#and boy oh boy did that feeling spring right back when I put together just who Lex found... the One Who Is Many has returned...

[eddiernunson]

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Thanks to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie

I’m astounded at the response to the preview I posted last week. Thank you so much for the love, I hope you enjoy all 40k (20k wtf did my brain go)

-

As you pull up to the little house at the end of the street, you look over to the sweet boy with blonde hair and green eyes nervously, curtaining a strand of hair behind one ear. He shoots you a smirk, white pearly teeth peeking from behind pretty pink lips. The date has gone phenomenally well, the conversation over dinner was easy and your date even easier on the eyes. You smooth your hands over the dress you’re wearing, picking at imaginary lint as you’re entirely unsure of what to say next.

Daniel, your date, leans onto the center console, the scent of his minty breath roping you in. “So, dinner was like, forty dollars.”

Your brows pinch together, the topic of conversation coming from left field.

“And the flowers were about twenty.” He says, his voice hinting at a subtext lost on you.

You think back to the flowers, a cascade of spring colours that drenched you in their floral scent. They sit on your dresser in a vase, waiting eagerly for you to come home.

“Okay…?” You ask, unsure of what he’s getting at.

Daniel sighs, suddenly the frustration you didn’t see before is clear on his face. “Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”

He’s raising his brow suggestively, and the atmosphere in the car turns thick as you realize what he’s referring to. You feel so stupid. Suddenly the smirk on his face isn’t sweet, it’s sleazy. The cologne he’s wearing isn’t earthy, it’s gross. He’s not a good guy, and you feel foolish for thinking otherwise.

You think fast, lowering your eyelashes in a feigned blush. “Actually, I think it deserves just a little more than that. Be right back, I’m going to grab a condom.” You wink as you get out, the cherry on top.

Daniel lights right up, apparently not expecting his ridiculous method to work. The sound of him undoing his belt makes you nearly gag as you run in the front door.

Your dad, the sweetheart of a single father he is, welcomes you with a kind smile until he sees your crestfallen face. “You okay?”

“No,” you choke back, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “He’s demanding I repay him for dinner.”

“Repay?” You tilt your head, inferring what it means. “Oh. Fucking twerp. You need me to–”

“Can I have 60 bucks?” You interrupt him, avoiding his angry eyes.

He melts. “Sure.”

You walk back out the door, head held high right to the little corvette that sits at the end with the cheeky asshole sitting contently, waiting for his treat. The window is still open from earlier in the night, which works right in your favor.

“Here,” you toss the bills at him, allowing a small smile to grace your face at his confusion. “Since you’re so worried about being paid.”

As soon as he understands what you’re telling him, his face curves into a scowl, embarrassed, but too proud to say so. “Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”

Halfway back up to the house, you turn back to the car as the engine growls into the night. How does that make sense? you wonder. Why am I being called a slut when I refused to put out?

The front door to your house slams shut again, and your dad receives the message that you would not like to talk about it. “Ed called just now, by the way,” he mentions as you reach the top of the stairs. Your pause in gait tells him you heard him, but you don’t respond because you can hear the smirk he wears, as much as you repeatedly tell him that Eddie is just a friend.

The flowers you thought so fondly of now have a looming presence in your room, like a dark shadow menacingly waiting in the corner. You ignore them as you lift the pastel phone to your ear, dialing the number you know by heart.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart.” Relief washes over you, instant and comforting.

“Hey, Eds. How was your date?” You and he had the same plans tonight, you just hope it turned out better for him.

“It sucked,” he sighs, sounding like he’s rummaging through his messy chest of drawers. “She didn’t want a date, I guess.”

“Well what did she want?” You ask, going through your own drawers for something comfier to wear.

“Uh, to be shown a good time,” he answers dryly, the sound of rummaging coming to a sudden stop. “Heard the rumors of Munson’s magic fingers and apparently only wanted that.”

Yikes, you think. Eddie’s had many hook ups in the back of his van, but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them. Your heart hurt for him last week when he admitted they rarely, if ever, reciprocated.

You didn’t think it’d be an appropriate moment to tell him you would happily reciprocate for him.

“That’s extremely shitty. Guess it’s not all that different from my date though, who expected payback from spending a lousy sixty bucks.”

“Payback?”

���Asked me to suck his dick and pointed to it,” you say, a million times more bluntly than you could to your dad.

“I knew that Daniel guy was an asshole,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I think our shitty dates deserve each other.”

You laugh, holding the PJs you plan on wearing as you sit cross legged on your bed. “To be honest, I don’t think Daniel would’ve been all that great in bed anyway.”

“I could’ve told you that. He looks like he would call thirty seconds a long time,” Eddie laughs. “Sit tight, princess, I think we’ve earned pancake night at Benny’s.”

“C’mon, I was just about to get comfy!” You whine.

“Nah, wear the pretty dress. It deserves to see a strawberry milkshake, don’t you agree?”

Honestly, a milkshake night with your best friend is exactly what you need. “Sure. See you in twenty?”

“Eh, ten.”

You throw out the flowers, tossing the vase full of water into the kitchen sink, shrugging when your dad gives you an apologetic look. You certainly are already over it, just another asshole in Hawkins, who would’ve thought? When the loud music from Eddie’s stereo pulls up, your dad nods in understanding, telling you to have fun as you leave through the front door.

The date night dress you wear is a summer dress that sits just above your knees, held together by spaghetti straps decorated with pretty blue florals. It's a dress you go to for formal events, and even saw a dance or two back in high school. Of course, you had to dust it off for the cute boy in your Psych class who ended up being a complete dickwad.

The fabric of Eddie’s beat up van is familiar. So familiar that you could argue his passenger seat has a permanent indent from your ass. Eddie has, in fact, pointed it out from one night stoned in the back with him, giggling as you vehemently denied it. At your sudden quiet shut down stature, he patted your ass gently, claiming that he didn’t want any other person’s ass planted on his seat except yours.

That conversation, as hazy as it was, stayed in your mind for days after the fact.

Eddie’s dressed in his own version of a date night outfit, tight jeans exposing his knees with jagged rips under a leather jacket and plain black t-shirt. He’s gorgeous, tauntingly so. It’s not much different from an ordinary outfit, but the faint smell of fresh laundry detergent and his best cologne is the best evidence he’s all dressed up.

The loud music speaks for him, loudly, pulling off before your seatbelt is even clicked into place.

The path from your house to Benny’s is well trekked by you and Eddie on late nights when you should’ve been doing homework but ended up goofing off instead. Martha, a waitress that’s been working there well over twenty years, smiles with smeared red lipstick and too much blue eyeshadow.

You walk in stride with each other, straight to the corner booth as the husk of 20 years of chain smoking barks over the gentle music, “Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”

Shut up, you silently beg her, avoiding either of their eyes as you stare at your lap, seemingly fixated on a loose thread at the hem of your dress.

“Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Eddie winks, throwing his arm behind you on the back of the booth. “We’re just recovering after shitty dates.”

“One day, you two,” she muses, tapping her pen rhythmically on her little notepad. It’s never been the same notepad twice, always decorated with a little cartoon sticker on the front. You’re tempted to run to the dollar store and grab her a larger one, but a part of you thinks she thrives on her many little notepads. “Alright, a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, pancakes with extra strawberry sauce and fresh strawberries on top, and waffles loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles. Correct?”

You nod in unison, both aware that she insists you will collectively rot the teeth out from your gums if you insist on overdosing with sugar every damn time you waltz in late at night. She’s given up offering other menu items, having ordered extra strawberries just to make up for your love of the fruit.

Less than five minutes later, following the blissful sound of a blender, the milkshake is wordlessly dropped off at the table, closer to you as even Martha knows you will be drinking 75% of it. The sweet, pinky taste flows easily down your throat, humming softly as you dip into the whipped cream with a finger. “Best milkshake in town,” You assert.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie answers, smirking, “you never let us get a milkshake from anywhere else!”

You giggle, licking some of the whipped cream that found a home in the corner of your mouth. “I could never! It would be like cheating! This milkshake would just know,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “it would smell the other milkshakes on me!”

“We couldn’t have that,” Eddie grins, grabbing the large glass to take a sip. “Sorry your date was such a jerk.”

You shrug, already having gotten over it. You’ll just need to sit on the other side of the lecture hall from now on. “He seemed so nice.”

“No offense, sweetheart, but I could’ve told you that Daniel Moore was a shitty person,” Eddie finishes another sip of the milkshake, making a large dip in the glass as the pink slush is pulled up the straw. “He likes to instigate.”

You rest your chin on your elbow, sad the milkshake is already nearly gone. “I had just hoped he would’ve matured by now…”

“In seven months?” Eddie asks you incredulously, raising his brows past his curly bangs. His expression quickly turns curious, tilting his head at you.

“What?”

“So, you’re willing to bet that Daniel Moore has improved just based on personal speculation alone but you’re not willing to believe me when I say Steve Harrington is no longer a douche?”

You roll your eyes. God, you should’ve seen this one coming. “That’s different! I only heard about Daniel. Steve Harrington actually sat back and laughed when Tommy asked–”

“You out as a joke, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” Eddie mumbles, grinning at your shocked expression. “Well, that was like what, three years ago?”

“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve Harrington now, of all people! Listen, I know he’s also Dustin’s friend, but I find it hard to believe that you guys even have something in common,” You shrug.

“I still can’t believe you refuse to give him another chance!” Eddie playfully retorts, licking some of the whipped cream that still sits on the rim of the glass. “He’s in your Sociology class, isn’t he?”

Yeah, and he seems to insist on forcing his friendship on you, too, no matter how much you resist it. If you found friendship in Eddie, it seems reasonable to find friendship with Steve, too. Yet, there’s a little part that remembers the cruel laughter, his carelessness with others’ lives, and it ripples down your spine in a violent shudder.

You haven’t gotten rid of the notion of being his friend completely, but it’s just not the right time for you, yet.

You shrug. The topic has too much nuance for a nice dinner with your best friend. Just in time, Martha wordlessly drops off the two plates, the smile that spreads across your face is effortless. Zachary, the night chef must’ve heard about the shitty night and added extra for you, because the mountain of strawberries on the table is huge, even for your standards.

Eddie smirks, reading your mind. “You gonna finish all those?”

“Absolutely!”

-

Eddie sits on one side of the open courtyard, flicking off ashes from his cigarette as he waits for you to get out of class. He mentally reflects on his crazy afternoon, taking another long, much needed drag. The car with the million symptoms was one thing, but the proposition he got right before, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

It’s been 13 days since Daniel, four awkward classes of avoiding his glare, and you’ve decided to give up on boys completely. The one you want doesn’t want you, and the dates you’re going on don’t seem to do well no matter who you say yes to. The two offers you’ve gotten in the last week were therefore denied, realizing that even if they are cute, you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.

Before the aforementioned date, you were practically begging for someone to ask you out, but for some inexplicable reason, now you’re getting offers left and right. Somehow people just know when you’re playing hard to get.

At least Eddie’s dates seem to be going terribly for him, as well. That’s one thing you can thankfully count on.

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be as gorgeous as it is. It’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”

He flicks the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie, this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to claw its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tiled floors and fall into the depths of hell.

“She asked you out?”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per se. But a girl like Chrissy, one with pretty blonde curls, adorable smile and a sweet disposition, it’s like your worst nightmare come true.

Thanks to living in such a small town, you can recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, walking in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?” You try to keep your tone nonchalant, but bitter jealousy coats your tongue.

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen, any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this doesn’t become a new habit of his.

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you try to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what will probably be another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.

You smoke more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong hit rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.

-

A weight on your bed suddenly dips down and you sit up quickly to face Eddie sitting on the corner of your mattress with a small smile on his face. Your headphones, still playing the obnoxiously loud music that drowned out his knocks, fall off your head as you sit up. You press the STOP button, clicking loudly in the silence as you stare at your best friend.

The anxiety of his date has eaten you all night long, the only thing strong enough to distract it being music loud enough to hurt your eardrums. You always feel some sort of anxiety, but tonight was even worse, eating at your brain in fear of how painful it might be to be third wheeling with him after being his #1 for so long.

For once, you can’t tell how it went. A slimy, selfish part of you is hoping he shares bad news. His smile breaks. Into a bigger, much brighter beam. Damn.

“How did it go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Eddie slams himself onto the bed next to you, hiding his eyes with his hands with his dimples deep, his pearly whites exposed. “Fuck, it was the best date I’ve ever had.”

Your heart shatters. “That good?”

“God, she’s– much better than I thought she could’ve been,” Eddie answers, peeking out from behind his hands. “It’s fucking crazy.”

Of course Chrissy Cunningham, a known sweetheart, is everything he’s ever dreamed of. Of course she lived up to his expectations. Just your luck. “I’m just jealous of your remarkable turn in luck, I guess.”

Eddie chuckles, turning onto his stomach to face you as he kicks his feet. “You’ll have your turn, baby.”

The pet name stings in the worst way. Instead, you raise your brow at him. “Look at you lookin’ like a schoolgirl with a crush. Pretty boy doesn’t even need makeup with all that blush.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching you on the shin. “You’re such a shithead.”

“Yeah, well you still choose to hang out with me anyway, so, that’s on you.” It takes everything in you to ask the following question, “So, tell me about your date, will ya?”

He does. He rattles on and on about how pretty she is, how easy the conversation was, how much she surprised him, how the night ended with a kiss that had Eddie giggling. He lays next to you, leather jacket put aside on the corner chair and boots next to your bunny slippers at the end of your bed. Your small twin mattress has you close in proximity, your side in direct contact with him as he rests his head on his hands.

“She’s such a cool girl, you know?”

You’re half asleep by now, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm the slight ache in your chest. It zaps through your heart, overwhelms your senses and makes you dizzy. Your eyes flutter shut, but Eddie keeps talking softly next to you.

“Why were you blasting your 8-track, anyway?”

The question harshly yanks you out of the haze, failing to think of something that doesn’t seem completely false. You wish you were a better liar. “Just stressed out about your date.”

He gives you a strange look, eyebrows tilted. “Hmm?”

“We both haven’t had a very good track record, lately, and if things won’t turn around for me, then at least they should do one of us a favor.” Not, not the truth, but definitely an over exaggerated version of it.

“You’re so good to me, you know?” Eddie asks, intertwining his hand with yours. “Wasting your anxiety on me.”

The rings are harsh against your skin, squeezing your fingers tightly. The physical hurt is almost comforting in direct contrast to your emotional hurt.

His scent is comforting, as it lures you like the pied piper into the land of sleep. It’s about another twenty minutes until he realizes there are soft snores coming from you. He doesn’t care to drive all the way home, despite it only being a five minute drive away.

He falls asleep to your comforting breaths, allowing your hand to remain engulfed in his.

-

The loud ringing of your phone jerks you awake, quickly crawling to the side of your bed as you grab it from the dock housed on the floor.

“Hello?” Sleep sits deep in your voice, spelling out clearly to your caller that you just woke up.

It just occurs to you that you could’ve just allowed your dad to answer it.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Eddie’s voice is chipper, alarmingly so since you’re not even awake yet.

“You sound way too awake for someone that didn’t believe in waking up before 1pm,” you quip, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

“Ha,” he deadpans, yet it's clear he’s smiling. “Chris wants to meet you. I mean, I know you’ve already met her, but you know, as my girlfriend?”

Ugh. It’s been a harrowing three weeks. “Yeah, sure. What did you want to do with her?”

“I thought we could introduce her to pancake night,” Eddie sheepishly answers, like he knows you would be hesitant to invite someone into your holy ritual.

Yeah. You don’t want to invite her. But…you asked for patience last month and it seemed that the universe has answered with a lovesick Eddie Munson.

“I don’t see why not,” you lie, finding it rolls off the tongue much easier than it used to.

“You’re the best! I’ll see after you study in the library, yeah?” He knows your schedule. On Thursdays after the morning Sociology class, you opt to crawl up into a small corner and hermit yourself with snacks and a pile of books to get the work that needs to be done finished.

In high school, you could get away with doing minimum work and passing, but with your dad paying and barely able to afford it even with his second job, it sent the need to do your work to the best of your ability for once. You owed him at least that much from all the calls of missed classes for four years straight.

“Sure.”

As you stretch while hanging up the phone, you glance over to the alarm clock to see the time and it lurches you forward in bed to scramble for clothes, textbooks, and scattered papers as your lecture starts in less than twenty minutes. You’re usually already sitting in the seat by then.

On your way out the door, your dad is surprised you’re still home, offering to drive you. You don’t want to burden him even more than you already have, so you insist you can ride your bike and still get there on time. Well, at least you hope you can.

The bike rack is nearly full when you get to the college, six or seven locks messily put around the poles, most bikes already fallen over. You jam your bike in between two of them, hurriedly wrangling the annoying coil of sturdy cable between what you’re sure is entangled in someone else’s lock, too. Whatever, they should’ve been more organized.

The clock on the wall tells you class started three minutes ago and your heart falls to your stomach, knowing the professor is a stickler for punctuality. His words falter as soon as you enter the hall, the heavy door echoing its creak against the walls. He graciously allows you to sit and get situated before he continues. He makes examples of every late student, and you figured you would never be in his laser eyed focus. Well, before your alarm decided not to go off.

The last chair available is the corner chair in the front row, the one spot in class you love to avoid. It’s too close for comfort, a place he often chooses for students to answer his questions even if they don’t raise their hand.

That, and it’s right beside Steve Harrington.

His fingers raise from the desk as a greeting, sharing a sweet smile as you start to collect your textbook and notes. You awkwardly smile back at him, your attention snapped back to the professor as he pointedly talks right at your desk in his lecture. Fuck, this’ll be annoying.

By the time the three hour lecture ends, your hand hurts from the amount of notes you wrote down, one side covered in graphite from smudging the paper. Your stomach grumbles, asking loudly for lunch after neglecting to eat breakfast as usual.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve follows a step behind. “That lecture was brutal,” You hear from behind you. You toss your head over your shoulder to glance back at him before turning back around.

“I guess.” You say awkwardly. Here we go again.

“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”

Neither did you. “They’re doing great, from what I hear. Haven’t really met her, yet,” you answer, heading straight to the small cafe that has a home in the heart of the campus. “Listen, Steve, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”

You stop midstep, turning to face him. “It’s not that. I just don’t have the capacity for it, ok?”

“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.

Your jaw drops, stuttering through an empty sentence. “I do not like him!”

“Really?” Steve laughs, crossing his arms as he watches you build a brick wall around yourself. “So you not wanting to talk about his new girlfriend has nothing to do with the way your face fell when I asked about it?”

How the hell did Steve Harrington pick up on it so fast, of all people?

“Even if I did, why the hell would I want to talk about it with someone I don’t even know?” You sigh, looking wistfully over to the cafe. “Besides, I’m not even caffeinated yet.”

Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the said cafe. “Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”

“If you add a wrap to the deal, then I’ll think about it,” You say dryly, pulling a laugh from him.

The barista, a student who you’ve gotten to know is somehow managing to do pre-law and work part time smiles nicely.

“I’ll get a vanilla latte with nonfat milk and an extra pump of vanilla, please.”

Steve raises his brow at you before making his own order, “I’ll get a medium black coffee with room for creamer, please, and whatever this lady wants from the menu.”

You scan until you reach the egg omelet wrap with mushroom, bell peppers, and tomatoes. “The loaded omelet wrap.”

After Steve pays he meets you on the handout counter. “Why nonfat milk and the extra pump of vanilla?”

“If I get nonfat then I can replace the sugar with the extra vanilla.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”

You pick up the cup as it lands on the counter, wincing at the temperature on your tongue. “It works.”

Steve grabs his, shaking his head as he makes his way over to pour some creamer in.

The wrap is soon presented as well, steaming in its cardboard sleeve as the scent alone pools on your tongue with saliva. The only thing that got you through that lecture was just the thought of lunch.

Steve meets you at a two-top by the window, setting his own bag down as he sits right across from you.

The omelet, much too hot to eat, sits waiting for you on the chestnut brown table as you sip on the latte. The latte is much too hot as well, but you’ve never had enough patience to wait for that caffeine kick. If you weren’t so afraid of your professor’s wrath you would’ve shown up another ten minutes late with a coffee cup in hand.

Steve allows you and himself a few minutes of quiet before he speaks. “So, why don’t you tell him?”

You cough mid sip, mentally apologizing to your lungs for allowing non-oxygen to make its way in. “I’m sorry?”

“Stop pretending. Eddie was dead on when he said you were a bad liar,” Steve says, grinning with stupid smirk on his face.

“Why have you and Eddie talked about me?” You ask, narrowing your glance towards him.

“Are you kidding? You’re all he talks about,” Steve shrugs, so nonchalant that you have no choice but to believe him. “Kind of annoying, actually.”

“Why?”

“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”

You huff in laughter at how distraught he genuinely seems by it, his face contorted into someone who definitely isn’t used to rejection. You cock an eyebrow at him. “Can you exactly blame me?”

“Yes! I can! Everybody loves me!” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, and damn it if you can’t help but find it mildly amusing.

“Hate to break it to you, there, sweetheart, but the people who were picked on by you don’t exactly crave to be around your oh-so-wonderful presence.”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Picked on? I mean that’s a little harsh, considering–”

“Fine, yes, you didn’t exactly jeer, or outright bully even, but you watched and laughed along and sometimes that feels even worse,” you admit, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “Tommy and Carol said shit, that’s just what they did… But sitting back and watching sometimes is just as bad. You were nice, sometimes, I guess. But the fact that you had that capacity for kindness and chose against it just spoke volumes.”

“I met them in seventh grade. They weren’t as bad back then, mostly just somewhat belligerent. They got worse over time, but we all had terrible home lives, it was like we were the only ones that got what that was like…and somewhere along the way, I forgot that just because we had an excuse didn’t mean they had the right.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you answer, glancing at the omelet, debating taking your first steaming bite. “I mean, I’m not condoning it, but sometimes loyalty can be blinding.”

“I’m not that douche, anymore. I got that knocked out of me when I was seventeen. Literally. Now I spend most of my free time with a high school junior,” he laughs, taking another large sip of his coffee.

“Aah, Dustin,” you hum, thinking of the many instances where he had tried to convince you of what Steve had just told you. What made you so insistent on denying believing in either of your friends seems to dissipate, however, just in the friendliness that Steve radiates alone. Damn his charisma. “Would you believe me if I said he vouched for you many times?”

“The kid loves me, what can I say?” He shrugs, not hiding his laughter. “Now. Back to you. Why not tell him?”

No use in hiding it. If Steve can bare his soul in the middle of the day at a damn cafe just to get you to trust him, you suppose you owed him the same. “‘Cause he doesn’t feel the same,” you answer, starting to peel open the snack from the hunger pang. “Why make it weird when there’s nothing that could come from it?” You shrug, looking down sheepishly as the weight of your words sink into your heart like a stone.

“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.

You hesitate. “Is this a trick question?”

“Nope. I just wonder if you truly believe it, or if you’re too scared to let yourself have something you’ve wanted for so long.”

“Where do you get off on acting like you’re some sort of expert on this?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question rings out from the mere fact that he is dead on the nose. He couldn’t be any more right. The very idea that Eddie had even an inkling of what you had for him scares you to death. You would rather keep him as a friend and lie in wait than lose him from a great love and not have him at all.

“I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he admits, twirling his almost empty coffee cup. “I’ve heard countless hours of Eddie talking about you, yet I haven’t heard him speak once about Chrissy. That says a lot, don’t you think?”

“Well, me neither, and I’m his best friend. Don’t get down on your luck.”

“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”

“You seem to be very convinced of something that is not real,” you tell him, garbled from the bite of omelet you’re in the middle of swallowing. “If you keep this energy up when you’re studying, you would probably do pretty well for yourself.”

“Fine. Remain in denial. I don’t care. You can destroy yourself from the inside. Who cares? Just, let me in. I need someone to help me with these assignments. They are mind numbingly dull.” He throws his hands up like he’s admitting defeat.

“You need a study buddy?” You laugh, hiding the food that sits in between bites. “I suppose that could be arranged.”

“Sweet. Now are you gonna treat me to a coffee every now and then, or?”

“I have a single father, not an unlimited credit card from Daddy’s big business, Steve Harrington.” You say matter-of-factly, jabbing your finger towards him accusingly.

“Oh, so I have to provide the newly released movies and buy the coffee, I see how it is.”

“Privilege breeds responsibility, Stevie. I don’t make the rules.” You give him a half smirk. As you look at him, you’re finally seeing the person you thought could see all those years ago behind the mask of his terrible friends. Steve’s ambush would be the best thing to come out of the next few weeks.

Because it turned into hell.

-

As your hair runs wild behind you, there’s a grand attempt to allow yourself to let the wind distract you from the sinking feeling in your gut. It grows bigger and bigger, until it becomes unbearable as you reach the gravel lining the trailer park. You allow your bike to fall heavily on the trailer, taking a moment to collect your courage before knocking on Eddie’s front door.

It feels weird knocking. You can’t even recall the last time you did. But, you refuse to overstep any boundaries that might not be communicated yet. Being on Chrissy’s good side will make your life a lot easier.

Eddie answers the door, out of breath and sweating with wild eyes and even crazier hair. “Hey!”

“Hey,” you greet, stepping in right behind him. You blink, taking in the pristine surroundings. It’s like stepping into an alternate dimension, one where Eddie and Wayne regularly cleaned their trailer and preferred the smell of lavender over stale beer and greasy pizza boxes. The kitchen is spotless, the living room has a lit candle sitting on the coffee table, and the shelves containing the million mugs were dusted. “Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend?” You laugh.

He chuckles sheepishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as protection. “Uh, is it too much?”

“Better warn her now so she doesn’t get used to cleanliness,” you answer, watching as the surfaces around you sparkle and shine.

“Ha, ha. I have to get dressed. I have some snacks on the kitchen counter. You mind starting the popcorn?” Eddie doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer, already walking to his room.

You get a glimpse of his bedroom as he shuts the door behind him, smirking at the clothes still scattered on his floor. At least one part of this little haven of yours remains normal.

The popcorn shakes in your hold as you continually stir it on the stove to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the thin aluminum bottom and burning. Just as the first batch of kernels reach their limit, a knock from the front door hits, each one feeling like a crack in any normalcy you’ve ever had.

Things will never feel the same ever again. Not after tonight. On your way to open the door you try to tell yourself that it can be a good thing.

Right?

The door opens to the once head cheerleader of Hawkins High, wearing a pink dress that fits her tiny frame nicely with blonde curls and bangs that beautifully frame her face. Her hands are folded behind her back, standing meekly in white sneakers and long lashes and blue eyeshadow. It’s hard not to be envious of how pretty she is.

It’s clear she’s not expecting you to open the door. “Hey! Sorry, Eddie’s just in his room. He should be out any minute.”

“Oh. Ok,” she enters as you back up, wringing her hands together, probably out of anxiety. “What movie did he rent?”

“You know, I was so busy making fun of him for cleaning up for once I didn’t bother to ask,” you admit, hoping to make the atmosphere just a little bit lighter.

She looks around the place, seemingly taking it in. “Hmm,” she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”

“Sure,” you answer, walking back to the kitchen, hoping the popcorn isn’t irredeemably burnt. “Do you want butter on the popcorn?”

“Yes please!”

You’re in the middle of mentally begging Eddie to come out already while the butter melts in the microwave, the hum of the microwave loud in the silence.

“Okay! I’m ready!” Eddie announces, opening the bedroom door with a flourish. “Sorry for the wait!”

As he gets to the couch behind Chrissy, he wraps her in a big hug and plants kisses all over her neck. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

You hold back the nausea as you pour the hot butter all over the popcorn in the large plastic bowl. You find it ironic that this is the same bowl you’ve held back Eddie’s hair over as he hurled into it. You just hope Wayne thoroughly cleaned it.

“Popcorn is ready, can y’all help me bring the chips and candy?” You ask, shaking the bowl to coat the butter over each kernel.

“We can do that,” Eddie answers, grabbing Chrissy’s hand as they walk to the kitchen.

“How can I help?” Chrissy asks, arms open as she looks around a kitchen she has no familiarity with.

“Um there’s some soda in the fridge, grab me and Ed a Coke, and you can grab yourself whatever you want,” you answer, pointing to the twenty year old fridge in the corner.

“Hand me some,” you command, holding a single hand for one of the many bags of snacks Eddie juggles.

The popcorn and a couple dozen little bags land on the coffee table in front of a blank tv screen. Chrissy sits with a soft grunt in between the two of you, cradling the cans of coke and sprite in her tiny arms.

She distributes the cans, handing them over to you and him. Eddie squats in front of the TV, pressing play on the tape which he apparently already prepared to watch. His plaid boxers peek out of his jeans, sitting above the studded belt as he adjusts volume and picture.

You share a smile with the blonde, opening your can and wincing at the loud hiss. You keep thinking about the days you and Chrissy will look back on how awkward this was. How the first days of this trio were so weird, and off putting, and how she thought you were a bitch when she met you.

Where she’s a friend.

You have to try.

“What are we watching?”

Eddie turns around slowly, that over exaggerated smile on his face that tells you he’s up to nothing but trouble. “Oh just a little somethin’”

“Oh god,” you wince, knowing that look on his face. You lean into her, whispering, “Hope you like horror.”

Chrissy turns to you with wide eyes and a queasy smile. “Not really.”

“Oh, this one is a classic,” Eddie promises, animatedly using his hands as he crouch-walks back next to her. “If any movie can turn someone into a horror fan, it’s this one.”

As soon as the music starts playing you recognize it. It’s a tune you’ve heard many times in his living room, subjected to it too many times if you had anything to say about it. Of course, you’ll watch it with him every time, regardless.

“Halloween? Seriously? The serial killer stalking the babysitter? You couldn’t think of anything else?” You roll your eyes. He could probably do a whole reenactment of the movie word for word if he tried.

“It’s a classic for a reason, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you, grabbing the bowl straight away. Of course, he will rip through the popcorn, he always does.

You feel Chrissy tense up, not that you can blame her. You suppose a talk about proper pet names will be necessary.

Each bag of snacks is eventually opened because you can’t stick to one bag long enough to finish it even if you tried. You get bored of the same taste too often. You have your favorite few, fuzzy peaches, M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, Swedish fish, and last and most controversially, at least where Eddie’s concerned, salt and vinegar chips.

He always has his own snacks at his disposal from nights of having the munchies, always on a dollar store run for said snacks. At each movie night he restocks, both yours and his alike, and suddenly you realize you will need to remember Chrissy’s too, if you’re going to be cordial.

With each bloody death that splatters the walls on screen, Chrissy grows closer and closer to Eddie. There’s a part of you that has considered using scary movies to cuddle up to him, but you’re just not genuinely scared of them enough to consider it. The ruse would’ve faded eventually. You try not to let the jealousy eat you up from the inside, no matter how much it burns your skin.

His arm wraps around her, petting her shoulder gently as she whimpers at the slash of his knife. “It’s corn syrup. Totally fake. You can tell by the color, it’s way too bright.”

Towards the end, the loud, chirpy, nauseating sound of kissing fills your ears. Your eyes can’t help it, they move towards the noise and immediately regret it. Oh god, they’re kissing. If you can even call that kissing. He’s practically engulfed her mouth.

Surely, with the company they have, they’ll stop, right? Their heads will remember and sheepishly get the fuck off each other? Right?

Two scenes and what feels like forever, later, you realize how wrong you are. “I’m glad you two are crazy for each other, really I am, but can we please wait until I’m gone?” You give an awkward laugh to try to stifle the discomfort coursing through your veins.

Eddie makes a surprised sound, almost like he completely forgot you were there. “Shit–sorry.”

Chrissy doesn’t make any apologies, in fact, you miss the way she rolls her eyes against his chest. She wanted to keep going, hoping you would take her hint to get lost.

Before long, the end of the movie finally arrives, the end credits rolling with that famous piano tune. Chrissy has practically stitched herself to Eddie’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist. The popcorn bowl is nearly full. All that work on it for nothing.

You sigh, about to claim that it’s your cue to leave when–

“I’m thinking we should show Chrissy one of our pancake nights, don’t ya think?”

No. You don’t want that. From the way Chrissy completely tenses up, neither does she. But for his sake, you both reluctantly agree.

Hawkins looks a lot different from Eddie’s backseat.

As the ring of the bell against the glass door announces your arrival, Martha’s head snapping up from the magazine she’s buried her nose in. “Hey you two, I was wondering when I would see you again!”

You and Eddie walk directly to the corner booth, as per usual, Chrissy trailing a half step behind him with her left hand intertwined with his right. Before Martha walks up to the booth, she starts the blender, the sound oddly comforting for how uneasy you feel.

“Well, looks like we got ourselves a little straggler! What’s your name darlin’?” She asks, the notebook she now holds a dark purple instead of the red she had last time.

Chrissy stares blankly at her, curling back into him. You don’t remember her being this shy in High School.

“This is Chrissy,” Eddie introduces her, giving her a fond look. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Martha’s penciled brows raise straight to her ruby red hair, the chewing gum loud in her silence. Her surprise only lasts two seconds, shifting into hospitality for the new member. “Welcome to these two’s many, many nights spent here at Benny’s. In fact, could you make them come a little less often. We’re starting to get annoyed at them.” She jokes, throwing a wink at you.

You laugh with Eddie, taking note of the fact that Chrissy is still silent.

“Alright, well I already know what these two want, did you need a second to look over the menu?”

She nods.

“Alright, well, I’ll be right back with your milkshake.”

“Can you make it one medium, one large with two straws?” You ask Martha, sure it would get more awkward if she brought one for you and Eddie to share.

“Oh, sure,” she answers, her voice unusually soft.

Less than five minutes later she returns with two milkshakes and a menu.

“Oh,” Chrissy comments, looking curiously at the pink ice cream drink in front of her. “I don’t really like strawberry. Can I get vanilla instead?”

Your forehead meets the table, punishing yourself. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to ask.” Eddie apologizes.

“It’s fine.” Chrissy smiles sweetly at him.

“Oh, you gotta eat breakfast, it’s tradition,” Eddie mutters, switching her page to the all day breakfast menu.

“Hmm,” she responds, pointing to one of the menu options. “I think I’ll get the poached egg with the avocado toast.”

“Alright. Should be out quickly,” Martha answers, grabbing the milkshake from them.

“How often do you guys come here?” Chrissy asks, turning her face to Eddie.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably more often than we should. Like when shit goes sideways, or we need a hit of sugar, or when we just feel like bugging Miss Martha, over there.”

“When did you start coming?”

“My junior year,” you answer, smiling at the memory, “his second attempt at senior year, we both didn’t want to go to the stupid school dance, so we decided to get dressed up and come here, instead.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?”

Eddie shrugs, petting her shoulder with his thumb. “We thought it was dumb. Then, we ened up coming back when both of us failed this one really important bio test. Then, by the third time she remembered our orders and had the blender going by the time we sat down.”

Eddie asks how your day was, so you inform him you managed to have a civilized conversation with Steve Harrington. You have an audience for the conversation, one member animatedly interested, the other politely listening.

Polite is definitely the way to describe it, no spark in her eye. At least, not the one she wears when she listens to her boyfriend speak. In fact, you can practically see them glaze over.

Just as you nearly avoid explaining the main topic of the awkward conversation, Martha comes back over with two plates, one for you, one for Chrissy. It’s only half a moment until she’s back with the new milkshake and third plate.

The mountain of strawberries is bigger than average this time, this larger size becoming something you might get used to if the staff continues to spoil you like this. You take another flick of whipped cream from the top of the milkshake, suddenly realizing you’ve barely taken a sip the entire time. Damn, it’s usually half gone by the time you get your food.

“Do you guys order the same thing everytime?” Chrissy asks, looking at both of your plates.

“Yup!” You exclaim, spreading the strawberry sauce around your plate.

Her blonde brows furrow. “Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,” she comments, cutting at her squishy green toast. It doesn’t look appetizing to you in the least.

“It’s not like we come here every night,” Eddie laughs, spreading his sprinkled whip around the fluffy waffle. “It’s fine to indulge every now and then, you know?”

“Maybe you guys should try something a little healthier?” Chrissy asks, her voice having what you think is a little bit of a bite in it.

“People don’t exactly come here to eat healthy, Chrissy,” you laugh, thinking of the menu item called Heart Attack Jack, which is a burger doused in American Cheese with layers of bacon and a bucket of grease. It’s not going to be a soccer mom’s number one choice for health.

“You don’t have to bite my head off, it was just a suggestion,” Chrissy mutters, curling into herself.

“I-I didn’t,” you reply, very surprised at her knee jerk reaction. “I’m just saying, if we wanted to go somewhere to eat healthy, we probably wouldn’t pick a greasy diner in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m not sure anywhere in Hawkins really has the healthiest choice.”

“Chris, what she’s trying to say is that eating a crap load of sugar is just tradition at this point,” Eddie says, intertwining her hand with his. “It’s a part of our ritual. You don’t have to eat like us if you don’t want to, we just thought you’d want to be included.”

“It’s just a lot of sugar, is all.” She’s barely taken a chunk out of her food, resembling a bunny in the very small, very tiny bites she continues to take. “Maybe I won’t join you guys next time. I don’t really understand the point.” She says sheepishly.

In the depths of your soul, you feel at that moment you would probably never get along with her, have given up hope on her completely. It wouldn’t be for a handful of weeks until you acknowledge that you had sound reasoning.

The bill is paid, money hitting the table on your and Eddie’s parts, the vanilla milkshake just barely touched. If you knew she wasn’t gonna drink it you would’ve doubled down on the strawberry, Eddie hates vanilla.

As you walk out to the van, trailing behind them as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, you find yourself at an impasse. “Eddie, can you give me a ride home?” Chrissy asks. She moves on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”

The pancakes you wolfed down churn back up your throat, threatening to make their second appearance for the night.

Eddie’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he tugs her in. Guess that answers that question. “Um, do you need a ride?” He asks you, almost avoiding your eyes.

Chrissy’s death stare is plain as day, silently warning you not to take it. Fine, you didn’t want to sit in the van with these two, anyway.

“No, it’s fine. I can grab my bike from the back.”

Chrissy beams, her curls bouncing as she jogs to the passenger seat. You hope your ass imprint is uncomfortable for her.

Eddie returns with the bike, putting it gently down in front of you. “Hey, Ed?”

“Hmm?”

“Might want to teach your girlfriend how to whisper,” you tell him, grabbing the handles from him. “It’s not considered a whisper when everyone in a ten foot radius can hear!” It comes out harsher than you intend it, but with how horribly tonight has gone, you can’t bring yourself to want to apologize.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie swears, the pink in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” you insist, dismissing it. You had a feeling she said it loud enough for you to hear on purpose, anyway. “Just use protection, ok? We don’t need any more Munsons in this world running around, creating chaos.”

If you got Chrissy pregnant I would actually be sick, is what you mean.

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, wrapping you in a hug over the bike. “See you next time, slugger.”

That was when you changed from sweetheart to slugger.

-

There’s no whiplash like discovering your best friend is a completely different person when he’s in a relationship. On one hand, phone calls with him are as ordinary as always, teasing and jeering and flush with the familiarity of a best friend.

On the other hand, when you meet with him and his girlfriend, he seems to dampen his wild personality and slice it into ribbons for her sake. It kills you.

Reruns play on the small tv, old cartoons Wayne recorded for a rambunctious little kid in his mix. You’ve watched them enough to know some of them by heart, especially your favorite gags.

Eddie sits in the corner of the couch, curled up with Chrissy on his lap as they talk quietly. They’re low enough you can barely make out what they’re saying, but from the giggles alone, you have no interest in the nausea it would give you.

She was already in his lap when you got there, a sarcastic comment choked back having something to do with maybe getting off, opting to sit on the other end.

“Oh, Ed, the movie is next Friday,” you remind him, taking another sip of the ice cold coke in front of you.

“Remind me what that was?” Eddie asks you, peering his chin over Chrissy’s head.

You narrow your eyes, scoffing in incredulousness. “Uh, hello? I did not wait in line for hours for the Princess Bride just for you to forget!”

“OH, fuck I didn’t realize that was coming up so quickly!” Eddie exclaims, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, shit I’ll make sure to free my oh-so-busy schedule!”

“Sweet.”

“Oh, I totally wanted to see that movie!” Chrissy chirps, sitting up in Eddie’s lap. “Are there any more tickets for the night you guys are going for?”

“It’s been sold out for weeks,” you shrug, chomping on a potato chip. “I stood in line for like six hours that morning.”

“Oh,” she mutters, curling into him.

You wish you could say it doesn’t give you great pleasure to know she won’t be able to crash your movie night.

“You think, uh,” she starts, turning around to face you. “You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”

You scoff, bewildered that this even crossed her mind. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I really wanted to see it and it doesn’t really make sense for you two to go out for a date, now that he’s dating me…”

“I think you forgot the part where I stood in line for six hours to get these tickets,” you reply, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He’s avoiding you.

“And I’m sure we’ll all go next time!” She offers as an almost smug smile plays at her lips.

She can’t be serious. After watching her face, you realize she is fully expecting you to give up your ticket so she can go with him. Guess that Iron Maiden concert coming up this summer is off the table, too, you think, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

You look at him, waiting for him to say something to indicate how ridiculous his girlfriend is being, to stand up for you.

Oh. He’s not going to.

“I really don’t see the big deal.” Chrissy scoffs.

Of course you don’t. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you my damn ticket!” you snap. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”

Which is ridiculous, Eddie was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place. It looked like it was about adventure, something Eddie loves in movies. You decided then sure, since his birthday is right after the movie comes out, you’ll stand in line for the tickets then treat him to a fun movie night.

If Chrissy is uncomfortable with that, then that’s her prerogative, but she can choose something else to do with her boyfriend since she wants to so badly. You won’t let her walk all over you.

Chrissy doesn’t answer, but she’s clearly upset by yours. “It’s alright, babe,” Eddie hums, tugging her up against his chest so she curls into him. “I can wait until it comes out. We’ll just rent it, yeah?”

You’re not sure which makes you more nauseous, the fact that he just made a plan with her that won’t come to fruition for six months, or that he had nothing to say in the conversation.

You’ve never felt so unwelcome on his couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you later.”

Whatever comes out of Eddie’s mouth then falls on deaf ears as you fight the tears that irrationally threaten to spill over your water line. They’re stupid, your emotions are stupid, the movie is stupid.

-

Steve sits on the other side of the light brown table in the library, hunched over some notes as you explain the concept to him once more.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to forget this as soon as we learn it,” Steve whines, rubbing his eyes.

“Well you’re only taking Sociology because you haven’t claimed a major yet and sociology is required in most degrees.”

“That’s true,” he smirks, stretching his arms. “This still is all starting to look like gibberish. I get it, we live in a society in which the rules are not in our favor, why does that have to be studied to this intent?”

You shrug. “It’s fascinating.”

“To who?”

You roll your eyes, wondering how he grew on you like a weed. “Alright, we’ll take a break, then.”

“Any plans upcoming for next Wednesday?”

“Uh, no, at least not that I’m aware of,” you answer, putting your highlighter down. “We were supposed to see the movie for it, but, well you know how that turned out.”

“I’m sure there’s something he’s planning,” Steve assures, tapping his pencil rhythmically. “It’s not like him to not make a spectacle of his birthday.”

That, you agree with.

“Dustin said he hasn’t heard anything about it, either. He almost planned a surprise party for him. You think he’s just taking it easy this year?”

You doubt it, he’s turning 21, after all. Not like hasn’t been going to bars since he was fifteen, but now at least he’d be able to go into a major city with his real ID without getting flagged. Last year he prattled on about plans for this one, how he was gonna have a big rager at Steve’s and drop a whole paycheck on kegs.

You’re sure if he was going to do anything in those next two days, then he would’ve told you by now.

That Wednesday morning, you rise early to the sound of your alarm.

The kitchen counter is already filled with the ingredients you need, preparing for a labor of love. You hook your Walkman to your jeans, listening to the music blaring in your ears as you add one ingredient at a time, watching the batter slowly come to shape.

It’s familiar, your mom’s famous homemade recipe for cake batter. After missing her many cakes and the familiarity of her food, you finally searched for the cards containing her neat print, clearly and concisely telling the reader what her recipes needed.

It became your favorite thing to do when you missed her.

As you pour the batter into each divet in the tray, you recall the first time you thought to make a birthday cupcake for Eddie.

Neither of you cared much for first period, so it was easy to catch him before he woke up. That day you presented a vanilla cupcake with a swirl of black and blue frosting. You learned that morning he hates vanilla.

Every other instance of making him a cupcake has been a litany of flavors, but never vanilla.

As they bake, you whip up the frosting with a hand mixer, hoping the low hum doesn’t wake your father. He works so hard already. Red food coloring turns it from white, the process all too satisfying.

A plastic sandwich bag with the corner cut off is always just enough for you to pipe frosting on, the skilled hand you’ve trained after trial and error working fast.

Your dad always knows on February 19th he will wake up to 11 cupcakes on a big plate.

The pastry sits in a comically large container as you borrow your dads truck, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as you climb the stairs to the Munson’s front door.

You balance the cupcake in your hand as you head straight down the hall towards Eddie’s room. The sounds filling the trailer take a moment to register, for some reason not realizing how quiet it should be on an early weekday morning. The only sounds should be that of an early bird or newspaper hitting the front door.

Dread finds home in your stomach, as if on a very instinctual level you realize what you’re hearing. Though for some crazy, masochistic reason, those instincts wanted to be sure.

His door, wide open, reveals him hunched over Chrissy with the blanket barely covering his broad shoulders as he’s rocking. He’s rocking…and oh, you can hear her, too.

She’s moaning, whining, clawing her nails up his back like a leech, or worse, a tick, digging itself in and refusing to give up the tight hold they have on their victim.

Your mind goes empty, numb, until you hear her faintly wish him a happy birthday. You blink yourself out of the trance, blindly stumbling back into the fresh air of the living room. The cupcake lands on the kitchen counter on your way out the door, not caring as it slams behind you, definitely alerting Eddie and Chrissy of the third unknown presence in the trailer.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to even care about it, the queasiness deep rooted in your stomach threatening to make itself known on the outside plants.

You have a class in less than an hour, something you need to continue into the second year of your Communications degree, but not something that requires brain power.

The simple question of how you managed to ride your bike all the way to the campus, take notes in your class and blindly walk over to the library will always escape you. You somehow watch yourself go through the motions until you meet Steve at the cafe.

The moment he sees you, he knows something is wrong just by the deadened stare that’s taken over your face.

When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.

You’re in love with your best friend. And while you’re doing your best to be happy for him, your poor heart can’t handle it.

-

The cupcake isn’t mentioned until you call him two days later, still heartbroken, but missing his voice. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, despite the great ache that makes each and every day fuzzy.

Usually, more than half the cupcakes get eaten by him, which is why a dozen are made each year. There’s still more than half left, the very sight of the cupcakes depleting your appetite as his continued absence carves a bigger and bigger hole in you.

He answers on the fifth ring, sounding as if he’s in the middle of rummaging through items in some way, slightly out of breath. “Hey, Chris, sorry I can’t find–”

You swallow the pain. Maybe the lump of pain swallowed in your stomach will finally evict itself like the contents of stomachs should. Yet, the more you throw it up, the more it seems to gather. How does that work? “It’s me.” You say dryly, tiredly.

“Shit,” he breathes, the background noise coming to a sudden halt. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. How was the cupcake?”

“The mysterious appearing pastry was delicious as always, slugger.” Slugger. “What-what time did you drop it off?”

You know that he knows that you heard something. He doesn’t know how much you heard, but he knows the slam of his front door was you.

“I didn’t hear much. Just enough to know you had already received your birthday present for the year,” the attempt at humor doesn’t hit you very well. You’re not sure how it’s received, but Eddie laughs regardless.

“Sorry about that, she slept over the night before unplanned. I should’ve remembered your yearly morning cupcake.”

“Should’ve remembered you have a girlfriend,” you answer, wishing you had that better judgment. “Did you do anything for your birthday?”

“Chris took me out for dinner with her parents.” Honestly, that sounds like it was for her more than it was for him.

“Sounds fun,” you deadpan, earning earnest chuckles from him.

“They’re an acquired taste,” Eddie offers, allowing your slight criticism of his birthday party.

“You sure you still don’t want to go to Indianapolis and bar hop?” You can’t help but ask. It’s like you can hear his reluctance to accept the celebration he got.

“Nah. Besides, we can’t risk your fake ID, after all.” He pauses, an understated sigh passing through his breath. “How has school been?”

Small talk is not often something that passes through a conversation between you two. You’re aware of it, he’s aware of it, and it turns the conversation into something almost jilted.

“I miss you,” you admit, lying back on your bed.

“I miss you,” he parrots, soft and sweet.

“Can we do something? Just you and me?”

He chuckles, low and under his breath. “Sure. Pancake night. Just you, me, and Martha’s perfume.”

…that never happened.

-

The less you see Eddie, the more you end up hanging out with Steve. He seems to want to introduce you to his own best friend, but your admission of not wanting to be a third wheel again gets him to drop it. You can’t help but notice the only times you speak to Eddie are when you call him. He hasn’t called you since asking for Chrissy to join pancake night.

That alone wouldn’t entirely convince you to not call him anymore. The jilted conversations always ending with promises of time with one another never coming to fruition. It’s the equivalent of being skinned alive, one strip at a time.

Steve has watched the circles under your eyes darken, the enthusiasm in class deplete, and the lust for life dissolve before his very eyes. To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.

Yet, Steve knows how unlike Eddie it all is. Dustin has complained he hasn’t been called back for a long time, Gareth reached out to you asking if you’d heard from Eddie lately as they haven’t rehearsed for a while. He garners more concern than anger at times.

Steve’s living room has become a new choice of hang out space, but the unnatural cleanliness of the house, the lack of cologne that both Eddie and Wayne use, the familiarity of eight years of friendship, it gives this unrelenting feeling of emptiness. It’s worth trying to fill it with edibles and weed.

It doesn’t seem to work, but you’ve become more open, more free willing with him as a direct result. He doesn’t favor horror movies like you and Eddie, but you find common ground in action and slapstick comedy, instead. Anything but romcoms, you implore. Anything even close to resembling romance is rejected.

Steve spills the latest he heard from Hawkins’ elite country club group, a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do with their afternoons than spread rumors about the population as a whole and judge them for it. Steve knows for a fact which members of the country club have side women, bringing them in hours after walking in with their own wives.

It’s so nice to be concerned with the lives of others and to not care about yours falling apart at the seams. Well, really it's being ripped apart by Chrissy Cunningham’s greedy little claws.

Ironically enough, you get paired up with Steve for a major assignment in Soc class, one required to analyze social constructs that have been deep dived in class. Another little gift of irony is you were given Social Stratification, which is the hierarchical arrangement of individuals or groups within a society based on various factors such as wealth, power, and prestige.

Being from two very different classes, you and Steve find yourself uniquely qualified to discuss the topic.

It provides opportunities to hang out together, distracted by the collective want to not work at all, but driven by an looming due date. Your mind wanders to Eddie non stop, wondering how he is, if he’s ok, if work is still giving him a hard time, did he finally get the belt he was needing, if Wayne was taking it easier.

Your fingers itch for the phone to call and ask, always haunted by the memory of each phone call, the polite conversation and empty promises. You crave to remember what it was like before.

Steve seems to act as your voice of reason, disencouraging you every time you mention wanting to call him. He sympathizes, of course, but he recalls the last time you called him and the aftermath following it.

When the assignment is finally in the last stages, making final edits to clear up any loss in conciseness, the final second guesses if the point has been made clear, you sit on the floor of Steve’s room cross legged, going cross eyed as you reread it, again.

“I can’t wait for this thing to be handed in,” you groan, throwing your pen at him.

“I think we earned a celebration,” he sighs, throwing the pen back to you. “On Friday, after we finally hand over this paper to this asshole, I am throwing a big ass party in your honor.”

“A party will not make me feel better,” you reprimand, glancing at him under your brows.

“No, but a good excuse to drink the pain away, might,” he grins, leaning forward on his stomach and kicking his legs animatedly. He looks so innocent, as if he doesn’t have his own agenda. You’ve come to know him well enough that he really doesn’t. “C’mon. Let loose with me just for one night!”

You reluctantly agree to it after he pulls out his dumb puppy eyes.

News of Steve’s party spreads fast across campus, and you find yourself curiously excited for it when you usually dread dancing with complete strangers. The strangers at this point make it better, not needing to concern yourself with anything other than how the alcohol burns.

Your dad drives you to the party, the rain heavy on the pavement making it hard to bike in such weather. He’s noticed the way you’ve shut down a little bit as of lately, more than happy to bring you to a party if it means putting some life back into the eyes of his one and only daughter.

When you enter the door with slightly damp hair just from the walk from the truck, the party is already in full swing, music overtly loud, bodies bumping and dancing, empty cups already scattered on dusty surfaces.

As soon as you see Steve, he waves you over, talking to Robin, who he’s introduced you to. She became your friend the same way he became your did; ambush. Turns out, Robin is really cool. She hands you a beer, winking as you tilt your eyebrow out of skepticism.

“Beer, really?” You ask over the music, turning the bottle around in your hand.

“You’re drinking to forget, right?” She asks, an air of wisdom in her scratchy voice. “Then what does it matter what it tastes like?”

Well, you guess she’s right. You grab another from the fridge while you’re at it before they lead you to a couch. It’s surrounded by a crowd of people you mostly have never met before, more than happy to laugh with them at the particularly stupid topics of conversation.

You’re already pretty buzzed less than an hour spent at the party, having asked Steve to get you a third bottle. “Might wanna slow down, sweets.”

“I’m drinking to forget, remember?” You ask him, winking cheekily.

Time starts to meld together as the bottle gets emptier and emptier. Robin grabs you by the hand to dance with her and Steve in a circle, top 40 pop acting as a soundtrack while you forget any goddamn trouble that might have plagued you.

You’re chatting about some mindless gossip when something tells you to turn your head towards the door. The door opens to Eddie and Chrissy, holding hands as they look around the party that got even rowdier since your arrival.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, frozen in place as the emptiness his absence has left consumes you.

“Oh shit,” Robin mutters right next to you, but you don’t answer it as you stumble your way into the kitchen.

The internal debate on whether you need to drink water or more alcohol is roaring, so you drown it with more alcohol. Maybe you can shut it up. It’s too fucking loud. The ajar door opens and closes, a presence in the kitchen you don’t bother acknowledging. You don’t smell Eddie’s cologne, the momentary disappointment flooding your senses that he saw you and didn’t even bother talking to you.

Another sip. Another gulp. Make it go away.

“I was wondering when I would run into you,” it’s not Eddie, or Steve. Confusion takes over you as you wonder which male voice in your life you’re forgetting, turning to face the culprit.

Daniel.

“Here I am, I guess,” you mutter, taking another swig. “What exactly do you want?”

“Retribution.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, cruel and blunt. “I’m here for what I’m owed, sweetheart. I don’t get told no. Girls don’t say no to me. So, I think I’m owed some payback for the humiliation you put me through.”

What the fuck?

The laughter that leaves your throat is loud and abrupt, clearly not what he’s expecting. “Oh my fucking god, you’re just delusional. Girls don’t owe you shit for buying them dinner! You ask us out for a date, that’s on you, bud!”

“I don’t fucking think so,” he growls, slinking in closer. You can smell his breath, he’s clearly been drinking. “I will get what I want, I always do.”

Panic floods your brain, suddenly realizing he’s being dead serious. “Wait–” you protest as he leans in, the wall and your back colliding harshly. “Wait, no–”

“All you had to do was blow me, baby,” he chides, as if he’s reprimanding a small child. His hand harshly wraps around your waist, preventing you from weaving from between him and the wall. “Now look what you made me do.”

You try to push him off, panic continuing to push up your throat as he proves himself much stronger than you. Oh god, am I about to get raped in Steve’s kitchen?

His hand feels slimy as it pushes past your shirt, sending a jolt of shivers down your body. You’re shaking from fear, one cheek against the wall as you continue to resist him. “Stop– Daniel, please stop–” Your voice is frantic, eyes wide in terror as you try to push his hands away.

The harsh laughter directed at your pleas are cut off, an incredibly familiar voice slicing the air with malice. “She said stop.”

The heat you were surrounded by is thrown off, leaving the cold air behind Daniel to overwhelm you as he’s thrown onto the floor.

Blows of fists on flesh fill the room, watching in horror as Eddie has him pinned, delivering blow after blow to his face. You only see a portion of Eddie, his dark jeans and leather jacket as he hunches over his victim and blindingly delivers one punch after the other. Daniel has stopped fighting back, just a limp set of limbs as it jumps from each hit.

When Eddie has shown no signs of letting up you’re forced to jump into action, stumbling as you run into his line of eyesight. “Eddie, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You plead.

The sounds of brutal fists on soft flesh die immediately, Eddie huffing as he rises to his feet. “You okay?”

You blink as his hands frame your cheeks, petting them softly with his hands. A tear falls, splashing his hand. His concern is comforting, but the direct juxtaposition of his concern from the silence he’s fed you the last few weeks washes over you, confusing every emotion that has been hurting.

Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”

He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wander back over to the fridge, grabbing a beer from the second six pack you’re working through. You pop it open from the mounted bottle opener, taking a handful of sips. “You’re kidding me, right? You haven’t called me in weeks. Weeks.”

He stands there, blankly watching.

“I might be more forgiving if it weren’t for Dustin and Gareth and hell, Steve also saying the same thing. None of them have heard from you. You went from calling at least once a week to radio silence! I wanted to get along with Chrissy. I really did. I started all the conversations, offering snacks, asking questions about her, letting her set her boundaries, but she had something to say about everything we did together!”

Eddie stutters, blinking as he watches you talk. He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t try to defend himself. You don’t give him the chance.

“She clearly doesn’t respect you, otherwise you would still be my best friend and I would remember the last time we had a normal fucking conversation. I get wanting boundaries, but at this point, I don’t think she even wants you to have friends! Is that what you want? A girl who makes you make yourself smaller for her sake and isolate completely? Really? Because that’s what you have. No horror movies? No more junk food? No heavy metal music? She’s making you shrink yourself so she deems you desirable! Fucking– I can’t watch it anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean–” he’s interrupted by the door closing, a yelp filling the room as Chrissy runs to him.

“What happened to your fists?” You glance down to them, seeing bruises lining his knuckles.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Alright. Well. I meant exactly what I said. I can’t do this one sided friendship thing with you anymore,” you take another swig, wondering how the bottle was already so light. “I can’t. Call me when you find my best friend, because I haven’t seen him in three months.”

You leave the room, ignoring the calls from his mouth that suffocate you. As you stumble into the living room, you catch Steve’s eye right away, chin trembling. The hot tears that trail down your face have already drenched your cheeks by the time you realize it’s even happening, choking on the emotion that drowns you.

Steve guides you into the guest bathroom, closing the door as he watches you attempt to stop the sobs long enough to tell him what happened.

“I think–” you hiccup, sniffling loudly, “I think I just lost my best friend–” tears rattle through you once again, just saying it out loud feels like lightning in its startling ability to shatter you once more.

By the time the sobs diminish again, you’re sat on the floor by the tub, head sitting in his lap as he pets your hair. You sit up suddenly, mid hiccup as you give Steve an odd look.

He almost asks if you’re okay when you spill over his lap, whimpering between gasps as you know what you’re doing, the toilet only a foot away, but it continues to explode from your stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” you explain, tears falling again, as he sits in shock.

He grins sadly, undoing his belt. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

He finds someone, Robin, to grab him a second pair of pants, ditching the ruined pair in the bathtub.

The dry heaving seems to stop the tears, now staring blankly with a wet face and lashes that stick together. Steve brings you upstairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brings you to his bedroom.

As your head hits his pillow your eyes fall closed, mumbling something about fucking up, about three months ago.

Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.

From how your sobs shook your body, he might give him the whole thing.

-

The light cascading through the blinds hurts, like a dagger through your brain as you take in your surroundings. You don’t know how you got into Steve’s room under his blanket.

As soon as you sit up, the pain stabs you, pushing you back down. Ow. You don’t even attempt to get up again until the urge to pee hits you, when it’s too much to ignore. You rub your eye, tip toeing to try to get back under the dark blue comforter decorating Steve’s bed.

On the corner of the bed Steve sits, one foot resting on the other knee as he holds a jade green drink. “How badly does your head hurt?”

You wince at the volume of his voice, placing your hands over your eyes. “Not great.”

He winces sympathetically, offering the smoothie. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Blurry images flash through your mind, the kitchen, Daniel, half of the second case gone. You attempt to remember past that point but it comes up blank. “I remember running into Daniel.”

As you sip on the surprisingly delicious hangover smoothie, Steve watches you, wearing a clear expression of concern.

“Anything after that?”

You can tell he’s egging you on, digging for something with an unprecedented seriousness in his tone. But there’s no memory after that. You gingerly shake your head, which sends more needles of pain through your skull.

“Why?” You ask weakly. Steve pauses, ruffling a hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh.

“You really don’t, huh?” Steve asks, one last attempt. “Maybe it’s good you drank as much as you did, then.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.” Images of worst case scenarios course through your mind. What did you do?

Steve pats the spot on the bed next to you, double checking you don’t feel the urge to throw up. You don’t.

“Daniel tried to force himself on you.” He’s gentle, compassionate in his admission as he watches your reaction.

Huh. “How far did he–” you stutter, breath hitching as you bite back the sobs that suddenly threaten to rake through your body.

“He was interrupted before he even got that far,” he comforts you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he caresses it. “Eddie sort of bashed his face in.”

Now that you think about it, the memory of Eddie hunched over Daniel as he delivered blow after blow to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. You didn’t see the final result of Eddie’s defense, but the bruised knuckles you vaguely recall spell out how brutal the retaliation was.

Eddie.

“What–” you pause, stuttering through your breaths, “what happened after that?”

“You yelled at Eddie. Berated him. I think you even told him you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. At least, that’s what I gathered from what you told me,” he admits.

Your blood grows cold. From the weeks of silence, the jilted conversations, the slow resentment that bloomed through your stomach for him. The ache already hurt just from the absence of your best friend, but it was good for you. Fuck, this hurt.

“Is that all?”

He laughs, pulling your head into his neck. “Just that you can’t hold back your liquor.”

That’s why your breath tastes like vomit.

From the extra strength tylenol he gives you, the rest of the morning is spent helping Steve tidy up the trash around his house. Only after spending twenty minutes in the kitchen on his hands and knees scrubbing up the red stains does he allow you to help him. You only catch a glimpse of the paper towel soaked in dried blood and bleach when throwing out red solo cups, a small hint of the mess Eddie made of Daniel.

The thought of his name is a self betrayal, and you work faster once it crosses your mind.

Once the place is clean, you allow Steve to drive you home at his insistence, repeatedly asking when he pulls up to your house that you’re sure you’re okay.

Your dad is at work, not there to ask any questions you wanted to avoid from the previous night, namely why your eyes are swollen from tears. The blinds in your room fall with a trill resembling a xylophone, blocking the sun from your intense migraine.

For the first time in weeks, you’re stirred awake from sleep from the ringing of the phone on the floor that has been pushed under the bed. You let it ring.

Just as sleep pulls you back in, you’re abruptly startled as the phone alerts you again. You roll over, ignoring it as you wrap your head in your hands, curling into the pillow. No one has to get a hold of you that badly.

This person does, it seems, as they call you again. You groan, crawling over the edge as you grab the phone from your receiver. “Hello?”

You refuse the want to chew them out, to take your emotions and friendship breakup out on the person who has interrupted your sleep.

“It’s me.”

You lurch forward in your bed, still tethered to the receiver by the tightly coiled wire as it forces the receiver to scuff against the hardwood floor. Eddie.

-

Eddie’s sat on his couch, limply resting his head on the couch arm as the shrill voice of the main character complains over a problem that could be solved if she had just told someone. His hand rests on his eyes, shielding himself from the light to prevent the headache he can feel coming on. He’s given up on suggesting other movies by now, but she somehow seems to only play the movies that get on every last nerve.

He would probably be more willing to watch the romcoms in question if they weren’t the bottom of the pack. Last time Eddie even suggested a romcom he actually doesn’t completely hate he had to hear about it for an agonizing twenty minutes. Fine. She could watch her movie, he can practice on his guitar, right?

You would think.

So he dissociates and focuses on the gentle petting of his calf as he rests his leg on her lap. His mind floats to his best friend, how much he misses the smell of your shampoo, or when you make fun of the cheesier horror movies he loves to watch. If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.

Chrissy continues to insist that you like him, that you’re trying to steal him from her. It turned into many fights where Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend. There is a stubborn, immovable force still holding hope that something will just click one day and realize just how wrong she is. There’s a little nagging part of him, eating at his brain, warning that it probably won’t ever come true.

The possibility is almost too much for him to mentally handle, because when it blows up in his face and you decide not to forgive his radio silence, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle the absence in his life. So he procrastinates the detonation.

“I’m surprised you’re not going to Steve’s party,” Chrissy chirps, interrupting Eddie’s disarray.

Eddie blinks, trying to recall any mention of a party that might’ve slipped his mind. That might’ve been the reason for his ignorance if he could remember the last time he even spoke to Steve. He’s sure Chrissy knows that.

“I didn’t even know he was having one.”

She grabs at the extra material of his jeans, pulling his attention. “Did you want to go?”

He mentally rattles through the mechanics of going to Steve’s stupidly large house, knowing damn well his distance has managed to drive you straight into the arms of someone new, even if it’s only platonic. You’ll be there, the chance much more likely than not.

He wants to see your face, even if it’s in passing. He wonders if Chrissy sees you there if she’ll decide to leave early or just avoid you altogether. But it’s just the chance that drives him to agree.

By the time he gets there, vehicles have already littered the streets surrounding his house, some even audaciously blocking his neighbor’s driveways. Chrissy’s hand is in his as he walks in, anxiously looking around the party for you.

He peers into the living room, to the couch containing members of some of Steve’s closer acquaintances and it wasn’t long until he saw you, sitting right next to Robin holding the bottleneck of a beer bottle.

Your eyes are already on his, wide and still as you stare at him. You’re even prettier than he remembered, any polaroid he’s ever had of you does absolutely no justice to your radiant smile or vibrant eyes.

Fine, you’re staring at him like you would rather be anywhere else for the moment, panic flooding your features, but it’s a breath of fresh air for him compared to his last few suffocating weeks. As you stumble to your feet, Eddie tricks himself into believing that you’ve gotten up to talk to him until you pass the front entrance straight into the kitchen.

He supposes he deserves that, fading as Chrissy tugs him to the dance floor. His hands find her hips, allowing himself to get lost in the relentlessly catchy pop tune. He can’t help but allow his eyes to float back over to the couch every now and then, something in him carnally needing making sure that you’re safe.

Alarm bells go off, goosebumps trailing over his skin as something in him screams that you’re in danger. You could very much just be avoiding him, which he wouldn’t blame you for, not for one moment, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he found out his worry had any footing.

“Babe, I’m gonna grab a drink,” he mutters, blankly kissing her sweet scented blonde hair before his long legs take him to the kitchen.

His stomach drops as your voice fills the kitchen, asking the asshole with wandering hands to stop as he forces himself on you.

The next thing he knows, Daniel is under him, his back slammed on the floor with a face scrunched up in pain as Eddie’s fists are flying. His fists, his jeans, the floor, the whining little shit’s face, it all gets painted with blood.

Eddie doesn’t realize when the pair of arms stop trying to push him off, or when the green eyes no longer stare at him in horror, shut from the trauma of one blunt hit after the other. He just continually bashes his face in for even daring to attempt to force himself on the woman he loves.

Fuck this guy. Fuck him.

Eddie’s blind with rage, but he’s also blind with his own regret.

Your voice cuts through the anger, a warning that seeps in his brain like a sponge. If he keeps hitting him like this he will end up taking his life.

He stands up, facing your trembling form as you seem to be in shock. You melt in his hold, tears spilling over his hands as he caresses you, doing his very best to take care of you. He knows the answer when he asks, but he has to hear it from you.

Finally, the words seem to sober you from wanting his comfort to the hurt that you’ve felt from his silence. You lurch yourself from him, staggering blindly to the fridge as you grab another beer. The scent was harsh on your breath, the sight of you glugging back as much as you can sends jolts through his system.

Then you tell him everything. And he deserves it. He wants so badly to tell you how badly he wanted to call you, but the excuses sound lame even in his own mind.

When you tell him you’re done is when he finally snaps out of his own trance. He knows what you mean, but surely, you don’t really mean it? Before he can ask, Chrissy comes into the picture, doting over his bruised knuckles, ignoring you completely as she asks what happened. He’s fine. He’s not, but he’ll say anything to get back to what you were just saying.

Choked back sobs escape as you tell him with absolute finality that you are done, tripping over your own feet when you leave through the kitchen door.

No, this has gone too far. Eddie hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol but feels as if he’s wasted from stumbling after you, blocked by his girlfriend.

That conversation goes as well as can be expected.

In the hours following, he doesn’t seem to find you anywhere. But without Chrissy trailing after him, he finds himself free to converse with friends he’d missed, meeting their snide remarks of coming back to the land of the living with grace. Eddie stays for hours, half heartedly partaking in any conversation he finds himself witness to just in case you make another appearance.

Steve walks down the stairs after what feels like forever, wearing a grim look on his face. Eddie approaches him. “Hey have you seen–”

“She’s upstairs,” Steve answers, sighing. “Passed out. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”

“Is she okay?”

“Didn’t choke on her own vomit, at least,” Steve quips, his voice harsh. “Physically, she’s okay.”

Steve moves to walk around Eddie, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Physically?”

Steve sighs, angry, frustrated. “She just sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half, Ed. I literally watched her heart break! Safe to say, I don’t think she’s doing so well emotionally.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, feeling hopeless, like he should’ve been there to take care of you instead of being the cause of your suffering. “Steve, I–”

“Listen, Eddie. I just heard a bunch of shit from her that I’m not even sure she knows that she said. Other than her I guess telling you to fuck off, what else happened?”

Eddie gulps, not exactly wrapping his own mind around it, yet. “I found Daniel Moore trying to force himself on her.”

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, passing Eddie straight into the kitchen.

“Steve–” Eddie tries to stop him, or warn him at least, wondering how no one else has seen him, yet. There is almost no reason for most to make their way into the kitchen as the drinks station is in the living room, but usually a straggler or two, especially couples would make their own way in. He’s definitely not up and partying from the blood that seeped through the shirt he was wearing…

Should Eddie have called the ambulance?

“What the fuck–” Steve barks, taking in the crumpled form before him. “Jesus, Eddie, what happened?”

“You listen to your best friend beg someone to stop assaulting them and not beat the shit out of him?” Eddie retaliates, watching as Steve double checks to make sure he’s still breathing.

“Well, now I gotta get him out of here before someone has you fucking arrested,” Steve mutters, wracking his brain through old morally questionable friends of his that would help with no questions asked. Fuck. He has a few favors to call in. “Where’s Chrissy gone?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Eddie spits.

“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters, a fragment of seriousness in the joke.

“Well, not anymore,” Eddie shrugs, feeling surprisingly pragmatic about it.

“Oh.” Took you long enough, Steve thinks. “I’m gonna get him out of here, but I suggest you do the same.”

“Can I stay? I wanna be here when she wakes up.” His eyes pleading to Steve.

Steve’s brows raise. “Respectfully Eddie, I don’t think she really wants to see you.”

“I haven’t been able to tell her anything for weeks, I’m staying!” he insists, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Steve shakes his head, leaning on the counter. God, he wished he hadn’t invited a few dozen people to come to his house for the night. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots, but, man I think you’re the bigger one.” Steve walks around the kitchen island, getting unreasonably close to him. “I don’t know if you’re blind, or just selectively ignorant. She loves you, dude! She was willing to support you getting a girlfriend, but then you just shut her out. It’s gonna take more than an apology to be back in her good graces. When she wakes up with a killer hangover, I think the last person she’ll want to see is you. God, if one of you just made the jump years ago this never would’ve happened!”

Eddie’s heart drops at Steve’s angry words, refusing to believe any of his feelings for his best friend are reciprocated. “Sure, because three months of friendship tell you everything you need to know about a person.”

Steve chuckles, walking over the snoring asshole as he steps out to the living room. “I would have to be blind not to see it. She talked about you one time about this stupid fucking movie she watched with you and I could tell. Rather than telling your girlfriend that you have a best friend and she has to get over it, you shut her out. For weeks. And left someone else to pick up the pieces.”

“Steve, I know. I know I was being an ass–”

“Then why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you give her a call? You had to know she wasn’t going to forgive you so easily–”

“Of course I fucking knew that, Steve! Why do you think I put off letting it explode in my face?”

“Because you’re an idiot! She loved you. She loves you! If you can’t see that then I really don’t know what to tell you. Listen, if you call her tomorrow, I’m not all that sure what would happen. It’s gonna be a while before she’s ready to forgive, bud. For now. Maybe you should go.”

-

“Oh,” you sigh, hugging your knees into your chest, feeling small. A war rages in your mind. You were hurt enough by him to break your friendship off with him, but you don’t even remember it. The other side of you just wants to be close to him again, willing to sink into the apologies that he owes you and happily accept them.

But you shouldn’t. And you know you shouldn’t.

“Do you wanna come over for a movie?”

You want to come over and watch a movie so badly, it wraps around you and constricts your airflow. “Will she be there?”

“No. Just me and you. I promise,” Eddie swears, voice low enough that it resembles a whisper. “She won’t be, uh, crashing our movie nights anymore.”

You diminish the pulse of hope that threatens to bloom. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighs. “I was hoping to tell you in person, but we broke up last night…come over, I’ll tell you more. I just need my best friend…and a horror movie…and junk food, god, I miss junk food.”

You miss him so much it hurts. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The bike ride sends pulses through your head, worsening the ache of the hangover. If the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow, you might just ask someone to shoot an arrow through your head to put you out of your misery.

It’s been more than long enough since the last time you were on his front door step, nervous as you hesitate to knock. Eddie’s footsteps are rapid and loud as soon as your knuckles hit the door, the opening to him, wide eyes, graphic t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He appears unlike himself, almost tired. You wonder if you noticed it last night.

Before either one of you says a word, he tugs you in, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace in his scent. Overwhelming emotion takes over, his shirt absorbing the tears that fall. He feels like home, every part of him. His scent, the muscles flexing under your grasp, his steady breaths.

“I missed you,” he mutters, his voice low, choked, even.

Then why didn’t you call me? “Me too–” you whimper, squeezing onto him even tighter. You sniffle, curling your head into his neck.

The hug lasts forever, or at least long enough for your arms to become numb.

Your butt lands on the couch, the spot that was once permanently marked by you now weirdly lumpy from the lack of use. Did Chrissy know she was allowed to sit in her own seat on the odd occasion? On the coffee table, Eddie has already prepared the popcorn and your favorite snacks, only your favorite snacks. Three movies are laid out, all awaiting their turn in the VCR.

“What’s this?” You ask, rubbing your nose from the snot.

“Uh, three movies. Pick one.”

You read the titles, Back to the Future, Friday the 13th, and Labyrinth. “What happened to wanting to watch horror movies?”

“I have a lot of sucking up to do before I get to be picky with our movie night,” Eddie answers, his voice gentle and careful. “Pick one.”

If he says so, then you’ll have to pick your favorite, rather than his favorite. “Alright, then, Labyrinth it is. David Bowie in leather pants, here I come!”

As the movie plays, a teenage girl desperate to find her brother, you sink into the comfort of the ratty old couch. Through Eddie, you found out that the rattiest couches are actually the most comfy. The more tears and rips, the better. Eddie stands up, running to the kitchen to grab fresh cans of soda from the fridge.

He sits back down, handing you a Diet Coke while popping open his own. Two things you notice when he sits. One, he’s remarkably close, his ass nearly planted in between the cushions. Two–

“Since when did you start drinking diet coke?” You ask him, wincing at the aftertaste.

“Since Chrissy was such a stickler for sugar,” he answers casually, grabbing a bite of the popcorn.

His simple tone, emotionless and understated, squeezes your heart. “What happened with her, anyway?”

Chrissy blocked him, staring at him with wide eyes as she held his shoulders. “What–what is going on?”

“I need a minute,” he stuttered, attempting to walk around her.

“Did you do that?” Chrissy asked, pointing to the lifeless piece of shit on the floor.

“Chris, it’s really not a good time, right now. I will tell you later, I promise. I’ll be right back.” Eddie promised.

She blocked him again, hands pushing on his broad shoulders. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after her, are you?”

“Chrissy, she’s my best friend! That creep just tried– I have to go check up on her, make sure she’s okay!”

“You mean the girl who is pathetically in love with you?” Chrissy asked, belligerent and full of sass. “Sure, go and give her more false hope! She was practically all over you at the diner, mooning over you, desperate to take you out on a date, I mean, don’t give her fucking hope!”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his face angrily. “I don’t know how many times I need to fucking tell you, Chris. She is just my friend. She was being nice, trying to include you. I’m so fucking tired of this conversation!”

“So am I!” Chrissy crossed her arms, popping her hip out. It was times like these Eddie was absolutely sure of why Chrissy and Jason dated for so long. “You know what? Fine. Me or her.”

“What?” Eddie was unsure if she was being serious.

“Pick! Me or her? Because when you pick me maybe then she’ll get the fucking hint!”

It was the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life. “Her.”

Eddie finishes explaining it, mostly nixxing the parts where she berated you or talked shit. You just needed to know the part where she practically had a temper tantrum.

“Wow,” you mutter, remembering how you called Chrissy sweet when they first started dating. “And…you, you picked me?”

“Of course I did.” Eddie pops a kernel into his mouth, leaning back into the couch. His body heat is warm, his scent intoxicating. “You’re my best friend.”

“You haven’t called in weeks, Eddie.” It comes out quietly, the hurt overflowing in your body and pouring out your mouth. “I thought you had a new best girl.”

Eddie sighs, grabbing your hand. “If I could take back the last three months, I would. I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I missed you so fucking badly,” you admit, focusing on how your hand feels intertwined with his.

“I missed you. I know– I fucked up, but believe me when I say, I missed you so fucking much.”

On one hand, it’s hard to believe him. It seemed like it was so easy for him to cut you off. On the other, the glint in his eyes, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, gentle and unequivocally vulnerable.

Eddie leans forward, connecting his forehead to yours. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“You have a lot of making up to do, mister,” you inform him, pulling away from him to lightly nudge his hair.

“And a million strawberry mountains covered in strawberry sauce,” he answers, kissing your forehead softly.

“You really had me worried,” you admit, taking a good look at his face. “I believe you when you say that you missed me, but Eds, you hurt me. I want to trust you, but–”

His movement is swift as he grabs your face with his hands, pulling you in close. “I know, baby, I know.” The pet name takes your breath away, music to your unsuspecting ears. The name wraps itself around your like a warm hug, melting all those months of worry and panic away. “I’m so fucking sorry, if I could just–”

Maybe it wasn’t the right timing, months of silence, unanswered questions, hurt, but all that just conveniently disappears the moment his lips touch yours. You startle, jerking backwards as you look at him curiously, looking for something that’ll tell you he’s not kissing you out of pity, or obligation.

You’re met with the exact way that he always looks at you, but this time, it’s radiant. How did you miss it this whole time? You smile, wrapping your hand behind his neck as you tug him in, entangling his lips with yours and chasing that emotion that ran through you the first time.

Eddie meets your kiss with enthusiasm, grinning madly as he pulls you in closer, your body flush against his as he pulls you down with him.

It’s maddeningly enchanting, the way you can taste his minty breath and his hums against your lips, buzzing and tickling. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, pulling a gasp as you happily meet his with yours. Your skin feels electric as his hand sneaks under your shirt, as if he’s just getting the feel of you.

You sigh, curling your arm around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. His kisses trail along your jawline, down your neck, pressing sweet kisses down your jugular. “You taste like strawberries,” he mutters, audibly smiling. “I should’ve known, all those damn strawberries you eat.”

“Before we go any further,” you gasp, clutching at his t-shirt, “and believe me, I want to, you owe me a proper date.”

“Taking you out for a date, baby?” He places more rapid kisses on your neck, letting himself absorb your laughter. “God, I’m lucky.”

-

You’ve learned one thing for absolute certainty, Eddie Munson knows how to grovel. Between the many kisses you’ve shared that night you tell Eddie with surety that just because he knows how to kiss doesn’t mean he’s suddenly forgiven. Eddie relishes in that, grinning just because you’re kissing him.

The previous night he was losing his mind at his ex-girlfriend’s terrible movie choices, and you, his best friend, the person who has always known him best, you’re finally here kissing him. You could ask him to write a 1000-page apology letter entirely in rhymes or haikus and he would do it heartbeat, but all he’s required to do is prove it?

He’s more than willing.

When the date is proposed, he swears he would love to take you anywhere. He provides a list, with all of the restaurants you know he can’t afford. When you ask him and inquire about such, he shrugs casually. There’s a silent question there, wondering if Chrissy had even considered his wallet size before their date nights.

Instead, you answer with, “Our first date should be the diner, no?”

You’ve never been so nervous before, looking through your small arsenal of date night dresses. He’s seen all of them, whether from a school dance or the aftermath of a date gone sour. One dress catches your attention, at the very back of your closet covered in plastic, just waiting for the right time.

White, with blue flowers hand embroidered on the bodice, a sweetheart neckline and bubble gum pink ribbons tied together as the straps. Periwinkle blue that bleeds into mint green leaves along the hemline, fanned out into a hoopskirt. You’ve stared at this dress when it sat in your mom’s closet, asking when it might be your turn to finally wear it.

The dress fits you like a glove, looking remarkably close to the photo on the easel downstairs, a first date 25 years ago that ended up being one of your favorite bedtime stories.

As you finally make your way down the stairs, hair half up in curls in a ribbon matching the ones on the dress, your dad looks at you with pride and glossy eyes. Whispered words of the resemblance as he hugs you, eyes too tired for a man in his forties from loss and stress, a whiff of gratitude hits you.

It’s a warm spring evening, no need for a coat as the van pulls up with the usual melodies of heavy metal and drumming. You make your way down the sidewalk to his passenger side, butterflies erupting as you open the door.

The volume is turned down to a background noise, the heavy metal feeling oddly out of place at such a low volume. “Hi, sunshine.”

You grab his hand, petting at his calloused skin. “Hi.”

You feel his eyes on you, taking in the dress that is on its first night out in decades. “I don’t know how you show up looking this good and expect me to act normal.”

You grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and sniffing at the leather. He can’t say shit like that and expect you to go on like normal. “C’mon. I haven’t had a strawberry milkshake in ages.”

You open the window just a crack, appreciating the scent of fresh grass in the spring. New beginnings, fresh starts, rebirth. It seems oddly poetic.

He pulls up to the diner, bright neon lights against an evening sunset. It looks as if it’s painted, yellow into orange into blue. A lonely diner isolated sitting against a watercolor sky, but one of your favorite places in the world.

The bell ringing feels like an old song you haven’t heard in years, bringing some bittersweet nostalgia.

Martha perks up, the diner even deader than normal with only a lone man sitting on a bar chair holding a milkshake like a beer. The comparison sends a gag reflex through your body, never wanting to even smell another beer in your lifetime. As you sit next to Eddie, in such close proximity that the other side of the booth is useless, Martha appears with a cheeky smile on her face.

“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,” she sighs, hands on her hips as if she’s chastising two kids.

You and Eddie glance to one another, debating on fucking with her. It’s all the approval she needs.

“Finally! If you came in my diner again with those puppy dog eyes of yours I would’ve about had it with you two. Now, are you getting your regulars again?”

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulders, his thumb petting the bare skin of your shoulder. “I’m disappointed you haven’t already brought the milkshake, Martha.”

“Smartasses. The both of you!” She walks off, a brand new pep in her step.

His thumb turns under your chin, pulling your face towards his. “C’mere. I need to make up for the times I just wanted to kiss those pretty lips in this booth of ours.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, breathless as you stare at his eyes.

“I didn’t think the prettiest girl I know would want to kiss a goofball like me,” he chuckles, self deprecating and vulnerable.

You shake your head sadly, sighing happily. “You are so wrong.”

His chuckles are interrupted by your kiss, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt clinging onto his chest. It’s like you to forget how to breathe, taking the moment to take a deep breath before kissing him deeper, harder.

Your tongues meet, wrapping together with his and leaning forward to be as close to him as possible. His hand lands on your thigh, petting it roughly as he teases you. You hated yourself, hated how you told him you wanted to wait, because it’s becoming too much. The need for him sits deep in your stomach and begs you for any resolve from his teasing hands.

His kisses keep you only so satiated, whimpering by the time your make out sessions are done and ready to beg him to touch you already.

The glass of pinky sweetness hits the table, interrupting his electric lips on yours. “If you two do it, at least have the decency to take it to the bathroom like every other patron.”

You yelp, avoiding Martha’s eyes as Eddie tugs you in against his chest, kissing your temple. “Yes ma’am,” Eddie obeys, saluting with two fingers. Two, very distracting fingers.

You take a sip, humming. After weeks, you will proudly proclaim that this is still the best milkshake in town.

Eddie kisses your cheek, pulling you even closer. “If you lick that whipped cream off your finger, so help me god.”

It’s a habit of yours, one you’ve done at least once a visit just to get a taste of it before it sinks into the milkshake. The numerous times you’ve done it sinks in, unknowingly teasing him. “Something wrong with tasting whipped cream, Eds?”

“When you do it with that tongue of yours, yes,” he mutters, nipping on your jawline.

“Why don’t you have a taste,” you hum, taking a scoop with your pinky, licking it up.

Eddie pulls you in, humming as his tongue reaches out for yours to grab a taste of the cream melting fast in your mouth. He pulls back all too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he tuts his tongue. “Mmm. Yum. Thanks, baby.”

The milkshake is nearly gone by the time Martha rolls around again, pancakes and waffles in hand, interrupting soft conversation and sweet nothings.

He finally tries a taste of your pancakes, eating from the fork you offer him. His face winces, screwing up as he chews on it. “That strawberry sauce is sweet, ain’t it?”

“A little sour, I guess, but it’s my favorite. The fresh strawberries are a nice little addition.” You tell him, cutting up the pancakes.

“I’ll stick to my sprinkles,” Eddie mutters, dipping a piece of the big fluffy waffle in the whip. “They are the best.”

“I have a question,” you mutter, relishing in the taste of the sweet strawberry sauce. “How-how long have you liked me? Was it more recent, or have you liked me for years?”

Eddie smirks, placing a stand of hair over your shoulder. “Years.” He chokes back the correction of the word like, cause it’s so much more. “The first time I saw you, you were giving one of the football dicks hell for picking on one of the scrawny little freshmen. And I mean, berating him. You’re shy, baby, but not when it comes to others.” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “I knew from that moment.”

Oh. It was a handful of months before you found yourself sitting by the hellfire table, shaking your head at their antics. Plus, Gareth was just plain wrong in his opinion, you shook your head disapprovingly as you dug your nose in the book. Eddie caught on to it, demanding you join their group and inform him of how wrong he was. You did. You didn’t realize how charming Eddie was, how welcoming and genuinely kind.

It took your breath away, especially how gorgeous he was. The crush was kindled from then on, only being nurtured as you continued to debate him and his friends on their nerd culture.

Eddie followed up with the same question, asking how long ago for you, too. You tell him that very story, of how he enamored you just from being around him.

“You know, by then I was already head over heels for you,” he admits casually, sipping the last of the milkshake. “Something about sticking it to the man just does that to a guy.”

“Those dimples of yours are a weapon.” You admit in kind, and he laughs. You drop your jaw incredulously. “They’re a weapon! You think your hands are the only things those girls call magic?”

Eddie leans in, hot breath on your ear sending ripples down your neck. “And have you thought about these magic hands of mine, sweetheart?”

You gulp, licking your lips as your heart races in your chest. “Maybe...” You say softly.

He hums, tentatively kissing your skin. He really shouldn’t be doing this in a public space, you think, attempting not to wiggle at the uncomfortable feeling of arousal pooling in your panties. “I can’t wait to show you just how magic they are.”

You hold back a whimper, choking on it as your eyes flutter shut at his tentative kisses.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You nod, watching as he places the right amount of bills with a decent tip for Martha.

On your way out the door, Martha shouts her goodbyes, happily yelling out her congratulations as the glass door slams behind you. Eddie’s lips find a home on the back of your hand, holding it as he kisses loudly, tickling the skin.

The trailer sits alone in the park, all lights off as he pulls up. With the turn of a key, his arm wraps around your waist as you walk in sync. It’s familiar as you help him turn on the lights, domestic, even. His jacket is off, tossed on the couch as he tugs you by the hand towards his room.

You’ve thought about it so many times, whisking away into his room with him to devour him completely. Usually it occurs when you’re mad stoned, happy and horny, but too blizted to make a move.

Your hands curtain the back of his neck, thumbs petting the nape of his neck and tangling themselves in his curls, rubbing in small circles. His lips connect to yours, stumbling over dirty laundry as he guides you to his bed. “Hmm, strawberries.”

He yelps as lands on his back, laughing as you collide with an oof. The playful moment is quickly replaced with intensity, staring down into his brown eyes, darkened by desire. Across the years of being his friend, he’s darkened his eyes in many moments, right before he decides to pin you down and tickle you senseless or when you talk down on yourself.

There were moments when his intense gaze took you aback, mostly when you innocently used too much enthusiasm in eating ice cream or put your hair up in a ponytail.

Or when you wore a sundress that sat a bit too high on your thigh.

All these moments suddenly make sense, filling you with a gust of emotion as you grab at him, tugging him harshly for a kiss much more powerful than you knew you had in you. He gasps into it, deep and desperate against your lips as you pull him closer. One of his hands travels downward, hiking under your skirt and grabbing at your thigh, your knee pulled up against his stomach.

Eddie turns you over on your back, hands grabbing at the skin harshly, his rings pressing at your skin hard enough to create an indent. Your leg wrapped around his waist tugs him down, his chest landing on yours.

“Question, my love,” Eddie mutters, words intertwined with his kisses. “Why the hell haven’t I seen this dress until now, it’s…oh my god.”

You grin against his lips, pushing your hands past his cotton shirt. “Waiting for a special occasion.”

“You telling me I could’ve seen this ages ago, baby?” He gasps, wrapping your tongue against his, delicate but enough to make you mewl into his mouth.

“Probably.”

He nips your lip, a punishment for your cheekiness. “It’ll look better on the floor.”

Your hips grind up, meeting the bulge in his pants just right. “You can’t say stuff like that–” you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck to hold on to him pathetically.

“You have no idea the things I’ve wanted to say to you.” His hand travels further up, passing the waistline of your panties and spreading on the skin of your tummy. “All the things I’ve held back…”

The admission is thrilling and terrifying, giving you almost everything you’ve ever wanted.

Now if you could get that bike you wanted for Christmas when you were twelve…

“Can you tell me now?” you ask, smiling up at his pretty, bewildered face.

“Hmm, patience,” he tuts, using his hand to explore. “Right now I just really want to touch your pussy, please, baby, please.”

It’s your turn for bewilderment. He’s acting like touching you is this great honor, instead of a means to an end like anyone else you’ve slept with. “Uh, yeah, I want that. I really, really want that.”

Eddie sighs, using his traveling hand and dipping it under the waistband of your panties. As his best friend, you’ve gotten so comfortable around him, arguably too much. Late nights in his room with a t-shirt and panties as his room fills with smoke. Eddie is only human, appreciating them too much as as you sat cross legged with the strip just a tad too thin for what it was supposed to cover.

This particular pair is decorated in lace up the front, a sheer lace for the bum, a light blue to match the flowers. His fingers latch to your pussy, delicately moving them up and down the folds.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, playing with the slick and spreading it. “You’re so wet, all this…all this for me?”

He adds more pressure, rubbing small circles and watching you throw your head back and melt in the heat that spreads across your thighs and takes form in a tremble, in a shake. “F-feels good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit and rotating it in tiny circles. “You like the way I play with your pussy, baby?”

You frantically nod, grinding up against him. “Need..need more. Please? More?”

“What does more mean?” He leans in, decorating your neck with sucks and bites and licks. “You want me to lick it, baby? You need my fingers, you already beggin’ for my cock? C’mon my girl, use your words.”

You might just beg for his cock, but you don’t want it to be over so quickly. “Want–want your fingers, Eds.”

He giggles, planting a nice wet kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.” He doesn’t wait a second, curling one finger past your entrance and pumping it slowly, building a slow momentum that pulls at your stomach. He sighs, husky and deep, “Fuck, it’s so tight.”

He removes his finger without warning, not commenting on the moan in disappointment that escapes your mouth. He sits up, grabbing at the waistline as he tugs them down your legs, slowly, carefully, savoring in the moment. He lifts up the skirt, exposing the landing strip that sits waiting for his eyes.

“Did you decorate your pussy just for me? It looks so pretty… Thank you, baby girl,” Eddie is borderline emotional in his gratitude, showering you with praises.

Your legs attempt to close back together in embarrassment from his intense stare. He notices it, pushing your legs back down. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Keep these legs open while I eat your pussy.”

You drench your thighs, turned on even from the mere idea of being with him. “Mmkay.”

“You–” he gasps, delicately licking at the mound. “You taste so good. Wanted to bury my face in this little cunt for so long.”

His hands lift your thighs up and over his shoulder. His mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing, listening to the cues you give him through your quivers and whines. The dress is completely covering his face, hiding the man that is eating you out, slowly and carefully, as if wanting to taste every drop of arousal you feed him.

Before long, your legs start shaking in his hold from the pleasure that has your hands tangled in your hair, eyes squeezed tight as he pulls whine after whine from you. One finger slides right back in, facing no resistance, sucking on your clit simultaneously. That arches your back and curls your toes, gasping from his build up, his words, god just from the years of mental torture.

You cum against his lips without warning, for him or yourself, twitching around his fingers and crying out his name.

He coaxes you through it, kissing your pretty pussy lips gently until your legs stop convulsing. Sweat beads on your forehead, spreading on your back and neck and making the thick fabric of the dress too hot. You untie each ribbon, desperately grabbing at the neckline to pull it up and off.

He kisses up your torso, laughing as you get stuck with the dress half off. One heel digs in his back in retaliation, whining as you gesture to him to help you. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.” Eddie giggles.

You whine, kicking your legs for him to hurry up. Your hair is stuck in your dress. It lifts over your head, a light bra covering your tits acting as a tease for him. The dress lands on the floor, nice and splayed out as it’s done its purpose.

You roll your eyes, tugging him in for a desperate kiss by the neck, wandering hands moving south to tug at his t-shirt. “Wanna see you, too,” you confess, helping him rid of his shirt. “Show me those tattoos.”

“You like the tatties?” You nod enthusiastically although you know he’s just teasing you. “Oh, I bet ya do. Probably ogled them while I wasn’t lookin’ huh?”

With a chest like his, you don’t imagine he could blame you. You let your eyes speak for you, raking over his covered chest and openly staring. “Wanna suck your cock.” You look up at him with big doe eyes, silently begging.

Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission, groaning as you start to undo his jeans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last that long…I need to be buried in you, wanna feel that pussy around my cock.”

You gulp, wrapping your legs around his torso so his jeans meet your pussy, probably drenching a wet spot on the front. “Me too…but I remember you said you didn’t really get reciprocated very much.” You inhale, gathering courage. “I remember thinking how I’d love to spend hours with your cock down my throat.”

Eddie keels over you, curling his face in your neck as he whimpers. “You were holding that back from me?” He punches the mattress right next to your head, a mild temper tantrum. “What other depraved thoughts have you been hiding from me?”

“You want me to tell you, or show you?” You’re not sure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but you’re running with it, especially if it means you can hear him make that sound again.

“Sh-show me- want you to show–” he nods, whimpering into your neck and shuddering.

“Mmkay,” you muse, smirking at just how easily the shoe falls on the other foot. “Get on your back.”

He complies promptly, wrapping his arm around the small of your back and turning the two of you over. You straddle him, grabbing at his chest carefully as you plant kisses all the way down his lean torso. You bring teeth into the mix, sucking and biting and marking your territory.

You’ve been itching to do so since he showed up one morning with bruises decorating his neck, claiming his hookup got a little too eager.

I'll show you eager, you begrudgingly think, wishing that all the boys were teasing him from bruises you gave him, instead. God, there was one planted on his collarbone that was excessively large, annoyingly so.

You mark your way down his chest, his stomach, lapping greedily at his treasure trail as he whimpers at your enthusiasm. This is power, you think to yourself, wondering what other noises you could conjure from him. As your mouth moves, so do your hands, undoing his belt slowly, taking your time as you unzip his fly.

The evidence of his arousal is strikingly clear, his boxers bulging out of the open fly and begging for your attention. While your subtle glances downward gave you an inkling of his size, his hardened cock presenting itself to you, even disguised in its plaid wrapping, had you letting out a gasp in unbridled lust.

You wrap your hand around it, gleaming as he hisses, a hushed swear passing through his lips. You watch his face, observing him as you place your lips on the covered shaft, just letting him feel the heat of your breath on it. “Oh, fuck–” Eddie chokes, letting out harsh shudders.

The sight of his face is borderline angelic, all of his walls down as he focuses on you. You can’t help but smile at that, at how you desperately wished for nights like these, only paying attention to one another. You poke your tongue out, drenching the cotton fabric with your spit, working your way down the length.

At his little whines, you finally curl his fingers under his waistband, drooling at the taut cock that pops out, giving you a friendly hello, swaying from the spring. You smile ear to ear, delicately wrapping your hand around the base.

You kiss the tip, lapping at the pearl of precum that gives the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. “Mmm,” you hum at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop from his flushed tip.

You let the saliva that has pooled on the surface of your tongue drool onto his cock, spreading it down the shaft, absorbing the moan he rewards you with. “Shit, that feels–oh my god.”

You smile with pride, finally taking him into your mouth, enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. Your eyes remain on his, watching him as his face melts, committing it to memory.

“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, hips rutting up, clawing further into your mouth. You take him in further, gagging on it as you wrap your tongue around it experimentally, choking loudly and purposely. “Ch-choke on it, yeah, ch-ohmy god, just like that–”

Your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth, slobbery sounds of spit on flesh, his and yours, deliciously wet. He tenses up beneath you, whines growing more desperate, moans huskier, deeper. It’s a marvelous melody, one no composer could make even if they tried their hardest.

“St-st-stop,” he stutters, curling over himself, writhing under you. “Stop–I-I’m gonna cum.”

Reluctantly you listen, lifting your head off him with a pop and cheekily smiling at his heaving chest. You crawl upward, yelping as he wraps his arm around the small of your back and tugs you in for a kiss, more powerful, wrapped in an unnamed emotion you couldn’t possibly let yourself be delusional enough to define as. The one hand crawled up your back undoes the clasp of your bra, tugging it off your arms and flinging it across the room.

“Gimme those tits,” Eddie sighs, kneading them in his hands and toying with the flesh and nips. “Oh, they’re so pretty, baby. I love them, I‘ve wanted to play with them for so long.”

Eddie’s legs move under you, kicking off his jeans while holding you close to his chest. You sit up, tugging him up with you as you hover just over him.

His skin directly on yours, close and toe curling as you straddle his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. There’s a glow in them, eyebrows relaxed as he holds your hips, staring up at you with such enamour. “Want your cock,” it’s only a whisper, but loud in the intimacy between you two. “I want you.”

His brows furrow, only a moment. The thought passes through him quick as a flash, but you see it.

“What was that?”

He smiles, relieved and tender. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He leans in, pressing kisses on your clavicle, your neck, your shoulder, the swell of your breast. “Not-not just like this. I mean, fuck, I wanted it, so, so bad. But…I’ve wanted you, wanted your late nights and early mornings, to help you when you need to study, wash the dishes…sorry, I’m rambling.”

You pet his cheek, shaking your head. “No. Keep going.”

“I mean, we’ve always sort of had that, you know? It was just torture, not kissing you stupid whenever I wanted…because I wanted to. I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”

A breath of a laugh passes through your lips, attempting to absorb what he had just told you. “Really?”

You smile, holding him tightly as you kiss him, sighing happily as he confirms, nodding frantically. The head brushes against your entrance, pulling a whine from you. “Eds, I-I love you, too.” The kisses get more fierce, Eddie clinging onto you harder and nearly attacking your lips. “But…if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually lose my mind,” You giggle.

He laughs, combing his fingers through your hair, away from your face, from the sweat. He slaps his cock against your clit, teasing you with his head. “Of course, baby, you wanna ride me, hmm? Hop up and down on my big fat cock?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, hissing when he pushes his head in, watching as your jaw drops. “Oh, look at you, I knew you could take it like a good girl.”

You choke back a whine, swallowing hard as his words have such a strong effect on you. ‘Fuck, f-feels so good.” You stop, mewling as the burn of his girth becomes too much.

“Don’t rush yourself, baby, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on your hips, digging into the soft flesh. “So nice and tight, fuck.” His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.

You sink further, taking him deeper as the burn bleeds into bliss and back to burning again. “Jesus, s’good.”

“Mm, almost there, baby.”

“Move, please. Eds. Need-need you to move.”

Eddie chuckles, large hands holding your back. He lifts his hips, slowly filling you to the hilt and bringing it back out, one hand landing by his side to use it for leverage. You chirp out his name, mewling as he slowly rocks his hips. “Love the way you say my name,” he gasps.

You start rocking, slowly lifting your hips as you assist him. “You gonna make me scream it?”

“If that’s a challenge, then I will happily accept,” Eddie growls, gripping onto your hips harder and pulling you down so the union of where your bodies meet hurts in the best way. “Wonder when those legs will give up, hm?”

“I’ve thought about riding you on the couch too many times to give up easily,” you admit, giggling at his wicked grin.

“Oh, have you now? Been wearing those little panties just so I’d snap and ravish you, hmm?” He asks, hair wild as he watches you bounce on him.

“Maybe,” you admit, though that was mostly just out of comfort and trust of your best friend. “You have stronger will power than I thought you would.”

“Hmm, you think too much of me, baby,” Eddie mutters, framing your face with his hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

Admittedly, your legs are growing tired, but you soldier on, connecting your forehead with his desperately and watching his eyes glaze over. Your head already feels hazy, heat building in your stomach as you rapidly climb towards your climax. “You getting close? About to cum on my cock?”

You nod, startling in your movement as he starts to move you quicker with just the tightening of his grip on your hips. “Eds,” You whimper as he rubs his thumb on your clit, rapid movements as he hurdles you towards your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him as your eyes roll back.

“Lemme feel you squeeze my cock, baby, wanna feel you cum all over it.” Almost as he demands it into existence, you finish with a start, twisting your toes together and hunching over his shoulder while he rolls his hips, gasping and whining and mewling. “Oh, that’s my girl. Here, bet those legs’re gettin’ tired, hmm?”

You nod, giddily giggling as he maneuvers you on your back. “God, I love you. I really really do. I don’t–I don’t know what the fuck I’ve been thinking–”

You slap your hand on his mouth, giggling at his wide eyes. “Sorry, but…shut up. Rail me. Destroy me. We have time for all that later, now quit getting all emotional on me.” You take your hand off his mouth and pat his cheek. “Be a good boy and make me scream your name, won’t you?”

He chuckles deeply, his jaw dropping as he nips on the palm of your hand. “‘Be a good boy,’ hmm? Yes, ma’am.”

Okay, this turns you on too much not to eventually dissect it, but Eddie’s hips start moving, harsh and raw and brutal, just as you asked for. With each collision of his hips comes a whimper from the force, each one louder than the last.

His head curls down into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin as he sucks and bites and laps his tongue over the pain. “Look at your neck, all marked up. All mine,” He rasps.

“All yours,” you whisper, choking on the emotion that fills your throat.

“My good girl who loves to get fucked hard, hmm?” He chuckles, curling his arms tightly around you. “Oh, listen to those pretty little noises you’re making, so pathetic for me, oh fuck.”

“Ed-keep-oh-oh–” you gasp, whining higher and higher.

“Yeah, just like that. Pathetic little princess.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, skin to skin, all sticky and sweaty as the smell of sex fills the air.

“You’re moaning like a desperate little slut but you’re not screaming my name, yet. Can’t wait for it. Hmm? Why you makin’ me wait?”

“Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” you gasp, a smile spreading across your face.

Eddie’s eyes widen, lifting his body off yours quickly. “Oh yeah? Hands n’ knees. Turn around.” He sends a jolt of fear through you, eyes widening as move into a crawl position. “That’s a girl.”

His hands tighten on your hips, lining himself up and pushing in all within the span of 3 seconds. He’s relentless with it, lurching forward as he grabs a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, I can’t hear you.” He taunts you, pulling deliciously at your scalp.

He starts moving faster and harder, clumsily planting his lips on your back, messily trying to take any claim he can on you. One hand slaps your ass, Eddie hums, appreciating the print of his hand on your skin. Moans pass through your lips, the loud ones that Eddie was asking of you. HIs name is added into the mix, cross eyed and desperate as he somehow increases his force.

“There we are. Where do ya want me to cum, baby, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

“Cum–cum in me, Eds. Fill me up.”

“Fuck-you, y’sure?”

“Fill. Me up.” You say again, getting your point across.

“Oh fuck–” he stutters, jaggedly rutting into you as he bends over you, filling you up with sticky white ropes. “You feel that, baby? Fuck. You feel all full?”

Eddie releases the hold on your hair as you fall forward, breathing heavily as you collect yourself. He pulls himself out, collapsing right next to you. His arms easily wrap around your back, pulling you in against his chest. You curl into him, sighing happily as you listen to his racing heart.

You lay like that for a while, listening to his breathing even out as he pets your hair gently. He plants a kiss on your forehead, humming. “Why did that take us so long to do?” You ask, still trying to regain control over your breathing.

“Hmm?” He pulls away, processing your question. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re idiots.”

You tug him back in, feeling sleepy as you smile against his chest. “Yeah. Big, big idiots. I love you, idiot.”

He hums, pulling you in tighter. “Love you too, ya idiot.”

It’s strange. You thought it would change everything if he were to finally be yours. It doesn’t change anything, banter traded as always, only with a caressing hand that tugs you in for a kiss when he teases you. Hormones go wild, finding resolve in one another as movies are no longer watched, just a nice background noise.

-

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[ihave-atummyache]

jewelry

Stray Kids Imagine

OT8

summary: jewelry that shows the world u are their’s.

6.5k words

im not gonna say nsfw but im not gonna say sfw either…. some where in the middle.

absolute tooth rotting fluff tho!

also my seungmin brainrot is insane rn so like… just read and u will see

this is the song that inspired me to write this, can’t explain why, it just did.

Bang Chan:

Chan is definitely the type to absolutely spoil his baby!! Whether it's with jewelry or clothes or just nice words. He is such a caretaker and genuinely enjoys taking care of others.

He actually got you the locket for Valentine's Day. On the front, it has a pretty floral design and on the back in dainty cursive, it has his initials and your initials. You felt the tears immediately spring to your eyes when you opened the little black box.

"Chan! You didn't! This is so pretty. Oh my God," you can't stop the smile from spreading across your face and Chan can't help but mirror your own expression.

"Open it, love," his voice is gentle and you bite down on your lip to try to fight back the smile a little bit. You grab the necklace and gently unwrap it from the cushion before pulling it out and opening the small locket.

Inside is a picture that you and Chan had taken the first time you visited him. You had asked a stranger to take a picture of the two of you in front of the Han River and it turned into one of your favorite pictures of the two of you.

It was the same photo you used for your soft launch and one of your many phone backgrounds of you and Chan. Hyunjin had even painted the picture and gifted it to Chan for his birthday and it hung in his room, right above his desk.

"Baby," your voice cracks and your bottom lip juts out as your eyes fill with more water, "How did I get so lucky? You're literally perfect, you know that?" You finish your sentence and look up at your sweet boyfriend, his eyes swallow you up with pure love and adoration and you hand him the necklace before turning around and sweeping your hair over your shoulder.

"Can you put it on me?" You ask quietly. He grabs the necklace from your palm over your shoulder and twists it until its perfectly straight. He places the necklace over your head and fiddles with the delicate clasp for a bit before placing a kiss to the back of your neck, something he does every time he puts a necklace on you.

Your fingers reach up and gently touch the pendant, looking down at it again. You truly lucked out on getting the most perfect boyfriend you could ever ask for.

You turn around and press your lips against his, swinging your leg over his thighs and straddling his lap. You grab both his cheeks in your hands and hold tightly before you pull away from the kiss and start kissing him all over his face, his dimples, his nose, his forehead, his eyes.

He can’t stop the giggles falling from his lips at your antics. Your love for the gift made him feel absolutely elated.

"I'm so in love with you. It makes no sense," you confess and pull back to look down at your boyfriend again.

"I'm so in love with you, babygirl. You own my heart," his ears redden at his own confession and he grabs your hand from his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

"You really outdid yourself. If this is what our first Valentine's Day is like together then I can't imagine the rest of the holidays," you giggle at him and he smiles against your wrist before letting his hands drop around your waist, pulling you tighter to him.

"I want to make love to you now. I want everything off except this locket. How does that sound?" he asks suddenly and you smile down at him, pressing into his hips a bit harder, applying pressure to where he is slowly getting hard under you.

"Sounds like a plan," you agree and lean in to kiss your sweet boyfriend again.

Lee Know:

Minho is a bit possessive. We all know this. He can't help but wanting to make sure everyone knows that you are his, even in a subtle way such as a necklace.

"Baby? Are you home?" Minho's voice echoed through the empty space of your apartment. He continues walking further into your house until he finally lays eyes on you in your bedroom.

You were knocked out cold, making time for your daily nap. He chuckles as he shrugs his jacket off and places it in the chair at your desk. He reaches into the pocket of the jacket and pulls out the thin chain. He rolls the pendant in his fingers again, a small smile on his lips.

He approaches you where you are on the bed and uses this moment to really just take you in. You look so peaceful, completely relaxed against your pillows and a plushy hugged to your chest.

He gently moves a stray piece of hair away from your face before leaning down and placing a kiss where your hair just was. You twitch a little when his lips meet your skin but you don't wake up.

He gently moves his hand under your neck, careful not to stir you awake, and clasps the necklace to you. It falls just below your collarbone and he leans down to press another kiss to the skin exposed there.

"M-Minho?" you grumble out, slowly pulling your eyes open and being met with the soft eyes of your boyfriend. He knows exactly where to touch you to wake you up and your neck and collarbone have always made you stir.

"Hi, baby," your voice is still raspy from sleep and you can't help yourself from wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into the bed.

He lands on top of you with a chuckle before rolling off of you to the other side of the bed. You look up at him, still a bit dazed in your freshly awoken and cuddly state.

He would never admit it out loud, but he loves when you are sleepy or just waking up. You cling onto him like a baby and it makes his heart want to absolutely explode.

"I got you a gift, pretty," he pushes that same strand of hair from earlier behind your ear and you raise your eyebrows at him.

"Oh? What is it?" you ponder quietly, leaning into his touch. His hand gently trails down your neck before he traces the outline of the chain and rolls the pendant in his fingers.

"You already have it on," he replies, a smirk on his face and your hand slowly moves to your neck, tracing the necklace. You jolt up, suddenly much more awake and get out of bed to look in the mirror at the necklace around your neck.

It's a thin chain with a pillar bar pendant on it. You rub your fingers over the pendant before your notice the engraving on the front. It's his name in Korean on the front but you notice more engraving along the back as well. You gently spin the pendant around and on the back is his name in English.

"Possessive lil guy aren't you?" You tease as he rises from the bed and walks towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his chest to your back. You reach up and gently play in his hair.

"Mhm. You could say that," he agrees and places a kiss on your jawline. You twist the strands around your fingers and smile at your pretty boyfriend in the mirror.

"Your hair is getting long, my kitty," you comment and he breaks his gaze from your eyes to look at himself in the mirror.

"I need a haircut," he replies and meets your eyes again in the mirror. His gaze shifts down your neck, stopping and focusing on your pulse point before continuing down and look at the necklace against your chest.

"Leave it. I like it. Why did you get me this?" You question and drop your hand from his hair to play with the necklace again, sliding the pendant back and forth across the chain.

He shrugs in response and lets his fingers creep under the hem of your shirt, placing his hands against your warm stomach.

"Just because," he replies and you raise an eyebrow at him, not buying it for a second. He lets out a sigh of defeat, knowing you saw right through him.

"I saw some tweets. You're getting a lot of... attention. Male attention, lately. I appreciate them saying how hot of a girlfriend I have but I need them to remember that you are mine," he confesses, rocking the two of you back and forth while his thumbs continue to rub against your stomach.

You hum in response, still fidgeting with the necklace. It's pretty, stunning even. You know it probably cost a fortune but it came from the same guy who told you he would buy you an entire apartment complex so you didn't have to deal with neighbors.

"Also," he places a kiss to where your neck meets your shoulder, "I think it would look pretty dangling over my face while you ride me," he says it so nonchalantly and you smack his arm gently.

"Lee Minho!" You scold but you can't stop the giggle from escaping your lips anyways. He lets out a breathy chuckle against your neck, making goosebumps rise to your skin.

"Never take this off. Okay?" he suddenly asks, his voice much softer and a bit more vulnerable. You turn your head to lock eyes with him and immediately nod.

"Okay," you agree and lean in, pressing your lips against his.

Changbin:

"Is this corny?" Changbin turns his phone to you and shows you the matching bracelets that came up on his feed. They were simple and pretty, a rectangular charm with the advertiser's logo engraved in it. On the other side of the bracelet is half a heart and when placed beside each other, the hearts become magnetic and connect.

"Not at all. I think it's cute, bun," you smile at the screen and then look up at your boyfriend. He is studying your reaction with his own soft smile on his lips, obviously trying to read you and exactly how you feel.

A few weeks later, Changbin is even more giddy and excited to see you than usual. When you open your front door, he is bouncing on the balls of his feet with an adorable, dimply smile on his face.

"What are you so happy about, cutie?" You widen the door further, allowing his infectious smile to cause your own smile on your face. He bounds into your house, slipping his shoes off and making his way to the living room.

Changbin plops down on the couch and only then do you notice the package in his hands. He gently tears it open and opens the box, letting out a small gasp. You approach him from behind to get a look over his shoulder.

"Bun? What is it?" you question and he pats the cushion next to him, signaling for you to sit down. You quickly circle and sit next to him, turning to face him on the couch.

"They came. The bracelets I showed you!” he exclaims and holds the two pieces of jewelry between your faces. You smile at him and his adorable antics before grabbing one from his hand and flipping it over in your fingers.

His name was engraved into this one and on the back of the half heart was your first initial. You glance up at him and catch him already looking at you, big goofy smile on his face.

"You're the cutest ever, do you realize that?" you question and lean forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "Help," you wrap the bracelet around your wrist and flip it, holding it clasp up to him.

He lets the other bracelet drop into his lap and quickly clasps yours for you before offering his own wrist and bracelet. The chain was a perfect length. It wasn't tight enough to make you feel claustrophobic but it wasn't so loose that it was tickling you or sliding up and and down your arm and wrist.

You grab his wrist, bringing it to yours and letting the hearts connect before giggling at the action. You pull out your phone and take a video of the bracelets connecting before turning both your wrists over and filming your matching names.

"You're just so lovely, my Binnie," you whisper out after tucking your phone behind you. He leans forward, hands around your waist and places his plush lips against yours.

The two of you are so goofy and smiling that the kiss is practically all clashing teeth and giggles. You wrap your arms around his neck and look behind his head, glancing at the shiny metal around you wrist. How lucky are you to be claimed by Seo Changbin?

Little did you know, he felt even more lucky being able to claim you as his own. He felt an immense amount of pride at the fact that he would be walking around with your name on him at all times. He felt even more prideful when he thought about how someone may compliment him on the bracelet or ask about it and he gets to gush about you.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin buys you jewelry all the time. He can't help it! He thinks his pretty little thing deserves pretty things. Most are just absolutely stunning necklaces, rings, earrings, bracelets, you name it, he's probably gotten it for you.

The one thing he realizes he has never gotten you, is an anklet. He's seen you wear them before and he thinks they look so pretty around your ankles. He loves the way the chain glitters in the right light and the subtly of the accessory.

Also, being the absolute gem that he is, he absolutely worships your body. Every. Square. Inch. This include your ankles. It's a delicates spot on your body that has become one of his favorites. He pulls your shoes off after a long night and will press a little kiss to your ankle, rubbing out your sore soles.

If he has your legs on his shoulders while pounding into you, he'll turn his head and place gentle kisses and nips to the skin of your ankle. It keeps you grounded and some how drives you even more crazy.

You're sitting on the couch, your feet in his lap and reading your book while he focuses on the show playing in front of him. His hands gently trail around your ankle and down your feet. His touches are gentle but not gentle enough to tickle. If anything, it was making you feel more relaxed and sleepy.

"Do you like anklets, my love?" he suddenly asks and you peer up at him from behind your book, thinking for a moment before nodding.

"I do, actually. I just don't wear them often. They usually get covered up by pants or leggings or whatever so I only wear them when I'm wearing something that'll show them off. Why do you ask?" You inquire, curiously and he shrugs, turning to face the television again.

"No reason," he ends the conversation there and you nod, returning to your book.

A few days later, you receive a text from your boyfriend then a text from the front desk of your apartment complex, notifying you of a package. You hadn't ordered anything. What could you possibly be having delivered? You open the message from Hyunjin first.

loverboy: sent u something (: tell me if u like it honey

You smile, letting the pieces start to fall into place. The package is from your boyfriend and you excitedly bounce up from your bed. You slide your shoes on and make your way down to your apartment's front desk. They hand you the package and it's small, only a few inches wide and flat. You drop your brow to a furrow as you make your way back to your apartment.

You don't recognize the name of the sender but you tear it open as soon as you set foot back into your place. You open the box and inside if a small piece of jewelry with a paper on top. You read the paper first and it says its an anklet.

You smile to yourself, reminiscing on the conversation you two had a few days prior. You pull the jewelry out but what you weren't expecting was for there to be Hyunjin's name on the anklet. Your jaw drops and you smile widely before pulling your phone from your back pocket and ringing your boyfriend.

"You love me sooo badddd," you tease as soon as the line connects. You hear your boyfriend's deep, breathy laugh from the other side of the phone.

"That would be correct. You like it, my love?" he asks. You can't see him but he looked so nervous on the other side of the phone. He leans back against the mirror, surely leaving some marks but he really didn't care at the moment. He chews down on his lip while he waits for your reply.

"I adore it!" you exclaim, excitedly before scurrying to the kitchen table and sitting down. You place your phone on speaker as you debate which ankle to put it on.

"Put it on your left ankle," his voice suddenly breaks the silence, almost like he was reading your thoughts. You chuckle at how incredibly in-tune he is with you.

"You know me too well, Hwang Hyunjin," you tease and pull your left leg up into the chair with you. You wrap the jewelry around your ankle and clasp it.

"Send me a picture," his tone is more demanding than asking and you cant help but immediately obeying when this side of him decides to make an appearance.

You pull up your camera and turn your leg, snapping a picture then sending it to your waiting boyfriend. As soon as it sends, it says read and Hyunjin hums on the other side of the phone.

"Can't wait to have your legs up on my shoulders later. Gonna look so pretty with my name on you like that," he suddenly speaks up, his voice low. He obviously isn't alone at practice and you bite down on your lip at the thought that someone could hear his dirty words for you.

"Mm. The sooner the better," you agree, rubbing your thighs together subconsciously. If there's one thing your boyfriend knows how to do, it's turn you on with just a single sentence.

"I'm wrapping up here. I'll be to yours soon," his voice is gruff and he hangs up before either of you can say anything else to get each other worked up. You can't help yourself though.

You pad away to your bedroom and take your top off before sitting in front of your mirror and crossing your ankles. In the reflection of the mirror is your exposed chest and your barely there shorts and at the bottom of the screen is the anklet with Hyunjin's name. You press send before you can think too hard about it and he replies almost instantly.

loverboy: you're playing with fire, princess. behave.

Han:

"Happy birthday, y/n," Jisung holds the wrapped box out to you and you raise an eyebrow at him, taking the wrapped box with the bow on top from his outstretched hand.

"My birthday isn't for another three months, Sungie," you laugh and he shrugs, biting down on his lip to suppress the smile.

"Christmas came early this year," he replies again and you laugh, placing a hand on your hip.

"Is it my birthday or Christmas? Make up your mind, you goofball," you tease and look down at the gift in your hand again. You sit down cross legged on the floor and Jisung mirrors you, sitting in front of you.

You glance up at him once more, his eyes eager and big as he waits for you to finally open his gift. You smile softly at his cute face before finally beginning to open the gift. You pull the bow off and set it on the coffee table.

You have a shoebox full of mementos from your relationship and he has a habit of topping gifts with a bow and you started to keep them. You can pick out exactly what gift each bow was on still, to this day.

You pull the box from the wrapping paper and slowly open it. It has a necklace, a pretty one. It has two tiny pendants, a sapphire and then a little circular silver pendant with a virgo symbol on it. You flip the silver pendant over and engraved on the back is 'IX・XIV・MM'.

"Baby..." you trail off as you twist the pendant in your hand. Is that an authentic sapphire?!

"Do you like it?" he asks, quietly. You look up at him, shock still on your face before nodding vigorously. A small smile breaks out on his face at you reaction. He quickly realizes your silence is in shock, not because you don't like it.

"Wait until you see the next part," he speaks up and you look up at him, your eyebrows dropping to a furrow. He pulls his hoodie over his head, leaving him in a sleeveless tank and leans closer to you. His hands wrap around a necklace around his neck and you scoot closer.

It was your birth stone and your zodiac sign. You flip the silver circle over and engraved in roman numerals is your own birthday. It was practically identical to the one in your hands.

"Han Jisung. I'm going to cry," you speak out softly. He chuckles and you look up at him, your eyes big and sparkly. Your boyfriend is so thoughtful. Although it is a subtle gesture, it is very clear that he wants a piece of you with him all the time.

"Please don't because then I'll cry," he replies and his hand finds the side of your face, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. Before it can get any deeper, however, you jump up, necklace in hand, and rush off to the bathroom.

You hear your boyfriend chuckle from his spot before you hear him slowly get up and trail behind you. You reach the bathroom and attach the necklace to your neck before turning it and letting the two pendants hang on your chest.

They're so subtle but so pretty. It's a piece of jewelry that you really have no reason to ever take off. It's small enough to go with everything but stands out enough that it would never be overlooked.

"That blue looks stunning on you, darling," Jisung's voice pulls you from your daydream and you turn around to face him, your fingers still playing with the necklace.

"Ya think so?" You ask, tilting your head and he closes the space between you, placing his hands on your hips as you sit back against the bathroom counter.

"Mhm. Although, you do have the magical ability to look good in everything you put on. You even look good in yellow! Who the hell looks good in yellow?" he chuckles and you let your head fall back, a laugh leaving your lips.

"You're too sweet for me. I don't know what I did in my past like to deserve this kind of happiness but i'm very thankful to myself," you whisper and let your hands trail up his exposed arms until you interlock your fingers behind his neck.

"I thank God every night that you're mine," he replies, eyes still big and soft for you. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sappy sentiment and let the blush rush up to your face.

"Maybe i'll just get your name tattooed on me. Just in case I have to take this off," you speak up and Jisung eyes light up at the idea, a bit too excited.

"Would you actually?!" he exclaims, a ridiculous smile on his face and you can't help but roll your eyes, shaking your head.

"That was a joke and you're a little too excited about the idea," you counter and a cute pout makes its way onto his face. You lean forward, kissing the pout from his lips before looking up at him again.

"I love you," you breathe the words out and despite the amount of times you've told each other that you love one another, a blush still climbs to Jisung's face. The same way that you have learned to absolutely adore.

"I love you, endlessly," he replies and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Felix:

"What's your ring size?" Felix asks, scrolling on his phone and you freeze, almost dropping the bowl of food in your hand.

"W-what? Me?" you question, pointing to yourself and your boyfriend rolls his eyes before looking up at you. A small smile plays on his lips.

"Who else would I be talking to, angel?" he questions and you clear your throat before sitting down in the chair across from him. You push his bowl of food towards him and he locks his phone, placing it down on the table.

"Relax, baby. I'm not proposing yet. I'm trying to get you a gift. Something for your birthday that I think you would like," he speaks up, a cheeky grin on his face when he realizes just how flustered he has gotten you.

He leans down and takes a spoonful of food into his mouth and you clear your throat again, telling him your ring size for each finger. He quickly grabs his phone and opens the notes app, writing down your answers.

"What are you wanting to get?" you question and he looks up at you from over the bowl, an eyebrow raised.

"It wouldn't really be considered a gift if I told you what it was, would it?" he asks and you take a bite of your own food before shaking your head.

"Can I have a hint?" you inquire instead and Felix chuckles. He always tries to not tell you when he's getting you a gift because it always goes this way. You beg and beg and beg for him to tell you what he got you.

"Sure. It's a ring," he replies sarcastically and you narrow your eyes.

"I gathered that, you little shit," you grumble and he chuckles again, gently kicking your feet under the table with his own.

"You'll love it. I promise," he assures you and you glance up at his pretty eyes. They stare back at you, big and sparkly.

"Promise?" you question, slightly appeased by how assured he is that you'll enjoy your gift.

"Pinky swear," he stands and reaches across the table, holding his pinky out. You stand as well and interlock your pinky with his. You both kiss your thumbs and press them together before leaning towards each other and pressing your lips together in a soft kiss.

The night before your birthday, your boyfriend decided to spend the night. He claimed he wanted to be there as soon as the clock struck midnight so he was the first to tell you happy birthday but he also wanted to be the first to give you your gift... well gifts.

"Happy birthday, my love. You make me the happiest ever," Felix speaks up from beside you. He had to have been watching the clock because you didn't even notice the time change while scrolling through social media.

"I love you," you simply reply and sit up from his chest to kiss him softly on the lips. He pulls away quickly, much quicker than his needy self usually does, and walks towards his bag. He reaches in and pulls out a gift bag before making his way back to the bed and sitting crosslegged facing you.

"Open," he demands and you chuckle, locking your phone and taking the bag from Felix's slightly shaky hands. You reach in and pull the tissue paper out before you're met with three boxes.

You pull all three out at the same time and toss the gift bag to the side before opening the first box. Inside is two rings, both have pinkies on them. If they're placed together, it looks like a pinky swear. You open your mouth to thank him and gush about how much you love him but he interrupts you before you can.

"Open all of them and then let's talk," he chuckles and you smile, nodding in agreement before moving on to the next box. It also had two rings in it and engraved on the inside was you and Felix's initials and your anniversary date.

Finally you reach the last box and open it. A pretty diamond ring sits by itself in the box and you gasp. It was the exact ring that you had favorited a million times on your Pinterest and you look up at Felix with tears in your eyes.

"Felix..." you trail off and he's already looking at you with tears in his eyes.

"Okay, I lied. Maybe I was thinking about proposing. So, y/n... will you please marry-"

"Yes!" You interrupt him before he can finish and throw yourself into his lap, "A million fucking times, yes," You scry into his shoulder and you can feel the deep chuckle leave his chest as he buries his head in your neck.

Seungmin:

“I love that choker that Innie had on. With his name on it? I just know it costs an arm and a leg though,” you chuckle to your friend on video call and she nods at you.

“No but seriously. The stylists ate with that one. The whole look was just-”

“Okay! No thirsting over Jeongin! Please!” you interrupt her and she just laughs at you as your bedroom door creaks open. You look over your shoulder and are met with your boyfriend’s pretty face.

“Thirsting over Jeongin?” Seungmin questions, an eyebrow raised at you and you chuckle before pointing at your phone.

“Somebody is talking about how good Innie looked in that choker with his name on it,” you roll your eyes and your friend laughs on the phone.

“You started talking about it first!” She objects but you shake your head at her.

“No, I said I wanted one of my own. I didn’t say anything about how he looked in it. I was commenting about how good I would look in it,” you defend yourself and Seungmin chuckles, plopping down on his stomach on the bed next to you, mirroring your position.

“Mm. That definitely would suit you, pup,” he chuckles when you immediately blush, knowing your friend is listening in on the other side and watching you two.

“As hot as you two probably look fucking, I would rather gauge my eyes out than witness it. Love ya, y/n. Bye!” she rushes out before hanging up the call, not even giving you time to reply.

You let your head fall into the pillow, burying your burning face from Seungmin’s eyes. You felt hot all over and all he had done is give you one little compliment.

“You got me all flustered, Kim Seungmin,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the cotton but he just chuckles before flipping over onto his back and pulling you towards him.

“Hush. I’m the one that’s hard right now because of this thought, not you,” he counters you and you slap him gently on the chest, mumbling out something along the lines of ‘because I don’t have a cock that can get hard’.

A few weeks later, you’re at Seungmin’s place when there’s a knock at the door. He opens it and at the doormat is a package. He grins before picking it up and taking it to his room. You’re too preoccupied in the kitchen, fixing some food, to even notice he hasn’t returned until you hear him call for you.

“Baby? Come here!” His voice calls out to you and you turn around, realizing he isn’t in his chair where you last saw him and make your way to his bedroom.

“Yes? I wanna get this food done before the boys get home… what’s that?” you point to the leather in his hand and he holds it up, facing the outside towards you.

It’s a leather choker with big silver letters, “KSM” on the front. He reaches behind him and pulls out something that couldn’t be anything short of a collar with a little tag on it.

“Come here,” he beckons you to him and your feet move before your brain can even process that he called you towards him. It’s like your body moves on autopilot with him, ready to obey his every command.

“Kneel.” he demands and once again, you oblige. You settle on your knees between his legs, resting your hands on either one of his thighs.

“Which would you like to put on, pup?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. The pink choker/collar catches your attention again and you gently pick up the tag, turning it over.

On the back, it has simple writing: ‘Property of Kim Seungmin’. You flip it over again and instead of your name on the front, it’s just says ‘Pup’. You shift on your knees and pull your lip between your teeth before looking up at Seungmin through your eyelashes.

“You pick,” your voice is soft and you place both your hands back on his thighs, rubbing gently as your eyes dart back and forth between the two chokers.

“You like them then?” he asks and places both chokers into one hand before using his free hand to gently stroke the side of your hair, pushing a few stray strands behind your ears.

“I do,” you nod, forcing the words out. You know he will scold you if you don’t use your words and something in you tells you that being a brat wouldn’t work in your favor right now.

“What a good girl you’re being. So obedient. How about we wear the black one while you finish dinner and while we’re in front of the boys. We’ll save the pink one for just us,” he strokes your hair again and you nod.

He drops the pink collar and wraps the black choker around your neck, securing the buckle. His hands trail down either one of your shoulders, making chills rise at his touch.

“So pretty. Such a pretty puppy for me, aren’t you?” he asks and you nod quickly, trying to keep being the good girl he wants you to be.

“Let’s go finish cooking, baby,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, helping you off your reddening knees and back towards the kitchen.

I.N:

“Here, babe. I’m gonna be gone for a few weeks and I know that isn’t too long but I’m still gonna miss you like crazy,” Jeongin hands you a little box and you smile at him. It’s rare that you see this soft, confessional, side of him. It’s cute and so very sweet.

“I love you, Innie. I miss you already,” you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. You look down at your hands and open the box. Inside was a little black bracelet with a small, rectangular attachment and a leather strap.

You pull it out, eyebrows dropping in confusion. You drop the box and flip the bracelet, examining the leather strap. On the inside was a little message, burned into the leather.

lNo matter how far, my love for you is never ending.

“Innie, I’m gonna cry,” your bottom lip drops into a pout and he gently takes the bracelet from you. He secures it on your wrist and in this moment is when you notice that he has the exact same bracelet in a different color on his own wrist.

“I haven’t even told you the best part and you’re already tearing up, crybaby,” he chuckles and you blink away the tears behind your eyes. You squint at the nickname and he leans forward, kissing the furrow between your brows.

He drops your hand and reaches up to touch his own bracelet. When he does, yours glows and vibrates. He touches it three times, causing three vibrations and it lights up three times.

“No matter where we are, I can tell you I love you and we can tell each other that we’re thinking about one another,” he smiles at you, sheepishly and you let out a shaky breath. He’s so cute, it hurts.

“Baby, I don’t want you to go. Ever. Can’t you just stay here with me forever?” you ask quietly and interlock your hands with his. You bring one hand up to your mouth and gently kiss his knuckles before letting his arms fall, keeping your hands locked together.

“If I could, I would, honey. I hope you realize that. You’re so important to me and I’m scared I don’t tell you enough. I love you in a way that is honestly so terrifying. Nobody has ever owned a part of my soul until I met you,” he confesses and brings your hands up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles in the same way you just had.

“You don’t have to tell me, Innie. I know you love me. You know I love you just as much, don’t you?” you question and he immediately nods. He knows that you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you.

“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s only a few weeks,” he reassures you before leaning in and letting his lips entangle with yours.

A week later, you’re sitting in your office. The days have seemed much gloomier and longer without your angel here to be with you. He truly brought a kind of light to your life that you had never though would be possible. He literally brought technicolor to your life and you couldn’t be more grateful.

As if he somehow knew you were thinking about him, the bracelet on your wrist suddenly vibrates. You jump lightly at the surprise and smile down at the bracelet when it vibrates three times.

You pick up your phone and send a text to your boyfriend.

i love you most. goodnight my love. i miss you like crazy

You knew it was close to 3 am in his time zone and you know he wasn’t near his phone but it was still nice to know he would be waking up to the texts of reassurance from you. You press the bracelet three times, confirming in that moment that you love him too.

a/n: i gotta stop calling jisung cute but like... hes so cute>_< seungmin is so sajagsgssk. i NEED him. BAD.

[chrispotatos]

beg - chris sturniolo

summary: chris, your ex came over to your house telling you how much he needed you so you made sure he told you just that.

warning: hand job, mommy kink, overstimulating, blow job.

a/n: i lowkey didn't fuck with that mommy shit but yall hoes got me gagged so i just had to im looking at you rose.

my ex chris had just came over uninvited, he always does this asking me for thing material things that is but this time he was asking for me. so i planned to be what he needed but he was going to have to ask way nicer than he did.

"c'mon chris i know you can ask way better than that" i teased pulling up a chair infront of his sat body on the bed. i was making him do this because when we were together he'd normally boss me around in the bedroom and now it's my turn, i just know he's dreading it too thats what makes this more fun for me.

"can you touch me" he asked i raised my brows and made a hand gesture for him to go on "please" he whined. "of course i can" i said with a sarcastic smile

i pulled his sweats down to see his aching hard dick spring free "no underwear? almost like you knew this was gonna happen" ,,no, but i sure was hoping" he said, eliciting a chuckle from me. i grab his cock and wrap my lips around his tip, "oh fuck-" he moaned loudly. his hand goes to my hair and pushed my head down more, i gag a bit and swat his hand away pulling off.

"you want me to stop?" he shakes his head rapidly "thought so" instead of putting my mouth on his dick again i stroke him with my hand. a strangled whimper leaves his mouth "gonna make me feel bad if you don't speak" i cooed "wanna hear that pretty voice"

"don't stop" his hip thrusted into my hand so i stopped "no- keep going. I'm sorry, I'll be good" he whined screwing his eyes shut.

"that's right" i put a firm grip on his erected cock pumping up and down at a faster pace then before. wet lewd sounds and his little whimpers and moans here and there was the all i heard besides us two talking.

"feels so good m-" he cut himself off biting his lip to keep himself from talking "go on finish your sentence" i said in a low tone encouraging him to finish his sentence. "I'm not saying that" just as i got at nice pace his cock twitched in my hand i threatened to stop "you do wanna be a good boy f'me right?" i said he nodded "yes, please- mommy" it was like he chocked up the words 'mommy' it did little to shock me and only turned me on more. "i wanna be your good boy" he mewled.

his orgasm soon washed over him. the warm, white sticky cum oozed onto my hand. i stroke him slowly, riding his orgasm out. "that wasn't good was it?" i pouted "wha-" he winces at the contact my hand made with his length. i lick all the cum that leaked on his dick, he was a moaning mess. "you came without my permission that wasn't very nice"

"give mommy another orgasm hm?" i kitten lick his tip before wrapping my mouth around his cock and bobbing my head up and down "mm- feels so good" he babbled. he laid back and let his elbows help prop himself up, he rutted his hips fucking my mouth, making me gag. i pull my mouth off him again to speak "you wanna come?"

"mhm please- can i come for you" i nod wrapping my hands around him running my finger over his tip i slowly but aggressively pump in an up and down motion "m' so close" he moaned out. i put my mouth at the head of his dick, it still glistening from his last orgasm. his warm load soon painted my throat, i swallow everything and wipe the mess around my mouth.

"you did such a good job for me" i praised "lemme go get a towel to clean you up" he just nodded and thats all i needed from him to know it was okay to go get a towel. i came back with the cloth to clean him up and he hissed at the touch and held my wrist "no- please" ,,im just trying to clean you baby" he let go of my wrist allowing me to finish. i went to go put the towel away and when i came back he had already pulled his pants back up and sat up

"can i stay" chris asked, i took a moment to think. he was my ex after all but it didn't end on real bad terms i just wasn't ready for anything serious yet so i broke up with him. "I'd be happy if you did" a smile spreaded across his face, he got under the blankets and left them open for me to get in too.

a/n: please tell me i did a good job 😣 i don't really right sub chris or matt

[saintship]

humbly would like to request konig seeing s/h scars on his s/o for the first time :’)

fun fact i got dumped one time over em one time, my ex saw em on my thigh and was like “yeah no”

First of all I’m hunting this fucker down, what the hell??

People who get stranger’s IP’s do your shit

I’m so sorry that happened to you, that little boy did not deserve you, I hope you enjoy<3

SIDE NOTE I saw a headcanon on tiktok saying “König is NOT shy” And I kinda loved that so I tried to explore it a bit

Warnings: S/H scars, revealing of traumatic events

König x Reader

Outer Patrol

Of all the assignment you cycled through, outer patrol was the easiest on the eyes. The forest surrounding the base consisted of thin birch trees packed together, so that slivers of sunlight would reach through and grace the east grounds. Your favorite was the early morning outer patrol with König—he shared your fascination with the forest, and slung a loose arm around you when it had been truly freezing last winter.

Now, in the warmth of July, the sun casted its light aggressively through the gaps of branches and leaves, the humid air clouding your thoughts.

The sticks and leaves crumpled under both of your boots, König bringing up the rear on the narrow path.

“Do you think there are bears out here?” You murmur, looking carefully through the gaps of the trees.

“Nein. We make too much noise..” König pointed out. The camp certainly made itself known during artillery drills.

You hum, letting the air settle in silence again. Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks, causing König to nearly topple you over.

“Hey!”

“Sh!” You hold up a gloved hand, staying as still as possible. Slowly, you lifted the other to point ahead of you, where a fox pawed at the ground, investigating the lush grass.

“That’s not a bear.” König’s whisper nearly made you laugh, but you swatted his shoulder instead, smiling.

“He’s so cute..” you whisper. The fox lifted its head, spotting the two of you and bounding away quickly.

“I guess it’s not too loud for him.” You turn around and walk backwards to face your partner as the path widens ahead.

“Maybe we’ll see kits in the spring.” König said softly.

“Aw..” You cooed at the thought, smiling.

The path continued, but there was a faint fork that led off to the right.

“Have you seen this?”

König shook his head.

You pushed back a branch, stepping through the threshold. The path was littered with overgrown ferns, bushes, and a few fallen logs you had to vault over. Finally, the path opened to a clearing, where a small stream expanded into a large pond nestled underneath a trickling waterfall. The rocky ledge slanted down, the falling water sparkling beneath the late morning sunshine.

“Oh..my god..” you breathed. You turned to see König’s reaction; he was transfixed on the water, his eyes shining under the dark paint and hood.

“This is insane..” you knelt by the water, removing a glove to feel the temperature. “Not bad. I bet people used to swim here.”

Suddenly, König’s pager buzzed, and he was broken from his trance to retrieve the device from his hip.

“König, outer patrol..” He greeted.

“Price is tellin’ me to inform everyone off base to not come back until the afternoon; apparently we’ve got more people than we’re supposed to have on the property, and the hounds are here earlier than he thought.”

Simon’s voice rang gruffly through the transmitter, sounding irritated.

“So just don’t come back for a few hours, yeah?”

“Ja.” König replied.

“Thanks, Ghost!” You called from where you knelt at the water.

“Whatever.” The line clicked, leaving them alone with the sound of running water again.

“Well, we couldn’t have been in a luckier spot to stay put.” You stated, pulling off your backpack. You set down your gun next to it and hugged your knees, watching the water.

“That is true.” König conceded. He shed the bulk of his gear, along with his weapon, but remained standing, wandering along the shoreline. He knelt for a moment, seemingly inspecting something, before standing again and tossing a stone sideways, the rock skidding a total of four times before plunging into the water.

“Woah!” You got to your feet, walking over to him. “You could go Olympic..” You found a stone that seemed thin enough, turning it over in your ungloved hand.

“Just turn your hips. Put your soul into it.” König instructed, enacting his ridiculous stone-skipping stance. You laughed a bit, but followed his direction, skipping the rock twice.

“Ha!” You threw your arms up, connecting your hands with König’s for a double high five.

“Not bad..” He chided.

The sun rose in the sky over the next hour, you and König perfectly content with skipping rocks, wrestling, and splashing each other. All the movement combined with the beating sun made for a layer of sweat underneath your uniform.

“Wish we could swim; I’m melting..” you laid on your back dramatically, feeling the warm stones through your shirt.

“Why not?”

“Because, we have work, and someone might- hey!” You sat up, gaping as König lifted his shirt. He was careful to keep his hood on, but dared to strip of his pants, boots and socks.

“What are you doing?” You couldn’t help but smile at his tenacity.

“Just to my waist!” König gestured to his bare torso, his black briefs and hood being the only fabric left on him. You watched as he waded in, the muscles of his back enough to have a warmth climb your neck. You look away, feeling uncertain about ogling your coworker.

“It’s so nice!”

You turned back to see him hip-deep, running his hands back and forth along the surface. The definition of his chest and shoulders was criminal, accentuated by the patterns of light reflecting off the water’s surface.

“Come on!”

“No way!” You grinned, trying to hide the sense of dread the idea brought onto your mind.

“I am willing to use force!”

“Oh, god..” you sighed, removing your boots and socks. You waded to your shins, rolling up your pants so they didn’t get wet. The water was cool, washing away the sweat prickling on your legs. “Happy?”

“I don’t think so..” He sang, wading back to the shore. The water cascaded down his lower stomach, along his thighs. You found yourself furiously studying the pebbles at your feet, rendering you unaware of König’s attack.

He lifted you from the water with damp hands, ready to drop you in the further depths. You yelped, laughing but terrified of coming back with a soaked uniform.

“Alright! Alright!” You shouted. “I’ll get in, crazy!”

A gentle laugh rumbled from his chest, which sounded right by your ear as he set you down. You had felt the muscle of his chest through just a layer of fabric; the thought enough for you to avoid his eyes.

With all the laughter, you almost forgot the reason you didn’t want to undress in the first place. While König returned into the water, you pulled off your shirt, your sports bra being the only covering for your chest. The high-waisted underwear that you wore so your belt didn’t dig dents into your skin acted as bottoms, but you were hesitant to remove your pants. König noticed your labored breathing, returning to your side again.

“You don’t have to..if you really don’t want to.” He said gently, holding out a surrendering hand.

“No, it’s not..I just..” you sighed, irritated, and sat down in the sand.

“Is there something bothering you?” König’s gentle question shouldn’t have made you shrink the way it did.

“I’m sorry I pressured you, I didn’t-"

“König, it’s not your fault.” Your words escaped a bit snappier than usual, your shame building into frustration. “It’s..there are parts of myself you haven’t seen. Things that might upset you.”

König continued to look in your eyes, his concern drifting to confusion.

“There is nothing I would hold against you..” he assured. “If you want to do this, you shouldn’t hold yourself back, it’s alright.”

His words grounded you. He was right; a bodily feature is not grounds for hiding yourself away for the rest of your life when you don’t want to.

You nod, finding it easier to just get to it. Your belt came off first, the sound of the sliding leather deafening in the air of trickling water and chittering birds. Sliding your pants down your legs, the scars stretching over your thighs seemed especially defined under the sunlight. You discarded your pants, resisting the urge to cover yourself. You heard an intake of breath from König; a noise of realization.

“That is why you didn’t want to?” He asked gently.

“Scars like these don’t sit well with most people.” You murmur. Standing, you wade fully into the water, letting the water come up to your shoulders. König followed quietly, the same depth with his height letting the water only reach his sternum.

“I don’t think of you differently.” He admitted softly. “I’m honored you trust me to share something like that..I believe you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

You study his eyes for a moment, the water around you soothing your worries. “Really?”

König nodded, then let the silence stretch its legs between the two of you for a moment.

“Do you wanna go under the waterfall?” König asked.

You smiled. “Your hood will get wet..”

He hummed in realization. “I suppose you’ll have to go under for two?”

You laugh gently, swimming toward the waterfall with a splash at his chest. The water fell gently, soaking your hair and cooling your scalp.

“That’s nice..” you murmured, your eyes closed. “They’re totally going to know..”

Opening your eyes, you spot König already looking your way. The water is deep enough here that the edge seams of his hood are dipping into the water.

“I think it was worth it..”

You know he doesn’t mean it was worth it to escape the heat. Or threaten to dunk you underwater, or watch you tilt your head back under a glittering waterfall. You’d admitted something raw—deeply personal. There was a tie that bound you now, separate from that military based trust that everyone shared. With the others, you’d devoted the sacrifice of your body; your role in the fight. But to one Colonel, you had devoted your mind.

[chrissturnsw1fe]

Extra credit

Matt Sturniolo

A/n : this is for the nerd Matt girls yall

Summary: you’re a popular girl but also not the smartest so you have to be tutored by Matt and he teaches you so you give him something in return.

Warnings: head , male!/receiving

You were sat in your teachers office listening to her explain about how this boy Matthew was going to tutor you for the next few weeks to get your grades back up. I was kinda pissed off I didn’t think my grades were that bad to make me need a tutor

“Do I really need a tutor” I ask sighing at my teacher she replies with “yes y/n your grades are slipping bad if this carries on how are you going to get a job in the future oh look here’s Matthew” I turn over and see Matt standing timidly at the door , slowly walking over.

He take a seat next to me as the teacher says her last words “right you two can sort something out I need to go pick up my kids have a good night” we say bye to her and watch her pick up her things and leave.

“So uhh” Matt starts but I cut him off “do you wanna give me your number or something and you can come over to my house later” I smile kindly as I take out my phone for Matt to put his number in, once he’s done he hands me my phone back and I save him name as ‘Matthew🤓💛’.

“I’ll message you the be at mine for around 6:30” I walk away.

When I arrive home I decided to go in the shower since I still had 30 minutes till Matt came over before I get in the shower I message Matt the address.

As I was showering I didn’t realise that I had been in the shower longer that 30 minutes and when I came out in my towel I see Matt sitting on my bed.

He jumps at the sight of me in just a towel and he feels his below harden at the sight “how did you get in” I question “I um I uh ur mom she um let me in” Matt stutters “relax no need to be scared suprised you haven’t seen a girl in a towel before your kinda cute” I smirk “well stop staring turn around while I get changed” I giggle as Matt quickly turns around.

Once I’m changed I tell Matt and he turns round. He says that we can start on physics so I get my physics book out and sit next to Matt fairly close.

Matt explains everything I nod my head along as he explains as we work together through the work I’m very proud of what I’ve done.

Around 2 hours later we finish up , I look up at him “want anything in return for this you are a pretty good tutor” I smirk “huh what like” he replies “oh you know nothing much either a handy or blowjob or something” I look at Matt as his face turns a deep shade of red, “what you never had anyone touch you before” I gaze at him.

“N-n-o I haven’t” I look at him in shock “I can be the first if your down I meannnn you are pretty cute and you seem like a really sweet guy” I straddle his lap for the last part of my sentence, matts face went bright red as he nodded slowly.

“I want words baby” I trace a line with my finger tips around his chest and he takes a deep breath in, “gosh yes please I need you please touch me”. I place my lips on his and slowly move with the kiss Matt lets out a soft hum into the kiss, I deepen it and place my hand around his neck.

I pull away from the kiss and slowly move down his body lifting his shirt off kiss under neath until I got to the waist band of his jeans I feel matts hard on against my chest I tug at his belt “is it okay if I take this off” he nods “words Matthew or I’ll make sure you get left with this hard on” Matt looks down at me with begging eyes “please don’t you can take them off holy fuckkk” I smirk at Matt taking off his belt teasingly , the way he squirmed underneath me make me smirk.

As I pull his pants down he bucks his hips up for some sort of friction, I take of his boxers and see his erection spring out and hits his stomach , my jaw drops Matt looks at me worried “what , what is it is something wrong” I glance up at him “Matt your huge like really big” Matt smiles as his worries go away , I lick a strip up his length and he lets out a low breath.

I take his full length in my mouth and he lets out a strangled moan I used my hands to jerk off what couldn’t fit in my mouth “y/nnn fuckk I’m gonna” he bucked his hips making his tip touch the back of my throat causing me to gag alittle “y/n holy shiiii” with his last words he let out a moan and I felt the warm liquid hit the back of my throat as I swallowed it.

“You did so good” I say placing a gentle kiss on his lips “maybe I should teach you how to do these things you just seem so cute and innocent I love it” Matt blushes as he nods his head in agreement still in abit of shock from what happened he just got head from the most popular girl in school….

[theostrophywife]

here with a fluffy request :D i ask only for eris or cassian fluff. maybe aftercare. maybe just a sweet romantic moment. idk, its up to you!! but soft kisses are a must tho because that sounds adorable rn lol

your writing is amazing btw. i find myself constantly going back to reread it!

cotton candy kisses.

author’s note: you are too sweet 🥹 here's some baby boy cassian. (and maybe something for eris in a separate post what? who said that)

“does that feel good, baby?”

you sighed softly, nodding in appreciation as cassian massaged your scalp. the rose scented shampoo soothed your nerves as did your mate’s fingers which felt heavenly in your hair. the warm bath water licked at your skin, making you flush and sleepy. with half-closed lids, you hummed in appreciation and leaned into your mate's touch.

“your hands are magic, cas.”

cassian chuckled as you leaned back into him, his strong, muscled chest a solid plane behind you. you kissed the top of his knee as he cradled you between his thighs. he took great care and handled you gently, working out the kinks in your shoulders and rubbing soap over your aching muscles. it was such a stark contrast from your earlier activities in the bedroom when you both practically tore each other’s clothes off and pushed your bodies to the limit.

“you deserve it, sweetheart. that was a workout back there. i was afraid that we’d broken the mattress. again.”

you chuckled. “you do love to put that headboard through hell.”

your mate grinned. “don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

“i do,” you said with a grin, “but not as much as i love you.”

cassian kissed your cheek. “i love you too, peach.”

you reached up to weave your fingers together. “will you give me a bun? like yours?” turning to your side, you beamed and poked cassian’s signature half bun. “i wanna match.”

the smile that bloomed on cassian’s face took your breath away. despite being mated for decades, you never really grew accustomed to how beautiful he was. every line and curve of his face was ingrained in your memory, the stunning color of his eyes, chocolate brown with mossy green and flecks of gold marked your soul, and the scar through his right brow was a landmark that denoted home.

there was a warmth to him, sometimes it was the burning flame of passion and other times, in moments like these, he was the cozy heat emanating from an ever trusty hearth. it was in the gentle way he gathered your hair, trailing soft kisses along your jaw and temple as he tied your curls back.

cassian turned you around to admire his work. “i think you pull off the bun better than i do, peach.”

“never,” you said, crawling into his lap. soap suds slicked skin brushed against you as you wrapped your arms around cassian's neck. “i could never be as cute as you, baby.”

your mate chuckled as he pulled you into his arms. he nuzzled his nose against yours and showered you with tiny kisses. “yeah? you think i’m cute?”

“mhm,” you murmured, twirling a strand of his silky raven hair as you tugged him down to you. “you’ve got a cute bun. and a cute face. and the cutest ass.”

cassian chuckled and tilted your chin up, his lips meeting yours perfectly. he lavished you with cotton candy kisses, soft and sweet and slow. the two of you took your time, kissing like it was the first time. kissing like you were still shy teenagers in the throes of puppy love. your fingers in his hair, his hands on your hips, lips velvet and plush and oh so intoxicating.

you moaned softly as his tongue brushed gently along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. like a flower in spring, you bloomed for cassian. your skin tingled as you kissed and kissed until your lips were swollen. still, it never felt like enough.

gods, you could’ve kissed him forever.

“my sweet peach,” cassian whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. you nipped at his bottom lip, savoring the taste of him. his kisses were intoxicating. you wanted to drown in it. in him.

“hmm,” you sighed dreamily. “more kisses, please. i wanna feel your lips on mine, cas. always.”

your mate kissed you once, twice, three times. "all my kisses are for you, peach. always."

[roosterforme]

Old Habits Die Hard Part 14 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You tell Bradley the truth about the photos he finds on his phone, and it leaves both of you feeling more possessive than you ought to. 

Warnings: Angst, swears, smut and fluff

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

Check out my masterlist

The week of spring break was like a dream. By Friday evening, you had watched so many movies together, you lost count. Movie watching usually turned into kissing, which then led to making out. Bradley was the best snuggler you had ever known, and you really felt like you didn't even want to go back to class.

"Only six more weeks until we graduate," Bradley whispered when you brought it up. "I'm getting nervous."

You spun around in his arms until you were facing him in his bed. "About what?" The glow of his desk lamp brought out a honey color in his brown eyes, and you couldn't help but smile at him.

"Getting my acceptance letter."

"You told me you needed to have your final grades submitted," you said, still smiling. "That won't be until the week before graduation."

Bradley shrugged. "It's just a formality. If you show high enough grades through the first semester of your senior year, they usually accept you before then."

You watched as his eyes darted nervously around your face. "Oh. But your grades are great, right?"

"Yeah. It's not that...." He was pulling you tighter against him as he added, "I'm nervous he's going to block it again."

"Oh." You didn't know what to say. The navy was his dream. If someone tried to take it away from him twice, you didn't know what he was going to do. "He wouldn't do that. I hope."

Bradley's laugh was dark as you wrapped your arms around him. "At least I have you, Sugar."

You didn't dare move, knowing he needed this comfort right now. Just when you thought maybe he had fallen asleep, you felt his lips moving against your neck. "We have one more condom left."

You laughed. "How are we going to entertain ourselves after that?" 

But you were falling in love with him, especially after this week. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when it started, but it was probably in the Beta house kitchen. The very first time you ever called him Beer Boy.

"I hope you're joking, Sugar. First of all, sleeping with you is not the only thing that I want to do with you. Because second of all, I have 18 hours of Grateful Dead concert footage that we can watch together. Correction...that we will watch together."

You pretended to groan and hide your face from him. Honestly, you'd watch as many hours of whatever he wanted with him. "I have an idea for the last condom though," you whispered. 

"Tell me."

"Your door."

Bradley pulled you on top of him and started to undress you. "Love that idea. You're so fucking smart."

"Make me dumb."

So he did. He got you naked on his bed, and put his mouth everywhere. You were barely coherent when he started licking your pussy and murmuring about you being the dumbest girl he ever met. You wanted to take offense, but you were flushed and whining, so turned on knowing he made you this way. You wouldn't have been able to dispute it if you tried. 

"Come on, Sugar. Let's go get a closer look at my door."

Bradley scooped you up and absolutely hauled you to his bedroom door. He set your feet on the hallway floor and then closed it, before pushing you back against the wood. 

"Still just your name," he grunted, wedging you in place with his hip, while he rolled on that last condom. "I know you told me to paint over it, Sugar, but I was never going to. Not even if you told me you never wanted to talk to me again."

"Bradley," you whined as he pressed the front of his body against yours, breathing in the same air as you. His hot breath huffed against your cheek as he hoisted your leg over his hip.

You glanced up and over your shoulder to see your own phone number there next to the little collection of hearts he had drawn. You knew he hadn't painted it. You had been admiring it again ever since he became your boyfriend. But you never got tired of hearing him tell you that.

"You never wanted me to paint over it, did you?" he asked, pressing himself to your opening. "Tell me the truth."

"Bradley!" He was teasing you now, and you just wanted him inside.

"Tell me, Sugar."

You reached for his shoulders, trying to force him to move, but he grabbed you by your arms and pinned you in place, your foot barely touching the floor. 

"I didn't want you to paint it! Of course I didn't want you to! Now will you please fuck me?"

"That's all you had to say, smart girl." 

Your butt bumped back against the door as he slid inside you, his hips meeting yours in such a familiar way. He was sucking so hard on your neck, it stung; he was marking you up like he had in the library. He was going to make you cum for him just like he always did.  

You threaded your fingers clumsily through his hair, and he let you tip his head back so he was looking at you. 

"I love this," he murmured, and you immediately guided his lips to yours and kept them there until you both came. 

Spring Break had been the best week of your life.

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

The following week, it was back to class and back to the study room. Bradley held you on his lap, trying his best not to be too much of a distraction for you. But he couldn't help it. The weather was starting to feel like springtime, and he wanted to be outside with you. 

"Do you really need to study? Does it even matter now?" 

With a laugh on your lips, you turned in his lap to face him. "Yes, and you do too, Beer Boy. We can have fun at the parties this weekend."

But he just pouted at you and ran his hand over your jeans. "There are no parties this weekend."

"Why not?" you asked softly, running your fingers along his lips until he smiled. 

Bradley slowly, coaxingly guided you until you were straddling his lap. He nipped at the faded love bite on your neck, as he said, "The following weekend is Tyson's birthday rager. Can't blow our beer budget."

You giggled as he held you close. "Beer budget? For the shitty kegs or the good beer?"

"Shitty kegs. Since you're my girlfriend, Sugar, party rules do not apply to you. Nothing in the kitchen is off limits. Didn't I tell you that?"

Your smile was so bright as you leaned in to kiss him, Bradley could feel his own face light up. 

"You gave me the good beers the night we met. And you never told me anything in the kitchen was ever off limits to me."

Bradley kissed your lips and guided your hips closer to his. "I didn't? I guess I must have known right away."

"Known what?" you gasped as he let his hand slide up your top.

"That I would figure out a way to make you mine."

You sighed against his lips, and it was the best feeling in the world. "You're smooth, Beer Boy."

Then the alarm went off on your phone, and you jolted right off of his lap. Bradley was left grasping at air with a semi hard cock. 

"Sugar, come back."

"I have lab now. I had to start setting alarms, because you've been making me late for class."

Bradley eased himself to his feet and adjusted himself. "I'll walk you to your lab." 

He took pride in the fact that he was allowed to drape his arm across your shoulders and stroll across campus with you. He didn't get as many looks these days. He didn't get as many girls coming up to him asking where he's been or if he would be partying all weekend. And he took pride in that too. He was proud to be around you, but he was mostly proud of himself.

"You staying over tonight?" he asked as you kissed his cheek in the hallway outside of your class. 

"Walk over to my apartment and get me later, Beer Boy."

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

Bradley was walking home and looking for a picture of him with his mom on his phone when he found them. There was a set of photos that you had apparently taken of the two of you making out in the kitchen during spring break. He stopped in his tracks, with several other students hustling around him and making a fuss about him blocking the walkway. 

"Holy shit," he whispered with a smile on his face. You had taken one where he was untying your bathing suit and rubbing your tits with his thumb while he kissed you. It wasn't exactly the most pornographic thing he had ever seen, but it was you and him together. Bradley could definitely spend some time getting off to these. Starting as soon as he got back to the house.

He was trying to figure out why you had taken these pictures in the kitchen, but he really hoped you were trying to leave a little treat for him to find. 

And later that night, when you called and asked him to come get you at your place, he had the dirtiest of the photos pulled up on his phone screen as soon as you opened your door.

"What did I do to deserve these?" he asked with a grin. Then he watched your smile fade into a look of panic. 

"Shit," you gasped, trying to reach for his phone, but he kept it out of your grasp.

"If you were thinking about deleting them, don't you dare, Sugar! I just jerked off to one of them. I'm keeping them forever."

Your eyes went wide as you pulled him inside your apartment. "You really did?"

"Of course. I guess you didn't take them as a treat for me? Why do you look so upset?"

You pressed your lips together and looked up at him. "I really meant to delete them. And I'm sorry if I overstepped, but she's horrible and she had it coming!"

Bradley was thoroughly confused now. "Who?"

"Phoebe!" you groaned, tossing your hands in the air before letting them fall to your sides. "When you were making us the s'mores, in your kitchen? She texted you a dirty photo of herself." 

His eyes went wide as he felt sick to his stomach. "Sugar, I haven't talked to her. I swear! I haven't seen her. I deleted her number."

He was reaching for you now, but you were already in his arms.

"I know, Bradley. I believe you. And I believed you when you were making the s'mores." You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he rested his forehead against yours as you said, "But then I took the pictures of me and you out of spite. Because I wanted to make her feel bad. I wanted to throw it in her face that I'm with you and she's not. I'm sorry." Your voice broke on the last word, and you sounded like you were about to cry as you added, "I would never want to make you feel cheap."

Your words felt like they were melting over his skin. No one had ever been concerned about hurting his feelings before. You always made him feel good, and right now was no exception. You just made him feel like he was worth holding on to, like he was worth defending.

"I'm yours, Sugar. I'm not hers."

"You're not mad?" You looked so surprised, and your grip around his neck and shoulders was still relentless.

He couldn't help but smirk at you. "I'm not mad. You feeling a little possessive, maybe?"

Bradley watched your lips part slightly as you ran your fingertips along his scars. "Yeah, a little bit."

He nodded solemnly. "You should be. Ask me how many other girls get the good beers from me."

"How many?" you whispered, your eyes drifting closed as you kissed his lips. 

"None. Ask me how many girls have borrowed my clothes."

"How many, Beer Boy?"

"Just you." Bradley held you close and let you touch him everywhere.

"Not Phoebe?"

"Hell, no. Just you. All the sleepovers and spring break week? Just you, Sugar."

He felt your tongue dart out to taste his neck and moaned softly. Then you said, "That's good, because I'm actually feeling very possessive."

Bradley was a mess as you took him by the hand, and led him across campus to his fraternity house, your fingers laced through his. He felt possessive of you, too. He should have known, just based on that feeling, that Jeff would be hanging around the house tonight. 

"Try not to be alone with him," Bradley told you, leading you past everyone in the living room until you reached the kitchen. "We can hang out with Tyson and Janessa, or we can chill in my room. Just don't let Jeff get to you."

You rolled your eyes. "No sweat, Beer Boy. What's he going to say to me that I can't handle?"

"Nothing, because you're exceptional," he said, rooting around in the refrigerator. "Here, Sugar, have a good beer."

So when the two of you had drank a few beers, and the rest of the Beta guys were starting to get a little rowdy even though this wasn't a formal party, Bradley pulled you close to him. But you took that as your cue to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. 

"Hi, Beer Boy," you muttered between kisses, your lips meeting his again. Bradley let you push your hands up into his hair and rub yourself slowly against him. But everything else with you was too sacred, so he was just about to suggest you head upstairs when he heard Jeff's voice through his love haze.

"Good luck not getting syphilis from Bradshaw." He was just loud enough for you and Bradley to be able to hear him, but he could still totally try to play off that he was innocent and chill all night. 

Bradley felt his fist clench at your waist, but you just rolled your eyes and casually shouted over your shoulder, "Good luck finding a girl you can satisfy with what is likely a very small penis. You have small dick energy, Jeff."

Janessa snorted and choked on her drink. Tyson was glancing back and forth, looking like he was ready to step in if needed, but Jeff just narrowed his eyes and called you a bitch. 

"Takes one to know one, Jeff. Have fun graduating behind me." Then you turned your attention back to Bradley and said, "Let's go upstairs and snuggle."

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

The party preparations took all week. Tyson's twenty second birthday party was going to be an absolute rager. Since Jeff had been keeping a low profile the past few days, Bradley volunteered to pick up the kegs with Dev. As he hauled the kegs to the back of Dev's car, Bradley thought about the upcoming party. He knew Phoebe wouldn't miss it, but he was only looking forward to being with you.

And with only one more month until graduation, he wanted to make the most of his time. Bradley knew you were planning on visiting the University of Chicago for a few days at the end of April; you needed to meet your new advisor and find somewhere to live. It was killing him to know that you'd be halfway across the country if he was accepted into flight training. It was even scarier to think about having to look for another job if he wasn't.

"One more keg, before we run out of money," Dev informed it, and Bradley carried the last one out to the car.

"Too bad we can't buy anything shittier than this," he said, patting the keg with his hand. 

Dev laughed. "Right? It's not like we have to drink it."

"This party's gonna be huge though."

"So many fucking chicks," Dev remarked as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

Bradley just grunted in response and checked his phone to see if you texted him. 

"I can't believe you, of all people have a girlfriend, Bradshaw. And senior year, no less."

"She's different, man. She's better." Bradley also wanted to add that he was different now too, but he thought that Dev didn't really need to know about that. 

"Yeah, well, nobody blames you, because she's also hot. And I fully support it, because it pisses Jeff off."

Bradley just shook his head and laughed. "I'd be lying if I said that wasn't an added perk."

Once the kegs were on ice and the party was about to start, Bradley checked his mail for the nonexistent letter from the US Navy and quickly cleaned up his room. He was planning on sleeping in with you tomorrow and watching some of his Grateful Dead concert DVD with you wrapped up in his arms. He was planning on never letting you change out of his shirt, because you looked so perfect in it. 

And that's how you showed up to Tyson's party with Janessa, wearing his tie dyed shirt with the bottom knotted, showing off some of your soft skin. Bradley was convinced that between your short shorts and the cropped shirt, you probably weren't wearing any underwear. A smile played on his lips as you tucked yourself against his side and hugged him around the waist.

"You ready for this party, Beer Boy?"

"I'm ready to spend the night with you."

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

These two are falling. Thanks a million times to @mak-32 for being amazing and helping so much with this story.

PART 15

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[bellewintersroe]

Band of brothers headcanons, how they react to accidentally upsetting you.

I just felt like writing something a little angsty because who doesn’t love that 😈

Eugene Roe:

This mf would be so confused, hear me out ok.

he’s so so smart and kind and caring, legit perfect, but humans do make mistakes! So in Gene’s case I feel like he maybe doesn’t understand why you may be frustrated/ hurt in a specific scenario.

“but I don’t understand, you said it was fine, like two secundz ago.” The boy is DUMBFOUNDED and then because you’re so frustrated and probably just tired for one reason or another, you burst into tears.

genes eyes widen and then he realised he’s probably messed up by not at least trying to understand.

ahhhh he’d spring off his feet, and kinda dither in front of you, a little confused. He’d be SO apologetic and his hands would kinda smooth over your hair, fixing it from where you’d messed it up slightly.

Gene would kinda click that he made you upset pretty quickly, so I think he’d be prepared to do anything he can to make you feel better as soon as possible. Lewis Nixon:

I feel like with Lewis his drinking settles massive when he meets you, he’s happy and doesn’t need alcohol as an outlet.

But maybe in the early days of your relationship, like you’re in Austria or somewhere, he gets a little too drunk and it completely ruins the plan you put so much effort in for you both.

the morning after is when I think Lewis knows he’s fucked up. He’d spring out of his bed, no hangover could set him back, and he’s hurrying to find you immediately.

turns up at your door all dishevelled and your friend is like ‘no you’re not speaking to her’ but with some pleading it works. She’s ballsy, because he is her superior after all.

apologises like crazy, asks what he can do to fix it? I think he’d genuinely feel such a strong sense of guilt, that whatever he did won’t ever happen again because the sad little look on your face sticks with him for a longggg time.

Babe Heffron:

“Babe, I think you upset her…”

“Wha’? What’d I do?!” Kinda baffled ngl, but either way all he cares about is that you’re upset. I think it would when the two of you were still friends, and he friend zoned you HARD after months of flirting and showing interest. Obviously he doesn’t mean to do this because you’re beautiful and so perfect, and he’s kinda in love with you.

chases after you down the street, well not literally, but he wants to see if you’re okay.

he’s so cute, and you’re so nervous to admit why it upset you, so he kinda takes a good few minutes just putting the pieces together until he’s like. “Oh… OH! You mean? You mean that ya’ upset because ya’ thought I only saw you as just a friend?!”

he’s in awe that you have the same feelings, he’s truly blind to it, but feels bad after because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He just honestly thought there wasn’t a chance on earth than you’d feel the same.

Joe Liebgott:

Probably says something in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t mean.

Panic immediately after when he realises what he actually said. But you’re so pissed off you just snap right back at him and storm off, getting the space you need.

now Joe can be rash in the heat of the moment, but he isn’t a fool, nor is he mean spirited or nasty. He genuinely cares about you, he hates that he said something just outta pure anger.

you bet he’d be lingering outside your bedroom door, sighing dramatically and knocking as he anxiously awaits your response.

cuddles you like crazy, apologises pretty soon, especially if the argument has cooled down. He’d make it up for you by taking you on a long drive in his cab, buys you flowers, anything you want because you’re his girl and you deserve it.

although Joe can be quite rash, he is a huge softie, so I don’t think it’s EVER a common occurrence when he says something hurtful to you. It’s probably a one off? People always make mistakes, Joe doesn’t take that lightly on himself however.

super gentle with you afterwards, wishes he could truly take his words back. Vows to never upset you like that ever again, and you best believe he sticks to it.

George Luz:

I feel like it would be a joke taken a little too far by accident.

he’d find you crying and he panics omg he’s like “what?! No, no, what’s wrong?!”

Then you’d be all like “is that what you think of me?!” And it takes a moment to click in his mind when he’s like- “oh SHIT!”

panics that he upset you, he’s upset himself for making you feel that way.

but he’s just a big ball of love and reassurance, you know from how genuinely serious he is that he didn’t mean to upset you.

maybe tries to crack another joke after, but this time it’s actually funny.

Ron Speirs:

Ron is a clever man, he really understands your emotions and what hurts them.

so when you’re upset in front of a group of people, Ron has no choice but to remain professional, no matter how much it hurts.

kinda can’t do anything other than just stare at you hoping you’re getting the message. He’s all wide eyed and flustered and wants to move on from whatever they’re all doing so he can attend to you.

it probably eats him up all day after that, more than it does you.

no matter how much you understand why he must act like that, it still stung just a tincy, tiny bit.

ron needs you alone. When he finds you he’s wrapping his arms around you immediately. I don’t think he’d be the best with expressing his emotions sometimes, so he’d mutter apologies into your ear, holding you close so you can’t look back and make eye contact with him.

eye contact would make him nervous- plus why does he kinda feel choked up?!

nah but seriously, Ron would beat himself up for having to act like that around you. He hates it. When he meets you you’ll 1000% see more of an emotional side to what the army does (obviously) so it’s upsetting for him when he can’t freely express himself in front of you.

Bill Guarnere:

“What’d I do?!”

“I think you upset her, Bill…”

“Ahhh, shit…” Bill is DUMBFOUNDED. he has quite a brash sense of humour, especially with his buddies. So when he maybe takes a joke too far in front of them all about you he doesn’t click straight away why you’ve left the table.

like you’d move to sit with some of your other buddies and he’d probably come over with a sigh, sitting down next to you. Lmao I feel like you’d just give him the cold shoulder??

he’s a head strong guy, right, but I think even he’d be a little bit puzzled on what to do. Just watches you in confusion whilst you completely blank him before removing himself from the situation.

probs gives you time and space to cool off before one of his buddies tells him he should get you some flowers or something.

“I ain’t doin’ tha’!”

turns up 30 mins later with a bunch of flowers and lots of hugs and kisses.

[sea-buns]

hey to a gorgug liker what do you think about his nightmare section from sophomore year? cause I feel like the horror there is less “ah my grandparents were racist” and more “fuck am I being a stereotype? are the people who hate me right about me?” cause wrt to his having to modulate between barbarian and artificer in fhjy it’s like. idk

oh boy do I have thoughts

Tbh, I had zero recollection of the racism stuff until reading this. It was just SO MINOR. His trial in the forest felt really lackluster to me. I feel like everyone else's really dug into an issue at the core of their character and his felt more like "everyone is getting a trial, what do we do for gorgug?" And idk if that was just a bad delivery/call on Brennan's part or if it could have been helped by Zac engaging more in it but it just. Didn't feel like anything. It was a lot more about the dice than the horror of the claustrophobia and the bugs and you've never fit in anywhere you live to make yourself smaller wherever you go you're just the loser who hits hard. Like yeah I guess there was an overarching theme of Gorgug gaining confidence in himself but it was done very poorly imo.

And I think his trial in the forest was wrong for putting such an emphasis on his intelligence. I think that would have been much better suited in fy, back when he was still being heavily bullied, but beyond that it felt like a quick and easy thing for them to grab. Yes, he had insecurities about his intelligence with all the complications with Zelda. But, to me, the focus of fhsy was his HEART. It put a spotlight on how his social circle has grown, and his bully is his friend now, and he's not alone anymore. His interactions with Ayda, the friendship book, trying to help Fabian, I believe in you spring break, it's Gorgug keep going. I made a post earlier in the season (including a great addition by another user) that I think articulates that emphasis on his emotional intelligence very well.

Fhjy HOWEVER. I think it's doing everything that sy failed at. It's giving him space to have an inner conflict. It's addressing lots of little issues and conflicts he's had over the campaign and combining them into one coherent piece. Like, guy was in a relationship pretty much all of fy, and then dealt with the fallout in sy, but I don't think we've EVER seen as much quality relationship development with Gorgug as we have in jy. He and Fig spent an entire summer together trapped in a tour bus and no season has indicated that bond and friendship more than this one. He and Riz have found something to bond over, meanwhile in previous seasons there was pretty much zero one-on-one personal interaction between them. Fabian expressed sadness over Gorgug leaving the Owlbears, because it was the only thing they had that was just for them to hang out and be friends.

Just with that, we're already doing leagues more with Gorgug's character than we ever have. And I haven't even STARTED on his barbificier journey, oh dear god lmao.

Gonna preface this bit with a post I made before the season even started. It was about Zac's steady improvement in his performances with every PC, and how I was predicting that it was gonna culminate into a Gorgug that does him the justice he deserves. It was initially supposed to be a criticism, but I got a little lost in the sauce of loving my boy lol. Still very relevant to the topic of this ask!

God, where do I START?? Addressing his relationship with rage? I'll be honest, I didn't think that would ever be used as a character arc. And I'm not even sure why I've felt that way. I just didn't think... I didn't think about how he might've had a dislike for his own rage. Like, the WAY he rages isn't bad by any means, but I don't think it ever crossed my mind how actually harmful his lessons to sing to combat rage were. No, I did not like the way Porter went about teaching him (a bit too unsupportive of his capabilities and reminiscent of shitty teachers for my liking). But his point about EMBRACING anger; that rage is not bad and does not— should not— need to be stifled. THAAAAT. That opened up such an interesting dialogue for Gorgug.

I do appreciate the beginnings of Gorgug's interest in artificing in fhsy. I think the crumbs of it back then did a great job of leading into his larger commitment to multiclassing. And I think what he's been doing with it this season is exactly what was lacking in his section of the nightmare forest. His trial was a puzzle, based entirely on die rolls, where his solution after failing even when he's assisted by the enemy is to essentially give up. I understand that facing their fears was the whole point of the trials, but his section came off as incredibly anticlimactic and unfulfilling. Just the fact that it was a trial based on stat numbers more than the development of the character itself.

Where junior year succeeds in actually showcasing his intelligence and the evolution of the worth he holds in himself is with the hands-on approach it takes. Yes, the academic rolls are still dice and stats, but there's a physical manifestation that wasn't there before. Gorgug is smart when it comes to getting his hands dirty. It is in the practical applications of his skills that his brand of intelligence shines the most.

And while, once again, I did not LIKE Porter's heavy resistance to multiclassing....I have to admit that I don't think Gorgug would have had such a boost in confidence without that struggle. Even if my boy had trouble expressing it to Porter verbally, HE STOOD UP FOR HIMSELF. Instead of simply rolling over and agreeing that he wasn't built for a technical class and it was stupid to try– he was DEFIANT.

The kid who said "I'm a dumbass. Eat me you stupid bug." took on FOUR CLASSES. Three school years worth of artificer simultaneously. AND stayed with the Owlbears. AND went along on party missions to help Kristen's candidacy. AND was always on deck to help the party with the overarching plotline.

AND HE ACED IT!!! THE FIRST BARBIFICER THAT THE AGUEFORT ADVENTURING ACADEMY HAS EVER SEEN!!!!! He is paving the way for every unprecedented multiclass that follows.

Just in comparison to who he was in the previous season, the amount of drive and self-worth he's gained is astounding. In my eyes, it's done more than enough to makeup for the way his development fell flat in sophomore year.

i hope this fulfilled the ask in the way you were hoping! i told you i'd get carried away lmao. writing a bunch about any of zac's characters is always such a joy. gorgug had always been my favorite of the bad kids but i always found myself wishing he went deeper, y'know? and now it's real. my precious anxious boy has been handled so well. and watching zac's growth as a performer has been such a blast.

thanks for the ask! :D

[candycandy00]

Christmas Past - A Gojo x Reader Drabble (with a side of Gojo x Geto)

Just a little Christmas drabble. Gojo x Reader with Gojo x Geto in flashbacks. No Smut! Some angst though.

Basically me venting my complicated feelings on Christmas through fic (I both love Christmas and despise it). Any comments or feedback is greatly appreciated!

When Satoru comes to your apartment one evening he finds you in your living room, decorating an artificial tree with lights and ornaments. He knows what’s approaching, the decorations springing up all over town refusing to let him forget. But somehow he had succeeded in blocking out the exact date from his mind.

Until you beam at him in your cute Christmas sweater and say, “Merry Christmas Eve!” with a giggle. 

Christmas Eve. His least favorite day of the year. Because it’s also an anniversary that he doesn’t want to think about. 

But you wouldn’t know that. Of course you wouldn’t. You’re from a sorcerer branch in the U.S., relocated to Japan only a few months ago. 

So you stand there smiling, Christmas music playing in the background, lighted garland strung around the room. “In America I decorate in November, but I didn’t want to be obnoxious,” you say. He notices a large plastic star in your hands. “Could you put this on top? I can’t reach.”

He takes the star from you and looks down at it. What can he say to his girlfriend? It just doesn’t seem right to blurt out, “Sorry babe but I can’t celebrate your favorite holiday with you because I killed the most important person in the world to me on Christmas Eve.” So instead he says, “Sure,” as he crosses over to the tree and places the star on the top branch, careful to keep it straight. 

He stands back and looks at it, you wrapping an arm around his waist. “Doesn’t it look beautiful?” you ask. 

He smiles down at you. “Nowhere near as beautiful as you.”

“Oh stop,” you say with a laugh, playfully slapping him. Then you take his hand and pull him toward the kitchen. “Come over here.”

You stop in the doorway and look up. He follows you gaze and grins. “Mistletoe?”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m not sure if the tradition is the same here, but when two people are under this, they’re supposed to-“

He suddenly kisses you, right on the lips. It’s a deep and sensual kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck. And he can’t help remembering a different kiss under the mistletoe, at a Christmas party so long ago. 

There were laughing friends and delicious snacks and Jingle Bells playing from someone’s CD player in the empty classroom. The teachers had agreed to let the students use it for their party so long as they cleaned up the mess afterward. Satoru wore a Santa coat open over his school uniform, Suguru wore a headband with antlers attached, lighting up in red and green. Shoko was dressed as an elf and Haibara wore a full reindeer costume. Someone had placed a Santa hat on Nanami, who shockingly had not thrown it off yet. 

“Look up, guys,” Shoko had said, pointing at the ceiling above Satoru and Suguru. Mistletoe was hanging there over their heads. The two of them had acted disgusted but then laughed. And then, on a whim, Satoru pulled his friend closer and kissed him. Shoko laughed, probably assuming they were just goofing off as usual. Haibara whistled loudly. If Nanami had any reaction, Satoru didn’t remember it. 

But he did remember Suguru’s. The other boy kissed him back, deeply, and Satoru had been surprised by how much he liked it. There would be many more kisses to follow. 

Still, that Christmas Eve night with his friends had been so special to Satoru. It was the last Christmas they all spent together. By the following year, one of them was dead and one of them was gone. 

You finally break the kiss, needing to come up for air and wondering why Satoru is so clingy all of a sudden. His hands are clasped behind your back, holding you close as if he might lose you if he lets go. He wouldn’t survive that, he thinks. He couldn’t live through losing the love of his life twice. 

So he grins and jokes through the evening, putting on a Santa hat you gave him, drinking alcohol-free eggnog and singing along to Christmas songs in a loud, intentionally off key voice, all to make you smile. And behind the laughter and the merriment, his heart aches over his final memories with Suguru. Finding his dearest one near death, bleeding out, wanting to help him but knowing he had to finish him off instead… it very nearly killed Satoru. 

You notice something off about his attitude tonight. He’s a little too friendly, a little too cheerful. He’s hiding something. “Are you alright?” you ask him, and the fact that you can peek through his mask makes him love you all the more. 

He puts his arm around you again. “I’ll tell you all about it someday,” he says. “But not tonight. I want to make some happy memories tonight.”

You smile and snuggle closer to his side. “Merry Christmas, Satoru.”

He hugs you tightly, smiling genuinely for the first time tonight. “Merry Christmas.”

[mykoreanlove]

Leave you Loving you

Part 1

___________________________________________________________

You gotta be kidding me!

You woke up restless in a shitty mood, once again. You had not heard from him in days and your anxiety quickly got the best of you.

Did he forget about me? Is he done with me? Is he really not saying anything to me about this?

The doubts grew day by day and you couldn’t shake the yucky feeling that Minho had dumped you. You grabbed your phone and opened the dating app on which you two had met. Shakily, you tapped on his chat and scanned his profile. You noticed it right away – he had updated new photos. Alluring depictions of his beautiful body, like he was ready to be conquered. You felt your chest tighten and gasped for air.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, this cannot be true! Tears already falling from your eyes, you put the phone aside and wondered what the hell was going on.

You thought back to when you had met him for the first time. You went on that app for some fun, knowing damn well that you were not ready for a relationship just yet. You were eager for your first trip to Korea and nothing, especially not a boy, would ruin that experience for you. But having non-committal fun with no strings attached? Hell, yes! Especially, when the fun looked like Minho.

You remembered him texting you first – proposing a loose relationship that was going nowhere since he wasn’t looking for anything serious himself. He was funny, witty and extremely handsome. You liked his duality ranging from serious and severe to playful and goofy. His pictures showed him cuddling his cats, as well as dancing with force and elegance. You remembered praying for him to like you back – which he thankfully did.

You smiled sadly as you thought back at his first interaction with you. He tried to rizz you up by using cringy pick up lines which made you laugh, liking him more immediately.

With sadness in your heart, you thought back to all the dates you had with him, all the time you two had spent together and how special every moment was. Minho made you forget about not wanting something serious, the connection between you two being too special, too strong to ignore.

At least that’s what you had thought. Were you mistaken that badly? Had he played you? Had you been nothing but a nice fuck to him?

You remembered your first date – sharing sweet drinks in a dim lit bar talking about all the shared interests you had. You grew up in the same area and moved to the city once you got sick of a narrow life, you discussed your passion for dance or bonded over your sarcastic sense of humor. He laughed at your jokes, his eyes beaming with desire for you. You bit your lip in anticipation, nervous and shy at the same time. You ended up under your umbrella that night – coyly kissing each other under the warm spring rain, not wanting to let go. Minho chuckled into your ear about how kDrama-esque this whole moment was.

You saw each other again the night after. He invited you over to cook for you, little did he know you planned on being the dessert. You remembered how it felt to kiss him, undress him and let him have his way with you. He knew what he was doing, your body giving into his automatically. Tangled hair, sloppy kisses and eyes filled with lust – you enjoyed every second with him. But you started to really like him in the moments after getting intimate with him. He was holding you in his strong arms, listening to you ramble about your plans of going to Korea, cautiously listening to every word you said. Minho was very attentive to you and your needs – the moment strands of hair fell into your face; he placed them behind your ears, so you were not bothered by them. Or for him to have a better look at your face, you didn’t mind at all. He looked at you with adoration in his brown eyes, making them shine even more.

“I know I might sound crazy, but I need to tell you this. I’ve only known you for a very short time, but I don’t feel like it.” He positioned himself on top of you, his nose touching yours slightly, his lips brushing yours seductively. “Actually, I feel like I’ve known you for a very long time, babygirl. And not only know you, but like like you. A lot.”

He looked into your eyes daringly, hoping to get a reaction out of you. Truth was you felt the same way. But you had learned to play it cool, to not give too much to a man, hence you played it nonchalantly. You smacked your hands on his bare ass and smiled at him. “Lee Know, don’t you dare falling for me!”

You stuck out your tongue and squeezed his firm ass cheeks once more. Minho’s widened eyes turned into crescent moons, as he burrowed his head in the crook of your neck laughing.

Thinking about those moments made your heart ache even more but you were not done with visiting memory lane just yet.

You thought of your third date with him; it was the first night you spent over at his place. Time was limited because of work but you used every minute as if it was the last – kissing, fucking, talking, sleeping, fucking, cuddling, parting ways but this time it was different. This time you started to catch feelings – how could you not? Compliments, confessions, secrets, future plans; Minho was behaving like he caught feelings for you, too.

“I told my friends about you.”

“I haven’t been meeting anybody else. Have you?”

“This week has been stressful as fuck and this evening is the first time that I got time for myself, time to breathe. And I thought of unwinding by myself. But I’d rather spend it with you.” 

Were you foolish to believe that he really liked you, too? Had he been deceiving you that badly? Was he like that with every girl? He couldn’t be, there was just no way that he was lying that painfully. You really felt special to him but now you felt played, used and thrown away like stinky trash.  You wiped away the tears as you thought about the meaningful texts he had sent you.

Now those texts were all that was left of him.

You thought about the last time you saw him. You went over to his place, spontaneously on a Friday night. You had to leave town shortly after for a couple of weeks, hence this would be your last time seeing him for a long time. It irked you. You didn’t want that much space between the two of you. Sometimes, when your anxiety got the best of you, you wondered if it would be all over by then. Would he forget about you? Would he date someone else? Was this too good to be true?

You ignored those feelings for now, but he noticed your changed demeanor. “You seem gloomy, y/n. Are you okay?”

Were you? No. Were you telling him about your fears? Hell no. You forced a smile on your lips and shook your head. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me.” Minho frowned, but let it go. You enjoyed every second of your 4th date as if it was your last one – who would have thought that this was really the case. This time you didn’t spend the night, much so to Minho’s dismay. He ordered you a cab and walked you out, waiting for you to be collected. Even though it was a warm night, it was still chilly, which made you hug him naturally. Minho started to get annoyed because of the delayed cab but stopped when he found you laughing. “Why are you laughing?” You shook your head amused. “Well, we are standing on this empty street, hugging each other while the night sky is clear as day and you can see the stars shining for us brightly. I don’t know about you, but I am thankful that the cab takes a bit longer.” Minho’s features softened and he smiled at you, holding you closer to him. “You really are the neutralizer to my toxic thoughts.” He kissed your nose and hugged you even tighter.

This moment felt perfect. Your head rested against his chest, his scent all over you. You sighed contently as you heard him whisper in your ear: “It’s going to be so hard to not see you for that long. Like, painfully long. But you know what? We’ll text each other every day and send a lot of pictures and before we know it, you’re back – and we’ll be the happiest when we see each other again.”

You often thought about that promise. A promise that he did not keep. You felt him distancing himself, turning away from you. You gave up after initiating the last conversations as you felt too unwanted. You spent many nights lying awake wondering if your fears became a reality. Did he really forget about you? Was there someone else? Why not end it properly then? Was he okay? Did something happen to him? You pondered on these questions for a long time, arguing with yourself if you should ask him. But you didn’t. You were afraid of his reaction. "I told you I don't want anything serious with you!" And when you saw the new photos on his dating profile you were set on being rejected. He must had lied, must had seen you as a game. As prey that you fed kind words and loving actions to, so it did whatever you wanted it to do. Was that it?

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2 <3

[augustinapril]

congrats on 200! i can't think of anyone more deserving than you <3

𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 — request one of the character in the fandoms above in an au from my list, and I'll write you a fic!!

florist au with tasm!peter parker<33

I love this idea :(( might write more of florist!reader with Peter bc it's cute. no spiderman in this au!! hope you like this?

warnings: none! just some awkward!Peter & gn!reader <3 proofread by @lemkay-luminary .

wc: 1k || 200 followers event

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

Peter thinks the flower shop is cozy. It smells like a dewy spring morning, a variety of warm colors fills his vision as he looks around in search of you and that stupidly cute apron you’re forced to wear.

You're hiding somewhere in the forest of colorful plants, his feet leading him through the leaves. The melodic sound of your voice meets his ears when he reaches a small stand of greeting cards beside the counter.

As he peaks around the corner, he finds what he's been searching for. You're talking to a little boy, leaning down to his height while pointing at a small pot of red azaleas. Your voice is soft as you speak to him, a smile sweet as honey graces your face.

"I'm sure she will love them," You assure, grabbing ahold of the pot and handing it to him, making sure his small hands have a good grip on it. "Should we go find you Tori so you two can pay for it?"

The boy nods his head excitedly as you stand, leading the boy toward where Peter is standing. Peter moves out of the way.

Just his luck that he ends up running into the stand of greeting cards, his foot catching onto the leg of it. He barely catches it, and it’s a miracle that none of the cards fell on the floor. “Are you okay?”

He snaps to you, meeting your worried eyes. “Uh, yeah I’m okay. Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He informs you, laughing in embarrassment. He’s sure his ears are as red as the azaleas you put by the register.

A woman interrupts—though it’s more like her unknowingly coming to his rescue—she picks the little boy up, as she rests the child on her hip. “Evander! Did you find mommy's gift?” Her hands reach up to brush some of his braids out of his face as she talks, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Sure did, momma. Y/n helped me find it.” He spoke, pointing at you. You chuckle as his mom gently grabs his hand, pulling it towards her.

“What do we say about pointing, baby?”

He rushes to correct himself. “That it's rude.”

She smiles again, nodding. “That’s right. It’s okay to forget sometimes, you’re not in trouble. I’m just reminding you, baby.” He nods, head snapping back in your direction when he hears the register make a ka-ching sound, hands bouncing eagerly. “Here’s your flowers, Evander.” You say, carefully handing him the potted plant. “Remember to tell Evangeline I say happy birthday.”

“Will do. What do we say, Evander?”

“Thank you!” Evander shouts, as he waves his hand at you with enthusiasm. You wave back with a broad smile.

“You have a good day, sweetheart!” The woman shouts back as the door chimes.

“You too Tori!” You return, and the door shuts. You exhale, taking a quick moment, then turning to him. Peter forgot he was here for a second, so caught up with your interaction with that mother and her son. It was clear you knew them somehow. “Sorry for the wait.”

Peter sheepishly shakes his head, waving off your apology. “It’s no problem at all, really.” He hates to admit that he’s nervous, but he is, and it makes him feel stupid. “I'm here to pick up an order?”

“Oh course!” You say, returning back behind the counter to look at a piece of paper. Your eyes scan over it, flickering back and forth quickly. There’s a beat of silence, one that makes Peter's heart pick up its pace before you speak. “You’re Peter Parker, right?”

His eyes grow wide in confusion. He wasn’t expecting you to know his name, and by the way you chuckle, the confusion is painted on his face . “We had chemistry together, I think.”

“Oh, yeah.” He doesn’t really remember anything from that class, but you don’t need to know that. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, high school sucked. You’re not obligated to remember every classmate.” You continue, writing something down on the paper before quickly excusing yourself. Peter questions if he can go through with his plan.

Aunt May had a way of persuading him into doing it. He told her about you after coming home one day, spilling all his thoughts about the florist he’s seen multiple times skating home that he had a growing crush on. May thought that he should ask you out, and as much as he wanted to, he didn’t know how.

Which led to May convincing him to order an arrangement of flowers and use them as an excuse to try and get your number. That’s exactly what he’s trying to do, but now that he’s this far along, he wonders if he’ll be able to get the question out.

Thankfully, you’re back before he can ponder on it more, a small arrangement of lavender and white blossoms. He can smell the lavender from here. “Here are your flowers.”

“Thank you,” Peter says as anxiety creeps through his system. He wants to pull back, let go of his plan and just tell May it didn’t work. Peter knows she would see right through his lie, and she would have wasted good money on flowers for no reason. He began to speak before he gave himself another chance to back out. “Hey, uhm, is there any chance I could possibly . . .” He pauses, nerves making him second guess himself before he continues, adjusting his shirt as the words come out quicker. “I don’t know, maybe i could get your number to go with the flowers?”

He looks at you sheepishly, his face heating up as your eyes widen slightly. He thinks it's the kind of surprise that means you’re going to politely reject him and you'd send him on his way. Instead he receives your beautiful smile, making butterflies bloom in his stomach, and then you’re reaching for a pen.

Your handwriting fits you perfectly, he thinks as you hand him the paper. Your number is scribbled in blue ink, followed by a little smiley face. He doesn't realize the note you wrote in the corner until he leaves.

'Hope to hear from you soon! :)'

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

please reblog if you enjoyed this!! If you want more florist!reader & Peter my requests are open. <3

[fearsomefairytailfan]

My Secret Santa gift for @philophobic-honeybee! Here's the link to the ao3 posting of the story I wrote. I also added the story below the read more in case you don't use ao3. I hope you enjoy the story, I had lots of fun writing it!

Loke didn’t pine, he really didn’t, until Lucy Heartfilia transferred to Magnolia High School in tenth grade. She stopped Loke right in his tracks, her soft features, her kind smile, her quiet rebellion through clothing, it all screamed girlfriend material. But Loke didn’t do girlfriends, not since Karen, no he swore to himself after that he would never fall for romance again. Then Lucy crashed into his life, with her hearty laugh and creative spirit she disrupted his habit of casual flings. He kept his distance, the less he knew about her the easier it was to avoid her, of course they ended up with a lot of mutual friends. Still he kept his distance, only going to events with her if there was a big group setting, avoiding any situation where they’d be alone together.

It was the beginning of the second semester of their senior year when his plan fell apart. He didn’t notice Lucy sneak up behind him until she tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey Loke!” She chirped.

“Uh, hi.”

“Listen I know you haven’t taken interest in a while, but Natsu said you did theater in middle school and we need more boys for the spring musical.”

“Lucy I-”

She quickly interrupted him. “I know it’s not really your thing anymore, but I wrote this musical and it’s my last show of high school and I really want it to go well.” She took his hand, her hands were so soft and warm, she pulled him a little closer. “I just need one more guy and your friends said you would be the right choice.”

He could feel blood rushing to his face, he had to get out of this before he died of embarrassment. “Okay! I’ll do it!” He yelped and ran off, trying to get as far from her as possible.

It had been a while since Loke auditioned for anything, but he did love performing, the attention was unmatched. He sat down in a fold out chair outside the school auditorium. Tapping his toe on the floor. “Loke!” He looked up, his face met with Lucy’s stunning grin. “Thank you so much for doing this!”

He stared down at his feet, how was she so pretty. “Yeah it’s no big deal.”

“I still appreciate it. I was so worried we wouldn’t have the right people for the cast, but now I think it’ll be alright.” He watched her shift her weight on her feet. “Now that I’ve given the script to the crew I’m so nervous. If this doesn’t go well…”

“That’s crazy talk Lucy, it’ll go great.”

“Oh I’m sure it will. I’m just so nervous.”

“From what I’ve read it’s great.”

“I’m glad you like it!” She started to turn, but paused. “I think I know who you’ll get, you’re perfect for the role.” He looked back up as she started to run off.

“Loke!” Erza called from the auditorium doors. “It’s your turn to audition.”

The cast list was posted on Friday, everyone eagerly awaited the turnout, Loke was pretty excited. Truthfully he had loved doing shows in the past, he stopped doing them when he started dating Karen, it was one of the first casualties of the relationship. He was thrilled when he saw his role, Leo the celestial prince, the main male love interest. It was gonna be a lot of work but he was ready to put in the hours, hours of practicing with whoever was playing Iris. He decided to check, his heart stopped when he read the name ‘Lucy Heartfilia’.

When Loke received the script it was worst than he thought, not the script it was fantastic, but the relationship between Leo and Iris. It was so fleshed out and romantic, they had so many sweet scenes and two kisses. There was no way he was getting out of this less in love with Lucy.

The first day of rehearsal was that Monday, she sat next to him. “I knew you would get Leo!”

“Oh thanks, congrats on getting the lead.” He mumbled.

“Thanks! I wasn’t expecting it, but I guess I took write what you know literally, Iris is a lot like me.” She grabbed her script from her bag. “Except I’m not chosen by the galaxy to save the world.”

“I’m not much like Leo.”

“You’re handsome and charming.” She noted.

He could hear Natsu and Gray giggling next to him, he was never gonna hear the end of this. He had to keep it cool, he couldn’t let the prettiest girl in the world phase him. He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. “You’re right I am, but I’m not a big fan of commitment.”

“Leo is afraid to commit to anyone until his lament where he realizes despite his avoidance he’d already committed to Iris.” She chuckled. “Maybe you’ll learn something playing him.”

She didn’t respond, the director, Mavis, marched in. “Who’s ready for a read through?” Everyone let out a cheer. “Alright Levy could you read stage directions for us?” The short girl nodded, she was the head tech, she’d been showing off her abilities for years and her script was already full of notes, she began.

Natsu and Gray caught Loke after rehearsal. “Dude you are crushing hard!” Gray teased.

“You got so red every time she talked to you!” Natsu added, tugging Loke’s arm.

“I’m not! I- it’s just weird playing a romantic scene.” He paused, but added. “Especially when you’re not interested in them.”

“You’re always interested in pretty girls.”

“Yeah man I don’t think there’s a girl you haven’t hit on here.”

“Well I don’t like her!” He growled and stormed off to his car.

Rehearsals only got more intense from there, every other day he and Lucy were practicing being in love with each other, but today was the first day they were practicing their kiss scene. “Leo!” Lucy shouted, running on stage from the wings. “By stars! Are you alive?”

“Iris…” He groaned, playing up his acting from his spot on the ground. “Iris!”

She knelt by his side. “Oh Leo-” He watched her worried expression drop. “Line?”

“When you disappeared. I was sick with worry.” Erza yelled from the house.

“Right.” She mumbled, then put her acting face back on. “When you disappeared! I was sick with worry!”

“I’m alright princess.” He brought a hand to her face and caressed it. “I stopped the Dragon king for now, but I can’t defeat him. I don’t have my strength back.”

“Well I guess everyone is relying on me now.” Her expression changed from worried to confident, but there was discombobulation in the audience.

“Lucy you skipped like eight lines!”

“Oh! Sorry!”

“Let’s go back to Loke’s last line.”

“I’m alright princess.” He touched her face again, it was so warm. “I stopped the dragon king, for now. But I can’t defeat him, I don’t have my strength back.”

“I -um I -uh.” She stumbled over the words. “I- will- Will you regain your strength? Will you get back what he took from you?”

“I don’t know, maybe if he’s defeated.”

“I’m sorry.” She bowed her head.

He sat up. “It was worth it for you.”

She stared at him, her performance dropping. “I- line?”

“I love you. I love you Leo. I love you more than anything in the world, I will get your strength back I swear this to you.” Erza called in monotone.

“I- I…” Her voice trailed off.

Mavis stood up. “Okay guys take five, let’s get some water and shake this off.” She announced and hopped onto the stage. “Lucy are you okay? You know this script backwards and forwards.”

“Sorry Mavis, I do. I’m just nervous about this scene.”

“You don’t have to kiss yet, it’s only rehearsal.”

“I know, it’s just such an intimate scene to do in front of people for the first time.”

Mavis thought for a second. “Okay. How about this? You two go rehearse this scene in the band room alone and we’ll work on some choreography out here.”

“Okay thanks Ms.Vermillion.”

The pair headed off to the band room and sat on the floor together. “Are you okay Lucy?” Loke asked.

“Okay there’s a reason I’m messing up, but it’s embarrassing.”

“How about I tell you something embarrassing first?”

Lucy grinned. “Okay!”

“Oh now I gotta think of something…”

“You offered that without anything in mind?” Lucy chuckled. “Come on you’ve gotta be embarrassed about something.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “When I first met Gray I thought his name was Gary.”

“That’s not that bad, just a little-”

“I called him Gary for two years before anyone corrected me.”

“Oh that is a little embarrassing.”

“Yeah so what’s yours?”

“Well this stage kiss, it’s gonna be my first kiss.”

“What about dating? Did you not kiss your last boyfriend?”

She shifted. “I’ve never really dated anyone before?”

“Wait, really?”

“It’s just never happened, I went to an all girls boarding school before I came here and now I’m here and I’ve just made a lot of friends.”

“So you’re nervous to have your first kiss in front of a bunch of people?”

“Well yeah.”

“So what if we just kiss now?”

“What?”

“We just have a practice kiss here, no acting or anything, just us.”

“but we’re not a couple.”

“So?” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s just a kiss it’s no big deal. I’ve kissed lotsa girls.”

She played with her fingers. “Is it really not a big deal?”

“It’s just a thing you have to get out of the way, the other firsts, they’re a bigger deal. A kiss is just two lips touching for a second.”

“You’re right. Let’s do it.”

She leaned in and it suddenly felt a lot more real. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, licking her plump lips. “Like you said, no big deal. Plus of all the possible first kisses… You’re not a bad choice.” She closed her eyes. “So kiss me please.”

It was very real now, she was leaning forward, eyes closed, lips puckered, her perfect blonde locks framing her face. He was about to kiss Lucy Heartfilia, the girl of his dreams. A fake kiss, a kiss that wouldn’t mean anything. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. “Lu-”

The heavy metal hinge of the door squeaked as Levy stepped in. “Hey guys, sorry to interrupt.” Lucy jumped up, her eyes popping open. “Mavis needs you two for another scene.”

“Okay Levy, we’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay.” She pushed the door once again and began walking out. Loke watched Lucy stand up, where was she going?

“Lucy-”

“Thanks for talking to me, but I think the moment’s over.” She caught the door just before it closed. “Let’s go, there’s still half an hour left of rehearsal.”

“Okay.”

Rehearsing with her after that was like a special circle of hell, it might have been fine if they weren’t the romantic leads, but they had to practice a scene where they waltzed together. He had to hold his hand on her waist, he could feel how soft and warm her skin was where her crop top didn’t cover. By the end of rehearsal Loke was sure he had to confess before Monday’s practice or he would surely die when they got to the final scene. He sat on the edge of the stage, running through the things he could say in his head. He watched her sliding her script into her backpack and putting on her jacket. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Lucy, I-” His eyes opened and she wasn’t by the auditorium seat that had been holding her bag. She was walking up the aisle, now engulfed in a group of friends. Maybe he could catch her before she got into her car. He grabbed his bag and ran to meet the group as the were exiting the auditorium, he could hear Erza, Mira, Natsu, and Gray chatting about an upcoming double date.

Lucy hadn’t said anything in a while, but Sugarboy started to speak to her. “Hey Lucy, I was hoping you would go out on a date with me tomorrow night?”

Damn it. “Uh, yeah sure.” No! What the fuck. How was the universe not on his side this much today.

“Cool! I’ll text you.” Loke wanted to say something, but Levy was already pulling Lucy’s arm away from the crowd, squealing about the future date. This was going to be an awful weekend.

His prediction was right, he spent the weekend in bed, imagining Lucy’s date and the way she would smile and laugh at his jokes. The smile he was missing out on, the soft hands that should be holding his, he’d never really seen her date before and suddenly he felt the jealousy. He considered dragging himself out of bed, finding some girl to date for a bit while Lucy fell in love, but he saw no real point. He could finally tell that if he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want anyone.

He dreaded school on Monday, even more he dreaded rehearsal that afternoon. He’d have to suffer through acting like he was in love with a girl he was actually in love with, but wasn’t allowed to date. So of course the first person he saw when he walked in the building was Lucy. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him into an empty classroom. “Hey Loke I wanna talk.”

When her hand let go of his wrist he pulled his arms away and crossed them. “About what?”

“I was wondering… If that kiss over was still on the table?”

Fuck. “Why don’t you ask Sugarboy?”

“I don’t want to kiss him.”

“What? Why’d you say yes to the date?”

She shrugged. “He asked me out in front of a bunch of people and I thought maybe I’d want to after our date, but I’m just not interested. I told him that.”

“You figured that out after one date?”

“Sort of, I also… Um, I kind of like someone else.”

“Oh.”

“So?”

“Huh?”

“Kiss?”

“You still wanna kiss me?”

“I still need that first kiss.”

“So you want to kiss me so you can go off and kiss the guy you actually like?”

She shook her head. “No! Well, I mean sort of- Well it’s just not like that.”

“Lucy I don’t want to be used like that, tell the other guy how you feel, I don’t want to take away from you getting your first kiss with someone you like.”

He started to leave, but she grabbed his hand again. “Loke wait!”

“What?” He asked, ready to just run home and be done with this day.

“You are the one I like.”

“What?” He gasped. “Really?”

“Yeah, that’s why I wanted you to be my first kiss.”

Loke grinned, taking her shaky hand. “I’ll be your first kiss Lucy.” He watched her face light up with a smile. “If you let me take you out on Friday first.”

“Really?”

“I kind of, uh, like you too.”

Rehearsal was no longer filled with dread, now Lucy and Loke found joy in spending that time together, even if there were other people around, they were in their own little world. Each time they rehearsed the kiss scenes they brought their lips close, almost touching until they both grinned and pulled away, not until after their date.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough, but when it did Loke couldn’t seem to calm his nerves. He nervously opened doors for Lucy and pulled out her chair. He nodded at everything she said, working so hard to display active listening that he almost missed her discussing her dreams of becoming a famous playwright. At the end of the night he dropped her at her front door and smiled. “I guess this is the end of our date…”

“You were such a gentleman.” She giggled. “Although I could tell you were nervous.”

“Was it obvious?”

She leaned against his chest. “You nodded at every single thing I said.”

“I was listening.” He chuckled.

“As much as you could.” She grinned. “So are you still interested in that kiss?”

He nodded. “It’s all I can think about. You?”

“Oh I am very interested.”

His lips were pulled to hers like gravity and the second his felt the soft warm flesh against his it felt right. It felt warm and welcoming and electric, it was like no kiss he’d had before. They pulled apart despite his craving for more. “Wow…” He mumbled.

“Do they… Always feel like that?”

“No I’ve never had a kiss that felt like that before.” He stared into her bright blue eyes. “That was the best kiss of my life.”

The adventures Of Iris ran on a warm May weekend, the three days of shows went off without a hitch and all the audience could talk about was the chemistry between Iris and Leo.

At the cast party Lucy snuggled onto Loke’s lap. “Thank you for joining the show.” She whispered in his ear, watching Natsu and Gray’s stunning karaoke performance. “I told you it’d be fun.”

He grinned, kissing her cheek. “I had so much fun.”

[scorchedthesnake]

April 12, 2019

Things started to go downhill a few months into the year. One day in mid-March I had this hunch I should call my mother. We hadn't spoken in about a week and I just had this feeling. When she answered the phone, her voice was shaking and she said, "Evan, I'm in a lot of trouble." She had just seen the image of the mass in her breast. I spent a week in Palm Springs at swim camp before heading to London for a full-team work off-site where it became clear the new CCAO wanted me gone. And then I reached out to Roger to see about scheduling my next trip to Austin to see him, and he said that he had to have a conversation with someone first before we could set plans. When he didn't respond within a day, I came to understand that meant he'd met someone down there, and was seeing how serious it was. He confirmed this by text, and that was it.

I had met Roger in 2017, when I went to Homoclimbtastic for the first time (Homoclimbtastic is the national queer rock climbing convention, held in West Virginia every summer). We were driving into the campground and he was walking up the driveway and Matt said, oh, you'll need to meet this guy, you'll like him. And sure enough, I really did like him. We flirted while climbing and swimming for a couple days, then one night around the campfire we talked and drew closer and pretty soon I had my arms around him and kissed him. I noticed this was the absolute limit of the public affection such a shy man was okay with. We spent the rest of the trip together, and a couple months later I went to Austin to visit. Our relationship then mostly consisted of this: me coming to Austin, or meeting up on climbing trips to various dirtbag places all over the country. He was interviewing for jobs in Denver so we visited and thought about maybe both moving there. He was my date to weddings, and we had done New Year's in Mexico the previous January. And now I knew, he was already dating the new guy when we took that trip. It was fine: we had always agreed that if either of us met someone in our own cities, we'd give that priority. But we'd also tell the other it was coming, which he didn't do.

I confess that one of the reasons I had been spending so much time at the McKittrick Hotel in early 2019 is because of one performer, who just happened to look a lot like Roger. No, really, I'm not being crazy, look at these photos:

It wasn't Nate Carter's fault that his first cast photo made him look like that. But, Nate also happened to be the biggest breath of fresh air Sleep No More had experienced in a very, very long time. Nate loved Sleep No More, as he said when he left, he was absolutely a fan of the show himself. On some extremely visceral, fundamental level, he understood the kind of mischief and malevolence in all of his roles, the kind of play the show had always intended to make possible for performers and for audience, given the right levels of trust between and among them. He did insane and insanely awesome things every loop, like throwing a drink in my face, or choking me, or making a taxidermy ferret platter. It was always something new and something wild with Nate, and it brought back all the joy, danger and sex appeal that had gone astray in the middle years.

So on this night, I was back in New York and incredibly upset, and at the show looking for some solace. I was sipping my whiskey in Manderley when a text came from Roger. He said he'd be in New York for work the next week and wondered if I might want to meet up and talk? This from a guy who didn't really text... ever; or talk, ever, unless pressured. I didn't know what to do. But there he was making a mess of my safe place from thousands of miles away.

And Nate was on that night as Boy Witch.

I followed him dutifully through his loop, distracted by the familiarity of his face. I dressed him, which is a scene I hate because it is stressful, and painful to see someone in such agony, but you have to be there to help him put himself back together. And I go to this scene because it leads to my favorite interaction on that loop, which comes next: he takes my hand and we race breathlessly down the stairs, until the last flight when he lets go and disappears around the corner, far enough ahead of me to surprise me and push me into the wall.

He holds me by the throat, leans in and kisses my face. He says “thank you.” All of this is familiar, it’s what I know is coming, and its comfort is why I am here.

He turns to walk away, but then he stops. Turning slowly, he comes back to me and presses his hand into my chest. He lingers and stares. 

“Your heart sings,” he says. My broken heart sings.

I didn't get to actually speak with Nate until nearly a year later but by then we knew each other pretty well anyway - I followed him a lot and he knew he could mess with me however he pleased. During the pandemic shutdown he told me: he could tell something was up that night, that I was with him but not, that something uncanny was with us both as we did the loop. And he said he could tell I was hurting somehow, and just wanted to recognize it in some way. He of course had no idea of any of it: my mom, my dumb job, my dumb ex who looked like him. But it was one of Nate's great gifts as a performer, that he could read someone instantly, and that he was unafraid to bend a rule or stretch a character just a bit to make the connection, because he knew that was actually the job.

We were blessed to have him in the hotel for many years and many roles (but never the Porter, because God does not grant us every wish). I don't know if anyone ever embodied the spirit of the show in quite the complete and perfect way Nate did, and he showed that while nostalgia was well and good, the Hotel was living and breathing and thriving, even in its ninth and eleventh and twelfth years.

Nate, you're forever in the pantheon, and we wish you all the happiness and peace and joy in the world.

*and to follow up as you may have worried: my mom was treated, and has been cancer free for five years now.

[littleskittles325]

No disobeying

Summary:Jace is flirting with other girls in a club, so you make it your job to punish him when you get home.

Warning:Handjob,edging,hair pulling kink,calling names,swearing.

Pairing:Sub!jace wayland x Dom!fem!reader

                                         🥀

It was 1:38am and Jace had promised to buy you drinks,but she ran off to one of his little freind and it’s a GIRL.Youd been pissed the whole time do you bought your own drinks and sat and watched him,he was just talking to her was if he hadn’t left you.but tonight he would be begging you to let him cum,so you weren’t worried,at least for now.you waited another 30mins and then she couldn’t even hold herself ,she leaned to kiss Jace and you plopped and grabbed him.”find your own boy bitch!”and you walked away despite the people staring as you guys left you felt very pleased to know you put a bitch in her place. “Did you have to embarrass her like that?” He said with extra authority, “Yes and I’d like it if you didn’t question my actions.” Then you got home,the moment you Jace stepped in the door you pinned against the door.”So you think that you can go around using them fuck me eyes on other girls?” You say while throwing him on the bed,” We were just talking!” He says while blushing hard.”Wrong” you say jerking his pants and his under clothes off, his cock springs up very quickly,almost pathetic. He whimpers as you touch him slightly and start pumping slow and painful strokes. You start pumping faster and he curses, “is this what you wanted me to do,to treat right after you treat me wrong?” I don’t think so,when he finally almost reaches his climax you stop all movement. “What the hell!” He shouts. “Oh no,did I hurt  your feelings?” You say sarcastically, he gets on his knees and pouts then starts begging, “please y/n.” “What’d you call me pretty boy?” he loved when you called him that, “please ma’am.” Then you pulled his sweaty blonde locks back roughly,”fuck!” You put your hand back on his cock and start pumping it again,when he reaches his climax he try’s having his turn of pleasuring,but you grab his hair and yank it away from your body.You yank him into a long,rough kiss and you kiss him until his lips are sore and swollen.You then take a shower and you two cuddle together, then he whispers,  “ maybe I’ll do that again” as he winks, “if you do, remember no screaming.”

Sorry I should have done some praising.

Hope you enjoy 

[lucienarcheron]

A Bouquet of Good Intentions [ Elucien ]

Author's Note: This little drabble was inspired by my Elucien Modern AU - Bouquet Full of Feelings series. ENJOY!

“So...what do you think?” 

Elain’s lips twitched as she watched Lucien smile brightly at her, gesturing to the bouquet he had put together on the table.

His heart was in the right place but the execution…

Elain flushed slightly and bit her lip. “Um. It’s a lovely bouquet but I didn’t realize this was how you felt.” 

Lucien blinked, his smile slowly fading as his eyes flickered to the bouquet in front of them. He had assured her he knew his flowers. He had gone on and on about how living in the Spring Court meant that flowers came second nature to him so her request would be a breeze. 

While the bouquet was lovely, boy oh boy, did it send a message.

“You told me to put together a bouquet of how I felt and surprise you.” he said, and his mouth went into a small pout. “I think I did well.”

The defensiveness in his tone made Elain smile a little and she moved closer to him, touching his hand gently. “You did do well but um, you are aware that flowers have different meanings, right?” she asked, and her smile grew at his flattened expression.

“No. I am an uncultured swine.”

She laughed and swatted his arm. “As the resident expert in the language of flowers, do you want to know what you’re telling me with this bouquet?”

“Pray tell, flower language expert. What am I telling you?” he said dryly, and Elain rolled her eyes before clearing her throat.

“These are Geraniums here — Horseshoe Geranium specifically, which means stupidity.” she began, and Lucien blinked. “You added foxglove flowers which are very pretty but mean insincerity. These are Meadowsweet flowers which mean uselessness so you can see how I would appreciate that. You’ve also added yellow carnations which is telling me that you’re very disappointed in me, and last but not least, Orange Lilies which symbolize hatred.”

Elain gave him a look full of mock offense as Lucien’s face slowly colored. 

“Why, if I didn’t know any better, Lucien,” she said. “I’d say you were giving me a bouquet full of loathing. 

“I —”

She crossed her arms. “You’re basically telling me ‘fuck you’ in flower, Lucien.” 

“That is not —”

“Tell me how you really feel, mate.” she said and bumped him with her hip as he stuttered. 

“The combination looked good together.” he mumbled with a frown. “It was all about the colors!”

Elain’s lips twitched and then she burst into giggles, kissing him on the cheek quickly and wrapping her arms around one of his. “Like I said, the bouquet is beautiful.” she said quickly even when he scowled. “But a little mean. Did I upset you? What has little ‘ole me done to deserve this?”

Lucien groaned when he looked at her and found a playful pout on her lips. “You know you didn’t. I went about this wrong  —”

“I thought you knew your flowers.” she continued and batted her eyelashes, her pout intensifying. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t love me anymore?”

“Now see here, Elain — “

“Are you bored of me already?” she whispered, then gasped dramatically and pulled back just an inch to look up at him and continued in her hushed tone, “Is it because I finally let you touch my flower you’re no longer interested in me?”

Lucien stared at her for a long silent moment and though Elain fought back the laugh for as hard she could, his expression had her doubling over quickly. Lucien only stared at her incredulously before succumbing to his own laughter. 

“Did Jurian slip you some of his special juice?” he asked with a snort. 

“Nooo.” she said in that singsong voice of hers. “I am simply in a giggly awe to find out how much you apparently loath me.”

“To be fair,” he said and flicked her forehead. “You told me to go with my gut.”

“To also be fair, you’re the one who said you knew your flowers.” she said with a pointed look and bumped her hip into his again. “One cannot choose flowers based on color alone! All your knowledge seems like a lie now.”

Lucien narrowed his eyes and then slowly smirked. “Maybe I just need to be reacquainted with flowers again. Learn their meanings in a different way.” 

Elain flushed and smiled sweetly. “Whatever do you mean, my love?” 

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean, dove.” 

And despite truly knowing what he meant, Elain gave him a coy smile and then beamed brightly. “You’re right. It’s time for me to pull out my Flowerpaedia and teach you exactly everything you need to know!”

Lucien pursed his lips immediately. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Too bad. Your flower education is deeply lacking and I, for one, don’t wish to associate with you if you don’t know the proper meaning of flowers.” she replied and patted his arm, pulling away. 

“Well, that seems rather dramatic.” he said with a chuckle, pulling her back into his side and into his arms. “But fine. I’ll be the best of students if you give me a proper incentive.” 

Elain rolled her eyes but smiled, her hands now on his chest, trailing lightly. “And what incentive would that be?”

“Some kisses. Some touches. A little bit of both and then some more.” he said softly with a grin. “Positive reinforcement goes a long way, mate.”

“Oh? And you’d do anything for that positive reinforcement, hm?”

“Anything you want.” he said, his grin morphing into a smirk. “I am but a humble student, at the mercy of your knowledge, oh wise one.”