around to give you privacy just as you started to tug at your bra; you couldn’t help but smile, finding it funny as he pushed the door closed. After all, it was dark enough that he probably couldn’t see anything; and even if he could, it didn’t matter. Right?

Eddie kept himself preoccupied, returning his attention to the stack of clothes as you pulled his scratchy t-shirt over your head; thanks to the darkness of the room, you didn’t catch the way he glanced back at you curiously. Once you were comfortable, you lied back down and began to burrow in the blankets, pulling them over your head as you listened to Eddie strip out of his own clothes.

A few moments later, one of the blankets was being yanked from the bed; you greedily tried to grab it before it was gone, but to no avail, which prompted you to poke your head out from the cocoon you’d built. You couldn’t quite find Eddie in the dark, but you nonetheless furrowed your brow in the direction you figured he was in.

“What are you doing?” You questioned groggily as your eyes began to adjust; you could now make out Eddie’s shadow as he appeared to turn to you.

“Sleeping on the floor.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, nudging things aside with his foot before dropping the blanket to the ground. As he leaned over the bed to grab a pillow, you rolled your eyes and reached out to nudge him, making contact with bare skin before shuffling over to make room on the small bed.

“Like hell you are.” You attempted to snuggle into your new position, but seeing Eddie awkwardly lingering prompted you to reach over and give his arm a quick tug, “Get the fuck in the bed, Munson.”

Eddie hesitated a moment longer, and although he couldn’t see it, you stared at him in amused scrutiny. With a huff, you threw aside the blankets and hit the mattress once for emphasis, “Don’t tell me you’re nervous to share a bed with a girl.”

You readjusted to face away from Eddie, wrapping your arms around your pillow again and burying your face in it, getting cozy almost instantly. Behind you, he sighed before his weight shifted the mattress; just from the feel of his movements, you knew Eddie was awkwardly trying to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile at how stiff he was - at this rate, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.

“Stop worrying about it, Eddie.” You muttered gently, curling up in the blankets as if you were a cat lying in the sun. A big yawn escaped you as you felt Eddie shift a little, and you knew you’d be out like a light any minute now, “Try to get some sleep, okay?”Eddie hummed in acknowledgement, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, you could still feel his body heat radiating near you. Smiling comfortably to yourself, you quickly began to doze off, barely catching Eddie’s whispered “Night, princess…” before you fell back into a deep sleep.

additional a/n: I couldn't keep these two apart for even an entire chapter, so I hope their lil reconciliation was worth the wait!

taglist: @3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson

@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220

@frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @mmmunson @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive

@rcailleachcola @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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whorevader · 23 hours ago

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Now if Mace went back. Then I genuinely think that one AU about Mace Windu going back and becoming Anakin's master would happen, I can't remember who that belongs to but like it's well accounted for. Mace would try to step in, as he wanted to in that one comic panel I've seen where he's like I don't like how we are letting Anakin get groomed actually >:/. Unless I conjured that in a dream

The idea that if post redemption Anakin was sent back he'd do anything besides trying to work out how to take down Palpatine without disrupting the timeline enough to prevent Luke and Leia's birth... I'm sorry, Obi-Wan would be a major factor in Anakin's wider plans, but he himself wouldn't be priority... which is WAY more interesting to me, how would Obi-Wan handle not being the center of Anakin's world with little explanation and combined with strange behavior? I picture him going to the council with his concerns, but them being, not approving of Anakin, never that, but amenable to the changes in his attitude. Yoda tells him to support these improvements, and if Anakin suggests any less than warm feelings for the senator, great, they'd rather he not be in the man's pocket anyway (even if they do keep sending him to visit the man privately like responsible jedi who care for child safety). I'd like to see someone write how Obi-Wan handles that. Because I truly don't see Anakin trusting him with his knowledge of the future, and I do think Obi-Wan would be shaken to have love-monster, validation-hungry padawan Anakin suddenly cool on him overnight and focus on... Idk it would depend on what Anakin's plan would hinge on, and I don't think he'd blow his chance to right things by being a toddler and running straight at the sith lord guns blazing, I think he was a powerful opponeny both as Vader and Anakin, and not just for sheer strength.

Anyway. Here's to an ANH-compliant ambivalent-to-Obi-Wan time traveling Anakin and a confused and suspicious younger Obi-Wan grappling with that

#mine #star wars #again:#this is stream of consciousness so. dont kill me (stupid thing to say to star wars fans who will kill me for less)#anakin skywalker #star wars prequels #sw #but also if this happens #i imagine mace would take a stronger hand in the clone wars which he would still allow to happen but he would work with certain jedi he #somewhat trusts to start disabling the chips in brains. and also he would not let obi-wan come anywhere NEAR anakin frankly #like i think obi-wan would still develop a bit of an obsession with anakin but this time it would be #because his master made him swear to be anakins master and mace not only denies him that but WEIRDLY refuses to let the two even interact #and the council doesnt understand it either and i think gets divided between #those who think mace is too attached and those who think obi-wan is too attached. with more falling into the latter #but mace's arguments against letting anakin see palpatine would push some into the former tbh #and obi-wan would try to accept this decision but would also try to justify his own behavior in secretly subtly trying to engage with anaki #bc since he didnt HAVE to be perfect jedi exemplar now as anakins master he doesnt have the same uptight fixation on not reaching out #even if his demeanor and sensitivity is still rude as hell and trying for indifference #but hed be sloppier about it. imo #obi-wan who isnt anakins master would actually be. arguably weirder about anakin than canon obi-wan.#especially if they still served together in the clone wars #like. less fixated but more weird. cant explain it.#thats my brothersoninheritance but you robbed me and now i have to seek to right things much as i can w quick glances and stolen words #very. very 2nd/8th + 3rd/9th house vibes where canon obi-wan is very 3d/9th + 4th/10th house #not to be astrological about fiction. again

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zerobaselove · 7 months ago

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a perfect fit | zhang hao

pairing: campus crush! zhang hao x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 3409

warnings: minor swearing probably? lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 4. "what do you want?" "you" 5. "i want to help you, so please, let me." 11. "is that my sweater?"

notes: combined a hao prompt request (i changed the phrasing of 4 a little bit IMSORRY) with a campus crush! hao request and came up with this,,, honestly longer than i was expecting and somehow shorter than i wanted it to be ?? idk.. anyways geology major! hao you are dear to me (i want him so bad i'm clawing at the walls of my enclosure) hope you all enjoy <3

college was stressful. you knew it would be, it had to be expected. but what you didn’t expect was that the hardest part wasn’t the coursework or the seemingly constant stack of homework sprawled across your desk; it was actually paying attention in your classes.

how were you supposed to focus on mantle convection when three rows down was arguably the prettiest boy you had ever seen in your whole life. zhang hao.

you only had a few classes together, but coincidentally, due to your wandering eyes those happened to be the classes you were falling behind in. and he was to blame.

truth be told, it seemed everyone had some sort of campus crush on the boy; between the way he dressed and carried himself and the way he always managed to be at the top of every class, just about everyone either wanted to be him or be with him. and you couldn’t blame them in the slightest.

zhang hao was someone to admire from afar; across the lecture hall or the path between buildings. so when he ended up in a study group you had joined in an attempt to graduate with a respectable grade, you were dumbfounded, what was someone like him doing in a study group for a class he was passing with flying colours? maybe it was charity work, you convinced yourself.

the study group was only so effective for you, with zhang hao in the group you couldn’t focus, yet again. it was too hard to not notice the way he fidgeted with the pen in his hand or the way he doodled small animals in the corners of the paper. or the way he leaned over a fellow classmate as he helped them with a particularly complicated question in the textbook.

you were doomed.

——

after a few weeks of no progress, you were just about to give up. maybe i’ll just drop out and work at a department store or something. you told yourself as you crouched down outside the library you all studied in.

sure, you were being a little dramatic. but you were one question away from bursting into tears as you walked out of the study group an hour early. the embarrassment of leaving paled in comparison to crying in front of the boy who had been your reason to showing up to class some days.

“are you okay?” the question pulled you out of your pity party, looking up to see the tall male in front of you. he gave you a worried look at your curled up frame leaned against the brick. “i’m just feeling a little stupid,” you tried to laugh, a dry husk of humour pushing past your lips.

the boy didn’t respond right away, opting to crouch beside you as he sat down on the concrete right next to you. if you weren’t so stressed about your academics right now, you probably would’ve been a stuttering mess at the close proximity. maybe you would’ve even noticed the scent of his cologne. but all you could do in that moment was frantically wipe your eyes and attempt to not look as pathetic as you felt.

his eyes softened as he watched your hands rest on top of your knees, “you’re not stupid,” he said, a sweet tone in his voice, comforting even, “it’s a difficult class, everyone has been struggling.” his kind words tugged at your heart more than you’d care to admit.

“but everyone else seems to be getting it eventually.” you sniffled, concentrated on the tears threatening to spill again, “and i just keep slipping further and further behind.” you let out a heavy sigh, “i’m never gonna catch up at this rate.”

you almost forgot the boy was even sitting there, silently listening to your troubles. “shit sorry,” you let out a pitiful laugh, “i didn’t mean to drag you into being my therapist.”

he shook his head, a smile spreading across his face, “it’s okay, i’m glad you told me.” he turned his head towards you, “how about we make a deal?”

you only tilted your head in curiosity, urging him to continue his train of thought.

“you let me tutor you from now until exams. if you pass, then we both win, and if you don’t, then at least you tried your best.”

the offer was sweet, but you couldn’t help but wonder why zhang hao of all people would take time out of his days to tutor you.

“what’s in it for you?” you let a small smile break out across your face, the first in what felt like weeks.

“well,” he pretended to ponder for a moment, “maybe i just want to pass my knowledge onto someone.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the reason as he continued.

“and maybe, this can double as a way to make a new friend, if you’d want.”

sure. “friend” had no real implications of anything beyond a good acquaintance. but you almost choked at the disbelief. the university’s sweetheart, zhang hao wanted to be your friend? the boy you had spent the better part of the last two months trying to tear your eyes off of while your professor droned on about chemical reactions and the composition of rocks.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna take up too much of your time and-“ he cut you off before you could finish. “i wouldn’t offer it if i wasn’t sure,” he smiled gently, “i want to help you, so please, let me.”

you pondered the offer for a moment again. maybe it was the prospect of spending more time with him, or maybe it was just the idea of finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that was this class, but you had made up your mind.

“deal.” your smile widened as you stuck out a hand, his own coming out to shake yours as he mirrored your expression.

this was going to be interesting.

——

your one on one study sessions had only been going on for a few weeks but you were already starting to grasp the concepts more with zhang hao’s help. “just call me hao.” you recall him insisting on multiple occasions, unaware of the way your brain would try and twist the intimacy behind it. just friends, you had to remind yourself, that was all you two would ever be, and that was honestly more than you ever could have expected.

“hao,” the name rolling off your tongue, “it’s getting late, can’t we wrap this up?” you whined, pouting a little in hopes of getting sympathy from the boy. as smiley as he was, he was also quite the hard-ass when it came to studying.

“one more question and then we can be done for tonight, deal?” he smiled, gesturing to the last practice question from this page. you let out a huff as you mumbled an acceptance of the deal, grabbing your pencil once again as you wrote out the explanation, scouring your brain for the scientific phrases to communicate your thoughts.

zhang hao looked over your final answer with a content hum, his hand coming over to ruffle your hair, “good job, you’re getting the hang of this.”

you stiffened at the contact and praise, you had never really gotten validation like that, especially not from someone like him, and your brain was running with it.

when you originally agreed to this arrangement you hoped that maybe it would be your way to get over your little campus crush on the boy sitting next to you, but it had only gotten worse, and you were slowly losing it. taking a moment to shake the thoughts from your mind, you started gathering your stuff up to leave, as was zhang hao.

“don’t forget you’re stuck with me tomorrow too, y/n!” he chuckled lightly before saying his farewells and leaving first, rushing off to meet up with his friend; you were sure he mentioned his name once before, ricky maybe? something like that.

you only nodded as you waved, grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair and slinging your backpack over your shoulder, but then something caught your eye; a light blue hoodie draped across the back of the back of the chair next to you. zhang hao’s sweater. the boy was already long gone, and based on how often he was sporting the hoodie, you assumed it was one of this favourites, so you couldn’t just leave it here. “i’ll just give it back to him tomorrow.” you mumbled to yourself, picking up the sweater and resting it over your arm.

when you got back to your dorm you folded the sweater nicely on your desk, right in your view so you wouldn’t forget it tomorrow. as much as you tried to ignore it, that night you couldn’t help but notice the warm citrus scent of his cologne, and you swore you could smell it in your dreams that night.

——

the next day was a brisk spring day, the warm air having been replaced by a crisp, almost cold, breeze. to say you had not dressed properly was an understatement, you thought to yourself as you walked across the campus towards the library. in a moment of weakness as you called it, or rather a moment of strong winds, you took it upon yourself to throw the pale blue hoodie over your frame. he wouldn’t mind too much right?

sitting at your usual table in the library, you set up your many papers and textbooks, not paying attention as the boy you had grown close to approached the table, a little out of breath.

“sorry i’m late,” he breathed out, catching his breath after seemingly running here.

“it’s okay, i was early,” you laughed, finally looking up at the boy who’s cheeks were flushed light pink.

you watched as his gaze traced your figure, taking notice of the sweater you were wearing, “is that my sweater?”

now it was your turn to flush a shade of pink, trying to form a sentence as you stuttered through excuses, “oh, i’m sorry,” an awkward laugh escaped your lips, “it’s just you left it here yesterday and so i was bringing it to give back to you but it was colder outside than i thought it was and so i put it on on the way here without really thinking, i can give it back right now,” you barely stopped to take a breath, “or i can go wash it and then give it back if you’d prefer.” your train of thought was stopped by his hand on top of yours, your mind going from a million miles a minute to frozen solid in mere moments.

“it’s okay y/n,” he chuckled at your flushed expression as he sat down next to you, “it looks cute on you anyways.” he said simply, moving his gaze to the textbooks in front of you as he flipped to the pages you were on the day before.

this boy was going to be the death of you.

——

something in the air seemed to change after that day, and it wasn’t just the scent of the blooming cherry blossoms in the breeze. something had changed with you two, and perhaps that was how the two of you ended up in your dorm room rather than the library, and on a saturday of all days.

“what homework have you got for me today teacher zhang hao?” you joked, leaning back on the arms as you sat on the end of your bed, looking at the boy who sat comfortably in your desk chair.

“aren’t i allowed to just hang out with my friend without talking about plate tectonics?” he said, a joking sarcasm lacing his tone.

you only laughed in response as you tried to control your heart beating out of your chest at the simple, friendly, term.

before you knew it, the day had faded into night in a blur of laughter and conversation; real conversation. it was a nice change of pace, and as much as you hated to admit it, the more you got to know him, the more your campus crush had changed into just a genuine crush.

you tried to ignore it, but it was so hard to ignore the comfort you felt being around him, how easy it was to slip into conversations and how easy he made you laugh. how were you supposed to not think about that.

and much to the dismay of your heart, these weekend hangouts had become a sort of routine. on top of seeing him most weeknights at the library, your interactions had spilled into the weekends quite seamlessly. whether it was just having a movie night in your dorm room, wandering campus during sunset, or even just doing normal young adult things like going shopping. the two of you had even gotten into the habit of accompanying each other on errands just to keep the other company.

it was nice, you couldn’t lie, but the domestic activities made it that much harder to separate your romantic and platonic feelings for the boy.

and here you were, awaiting the arrival of the boy on a saturday night. every time your phone lit up you rushed to grab it, just in case it was from hao, the casual name becoming more natural over the weeks.

this time it actually was a message on your screen, you found yourself quickly unlocking your phone to see what it said. “i’m going to stop at the store on my way over,” the text read, “do you want anything?”

before the voice of reason in your head could object, you typed back a quick response, “you.” simple, straight forward, to the point. everything you weren’t. it was already too late to cover up your boldness as you watched the typing bubble appear, in sync with the wave of anxiety and near nausea that washed over you.

“you think you can afford me?” he joked back, rolling with the conversation more smoothly than you ever could have, evidently. you typed back a quick laugh, hoping he wouldn’t see the truth behind your original response, “probably not, maybe i’ll just take some gummy worms.” you replied before nearly throwing your phone across the cramped room.

and to think, you were stuck with him all night.

——

you tried to focus on the movie, you really did, but the all too familiar feeling of wandering eyes and a racing heart took over your senses, and who could blame you? it wasn’t every day you found yourself sharing a blanket with the prettiest and kindest boy you’d ever known. you almost wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from you, or if he would just blame it on the fuzzy blanket covering your legs. you hoped it would be the latter.

soon enough the credits were rolling and you finally pulled yourself from the thoughts spinning around your mind, just in time for hao to turn to you with a smug smile. “you didn’t pay attention to any of that movie, did you?” the question caught you so off guard you actually choked a little on the sharp intake of breath. was it that obvious? you wondered. you really had to work on your expressions it seems.

“what’s on your mind y/n?” the smooth, almost teasing tone in his voice would’ve probably made your knees give out had you not already been sat down in your bed.

you managed to stutter out a response, rather reminiscent of the first real conversation you two had months prior. “oh it’s, uhm,” you quickly tried to come up with a believable excuse, settling on possibly the worst one, “it’s nothing.” the stiff laughter did nothing to help your case as he grinned at you knowingly, hopefully not too knowingly.

“so i’m nothing now?” he feigned offense as his hand came up rather dramatically to his chest. “i thought i meant more to you than that, y/n.” he teased, obviously enjoying watching the gears turn in your brain as you attempted to process the conversation that was happening.

busted.

there was no coming back from it now and you knew it, and more importantly, he knew it. at some point he had picked up on your lingering gaze, your quick glances that you thought had gone unnoticed. all there was left for you to do was either admit your growing feelings, or play dumb about the whole thing. and somehow you decided the latter was the smartest option.

“i, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.” another forced laugh pushed past your lips, getting past your thumping heart on the way out.

it seemed that your reaction filled zhang hao with a new sense of confidence, because he did the last thing you expected him to do; lean in. not close enough for your lips to graze each other, but close enough to feel his breath on you, to feel the heat radiating off of your faces. close enough to feel the thick tension in the air, but you were sure anyone could feel that if they were here, you could even cut it with a knife.

“i think you know exactly what i’m talking about,” he smiled, your eyes darting down to his lips that were only a couple inches from your own before looking back to his eyes; warm and inviting.

you weren’t sure what to say anymore, and so you made the bold decision to close the gap; only briefly, but long enough to taste the cherry lip balm that coated his lips, to feel the way his lips fit against yours. like tectonic plates.

what started as one chaste kiss turned into 2, and then 3, and then a gentle kiss of yearning, of waiting, accompanied by his soft hands on your cheeks. you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, his soft hands feeling like silk against your burning skin. you could feel him smile into the kiss as your body eased, relaxing into a rhythm. time slowed and suddenly the two of you were the only people in the world, the boy in front of you filling all of your senses. zhang hao. zhang hao. zhang hao. your brain echoed as you pulled away, giddy smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“is that what you were on about?” you smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes once again.

he let out a small laugh, “what do you think?” he sat back against the wall once again, admiring the way the glow from the tv illuminated your skin, and the way you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. “i thought you’d never do something about it.” he laughed again, this time grabbing your hand lazily.

“listen,” you started, “i didn’t think you noticed, and i was okay to keep it that way,” you looked down at your interlocked hands, your mind silently replaying the last 5 minutes on a loop, rendering yourself no better than a broken record. “you’re the zhang hao, everyone has at least a bit of a crush on you, so why would i assume i had any chance.”

he shook his head as a proud smile spread across his face, “everyone?” he asked, leaving you to lightly smack his arm, a small yelp coming from the boy. “okay okay, no need to smack me,” he laughed, “but really, you thought you didn’t have a chance? why would i have offered to tutor you if i didn’t have at least a bit of an interest in you?”

you let yourself ponder for a moment, looking back on the now distant memory. “i just thought you were being nice!” you stated matter-of-factly, earning another giggle from the boy, you could get used to that sound, or rather, being the reason behind it.

he merely smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, “well i’m not nice like this to anyone else, if that helps make it more clear.”

“good,” you mirrored his smile, taking in the beauty that was the boy in front of you, the boy who seemed to fit with you like the tectonic plates.

“because i don’t think i could handle the idea of you spending your wednesday nights talking about rocks with anyone else.”

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 drabbles #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone drabbles #zhang hao imagines #zhang hao x reader #zerobaselove

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suzukiblu · 16 days ago

Text

Day seven of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . ‘fast’,” Kon echoes awkwardly, glancing down at their hands. Tim tries not to wince. He definitely sounds like an idiot or a prude or–whatever. Just incredibly, incredibly uncool.

He has actually never felt less like a prude since getting to know Kon well enough to notice things like how good the bastard looks soaked in Kool-Aid, but now is just . . . really not the time for thoughts like those, yeah.

“I, uh–I’ve never actually, um . . . with anyone, actually. Guy or not,” Tim half-admits, though it feels stupid that being a virgin is something to admit instead of just a statement of fact. Normally it wouldn’t be, is the thing, but he just really doesn’t want Kon to think he sounds lame or antisocial or . . . whatever, exactly. “I actually would literally not even know how to, uh . . . give you ‘tips’ or anything. Unless I had like, the prep time to do some research, I mean. It’s just, uh–I don't date much, to be honest. Or, uh. Pretty much at all? Like, you're definitely more experienced than I am either, uh, either way, like that's just–I don't do much of this stuff. Any of it. I have in fact gone out with exactly two girls in my life and they both were definitely, um–also the ones who were making the moves and all.”

It's not that he never want to make a move, just usually he's too busy being way too in his own head about it or something else entirely or–

God, he is rambling so much, Tim realizes, repressing a cringe when he realizes how blankly Kon’s currently staring at him. Because it is very, very blankly, that Kon is staring at him.

Crap.

“Uh,” Tim says with a grimace. “Sorry. Um. If you were expecting something . . . faster, I mean.”

Kon should definitely not have anything that fast if he’s thinking of himself as a product, Tim’s basically positive, but also that’s actually not any of his damn business, but also he definitely needs to look into Kon’s dating history just to add a few names to his list for when he finally goes supervillain and just maybe look into–

. . . Kon is still just staring blankly at him.

Tim fails to repress the cringe this time.

“Uh,” he attempts again. “Kon? Are you . . .?”

Kon turns literally crimson and ducks his head, but also doesn’t actually stop staring at him.

. . . alright then, Tim thinks.

“I do like you. I like you a lot. Like–I like-like you a lot, if I have somehow managed to not be embarrassingly obvious about that at this point,” he tries, borderline flailing in the conversation now since Kon is apparently no longer willing to use his words and he was already not doing that great with it when Kon was using his words, and he can’t even talk with his hands or anything because he’s holding Kon’s hands like an actual grade schooler, except probably no one ever has held Kon’s hands like–no, no, he is not far enough down the supervillain pipeline to be able to finish that thought process and deal with the psychological consequences of having to not burn down the system about it, he really cannot do that at any point in the next ten to fifteen years whatsoever. “This isn't–I'm just–it's not me not wanting to . . . take some pictures, eventually. Just . . . maybe we could wait a bit on it. Stick with the streets and buildings for a little while longer, maybe?”

He tries for a smile and also tries not to cringe again over how weak an attempt it feels like, and then has the uneasy and uncomfortable thought that actually doing anything like that isn’t even really–is that ethical, even? Even the idea of doing something like that? Kon doesn’t really know Robin all that well, no, but they’re on the same team and the same side, and they’re teammates and at least arguably friends, and Kon also doesn’t know he is Robin, and–

“Um,” Kon says, his hands tightening just a bit around Tim’s and his face still blazingly and borderline inhumanly red as his head ducks a little lower and his mouth curves into what is, in fact, the most unfairly soft smile that Tim has ever seen on the bastard’s face. “We could do that, yeah.”

Tim was thinking about something, probably? Which hopefully wasn’t something important, considering just how ruthlessly Kon just fried his brain out of his head. Which is not even reasonable or logical, because all Kon did was . . . well, imply he was fine taking things at Tim’s pace and not actually going to get immediately bored if he didn’t put out and was actually interested in just being together, and also did it while smiling at him like that.

Alright, fine, Tim knows exactly why his stupid brain got itself fried. He’s still apparently embarrassingly easy, though.

Well, that’s not exactly new information in regards to Kon anyway.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon #implied past grooming #implied past abuse #unhealthy coping mechanisms

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mickyschumacher · 1 year ago

Note

hi love!! Could you write something about Charles x actress!reader where he gets jealous of one of readers ex boyfriend who’s famous and maybe leads to smut?

(i really hope it makes sense, english is not my first language 😭😭)

thank you !!🩷🩷

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jealousy is a disease. and it's latest victim is your boyfriend, charles leclerc.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy obviously, zayn is kind of a dick bless him 😭, unprotected sex (wrap your tippy pls), praise, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, p in v, orgasm denial, mutual orgasms, cumming inside, mentioning power couple tomdaya ♡︎, sucky media as per usual :/

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x famous actress!fem!reader, ex!zayn malik x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: if i don't get to see charles and zayn in one room irl, i'll just write them in one room if that’s okay :( on another note, i hope this was what you wanted anon! and your english is fine, love. sorry for the wait ♡︎ // questionably written and proof-read on a jetlagged mind

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

There were many things Charles understood well. Family, racing, the politics of racing... but one thing he would never truly understand was how he got you.

The Y/N L/N. An Oscar-winning, multitalented, down-to-earth, and gorgeous actress who had entirely won the public's hearts along with Charles'. The actress who had managed to rule the industry that most were born into.

How on earth had he gotten so lucky?

Charles couldn't deny that he was Ferrari's golden boy nor that he had become a fame athlete. But got you were on another level.

For what it was worth, Charles was a confident man. He thought he cleaned up quite well, he knew his mother raised him right, he knew that charisma itself was scared of him.

Yet, all that confidence came crashing down when it came to your ex.

Zayn Malik.

If Charles could ignore him, he would. But Zayn was everywhere. On his Twitter, on his TikTok, on his Instagram... his fans and your fans especially loved him. Why wouldn't they? He was a literal Greek, well South Asian, god part of arguably one of the best boy band's in history with a voice that had been blessed by Heaven's angels themselves.

When fans questioned why you and Zayn had broken up and you had moved on with an F1 driver, Charles found himself quietly agreeing.

But then he realised that by his side was you. You weren't next to Zayn or anyone else. You were with Charles because you loved him and he loved you. And that was more than enough.

That being said, Charles couldn't help feel a bit maddened at headline he had woken up to this morning.

You let out a small yawn. Sunday mornings were the most calm for you. Especially when you had managed to snag Charles for the week. You turned to your awoken boyfriend with a smile before frowning. "What's on that screen that made you look like this, amour (love)?" You queried, rubbing a finger over the crease between his eyebrows.

Charles looked up from his phone, smiling at the sight of your face. "Nothing, mon amour (my love)," the Monégasque dismissed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you close to him.

Naturally you would've snuggled yourself into him but you could tell he was upset. "No, Cha. Tell me what's wrong. What can I do to turn that frown upside down? Hmm?" You softly asked, peeking up at him while you rested your head on his chest.

You could feel Charles' body convulse as he let a gentle chuckle pass his lips. "I can never hide anything from you, hmm? It's really nothing, Y/N. Just a stupid headline."

You mended your brows, taking his phone from his hand. If you knew anything about headlines, most of them were never good. Your eyes had captured the photo of your ex first, making you deflate a little. You continued to read the headline that made you and Zayn sound like you were still together and then went to the little summary below it.

"They're 'dying to know what happens?'," You huffed, closing his phone. You pursed your lips and peered over Charles. "I swear I didn't know he was coming, Cha. I promise. We can totally skip if you don't want the drama. I'm okay with that. We can lounge in the house and do nothing," You offered.

Charles smiled softly at your words. You were always thinking of everyone but yourself. "Thank you but I wouldn't miss you winning these awards for the world, ma belle (my beautiful). You deserve to win these awards and I'm going to watch you do it. Nothing could ruin tomorrow for me."

━━━━━━━━━━━

A few hours into the Oscars, after parading the red carpet and gushing over you with interviewers, Charles was quite sure he was right. Nothing could ruin tonight because, god, were you a sight to behold.

You had captured everyone's eyes. Talking to your stylist months ago, you had accomplished your two wishes about your appearance at the Oscars: simplicity and red.

Red on a red carpet was always a bold choice but this year's carpet was a light grey. Dressed in a custom red ball gown, a matching silk shawl and a simple necklace, you had blown everyone away.

The amount of people that had solely come to your table to compliment you was surreal. But Charles couldn't argue with them. You were surreal. When he first saw you come out of the dressing room, he could've sworn his heart had stopped and for a moment, he seriously considered your offer yesterday morning.

The most beautiful person in the world loved him. Nothing could ruin the storm whirling in his stomach. The same storm he had felt when he was trying to muster the courage to talk to you when you first met at a tennis match in Monaco.

As you two conversed with your manager about the after party activities you were considering attending, Charles and you heard a voice that was all but too familiar.

"Y/N," The voice greeted.

You knew it was Zayn. You also knew how Charles felt. So you turned around with what you thought was enough confidence and greeted him. "Zayn," You breathed out with a small smile.

"It's been a while. You look out of this world. Beautiful as always," Zayn grabbed your hand and left a small kiss.

Oh good lord.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Charles tense. You cleared your throat. "Thank you. You look.. uh, amazing as always too," You complimented awkwardly, eyes darting anywhere but his face.

Before Zayn could fill the upcoming silence with any unnecessary compliments, you linked your hand through Charles' arm. "This is Charles. My boyfriend," You smiled proudly.

Charles' could feel his heart speed up. He gave a kind smile to the singer, jutting out his hand for him to shake.

Zayn poked his tongue against the inners of his cheek, eyeing Charles' hand before returning the gesture. He locked eyes with the Monégasque, tilting his head to the side. "Right. The driver, right?"

Jesus. For a second you had forgotten why you broke up with him.

"Yeah... the racing driver," Charles responded with a tight voice and slightly narrowed eyes.

A nervous laugh fell from your lips. "O-Okay. I think we're gonna head over to Tom and Zendaya. Uh, see you around, Zayn, hmm?"

Zayn moved his eyes from Charles to you. He gave his usual charming smile. Putting his hand on your shoulder, he said, "Yeah, sure. I'm always around as you know."

Charles felt his jaw lock as he watched Zayn's hand fall from your shoulder and trail loosely down your arm before he left. "See you, Y/N. Goodbye Charlie."

━━━━━━━━━━━

The after parties were a no go. For the first time in your life you couldn't tell what Charles was thinking. The silence after Zayn left and the car ride home was unbearable. You tried to comfort him by putting your hand over his and assuring him that Zayn was just a classified dick, but nothing came from Charles.

What you did know was that Charles was pissed. The tight grip on the steering wheel, his flexed jaw, the hardened eyes... all signs of an angry Charles.

Arriving home, you both entered your bedroom after taking your shoes off. You looked over to Charles. God the silence was unnerving. "Charles? Amour, are you okay?" You asked once again.

Charles sat on the bed, looking at you stand in front of him. His mind was going as fast as the cars he drove. 'Out of this world?' All Charles could think was that he was going to fuck you out of this world. He wasn't angry about the snide remarks. He was angry that he was even jealous of such a pathetic human being. Moreover, he was furious over those small touches of his.

"Chérie (Sweetheart), come here. Let me help you change," Charles smiled, his hand beckoning for you to come towards him.

You sighed, walking over to him. You could see his hands aching to grab you but instead you stretched out your hand to touch his hair. Charles closed his eyes at the feeling. "Cha... I'm sorry about him. He's an asshole," You apologised, now rubbing his cheek gently.

Charles leaned into your caress, fluttering his eyes open so you could see those soft baby blues you had completely fallen head over heels for. "It's not your fault, chérie. I think he's regretting leaving the most smartest and beautiful woman in the world. You have nothing to apologise for."

You chuckled softly, trying to disguise how touched you felt. Charles complimented you like this all the time and it never got easier. No one had treated you like this before and especially not Zayn.

"Now come on," Charles stood up from the bed and turned you around, "Let's get this off." A small kiss was planted on the side of your cheek as Charles' eyes twinkled through the mirror across you.

You smiled warmly at him and nodded. You watched him take the red straps off of your shoulders, leaving a trail of warm kisses on either side. You sighed calmly. His hands trailed to the zip of the dress, pulling it down, he explored the smooth of your back, placing a kiss on the back of your neck. Charles gently pushed down the red gown, letting it pool at your bare feet.

You reached to the back of your neck to take off the gorgeous silver necklace you had worn but Charles stopped you by grabbing your wrists. "Leave it," He whispered, grazing your arms with his touch.

An involuntary shiver came over you at his voice and from the air rushing against your bare skin.

You could feel Charles' lips quiver at the side of your face. "Cold? Let me warm you up, mon amour."

You drew a quiet, sharp breath as you felt him move your chin so you could properly see him in your mirror. His ring-adorned hand travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, ensuring to make the extra effort to glide over your nipples with the metal band.

Your breath hitched as one hand began to rub your hardened nipple while the other continued to travel down your stomach. "Charles..." You sighed out, feeling a familiar burn spark in the pits of your stomach.

Charles hummed in response, meeting your eyes in the mirror with lust and a tint of smugness. The corner of his lips quirked up, feeling you tense as he neared your pussy. Through the thickness of his own clothes, he could feel your skin begin to burn.

His cock hardened at your reaction. He had barely even done anything and his name was already falling from your lips.

His fingers continued to creep down your stomach, feeling the heat from your core radiate. A sigh of pleasure fell from his mouth as he pressed his two fingers into your folds. He could feel your arousal encompassing his fingers.

"So wet, ma chérie," Charles moaned in your ear, making you return the sinful sound back. "All for me, hmm? No one else gets you this wet, do they, chérie?"

You squirmed against him as Charles' fingers moved from the soft lips of your pussy and ghosted your clit so damn slowly. Your hips bucked involuntarily with the crave of more.

Suddenly, his juice-ridden fingers were pressed up against your bundle of nerves while his other hand tugged at your lip, waiting for your answer.

"Shit, no. No one. Only you make me this wet, Cha," You whimpered, grinding your hips up against his fingers for more pressure.

Charles smiled in satisfaction. "Let's sit, hmm?" He said, tapping your clit.

You jolted at the action, feeling his hands wrap around your waist, seating you on his lap as he sat down on your bed. Your pussy throbbed at the loss of touch but ached for the hardness pressed up against you.

"Feel that, amour? That's what you do to me," Charles grunted, feeling an obscene high come over him when you started to grind down on his cock. God did you have him under your spell. Only you could put your bare pussy down on his cock and make him want to cum in seconds.

But how could you not. In the mirror you could see a sex-hazed Charles, skin flushed at your actions. It turned you on to see him lose control.

"Fuck," Charles moaned, stilling your hips from moving any further. Ignoring your whines, he pushed opened your legs, taking in the glistening view from the mirror. Bringing his two fingers to your mouth, you opened your lips and lapped at your arousal on his fingers.

"Merde," He sighed out, moving his lubed fingers to your pussy. He teasingly rubbed his fingers fully up and down, make you gasp at the coldness of his ring. Shit.

"Charles, please. I want your fingers," You groaned in frustration, thighs taking his fingers into a tight grip.

Charles chuckled, "Anything for you, princesse." He pushed his to fingers into the soft walls of your pussy.

The both of you moaned in unison, your head falling back on his shoulders. He watched eagerly as you enveloped his fingers entirely as if it was a magic trick of some sorts. The lewd sheen of you glimmered over his fingers while he thrusted them in and out.

"Look at you, chérie. Making a mess all over me," Charles smiled against your cheek as he looked down at his black trousers which now sported a darker stain.

Your warm walls clenched around his fingers, sending Charles on a journey to find that right spot both he and you craved so much. Charles could tell by the sudden parting of your lips and the jerk of your hips that he had reached it. His eyes flickered over to your face, bringing a small smug smirk to his mouth.

Your eyes brows were creased in the middle, laden with trickles of sweat building up while your mouth remained in a constant state of opening, letting those beautiful moans fall out as your chest heaved, craving more and more of him.

The trembles, the moans, the pure state of bliss you were in... it was all because of him. And Charles loved it.

Charles brought his thumb to your bundle of nerves, rubbing you in slow circles as he continued to push his digits in and out. He whispered softly, lips dancing against the curve of your ear, "You don't know how beautiful you looked tonight, mon amour. So many eyes on you. I bet they all thought the same thing... that you looked like a goddess. Sometimes I wish they could see what I'm seeing right now. This gorgeous body, your wet pussy trembling all over me, your swollen lips.... hear those pretty little moans of yours. Then they would realise... you are perfection. Unfortunately for them, they aren't the luckiest man alive. I am."

All of a sudden, all your emotions were rushing towards you. Hearing Charles' thick voice while his fingers fucked you sent you overboard. The ache of your core was climbing higher and higher, hips convulsing. "Fuck, Charles, I'm going to cum," You murmured with staggered pants, eyes fluttering shut.

Charles smiled softly, cock throbbing at the sight of you reaching your climax. But as much as Charles loved it, he needed his cock in your warm walls.

Your eyes snapped open as you felt Charles remove his fingers from your pussy, leaving his thumb circling your clit aggravatingly slow. Your walls clenched around nothing in the effort to grab the last sliver of euphoria that Charles had brought. "Charles," You whispered, almost with a sob, eyes shaking in both annoyance and lust.

Charles brought his lips to yours, softly hushing your cries. "I'm sorry, chérie, I need you." His baby blues bored into yours, taking you in.

Looking at Charles when he had said that, given how the night had played out, the tone of his voice told you everything you needed to know. "I know, amour. I need you too," You whispered back, giving him a long peck.

You sat up from his lap, turning to undo the buckle of his belt. The clangs echoed throughout the room as the tension between the both of you became heavier and desperate. Your hands raced to take off the strap while Charles itched to take off his stained pants, cock aching to come out.

Charles let out a low groan, feeling your warm breath on his bare cock as your removed his boxers. His Adam’s apple hitched as he felt your tongue take a long wet stripe of his cock.

His fingers itched to move you away and fuck you like he initially intended to, but the moment he felt your mouth sink down his shaft, his hand naturally fell into your hair. His cock fit perfectly in your mouth as if they were made for each other.

Charles' teeth sunk down on his bottom lip, baby blues eagerly watching you on your knees for him. His hand tightened around your hair as you hollowed your throat. With your eyes flickering to him as your teeth just grazed his cock, sending a tremor down his spine, he let out a series of soft moans. "Just like that, amour," He encouraged while you sucked him up and down.

Taking long licks at the shaft of his pulsing cock, you removed your lips briefly, resting them on his tip. "Only for you, Cha," You reminded him.

Charles held your gaze, feeling another shudder rip through his body. Jesus. Speechlessly he watched you bring your swollen lips back down his cock, hand gently reaching out towards his balls. Charles' hip jerked up at the sudden action, pushing his cock further down your throat.

The rasp of his grunt made you clench your thighs, feeling your pussy drip with arousal. You could feel his cock begin to move with Charles' control, high on the pleasure. Your throat fought to keep itself open, wanting every inch of him in your mouth.

Charles' pace began to speed as the sheer euphoria began to climb up. He averted his eyes to your face, feeling himself tighten further in your throat as seeing you take his cock was a different high on it's own. Your eyes were glassy, brimming with tears of brought of lust and arousal; saliva and sweat painted your skin with a glow he cherished. But what did it for him was the small bulge in your throat; all of him just in your throat.

God, did he just want to thrust himself harder till he came. He needed to cum... but not in your throat.

"Mon amour," Charles grunted, tapping the underside of your chin.

You moved your mouth from his cock, feeling his hand gently lift your chin as you stood from your knees. No words were needed as your eyes searched his.

Bringing your lips to his, Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, flushing your burning body to his unfairly clothed chest. Yet, you could feel the heat pouring off of him. You could barely breathe as you kissed Charles; the fervent need for each other was almost overwhelming.

You could feel his puffy lips slowly detach from yours, eyes staring into yours as he positioned his cock to your wet folds.

Something about this moment felt nostalgic, reminding you of your first time with Charles. The slow and careful movements, the way Charles looked at you as if he had the whole world in his eyes... as if everything was okay as long as you were by his side.

Fuck Zayn. Fuck everyone else.

All he needed was you and he had you... entirely.

You whimpered loudly, feeling his cock drive into you, filling you entirely. "Merde," you heard Charles cuss as he flung his hands onto your bare hips. The air that was once full of your pants and the obscene sounds of your lips sucking his cock was now full of your lewd moans and the sounds of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.

His hands gripped your hips tightly as Charles thrusted into you, losing himself in the feeling of your warm folds enveloping his cock, acting as some sort of siphon that he couldn't escape while he watched your breasts bounce. No... he was under your spell.

Those same thoughts wandered into his head as he rutted into you. How had he gotten so lucky? All he knew was that he must've been a good soul in every past life of his in order to get someone like you.

"Fuck," You cursed, back arching as your body welcomed each hit of euphoria. You burned with desire, humming with approval; cheeks aflame and moans slurred. Your pussy tightly wrapped around his cock began to clench as Charles' fingers had found their way to your clit.

A shiver shoots down Charles' spine as he watched your breasts come on full display. He bent his head down, hot tongue swiping over your nipple. He moaned against your now flushed breast. You were driving him insane. He couldn't think, he could barely speak. You had taken over any stability he once had.

"Charles," You rasped, feeling the coil at the bottom of your stomach tighten.

Charles softly smiled against your breast, detaching his mouth and increasing the pace of his hips against yours. His eyes flickered down to where his cock met your folds, falling into an entrance while he watched your arousal coat his cock.

"Cum for me, chérie," Charles encouraged, feeling your hands travel up his back, pressing into the fabric of his shirt, leaving no inch of his skin missed by you.

"Charles, Charles, Charles," You moaned his name; your favourite song. Your body trembled, melting against him as he tightened his grip on your hips, steadying you as a white light ripped past your eyes, hips bucking involuntarily to fully grasp the high of your climax.

Charles takes his turn at own favourite song; your name slipping from his lips, stuck on repeat. Your folds act as a vice, gripping him tightly. His cock throbbed, the heat of his skin rising. His pants turned higher and irregular, hips coming to a falter as he felt the hot white stripes of his cum coat your warm walls.

Charles' head fell back against the bed, slowly removing his softening cock from your pussy.

You let out a small sigh, almost collapsing against Charles if he hadn't wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you close to him. His blues eyes skimmed over your face, a small smile playing on his lips while he brushed your sweat ridden hair back; his fingers trailed over your swollen lips, tracing the trails of red lipstick that had escaped it's confines.

"You're coming to Monaco, right?" Charles asked softly.

You smiled at him, running your hand through those soft brown locks of his, trailing down his face and ending at his small dimple. Rubbing the spot in small circles, you earnestly whispered, "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Cha."

Charles' eyes softened, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead. "I'm sorry about tonight, amour," He apologised, feeling a slight bit childish and guilty over his reaction.

You chuckled, shaking your head, moving to rub the familiar crease between his eyebrows. "He's an asshole, Cha. I don't know if I tell you enough, but you're the man that I love... forever. There's no one else for me."

"So cheesy," Charles jested even though you could tell what you had said meant a lot to him, especially given that he had tightened his grip around you.

"Only for you, Charles," You rolled your eyes before holding his gaze. "Only for you."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1

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crappymixtape · 10 months ago

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because of you • part one

PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 2.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T O N E 🎶 good girls ( john carpenter remix ), chvrches

“Why is she even here?”

“Steve!”

A loud smack cut the air in two as Robin slapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder, rendering the rest of group there in Max’s trailer silent.

Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, cheeks burning under his gaze, lips twisted into a scowl and trying hard to hold back the daggers you wanted so badly to throw at him.

“She doesn’t know what the hell we’re up against! How’s she supposed to–“

“Steve, none of us knew either, cut her a break.”

“Cut her a break and then what? We all get eaten by a fucking melted people monster?”

“That’s not fair–“

“It’s fine! It’s fine, Nancy,” you cut the girl off, standing quickly from your spot on the couch.

They’d been talking like this since you showed up. Like you weren’t right there in the room with them and honestly you kind of wished you weren’t anymore.

“I need some air,” you grumbled before giving Steve a pointed glare and shouldering open the front door.

The air outside was crisp as you sat down on the front stoop. Not a cloud in the sky and sunlight washing everything in soft golden light, but it all still felt so dark. Like it was harboring thick shadows. Long, spindly, and pitch black. Waiting to wrap their twisted fingers around you.

Waiting to dig into you and squeeze tight.

Waiting to lift you twenty feet into the air and snap your bones like twigs.

Waiting to leave you for dead.

And here was Steve fucking Harrington asking what right you had to be there. Asking what purpose were you gonna serve amongst this “holier than thou” joke of an army. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie had already gotten their asses handed to them by what they’d called demobats, Steve arguably needing serious medical attention, and they wanted to go back? It took everything you had to not leave right there on the spot.

Hell, maybe you should, you thought for a minute. You didn’t owe them anything, especially Steve, but you did owe it to your best friend. The one who basically had a hit out on him. The one who wouldn’t hurt a goddamn fly, but all of Hawkins had already decided he was guilty and you weren't about to leave him.

Eddie.

❝ SO SAVE YOUR BREATH, GIVE A LITTLE OF WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT – DO THEY KNOW SOMETHING I DON’T? ❞

You met him two years ago under the bleachers at the Homecoming football game. It seemed like the perfect place to smoke the joint you’d messily rolled in the car right before you’d come into the stadium and apparently you’d been right, but someone else had already laid claim to it...

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but this is kind of my spot.”

He’d been all black leather and denim. Dark curls and clove. Silver rings and chains and heavy boots and maybe you should’ve been more intimidated, but the smile lines at the corners of his mouth gave him away.

“Don’t see a sign anywhere,” you’d shot back, no hesitation. Looked over at him all skeptics and attitude and took a long drag from your joint. Blew the smoke off in his direction and it made him grin like an idiot.

“Been sellin’ weed down here for like…the last three years so–actually, yeah. What the fuck, man. Someone owes me a sign.”

...And that was it, you were a goner. Laughing mid-toke and coughing so hard you cried and it made him feel so bad he gave you a baggy for free. Eddie "the freak" Munson and you – best friends.

Skipped all the stupid dances and football games with you. Paraded around the lunch room like an idiot with you. Threw fries back at the jocks for you when they called you a loser and sat on the floor in the bathroom with you when you cried.

So fuck “King Steve” Harrington.

You had every right to be there, probably even more than he did and you were gonna tell him to his face, but—

“Can I sit?”

The sudden sound of someone else made you jump.

“Jesus, Eddie.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled and sat down next to you. Gave you a sidelong glance and a small lopsided smile. “He’s really not so bad–”

“You’re joking. Right? Tell me you’re joking.”

The boy hummed, dropped his gaze down to the rings wrapped around his fingers and twisted the one on his thumb.

“He doesn’t want me here. None of them do,” you grumbled, frustration fed further by his non-answer and it pulled his eyes back up to you.

“Hey now, that’s not true–”

“Yes it is! Even Nancy looks at me like a kicked puppy.”

That pulled a laugh from him. Made him scoot closer to you and bump his shoulder into yours. “Listen, sweetheart,” the nickname made you soften, but you tried to keep your scowl in place, “We’re all in over our fuckin’ heads, hm? And Stevie boy…he’s seen some shit. He’s just trying to–”

“Just trying to what? Be a complete dickhead about it? Mission accomplished.”

Eddie sighed and roughed a hand over his face. Rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He knew what you felt because he’d felt it too. Knew what it was like to get laughed at and mocked in the lunch room. Knew how it was supposed to be between him and the other boy. Hell, he nearly cut Harrington’s face off with a broken bottle a few days ago, but one thing was clear.

Change was possible and Steve Harrington was proof, he just wasn’t great at showing it.

“Alright. He could be less of a dick,” he conceded, propping his chin in his hand and looking at you with his big brown eyes. How could you be mad at that?

You mumbled under your breath about that not being the only thing, but fine, okay, only for you, Eds.

Reaching over he flicked at your fingers and looked at you from under his curls with a stern pinch between his brows. “He’s helping me, sweetheart. They all are. Shit, without them I’d probably be in jail already. Or in Carver’s trunk,” he tried a laugh, but it fell short at the end with the weight of his words and it made you grab at his hand and squeeze it.

“Shut up,” you chided softly, no heat behind it. The anger that had been swelling in your chest all but extinguished.

Silence settled between the two of you then, heavy and tinged at the edges with worry. With everything that was at risk and it started to gnaw at the pit of your stomach. What if you couldn’t fix it? And even if you could, this Vecna asshole was about to end the world anyway so what the hell did it matter?

How were a bunch of kids going to do anything about it?

“Ahem,” the door knocked into your back and jolted you back to earth. Pulled a gasp from you and when you looked up over your shoulder you felt your anger return ten fold. “We’re leaving, geniuses,” Steve announced, pushing at you with the door.

“Least you know you’re an idiot,” you mumbled under your breath, standing up from your spot to glare at him at eye level.

“Real cute,” Steve shouldered past you on the stoop, took the last two steps in one go and turned to face you both as he landed on the grass. “For you, Munson,” he said, throwing a mask at Eddie, “Courtesy of Mayfield.”

“What’s that for?” you couldn’t help asking as Max appeared at your side and pointed so casually – too casually – at the mask.

“Gonna steal a Winnebago. Get that on, dingus. Let’s go.”

“Nice,” Eddie grinned up at the red-headed girl and yanked the mask on over his head, “Thanks, Red.”

“Let’s go,” Steve urged, waving his hands at everyone to get out of the house and you felt your heart racing.

“Steal a Winnebago? Eddie. Fuck that–”

“Honey, I’m already a wanted man–” Eddie cut you off and readjusted the ridiculous looking mask a bit. “–c’mon,” he said, tugging at your belt loop to get with it.

“I–that doesn’t mean you can just steal–”

“We’re way past that,” Dustin chimed in, shoving past you just like everyone else, “Besides, if the world’s gonna end anyway, what’s it matter?”

Shit. The kid had a point. It was probably fine. It was just a trailer. Maybe you could give it back afterward? You needed it more than they did. Right?

“Dammit,” you grumbled under your breath, now the only one still standing around. “Wait for me!”

❝ THEY TELL ME I’M HELL-BENT ON REVENGE, I CUT MY TEETH ON WEAKER MEN, I WON’T APOLOGIZE AGAIN ❞

The first time you ran into Steve Harrington was sophomore year. In the hallway before Click’s class. You were cramming everything into your bag, but struggling with your history book when you heard it coming.

Tommy Hagan’s stupid laugh.

Your stomach sank, eyes glued on your things and trying to ignore it. He was in your science class the year before along with his ditzy girlfriend Carol and they always made sure to get a spot in the back just to make out.

“Need some help?”

When you finally looked up at him he’d stopped right in front of you, the grin on his lips sharklike as Carol smirked out from under his arm. Another boy you didn’t know was standing just behind them wearing a stupid member’s only jacket, half unzipped, and had hair that sat perfectly in place. Too perfect.

“That looks heavy, hm?” Tommy said grabbing your book, voice all saccharine sweet and sharp around the edges. Flipping through the pages he pulled a face, clicked his tongue and weighed it in his hand, then made a show of dumping it on the floor. “Whoops. Sorry!” he half-laughed and your cheeks burned.

“Bite me, Hagan,” you snapped back, bending down to grab your book, and it only made his grin grow wider.

“Ooo. She’s fiesty today, Stevie. I like it.”

And then he chimed in. Stevie. The had-to-be-douchebag that everyone called 'King Steve.'

“Probably on her period,” he said scoffing a laugh, all confidence and bravado and the look on his face was so smug. Thought he was so clever and funny and when you finally turned around it was to take the two steps up to him in one.

“Really? My period? So original.”

It made him swallow hard. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he blinked back the flicker of surprise glinting in his eyes. He took a quick glance at Tommy like he didn’t want to disappoint him and then hardened his expression. Crowded down over you and nodded.

“Explains you being such a bitch.”

And it took the air from your lungs. Stuck in your sides sharp like a knife and you felt your throat tighten as Tommy and Carol snickered, but you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not here.

“Yeah. Bet you wish you had an excuse for being such an asshole,” you cut at him and it pulled an Oh shit! out of Tommy as he doubled over laughing, Steve’s mouth dropped open in shock.

Your feet couldn’t carry you away fast enough as you shoved your book in your bag and turned to leave, but you refused to run. Refused to let them see weakness, and as Tommy yelled down the hallway after you about tampons you raised a middle finger high in the air to punctuate just how much you hated them all.

Eddie met you in the bathroom after that, the one nobody used on the other side of school, and you told him everything. He let you have the joint he had tucked behind his ear for emergencies, listened to you and told you they weren’t worth it. Especially not Steve. Because even though Tommy started it, Steve was the one who dug in. Could have left it alone but didn’t and that was what really got you.

How obvious it was he knew how shitty they were being, but went along with it anyway because he had to maintain his status. Had to uphold how ‘cool’ he was and keep the line in the sand drawn between him and ‘the freaks’ like you.

So he wouldn’t get a second chance.

And he wasn’t worth your time.

Not then and sure as hell not now.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A THREE PART SERIES, PART TWO AND THREE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

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