#and i dont want to hear apologies to the rest of the world when they aren't going to have to live through the fear that

[yellowjeans]

Going to try my best to not doompost but it is very hard

[starlinehoney]

cw: fingering, male sub, humping, innocent!art, slight religious themes, reader is very sexual and art is very virgin, art thinks of Patrick while with you which could mean nothing. Took inspiration from @artdcnaldson and her virgin!art au.

NSFW under the cut

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I love innocent!art I DONT CARE IF ITS CANON

Art had never touched a girl like this before. He’d kissed them, and sometimes they’d touch him through his shorts, but he was always too nervous to go further. From the way Patrick talked about it, he didn’t know if he was prepared. He doesn’t know how to be assertive or dominant. He likes to be sweet, he likes to be.. taken care of.

Of course, he’s watched porn. He’s seen the girls who step on guys and spank them and make fun of them, but that’s just porn. And he’s honestly not sure he wants that either. He just wants to make whoever he’s with feel good, and he.. hasn’t exactly learned how to do that.

But you.. you showed him a whole new world. You were like some sort of sex goddess.. you just knew how to take care of him. You knew exactly what he was thinking— you let him just.. explore you. You were perfect.

He’d liked you for a while now, and you weren’t exactly shy about how you wanted him. So one night, you finally got him into your apartment. It took some puppy dog eyes, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t resist.

Just as he feared, you’re immediately on top of him, kissing him with such.. need. He’s never felt that before. Most girls are always hesitant.. more slow, cautious movements. You just immediately took over, and that made the blood rush straight from one head to the other. He felt lightheaded, and your lipgloss was so sticky and you smelled so good.. he was overwhelmed and fidgety, you could sense his nervousness from a mile away.

“…are you a virgin?” He hears you mutter against his lips. He pulls away slightly as he watches an almost wicked grin grow on your previously sweet looking lips. He blinks a few times at the question. What does he say to that? It’s embarrassing. You know the answer by how he flushes from the tips of his ears down his neck, and somehow, your smile only grows.

He sees how you slightly bite your lip. He can’t help but think you’re a little too excited by the idea of him being a virgin— the look on your face reminds him of how Patrick looked when he found out Art had never jerked off. The face of someone who was about to change his life.

“have you ever touched a girl before?” You ask sweetly, softly. There’s an almost motherly tone to your voice, and it makes his head all fuzzy. He shakes his head after a moment, stuttering out a small “no” as he bats his long eyelashes up at you. He’s so hard it hurts, and all he can focus on his how you’re pressing against him while straddling his lap. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so they just rest at his sides. He wants to touch you, feel you, worship you.. but that’d be too much, right?

He feels your hand touch his own. God, they’re probably all gross and clammy. Now that’s all he can think about. He’s about to start a small apology for his nervous state when he feels his fingers press against something warm and wet. His eyes flit to where his arm leads and he sees his hand underneath your skirt. “You want me to—“ he asks, seeming almost concerned. But when he looks up, you just.. nod. So simply, without a care in the world. And suddenly, he can’t remember why he was so nervous. You’re here..you’ll teach him. You’ll take over where Patrick left off.

He feels around and stops when he hears you make a small noise “was that bad?” He asks ashamedly, but regains his little dignity when you frantically shake your head. He furrows his brow slightly when you tell him to keep doing it, but does as you ask. You’re the expert.

He runs his slender fingers over the raised area over and over and over, eyes trained on your face as he watches you lose your composure. “Inside— put them inside.” You say as you hold back a small moan and he nods, searching eagerly for your entrance. He runs his fingers over the slick skin and finds it rather quickly, slowly inserting his middle finger. He moans at the feeling just as you do— it’s so pleasant inside of you. It’s soft and warm, and so.. close, you’re constricting around his finger like you never want it to leave.

He begins to feel around there, too. Pressing against a particularly squishy spot that piques his interest as you grind on his palm and his lap. He feels himself getting more and more warm, and he feels an all too familiar knot building in his stomach.

Guilt creeps in as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. You haven’t even touched him and he’s about to soil his boxers. How pathetic. Not to mention all he can look at is how hot you look like this. Flushed cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, your boobs in his face. There’s a soft light coming from your desk lamp that shines through your messy hair, and he swears that you’re a god, or an angel.. or something. You can’t feel this good, and look that way, and be.. a person. People have flaws, but you’re just.. perfect.

Your moans get more frequent and loud, so much that he can now hear you over his own whimpers and whines. He wants to tell you to stop, to avoid the humiliation of cumming in his pants. But you feel too good, and he can’t resist the thought of cumming with you. It’s like an obsession now, it keeps replaying in his brain and he has to have it be his reality.

He hears you chant his name and give him a quick warning of your impending orgasm before planting your lips back on his. He whines into your mouth as he tips over the edge and you groan as you do the same. You’re humping against eachother like dogs in heat, and there’s something so beautiful about how you made eachother feel so much with so little.

As you come down, he’s still humping against you, despite the encroaching overstimulation. He wants to feel you as much as possible. You smile “does that feel good?” You ask in that motherly tone, regaining your composure with impressive ease, and he stops like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. He flushes and mutters soft apologies into your shoulder, letting out a pathetic whimper when you tell him to keep going.

He learns a lot that night..

[disneyprincemuke]

take my hand * ls2

the princess, to inherit the throne after marriage, is having the hardest time trying to find a man to wed. until, a certain duke of somewhere comes riding in to ask for her hand

pairings: prince!logan x princess!reader

word count: 4.6k

notes: just a short long introductiON!! ugh, there's a lot more to this i think and i'm so excited for this like u cant make this shit up, thank u to the turtle anon who requested this tbh i never would have thought of this my fucking self!! AHHH tell me wht u think bc i spent 3 days drafting and writing this and i'll retire if i dont know what u think of it

(f1 masterlist)

your hands grab your skirt as you move one foot in front of the other. you bend your knees as you curtsy and drop your head. "i hope that you didn't find your stay to be a waste of time, your majesty. i can only offer my sincerest apologies.”

"princess, please," a laugh makes you lift your head with an unimpressed expression flashing on your face, "i told you to call me max. and, it's okay. perhaps we were not the best match."

"truly," you smile, resting your hands on your poofed-up gown that covers your legs. "i do, however, really did enjoy your stay. i learned a lot about the world while you were here."

max glances at the carriage that approaches the front steps that lead to the castle. "text me when you do find the love match you're looking for, princess," he smiles, turning to you politely. "shame that it could not be prince charles."

"do not bring that up. it is unlike me to be so particular of something so... superficial," you laugh, a hand coming up to your mouth. "i'll extend an invite to you for the wedding - if there will ever be one."

"you're absolutely lovely," he straightens his shirt. "i'm sure there will be somebody that will put an end to your long search for a husband."

"a princess can only dream," you shrug. you take a step forward when the carriage stops right by you, mirroring the step he takes to initiate his departure. "texting buddies, okay? take pictures of bangkok for me when you pay a visit to prince alex."

"your wish is my command," max smiles. he holds his hand out to you, palm facing up. "want to hear one more fun fact about geography before i leave?"

you shake your head with a polite smile, lifting your hand and tilting your head as he takes it into his. "please just leave, max. no more fun facts."

"fine. i shall text you one when i arrive in the netherlands," he teases you, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

that was how the week ended for you. you waved as you watched prince max's carriage ride off into the sunset, towards the exit of your castle. you then sigh when he is no longer in sight. you turn around to face the exterior of the castle you called home for the entirety of your life.

at the large doors, your younger brother stands with his arms folded over his chest. "debrief, sister?"

"yes," you mutter, grabbing what you can of your petticoat and skirt, and hurrying up the stairs. "did you manage to sneak sabine in? she has to be there for the debrief."

"in your bedroom with a bottle of expensive champagne and orange juice as per your request," mick mutters, turning on his heel as you pass him at the doors. "before you run off, however, mother looks for you."

"tell mother i am busy," you frown, hastily navigating the long hallway to try and get to your room. realistically, your farewell with max lasted much longer than you would have liked. but, he is now considered a friend.

“sister,” mick says with a bewildered expression on his face. “she will shave my head if i say that to her.”

you grin. “good, then i get to keep my hair.”

“it’s important, she emphasised. something about a new guest for next week.” mick jogs to catch up to you, stomping his foot into the ground when you come to a halting stop. he smiles apologetically at you. “i hate to be the bearer of bad news for you, sister.”

you fight the urge to roll your eyes. your grasp only tightens around your skirt. “another guest so soon? is she so desperate to hop off the throne and ride off into the sunset with father for an early retirement?”

mick sighs and shakes his head. “you know it’s not like that.”

“all i asked of her is that she gives me a week break between all of the men she is throwing at me! i have not had a moment to myself in three weeks!” you ramble, picking up the weight of your dress again. you charge down the hallway. “i’ve barely had the time to listen to the voices in my head, brother.”

“i told you to stop making that joke — it’s not funny!”

“it is!”

“it could very well be existent — the voices in your head. what are we to do if you truly turn out to be a lunatic of some sort?”

mick is ahead of you a couple of steps again when you halt your footsteps. “you’re saying you’d love me less if i were to be diagnosed to be a lunatic?”

he presses his lips together. “i should tell mother about the time you took body shots off of frederik at that one party i snuck you into.”

“perhaps i shall tell mother about your escapades with the help,” you point out. your smile slowly turns triumphant when mick rolls his eyes and takes a step back. “exactly.”

“i’ll see you in your bedroom, devil spawn,” mick says through his teeth. he glances down the hall and turns on his heel. he leans into you slightly with a smirk. “bring laila. tell her i miss her.”

“take the piss, mick,” you scoff. you continue your way down the hallway and make a quick right. the stairwell leading up to your bedroom almost tempts you, but the silence of the hallway makes your mother’s voice briefly flashes in your ear.

you can almost imagine the fallout if you ignored her this time. so you take one more step down the hallway and knock on the door. from the corner of your eye, you can see someone approaching you. “princess.”

you slowly turn your body to face them and tilt your head. “laila.”

“how was the farewell with prince max?” she giggles, hovering behind you as you wait for your mother’s response. “glad to be on your own, i hope.”

“yes, until you realise that i’m here because mother,” you knock again, “has found another bachelor to terrorise me with either his questionable fashion or weird love for countries that are not his own! for the next week!”

the door finally opens, knocking you back a step as the sudden intrusion of your complaints. you were not done rambling on about the failed courtships that you have had to endure in the last couple of months.

“there you are, mother. i was wondering if mick was simply trying to get rid of me by telling me you needed me,” you grumble, walking straight into the tea room she locked herself in. “question: why is mick telling me about another suitor coming in the next week?”

“ah,” your mother smiles. “yes. i’ve been meaning to speak to you about him, but you seemed busy with prince max. actually, i thought i might have to call off the duke of florida.”

you raise an eyebrow and turn to her. “but mother, i need a break.”

she shrugs in return, throwing her arms in the air. she walks back to the table in the far corner of the room where her tea is set. “he is a very busy man, darling.”

“i’m a busy woman!” you shriek, taking all offence to what your mother is trying to imply. “are you saying his time is more valuable than mine? i am a princess, to inherit the throne upon marriage — he is just a duke.”

your mother doesn’t respond, but takes a seat at her table and smiles at you. you glance at laila, standing quietly by the door with her hands clasped together. you turn back to your mother.

“some might say he will only turn out to be my trophy husband if all of this works out the way you want it to!”

“please, watch yourself! is that what you learned when we let you go out to uni?” your mother scolds you with a bewildered expression on her face. “well, it’s no wonder you cannot find a husband. we are running out of eligible bachelors, just to inform you.”

you part your lips, chest heaving as you try and process — yet again — the underlying meaning of her words. “postpone the courtship.”

“i simply cannot. and, it would be rude of me as he is already en route,” she sips on her tea, “he arrives in the morning.”

“i-“ you cut yourself off and take a deep breath. “whatever.” you turn on your heel and march towards the door. “let’s go, laila. let’s have one last debrief before i give in to my true desire to throw myself out of the bloody window.”

“behave, (y/n)!”

you kick your feet up as you pour orange juice into the champagne flute. "kind fernando was fine, actually," you say, pointing at the picture that flashes on the wall of your bedroom. "it's just unfortunate that he was a bit too old for me."

"a bit?" mick scoffs, turning to you. he is on your bed, duvet pulled up to his shoulders, with one of his arms poking out to hold his champagne flute. "he's ten years younger than father, you think he is only a bit old?"

you stare at him. "it's just twenty years - it could have been worse."

"she's deranged," sabine says, half her upper body laying on your bed while her legs are on the ground of your carpeted floor. "don't mind her. so, next failed date."

the picture immediately changes, now prince george of britain is plastered on your wall in all his glory. you sigh and throw your head back into your chair. “this one is just such a shame.”

“that he’s much sassier than you,” mick grins, turning to you. “you reckon he’s…”

“definitely not. he told me he’s in love with a mundt,” you mutter. “but prince alex told me it’s complicated — mundt is arranged to marry someone else!”

laila gasps, turning to you from the corner of the room. "have you got a groupchat with all the royals or something?"

"no, prince alex is just my bestie," you beam, turning back to the screen. "i'd have married him on the spot if princess lily wasn't already with him."

"you don't like prince alex like that," mick mutters, side eyeing you with a small scowl. "if you were so open to marrying friends, why didn't you just marry prince max?"

"because he was born to be irritating." you shake your head. "and i'm not interested in geography like that. i can't have that for the rest of my life."

"okay, but what was wrong with the crown prince of monaco? he was sculpted by the gods," sabine mutters, changing the slide. objectively, he very well could have been the one that ended all of this for you.

but there was something about his odd fashion choices that made you pull away about three days into his stay in the palace. you lied through your teeth about it simply not being a love match, but never told him about the real reason. it just seems quite mean and intentional if you brought that up.

"not his fashion sense," you mutter. you turn to laila. "why are you standing the corner? don't you want to cuddle with your boyfriend who's already made a home out of my bed?"

"no, princess, i'm at work," she whispers, shaking her head. "more champagne?"

"ridiculous," you mutter, pointing at mick. "when we're in this room and those doors are closed, you are my friend. and his secret girlfriend. so please, kick the shoes off and cuddle before i change my mind."

mick grins, pushing the blankets from his torso. he opens up one of his arms for her. "i told you she doesn't care."

"yeah, but i work for her," laila mutters, climbing into your bed hesitantly and snuggling up into mick's side.

you put your drink down on the table and readjust the projector set up next to you, sharpening the quality and readjusting it to ensure that everyone can see the pictures proper. "don't need to remind me i'm single, you guys."

"you should have just given prince charles a chance," sabine mutters with an eyeroll. she looks at you with her lips pressed together. "i keep telling you - that prince was a catch despite the weird fashion sense."

you switch to the next slide. "fluorescent yellow is up next,” you mutter. “prince lando is so funny.”

“i’m going to tell you again, sister,” mick looks over at you, “funny isn’t going to rule your people properly.”

you roll your eyes and take a swig of your mimosa. “he didn’t even want to court me in the first place — his mother talked him into it,” you explain, shaking your head. “we’re mutuals on instagram!”

“are you even allowed an instagram account?” mick laughs, remembering all the lectures you both would received growing up about behaviour on social media.

“i know you’ve got a private one,” you clear your throat, “as do i. it was very handy for uni.”

“true that,” sabine agrees with you, nodding with a wide smile. “i’m your biggest fan. she’s got the most ratchy stuff in there, mick. you don’t follow her?”

“no, we’re not that close,” mick shakes his head with a giggle. “so, prince lando essentially… just isn’t looking to be married so soon?”

“unfortunately not. but that’s absolutely none of my business,” you giggle, sinking into your seat comfortably. you flip to the next picture and hum in satisfaction. “and the latest one to add to our collection.”

“ah, prince max,” mick grins. he looks at laila. “he was lovely, wasn’t he?”

laila presses her lips together and giggles. she nuzzles into mick’s side, resting her head on his shoulder. “he was very friendly. i quite liked him during his stay.”

“as did my sister, i believe,” mick teases. “do you know how many fun facts prince max knows about the world?”

“ah, i’ve spoken to him,” sabine nods with a soft giggle. she pushes herself up onto the bed, stomach down and rests her head flatly. “he was very nice.”

“she snuck you in somehow this week?” mick turns to you. “very defiant, sister. were you not afraid that mother would catch you sneaking a commoner into the palace again?”

you press your lips together and nod enthusiastically. “max wanted gin and tonics.”

“wow, first name basis,” laila teases, covering her lips with her hand. “he was a talkative drunk, my love, but he is very delightful to be with. did you not converse with him when he was here?”

"i was busy with my finals up until this afternoon," mick sighs, shaking his head. "though, i overheard dear sister over there telling prince max he will be invited to the wedding. so, i will see him again."

"you're such a snitch, mick," you grunt as you roll your eyes. "but anyway, i've got a prince something coming in tomorrow for another week of courtship."

sabine lifts her head to look at you. "seriously? did your mother tell you who it is? shall we search him up on google so we can form first opinions before his arrival?"

mick lifts an eyebrow, moving his head to the side while he maintains his judgemental stare at your best friend. "isn't that a bit much?"

you hum. the thought of google searching for the duke of florida is very tempting. while you do typically let sabine go and do her own investigative searches ahead of time for you to assess how much fun you might have in the time of courtship, it feels like this one is too soon to be able to prepare for it.

you reach over to the projector and turn it off, rolling your eyes at the chorus of disappointment that your entourage voices out. "not for this one, i fear," you stand up and readjust your pyjama shirt. "the duke of florida will have to simply remain a mystery to us all until sunrise."

"what?" sabine slumps her shoulders as disappointment laces her words. "but i won't even be here for his arrival. that's unfair, princess! i insist on sticking around!"

you perk up at the suggestion. you clench your jaw as your face lights up with an idea, turning to your best friend with a small smile. "you're right. you should stay, sabine." you turn to mick with a small smile. "she should stay, shouldn't she, brother?"

he raises an eyebrow in response, and you scowl at the way laila is also staring at you in curiosity. "and how do you suppose you will make that possible? mother will not allow."

"but father will," you beam, "father will not say no. he loves sabine as much as he loves me."

mick gives you a thumbs up. "i would never have thought that you were a daddy's girl, sister."

you roll your eyes and head for the door. "i will find father and i shall convince him to let sabine stay."

"oy." you hear a tired voice before your body is shaken. the duvet is pulled up to your back with your face nuzzled into the pillow. "mother asked me to wake you."

"brother, i wish to wake up one day and not have you pester me," you mutter, rubbing your eye as you lift your head.

"you had that the entirety of my semester when i was away for uni," mick laughs. you feel the bed dip and a hand on your shoulder. next to you, sabine lifts her head to glare at mick. "ah, i seem to have woken up your partner-in-crime as well. mother didn't ask for you, only my sister."

"ah, fuck off. you're not the prince of anything to me, mick schumacher, i've seen you hunched over the bathroom with puke on your lips," sabine mutters, slowly sitting up. she turns to you. "are you ready for another potential bachelor?"

"how late did you sleep, sabine?" you hum, sitting up as well. you sigh and lay your weight on mick's back, resting your head on his shoulder. you glance over at her, assessing the shadows under her eyes. "have you even slept?"

"couple hours," she giggles, tearing off the duvet off her body. "i was up all night researching this duke of florida. i'm very excited for my stay in your palace, princess."

mick chuckles, looking over at the older girl that paces around your room. he looks at you and rests his cheek on the top of your head. "i suggest you start getting ready before mother is the one that asks you."

"just give me a minute," you whisper, shaking your head. truthfully, you were just not ready to be courted by another eligible bachelor. while you have yet to meet anyone who would generally make you gouge your eyes out, being courted endlessly for days is just not a very ideal situation.

you never know - the duke of florida might actually might be the one that throws you over the edge.

the sound of heels echoing in the hallway makes you and mick perk up, the tone and the pace of it being too familiar. you hop off the bed and grab the skirt of your nightgown. mick hops to his feet and jogs over to the door. "okay, i shall get up now."

you take a deep breath as you stare at the stairwell that would lead you towards your potential death. you can hear your mother and father conversing at the end of the stairs.

you take a deep breath as you hunch over the railing that grants you a look at your family and the door. it never gets any easier meeting these men of high status almost week after week, hopeful to ask for your hand at the end of it all.

and it doesn't get any easier trying to find gentle ways to reject these men either. they're very receptive to your rejection, which always gives you some sort of comfort when the time comes, but you're sure they are only this graceful about it because you are a princess.

you're very well aware that the average man would not react that way, very telling of your experiences in university. often, your brother would have to come in between, or the bodyguard loitering in the area (that your father insists should always be around) would have to come to your rescue and whisk you away.

"don't be so nervous, sister," mick mutters, appearing next to you with his hands in his pockets. "i'm sure the duke of florida would not be any worse than the other men that have had a go at asking for your hand. otherwise, mother would have never let him stay here with us."

you take a deep breath. "what if he's another," you look around and lean into mick, "loser? what am i to do then?"

mick shrugs with a soft chuckle. he lifts his elbow and offers it to you, gesturing at the stairwell. "then you tell father and i - we shall take care of the rest for you, princess," he taps your hand when you grab onto his arm, "let's go?"

you nod and let your younger brother guide you down the stairs.

"ah, sweetheart, good morning," your father grins when he takes notice of your presence, stretching out an arm to you. mick drops his arm when you approach your father, throwing yourself into his body for a hug. "is something wrong?"

"i no longer feel like being an heiress to the throne," you mutter softly, avoiding the daggers that your mother is shooting at you next to the older man in front of you. you sigh when he pinches your cheek gently. "just a little tired."

he laughs, patting your back lightly. "you will be okay. the first day is always the best." he looks at your mother. "come on, love. cut her some slack."

"yeah, mother," you smile teasingly, peeking at your mother. "what if the duke of florida actually turns out to be a creep this time? i would be the first to say 'i told you so'."

"not before me, i hope," mick mutters from the window sill, covered by the blinds that shield your entryway from the outside. "i think he's here, sister."

"are you sure?"

mick lifts the curtain from his body and turns to you with a frown. "are you expecting any other royal company?"

"i ought to shave your head in your sleep one night, you know," you bicker. you take a deep breath and pick up your skirt and petticoat from the ground.

you turn around and glance at sabine, hiding shyly behind the door to the study down the hall. she gives you a thumbs-up while you sigh and turn back to the door.

"laila," you sigh, your hand slightly coming out to beckon for her to come towards you. "you stayed up with sabine looking into this guy, i hope?"

"yes, princess," she nods firmly, glancing at mick by the window. "he looks decent. but again, pictures on the internet and interviews can only say so much about a person."

"that's what he is here for - to show you who he is," your father smiles, gesturing towards the door.

you take a step back as the grand doors are pulled open for you. you squint your eyes at the sudden brightness of the sun outside and you hold a hand above your eyes to shield yourself away from the sun.

in fact, there's now a carriage pulling up to the front porch steps of the main building in the palace you call home. you step outside, followed shortly by mick and then your parents.

the carriage comes to a stop, catching your breath in your throat as you anticipate who, or what, will walk out to greet you. perhaps you should have let yourself indulge in the google search that your brother did with your best friends.

two men walk out first, and of course you know that neither of them is the man who will potentially ask for your hand. until a young man steps out, sandy brown hair and a polite smile on his face. he catches your eye and does a bow to acknowledge you.

"i suppose he does not look so bad," you mutter under your breath, leaning towards laila who stands slightly behind you. "he looks... like he would be a normal guy."

"i hate to break it to you, sister," mick mutters under his breath.

you hum in response, unsure of what he means. then he takes a step aside from the door while he readjusts the sleeves of his dark orange suit. another man steps out of the carriage, sporting a royal blue motif with the weirdest mix of brunette-blonde for a hair colour. you make a mental note to ask him if he's done anything to his hair as a conversation starter.

"but that's the duke of florida," laila follows up softly. "we've got no idea who the other man is."

your mother takes a step forward with her chin high in the air. she passes you as she starts greeting the two young men. "welcome!"

you turn to your father. "who the hell is that? why are there two of them?" you turn back to the carriage where your mother is now making their acquaintance. "is this a prank, father?"

to which, he only shrugs. "i intend to find out as much as you, princess."

he puts a hand on your shoulder to urge you towards the steps to greet them. as you step down, you can hear mick chuckling. "quite a situation you've gotten yourself into, sister. two suitors at the same time?"

"they fight at dawn on the last day for her hand," laila jokes softly enough for only mick and yourself to hear.

you swat at them from the back of your skirt to hush their giggles, slowly coming to a stop where the men gathered.

"sweetheart," your mother beams, walking over to you. she wraps a hand around your arm and pulls you with her to take a step forward to them. "introduce yourself."

"princess," the unnamed man in dark orange greets you with a small smile. "pleasure to make your acquaintance. prince of australia; i'm oscar."

"ah," you grab your skirt and move your feet in front of the other, "pleasure to make your acquaintance."

the prince of australia - oscar, nudges his friend forward. he straightens his back and gives you a smile, and you notice the way his green eyes sparkle as they stare into yours.

"duke of florida," he whispers, "i'm logan. thank you for having me."

he bends slightly and presents his hand right by yours. you press your lips together as you lift it slightly, just enough to give him the green light to take your hand into his.

you're pleasantly surprised when he presses a kiss to your gloved hand. "i hope i don't waste your time, princess."

you smile as you prepare yourself for another curtsy before he shakes his head. he puts your hand down gently, resting in on your skirt before taking a respectful step back. "you're the princess," he smiles. "no need for that."

you nod. "i'm sure your travel had been longwinded and exhausting. care for some refreshments?"

[reasaph]

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that your my savior."

Soshiro Hoshina x Suicidal Fem Reader!

Summary: (name) a person with no beliefs, no reason and will to live gets hospitalized after another attempt. There, she meets hoshina soshiro and she's been looking forward to waking another morning since.

TW:mention of death, reader got hospitalized for attempting, mention of bedrotting.

Title is from the song "sailor song" by Gigi Perez!

Part 2!

You and Soshiro talked for hours, the cans of the coffee he's got you both long forgotten and moist. To say they were the most comfortable hours of your life wouldn't be an exaggeration. Your sure hes got you hooked. Humbly, you ask anyone; be it fate or any god. You wish, you beg, you 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺 to whoever in charge to extend the hours with him. One minute more to bask in his presence, thats it. You've never desired something so much that you decided to pray. That was something you never thought you'd do. You didnt dwell your whole personality on just a mere belief. But he's got you on your knees, hands claspped with eyes screwed shut, asking for another more minute.

"So so, what d'ya do you think the doctors here do on their free time?" A silly and deranged question. From the short time you'd spend with him, not even a day Long, you had keeped count of those incoherent questions of his. You dont know if he was doing it On purpose, but those questions are the ones That sat you here on this bench fo hours.

"well, This is a tiring job. So they'd probably want as much rest, right?"

"Probably, Your right. I like to think they gossip about patients."

"Thats completely unprofessional."

He laughs. You laugh to, and you dont evem realize it. The vibrating echo of Your laughter didnt sound forced this time, it didn't need to be ripped and snatched out of your throat. It was sincere, you could say it would only be with him. This is new, clutching your stomach in futile attempt to control the laughs that keep escaping, incredibly new. You dont even know what your laughing at anymore, you just are. Hoshina had stopped making noise the moment you did. It was his first time hearing someone laugh like that, so raw and free. He could tell your unfamiliar with the sound of your own happiness, it wasnt rocket science. He feels like he'd just unveiled an artifact, so precious even when kept and hidden for centuries. It would mean the world to him if he could keep making you laugh like this. He didn't say anything, he'd be so guilty if he interupped you at your highest.

But all good things must come to an end. You know that the most. Your familliar with the bitterness that comes after everything worth hanging on to. It all seemed to short, even now. The moment Hoshina checked the time, you knew what was coming next, you could smell it a mile away. Yet you still hopped you were wrong, you dont want this conversation to end just yet. You dont want to face everything head on again. That face he made told everything, it screamed 'i have to go' and it wrathed over your chest. You dont want him to go, you dont want to leave the comfortable atmosphere with him. And above all, you dont wanna feel like an empty walking corpse once more. Hoshina turned to face you, a mourning look adorned his features. That was a new expression of his you've witnessed, you've only seen him giddy and silly until now. Now, he looks upset. You know your time with him is over for today.

"Hey, (name), really sorry but I hafta go now. That smug of a doc said I have prescriptions to take." Thats odd, why is he apologizing? Could he perhaps feel the same agony as you? You believe its impossible, but not because you think he doesn't care. Because he cant possibly match the ache in your chest. He cant, for its to much to even put into words. He hasn't even moved from his seat yet you already long to be in his presence again. Hoshina is sad, yes, but you are 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥.

"Its fine, I really uh— enjoyed talking to you."

"Hey now, dont say it like we wont see each other again. Yer still treating me tomorrow, dont forget about that now. "

"Right."

You guys parted ways after waving goodbye and mumbling 'see you'. The walk back to your hospital room, you felt even more empty and hollow each step your feeble legs took you. Because each step signicates a meter added to the distance between you and him. You dont know where Hoshina is right now, you cant pinpoint his exact location in this big of a hospital and If you could strap a beacon on him, you would. Your chest boils once again, you could feel your lungs close to giving in. It was hell all over again, yet this time, the pain your experiencing is caused by longing. Not because of something so unpleasant, but because of something beautiful. Beautiful, despite being so painful. You pass by many people on the way back, patient and worker alike. You wished you'd pass by a man with a purple bowlcut instead.

You arrived to your own quarters and just collapsit, headfirst on the hospital bed, burrying rour face onto the pillow. It smelled alcholic, to much chemicals used to cleanse it. You inhaled a breath full despite it, the smell left a blazing path in your nostrils, on their way to Polute your lungs. You laid back up right, now met with the pristine material of the crystal white ceiling. Why does every hospital have to be white? Its always so blinding. Not to mention your now having a staring contest with the very source of light in the room, that antagonizing light bulb. It'll turn off automatically at a certain time, but you want it to close now. The darkness was always your comfort, there you were able to lay yourself bare without anyone having to see you.

Your mind wanders back to Hoshina, it seems he put a leash on you as to why you keep thinking about him for more than a normal amount for just a day. You dont wanna be where you cant see him, you wanna hear his sickenly joyous voice and his flashing smile that outshines even the farthest of stars, you wanna talk nonsense with him again, his nonsense never failed to Lift the corners of your mouth to a smile. And you will, tomorrow.

Tomorrow, 8 am. Thats the time you've both agreed upon. Usually, you wouldn't get up until late in the afternoon, just rotting on your bed, the walls would always cave in and the atmosphere was suffocating. You never got up. There was no good reason to, you almost convinced yourself to throw all common sense and self hygiene out the window and just get buried rotting on your bed. Because every time you'd get up, it feels like every misfortune of the whole globe are dumped on your shoulders. It weighs you down, it weighs you back on that sickenly sweet mattress and there you stay there until the next blue moon.

But now, you want to drift to sleep faster and when you wake, your ready to meet Hoshina again. Your so eager to see him, it cant be controlled. His face is the only thing you'd never get tired of. You think its hilarious, you've only met him but you were sure he could mean more. This isn't just some high school crush, your confident about your feelings towards him for you've never felt something this intense your whole uears of living. Not even your longing of death can overrun this feeling. You sew your eyes tight, seeing only pitch black, all this so you could finally sleep and who knows? Maybe even see him in the phantasms of your unconscious state of mind. Thats how low you've stooped. You'll sleep so you can see him faster, you dont like waiting long.

Eventually, you do fall asleep. But not Hoshina. Yes, he's still awake, in his own room, fresh bandages wrapped around his injuries he got from fighting. And yes, if your wondering, hes thinking about you to. He yearns to be in your presence as well, almost as much as you. He doesn't know why. He talks with everyone like that, but he's enjoyed his time with you exceedengly more. Hoshina has been put aside his whole life, all because of his talent and preference for blades over guns. Just because of one measly difference, he was treated differently and looked down upon. But with you, he felt cherished. Its a first for Hoshina to not get judged by first meeting. He doesn't have to train hard or change anything to impress you, it'll come naturally. Hoshina turns around on the matress, facing the window so the ripe rays of the moonlight slapped on his face in result. 'I wants to see her again' was the last thing he talked about before falling asleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Its 6 in the morning and your half awake. You woke up to early, just how excited are you? But its not a good thing that theres still alot of time before the agreed upon time. You just know that the next 2 hours will double tenfold when waiting to see Hoshina again. Your not a morning person, not at all. Your regular routine is not for the faint of heart. If some woke up at 6am, you'd be turning off Your phone and tucking yourself to bed. So your shocked by your eagerness to see him, to the point where you'll try to get better. Your convinced Hoshina has hit you with a pan, because your aacting absolutelyInsane.

You brush your teeth and hair, and thoroughly clean your bruises as to the doctors said. You wonder when you gonna get discharged but thats for later, dear reader. You dread the fact that you have to wear that awful hospital gown again, but alas, it is required. You try to look as presentable as you can. You usually wouldnt bother putting effort in your physical appearance, but you figured it would be nice for once. You were sat on a chair, waiting impatiently like a child waiting for they're treat. You were milimeters close to just turning the Whole building upside down just so you can see Hoshina.

So imagine how excited you were when the clock had acutely hit the digit 8. The minute it did, you were busting out of the room, with your injured leg by the way. The pain had seemingly went away and healed, or it was Just overpowered by your giddyness that your nerves didn't have the space to make up for physical pain. So here you were, dragging yourself across these hallways once again. You passed by that same old lady on a wheel chair that you did yesterday. She gave you a judging face back then, which a wasn't such rare occurrence, you were used to having such glares dumped upon the entirety of your shameful being. But now you wondered if she found any difference, between the walking dead body you were yesterday and the eestatic, hungry, affection driven limp you are now.

Whilst you were rushing like you were catching up to a work deadline, he was enjoying his walk through these glossy, hauntingly white hallways. Taking each step according to the comfort of his legs, hands crossed on the broadness of his chest as he struts the hallway. Soshiro Hoshina has always been scary great at maintaining his composure. Those under his wing back at the third division are well aware of it, they have front row seats to how he switches from acting all goofy to having a stoic face in a matter of miliseconds, they even kidded around about how his control over his expressions is the work of witchcraft. However, don't be fooled by his calm demeanor, he's excited to see you as well. But as Vice-captain, it wouldn't be very ideal to him if he just jogged as fast as he can in patient filled hhallway. Hoshina disciplined himself to the bone, he wont let up now.

After what seemed like an eternity of turning corners and navigating his way through these hallways, Hoshina finally sees sight of the cafeteria. He steps in, and the homogenous smell of the food slaps him in the face. If he was weird enough to concentrate and differentiate the aroma, he probably can guess whats on the menu for today. Hoshina wastes no time in trying to find your presence, your presence in which he couldn't get enough of yesterday. His head startes whipping around, turning left to right, right to left in search of a peek of your appearance. He was baffled to say the least, shocked at the population of the people present here this morning. He wants to see you, asap. He started walking to those with even with the slightest resemblance of what your physical appearance looks like, in hopes that it would be you. He saw someone with the same hair color as yours, kinda fooled him there for a brief second. He just kept circling around the vastful room, so distracted in finding you. He doesn't wanna merely sit down and wait, conclude that your not here yet and he should just sit tight. Scarlet eyes scanned the whole cafeteria, but eyes always had blindspots where they provided no visuals, thats why he didn't notice your presence coming up from his south.

You tapped his shoulder from behind.

He doesn't think hes ever whipped his head back that fast his whole life. Hoshina turned his head so urgently he swears he heard a subtle pop in his neck. Upon seeing the sight of your face, he was 'joyous', actually thats underwhelming what Hoshina was feeling at the moment, he was euphoric. His skin feels like its being roasted and his lungs are short of gas. He feels weird, he doesn't know what to do or what to say so hoshina just stood there agape. You didn't move a muscle either, mouth zipped shut with no intention of letting put any sort of noise in fear that he'd back away. You didn't dare try to make a distance, everything else caved in, nothing else mattered, just the one in front of you. He looked so right, and by that you dont mean he's handsome (although he surely is very attractive). By 'right' you mean you'd never get tired of his appearance.

Hoshina Soshiro, to you, is the finest work of art exhibited in museum of life, the most astounding creation of matter you've laid your eyes upon.

Oh shit, you like him, the Hoshina Soshiro.

[anniebeemine]

dont have a specific request but im obsessed with singer!reader and spencer if u are inspired to write any more of them <3 such a dreamy au… maybe some hurt comfort if ur feeling evil <3

oh I am always feeling evil hehehe

Part One

warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, ghosting, and a lil bit of relationship troubles

To say your life changed after releasing your last single was an understatement.

The sexual undertones in the lyrics had seemed like a good idea at the time, a bold way to express your love for Spencer. It was meant to be intimate, a tribute to the depth of your connection—a way to immortalize the passion that existed between you both. But the weekend after its release, everything began to shift, as if a fault line had cracked open beneath your already fragile relationship.

Spencer had seemed distant almost immediately. At first, you attributed it to the case he was working on—duty had dragged him away from your release party at the last minute, and you understood. You always understood. His work was important, lives depended on him, and you’d grown used to the unpredictable nature of his schedule. But this time, something felt different. It wasn’t just the case pulling him away, but something deeper, something that nagged at your heart in the quiet moments when you were alone.

You tried not to think about it too much. After all, you were busy too. The sudden success of your single had launched you into a whirlwind of appearances and performances. Late-night shows, pop-up concerts, interviews—you were everywhere, all the time. Your schedule was a relentless, unforgiving beast, one that demanded every ounce of your energy. You didn’t have time to worry about the growing distance between you and Spencer; you were too busy trying to keep up with the pace of your newfound popularity.

But the distance only grew. Spencer called once, late at night, but you had to deny his call. You were on vocal rest, your voice tired and strained from hours of performing. You’d wanted to talk to him, desperately, but your team had insisted you save your voice. So you sent him a text instead, apologizing and promising to call him back the next day. But the next day came and went, and you never got the chance. There was always something—another show, another interview, another commitment that kept you from reaching out.

As the days turned into weeks, the silence between you and Spencer became unbearable. You missed him, more than you could put into words. But every time you tried to bridge the gap, something got in the way. The fault line between you widened with each passing day, and you were powerless to stop it. One evening, as you sat alone in your hotel room after yet another exhausting performance, the weight of it all came crashing down on you. You stared at your phone, your fingers hovering over Spencer’s name in your contacts. You wanted to call him, to hear his voice, to remind yourself that he was still there, still yours. But something held you back. Fear, maybe. Fear that he wouldn’t pick up, or worse, that he would, and you’d hear the same cold distance in his voice that had been there the last time you spoke.

You couldn’t bear the thought, so you didn’t call. Instead, you curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. You were supposed to be on top of the world right now, riding the high of your success. But all you felt was empty, hollowed out by the loss of the one person who mattered most to you. And so, you lay there, in the dark, wondering if the distance between you and Spencer was something you could ever close—or if it had grown too wide to bridge, leaving you both stranded on opposite sides of a love that had once seemed unbreakable.

Spencer, on the other hand, hadn’t reached out much because he knew you. He knew how you got before performances and appearances—how your knees would get shaky and your hands would tremble with nerves. He knew that despite the confidence you projected on stage, there was a vulnerability underneath that you rarely let anyone see. You were always so focused, so driven, and he didn’t want to add to the pressure by inserting himself into your whirlwind of responsibilities.

He remembers the first time he’d seen it, how you’d clutched the microphone so tightly backstage that your knuckles had turned white. He’d been there for you then, whispering reassuring words, grounding you when your anxiety threatened to overwhelm you. It was a smaller venue, some little bar turned venue for the night. But now, with the world demanding so much of you, he felt guilty for not being there, for not calling as much as he wanted to. He rationalized that he was giving you space, letting you focus, because he knew you’d need every ounce of concentration to navigate the chaos that came with fame. But every time he glanced at his phone and saw your name, guilt gnawed at him. He knew you, knew how deeply you felt things, how you internalized your emotions, often hiding them from everyone, including him. He wondered if you thought he was pulling away, if you were questioning his feelings because of his silence. But then he’d tell himself that you knew better, that you knew he loved you, even if he wasn’t constantly reminding you.

You’d been through so much together, enough that he believed your bond was strong enough to withstand this. He trusted that you understood his reasons, even if they were unspoken. He trusted that you knew he was giving you room to breathe, to shine, without the added weight of his presence or expectations. And he trusted that when you both finally had the time to reconnect, things would fall back into place, as they always had. But the doubt lingered, creeping in late at night when he was alone in his hotel room or his apartment, replaying the last conversation you’d had over the phone. It had been brief, just a few minutes of small talk before you had to rest your voice yet again. He could hear the exhaustion in your tone, the weariness that came from giving so much of yourself to everyone else. And he wanted to be there for you, to hold you and let you lean on him, but he couldn’t. He had to rely on the belief that you understood, that you knew he was thinking of you, even if he wasn’t physically there.

Every time his phone buzzed with another text from you, apologizing for not calling, explaining that you were too tired, he felt a pang of guilt. You shouldn’t have to apologize. He knew how much was on your plate, and he wished he could lighten the load. But all he could do was reassure you through text messages and the occasional call, reminding you that he was there, even if only in spirit.

And so, Spencer waited. He waited for the moment when the dust would settle, when your schedule would calm down enough for you both to reconnect. He waited for the chance to see you again, to hold you close and remind you just how much he loved you. He waited because he believed in you, in your relationship, in the unspoken understanding that had always existed between you. But as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he should have reached out more. If he should have pushed through his own insecurities and made more of an effort to stay connected. Because while he knew you understood, he also knew that even the strongest bonds could fray when left unattended for too long. And he didn’t want to risk losing you—not now, not ever.

Spencer sat at his desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he stared at the flight details on the screen. His mind raced with thoughts of you, how much he missed the sound of your voice, the warmth of your presence, and the way you always seemed to know exactly what he needed, even before he did. It had been too long since he’d last seen you, and with every passing day, the distance between you felt more like a chasm than a few hundred miles.

He was done waiting, done trying to convince himself that giving you space was the right thing to do. You needed him, and he needed to be there for you. Without hesitation, he started booking the next flight out to the city you were set to perform in. The thought of surprising you, of showing up at your door and wrapping you in his arms, filled him with a sense of urgency and determination.

His heart pounded as he filled in the final details, ready to confirm the purchase. Just as he was about to click the button, his phone rang. The familiar tone of his team’s ringtone cut through the air, shattering the moment. He hesitated, glancing at the screen to see who it was.

It was Hotch.

For a split second, he considered ignoring the call, letting it go to voicemail so he could finish what he’d started. But his sense of duty, the commitment to his job and his team, wouldn’t let him. With a sigh, he picked up the phone.

Spencer’s heart sank. He knew what this meant. The flight would have to wait, the surprise visit postponed. He’d have to push his own needs aside, once again, to focus on his job.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said, his voice flat.

As he hung up, he stared at the screen, the cursor still hovering over the confirm button. With a heavy heart, he closed the browser. There would be no flight tonight, no last-minute trip to see you. The guilt gnawed at him, the weight of the missed opportunity settling in his chest.

Meanwhile, across the miles, you sat alone in your hotel room, staring at the blank notification screen on your phone. You’d been waiting for his call, for some sign that he was thinking of you as much as you were thinking of him. But the silence stretched on, deafening in its intensity. The calls had become less frequent, the messages shorter, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end.

You’d tried to brush off the nagging doubts, telling yourself that he was busy, that he still cared. But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between you felt less like a temporary inconvenience and more like a growing divide. You missed him, missed the way he used to be there for you, the way he used to make you feel like the most important person in the world. With every unanswered call, every unreturned message, it was becoming harder to believe that things would ever go back to the way they were. Maybe he was pulling away because he’d realized that your lives were moving in different directions. Maybe he was letting you go, bit by bit, without ever saying the words out loud.

The thought made your chest ache, a sharp pain that you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to reach out to him, to ask him if he was still there, still invested in what you had. But the fear of hearing what you didn’t want to kept you silent. You didn’t want to push him away by asking for too much, by demanding more than he was willing to give.

So, you sat there in that hotel room, feeling the weight of the silence between you. You told yourself that you were overreacting, that he was just busy, that things would be okay. But deep down, a small voice whispered that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of the end.

And as the hours ticked by, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious was slipping away, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

+++

The minutes felt like hours as you sat backstage, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn't control. The sparkly jumpsuit you wore felt heavy against your skin, the bedazzled sleeves suddenly suffocating and itchy. Your hair had been styled to perfection, your makeup painstakingly applied, but it all felt like a mask—one you were struggling to hold together.

You bent over, clutching your stomach as the tears welled up, desperate not to ruin the carefully crafted look. The air around you seemed to grow thinner with each passing second, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps. The walls of the dressing room felt like they were closing in, the noise from the stage beyond the door distant and muffled, as though you were underwater.

It was happening again, that creeping sensation of panic that had been your unwelcome companion ever since your life had taken this turn. Your vision blurred, and you blinked rapidly to clear it, but the edges of your sight remained fuzzy, the lights too bright, too harsh. Your hands trembled as you pressed them against your knees, trying to ground yourself, trying to keep from losing it completely.

But it was no use. The song you were about to perform—the song that had once been a testament to the love you shared with Spencer—now felt like a cruel joke. The lyrics were seared into your mind, each word a painful reminder of how things had changed, of the distance that had grown between you. What had once been a celebration of your love now brought up a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, a knot that tightened with every passing moment.

You couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not when everything felt so wrong.

With shaking hands, you pulled out your phone and dialed Spencer’s number, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. The call rang once, twice, and then, mercifully, he picked up.

“Spencer?” you choked out, your voice breaking as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Please… I need to talk to you.”

There was a pause on the other end, long enough to make your heart sink further, before Spencer’s voice came through, soft and steady. “Hold on,” he said, and then the line went dead.

You stared at the phone in disbelief, the world tilting on its axis. He hadn’t even tried to say anything more, hadn’t offered any comfort. It felt like a confirmation of your worst fears—that he was done, that you were on your own now. Your chest tightened painfully, and you knew you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t go out there and perform a song that had become a lie. You were on the verge of calling it off, of telling everyone that you were done for the night, when the door to your dressing room flew open. Spencer burst through, his hair disheveled, his face flushed with urgency. A security guard was hot on his heels, trying to get him to stop, but your manager waved him off, herding everyone out of the room to give you both some privacy.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as Spencer crossed the room, his eyes locking onto yours with a look of pure determination. You barely had time to register what was happening before he was there, in front of you, his hands reaching out to cup your face, wiping away the tears that had already started to fall.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “I’m here. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m here now.”

The dam broke, and the sobs you’d been holding back came pouring out. You collapsed into his arms, burying your face in his chest as he held you close, his arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. The panic that had been clawing at your throat began to ease, replaced by the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours.

“I didn’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

“Of course I care,” Spencer said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been going crazy not being with you, not hearing your voice. I’ve been so stupid, thinking that giving you space was the right thing to do. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your vision still blurred with tears, but for the first time in weeks, there was a glimmer of hope. “You mean that?”

“I mean it,” he said, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “I love you, and I’m not going to let anything come between us. Not my job, not your career—nothing.”

A shaky breath escaped you, and you nodded, feeling the tension in your chest finally start to loosen. “I love you too, Spencer. I’m just… scared.”

“I know,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “But you don’t have to be. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

You nodded again, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Okay.”

Spencer smiled back, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like everything might actually be okay. The storm that had been raging inside you began to calm, and with Spencer by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

Spencer held you close for a moment longer, his embrace firm but gentle, grounding you in a way that made the world feel less chaotic. Slowly, he pulled back and looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with warmth and understanding. He reached up to gently wipe away the remnants of your tears, his fingers tender against your skin.

"Let me tell you something," he said softly, his voice like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Did you know that this city has a history of resilience? It’s seen so much—fire, storms, all kinds of upheavals—and yet it’s always come back stronger. Every building, every street, carries a story of overcoming challenges. It's like the people here refuse to be beaten down, no matter what."

His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, the tension in your shoulders beginning to melt away. Spencer’s voice was steady, reassuring, as he continued to speak, telling you about the city’s history with a calm passion that you had always admired. He traced the lines of your face with his thumb, wiping away the streaks of mascara and eyeliner that had run with your tears.

“And you’re just like that,” he continued, his tone filled with quiet conviction. “You’ve faced so much, yet here you are, still standing, still shining. That’s what makes you strong, and it’s why I know you’ll get through this too.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in, feeling the warmth of his love and belief in you. When you opened your eyes again, you found Spencer watching you with a gentle smile, his gaze full of admiration. The anxiety that had gripped you so tightly just moments ago had loosened its hold, replaced by a sense of calm and resolve.

“I think…” you began, your voice barely a whisper, “I think I want to do this. But not like this.” You gestured to your sparkly jumpsuit, the heavy makeup that had been meticulously applied now smudged and streaked. It had never been part of your image anyway, management just needed something to make you stand out.

Spencer’s eyes searched yours, understanding dawning as he nodded. “You don’t need all this,” he said, echoing your unspoken thoughts. “Just be you. That’s all anyone really wants to see.”

With newfound determination, you took a deep breath and stood up, Spencer’s hand steadying you as you did. You reached for the tissues on the vanity and started wiping away the rest of the makeup, the motions steady and sure now, no longer hurried or frantic. Spencer watched you quietly, his presence a comforting constant as you removed each layer until your face was bare, fresh, and free.

The sparkly jumpsuit was next. You slipped out of it, changing into the simple, comfortable clothes you had worn earlier in the day—a soft sweater and jeans that felt like home. Spencer stood by, giving you the space you needed but never straying far, his presence a silent reassurance.

When you were ready, you turned to him, your heart racing in a different way now—a mix of nerves and excitement, but no longer fear. “Just me," you said, your voice firm.

Spencer’s smile widened, a look of pride shining in his eyes. “You’re going to be amazing,” he said, his words filled with sincerity. “I’ll be right there, in the front row, cheering you on.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. Together, you made your way out of the dressing room and toward the stage. As you walked, Spencer continued to talk to you in that soothing, steady voice, telling you more about the city, about its people, their stories, all the while keeping your mind focused and calm.

When you reached the stage, the crew was a little surprised to see you in your plain clothes, makeup-free, but they quickly adjusted, respecting your choice without question. Spencer gave your hand one last squeeze before he moved to take his seat in the audience, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you stepped out onto the stage, the lights dimming and the music beginning, you found Spencer’s face in the crowd. He was right there, exactly where he promised he would be, his expression full of encouragement and love. The words to the song came naturally, but this time, they felt different. They weren’t just lyrics anymore; they were a part of you, a reflection of everything you had been through, everything you were still standing for. Your eyes stayed locked on Spencer’s as you sang, the connection between you palpable even across the space. The crowd faded into the background, their presence a distant hum compared to the light in his eyes. Every note, every word, was for him, and in that moment, you felt free—free to be yourself, free to love, free to embrace the strength Spencer had reminded you was always there.

As the final note lingered in the air, the applause erupted around you, a thunderous wave of sound that filled the entire venue.

Without thinking, without even acknowledging the cheering crowd, you ran off the stage, your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Spencer was already on his feet, weaving his way through the crowd toward you, his eyes wide with anticipation.

You reached him in what felt like an instant, the distance between you vanishing in a heartbeat. The moment you were close enough, you practically jumped into his arms, your momentum knocking the breath out of both of you. Spencer’s arms snaked around your waist, holding you tightly against him as if he never wanted to let go.

His familiar scent enveloped you, grounding you even as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, the rest of the world fading away as the connection between you pulsed with intensity.

Before you could think twice, you leaned in and kissed him, your lips meeting his in a rush of passion and relief. The kiss was everything you had been holding back, all the words you hadn’t said, the fears and the love all tangled up in one fierce, desperate embrace. Spencer kissed you back with equal fervor, his hands pressing into your lower back as if to fuse you both together, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

The noise of the crowd dimmed in your ears, the rest of the room a blur as you lost yourself in the moment. It was just you and Spencer, the rest of the world forgotten, your hearts beating in sync.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, it was only then that you noticed the cameras. They were pointed directly at you, capturing the entire scene—the kiss, the embrace, the love written all over both of your faces. The realization hit you like a shock of cold water, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Spencer’s hands moved to cup your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, a small, shaky laugh escaping your lips. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The cameras continued to click, the flashes lighting up the space around you, but none of it mattered. You leaned in to press your forehead against Spencer’s, closing your eyes and letting the world see what it had only been hinted at before.

Your relationship was no longer a secret, no longer something to be hidden away. The world now knew what you had been quietly cherishing all along—that you were in love, deeply, truly, and unapologetically.

And as Spencer’s arms tightened around you, holding you close, you knew that no matter what came next, you were ready to face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart, just as it had always been.

[schlattslambo]

haikyuu boys with a chubby!s/o

includes: tsukishima, bokuto, osamu (ft a sprinkle of atsumu) ushijima (tendo makes an appearance)

lots of fluff!! some angst in tsukki’s, but that cant really be helped mans a jerk sometimes. TW FOR NEGATIVE BODY IMAGE. this WILL have mentions of a bad relationship with food, so PLEASE read with caution if that effects you.

reader is gn, but is called gorgeous

kind of a self indulgent blurb tbh

seeing you insecure is one of his least favorite things. seeing you cry is the worst. putting them together? oh boy, he’s ready to fight

=============================

tsukishima spots you eating with hinata and kageyama, stuffing a meat bun into your mouth with a smile. the boys had brought home another nationals win, and you were all having a get together at daichi’s place. tsukishima sits down across from you, smirking.

“god, y/n, you’re such a fatass.”

the words leave his lips easily, and you want to spit out your food. you notice everyone’s eyes on you, and you try and get the meat bun down as fast as you can. you know tsukishima can be a jerk with his little comments, but there was no remorse after this. even after being together, his comments would still sting, even though he didnt mean for them to. but what did change was his apology afterwards if he noticed that he hurt you.

you dont speak for the remainder of the party. you just sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone. you were waiting for tsukishima’s apology, but it never came. surely he had seen your reaction.

“y/n, you ready to go?” tsukishima’s voice cuts through your thoughts. you nod silently, walking home with him.

it doesnt hit him until you’re in bed before him, facing the wall in one of your pajama shirts. not his. usually when the two of you come home from parties, you spend some time together. getting into bed, tsukishima moves to pull you close, hands on your tummy where they usually rest. you tense.

“hey, what gives?” tsukishima asks, propping himself up on his elbow. “you dont wanna cuddle?”

you shake your head, blinking back tears. tsukishima is about to flop back down when he hears a sniffle.

“y/n?” he asks, voice softer. “are you okay?”

“no.”

your voice sounds so broken, making tsukishima sigh softly. he gently wraps his arms around you.

“i’m sorry for what i said.” he says gently. “i didnt mean to hurt you. i was going to apologize sooner but dumb and dumber pulled me away.”

you sniffle again, wiping your eyes. “it’s fine.” you mumble.

“love, its not fine.” tsukishima sighs. “you know i love you more than anything in this world. i never mean to hurt you with my comments. i know your weight is a sensitive subject for you, and i’m sorry. if you want, i can sleep on the couch tonight.”

when you don’t respond, tsukishima goes to grab the spare blanket and pillow for when he makes a particularly snide comment and you dont want to speak to him. you sit up, looking at him. your cheeks are streaked with tears and your nose is slightly red.

“don’t go.” you say softly. “i love you.”

tsukishima gets into bed, pulling you close. he places a gentle kiss on your forehead, closing his eyes.

“again, i’m sorry for hurting you, y/n.” he says softly. “you’re absolutely amazing and perfect, and i cant believe that you’d love a jerk like me. i’m so thankful to have you in my life.”

you thank the alcohol for letting tsukishima be slightly more open with his emotions. he never spoke like that unless he was drunk, but he showed his love for you in different ways, like sharing his strawberry shortcake with you.

there are two constants in tsukishima’s life: his love for strawberry shortcake, and his love for you.

***

bokuto is a people person, through and through. he loves the attention, and he cant get enough of the fans swooning over him. until you came along, he was nearly overwhelmed by all the attention.

with you in his life now, he wasnt sure how he survived before. having someone in his life that was a constant, seeing him at his lowest points and helping lift him up, was honestly so crazy to him. he loves you more than he loves volleyball, and thats the love of his life.

after a particularly good game against shiratorizawa, bokuto is flocked by attractive looking fans. before he can even get to you to receive his post game you-did-amazing-kiss, he was pulled in several different directions for questions. you didnt really mind it if you were honest. dating bokuto came with him talking to fans before going to kiss you after a game, and you were fine with that.

a few attractive girls walked up to bokuto, giggling at him, asking for pictures, the usual.

“oh bo, are you single? i would love to date you!” one of the girls said, swooning in front of bokuto.

“i’m sorry ladies, but i’m taken! i’m dating y/n and i love them!” bokuto was proud. he was so proud that he can call you his.

“y/n??” another girl cackled. “but bo, you’re so strong and muscular and attractive! how can you be dating someone thats so fat??”

fat. the word echoed in your ears as the girls all turned and giggled at you. you were a bit chubby, sure, but it only bothered you sometimes. like now, when you looked at all of the thinner girls and figured that bokuto would be happier with them.

“i’ll see you at home kou!” you call, giving bokuto your best fake smile. “i’m gonna make us some dinner!”

bokuto knew that something was wrong, that he needed to stop you, but he got pulled back to do an interview.

when he finally gets home, he finds you looking in the mirror, tears streaming down your face as you look at yourself. to you, you look hideous. a chubby stomach, too thick thighs. you hate it.

bokuto walks up behind you and hugs you tightly. it takes him a moment to realize that you’re crying, so he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“whats the matter bub?” he asks sweetly.

“i’m too fat.” you whimper. “there’s so many other people that are more attractive than me. you can do so much better.”

bokuto is shocked. you’d never brought this up before. what happened that made you feel so negatively about yourself? you’re wonderful!

he finds himself laughing in spite of himself. him? find someone better than YOU? no chance.

“little owl, you’re one of the most gorgeous human beings i have ever met. loving you has been such a privilege and i’m honored to be your boyfriend.” he says, wrapping his arms around you. “you are the light in my life on dark days. you make me smile like nobody else can. your brain being mean is not a reflection of that. you have some chub, so what? you’re so beautiful and wonderful and i cannot believe you’re mine.”

by the time bokuto is done, you’re crying even more. he takes this as a sign to take it up a notch. he knows that you might not be crying from sadness anymore, but you aren’t smiling just yet.

“are you insecure about this?” bokuto asks, gently holding your tummy. “this adorable thing? what about this?”

he goes around, gripping your thighs, your arms, and even your butt. by the time he’s done, you’re laughing. you turn around and hug bokuto, who you have just realized has not taken a shower yet, and smile.

“thank you kou.” you say, softly kissing his cheek. “i love you so much.”

bokuto smiles, returning your kiss. he’s happy that you’re smiling again, and makes sure that you know that he’s not above making an ass of himself just to see you smile.

***

osamu’s love language is service and gifts. he loves making you food, letting you try new menu items before he puts them out, and is generally just a big foodie (duh). it’s natural that he’d have a slightly bigger partner because of his time working at onigiri miya. he’s gotta have someone comfortable with eating some of the concoctions that he makes.

you sit on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs happily as you watch osamu cook. he’s in his element, humming along to the soft music that he has playing. he’s making you a new dish to try, slightly nervous because he’s the most excited about it.

“okay love,” he says, placing a plate next to you. “go ahead.”

you pick up the rice ball, which is shaped like an actual ball and covered in a sweet dark sauce, and lift it to your lips. you sigh, content with how absolutely delicious it is.

“baby this is amazing!” you say, noticing osamu’s nervous expression.

osamu sighs with a smile, kissing your temple. “can i take a picture for the onigiri miya instagram page?” he asks against your skin.

you pose, smiling sweetly as you hold up the newest menu item. osamu snaps the picture, uploading it with a smile.

“you’re so adorable.” he says, hugging you. “still cant believe you’re mine.”

you smile, pecking his cheek. it’s weird, being doted on like this. you know that he and atsumu have been super competitive all their lives, and you knew that osamu almost never got the girls. it was always atsumu. you never knew why; he was such a sweetheart. he always took care of you, made sure that you never went hungry, gave you kisses and snuggles, and give you pleasure that you didnt even know you could experience.

osamu’s phone buzzed on the counter, dozens of notifications coming from people commenting and liking the post. you glance over, reading the first comment you see:

osamufan81615: wow, i cant believe how big y/n’s gotten! lay off the food my dude XD

you freeze, opening your phone to look at the comments. you notice that a few of the comments are harsher than usual, and all of the mean comments are directed towards you. more specifically, your weight. you find yourself getting lost in the comments, nearly getting physically sick at how rude some people could be.

osamu was observant. he watched your entire aura change as you scrolled on your phone. he took it out of your hands, wrapping his arms around you. he scooped you up from the counter, walking with your legs wrapped around his waist until he sat on the couch.

you cant help but sniffle, rereading some of the comments in your mind. you go to move off of osamu’s lap, but he holds you tighter.

“don’t listen to ‘em.” he says softly. “you are so amazing and so much more than whatever weight you are. you’re mine, and that’s all i could ever want. i love you as you are, and dont let some idiots get ya down.”

he strokes your hair, trailing his hand down your back just how you like. the two of you sit silently for a bit, your head on osamu’s shoulder.

“love you ‘samu.” you mumble quietly against his neck.

osamu’s phone buzzed with a text, undoubtedly from atsumu. osamu pushed his phone away until atsumu called him, making osamu groan. you giggled.

“what do ya want, ya pest?” osamu groaned.

“do ya see how they’re treating y/n in the comments on your most recent post??” atsumu all but yells. “i’ve been replying to comments for the past 15 minutes telling ‘em to lay off.”

“i have. i’m letting them get their 15 minutes of fame.” osamu replied. “i’m comforting y/n right now because the comments are getting to them.”

“i told one of them that they look like their family tree is a circle.” atsumu said, a smile clear in his voice. you couldnt help but laugh.

“thanks bro.” osamu said, a smile on his face as well. “i’ll let you keep harassing em, i got more important matters to attend to.”

hanging up the phone, osamu leans over and kisses you. he peppers kisses on your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. you shiver, gasping when he sucks on your neck.

“how about we go upstairs and i help you forget about all those idiots and show you how much you mean to me, hm?”

you cant help but nod. the new menu item is put up the following week, and osamu really drives home the fact that you are perfect just the way you are by letting you ride him for hours the night of the menu’s new debut.

***

ushijima wakatoshi. a strong, stoic man who barely speaks two words on the court unless he’s really riled up. dating the top ace in the country comes with long nights where he stays out after winning a big game, being stopped on the street, and countless interviews. it also came with him worshiping the ground you walked on.

“toshi, what do you think of this one?” you ask, opening the dressing room door.

your figure is hugged by a sparkly red outfit, accentuating your curves perfectly. ushijima sits up straight, eyes nearly bulging out of his face.

“thats the one.” he says.

you cant help but giggle. you were invited to attend a banquet dinner, black tie only, with the team. you had no outfits that were fancy enough for the occasion, so ushijima insisted he buy something for you.

walking to the register, you hold ushijima’s hand with a smile. the cashier made some small talk while she scanned and bagged the items of your outfit.

“i do have to say, im a very big fan of yours wakatoshi.” she said, giving a sweet smile to your boyfriend. “congratulations on your big win.”

usually, whenever you two went to the store together, the cashier would make a big deal out of talking to ushijima. this lady was a very pleasant change.

“thank you, miss.” ushijima replied with a smile.

later that night, you walked into the banquet, holding ushijima’s hand with a smile. there were photographers everywhere, and you were almost blinded by the flashes of all the cameras.

sitting down at a table with tendo and goshiki, you give them both a smile.

“hey boys.” you greet.

“hi y/n!” goshiki says, sitting up straight. “you look wonderful tonight!”

you smile. “thank you tsu.”

goshiki has had a thing for you for so long, that you’re sure if you werent dating anyone, he’d be trying to get with you. ushijima places a hand on your thigh, rubbing it with his thumb gently.

as the evening progressed, there were more and more interviews being done. ushijima was being interviewed by a taller, attractive woman, who was clearly flirting with him.

“so, wakatoshi, whats your workout routine look like?” she asks, smiling as she pushes some hair behind her ear. “i know a hunk such as yourself has to have a staple in his routine.”

“i enjoy running.” ushijima starts. “i also tend to focus on weight lifting when i dont do cardio.”

“do you have a workout partner?”

ushijima nods. “yes, my partner y/n.” he says, a smile growing on his lips.

“y/n?” the interviewer asks, a hint of disgust in her voice. “are they the chubby one following you around tonight? they don’t seem to be that good of a workout partner to me.”

tendo’s ear twitched while talking to you, his attention quickly turning to ushijima and the pest speaking with him.

“they are very encouraging.” ushijima continues. “i enjoy their company while lifting weights.”

“well, maybe you need someone,” the lady clears her throat. “…thinner to help you. y/n is practically spilling out of that outfit they’re in.”

“thats it.” tendo says, getting up.

you heard the entire thing. the woman was set on tearing you down, but ushijima was, as usual, telling her how amazing you were. you were slightly tearing up at the final comment.

tendo grabs your wrist gently, pulling you to ushijima. he knew that ushijima wasnt one for confrontation, but tendo was more than happy to go off on someone in his place. you wipe your misty eyes as you follow.

“actually,” tendo squints, looking at the name sticker on the lady’s jacket. “aiko, is it? i know my buddy toshi here wont say it, but i will. putting someone down because you wish you were in their place is very ugly. ushijima is with y/n because he loves them. all there is to it.”

“this interview is over.” ushijima says, turning to you. “i’m sorry babe, lets go get something to drink.”

you glance over at the lady, giving her a nice smile before you walk away.

“lets go get trashed!!!” tendo yells, allowing a chorus of cheers from the other teammates to fill the banquet hall.

as you can tell, this was a LONG one. lowercase is intended, and this was done while sitting at work, so i hope you enjoy.

and no matter what your weight, you are beautiful and deserve love ❤️

[cloudcountry]

EVENT TIME???? c. can i. can i um. so hear me out rfa party but theres mistletoe and um. yoosung. is this a cliche prompt yes but i DONT CARE

also apologies if i read the dates wrong !! i am blind and if im sending this too early then i apologize <333

SUMMARY: You can tell the RFA planned something for you and Yoosung. You're just waiting for him to make a move.

WARNINGS : none!! :D

COMMENTS: mistletoe kisses will ALWAYS be so cute DONT EVEN WORRY

Something is off.

You’re happy the preparations for the RFA party are going well, especially since it’s the last one of the year. A banquet of winter-themed desserts and savory snacks had been set out to the side, along with festival centerpieces on each table.

There had even been mistletoe hung around the room, much to Jaehee’s chagrin—she believed it was too unprofessional, and you were inclined to agree with her. But in this world, majority rules, and with Zen, Yoosung, and Saeyoung wanting to keep the mistletoe up and Jumin abstaining, they stayed.

But that wasn’t the part that was bothering you.

What was bothering you were the probing looks both Zen and Saeyoung had been sending you the whole party, and how Yoosung had been avoiding you entirely.

You weren’t dense. You had a feeling it had something to do with the mistletoe and the crush you’d long suspected he’d harbored for you, but he was still mourning Rika and you didn’t want to seem arrogant by asking him something as bold as that.

And so, you kept it to yourself.

Soon enough, Jaehee goes to get the guests and Jumin follows her. Zen goes to talk to the press, and Saeyoung leaves to go meet the Long Cat meme he asked you to invite. Before you know it, you’re left alone with Yoosung, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find some twisted enjoyment in watching him squirm.

“Hey, uh...would you like to head over and grab some drinks?” Yoosung asks, pink dusting his cheeks as he jabs his thumb towards the banquet table.

Giving him your best winning smile, you nod.

“Sure, Yoosung.” you say, linking your arm with his and allowing him to guide you over.

Once again, you aren’t dense. You can clearly see the mistletoe hanging above the end of the banquet table that has all the drinks, and you don’t miss the shake in Yoosung’s arm either. He shakes even after you’re both standing directly under it, even after he's poured you a drink, and even after you’ve poured his (both of you had insisted—if any of the other members were around you, you’re certain they would have teased Yoosung.)

But you know him. And you know his confession is imminent, and that he will tell you how he feels when he’s ready.

Patience is key.

And that patience pays off when he whispers your name.

Suddenly, it's like the rest of the party disappears, because Yoosung has set down his drink and you’ve set down yours because you know, and he’s slowly taking your hands in his and staring at your intertwined fingers because he can’t look at you.

“Would you like to kiss under the mistletoe?” he asks, eyes finally meeting yours, and on his face you see his bashful, boyish smile.

“Of course. I thought you’d never ask.” you beam, and before he can allow the shock of you reciprocating to get to him, you kiss him right on the mouth, guiding his clumsy lips as they fumble over yours.

Yoosung doesn’t know how to kiss. But he can learn, and he will, because you’ll kiss him every day from now on.

[tonberry-yoda]

LAST ONE I SWEAR: Hermes with the Love at first sight thingy? You are the best thank you omg🤍✨️

Love - Hermes (f!reader)

notes - I havent been feeling 10/10 SO HERE I AM WRITING FOR MY COMFORT CHARACTER IN ROR!!! How can I not?!??!?! It got a little self inserty, BUT I DONT CARE I LOVE HIM SM HOW CAN I NOT?!?!??!?! I'm kinda obsessed with his design tee hee. I had a ton of fun writing this, so thank you for the request!! ily and i hope you have an amazing day <333

word count - 717

You were just a human. A human that was bored of life.

You sighed and spent your time studying Greek Mythology. You seemed to be very fixated on it recently. It was so interesting, the way that the gods would live. And who knew, maybe they were wonderful people. You laughed at the thought. How stupid. If a god met you, you would probably be dead.

You were especially fixated on Hermes though. He was a god that never stopped showing up in every myth you read. He was fun to read about. He was always saying something witty or just being the most reasonable god. He was the most... human, you supposed.

You only wondered if these stories you escaped with were real at all. You wished that you could meet someone like Hermes.

Walks were close enough to your escape though, especially the woods by your house. They were full and green; very fantasy-esque. You loved them. Especially getting overdressed to go on a walk. A long dress and a pair of thin flats. You would read stories to deer and bunnies that weren't too far off from you and you would sometimes just take your shoes off and stick your feet in the mud.

It was freeing. And it was all you needed.

You didn't mind going there by yourself as often as you did. It was nice.

But it was off putting when you heard a voice for the first time.

"Can I ask why we're all the way out here?" A deep, yet smooth voice said.

You quickly hid behind a rock. You weren't used to hearing anyone out here, so you were definitely scared.

"Oh, come now, my boy," a raspier voice chuckled. "I like visiting the world down here every now and again! It's not like anyone's going to be out here!"

And right as the man thought that, your dumbass stepped on a stick that made a loud ass sound. Great.

"What was that?" The raspy voice said.

"I don't know," the smoother voice said, his tone slow and soft. "Let me go check it out. Stay here."

Your heart dropped and you panicked a bit. What were you supposed to do? You spent so much time thinking that you didn't move an inch, so a head peeked out from the rock.

You and him both seemed to be in shock as your eyes went wide as you looked at each other.

You stood up from your spot and muttered something that was supposed to be an apology, but more sounded like a bundle of words. You were blushing, dammit.

The man in front of you was handsome. Super handsome. He had jet black hair and bright red eyes. He was wearing a black tuxedo and you couldn't help but stare at him.

He did the same though, without your knowing. You in your dress, god, you looked like a fairy out here.

You both must've realized that you were staring for far too long and you both blushed, looking at the ground.

"I apologize, miss," the man bowed at you and looked back up at you with a small smile. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I didn't mean to scare you." You peeked out from behind the rock and saw that an old man was admiring a butterfly.

"You're beautiful... if you don't mind me saying."

You turned back to the man with shock. "W-Well, you're very handsome."

"Well, I don't want to doddle. I apologize for the scare," he pulled up you hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon your knuckles. "I do hope you have a lovely rest of your day, though."

You were sad to feel his touch leave, sighing. "Wait!" You called off as he went to walk back to the old man.

The man turned to you, his hair blowing in the light breeze that blew over. "Yes?"

"I never caught your name."

He hesitated for a moment, but smiled. "It's Hermes."

You froze and watched him leave. Oh my god, that was like a dream.

"What was that all about?" Zeus asked Hermes.

"Oh nothing. But love is a funny thing, don't you think, Lord Zeus?"

"Aphrodite can be an awful woman."

Hermes chuckled. "I suppose she can be."

~~~~~

ror masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[ariicandy]

╭・Being Miles’ Younger Sibling !! PT.2

Pt 2 cause I still got some more in mind 😜😜 gonna do e-42 miles soon but as usual,

Grammar mistakes are here I apologize !!

︎ㅤ︎ㅤ❥︎ ┈ whenever you guys are calling late at night and he is on patrol, the call will either randomly end because he ran into a building/poll or u hear him run into the poll/building with an “ow”. Best assure he WILL need the best phone case && screen protector.

ㅤ❥︎ ┈ he’s probably those siblings that randomly go to your room and dont say anything. It might be annoying but to him, it just makes him glad you’re okay and no one/nothing is going to hurt you when he’s around.

ㅤ❥︎ ┈ nicknames he call you are probably like bro, a shorten version of your name(example bri for brianna, Nicky for Nicolas or Danny etc etc.) and sometimes just do a “HEY” depending on context like he’s gonna show you something he thinks is cool or interesting.

❥︎ ┈ if you share a talent you and miles are both good at like a subject in school, best believe you guys will share test scores and brag who got the highest. A small competition of whoever gets the highest scores gets to go get their favorite snack,food, or dessert while the other has to pay for it. If you both got the same scores then no one gets a treat! But miles being the big sweet brother he is, buys you something to celebrate!!

ㅤ❥︎ ┈ If miles had to save you when he was fighting, he was panicking. He ran over to you after knocking the villain checking if you are okay or have any injuries. Reassure him you’re okay and he’ll finally calm down that nothing hurts or have any bruises on you. Just know he’ll talk about it a LOT.

❥︎ ┈ alternate version of miles saving you but you got Injured(badly or not really your choice!) miles would be running to the hospital and be the first person to show up next to you, even before your parents. They try to calm miles down while he is scared and anxious waiting for your surgery to be done and well(if you chose very bad injury)

or they still try to calm him down a bit in the room with you even tho it wasn’t too serious serious.(not very bad choice)

Either one, miles would still be terrified and panicky because he was suppose to keep you safe as your older brother and as spiderman to his advantage. His heart can finally rest knowing you can leave, best assure he’ll give you the biggest hug and never want to let go.

Mama Morales: “Miles that’s enough let [name] have some space and air.”

Miles: “noo one more minute :((“

ㅤ❥︎ ┈ He’ll probably use the excuse of saving you that time JUST SO you don’t go out alone. He definitely got a bit more anxiety and paranoid whenever you come just a little late home. you- “okay ima head out for a bit!” miles - “Let me go with you [n/n]!” you- “Miles I’ll be fine-“ Miles- “But remember last time I wasn’t with you :((“ You end up having miles next to the whole time you went out

ㅤ❥︎ ┈ If the spot killing you because of “what he did to him” and spot destroying his life being his canon event, miles would never get over it and never forgive himself. I would rather disturb this canon event thing just to save your life even if it means he’ll lose his dad or his mom. He can’t lose Someone who was there for him day 1 or even later on he didn’t tell you day 1, he barley has anyone to talk to about this and his own sibling having to be that sacrifice?? He would rather let this dimension collapse with him or break every possible canon event that evolves around you dying than actually really happening. ㅤ❥︎ ┈ He has had nightmares about you or your parents(Mr. & Mrs. Morales) dying from him failing to save any of you by not trying to do both, saving everyone and saving one person close to you. ( see what I did there😜) whenever he has these nightmares he will go check up any of you by opening the door quietly and slowly to not make noise that’ll wake you up. It calms him down seeing you just peacefully sleeping undisturb by the world.

[wordsbyrian]

Anymore - So'Hara x Reader

Summary: R is the lead singer of a punk band and performs a song that's half apology-half regret. Request was So'Hara x Famous!Reader from an Anon

A/N: I don't know if punk bands count as famous but I know for a fact that my music taste is different than most people in the woso world. This is based off the Menzingers' song 'I Dont Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore', they're one of my favorite bands but they aren't very mainstream.

It isn’t unusual for you to find yourself standing on a stage in front of a large crowd on a Thursday night.

You’re the lead singer of a punk band, it’s literally what you get paid to do.

What is unusual is for you to be spending so much time searching the crowd looking for people, your girlfriends specifically.

You guys are in the midst of a pretty big argument and admittedly you haven’t spoken to them in a couple of days (yes it was that bad) but they had promised to be here tonight. Plus, you sent them a text with the address this morning and had gotten a thumbs up in response, so you were pretty hopeful.

At least you were until now because your set is about to start and they’re nowhere to be seen.

Taking a deep breath, you shove that to the side and launch into your first song, strumming your guitar hard and pouring your soul into the words.

It isn’t until you're finishing the fifth song of your set that you see them standing in the back of the small room.

Letting the final chords ring out, you push your sweaty hair out of your face and begin to speak into the microphone.

“Thank you, guys, so fucking much,” you say, smiling widely, “We know how hard it is to get to shows in the middle of the week when you have work the next day, so we really appreciate each and every one of you for being here.”

You stop for a moment, letting the crowd cheer while you try to catch your breath.

Laughing a bit at their enthusiasm you continue, “Now, obviously, we have a lot of songs left to play for you tonight but I figured right now would be a good time to debut an unreleased one, here live in DC.”

You try to keep speaking but are cut off by the crowd’s cheers.

“Bit of backstory, that last song Obituaries was written at the start of my relationship when I was afraid of well, fucking things up,” you explain when they calm down. “This next one is so new that there isn’t even a demo version of it yet because it was written a few days ago when I fucked this up. This is ‘I Don’t Wanna be an Asshole Anymore.’”

Taking a step away from the mic, you turn your back to the crowd, using the moment to silently check in with your bandmates before you start playing again.

When you turn back around, you manage to make it through a majority of the first verse before you look at them again.

“I’m always making a mess, always stumbling out the door but,” you sing, staring directly at them, “I don’t want to be an asshole anymore, woah, baby, baby, I’ll be good to you.”

There seems to be something magnetic about singing an apology to the women you wrote it for and although you find it hard to do, you manage to stop staring at them long enough to sing most of the rest of the song. They really only need to hear the last few lines anyway.

When you get to that part of the song, you stop playing guitar putting both hands on the mic in an attempt to ground yourself.

“You’re the only lovers that I’ll ever miss, ever been hopelessly in love with,” you sing leaning forward slightly, looking at them, “Look at this tangle of thorns, I don’t wanna be an asshole anymore.”

Between both the sweat and the light assaulting your eyes, it’s hard to make out exactly what the looks on their faces could mean but it’s impossible to miss the slight smiles on their faces.

Later that night, after the concert has ended and as you and your bandmates load your gear back into your cars, you hear a very familiar pair of voices calling your name.

Turning around you’re greeted by the sight of both Kelley and Emily walking toward you at a slightly hurried pace.

“Uh, hey,” you say once they’re standing in front of you.

It’s slightly awkward but the three of you haven’t really spoken in days and you don’t know what to say.

The tension is thick and you don’t know how to break it but luckily you don’t have to.

“So,” Emily says, trying to step into your personal bubble, completely undeterred when you continue moving backwards until you collide with your car. “You wrote us a song?”

“I mean technically, I’ve written you loads of songs, you just heard a new one tonight.”

“Whatever, Y/N,” she says leaning into you, “It’s just as sweet as it was the second time.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Kelley laughing at the inside joke as she comes to stand next to you.

“I think this one might fall into the same category as the first song though,” Kelley says, slipping her hand into yours.

You look down at your joined hands then at where Emily has her body pressed against yours then back again, a confused look plastered on your face before you speak.

“I have no idea what’s going on right now,” you tell them.

“About what?”

“Are we not in the middle of a fight,” you say, brows still scrunched together.

Kelley laughs again and so does Emily as she lets her hands move to grab you by the waist.

“Y/N/N, you’re an idiot,” Emily says with a slight squeeze, “It was barely an argument, much less a fight.”

“You called me an asshole and told me to get my shit together.”

“But we didn’t tell you to leave,” Kelley says softly, “We told you to get it together because it was the fourth time in three weeks you came home with a bruise on your face.”

Honestly, you don’t know how you’re supposed to respond to that, you do have a tendency to blow things out of proportion, especially when you feel like you’re being attacked, so you respond the only way you can.

“Oh.”

It feels as though everything from the last couple of days is becoming much clearer and the thing that’s become the most obvious is that you need to stop going to the bar with your drummer Dylan, who is a professional instigator.

“Oh, indeed.”

It’s then that you’re interrupted by none other than the instigator himself trying to get your attention.

“You coming out with us,” he shouts across the parking lot when you look at him.

With the help of your new found realization and the prospect of being able to sleep in your own bed instead of on his couch tonight, it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to shake your head at him before redirecting your attention to the women next to you, both of whom looked shocked.

“You’re not going for post-show drinks,” Emily asks.

“I think I need to spend less time with Dylan,” you say, “He’s always getting me in trouble. Plus, I haven’t really seen you guys in a couple days.”

“You get yourself in enough trouble without his help,” Kelley says with an eye roll, “But we wouldn’t be opposed to you hanging out with us instead.” She pauses for a moment, leaning up to kiss the side of your jaw. “We’ll see you at home.”

With that she pulls her and away from yours, taking one of Emily’s instead and begins dragging her towards the car they came in.

“Wait,” you call after them, “Can’t I get a real kiss?”

“Maybe when you get home,” she calls back.

[the-jesus-pill]

i was never religious, but i find myself struggling with obsessive feelings of guilt anyway. this is an issue i know is common among people raised christian, especially catholics, so i was wondering if you might have any resources to help unlearn that kind of thing!

It's really sad how guilt is such a common thing. I think everyone has it, religious or not and it's a problem that lies deep in society. You're right, a lot of it is due to religion and in many, many cultures, religion shape society as well.

Obsessive guilt, especially when it's without cause, can often stem from anxiety. We're taught that feeling guilty is supposed to teach us something, to show us where we fucked up and that can make the anxiety worse because if we're feeling guilty then we must've done something, right?

But a good practice when you're feeling overwhelmed is asking yourself, who is this helping?

Is it motivating you to fix anything? Or is it crippling you? Does anyone benefit from you feeling guilty right now? Usually the answer is no. You are not making the world a better place by feeling like shit.

And you can tell yourself its okay to let go of these feelings or ignore them. They're not helpful, they're not protecting you and you have permission to distract yourself until they go away. Nothing bad will happen when you do.

Even if you're feeling guilty over things you DID do, something that happened a long time ago or something you already apologized/made up for. It's in the past and it's likely the other person has already moved on and/or forgiven you. Again, not useful guilt, it's only hurting you and you can move on with your life.

Anxious thoughts are often like intrusive thoughts, they get stuck and the more attention you give them the stronger they can get.

Here's what has helped me

Saying out loud "stop" or "I'm not going to be thinking about that" when I start to spiral. It takes the situation out of your head. Same with a clap or a snap or just a loud exhale. Bring yourself back into your body, aka ground yourself when you feel like you're spiraling into an anxiety or guilt fueled episode.

Talking it out with myself. Why do I feel guilty? Is this reasonable? Can I fix anything? What do I expect myself to do? Am I trying to punish myself? Who is this helping?

Distracting myself. I recommend media that will actively engage you instead of media that you put on for background noise.

Standing up for yourself. Tell yourself you're trying your best and you need to get off your case about it. Tell your guilt to stop being an asshole, like what does it want you to do? You're human and you can't do everything right.

Journaling - a cliché but hear me out. When you have obsessive thoughts, it helps to get them out of your head and put them somewhere else. This is why people recommend talking to friends or a therapist, for example. But that's not always possible so you can take a pen and you dont have to do anything fancy. You dont have to make it pretty, you can just write, "I'm feeling guilty/I can't stop thinking about x/I have these thoughts and they make me feel x" and then close the journal and do something else.

You are not morally obligated to feel guilty for the rest of your life and it will not make the world a better place or you a better person. You can just let it go.

It's easier said than done but with practice it really works.

I hope some of this advice helped you! Good luck! You deserve to have a happy and carefree life and it IS possible! You're strong enough to unlearn what hurts you.

[eddiernunson]

Trapped | Eddie Munson | Part 7 | 18+

Previous Part | Master Post | Next Part

[The next part will be out by end of February]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Warnings: Several instances of unprotected P in V sex, (wrap it up), public sex, if you squint (or close your eyes, really) there's public humiliation?, daddy kink continues, and mentions of sex but i dont describe the actual scenes. They get high together, and I basically just describe the first time I got high. (if you want to skip, it doesn't affect the story.) Wholesome mentions include a family dinner with Wayne, get together with all the friends excluding the Byers first I love you, and just everyday musings.

Author's Note: Christmas and January kicked my ASS. I had an inkling of what to do but no literal layout until like Friday. I apologize for this terribly inconsistent posting schedule and there will be a much smaller chapter posted by the 28th. I'm uber excited after the next chapter cause then we're all caught up and my plan is to write the season with the character written in (My goal from the beginning.) I just wanna note I don't ship Mike and Will, because I think Will deserves better. I think it's clear where Mike's priorities lie, and it's not with him.

MINORS DNI for the smut. Seriously. Please.

This should not be this weird.

You stared at the sides of the VHS tapes, organizing the metal bin of discounted vintage tapes. Your right pinky delicately moving the furthest tape up and down, rotating lightly. You were working in silence on November 1st, 1985, a quiet evening in Family Video the day after a Halloween that seemed to cause a big ruckus in Hawkins.

While Steve’s party usually ended up in numerous hangovers and regrets, today it was as if the entirety of Hawkins felt the dreary, murky feeling in the atmosphere. This Halloween just hit different.

That might’ve just been you though, waking up in Steve’s bed in-between him and your boyfriend. You flashback to the night before, and Steve’s brown eyes looking up at you between your legs hits you like a freight train. When Eddie wakes up, he only sees Steve, wondering downstairs to see you perched cross legged on Steve’s couch next to a jock that fell asleep with his hips on the arm rest.

“You okay?” He asks, reaching out to comfort you.

You look up at him, wide eyed and worried. “Did I have-” you look around to see if anyone is awake and continue, “did I have a really, really vivid dream last night?”

Eddie laughs. “Dunno, did you want it to go on longer last night?”

You feel your cheeks heat up; you bite back a smile that creeps onto your face. “Fuck.” Your hand goes up to your forehead in disbelief. “You’re okay with it?”

“Okay with it?” Eddie laughs scooching his tiny waist in between you and the jock. “Princess, I instigated it. I could’ve told him to fuck off. I didn’t. I asked him to join.” Eddie chuckled. “I was already enchanted by your amazing pussy,” you looked around anxiously when he said this too loud, “but Harrington just looked so good. Weird, since he was Peter fucking Pan.”

“Oh. Okay.” You state dumbly.

You sat with him on the couch for another half hour, neither of you quite ready to go back to the real world. As you were held on tight in a hug with him, sat on his lap, you see the party king making his way down the stairs, now in pajamas and his hair damp from a shower.

Subconsciously your body turns to face your boyfriend and your heart is the only thing you can hear and feel. You vaguely hear Harrington’s voice from the next room. “Mornin! Sleep well, you alcoholics?”

Eddie retorts with something you were sure was witty as he was but all you can think of is getting out of the house so you can stop over thinking it. “Hey, I’m feeling pretty hungover can we go?” You ask Eddie, feeling guilty about talking in a way so Steve wouldn’t hear you.

Eddie looks taken aback by your request; his brown eyes noticeably confused. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure Harrington will have a concoction to help with that if you need it.”

You wiggle closer to him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m feeling shy,” you whisper, an uncontrollable smile crept onto your face.

“Shy?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance.

“I have wondered for ages what that would’ve been like, and I knew it would never happen because neither of us were interested in each other the way Nance and Steve once were. It was harmless curiosity.” You pause when it sounded like Steve was on his way to the living room. “Now it’s a bizarre reality and I have no idea how to-how to be around him. Let me avoid him until I see him at work tonight.”

Eddie stared at you wordlessly, a reaction you’ve seen on him only a handful of times. The times would be when his club members are saying something and it’s just so wild to him, he can barely contain it. “Um, sweetheart. You could just talk to him now.”

“Please?” You ask, tilting your head and doe-ing your eyes up.

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty.” He mutters, getting off the couch in a graceful leap. “Alright. Go grab your shit and I will make something up.”

You run back up to Steve’s room, eyes avoiding the bed as you search the sunlit room for your costume’s accessories, Eddie’s wings and halo he ripped off in his drunken haze. You run back down the stares, Eddie already putting on his leather jacket you hadn’t noticed he had placed on the coat hanger the night before.

“Sure ya can’t stay?” You hear Steve’s voice what felt like right in your ear and the crook of your neck. To be fair, he wasn’t quite that close to you, your senses just felt heightened. Your stunted reaction of jerking back both amused and confused the hell out of your boyfriend, though. You turn to face Steve, something you’d hoped to avoid. Unfortunately, a combined trauma and three years of casual acquaintanceship that lead into friendship meant Steve knew when something was off. He didn’t say anything about it. “I make a mean hangover cure.”

“I feel like shit, and we still have work tonight. I’m going to take a minute and rest.” My ass needs it, you thought, wondering what the collective response would’ve been if you said it. “I’ll see you later.” You give him your best attempt at a natural smile, to which Steve gives a huh look over you to Eddie when you turn away to the door.  Eddie shrugs, laying his arm around your shoulder.

Now, here you are, no choice but to face Steve as he hovered around you as the loud silence of your nails ticking against the plastic covers deafened your ears. You came into work, barely making it after a short nap to wallow in your anxiety with your mom calling upstairs when she had realized you haven’t gotten up for work yet. Steve hung onto you like a magnet as soon as you bolted in, letting you know there’s loads of tapes to return after he rewound most of them and he’ll need your help.

You saw right through him of course, but you agreed with your most convincing smile and avoided his brown eyes staring a hole into your head. Though, an hour into your shift it seems he had enough. “Ok, cut the shit. What’s wrong?”

The harsh tone behind his words startled you into looking him in the eyes for the first time since making fun of Robin with him towards the end of the night when she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Your mouth moved to speak, and you backed out last minute, looking back down to your task at hand. Lots of horror movies returned, you noted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shit. Your voice wavered through that; you were unconvincing even to yourself.

Suddenly Steve’s green vest over a dark pink loose shirt tucked into his jeans was in your direct line of sight, hands on his hips, sporting a reprimanding look he usually saves for Dustin. “Seriously. Look at me.”

You look up, guilt evaded your brain as the genuine concern was displayed on his face.

“Did you not want-?” Steve asks, and it doesn’t even occur to you he’d be worried about this.

“It’s not that.” You shake your head hurriedly. “I promise. I knew what was happening and agreed wholeheartedly.”

“Then why the cold shoulder?” He asks, his voice softer and laying his hand on your arm, soothing with his thumb. You look down at it, fixated on how gentle he was. “Y/N. You’re going to have to answer me eventually. I will sit here for the rest of your shift don’t test me.”

Your eyes went back up to his face, and it felt like your anxiety bubbled to a stop. “I’m worried.” You start, moving to lift another VHS tape back until Steve stops you so you can focus on him. “I used to wonder what it might’ve been like on the occasion that I would hear a rumour or two and I figured it wouldn’t happen on the idea that sometimes you become too close to someone. I didn’t think it was a mutual notion.”

“You’re very wrong about that, go on.” Steve mentions casually.

“I-ok.” You pause, the sentence repeating itself in your mind. “I was afraid it would be different. I don’t want it to be. How do I interact with you knowing what I now know?” You glance at him; he seems bewildered by your thought process. “I overthink everything. I’ve never done anything like that, and I don’t know how to be normal.”

“Darling. You don’t think. Just do. I won’t judge you for what I heard before I joined, during, the aftermath. If I did, I wouldn’t have such a great reputation about it.” He takes his hand off yours, returning to work. “I will you treat you normal. It might take you a minute, but you’ll get into the swing of it. Avoiding me might’ve just made it worse though.”

Your eyes rolled at him, already feeling better that Steve was willing to go back to normal. “I am shy!” You claim, putting more Friday the 13th movies away.

Steve couldn’t hold back. “That’s not what you said last-” He didn’t even finish- you didn’t let him. You whacked him with a VHS, admittedly a little too hard. Steve ran off, giggling like a mad man towards to where Robin was rewinding the last of the tapes.

Wait, what did Steve hear before he joined? “Steve!”

-

A happy blissful two weeks passed by, a World Geography test you both crammed for during a night that ended up with you bent over his dresser, and nights spent with the Hellfire club and him finally convincing you to play in occasionally. After Dustin and Mike spend the two weeks grovelling and bothering Eddie, eventually you, Dustin, Mike, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Max, and Lucas are all downstairs at the Wheelers with a game of Catan in front of you.

How the hell Dustin Henderson manages to convince people to play games like this is beyond you. It was beyond Eddie as well, complaining on the way over to the Wheelers’ residence. “I don’t know how the kid convinces so many people to do play board games with him. I have spent years building my recruitment skills. How the hell does he do it?”

You laugh, pulling yourself out of a soft gravity of bliss you were feeling as he held your hand and sang along quietly to the soft rock on the radio. “Mostly through bribing and relentless begging. It only works on people who find him somewhat amusing. You should see him attempt to recruit outside of the circle. It’s a nightmare.”

“Still though.” He pauses, thumbs drumming against the beat on his steering wheel. “He’s got the makings of a great Hellfire Club leader.”

“Don’t tell him that.” You say, shifting in the fabric seats as you turn the final corner to the Wheelers. “The kid worships you. Plus, if you offered him the spot then told him you’re taking the throne I think he’d riot.”

Eddie laughs, lifting his hand to your face to frame it fondly and stares at you for a moment too long considering he was still driving. The look you have always wanted to see him staring at you with was well worth it. “No, he’s also just more knowledgeable than some members who have been going to the club for years. I think it just makes sense.”

“When are you planning on telling him this? I’m pretty sure he’s been plotting and campaigning for taking over your role since the end of September.” You comment, remembering the plotting of him with an exasperated Steve Harrington at Family Video one night.

“I’m waiting to see what he gets me for Christmas.” Eddie laughs, signalling to turn into the driveway.

It seems the two of you were fashionably late, coming down to a basement full of teenagers waiting impatiently. “Finally!” Dustin exclaims, ripping out the boardgame as soon as you were in sight.

“Busy were ya?” Robin asks, a side smirk on her face.

Actually, you were. It is not your fault your boyfriend is relentlessly horny at the worse times. It was hard not to self consciously adjust your hair, wondering if something gave it away. The sharp memory of Eddie straight up grabbing your pussy when you told him there was no time yet feeling large wet spot that has been looming on your panties from watching him practice on his guitar while listening to some music. “I knew you were fucking horny. C’mon bend over for me, we only have a few minutes to make us both cum.”

The silence following Robin’s cheeky accusation was enough to accidentally confirm. “Blame him.” You point, letting go of his hand and laughing at the look of betrayal across his face. A portion of the group laugh out loud, Dustin and Mike mimicking gagging.

Dustin lays out the game, distributes the pieces appropriately and explains the rules. Mike’s family owns the Settler version of Catan, a game that requires trading and early colonialism. It takes a few times for you and Steve to understand the rules and basic concept, but the game gets heated quickly.

Remember, the two eldest Wheelers, Eddie, Steve, Dustin, and Max are all in the same game. This was doomed from the start. You, Lucas, and Robin are pretty much in it for the drama by the half point when you all collectively realized none of you were going to win. Instead, you three started instigating more drama.

Dustin and Max were in the middle of arguing about how she supposedly betrayed the alliance they made. Max is asking where the written contract was, and Dustin claims it was in her word. Meanwhile, though they were separated because of their inability to get along, it somehow made it worse with them arguing across the table after Nancy interjected the road Mike has built. Eddie has gotten himself into a heated argument with Steve, turns out both were after the limited recourse that was clay. You wished that Dustin had thought this through a bit more because you didn’t think this version of Catan was built for these many players.

Steve yells loud enough to make every other argument die, cutting into the amused glance you and Lucas were exchanging. “Ok! We gotta figure this shit out. Eddie. You gotta give me the clay. It was obvious that was my goal first.”

“Oh. You want the clay?” Eddie asks, starting to pick up pieces he had on the board. Uh oh. You don’t know how but you saw this coming from a mile away. “Here! Take it!” Eddie starts throwing them to Steve, he rapid fires them at him, taking no time between each fling.

The individuals surrounding you were a mixture of laughter and annoyance, most of them were both. You could barely pay attention to it, there was this a of emotion in you, your breath hitched sharply as you watched him start to throw Nancy’s road, causing her to interject rather wildly. The realization hit you like a fire truck on the way to a fire across the state with ten minutes until the house burnt down.

Holy shit.

Holy shit you loved him.

You truly loved him.

Your heart rammed in its cage as the knowledge startles you into silence, still watching Eddie with a stupid grin on your face. For all intents and purposes, you were wholeheartedly in love with Eddie fucking Munson. You were waiting for this epiphany to hit you ever since the conversation you had with him in your kitchen at supper with your parents. The amount of phone calls the two of you had and you wanted to blurt it out despite the uncertainty of its truth was nearly overwhelming.  

You smiled to yourself, watching as Dustin gets up to point Eddie to where you were sitting, informed he was now kicked out from this round and to sit down next to you so you could keep an eye on him. “Oh, come on! That’s so lame.”

“Think of it as revenge for all the times you doxed perception points for needing to piss, asshole.” Dustin yells a little too loudly.

“Dustin. Tone.” You remind him, noticing a certain trend in tone from him lately.

“Sorry.” He says towards you, understanding he needed to take it down a notch. “Dude. You threw pieces. Not cool. If I did that in D&D I would’ve been killed in a heartbeat.”

“Why do you think I’m a Master and not a player? I don’t have the patience for it.” Eddie laughs walking over to you.

He grabs a chair and places it right next to you, placing his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?” He asks, so close to you if you looked towards him, he would be too close to be in focus.

You let a wide smile spread across your face, the words attempting to bubble out of your mouth. You hold back. Not right now. “I’m great. I just didn’t realize you’d be so competitive.”

“I usually go for the clay because no one else does and it becomes a great asset in the end. I don’t know how Steve deducted that but sometimes I get carried away, you know.”

“I know, baby.” You laugh, Eddie squeezing your shoulder sharply in response.

The game ends with a surprise win from Robin, having suddenly getting into it once she put the rules and noticed certain strategies, she was tired of quietly communicating to her best friend and him ignoring her gesturing. Robin might’ve been terribly awkward at times, but she knew strategy. It worked for her. Dustin pretended to bow down as you all applauded her success, Robin yelling triumphantly in the centre with friends scattered around her in an incomplete circle. You were leant back into Eddie, watching Dustin ask her, nearly hound her on how she managed to do it.

 You didn’t even notice the content smile on your face, Eddie kissing into your temple. You leaned into him, enveloping his lips into yours, feeling a whiff of emotion as you tried to silently express the emotions you felt earlier to him.

“You guys are gross.” You hear Max claim, hearing her approach the couch behind you.

The two of you look to her, and Lucas is right next to her, his arm around her tentatively. “Call it what you want. Would you rather us be fighting all the time like my parents?” Eddie asks, grabbing your hand.

“Oh god no.” Max mutters, memories of her fighting parents flashing before her eyes. “You’re just sickeningly cute. I mean me and Lucas kiss but not nearly as cavity inducing as the two of you.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “If you don’t want cavities, you can look away at any given moment. Also don’t think the two of you aren’t cavity inducing as well. You’re adorable, kids. Own it.”

Max’s face scrunches at being called adorable, Lucas looking at her fondly. If Max could only see how this boy stared at her when she wasn’t looking you wondered if she would be so inclined to dump him like she did. Max gulped, smiling half heartedly. You could tell there was something on her mind, yet Dustin and Lucas had both already voiced their concerns and she loudly dismissed it. You’ve been keeping an eye on her, wondering how she was holding up.

Ever perceptive, Max narrows her eyes as to pointedly wonder why you were staring. You stick her tongue out at her, deflecting the act of being caught. Max’s blue eyes roll in response. Lucas is talking to her, his voice soft enough to where you couldn’t make out what he was saying, though you probably weren’t supposed to hear it based on Max’s visible blush and a smile she tries to hold back.

Your attention flips back to Eddie, and you wonder how you’re going to tell him. What if he wasn’t ready to say it yet?

Funnily enough, Eddie Munson, too wrapped up in admiring you and successfully zoning out the argument over the game that is still happening, was wondering the same thing. He had this epiphany when you two went for a drive last week. You were singing Take on Me, a newer song you haven’t quite gotten the lyrics quite down and failed to reach the higher notes, resulting in Eddie barely holding back in his laughter, you are calling him mean before you join him.

While your voice cracked through your high notes, your chin lifted and eyes closed as you gave it a good hard try, he looked over to you, the epiphany hitting him much softer than yours hit you. Yours took the wind out of you, his was as if a butterfly landed on him and kissed him to bless him with it. The last key change with the completely wrong note that escaped your lungs with a screech brought him into laughter.

“Baby. That was amazing. I haven’t heard anyone that off key since Jeff attempted the operatic section of Bohemian Rhapsody.” He laughs grabbing your hand. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He felt them in his throat, threatening to climb out without his permission. Though he had a feeling this was not the moment.

Now, eyes full adoration for you as you carefully weave your pointer finger through his somewhat unruly curls, he was wondering when the best time would be. The words felt stuck in his throat, burning with a desire to crawl out. He felt somewhat worried they would leave without his permission one night, the want to say it between classes or a late-night phone call. He’s been waiting somewhat impatiently for you to say it.

However, your brain has convinced itself he’s not ready for it yet and he would look at you with pity if you had confessed it now.  

So, it would still be another two weeks before either one of you confessed.

-

While Robin isn’t competitive, she is not above bragging. Her intelligence that seems to make up for her lack of knowledge of social cues is made up in strategy and analytics. Usually, you and Robin are making side eyed glances at one another at work, but today you find being a lone sane ranger in what felt like a wilderness of absolute madness. Were you drugged by the Russians again? In another game of D&D that had no curfew due to a long weekend? (Thanksgiving was next week, anyway.)

No, just a bragging Robin Buckley and a salty Steve Harrington.

You were manning the front desk, avoiding them as they were actually driving you crazy for once. Off to the side, they were arguing over changing up the display. You had only heard bits and pieces of their conversation, only enough to understand the gist of what this argument was about. “Well, how do you know my idea isn’t better, huh?”

“Cause my strategy actually won, that’s how!” Robin shoots back without missing a single beat.

Steve yells in frustration, and without any warning he places a nicely toned arm around your shoulder. “Can you please ask Robin to cut it out” he asks, yelling the last three words of his sentence.

 “I don’t understand how this is my problem. I didn’t play in the game.” You say, shrugging out of his arm to make yourself clear you’re not on either side of their petty argument.

“You brought the shit disturber!” Steve shouts, gesturing to the door as if Eddie was about to appear at the mention of his name.

Looking over, you hoped he was there to save you from this annoyance. No such luck, Uncle Wayne had stolen him for the night.

You look back to face Steve, the annoyance and disappointment clear on your face. “What Eddie does while playing games is not in my control. If I thought I could control what he does playing anything, you think we would’ve gotten along so easily?” The side of his mouth quirks up for a second, internally laughing and agreeing with you.

He couldn’t show that to you, of course. “Whatever, just have better control over your boyfriend next time. That way I won’t fucking lose.”

“Sure, Steve. It was Eddie’s fault you lost. Let’s say that.” You comment sarcastically, nodding along.

“HAH!” Robin yells from where she and Steve were arguing. Oops. You may have accidentally taken sides.

The arguments don’t die down. By the end of it, you were mentally exhausted from all of it. The Sunday night seemed to droll on, the busiest days for returns but the slowest for renters. After rewinding all the returns and straight up ignoring your coworkers, Steve locks up the store and you walk away from their continued arguments. How the hell did they never get tired of arguing? No wonder you thought they were together, fuck.

As you pull in, you notice a familiar van down the street. No shit.

The front door enters, and your mom comes up to you with a look of kindness as she can tell you were exhausted. Your brain barely registers it, the idea of Eddie being upstairs enough to settle at least a small percentage of your nerves. “Hi, sweetheart. Your supper and a guest are upstairs.”

Your eyes open wide, knowing Eddie parks down the block when he wants to sneak in without the parentals knowing.

“He fell off your bed. Tell him he can use the damn door.” She comments as you start to run up the stairs to your room to avoid the look your mom is giving you.

You open your door, Eddie on your bed cross legged in a pair of plaid pajamas and an old band t-shirt, watching the door in what can be only described as fear.

A beat.

“You fell off my bed?” You ask, your backpack falling off your shoulder as you drop your car keys on the floor.

“Oops?” Eddie asks, face in an odd mix of fear and humour. “In my defense, I have shit balance and I’m impressed I haven’t eaten shit while climbing through your window before.”

Your head tilts. “You did it crawling through the window?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Not my finest moment, your mom caught me halfway back out the window.”

You huff, hand landing onto your forehead. Shit, you really loved him.

“Your mom said we have until midnight.”

“See, this is what happens when you don’t wait until I’m home.” You would never tell your mom, and the only others that do know are Nancy and Robin, but Eddie has been spending one or two nights a week spending the night at your house. Uncle Wayne knew that your parents don’t know, but Eddie is 20, you’re 18, he didn’t see the big deal.  

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t wait until my smoking girlfriend got home.” Eddie puts his hands up, turning it on you. “My bad. I’ll try to hide my charming enthusiasm for you for now on.”

You roll your eyes and fling the shirt you had just taken off to his face. “Hey now! I need to see the goods! You can’t hide them from me!” Eddie runs low into you, like his imitation of a gremlin. “Show me the goods!”

The laughter you fail to hold in bubbles out, and you can’t imagine what your parents must be thinking. Although Eddie sneaking in has become a common practice for the two of you, you still feel anxious as shit until you know they’re in their bedroom asleep.

He can feel you’re still anxious and grabs your cheeks into his hands. “Anxious?”

You nod, still amazed you have the luxury of seeing his brown eyes this close. How was it legal they were so damn pretty?

“Uh,” your breath hitches, and you realize you weren’t breathing. “Mmhm.”

Eddie smirks, and you became afraid of what crossed his mind.

You had a right to be.

“What,” he asks, leaning in. You had hoped he was leaning in to kiss you, but he flies passed your lips and to your ear, “is my pretty girl afraid her parents will hear her being a slut?”

You gulp, your heart beating faster. You can feel the heat of your core getting warmer by the second. Words escape your mind all the sudden, so you nod.

“I mean they were bound to hear it one day,” Eddie chuckles, putting a well thought out hand onto your hip, the thumb rubbing purposely.

Your gulp is audible, Eddie nods in understanding, as if your protest was enough for him to take pity on you, for now. “Okay, maybe not today. But pretty baby does want to, right?”

Your head shakes fast, nodding vigorously. “Yes. Definitely.”

Eddie’s head jerks back, a shit eating grin on his face. “Okay. We’ll wait until 10, their bedtime.”

You tilt your head to see around his body that had backed you up against the wall to the alarm clock on your bedside table. It was 7:08. Three hours. You lean back in, the expression of not wanting to wait so long clear on your face. “Huh?”

“You said you didn’t want them to hear you. C’mon. I wanna show you an evil plot I have formed. I need a new opinion that won’t convince me not to do something just because their character wouldn’t survive it.” Eddie says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed, previous talk seemingly forgotten about.

“Then I have to cover the goods.” You respond, realizing you were still half undressed. You run to your dresser, grabbing a pair of shorts and one of his shirts. If he was going to tease you, you could very much do the same. Eddie had made it clear shortly after Halloween short shorts and a shirt of his was a weakness of his.

Two can play that game.

-

The anticipation was ruthless and unfair for the both of you. Eddie showed you his notes from the fantasy novels he had checked out from the library and how he had planned to use it in the campaign for this upcoming week, and your legs and the smell of your perfume was just intoxicating to him. The slight shift of his eyes moving from his notes down to your legs consistently was enough to make you feel smug.

It was about 9:30, your textbooks out and working on some long question answers together. You were genuinely attempting to some work, seeming as you might as well if you have the time and you need to make sure he still gets his shit done. “Okay, I can’t take it. Put on some damn pants.” Eddie tells you, only a few words on his paper and his pencil beside him.

“Nope. You started it. You made this bed. Sit in it.” You say, not even looking up from where you were writing.

“Fuck. You know I am absolutely going get you back for this, right?” Eddie asks, playing with his rings and flexing his fingers unnecessarily.

You intended to stay focused on your paper, knowing he was up to something. “I look forward to it.”

Eddie glances at the time. 9:35. Fuck. If he gave in early, then you would win. But if he gives in then he gets you. “Princess.” He mutters, and you look up. He crashes his lips onto yours, his mouth open and enveloping your lips into his.

You break from him. “I thought you were waiting until 10.”

“Oh, I am,” Eddie comments, hand soothing you wherever he can reach. “We can make out for twenty minutes. Just gotta keep your hands to yourself.”

“Can you keep your hands to yourself for twenty minutes?” You challenge him, a sly smile making its way onto your face. “You are quite handsy.”

You had him figured out; he finds himself challenged as you stare at him unblinkingly. But if you knew Eddie Munson, you knew he doesn’t back off from a challenge, even if he knew he was backed into a corner. Man doesn’t know how to admit he was wrong. “Can you?” He asks, turning it back onto you.

A smile breaks onto your face, genuine this time. You dramatically push both of your books and the papers off your bed. Eddie lifts his eyebrow at you quizzically. Though he was amused, he couldn’t help but admire how adorable you were. In response to Eddie’s raised eyebrow, you grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him down so the two of you are lying on your bed with Eddie on top of you. On the way down he let out a yelp out of surprise, chuckling as he found his footing and gripped your sheets.

Eddie leaned into you, not giving you any moment to register it. Off the bat you can feel yourself getting antsier, the way Eddie worked his tongue against yours driving the heat downward right into your core.

Slowly, you hear him breathing shallower and shallower. Your hands grabbed Eddie by the nape of his hairline, tugging on it lightly. Eddie lets out a sharp breath, giving you a dark look as he pulls back again.

A bubble of laughter escapes your mouth, despite trying to hold it back. “What? I just touched your hair.”

“Oh, is that the game we’re allowed to play?” Eddie asks, his tone of voice slightly scaring you. “I didn’t know we were allowed to play dirty.”

Eddie meets your mouth with more force now, as if he was doing his best to tug a breathy moan out of you. He leans back from you, using his thumb to tug your bottom lip down and open your mouth. He places the thumb inside, laying the pad of his thumb resting on your tongue. You instinctively start to suck on it, moving your tongue around it. His kisses move down, wet feeling of his tongue combined with your lips trailing down along your neck and into the crook where your neck and shoulder meet. His teeth make their way into the mix, starting to bite and nip and suck along your shoulder and collarbone.

This had brought on the feeling of ecstasy, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. “I thought-hmm” you stutter as Eddie works his tongue expertly against your skin. “I thought our hands were being kept to ourselves.”

Eddie gives an exceptionally strong suck on your collarbone, he looks up, lips kissed bruised and eyes wild as he looks up from his hard work. “Oh, my hands are being kept to myself. We said nothing about our lips.” You give a side-eye, your mind wondering if he was gonna go down on you then if he was so insistent on using his lips. He catches this, narrowing his eyes at you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You lie, unconvincingly.

“Noth-nothing?” Eddie stutters, placing his ringed hand into your hair. “That was not nothing. If I have learned anything about you, its to ask what look I see on your face right now.”

You giggle, feeling shy. “If you don’t keep your lips to yourself why stop at my collarbone?”

“Oh, you shithead.” Eddie mutters, one long lick from your nape to your ear. “You absolute brat.”

His hand leaves your hair and slides them up your arms to place his hands in yours, clutching your hands a tad harder than necessary and moving them above your head. It managed a small whine out of you, slightly wriggling around as his hands had you tied down. Eddie leans down to you, and you’re expecting the dirtiest kisses he can provide you. He gives you light tongue, barely letting you have a taste of the permanent weed that staycayed in his mouth.

His knee jerks forward into your cunt, and you let out a breathy gasp. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, hmm?”

You frown slightly in response, annoyed at his cheeky question. Eddie smiled, giving you a look of satisfaction. He opened his mouth to respond, and a noise down the hallway catches his attention.

Your parents’ door closing.

Eddie’s head snaps towards your clock, it displayed 10:06.

A dark smile is displayed across Eddie’s face, and he yanks himself off your bed and locks your door. His shirt hits the floor as he makes his way back to your bed and you can barely ask what’s going on when he leans back in to lay another kiss on you. “Baby.” He mutters, his hand starts up and down your legs, wasting little time.

“Hmm?” You ask, somewhat in a daze.

“It’s after ten.” He whispers, making you understand the change in atmosphere. “You still want to?”

You giggle, your hands immediately grabbing at the hem of your shirt to take it off. “You gonna fuck me good, Ed?”

“Not Ed,” he mutters, his voice partially muffled by your shorts in his teeth. “Not now.”

“Daddy you gonna fuck me good?”

No words left his mouth, but you saw the darkened eyes as his hands gently finished the shorts’ journey off your legs. You waited in bated breath as you felt Eddie’s hot breath against your thighs next to your pussy. “Look how pretty this pussy is.” Eddie admires you, his finger lightly grazing against your folds. “And she’s so wet, too. I’ve barely even touched you.”

“That’s-that’s a lie and you know it, Ed.” You whine, resisting the urge to slam your legs together in the increased state of vulnerability you feel.

“Not Ed, and it’s…debatable.” Eddie decided, taking in the velvet feeling of the wetness against your entrance. He takes a scoop of your slick and slips it into his mouth for the taste of it and bites back a moan. “Fuck, you taste so good, princess.”

Your hips move restlessly, tired of the lack of touch. “Do-do something, Daddy. Anything. Please.”

Eddie chuckles, taking pity on you. He yanks himself off the bed, ripping his belt off so his jeans come off with one swift move. His underwear is ripped off without another thought. “Anything? How about you?”

Before you can even process what Eddie meant you feel him line his cock up against your entrance, and you moan loudly at the feeling of his cock finally pushing into you after hours of his fingers grazing your skin lighting it on fire. “Holy- oh my god-” you moaned, reeling in the feeling.

Eddie leans into you, lying his body against yours, your tits being pushed up to your ears. “Fuck, your pussy feels so goddamn good, sweetheart. So, so goddamn tight, and wet, and I will never get over how fucking good your pussy is.” Eddie rambles into your ear, voice deep and gruff.

“Move? Please?” You ask him gently, wondering if he even heard what you had said.

“Maybe I just wanna be in you for a little bit.”

“Mmmhm!” You whine, both turned on and angered by the idea. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely, my love.” He says, and his first hip thrust makes you forget how gentle he was.

Eddie moves his hand as he thrusts awkwardly so his fingers cling to your clit, rubbing frantically as if he wanted to make you cum as fast as possible. The build up from waiting in a frantic heightened state combined with the lovely foreplay Eddie had so generously provided for you brought on the feeling of your orgasm in the pit of your stomach, fast and startling.

He saw the flutter of your eyelid, felt the squeezing of your thighs, felt your breathing grow shallower by the minute, he could tell you were close. “My baby close?”

You nod, your eyelids struggling to stay open.

“Yeah? Just got my cock in you and you’re already gonna cum?” He asks, the pressure of his thumb tensing up lightly, rubbing it faster.

You nod again, moaning loudly as his thrusts hit harder.

“I don’t know if my baby has been a good enough girl for that, being a brat, n’ all…” Eddie manages, and your brow unconsciously furrows, clear as day you were not a fan of this idea. “No, you think you deserve to cum?”

You nod your head frantically, wordlessly begging for him to show you any kind of mercy.

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Eddie says after pretending to consider it.

The words had set off a flood gate of pleasure stunning you into border lining on completely limp. Usually after such an intense orgasm he would stop, allowing you to catch your breath before he carried on. However, this time intensity of your cunt tightening around his cock so tight had Eddie losing his mind, continuing to fuck you into oblivion.

He made his way up so he was sitting up and you were still on your back, now managing to hit deeper. Though you have been sexually active with him quite frequently, often enough to make anyone blush, making Eddie’s limit extended. Even with this additional experience, sometimes just the tightening of your cunt as you finish around him brings him to his high.

“Fuck, your tight-tight fucking pussy, so perfect, so beautiful, feels so fuckin good, sweetheart.” Eddie grunts, and you’re finally recovered enough to enjoy the blissed out look on his face. “Fuck-” With a final snap of his hips, the familiar feeling of Eddie’s cum filling you up filled your senses. You watched Eddie’s half lidded eyes as he was in the depth of the feeling of his orgasm.

Breath finally fills your lungs after the air being sucked out of it from being able to watch something as hot and ethereal as this boy that you thirsted after for three years cum inside you. How was this real? Nearly two months of you two together and you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Eddie to tell you this was enough experience and now he had wanted to be with someone who he had actually liked.

The insecurity hit you in a place that drove you to sit up and tug him down to lie back on top of you. Eddie had sensed some sort of change in your disposition, the insecurity flashing across your face before he was tugged down to you. “You, you okay, sweetheart?”

“I just really-” the word wanted to leave your mouth. It was sitting in your voice box’s waiting room, reading one of the magazines for the fifth time. Its number was called, again. The word looked up and shook it’s head. It just wouldn’t leave your mouth. “I just hope this never ends.”

“I’m still in you.” Eddie says, lifting his head and giving you a weird look. You laugh together, the bizarre feeling of his cock twitching inside of you as he wasn’t moving, you pulse around him. “Me too, princess.” Eddie leans back onto you, peppering your neck with quick kisses.

You push him off and out of you, now exhausted from your long day at work and remembering you had school the next day. “You’re still coming over next week?” You ask him, watching as he got himself back into his clothes.

“Of course! Wayne not having to cook anything that even resembled a Thanksgiving dinner is a definite RSVP.” Eddie jokes, and you realize he’s about to take off when he slips on his jacket.

“Nothing to do with your girlfriend, huh? Only coming for Wayne’s sake?” you asked, edging him on to admit that you’re the reason he was willing to spend supper with his girlfriend’s parents and his own guardian.

“Wayne would’ve come to eat with them whether or not they had invited him, honestly.” Eddie laughs, doing a last ruffle through his hair. “Oh, sweetheart I have a surprise for you.” He mentions, moving his leg out of your window.

“Ooh! What?” Eddie’s surprises rarely (never) failed you.

“You’ll find out tomorrow morning.” He says, now out your window and giving you a cheeky grin. He leaned in to give you a sweet kiss, sly smile making you weak in the knees. You’re pretty sure seeing this smile alone in the first month of freshman year is what made you fall for him. Despite the internal monologue of telling yourself giving in to his kisses will only encourage him to go on with his bullshit, another part of you loved this part of him and knew your relationship wouldn’t be the same without it.

“This Friday at your house, Ed?” You asked him, leaning against the window as he stayed crouched.

“Just like always, sweetheart.” There’s finality in his voice, and the word still refuses to leave your throat. I love you.

“See you tomorrow baby.”

“Tomorrow.”

-

If you had a normal night at work last night then you would’ve spent all night tossing and turning, wondering what surprise he would give you.

Over the past six weeks Eddie has realized one way to show he cares is to give you surprises and always have something to pull out of his back pocket. A broken piece of one of his old guitar picks you have displayed on your mirror, an old chain necklace he didn’t wear anymore, a flower he miraculously found in the back alley at the bar his gig was at, and lastly, a movie date that started with wining and dining and ended with highly sinful whisperings into your ear.

The morning started with meeting Eddie in the parking lot, hand in hand to walk in tandem into the school. “Look beautiful today, baby.” He speaks to you lowly, causing your face to heat up.

You don’t respond, afraid to stutter out a response. You walk over to a table where Nancy is currently arguing with Evan, an argument they’ve had since last week.

“-because that’s not what’s important about the story! It’s not about the discrepancies that lead up to it, its about the truth. It’s why we report.” Nancy was exasperated, a notepad full of a nearly finished story (or an idea of the story), using her pen to point at her notepad insistently.

“But Nancy this is a part of the truth! It’s an important detail that tells the whole story, the whole image of what we are telling. No piece of information is unimportant, can’t believe you’d even claim that.” Evan says, sounding genuine.

“Evan this information is hearsay. You have no proof other than speculation to prove it’s true.” Nancy shots back, her jaw hard.

You were going to announce you and your boyfriend’s arrival when you had sat down but this was just entertaining. Their arguments were usually along these lines, Nancy shuts it down in the end and you were looking forward to how she would do it today.

“I have a strong rumour mill to rely on. They’re not wrong very often.” Evan contorts, his voice telling the three of you he thought he had Nancy down.

Nancy glances to you and you realize she’d known you were there all along, giving you a side eye. You both know the rumour mill in town is not always correct. In fact, the two of you have relied on Hawkins’ inaccuracy. “Unless you can give me a congruent resource, it’s a no-go.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever.” Evan leans onto his elbow, tapping the pen on his paper. Suddenly, you find Evan looking at you, a new glint in his eye. “So, any chance-”

“Go away, Evan.” You say, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Besides, the frenzy around our relationship has died down by now. I don’t think it would be the hard-hitting piece it would’ve at one point.”

“You’d be surprised how much people want to know.” Evan states, looking around him as if those very people had asked him personally questions about the two of you.

You rolled your eyes. “Dude.” Eddie says, out of patience from hearing you complain about him. You watched as Evan’s glance switched to Eddie and his eyes widen in fear. Sometimes Eddie’s reputation was worth it. “Drop it.”

A conscious effort is used on your part to not seem surprised at how hard Eddie’s voice was. Anything close to what you’d heard before was something he would use in good fun. Evan has been border-lining aggressive about it, despite Nancy’s continuous efforts to get him to cut it out.

Evan nodded slowly, the message was received, he waved wordlessly to Nancy and walked out of the cafeteria, looking back at Eddie with wide eyes.

As soon as Evan was out of earshot the three of you break into laughter, hardly believing his reaction. “Pretty sure he went to go change his pants,” Nancy laughed, closing her notepad.

“Can’t believe that worked.” Eddie says relieved smile on his face.

“You were scary.” Nancy states, switching her glance between you two. ‘Scary’ she mouths at you.

“Your brother seems to think so.” Eddie said, glancing towards where Mike and Dustin were sitting at the Hellfire club table.

“He also says that she ruined you.” Nancy laughs, scratching at the back of her neck.

You roll your eyes, used to Mike’s vague irritation aimed at you about his beloved heartless, demonic Dungeon Master. “He’ll get over it.” You remember. “So, Ed. What are you telling me?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me.” Eddie says, leaning into you and putting his arm around you. “Well, sweetheart I called up Harrington last night,” concerning, go on, “and I asked him of a favour.”

“I heard he had already given you two a favour.” Nancy comments, writing in her notebook.

The two of you glance at her, unaware of her knowledge of the incident from Halloween. Anyway.

“Wonder how many people just...know.” Eddie comments, scratching his chin. “Anyway, he got us another reservation at Chef’s Table.”

“No shit.” You comment, excitement about doing the date right this time without the first date jitters. “Same table?”

“Same table.”

“Fuck yeah!” You say, pumping your fist in celebration.

“Don’t waste it!” Steve says, seeing your celebratory pump in the air, not knowing if this is what you were talking about but betting on it anyway.

“Go to work!” Nancy shouts back, pointing to the clock on the wall that stated ten minutes until class started.

“Why do you kick him out every morning?” Eddie asks, kissing you lightly on your cheek after he says it.

“Cause then he would be loitering and I’d rather him deal with me than Principal Higgins or the police.” Nancy states, grabbing her stuff to get to her first class. “I gotta go anyway. Yearbook stuff.”

“Guess we should go to class too, huh?” Eddie asks, getting up from his chair.

“Where did Eddie go?” You ask, looking around him dramatically.

“Shut up.” Eddie mutters, tugging you by the hand to head to your locker, as you routinely did.

-

 The week was uneventful to say the least. Quiet conversations with him in the halls and World Geography, loud exclamations in the cafeteria with Hellfire during lunch, written notes exchanged between you and Robin, and a stupid amount of clownery at Family Video. Don’t be fooled, you were also involved in the clownery of course. Eddie visiting you after his gig on Tuesday was a nice surprise, him sneaking in (again) in his leather get up and you tugging him down so you could make out with him and ride him wearing the headband on his head.

Just the headband.

Eddie did try to convince you to hook up in the custodian closet, but you nervously said no to the offer, too scared of the idea of the janitor opening the door in the middle of it.

The third Thursday of November of 1985 rolled around, and it was suddenly Thanksgiving. Your mother spent all morning preparing for the Munsons to come over for dinner. It was filled with constant favours coming your way and doing the little tasks that get lost in the big picture of Thanksgiving. Sure, it was a holiday to get together with your family before Christmas and it was when the holiday spirit started to kick in but man, is it exhausting to prepare for.

You know you love him but when your dad calls from the living room demanding a drink after your sweet mom who has been slaving away in the kitchen all day you want to tell him to get his own damn shit. She has spent all day preparing fucking dinner, for gods sake.

Dressed in your best dress that is both family friendly and makes your boyfriend’s mouth water (the best kind of dress), you’re setting the last of the table settings and cutlery when the front door knocks, knocking the air out of you in the process. Heaven knows why you were even nervous, Wayne being a familiar face to you and Eddie doing movie night with you and your parents are two considerations that lead to a feeling of familiarity and comfort in your mutual families.

The door was opened to two spritely dressed Munson men, both obviously uncomfortable in their best dressed clothes. You weren’t sure you’ve ever seen Wayne dressed in anything but slightly dirty flannel. You were used to Eddie wearing nicer clothing on the occasion, but you preferred him in leather. Eddie wore a smile, the kind he wore when he wanted to water himself down. Wayne simply oozed discomfort. His face was warm, but you weren’t sure if it was the dress clothes or the forced politeness of a family dinner, but he did not seem at ease.

There you stood, in between your mom and dad, wondering how cheesy the three of you had looked for the moment. Was he fighting back laughter at this sitcom of a scenario? Lord knows you were.

A beat passed and your mom was finally the one to break the ice. “Welcome, gentlemen. Come on in, take your coats off.”

“Thanks for inviting us.” Eddie says, and you hate to admit but it sounded rehearsed. Like he and Wayne had practiced it together on the way over.

“Of course! You are welcome anytime; we just made too much food.” Your mom jokes, and the silence in her laughing is deafening.

“I’m just glad I don’t need to cook anything resembling Thanksgiving. It usually crawls away from our plates.” Wayne gruffs out, clearing this throat. You knew Wayne well enough to know that he was joking back to her.

The two men make their way into the door and shrug their jackets off. Eddie must’ve been wearing one of Wayne’s jackets because it just engulfed him, and you figured Wayne yelled at him not to wear the leather. Ed didn’t have anything else, so he borrowed Wayne’s.

As you all make your way over to the dining area, your father starts talking to Wayne, having been on the nightshift together for the last few months since Wayne had picked them up. The two of them continue their quiet conversation, and this is exactly why you and your mom placed Wayne right next to him. They had someone to partake in conversation about work when you and your mom never completely comprehended what it was that he did at work.  

Your mom had you all pray, despite you communicating Eddie’s religious stance. She said that doesn’t make him intolerant of those still choosing to believe, and you were on the fence about this idea.

“So, you two, how are your grades?” Your mom asks right off the bat.

Eddie laughs, still admittedly about a D grade though you had helped him go from an F to a D with passing in homework. “They could probably be better in my case, but they have definitely been worse.”

“And you, Y/N?” She asks pointedly to you.

You look up from where you’re scooping the mash potatoes like a deer in the headlights. “I mean, I don’t have anything below a B. Why?”

“You two just do so much studying I figured you were getting straight As.” Your mom says, eyebrow raised deliberately.

You froze, looking up from your plate with wide eyes and your breathing gains major depth. “Mom!”

Wayne’s laughter catches the whole table’s attention, his hand in a fist with the back of it against his mouth, as if he was holding it in. “Hey, I’ve been telling them that this whole time but they don’t seem to get it.”

You couldn’t even attempt to see if your dad had caught on to what these two assholes were trying to imply off the bat. This goddamn supper was supposed to be a nice family gathering. No. Not in the stars. Dang.

Your glance goes next to you to your boyfriend, and he’s laughing as well. It was more the fact that you were both gained on as soon as they got the chance to rather than humour.

“You think we should leave these kids alone?” He asks, still laughing.

“It’s not as fun if I don’t see her embarrassed.” She says, reaching to you to pet your hair fondly. You jerk out of reach, lowkey pissed. “Why not. Just make sure your nephew starts using the door.”

“Door?” Wayne asked, unsure where this could lead to.

“Mmhm. He seems to insist on using my daughter’s window even though I have told him I will keep the door unlocked or give him a key if it means his van doesn’t startle me for the thousandth time.” Your mom tells him, shooting a cheeky glance towards Eddie.

“Edward” Wayne starts, and your mom finally learns his full name for when she wants to yell at him.

“Hmm?” Eddie turns his head to Wayne, already decided he will still use your window.

“Use their front door or you’ll likely not be welcome at their house anymore.” Wayne explains casually, as if he wasn’t telling off his nephew in front of another family.

“Yes sir.” Eddie nods, and his leg shaking mixed with his hand placed gently on your thigh somehow sends a message he wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

“So, Wayne. Just out of curiosity-” oh no, “why were you the relative chosen to raise your nephew?” Mom what the fuck?

-

Two hours and a buttload more of embarrassing questions from your mom and Wayne being a good sport throughout it all, you’re stuck doing the dishes again. How did you do the prep all day and clean up after it now? You swear you were swaying on the spot as you dried the dishes your boyfriend was carefully washing.

You could hear the idle conversation going away from how Wayne grew up through invasive questions during supper to mindless yet comfortable chatter, and it was terribly comforting. “You okay?” Eddie’s voice interrupts your eavesdropping, and you were startled out of it.

“Hmm?” You ask, looking up at him.

“You okay, princess?” Eddie asks, his movements paused as he expressed his concern.

“Why?”

“You’re rocking back and forth. You’ve also been drying this plate for more than five minutes.” Eddie says, gently grabbing the plate from you.

You shook your head, hoping it shakes you out of it. “I-I’m ok.” Sighing, your hand on your forehead to gain a hold of yourself. “I’ve been up and working in the kitchen since this morning. I’m just tired.”

“Sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.” Eddie states, guiding you to a chair.

“No, no it’s fine. I can do it-” you try to tell him, but he is having none of it.

“Sit.” Your butt lands on the wooden chair and the relief as your forehead hits the table is immediate.

“Put the dishes on the counter if you’re not sure where they go, I can finish it off” you tell him through the table, and Eddie slowly finishes the rest of the dishes by himself.

It feels like only two minutes pass by, and your mom walks into the kitchen, “Hey Eddie when you have a minute-” she stops midway through his sentence, seeing you dead asleep on the table.

Eddie turns toward you fondly, smiling softly as he watched the softness of your breathing as you slept. “She passed out basically the moment she sat down.” Eddie says, finishing drying the last of the dishes. “I was just going to finish cleaning up then wake her.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, when you have a minute your uncle said you do labour chores when you need extra cash mind stopping by when she’s at work on Sunday?” Your mom asks, and Eddie nods wordlessly. “Thanks.” Your mom steps out of the kitchen, and her brain has malfunctioned. For the last few weeks, she has caught him looking at you fondly and it assures her that he is someone who cares for you, but this look startled her. That look was not care; it was love. She had wondered if you two had even said the word yet. She had heard certain things, so she knew that was out of the question, but this was a whole new concept to her, and she needed a moment to wrap her head around it.

Eddie finishes putting the plates on the counter places his hand gently on your back. “Baby.” He mutters, hoping not to startle you wake.

Jokes on him, you always startle awake. “Hmm?” You jerk up off the table.

“Hi. Hi.” It takes you a moment to comprehend and for Eddie’s face to unblur in front of you. “You fell asleep. I think we should get you to bed.”

“Does that mean you’re leaving?” You ask pathetically, your mind not completely awake and aware that your parents can all hear this conversation.

He chuckles and wraps his arm around you. “Probably.” You whine about it, still tired and now cranky from being woken up. “We can talk about it, I promise.”

He escorts you up the stairs, aware of all six eyes watching the two of you as if it was the sweetest thing they’ve ever witnessed. God, adults are weird. When you were laid down onto the bed you curled up immediately into your pillow, a content smile making its way onto your face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?” Eddie asks, sitting next to you, not even sure if he’ll get a response. You just hummed. “You better remember.” Nothing came out. “Sweetheart?” he asks, and he’s sure you’re out cold. He leans in to kiss you on your head and mutters, “I love you” and shuts the door as quietly as he can behind him.

-

Thank God for long weekends. On an ordinary weekend when you had slept over at Eddie’s (Wayne always made sure he was away for the night; more for his sake than yours) Saturdays were taken away from your usual midday shift and suddenly you’re facing a whole week of school and homework on Sunday. You wanted to convince whoever needed convincing weekends needed a third day. You need to spend one more day off with your boyfriend, dammit.

Every Friday you were able to sleep over you made sure you had no homework left over, providing less mental load for when you just want to spend time with him. Thanksgiving had really left little time to make it happen as it usually did, especially falling asleep before 8pm, but the day off provided the time you needed. Who cares, let’s get to the sleep over.

After spending the day bent over your desk, you had packed an over night bag with minimal essentials and were reading an indie fantasy novel he had lent to you when he honked his horn to let you know he was there. He didn’t often honk, as most parents appreciated when boys came to the door, but at this point your mom had understood the deal. You got good grades, you were attending school, and Eddie had proven himself respectful. Seemed you had ‘earned’ the cliché of the bad influence boyfriend honking his horn while blasting his loud death metal music to announce his arrival.

You yell a goodbye and close the door, running out into the early winter air straight to his van. In classic Eddie fashion, he had turned down the loud music when he saw you in the review mirror but continued his headbanging. Considerate, but he’s still doing what he is gonna do. As soon as your door was shut, he put the van into drive and took off to the trailer park.

“What movie did you want to watch?” Eddie asks as he held out his hand to help you out his van. “Are in the mood for like a scary movie, funny, dumb?”

As you step onto the snow and there’s a crunch underneath your foot as you walk to the stairs leading up to the trailer. “I think I want something funny or dumb. Something to laugh at with you.” Eddie smiles at this, and you’re cute as shit.

Eddie goes inside and turns the light on, takes off his jacket and runs around like a headless chicken for a few minutes and you look at the VHS collection for something to watch with him. Eddie comes back from his room, holding a small tin container and a few small ‘gems’. You hold out your pick for him, and he grins maniacally. “I was hoping you would be picking a dumb movie tonight,” Eddie says, watching your ass as you started to set up the VCR.

“Oh, not in the mood for horror? That’s unlike you.” You answer, sitting yourself onto the couch in his arms. “So, what presents do ya have.” You ask, getting a look at what he had gathered from his room.

“I have a proposition for you.” Eddie starts, and you observe he is nervously gnawing on his lips.

“I’m intrigued.” You lean in, already barely paying any attention to the movie already, and the main character hasn’t even been introduced. “Go on.”

He shifts in his seat, hesitating in continuing with his proposal. “You don’t have to, and I would understand if you said no. Sweetheart, I want to get high with you. I do it on my own a bit, but I wanted to show you why I enjoy it, and experience that level of intimacy with you.”

It would’ve been a lie if you said you were expecting this. “I mean, getting high isn’t really my thing.”

Eddie laughs, not maliciously, just out of love. “I’m not expecting you to smoke it everyday. Being high this often comes with a lot of dead brain cells.” He jokes, sticking his tongue out of his mouth. “I do think people need to experience it at least once. It’s super freeing. We can sit here and look pretty and cuddle. I was waiting for a day where you could sleep over when you didn’t have to work tomorrow so you don’t have to see your parents until after you have time to shower.”

On the one hand, your heart stutters at the thought Eddie putting this much thought into smoking with you, giving you the full moment bask it in and recover the next day. On the other hand, the idea of smoking weed had barely crossed your mind, it was on the other realm of your life’s experience. A girl who is getting good grades and too shy to speak to her crush for three whole years is barely spending her weekends being blazed. On a theoretical third hand, there has been an impulsive thought where you had wondered what Eddie was like when he was blissed and why he didn’t seem to feel comfortable getting high around you. “I’m not against it.”

“What’s holding you back?” He asks pulling you against him tighter so you’re basically laying onto him.

“I-I was risen with the drugs bad campaign. Though now that I think about it if my parents go to a hook-up restaurant then they definitely smoked pot. Our elementary school had that assembly that yelled at us about how pot would kill us and there would be adults offering crack cocaine-”

Eddie snorts, interrupting you. “Yeah crack is a bit too expensive to be offering to any person on the street.”

“You’re not who I exactly pictured when they told me about the dangers of drugs, baby.” You answer, remembering the clear picture of a flasher with a trench coat opening to reveal several different labelled drugs. You sigh, and the idea of being in ignorant bliss is feels more tempting.

“Anything else holding you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks patiently, caressing your shoulder as he watches over you patiently.

You adjust yourself so you’re now laying on top of him chest to chest. “I’m scared I’ll get anxious and freak out.”

Eddie rubs your back, understanding this point of view. He did mushrooms about two years ago and it’s the kind of drug that you need to relax into, or you will have a terrible trip. Especially in Eddie’s case before he met his dealer Reefer Rick he would buy and not be 100% sure if what he was taking was safe. Pot is something you want to relax into but if you become hyper aware of your state it’s not detrimental, just shitty. “Yeah, that’s fair. The good news is you are with some one who” LOVES YOU “cares about you and will make sure you don’t smoke too much on your first time. Things get out of hand when you smoke with people who don’t care with you.”

“You wanna help me for my first time?” You ask, the innuendo too much to look over.

“If you got to teach me, why shouldn’t I repay the favour?” Eddie asks, understanding entirely what you meant. You lean in for a kiss, drinking in the feeling his lips never failed to give you. The kiss ends, you stare at him half lidded before nodding your head. Eddie smiles, a glint appearing into his eyes out of nowhere. “I need verbal confirmation, sweetheart. Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his insistence on getting your consent on a regular basis but there are worse things to annoy you in the world. He just is making sure you don’t feel pressured into something you didn’t want to do. “Yes. Teach me how to smoke weed with you.”

“Cool.” Eddie sits up without warning, startling you as you roll backwards over your feet. When you give him, a warning look of ‘what was that’ he looks apologetic in forgetting you were on top of him in his excitement. “Sorry, sweetheart. I got excited. Holy shit. Ok. Gimme a sec.”

Eddie runs to a spot by the front door and climbs onto a chair and opens a roof vent. He hops off the chair and runs with it to his own room and presumably opens a vent there as well. Eddie jogs back with the chair in one hand and a lighter in the other and drops his chair off at its permanent location. You wondered if he used it for anything other than opening the vents.

He sits down, and he starts to move around his little tins. You watch him, fascinated by watching him work in a way you haven’t been able to see before. “What are you doing?”

You watch him and he pulls out a plastic baggy holding little green leafy clumps and a smell hits your nose you didn’t realize you had recognized. He opens the baggy and grabs one of the smaller clumps and moves on to a metallic round container with the same circumference as a golf ball. You watch his hands work, obviously idle and used to the habit by now. His fingers work to open the round container to show a series of seemingly sharp spikes spread equally around the surface area on both the lid and the bottom. He places the little ball into the circle and closes the container. You hear a grinding sound, like the sound of an Etch-A-Sketch and see Eddie using both hands to turn the container.

Honestly, you had no idea what he was doing or how you were about to smoke it, but it was cool. You watched the rest of the process, Eddie bringing out his rolling papers and filling it with a now smaller but similar substance to the stuff in the baggy and carefully rolling them up. It seemed like an art, almost. When the process was completed, Eddie proudly held up the joint and held it for you to see.

“Ta-da!” Eddie exclaims dramatically, his other hand’s fingers spread out. “I present to you our humble guide.” He puts down the joint and starts to add some to a new rolling paper.

“Are we smoking more than one?” You ask, adjusting yourself so you’re watching what he was doing more closely.

“You are taking two, maybe three inhales from this one. You don’t know it, but it’s decently sized. I, on the other hand, have an intense tolerance for this stuff so I need to smoke a little bit more.

“How much more?” You ask innocently, staring at the lone joint he put down on the table.

“Oh, maybe 5 or 6 more.” He answered casually, starting to roll up the second one. Your eyes widened at this thought, wondering if he was more chronic than you had anticipated. Eddie glances to see your pretty face while he rolls the joint and he laughs at your comically wide eyes. “I might indulge frequently but I never drive while high, made that mistake once and I haven’t seen my uncle more disappointed in me. Even when I said I failed grade 12 again. Trust me. There’s nothing more nerve wrecking than seeing that man’s face on the morning after I had confessed, I drove home while high.”

Eddie slaps his hands on his thighs, the international symbol for ‘alright let’s do this’. “Alright. Do you know how to light or use a cigarette?” He asks, turning his body to face you. You shook your head, bewildered. Has he met you? “Right, so when you inhale, you need to be taking the smoke right into your lungs. An easy trick I have learned to help newbies is to take it into your mouth first, then you sharply inhale to take it into your lungs.” You nodded, your student trained hands itching for a pen to write it down, so you don’t forget anything. “Hold it in for as long as you can. The longer, the better. If, if, if you choose to keep smoking on the occasion, you’ll find that your lung capacity will decrease and you won’t be able to hold that smoke in as long.”

You blinked rapidly, absorbing the buttload information Eddie has just provided you with. You didn’t realize there was so much to it.

“Don’t worry. You’ll stop overthinking about it when it starts to sink in. Warning, since you don’t know what it feels like exactly you might not realize you’re high and then it might hit you pretty hard. Which is why I’m here to provide you assurance.” Eddie warns and comforts you. “Are you still up for it?”

“Bring it on.” You’re not entirely convinced by this yourself, but the details and idea were intriguing to say the least.

Eddie gives you a wicked smile, his dimples pronounced and a crazy look in his eyes you could only assume was bizarre excitement. “Alright. Hold this up to your mouth, I’ll light it and tell you when to inhale.” You tentatively hold the joint for the first time, and it’s more fragile than you had expected. Your shaky hands hold it in a pincer grasp. Your eyes cross and focus on the lighter Eddie puts to the end of it, a white twisty part. The end is lit and spark flies as the end burns up fast. The joint burns up fast, and smoke starts to come out of it. “Now” Eddie gently says, and you start to attempt what he has described to you.

The smoke goes into your mouth, and you could taste what you had smelled when he opened the baggy. Step by step, you remove the joint from your mouth, sharply inhale the smoke into your lungs and a tang of discomfort tells you that you did it right. You thought you might be able to hold your breath for a good amount of time, but your lungs expel the smoke immediately, bringing out a coughing fit.

“That’s a good girl!” Eddie says, patting your back as he takes in his first inhale, dusting ash into an ashtray you hadn’t even noticed was in front of you. “Thirsty?” He asks, offering an ice-cold Coke.

You take the pop with gratitude, wondering how he knew exactly what you had needed. “Good? I coughed it all out.” You asked, curious to what you did was good when he had told you to keep it in your lungs as long as possible.

“Your lungs are clean. Usually if someone doesn’t cough their first inhale it means they did it wrong. Coughing is an excellent sign you did it just right. Need another hit?” Eddie offers the joint back, and it’s noticeably decreased in size, blackened on the end of it.

You nodded, not really feeling anything yet. You took a hit again, using the same steps, not coughing as bad this time. “Don’t you use a glass thing?” you ask, vaguely remembering seeing something in his room once or twice.

Eddie chuckled at your sweet ignorance, finishing the last of the joint you had handed to him. “A bong? Yeah that’s not meant for the first time smoking, sweetheart. Seriously, the last guy I saw try a bong for the first time he threw up almost immediately. It hits your throat a lot harder, even with ice.”

You weren’t sure how ice had anything to do with it, but you didn’t care. An urge to crawl into Eddie’s arms hit and you slowly started to crawl into him. “Wow okay you’re definitely high.” Eddie comments as you sprawl yourself onto his body.

“Huh?” You ask, lying on his chest and half paying attention to the movie. “I can’t even feel it.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, petting your hair. “Look at me.” You turn your head to face him, and he bites back laughter. “Yeah, I knew it. You’re smiling.”

“So? Can’t smile at my boyfriend?” You ask, unsure of what that had to do with anything.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, you can smile, and I love it when I see that beautiful smile, baby. But usually, the smile sitting on your face right now is reserved for the stoned. And you, my dear, are very stoned.”

As you watch the movie, your breathing even and Eddie’s heartbeat in your ear, you start to think about the smile sitting on your face. As it sits you wonder if you can de-smile, so to say. You try to wipe it off your face, but it proves impossible and does the opposite as you giggle from the ridiculousness.

“Definitely stoned.” Eddie says with a fondness in his voice.

“Baby.” You say, crawling up to him. “Can-can we kiss? I want kisses. Please?”

Eddie nods, taking in your half-mooned eyes and your sleepy disposition. “Of course, sweetheart.”

After the two of you make out for a little, Eddie’s knee finding it’s way in between your legs, for the first time you direct him away from going any further. “I-I just don’t think I’m in a good state for that. Keep it PG?”

Eddie agrees without any protest, understanding in full. When the kissing ceases, you lie on his chest for a healthy amount of time, you figure out why they call it being high. It feels like you’re elevated, floating, everything is hazy, and it might take you longer to cognitively function but things feel safe.

You laid on Eddie without talking until well into the credits, and it seemed like you were paying attention to every name it had mentioned. Eddie was tempted to put on one of his favourite marijuana-associated movies, but he was afraid it would just freak you out. He went to the exact opposite and put in the only Disney movie he and his uncle owned, Lady and the Tramp.

When Eddie got up to change the tapes you had protested loudly in him leaving but it was all good when you knew he was only right in front of you. He waddled back to the couch but were terribly irritated when he sat down rather than laying for you to crawl on him again. “You’ll be fine, I’m just smoking a few more puffs so I can lie down with you, ok?”

You nod, leaning back as the Disney credits started. When you saw the title, you smirked at Eddie with what you thought was a side eye mixed with a smirk. Really, you were just smiling wildly, rivalling Eddie’s own wild smile.  

Towards the end of the movie, after the talking cartoon dogs started to mess you up a little but you didn’t communicate it on the grounds of not wanting to be made fun of, Eddie gently sets you up, and you get a good look at his face for the first time in a while. You understood what Eddie meant by stoners sport the smile, because he was wearing the same one. “Okay, princess. Bedtime for both of us.”

“I like sitting on the couch with you, though.” You whine, the idea of getting up to go to his bed too much and wanting to sleep there.

Eddie knew why, so he lifts you up onto his shoulders and down the hall to his room, turning off the appropriate lights and the tv on the way there. Your back hits his bed, and you yank onto him, causing him to yelp as his jeans were barely off his ass when he’s attempting to take them off for bed. “Hey, hey! He yells, nearly falling over. Lemme take my shit off then I’ll cuddle ya, you stoner.”

So you do, watching contently as he whizzes around his room getting shit ready for bed. He was tempted to ask if you wanted snacks, but he’ll let you discover the love of the munchies for another day. “How you feel, hmm?” He asks after turning the lights off and getting into bed with you.

“Nice. This is a nice feeling.” You comment, moving your hands across his chest, not sexually, just playing with the light patch of chest hair. “I can see why you and the football players enjoy it.”

“Those guys snort a lot of coke.” He sighs, not aware of what he was saying as he fell asleep.

“Huh.” You answer, and you were on your way to dreamland as well.

The night ends like this, the two of you wrapped up in your own little cocoon. Wayne comes to the house smelling like pot and his ashtray full of new filters on the coffee table with unopened chip bags by the tv. Seemed like you two had a good night, considering you made it to the bed.

-

The following Sunday Steve and Robin restlessly ask Eddie what you were like while you were high as he crashed Family Video. There seemed to be a collective idea of congratulations towards Eddie for managing to corrupt you more than they ever were. You side-eyed the three of them, pissed at the very idea of ‘being corrupted’; like you were a child.

It was the last week of November, and Mike was getting mad excited about El coming up to see Mike for Christmas. It was debated if Will would tag along to see the gang, but Will was insistent that he spend Christmas with his mom. At least that’s what Mike told everyone.

Dustin and Lucas were both calling Will on a semi-regular basis to inform him on DnD shenanigans and talk yet Mike has some weird hesitance over calling Will. (Despite Dustin nagging him to just fucking call him.) There was a common belief that Mike didn’t even ask Will to come down, but no one actually wanted to ask. Mike is a defensive asshole sometimes.

Regardless of whatever rumours were being spread, even about your own friends, his excitement was according to you, adorable. According to Eddie, it was adorable about the first few times now it’s just annoying.  

The Friday when El arrived in the evening Nancy had spent all lunch dreading it, explaining she’ll need a barf bag from the mere mushiness El and Mike were about to present to her square in the face. You let her rant about it, yet secretly was excited for their reunion. (After all, you knew they had a connection.)

As much as you wanted to join them for a reunion, you had asked for them to tape it for you or at least take photos cause you had a hot date at Chef’s Table and you and Eddie wanted to do it right this time.

As you stood at your stuffed closet, you stared at the all the options, wondering about the general dress code for the night. Since your stunt during your first week (you had it down bad) together there has been a silent agreement of anything that you are anxious if you move will show something, you can wear it for him. (Which you have) If his fingers are going there anyway, might as well assist, no?

The phone rings, you allow your mom to pick it up. It’s Eddie. Is…is he not getting ready for your date, too?

“Baby?” You answer, attempting to decide between two aesthetically different dresses, one that is only held on your body by a string. You bought it on a whim with some extra money from work but it hasn’t seen the light of day, hidden in a box in your closet. “What’s up?”

“Yeah hi sweetheart I was just calling to make one thing clear. Wear the smallest dress. Whatever dress you are unsure if you should wear, wear it. You can wear my jacket on the way. Understand?” Eddie says, and you get the idea from his tone that he’s not giving you much of a choice in the matter. Not that you had any protest in his demands, in fact you were going to be well prepped for when the first move was made. “Princess?”

You squeezed your legs tightly to slightly appease the burning in your groin. “Yeah, I hear you, baby. See you soon?”

“Count on it.” The line goes dead.

Well, it’s decided. Tiny little dress held together by sheer stubbornness wins by Eddie demanding it into existence.

Eddie’s phone call was forty five minutes before he was due to pick you up. It gave you forty minutes to get ready. Your makeup went a more natural glam and but your hair a fluffy 80s dream. You wore some thigh high tights to give the illusion of some abstinence to your mother. Your dress sat right where your tights ended, some how perfectly feeding into it.

You were applying the last of your lip gloss on your vanity when the sound of a knuckle knocking thrice against your window startled you. When you open it, there he is, except not in his usual date-night wear. Usually he’s dressed to impress your mom, and while the effort of it turned you on, it was when he wore the leather jackets that got you all riled up. White knights in white shirts are great, fine even, but when he’s coming from a performance in leather you have to do your best not to drag him into the back and blow his brains out.

Tonight, the leather jacket was on over a band tshirt it looks as if he just threw something on. Why did this drench your panties more than his ironed white shirts carefully tucked in unripped jeans ever have? When you lift the window at his request, he lifts one leg in, showing purposely dishevelled jeans and the chain on his left hip. “Hi, baby.” You greet him.

“Hi. Come on, taking you out.” He says simply, his voice calm and deep as he offers you to grab his hand.

You hesitate, your hand lifted slightly as if you wondered what your mom would have to say after her constant insisting that Eddie take the front door if she didn’t see you off for your date.  

“You think she’s gonna let you out the door? C’mon. We’ll take the heat for it later. This is our night.” He says, gripping onto your hand tighter than he might’ve intended as he lead you onto your roof. As you’re both halfway running to his van, you giggling the whole time you can see a light turn on and Eddie’s out of the driveway by the time she opens the door.

You’re in for it when you got home.

He’s chuckling with you, his hand effortlessly linking into your own as he recklessly drives to the restaurant. His windows are down, single handily running the hard work you had both put into your hair. Not a single care evaded your body as you relaxed next to him, used to his loud music and his even louder singing. How he managed to head-bang, avoid the police speed-wise, and still stroke your hand with his ringed fingers all at same time eluded you but you had learned to embrace and relax in his craziness.

You smiled at him, the word on your mind. Too scared to say it, wouldn’t everything change? Too scared for it to stay the same.

He pulled into the parking lot, somehow managing to take four spots at once, like some sort of exaggerated asshole. He usually doesn’t park that bad, but it seemed instead dressing to impress, he was dressing himself down to excite.

Excite you, that is.

On some primal level Eddie could tell that the white shirts and coming to front door has overstayed its welcome. Now that you knew him, far better than you ever could by watching him, by talking, laughing, fucking him, a white button-up just isn’t him. Last time he wore it you snapped it off the buttons, ripping the shirt open from the middle.

Even if he wanted to wear the button down he couldn’t, the buttons were still scattered all over his bedroom floor.

He knew you were begging for the side of him you found hot when you were watching him all those years, a scratching, anxious version of you begging to see the rebellious side of him. Not just when he fucks you, when he’s luring you into last minute quickies that just nearly get you into trouble. Even though he’s there underneath the manicured parent-friendly version of him, you want to visually see him. Right there, on your dates. Where he doesn’t have to talk quietly or over politely. You wanted him to be himself. The man you fell in love with.

You knew him. What he liked, what got him all in a twist, what got him really going if you had really wanted to, how badly his parents had messed him up… (Three months can teach you so much, but bitch you knew him.) Point is, you could see passed the put together façade he had put on, even for you and chose behind the person behind it. (You didn’t want the façade on date with you. You wanted him.)

Also he’s just smoking hot, and having him in his jacket with that ruffled hair, across from you on a hot date, it would make you go feral. Which is why when he yanks you out of his van you’re nearly buzzing in excitement. This date was turning out exactly the way you had hoped. A make up date, in every sense.

The two of you burst into the place, still hushed, reserved, and acting like it’s not the hook up spot in town. Now that you no longer had your blinders on, on your way to the table this time you had noticed the couples that were also sitting in here. Most of them were really close to one another talking softly or already kissing. If you had taken the moment to take a look at them it might’ve given you a clue as to what sort of place this was, which would’ve given you the courage you needed when you wanted to make out with him.

A different host lead you this time, handing you both menus and giving you a look on his way back to the front. He understood. You scooted your butt into the round booth, settling at about one cushion from the exit for the table. “Get that cute ass over here.” Eddie tells you, in the middle of the table. He has you scoot down until you’re right up next to him, barely enough room to do anything but talk or let wandering hands go where they might.  

A side of you is nervous, shaky at the prospect of being touched like so in public. Every time he tries, attempting to get more frisky, you shyly shake your head no, no matter how exciting it sounds. “You alright, princess?” Eddie asks, soothing your knee with his thumb, sensing your anxiety.

“I’m ok. Should we look at the menu?” You ask, willing to distract your self from the nervousness and the increasingly damp spot on your lacy panties.

“Pretty sure you’re the only thing on the menu, no?” Eddie asks, his hand landing harder on your thigh, massaging it, knowing what he’s doing as he watches your eyes roll back. “Are you up for something crazy?”

“Anything,” you gasp out subconsciously, not completely aware of what slips out until it does.

Eddie laughs, placing his arm around you to whisper in your ear. “Okay, so after someone asks our drink order I’m gonna slip under the table. When they come back, I want you to order our appetizer, let’s say we’ll get some break sticks and beef dip, fuck, I don’t know. Order something. While you do that I’m gonna be tasting that pretty little,” he slips his hand up your thigh to your centre “soaked pussy of yours. Try your best, yeah?”

He takes his hand out from where it was placed, right at your centre were it was exuding warmth as he hears footsteps of the waitress coming. You knew her voice as soon as she started speaking. “Hi, I’m Daisy, I’ll be your waitress. What can I get started to drink for you?”

Daisy was a frequent flyer in your mind when you couldn’t sleep at night. The girl was a sharp reminder of what you thought might take him away from you. The version of her that you remembered was a girl who reminded you of your own insecurities and managed to make a uniform look decent.

This girl was pretty, but not that pretty. There’s a pimple on her forehead that’s a clear whitehead, a piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth, and her slick pulled back hair had boat load of flyaways. Time is kind, and maybe you needed to see her again to know that Daisy wasn’t going to take him, with or without the flaws you had just noticed. He was yours. The look on her face told you that she recognized you off the bat.

“I’ll get a water.” You state, knowing you’ll probably need to remain hydrated.

“Same.” Eddie states, licking his lips in anticipation for when she leaves.

“Alright. I’ll be back to take your order then.” Daisy drones, and this time you realized she was talking to the both of you.

You barely had a moment to watch her walk back and Eddie has already slipped underneath the tablecloth. “Holy shit. So pretty.” He mutters, more himself than to you. He wanted you to fucking stutter while talking and water was an easy drink to grab, so he had to move fast. Your underwear was off in one swift movement, and he attacked your pussy like he was dying of thirst and your pussy was the first drop of water after a week in a desert.

Your eyes closed immediately upon welcoming the warmth and the pleasure that rushes through you. After only moments of basking in the feeling Eddie pinches you, warning he can hear footsteps, and this was the lowest trafficked table in the restaurant it was definitely Daisy. You sit up, opening your eyes quickly and attempting to get yourself out the haze.

“Here’s your water,” she says, not looking up taking her notebook out. “are you ready to order-” she starts, and stops when she realizes Eddie wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “I can come back when he’s back from the bathroom if you need me to.” She says, absentmindedly.

You’re attempted to accept the offer, but Eddie pinches your thigh and uses his tongue harder to encourage you to speak. “Uh-no it’s okay. We decided on some a-appetizers.” You let out a hard breath, and Eddie has started to go to town on you, as if racing you to the finish line.

“Ok go ahead.” Daisy says after she had to search for her pen.

“We’ll have the uh-” you pause, “sorry, stomach-ache. We’ll have the bread sticks and the spinach dip, please.” You manage out, hitting the seat hard when you’re starting to get to the edge.

“Are you guys having any main entrees tonight, or just appies?” She asks, bored and fiddling with her notebook.

Your breathing has gotten shallower and you’re wondering if she has caught on yet. “Uh, no. Just that for now.”

Eddie adds a finger, frustrated that you’re managing to speak so well when you had drenched the leather booth beneath your thighs. The finger nearly makes you yelp and as he crooks it into a hook against your g-spot he brings you right to the edge, impossibly fast yet on a mission.

“Alright then” Daisy grabs your menus, you flailingly push yours to her, barely helping her as you go over the edge with your top teeth biting on your bottom lip hard. Daisy gives you a side eye, walking away weirded out from the interaction.

You ride the last of your orgasm as she walks away starting to ride your hips shamelessly against his mouth as the last wave heats from your center and even makes a pit stop in your head. Eddie peaks his head from behind the table cloth, mouth wet, and a twinkle in his eye as he looks up at you. If you see this face and only this image of his face for the rest of your life you will die happy. “How was that sweetheart?”

“What was that, five minutes?” You ask, grinding your hips lightly as he rubs your labia lightly, teasing how sensitive you now were.

“More like three and a half but who’s counting.” Eddie jokes, sliding to sit back next to you. You notice he’s holding your panties in his hand, sticks in his leather jacket pocket. “You were so fucking wet, which helped a bit, I must admit.” Eddie comments, taking a sip from his water. As soon as the glass his the table his lips are on yours, maneuvering the two of you so you’re intertwined, one leg on his yet still sitting.

He wraps your lips up in a magnificent kiss, connecting his tongue onto yours as soon as he could, just needing the very taste in your mouth. You could taste yourself in his saliva, the very idea absurdly hot. You stay like that, willing to take in whatever you can, taste from him, your hand make it’s way up into his long hair and gripping at the scalp, managing a whine out of him. You can’t help but giggle at his response and he jerks back, his eyes assessing you for a moment, carefully. “What are you giggling at?”

Eddie leans into kiss you, further left than your lips. He leans down to your jaw line, kissing it down and down to your neck. You lean back as he starts to bite and suck on your skin, causing little whimpers out from your pretty lips. “So pretty, so needy.” Eddie comments as your eyes roll back at his love bites.

“Here is you- oh, sorry.” Daisy says, carrying both your appetizers. She sets them down carefully, and Eddie barely moves from where you’re both stationed, as if he was proud of being interrupted in the middle of marking your neck. “A-anything else I can grab the both of you?”

You look at her name tag to check it’s the same waitress who shamelessly flirted with Eddie right in front of you, because she can barely look you in the eye.

“Uh yeah, Daisy can you just leave us alone for about fifteen, twenty minutes then bring us a check? Nice hefty tip in it for ya.” Eddie says, looking at his nails as he says it. It’s rude but it gets his message across. Don’t bother us.

“Got it. Be back in twenty minutes with your bill.” She says, and walks off with out another word, blushing furiously. If she had worked at this restaurant long enough to know when to flirt, wouldn’t she be used to a request like this?

“Alright we have twenty minutes.” Eddie states, and you realized his belt was already unbuckled and his button undone. “C’mon get on.”

“You wanna?” You ask, nodding to his now free cock.

“That was the point, was it not?” He asks, and it’s almost unlike him the way he’s propositioning you. Usually, he’s soft and restrained in his methods. Even when he’s asking you for a quickie there’s a softer tone.

Right now, he basically point-blank said to just get on his dick. This side of him doesn’t usually come out until you’re already on it, using slut-shaming as a method to egg you and him on. However, the most surprising thing about it was this had worked on you. You were turned on by how rough he was. “I guess, I thought we were doing just hand stuff.”

“That’s ok for the lighter booths. This is not the one for hand stuff. It’s in a corner for a reason. C’mon. Hop on daddy’s dick.” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you closer to his hips.

It doesn’t take much convincing for you. You move your leg around his hip so you’re straddling him, and your dress is scrunched up to your stomach, revealing your ass to anyone who would pass you by. He lines his cock up to your entrance, rubbing and tapping lightly, teasing you. “We have fifteen minutes, put your fucking cock-” before you could even finish your sentence he pushes himself into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fills you up.

He starts fucking you, foregoing any waiting period due to how wet you already were. After letting you enjoy his continuously improving hip thrusts and technique he stops, moving his hands to your hips. “Alright. Your turn. Ride me, baby.”

You start to move your hips, rolling them so his cock his a spot you need it to every time. You were perched tall and your mouth in a small oh shape, gasping out little moans as you worked your hips. Eddie reaches down to expose a tit, starting to massage and kiss at it. “Oh you little slut, couldn’t even wait until we got home, eh?”

“You didn’t- oh- you didn’t give me much choice.” You gasped out, staring at Eddie as he still wraps his tongue around your budded nipple. “I would do so much for you, daddy.”

“Oh, you have, baby. You have. Oh shit- yeah keep riding me like that, oh, shit. Gonna fill you up.” Eddie grunts, starting to help you as you ride him.

“Already?” You half joke, feeling as his thrusts become more erratic and harder.

“Oh I’ll fill you the amount of times fifteen minutes gives me, sweetheart. Whether that be once or six times, you’ll be dripping in me by the time we leave.” Eddie continues to thrust into you, and you’re basically literally hopping on it. He freezes all of the sudden, his face jerking in a small O shape as you feel him fill you up.

“More?” You ask after a moment as he catches his breath while he’s still in you.

“You want more?” Eddie asks, his hands on your hips, rubbing your stomach lightly with his thumbs. As he rubs your stomach, feeling it grumble in hunger. “Hungry, sweetheart?”

“A little.” You admit, thinking about the smell of the still fresh bread.

“Hmm. One more then we’ll sit down and eat?” Eddie asks, starting to fuck into you again.

It felt too good to pass up. You nod as he continues faster, licking your two pointer fingers rub at your clit to help yourself and him and you two enjoyed taking your time but it seemed the combined hunger and the combined lust you two felt just turned into this animalistic need for one another and for food.

Is this what cavemen felt?

By the end your nails were digging deep into his neck, he’s holding your ass hard enough to cause bruising. Your legs are sore from doing a lot of the work and you’re out of breath and usually you would take a time out from it, but you were just horny and hungry and wanted him.

You grabbed at his scalp, scratching your hand into grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling. Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, most times you missed is when he knew your eyes were closed. It was basically that and the fact that he was unloading for the second time into you within ten minutes that had you be able to cum yourself, lurching yourself into his chest. An instinct that took over you for a moment startled Eddie, but he was ready to help how you needed. You just needed to be held. Specifically by this man, this man who you just experienced this moment with, this bonding just completely shook you.

The first thing he did to help was make sure if you cried long enough for Daisy to come with the check you were decent, (and so was he.) He only offered to hold you, offered bread when given the chance, which you graciously accepted, as you were still hungry. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.” You say softly, offering him some spinach dip. He slurped it off your fingers, in attempt to make you laugh, and it worked.

“Hey you laughed!” And you knew why you were crying.

“What you thought I was sad?” You ask as if you knew this whole time. “I’m really fucking happy, baby. I just didn’t know  how to respond or process it, so my brain went to crying. ”

“No regret? Shame? We’re okay?” Eddie asks, just to be sure.

You nod, leaning in for a nice chaste kiss. You two are hushed conversation, teasing one another in a game of “oh I can take you on” for different board games Eddie knew about. You weren’t very competitive but with Eddie during games, especially when he cheats, is always a winner so you had to figure out how to stop him.

Daisy knocks twice on the booth, and Eddie yells out “We’re good!” You giggle, pushing him as he gives annoying kisses to your face. “Hi guys, here’s the bill.”

A pang of guilt as you see her face again is presented to you, in the after glow of cumming as hard as you did. The flyaways in her hair frame her face nicely, her pimple looks like she had picked at it so now it’s a scab, ouch, and the green in her teeth hasn’t been fixed. She looks like a fucking person. Not some whore who’s trying to take your boyfriend.

“Hey Daisy. I’m so sorry, you have something stuck in your teeth.” You tell her with the kindest voice you could muster so she knew you weren’t being catty. “I also wanted to say your lip gloss is amazing. Both times I’ve come they have stayed on your lips the whole time. Are you just like reapplying consistently or do you have gloss you need to tell me about?”

It all came out at once, but you did want to know. Reapplying gloss at work gets so taxing sometimes. “Uh thanks, I think it’s by MAC.” She pauses as Eddie looks at the check, lost in your conversation all the sudden. She pauses but he takes another minute to get his wallet out. “I got it when we had the mall. There is a MAC across down, like ten minute drive and way out of the way but it’s the exact store. All their glosses stay forever.”

“Baby, grab your jacket before you pay.” You request, getting him to listen to you before he does. You take out 100 from his pocket, (the food was 20 bucks maybe), and say “Keep the change, and thanks for giving us the time. We’ll make sure to get this booth next time.”

“Uh, sure. Have a great night, guys.” The only thing that would’ve made it weirder if she apologized for flirting with him last time. She didn’t, life isn’t always a movie.

As you follow Eddie out, yanking his leather jacket as he had promised and it’s nearly Christmas and you’re out side at 9’clock you were gonna need it. The leather jacket fitted nicely down to your hemline of your dress, showing exactly what you wanted to.

Your hands are once again interlocked, talking softly as he drove gently back to his trailer. It was an off week so you weren’t spending the night but your curfew was midnight so you might as well be. “You know, Steve made a joke about you me and him yesterday, and I was like ‘You can’t handle another threesome from us.’” You partially joke.

“Oh I dunno I heard some shit I gotta have to chance to see. Why was I the dude that sucked dick I wanted a turn. Plus, I wanted him to top me.” Sounds like he had thoroughly thought this through before.

“Oh baby.” You say giggling, feeling hazy and ready to sleep for hours. “I love you, but you could not take Steve Harrington. I can’t-” You stop, and wake right back up when you realize what you had just said. “Did I just say…” you drift off.

Eddie slows down as he hits the gravel in his trailer park, breathing heavily as he barely reaches 5 miles per hour right to his spot. “Yeah, you just said.” Eddie nods, wondering if he had heard you right.

“When I was talking about-”

“Steve Harrington railing me? Yeah, you did.” There’s a smile in his undertone, letting you know he was quite pleased. “Did you mean it?” He asks, and the word is suddenly choking him, refusing to stay in

“Yeah. I do.” You say, petting his hand gently as you veered into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Fuck, I love you too.” He mutters, under his breath and completely winded by it the word finally breaking free of his throat. “I love you. I love you.” You giggle as Eddie holds your forehead and aggressively smooch into your forehead. “Fuck I’ve wanted to say that for weeks. I love you.”

You smile, thinking how he was sounding like a love struck dope, something that you usually fell into. How much it would’ve been true if Eddie, with his emotional trauma, was saying it.  

“I love you.” You wanted to say it on purpose instead the middle of a random already forgotten sentence. “I really love you. I love you.” It came out as you were connected by the foreheads and his response is a sharp inhale and he kissed you in full force.

That was the night you fucked three more times until you went home.

-

That Saturday morning you spent twenty minutes asking yourself if last night was real, if any of your life was real. Remembering the look his eyes as he cradled you, fucking you gently, rolling his hips ever so slowly. You’ve never felt so loved before, by anyone, let alone any man.

You found it hard not to giggle as you run downstairs to grab some breakfast. You were spreading butter on a bagel with a stupid smile on your face when your mom slides right next to you, arms crossed and facial expression unreadable. You nearly ask what’s wrong when the memory of you slipping through your window last night hits your face, Eddie saying ‘we’ll deal with it in the morning.’

Well, it’s morning.

“Hi.” You mutter, starting to munch on the bagel absentmindedly.

The sound of her sigh invades your ears, and you’re scared for your social life. “Hi. I think you can guess what I would like to talk about.”

“I have some guesses.” You joke, leaning up against your counter.

“I know you’re 18. Technically you’re an adult. Hell when I was 18 I was already in college doing much more scandalous things than sneaking out my bedroom window.” She admits, mostly to herself than to you. “Sometimes I think I’m pretty lucky to have a girl who started rebelling in her senior year and still manages to keep her grades up.” She sighs, looking around her, wondering how the hell she was going to get the message across. “Look, honey something has been going on in this town. Every time something goes on, every year, I have no idea where you are until hours after when I’m picking you up all bloodied and bruised up like you’d gone to war. I’ve never asked because you don’t seem too keen on telling me. Me knowing where you are has nothing to do with your boyfriend who plays guitar or being controlling. It has to do with Hawkins. I just need to know you are safe. If you two are so insistent on using the damn window then tell me good bye that you’re heading out. I don’t want to fight the wrong fight on this.”

It had never occurred to you that she had been curious about the number of times you needed a ride home sporting some new bruises, she never talked about it, never asked. You wonder if her and Karen ever talk about it.  

“So I can keep using the window, I just have to tell you when I’m leaving?” You ask, making sure it was clear.

“Yes. You looked happy. Hate to burst your bubble. Anything on your mind?”

Your body felt like it was about to explode. “I told him I loved him. He said it back. It was a pretty nice date.”

“Must’ve been. Chef’s Table, I bet?” She asks, starting to clean up the kitchen post-breakfast.

“I never agreed nor denied.” You comment, shoving the last of your bagel in your mouth.

She lets it slide, knowing that you have even told her you had used the L word was a pretty big miracle in the land of raising Teenage Girls. “Any plans for the day?”

“El just got in from the airport, she’s staying at the Wheelers so I’m going to stop in and say hi to her.” There was a hint of excitement, having been months since you’ve last seen her. Fresh from a winning battle yet mysteriously lost her powers. From what Mike informs you her letters express having made several friends and enjoying California. You’re mostly jealous she’s not suffering an Indiana winter and in the Californian winter.

“Alright. Go on. Start telling me when you’re leaving the house. I don’t need to know where you are all the time. Just tell me where you are.” You finish off chewing the rest of your bagel, running up the stairs to grab your bags and keys to head out.

-

The moment you arrive at the Wheelers you can tell everyone had beaten you to it. It was only 9 in the morning how was everyone already there? You mention a hello to Karen on the way down the stairs, noting her flustered stature as she rushes to make snacks for 8 hungry teenagers. She didn’t seem too bothered, this was her in her prime.

“Someone slept in this morning!” Steve welcomes you as you walk down the stairs.

“How are you all here, it’s barely 9.” You comment, knowing all the boys sleep in on the weekends.

“I live here and you won’t leave.” Mike states, sitting on the couch with El on his lap. You tilt your head, noting his hypocrisy.

“We all slept over in the basement last night.” Max states, sitting separately on the couch, Lucas at her feet.

“Oh damn. I mean when Steve got us the table he didn’t really give us a choice to the date of the reservation.” You comment, leaning up against a table next to Robin, placing your head on her shoulder.

She bumps her shoulder and Nancy comes from across the room. “Ooh, how was your date anyhow?” She attempts to ask you in a hushed tone, but it doesn’t work. Steve announcing your entrance was enough to keep everyone’s attention on you still.

“Yeah I’m not saying shit while the younglings are here. You’ll have to hold.” You state, aware of your audience.

Steve comes over, dumb little smirk on his face. “So there is something to say? A good night in the best booth in the restaurant, eh?” He asks, elbowing you obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, and Steve takes it as confirmation. Walking away, you yank onto El’s hand, causing her to help as you lift her surprisingly easily to give her a hug. “Hi, El.” You greet her, and it feels like old times when she holds onto you tightly like you to her.

“Hi.” She smiles, and you look at her hair, brushed somewhat and looking more like Joyce’s.

“Good flight?” You ask as she crosses her arms self consciously. Mike reaches out behind her to soothe her, and sometimes you forget how well Mike knows her.

“Ears hurt.” She shrugs, and it’s the only thing she has to comment on. “You went on a date?”

“Yeah, with my boyfriend.” You confirm, and while you and El weren’t close like her and Max, it’s still weird to you that she knows next to nothing about Eddie. Probably because El was almost a gateway conversation into the upside down for you. You couldn’t not associate the two.

“Babe.” Interrupts the two of you, tugging her back. You shoot a warning glance, telling Mike she doesn’t get to hog her. Mike rolls his eyes. “You know Eddie, the guy I was telling you about? The one who leads Hellfire and is like, a total badass?” The look on El’s face tells you she recognizes the name, and the falsehood of Eddie’s reputation to even his freshmen might be the death of you. “Yeah, that’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh.” El comments, and with the doe-eyed facial expression she gives you it’s all she needs to tell you.

“He’s much sweeter than his reputation.” You mutter to her, and Mike tugs her back to his lap.

“I refuse to believe that.” Mike comments, and the conversation is over. “Is Eddie coming over?” Mike asks you, watching the tv just next to you.

“I didn’t realize it was a big get together, honestly.” You admit, wondering if it would be odd for him to join.

“Well call him up and bring him over! We need some of that competitive spirit for our games, woman!” Dustin yells from across the room, haphazardly throwing you the phone.

“Are we playing games for the day? When did anybody communicate this to me?” You ask, dialling Ed’s number.

“If you were here last night, you would know.” Steve comments, a tone saying he had you.

“I didn’t set the date for my reservation, Steve. You picked the closest available date and just plopped it into our hands. Literally.” It was a folded piece of paper he tossed at you at work one night after you asked for the date.

“Just get him over here.”

-

Turns out, El loves Eddie. He’s loud, obnoxious, and charismatic. El hasn’t had much experience with someone so loud yet so welcoming to her. He gave her a seat at the table when he had offered to host DnD only if everyone played. (To your surprise and to Eddie’s everyone did.)

Sometime during the night when one of the newer players are being explained a concept thoroughly by Dustin, Eddie looks to you, same dopey look he wore last night. You sat right next to him, looking around the corner of his books. “Love you.” He mutters, proud of being able to say it to you and you saying it back to him.

“Love you.” You mutter back, leaning in for a sappy kiss.

“Love?” Nancy asks, leaning in and making sure she heard right.

“Last night.” You whisper, winking at her widened eyes.

The game finishes off with Eddie’s final boss being ripped to shreds by some of the newcomers, and you can tell it’s on purpose. He had once confessed Eddie gives easier creatures to newer players, it gives them incentives to continue to play. DnD is a hard game to get into, it’s easier when you have the confidence.

Max is sitting in the corner when all is done, some by the N64, others sitting in a circle talking on the floor. She has her Walkman on her hip as she normally does, and you can hear the vague notes to the music she was playing. You raise your eyebrow to her, the international symbol for “Are you good?”

She nods, hugging her legs. Max comes to sit down next to her, unsure how to help, yet comforting all the while.

“Hey baby.” Eddie mutters when all the DnD is tidied up.

“Hi. I think they’re all planning to stay over for a while.” You comment, and it doesn’t look like anyone was planning on leaving anytime soon.

“That’s alright. An extra night with this crowd is always a plus.” He answers, enwrapping you in his arms.

“Hey El. Any reason why Johnathan and Will stayed?” You ask, knowing Nancy probably missed her boyfriend.

El looked over, munching on the chips in Mike’s bowl. “Wanted to spend Christmas with Joyce.” She said, looking to Mike for reassurance, for which he obliges.

There was a follow up question you had wanted to ask, but Eddie would have questions. Was it weird being in town? Why would it be weird?

Since El received more time off for her Christmas vacation, she’d be in town for two weeks. The only downside to that is she starts school earlier in the summer than you do. You still had to go to school for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday until your Christmas break started. While Mike was at school, she would spend the days with Karen or just generally in town. It didn’t seem like it was planned well, but any questions were met with defensiveness.

“She’s cool.” Eddie comments, you still wrapped in his arms. “Why she with him?”

“He’s good to her when others weren’t. I’ll just say that.” You comment, and Eddie veers at you questioningly. “It’s not my story to tell.”

The rest of the day was a movie marathon, the whole crown collectively booing Steve’s choices, Robin proudly leading the banter. To rub in the salt, you offer the same movie Steve offered and the entire group agrees to it, saying it was a satisfying movie with a great ending. Steve grows flustered, going in the corner with his hands on his hips. As you place the tape into the VCR, Eddie goes to where Steve is sulking, partially joking but mostly sincerely comforting him.

“It’s okay, not everyone understands your clearly superior tastes.” Eddie comforts him, sitting Steve so he’s joined the rest of the crowd.

You expected Eddie to sit down next to you again but he sits down beside Steve, petting his hair comfortingly. “I swear if you hadn’t snatched him up, Steve might have.” Robin says, coming to sit next to you.

“Well that” you say, pointing to them now leaning on one another, “is your fault for the night. You say you hate when Eddie and him gain up on you at work then you basically guide them into one another’s arms. Are you trying, Buckley?”

“Are you?” Robin asks, and you have no rebuttal.

-

Christmas rolled around, and you spent more time with your boyfriend and your collective family than you would’ve liked to admit. He was a good sport as your mom asked him to do favours consistently through the nights spent in your home living room. Eddie and Wayne came over for the 23rd and 24th, you doing a gift exchange at the Wheelers on the 25th and spending that night over at the Munsons, a courtesy your mom had given you despite your dad’s protests.

Your gift to Eddie was special made dice with the same pattern as his most priced possession; his guitar. You weren’t even sure the advertisement had gotten your request for special made dice at one of the nerd shops you visited the town over, until you gotten a phone call. The look on his face when the dice were opened was priceless, whispering “no fucking way” as he examines the dice more closely. You had also gifted some high quality paints for his figurines and a new set up for him to be able to place his papers and maps in front of him.

I could tell you what Ed had gifted you, but that would take the fun out of it now wouldn’t it. Take the perfect give and multiply it by five. That’s what he gave you.

You had a second gift for him, only available the night you spent over at his house. As you undressed yourself, unwrapping yourself to reveal the red lacey lingerie bra and the crotchless panties upholstered to some red sheer stockings, he only took a moment to appreciate his view before ravishing you until it was no longer Christmas.

-

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[sutherkins]

request / “Soo here's a request for our cutest boy Peter - how about working with Peter as a night agent for years, knowing him better than yourself and being best friends since, together at a mission where reader gets hurt and Peter totally freaking out and panicking leading him to confess his love for reader? Of course it's mutual but neither of them dared to say something until this moment because both thought the other one's not feeling the same way.”

warnings: blood, reader gets shot, bad writing

this kinda sucks, and i apologize for the wait! i wanted it to be longer but i got sick after i started writing it and i literally just finished it today. im also still getting used to writing in general bc i normally dont have any inspo or energy to do it

being part of a top secret organization within the government was certainly not on your list of things you’d wanted to accomplish when you graduated school. having a career at all was something you weren’t sure was in the cards for you, much less being a spy and being on a first name basis with the president. nothing about the job was easy — as you’d expected. living so cut off from the rest of the world was more difficult than you could have imagined.

now, several years later, you realized that the job was much more enjoyable when you had a partner. especially when that partner was peter sutherland. peter was hired about a year after you and assigned as your partner. both of you were still newbies to the other night agents and figuring out how to do the job with someone like him by your side made the loneliness you felt that first year completely vanish. it felt nice to have a best friend throughout all of this. you realized that was the key to this job – besides the training, having someone to lean on was the best way to succeed at being a night agent.

peter was the best partner you could have asked for. he was attentive and always took care of you, even when you didn’t think you needed it. now, you most definitely fucking needed it.

your most recent assignment was challenging to say the least. the both of you were constantly on the move and sleeping in run down motels. and now, much to your displeasure, you just got shot.

laying on the floor next to the bed you shared, blood began to pool around you. you tried to fight your blurred vision and the overwhelming desire to close your eyes but that was a losing battle from the moment the bullet pierced your stomach. you were getting ready to give up — but just then, the door opened and peters voice rang through the air.

“sweetheart?”

you would’ve blushed at the pet name if you weren’t bleeding out on the floor. trying your best to speak, you’re voice hoarse and thick with pain. “peter..”

as soon as he spotted you, peter shouted your name and immediately went into protection mode. rushing to your side and putting pressure on the obvious wound, his other hand cupped your cheek. “jesus christ. sweetheart? can you hear me?”

“yeah, i can hear you. ‘s not as bad as it looks.” even when you were bleeding onto the carpet you still tried to comfort him.

“not that bad?! you got shot in the stomach! if i didn’t come when i did you could’ve bled out on the floor and died!” tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

you whined, the pressure from his hand on your wound producing a stabbing sensation that you’ve never felt from a gunshot before. “please don’t cry, pete. ‘s really not that bad, i promise. just — just call an ambulence, okay?”

pulling his phone from his pocket, your best friend quickly calls for an ambulance and lets your bosses know what happened. his attention is back on you, his hands covered in your blood. “don’t tell me not to cry. you’re my best friend and i love you. honestly, i’m…i’m in love with you, okay? you’re hurt and i love you and when i saw you lying on the ground i thought i lost you forever. i thought i lost you before i even got the chance to tell you how i felt. i can’t lose you.”

a stray tear fell from your eye, your hand reaching up to caress his cheek. “peter sutherland, i love you. i’ve never loved anyone more, to be honest. you’re not gonna lose me, okay? i was serious when i said it’s not as bad as it looks. i’m gonna be fine. ‘sides, once i’m patched up we can spend my newfound vacation time at your cabin.”

peter lets out a small chuckle, grabbing the hand holding his face and kissing your palm. “you got yourself a deal.”

[walli3darl1ng]

Hello there darling

Can I request for a welcome home ppl react to a 9 tales kitsune reader

Like she/he has lived in the woods for a long time and was curious what the neighborhood was like and the people that were in it

And the fact that there tales were soft and he/she was beautiful and helped wally finally get a good rest sleep with his/her tales

if u don't mind

(I dont mind at all, Darling! I apologize for getting to this late TT but I really love this! Hope I live up to your expectations! Before we continue…as much as I personally dislike this I really want to post something for you guys ;))

The Kitsune Fox; a fox spirit that can turn into a human to trick and fool those who are easily fooled. Although even the most cautious can’t resist the temptation the spirits posses. In some folklore these spirits are wise and humble spirits that help the living, others say they are evil and only wish to hurt those that are weak.

They are rumored to see and hear all that goes on in the world and if deemed worthy—they can interact and help.

“Sally, I know you like this kind of thing but is it really necessary to say all the scary and nasty stuff on our sleepovers?” A slightly shaken and worried Julie interrupts Sally’s dramatic explanation of the fantasy tale making the star puppet stop and turn to her.

“Oh, sorry! I just really love those stories,” she gives a brief pause and glances around at the rest that were asleep. The only ones still awake was her Julie and Wally. “Besides everyone else is asleep.” She whispers back.

“Yeah, but now Julie won’t be able to sleep, you know how she gets.” Wally tiredly replies, patting Juliet’s shoulder softly. The scared blonde hugging her stuffed doll close to her chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Julie.” Sally frowns then opens her sleeping bag to her friend. “We can cuddle until you fall asleep, how’s that sound?”

“Okay!” Julie nods and smiles as she crawls over and hugs her best friend. “We can go see the small shrine tomorrow? The one you were talking about earlier.”

Sally hums and nods, already half asleep due to the warms Julie was providing. She was telling them that she found a small shrine not that far and wanted them to go with her to check it out.

Speaking of which here you are, draped over the roof of the shrine, your fox ears tall and alert and tails swinging about as she let out a boring sigh. “How boring…I guess a couple 100 years will do that, huh?” This is a common thing for you. Talking to yourself I mean. You have been alone for over a few centuries.

Your ears flicker when you hear slow and relax heartbeats, the neighborhood must be asleep now. You’ve noticed the neighborhood not that long ago but was always a bit hesitant to go down there and say hi. What if they think you’re evil and cast you away?!

Anyways, you’ve been keeping an eye on them for the time being. Just watching over them.

“What..?” You sit up when you pick up on a faster heartbeat, was someone having a nightmare?

“I need to investigate..what if someone’s in danger?” With a new found determination you gracefully float down and toward the neighborhood.

As colorful and unique the neighborhood is you can explore just yet. Your ears snap to the sound of the beat of the racing heart to a house. You peek inside a window to see a blue haired puppet rubbing his eyes as he takes a few deep breaths.

You tilt you head as you can still hear his heartbeat beating a bit too fast so you swiftly float in through the cracked open window which gets his attention.

“Who’s there?”

“I’m sorry…you had a nightmare?” Way to start a conversation, I suppose. Then again it’s been so long since you had a conversation with someone else and have gotten a response.

Wally however wasn’t worried at the fact that you, a complete stranger has entered Julie’s home but the fact that you were the exact tale sally was gushing out early that night. You are so beautiful, majestic and grateful even in your tone. Your ears are tall and huge, your tails! Gosh they look soft and the fact you got nine of them! Blow his mind, alright.

“Um…hello?” You asked, waving your hand in front of him making his jump a bit.

“Oh! Sorry, you’re just…you’re so pretty that’s all.” Wally shrugs it off and smiles.

You blink at this, he think you’re pretty? Seriously? What does that mean exactly? “..thank you?”

“..so you’re here because you thought I had a nightmare?”

“Your heartbeat was fast, that’s not normal.” You said as you pointed to his chest. “Then again, it’s been a few days now that I hear that from you, you’re the one that live in the red house, right? The one that’s alive.”

“Home you mean? Yea that’s me, Wally.” He smiles, his heart beat is calming down. That’s good.

“Wally…I’m (Y/n), I live on the shrine that’s up the hill.”

“Sally was telling us about it earlier! That’s where you live, that’s fantastic, you can meet the others.” Wally was now so excited to share his new found friend with the rest.

You tilt you head and hums seeing that Wally was still tired, he’s fighting his sleep but still talking to you. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Sleeping? No, no I can’t sleep now.” Was it the nightmare? You mind is racing with solutions but to no avail. Oh wait!

You perk up at your idea and float towards him, shifting a bit bigger as you circle your body around him and using one of your tails to gently push hums against you and wrap the remaining tails on him like a blanket.

“What are you doing, friend?”

“Helping you sleep.” Was all you mumble before gently humming a soft lullaby you wound for centuries and slowly but surely the blue haired puppet closes his eyes and lets calming sleep take over him, the most calming sleep he’s has these past few days.

The morning sun comes up and shines onto the neighborhood, everything was peaceful and—

“AHHH! there’s a fox in the living room!!”

~~~

The end :) I wrote all this in a Ross parking lot 🧍🏻now I know I’ve abandoned you guys—IM SORRY! But it’s been a hard couple of months and I’m trying to get into my happy hobby again which is writing and talking to you guys 💜

[daisyishedwig]

@cryscendo wanted to hear more about my Hevans AU so here are a couple of my favorite bullet points on my extensive outline.

Below a cut because I got too excited and it's long

Rocky Horror happens but like… what if Sam plays Frank and Kurt plays Rocky? Like they try to shoehorn kurt into frank and instead he says he might want to play rocky. 

Sam asks about playing frank n furter after Mike’s parents pull him from the show. It’s after he’s read through the script and now understand what the show is about and it’s definitely not because frank gets to fool around with rocky.

Sam is the one who sees Karofsky cornering kurt by his locker. No talking to shue or sue because they’re useless

Sam overhears finn refusing to help Kurt and goes off on him for it. 

Kurt being the one to fawn over Sam when he gets hurt in the fight with karofsky

Sam maybe offers to help Kurt teach finn and burt how to dance

That’s the first time Sam hears about karofsky threatening to kill kurt

Kurt and sam dance down the isle together, putting quinn and mercedes together

Same happens during just the way you are, kurt hands burt off to carole and he looks for mercedes but Sam appears to take over

Sam and Kurt get the duet for Sectionals 

"Kurt, I want you to look me in the eye, okay? And answer this question. If we lived in a world where noone cared about you being gay or me being bi and there was no reason to see us as anything other than two people who happen to be singing a love song… would you still be uncomfortable singing this song with me? Because I genuinely do not care what anyone thinks about it, I don't care if they think I'm gay, if they make fun of me, or any of that. But if you feel uncomfortable singing a love song with me for a reason other than protecting me, then I will drop it and we can sing something else. But I would love to sing this song with you."

Kurt being very uncomfortable during the sex ed lessons from miss holiday

Sam actively asking her for resources of queer sex

Kurt panicking and thinking Sam is asking for right now and not just because he wants to be prepared for the future so he can make kurt’s first time special if they get there

“I’m not ready for that”

“Oh, babe, I know. And that’s okay. I dont’ expect you to be ready today or tomorrow or even anytime soon. I just want to make sure I know what I’m doing, so that when or if we ever do have sex… I can make it special or you”

Okay, so why would the santana and karofsky thing happen in this? Would it just be because she wants to pull the jock vote? Is it just for the beard thing? How does she not turn the entire glee club against her? Did she still make him apologize to Kurt and the rest of the Glee club? How does Sam react to Santana dating Karofksy?

Oh, fuck it, none of that matters. Karofksy will just run with someone else, it’s just simpler that way.

Rachel could still ask Sam to go to prom with her “because obviously you can’t go with Kurt since you’re not out” You know, because she’s awful.

[multiplicity-positivity]

(advice ask, i think? or just, validation? i just want to talk about it)

this may make literally zero sense so im gonna. preface this with an apology for that potential

so like two weeks ago i (i am the host) had a breakdown REALLY bad and it like put up a barrier or something, which we've had happen before but not for this long- everyone's been completely locked off from front, i've barely seen ANYONE else insys and i cannot get out of front no matter how hard i try

it feels like frontstuck but in a different font, this doesnt feel like normal frontstuck

i almost feel like the system is gone, or disappearing, or even wasn't there in the first place

i just dont know what to do, about that? i dont really know what im asking for here if im being honest, but if you have any thoughts or advice they'd be greatly appreciated

(thank you in advance for either your reply or just for reading this, whichever it may be /g)

Hi! We’re sorry to hear things have been kind of difficult for you/your system lately. We’re not quite sure what kind of advice we can offer you, but we can try!

It sounds like you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. For many systems (including our own!) lots of stress can disrupt system communication and make it harder to connect and interact with other members. For us, it takes time, grounding, and calming strategies in order to reach a point where things have settled down enough for us to interact with each other again.

So we’ll offer some things you can do that might help! Remember every system’s different, so what works for us may not work for you/y’all:

1 - if you’re spending a lot of time worrying about your system or questioning your plurality, stop. Take a step back. Try to focus on things that make you happy and try not to think about the rest of your headmates for a few days. It might initially feel like you’re abandoning your system by doing this… but that’s not actually the case! Prioritizing your own mental health and well-being is very important, and taking a step back from worrying about your system might be able to help you AND your headmates overall.

2 - learn some grounding techniques, and practice doing them even when you’re not overwhelmed. Making a habit of grounding yourself can make it easier for you to ground yourself when you’re feeling stressed! What works best for our system is REST - we wrote a post detailing this technique before!

Things that also help us are:

5-4-3-2-1: in the world around you, notice 5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, 3 things you can hear, 2 (or just one) thing you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste. This helps center us in the real world and pull us away from overwhelming/snowballing emotions!

Something sharp: Eating a sour candy, holding a piece of ice, or finding some other sort of sharp/vibrant, non-harmful experience can work to “shock” us out of our spiral and help ground us in reality. We usually follow up a sharp experience with 5-4-3-2-1 to help solidify our awareness of the present moment!

Breathe: Noticing your breathing and counting breaths can really be helpful for calming down. We take deep breaths in through our nose for 4 seconds, then put with our mouth for 8. We repeat this for a few minutes until we feel a bit better. It can help clear our mind and stops us from unknowingly hyperventilating or taking lots of ragged/shallow breaths, which we’re prone to doing when we’re overwhelmed!

3 - meet your own needs. It may help bolster communication and help make it easier to contact your headmates if you are making sure to take proper care of yourself. We just wrote a little Check Up self care post which might help you in this regard - here it is!

4 - once you’ve managed to get yourself in a better place mentally, after taking a break from focusing on your system and instead focusing on meeting your own needs, maybe at that point try reestablishing contact with your headmates. Maybe you can try writing them letters, letting them know that you care about them and you’ve been thinking about them and filling them in with what’s been going on in your world. We have some parts who do this when they’re feeling disconnected from other members! You can also check out our post on establishing contact with headmates, which may have some useful tools to try out.

We’re sorry this got so long, but we hope that something here will be useful for you! We’re wishing you the very best with trying to reconnect with your system - going through something like this can definitely be scary, but we promise you’re not alone! Lots of systems encounter this sort of thing from time to time. Good luck with everything - we really do hope things get better for you soon!

🌷 Corrie and 💫 Parker