#and it wouldn’t affect the main movie at all

[sapphiresaphics]

I am trying to understand in good faith why there’s this backlash against Arcane season 2, because I genuinely don’t understand it. So thank you in advance for taking the time to respond to me.

I guess my question is… how did you think the show was going to end? Because if you’re coming at it from the perspective of “the class divide is the driving force of the show” then what’s the endgame look like to you? How would this show have ended satisfactorily for you?

Because so far the only way I could see that being satisfactorily at all is if the class divide was destroyed. And frankly I don’t think Arcane even back in season 1 was ever going to do that. Arcane isn’t here to “fix classism” for us.

I’m also not sure I would call classism as set dressing to be tactless either. I mean… classism itself as a concept in the real world still exists. If I were to set a movie and focus heavily on how classism affects my characters, that wouldn’t be seen as tactless if I don’t end up solving classism by the end of the film, right? Like a film set during WWII isn’t tactless if it is only focusing on the soldiers in the trenches and not on horrors of the concentration camps, right? You can have concepts like classism be the backdrop for your characters stories, and the more interesting aspect is how your characters confront and deal with that classism, isn’t it?

I guess thats’s my main issue with this seemingly pervasive idea that season 2 abandoned the “central themes” of season 1 because I don’t agree that season 1’s central theme is actually about classism. I think the central theme of the series in general is the one that they repeatedly call back to over and over again: “the cycle of violence.”

Because if you’re right, and classism IS the central theme of the show… what’s the ending of season 1 mean to you? Season 1 ends with the Piltover oppressors agreeing to stop oppressing the undercity… but Jinx blows it all up. What’s Jinx blowing up the only opportunity they’ve had to fix the problems between the two cities say about classism? I gotta be honest, I can’t really see much value or a point in ending a show about classism by making the classism worse.

But when you look at that ending through the lens of the cycle of violence… it becomes a lot more apparent. Because the violence the undercity and Jinx in particular has suffered through because of Piltover is the reason why she blows up the Piltover counselors. And the fact that they were just on the verge of reaching peace, having that all be undone by Jinx’s terrorist attack is inherently tragic and sad. They were about to have peace, but the cycle of violence interrupted it and this whole dance begins all over again.

I hope you’re not mad or angry or anything, I’m just trying to understand where this idea of classism is the central theme came from because I don’t see it that way and I never saw it that way. Classism has always only ever been the backdrop for the main story to unfold against to me.

Do not create a literal upper caste lower caste class divide in your show if you are incapable of presenting the nuances of such a divide it makes you look lazy

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Dead Poets Society is a fantastic movie however I cannot get over the entire thing with Knox and Chris what the fuck happened there

[babyleostuff]

jealousy, jealousy | choi seungcheol

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!cheol x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.1k

. . . seungcheol getting jealous of a fictional character

“cheol, it’s just a fictional character,” you sighed, trying to explain for the tenth time since you got out of the movie theatre that, yes - the main lead was hot, but no - you wouldn’t ever leave seungcheol for him.

sometimes you wondered if he was turning thirty or ten next year. 

you didn’t mean to be all heart eyes at the movies, but it wasn’t your fault the main lead was good looking, not that it even mattered - seungcheol had his celebrity crushes too, but you didn’t go around and whine about it. “you know it doesn’t mean anything, baby,” reaching over, you ran your fingers through his hair, like you always did whenever he was stressed or anxious, turning him into a puddle in your arms in a second.

“mhm,” your boyfriend mumbled, and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, not sparing you a single glance. you sighed and dropped your hand. 

any other time you’d find this situation quite amusing - cheol jealous of a fictional character you happened to gush over, if not for the fact that you knew exactly how this would end.

with a silent treatment and an extremely pouty boyfriend.

normally you found that side of him very endearing, but dealing with a jealous coups was not an easy task, partially because your boyfriend happened to be one of the most stubborn people in the world.

now it was him and his pout against the world.  

“you know i love you,” you said, and turned your body away from him towards the window. 

if he was going to act like a child, then so be it.

“i’m a fucking idiot” seungcheol grumbled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head with a bit too much force, hitting himself in the head in the process. “fuck.” 

he couldn’t get the image of your soft gaze and gentle voice out of his head, when you tried to cheer him up in the car after he acted like a complete asshole. he was the last person that deserved your sweet affection, and he was so mad at himself for acting like a fucking toddler instead of pulling the car over and throwing himself into your arms to beg for forgiveness. 

“are you okay?” suddenly your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. you peeked through the door, and rubbed your eyes, already wearing his t-shirt that you always wore to sleep. the genuine concern in your eyes, and your adorably sleepy expression made seungcheol want to bang his head against the wall. 

how could he be so stupid, and get jealous and angry at you for finding a fictional character attractive? 

"uh, i'm fine, i just hit my head," he said quietly, not really looking at you. usually you’d immediately coo at him, and kiss the spot where he hit himself - of course you knew how much seungcheol loved your attention when he injured himself, even if it was just a scratch, but now he could only watch as you nodded and left without a word. 

he sighed, picking up his toothbrush to finish up his bedtime routine. there was no way he’d sleep in your bed tonight, seungcheol wouldn’t be able to lay next to you knowing how much he hurt you.

besides, there was so way you’d allow him to cuddle you after how he acted, and that was something he would not be able to stand. 

looking at his reflection in the mirror for the last time, seungcheol turned all of the lights in the bathroom, and padded over to your shared bedroom to take his pillow, and a blanket from the closet. 

he’d take the couch, it’d be less painful than sleeping in the same bed without being able to hug you. 

“what are you doing?” you suddenly asked, your voice laced with sleep. you pushed yourself up to take a better look at your boyfriend, who was standing at his side of the bed with what looked like his pillow and a blanket, his expression reminiscing one of a kicked puppy. “you have to be kidding me, choi seungcheol.” 

you looked so disappointed, and… annoyed? that was his last straw, and fuck every part of his dignity he had left - he’d beg on his knees for you forgiveness if that’s what it took. 

“ ‘m sorry, okay?” he said, his voice breaking. you could bet that if you turned the lights you’d see your boyfriend all teary eyed, not that it would surprise you - seungcheol was usually quite emotional when it came to you and your fights.

“i know there was no reason for me to get jealous and act like the biggest asshole about it, you didn’t deserve any of it,” he gripped the pillow tighter as if it would help. “and then i got so embarrassed of myself, i didn’t have the guts to tell you how sorry i was. please forgive me baby, i’m so sorry.” 

“oh, cheol,” you sighed and opened your arms. without a second thought, the boy threw the pillow aside and ran into your embrace, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he was afraid that you were about to run away.

“i'm not mad at you,” you pressed your cheek against the side of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “okay, maybe i was at first, but that's only because you seriously act like a child sometimes.” seungcheol groaned, as if he didn’t know that already. 

you sat like that for a moment - your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, with his head buried in your neck where he placed gentle kisses, just like the fight never happened. 

"did you seriously want to go to sleep on the couch?" you asked, kissing his forehead.

cheol leaned back, revealing the pouty lips, and his big doe eyes you knew so well. you could swear some day he’d be the death of you. "yeah, i wanted to. that was the plan," he admitted shyly, his thumbs running over your exposed hip.  

"you're so dramatic, cheollie," you sighed and shook your head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "why didn't you want to sleep with me, though?" 

your boyfriend groaned again, hiding in your neck like it was his safe space, pushing you back onto the bed with the force that he tackled you in. "i wouldn't be able to cuddle you," he murmured after a short while, like he was scared to admit it.  

"again, i didn't hear you." the truth was you heard him perfectly fine, but what was better than making your usually confident boyfriend shy and blushy. 

"i wouldn’t be able to cuddle you!" he huffed, looking at you again. "happy?" 

"very much, darling," you smiled at him. “now stop being a drama queen, and come to bed.” 

seungcheol nodded like a child that was just promised an ice cream, and scrambled out of your embrace, quickly grabbing his pillow from the ground. you smiled to yourself, watching your big teddy bear of a boyfriend crawl back into bed. 

“no more fighting, okay?” you murmured, your cheek pressed against his chest. “we just wasted a perfectly fine afternoon on your whining, you big baby.” 

seungcheol knew you didn’t mean to make him feel bad about what happened, he was sure you were probably used to his antics by now, but it didn’t change the fact that if it was up to him he’d spend the night worshipping you in every way he could just to show you how much he loved you. 

“i’m really sorry.” 

“it’s okay baby. let’s just sleep, yeah?” you said, and snuck your hand under his t-shirt, dragging you nails over his tummy. “and you know i’m yours, right? and that won’t change. ever.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity

[tonyboneysblog]

curiosity kills the cat: one shot!

parings: Touya x reader

word count: 1.3k

notes: this was originally gonna be a part in a fanfic I was cooking but i genuinely could not figure out how to write childhood friends with Dabi’s crisped ass.

warnings: none!

summary: Touya always sees kissing in movies, all dramatic and lovey dovey, is it really his fault that he wants to try it on you? just to see how it feels of course!

“this movie fucking sucks.”

“language Touya.”

currently, you were at the treacherous Todoroki household.

Why? You may be asking.

Because you wanted to watch a movie, 27 dresses specifically.

Unfortunately for Touya Todoroki, he’s your only friend to watch the movie with.

now the two of you have been friends since pre-school, kids bullied you- Touya saved you.

you stuck around him after that, much to his dismay.

“Why would you make me watch this garbage.” Touya says harshly.

You huff loudly, “to see if your cold, dark heart had anything in it.”

Touya giggles at your little comment, you liked his laugh.

you wanted to watch this movie for a week, practically begged Touya on your knees for him to even watch it with you.

Touya doesn’t enjoy cheesy rom-coms.

He’s made that quite clear throughout this whole movie.

when the two main characters tried on the dresses he complained.

when they went to the bar together, he complained.

when the characters sang at the bar, he complained then too.

yet when they kissed, Touya didn’t even open his mouth.

“yuck- want me to skip?” You say for Touya’s sake.

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking, “nah, it’s just a kiss.”

“What- you’re suddenly cool with lovey dovey stuff now?” your face is set perplexed.

Touya shrugs, “I see it in TV all the time, why should I care?”

You hum softly, “adults kiss too much.”

Touya hums in agreement, his foot starting to steadily tap.

the movie continues, you catch Touya scoff at one of the movies jokes, he seems to be…actually interested.

but that damn tapping won’t stop.

Doesn’t his leg get tired when he does that?

Finally, at the end of the movie the two main lead get married, and the main actress has her 27 bridesmaids.

cute movie.

“Did you like it Touy?” you ask with excitement bubbling inside your chest.

He responds bluntly, “No- terrible movie.”

“Liar- that was the most I’ve ever seen you pay attention to something!” You point an accusing finger towards him.

Touya swatted your finger away, “I was waiting for the guy to murder the girl.”

“What?!” You retract your finger quickly.

Touya shakes his head as if it were obvious, “He had serial killer vibes..”

You sit there on the couch utterly silent from the words that just came out of Touya’s mouth.

His brows furrow slightly, “What?”

“Nothing, weirdo..”

Touya melts into the couch, picking up the remote and scrolling through the streaming apps choices.

“Any thing else you’d like to watch?”

“Being a gentleman I see?” You hum.

Touya chuckles softly, never responding.

The room is on a comfortable silence for the moment, aside from Touya tapping his foot against the glass table his feet are propped on.

Touya’s foot staggers, “Why do you think adults kiss?”

“Because they like it.” You answer quickly.

Touya shakes his head softly, “yeah but why, why do they like it?”

“Why would I know the answer to that.”

Touya glares at your for a moment, “oh please- your parents basically make out all the time when I’m over.”

“So that means I should know why they like it?” You pick at the fur blanket that was thrown over you prior to starting the movie.

Touya hums a small, “yep” before his foot starts to tap again.

“Didn’t think you were so affected by the kissing scene…” you say under your breath, Touya heard anyway.

“I-I wasn’t affected, I’m just curious on what’s so good about it.” He says quickly, the tapping increasing.

You seriously doubt Touya’s even looking at the tittles on the screen by how fast he’s tapping the remote button.

“Well I wouldn’t know…”

Touya stays quiet for a moment, thinking.

probably about something stupid.

“We could know.”

yep, something stupid.

“What you implying Touya?” You elbow his ribs, making him yelp.

“Ow- I’m saying that…nevermind.” Touya rubs his ribs softly, dropping the remote next to you.

“I mean…you’re just curious right?”

Touya looks up at you, the tapping gets faster.

“Yeah- Why…?”

You pick up the remote, looking it over to act like your doing anything else other that what your about to do.

“We could- do it..” you say quiet and soft.

Touya doesn’t respond, the tapping stopped at least.

suddenly, Touya grabs the remote from your hand- setting it aside.

“We could.”

Great, now you’re forced to look at your best friend.

“Yeah?” You say barely loud enough for Touya to pick up.

Touya nods, his foot starting to steadily tap again.

You cup Touya’s face with your hands- oh gosh are you really doing this?

Touya places his hands on your lap, truthfully he has no clue where to put them.

the taps get faster.

You and Touya look at each-other for a moment, just to make sure you don’t absolutely ruin your friendship.

More like a “you really wanna do this?” stare.

but hey, you were curious.

so was Touya.

1 + 1 = 2.

Two kissing more specifically.

“Jus’ do it already..” Touya says quietly, his face growing red.

You press your lips to Touya’s, it was..nice? soft? kinda gross.

Touya’s lips were quite soft actually, he’d wear chap stick like he’d wear clothes though- he hated dry lips.

Touya’s hand steadily went to your cheeks as well, only difference was his were a lot warmer.

At some point, Touya’s tapping stopped.

you a Touya didn’t though, it’s normal for friends to experience things together- how is a kiss any different?

Your cheeks felt so warm.

wait no- that’s Touya’s quirk.

You starting patting Touya’s thigh as a signal to chill out.

And he got the memo, only after a minute.

You and Touya were only slightly out of breath- you might have 1st degree burns on your cheeks though.

“M’sorry…?” Touya says with his dumb cracky voice.

“you burned my cheeks.” You say curtly.

Touya groans, “I didn’t know I activated my quirk!”

“I’m never kissing you again.” Your tone gets slightly aggressive.

Touy burned your precious face though- so he deserves it.

“I said I didn’t-“

A sudden laughter breaks through Touya’s speak, one that didn’t belong to him.

You whip your head to the door way only to see Touya’s siblings, Natsuo and Fuyumi.

Natsuo is holding onto his stomach, dying with laughter while Fuyumi looks mildly disappointed- more like embarrassed.

“Touya-nii…” Fuyumi says softly.

Touya’s face goes completely red, even reaching his ears.

“You didn’t see a thing.” Touya says sternly.

Natsuo laughs more as he grabs Fuyumi, “dude we saw everything!”

Fuyumi covers her face and Natsuo starts to re-create the scene.

“Oh-la-la! Y/N please kiss me I’m so desperate!” Natsuo says through his giggles.

You can see steam coming from Touya as he jumps over the couch to get to Natsuo.

Natsuo sees this and starts to book it.

So now you have a wild Touya and a trouble making Natsuo in the house.

Fuyumi looks at you, then runs to her room- poor girl doesn’t even wanna face you.

how are family dinners your invited to supposed to go now?

curiosity kills the cat you suppose.

and you are the cat in this situation.

EP:

“Mrs. Rei, this is absolutely delicious!” You say while crunching down on whatever Touya’s mother made for the night.

Touya hums in agreement, basically halfway through his second plate.

Natsuo chuckles before speaking, “maybe you should ask her for some cooking lessons Y/N- mom’s experienced.”

Rei smiles softly, “thank you, Natsuo.”

Natsuo immediately gains the most devious smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Maybe some kissing lessons as well, since you and Touya like that too.”

Immediately silence hits the table.

Touya immediately slams his blow onto the table.

Natsuo runs for his life down the hallway as Touya almost jumps over the table to catch him.

As soon as the boys leave the room your met with a stone faced Rei.

you clear your throat.

“Fuyumi can vouch for me, me and Touya would never do something so sinful!”

Rei chuckles softly, “Fuyumi told me when I came home…”

You whip your head to Fuyumi as she takes her leave, doesn’t wanna face your wrath.

you look towards rei again, sweating bullets as you hear Natsuo screaming bloody murder from two rooms over.

“w-we we’re just curious!”

AN: yall need smth after whatever the hell that episode was😭

[americanwh0rerstory]

Party at the x mansion [peter maximoff]

SUMMARY: whilst the other x-men were on a mission, some of the students at the school had some other ideas…

drunk!peter x f!reader.

CONTENT WARNING: alcohol, brief mentions of vomiting (not detailed), suggestive ending with discussions of sex

READER DISCRETION ADVISED. SUGGESTIVE ENDING WITH NO EXPLICIT NSFW

A/N: If you want a part 2 it would contain the nsfw scene. i need opinions on this

flashing lights bombarded his senses, the thumping bass of the party music blending with the faint sounds of puking invading his eardrums. he stumbled down the stairs with wavy vision and made his way back into the main party area after taking a quick detour to sort his looks out. after all, Y/N was here. the one girl who could break the speedster’s usual attitude. for the first time he couldn’t use his mutation to get around the party quickly, the alcohol clouded his vision so he’d most likely run into a wall.

with a red solo cup clutched in one hand, he poured himself another cup of WooWoo from the nearly empty pitcher. his hand trembled and his vision unfocused with how drunk he currently was. looking out into the sea of people, he couldn’t spot Y/N anywhere but the alcohol finally gave him the confidence to make the first move to - hopefully - going out with her. he didn’t wanna be like the stereotypical party jerk who only wanted women for sex, no, he wanted to shower her with affection, and love; the proper princess treatment.

eventually he spotted her on the other side of the party, drinking whatever her choice of poison was with a grin on her face. despite what seemed to be right he took the risk and dashed over to her, leaving a blur of silver hair behind him.

“hey, Y/N” he said with a lopsided grin, a faint blush already painting his cheeks with a rosy hue. his mind was racing faster than any speed he could run, trying to get over the fact he was talking to the only person to have ever made him fully short circuit.

“wanna go somewhere after this? i’ll run you to anywhere you like babygirl” he slurs slightly. he tried his hardest to seem composed but it was obvious by the way he was bouncing on his heels and fidgeting with his hands that he was nervous, a trait you had never seen in the speedster

the pet name also took you by surprise, but you dismissed it as a drunken mishap or one of his platonic affectionate terms that he’d use on anyone he could. you also didn’t know where to go. at this time everywhere would be shut, and he was in no condition to go on a date in a high end restaurant. even sober you couldn’t take him there, the klepto would end up stealing a fork thinking it was real silverware.

“the only place you need to go is to bed. you gotta sleep this off peter, maybe we can do something when you’re sober” you say politely and softly, politely turning him down but agreeing to go out another time. however judging by the pout that fell onto his lips, he wasn’t liking that answer.

��bed? i don’t wanna go to bed, not unless you’re with me” a sly grin crept onto his face as he said the last part of his sentence, but you knew peter well enough to know he wouldn’t try to take advantage of you. he’d never even dream of it. so you agreed to go back to his form

he put a hand behind your head and wrapped the other around your waist. “just a warning: whiplaaaash” he murmured into your ear before speeding you back to his room.

once you was in there, he gave you a quick and affectionate kiss on the cheek before grabbing a box of twinkies and offering you one, or maybe 10 with the amount of twinkies he had in his room.

a movie marathon, twinkies, cuddles, and marching pyjamas is how the night ended. it was serene despite peter’s inability to keep still. his knee was constantly bouncing, or he’d randomly zip over to an arcade machine just to move around a little. either way it was a nice evening. once he finally settled down, he lay with his head between your boobs just burying his face in between them whilst you cuddled him.

“mhhhhm” he mumbled from in between your chest. “this would be great post-sex, and during, and pre-sex” he slurs drunkenly, lifting his head slightly to look up at you through half-lidded eyes

a smirk came over his lips, lighting his whole face up with an expression that couldn’t be described as anything less than dirty.

“wanna test that theory out?”

A/N: oh my god i spent like a week on this. lost motivation so often. pls PLS tell me if this is good or not, cause i’m hating it

[moonstrider9904]

Soup

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Tags/warnings: Fluff. SFW, albeit with some mild suggestiveness here and there. Established relationship, some teasing. Mentions and descriptions of the common cold. So much Soft!Crosshair.

Word count: 1.4k

One shot masterlist | Main masterlist | Read on Ao3

You’d heard him shifting, tossing blankets, twisting, and turning throughout the night, and you giggled to yourself at the fact that he’d obviously tried not to wake you—and failed at it. You’d pretended to remain asleep so as to not worry him. You knew Crosshair was susceptible to feeling guilty over affecting you negatively in any way. Still, you knew something was up with him, and as you made pancakes for breakfast, you had already convinced yourself to act surprised when you saw an overly tired Crosshair emerging from your bedroom.

Nothing had prepared you, however, for the sight of Crosshair completely enveloped in a thick blanket with only his face peeking through the cloth, and you didn’t have to fake the shock that overwhelmed your sudden laughter. You looked away for a moment, diverting your gaze over to the pancakes as your laughter died down softly, but when you gazed at Crosshair again, you couldn’t help but erupt in laughter once more, now not only at the sight of him, but also at the fact that he was clearly annoyed.

“I don’t even know where to begin!” You kept giggling.

“How about, good freaking morning?” Crosshair crooned, his voice nasal and the sound of his m’s coming comically close to that of a B.

“Oh ho, sweetie,” you turned the stove off and you made your way over to him as he took a seat on the couch.

“Laugh it up,” Crosshair snarled, but his nasal voice and runny nose wouldn’t intimidate a mouse.

“Do you want padcakes?” You purposefully made your own voice nasal. “A good bordig is subbosed to have a good breakfast.”

His narrow eyes glared at you. “Ha ha.”

“Or would you prefer some chicke-d soup?” You grinned, still imitating his cold-infused way of talking.

In response, Crosshair laid across the entire sofa and faced the back of it, refusing to look at you. You chuckled at his grumpy-cat attitude and kneeled down beside the couch at the level of his head as he remained wrapped under the massive comforter.

“Okay, I’m done teasing,” you spoke normally, gently shaking his shoulder. “Will you look at me, please?”

“You’re really gonna make me move?” Crosshair crooned, immobile.

“I want to see your pretty face,” you smirked.

You heard Crosshair let out a big sigh, and he struggled under the comforter to shift his body, now facing you as he continued to lay on the couch. “I have half a mind to sneeze on you and bring you down with me.”

“I eat my fruits and veggies, you don’t scare me,” you raised a brow at him.

“Shut up and give me pancakes,” Crosshair moaned softly before he closed his eyes as though he’d fall asleep any minute.

“Don’t bite the hand that’s gonna nurse you back to health, sweetheart,” you leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.

Crosshair’s eyes opened for a moment at the contact of your lips on his skin, and the teasing went away from his eyes as he gazed up at you. Your lips retreated from his forehead, and you gazed upon him too—Crosshair didn’t fail to notice the glint of adoration in your eyes, sparkling as you looked down at him. Then, when you took your hand up to brush the backs of your fingers against his cheek, he inevitably leaned into your skin and his eyes closed again. You smiled softly at his reaction, and you took your hand up to his forehead before retrieving it and watching as his eyes opened expectantly, resenting the absence of your touch.

You chuckled. “Well, you don’t seem to have a fever.”

“Yipee,” Crosshair said monotonously.

“Oh, come on,” you said as you got up. “You have a tiny little cold, you’re gonna stay home all day on the couch in a cozy blanket watching movies, with your gorgeous girlfriend giving you pancakes and chicken soup all day.”

Crosshair chuckled. “You’re right, I can think of worse things.”

“And if you’re a good boy, I’ll rub some vaporub on your chest,” you winked.

Crosshair eyed you with a little gleam of mischief, smirking as seductively as he could manage in his current state. “Aye, here I am running with snot all over me, but you still want me, darlin’.”

You cackled. “Oh yeah, you’re irresistible, all wrapped up in a comforter.”

“You can put vaporub on me anywhere you want,” he kept smirking as he closed his eyes.

Laughter took over you again. “Gross.”

“You started it,” he hummed.

With a little giggle, you got up and made your way to the kitchen to finish what you’d started, putting in extra care to the pancakes and even sprinkled in a few chocolate chips, which Crosshair wouldn’t acknowledge out loud, but you knew he loved them. It was a perfectly slow day after that, with both of you spending almost the whole time in the living room together and cozying up to warm bowls of soup you improvised and nailed.

Each time you approached Crosshair for anything, you could see it in his eyes—the faint gleam and the fleeting softness that flashed through those brown irises, features glowing with a tender affection he didn’t need to put into words. He teased and he acted like an infuriated feline whenever he was sick, but close to nothing could measure the degree to which he appreciated and simply loved you. And each time you would feel him gazing upon you in such a way, you’d smile back at him, letting him know you felt the same way.

Crosshair insisted he’d spend the night on the couch—he didn’t want to increase your risks of catching his cold by sleeping next to you like he normally would, even if the idea of clinging to you in his sleep while you played with his gray locks seemed particularly appealing. You both went into the room to get his pillow and some blankets, and he spent a relatively peaceful night on the sofa while you lay dreamlessly on the bed, missing his warmth.

You’d spent the night shifting, tossing blankets, twisting, and turning, but at least you had no risk of waking Crosshair all the way to the sofa. That thought would comfort you during your sleepless hours, and after you finally managed to sleep and wake the next morning, your head ached, you felt your nose congested, and you wanted nothing more than to remain there the entire day. You sat up on the bed, groaning as you channeled all your inner exhaustion and irony—had you known you were going to get sick anyway, you never would have let Crosshair sleep on the sofa.

You got up and didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas. You walked into the living room to find Crosshair was already awake and sitting up on the couch sipping a cup of coffee with a movie in the background, its volume low. He still had a blanket around him, but he didn’t look as groggy as he had the day before. More than that, his handsome features instantly adopted a grin and a heartfelt laugh when he laid eyes on you standing at the edge of the living room in your pajamas, your hair messy as it could ever be, sneezing, and groaning in frustration.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Crosshair shamelessly teased you.

“You did this to me,” you frowned, and your features scrunched even more when Crosshair laughed at the way you were now pronouncing your m’s.

“Funny how the tables turn, darlin’,” Crosshair smirked.

“And I suppose you’re feeling better?” You raised a brow at him.

“Better than yesterday, but…” Crosshair looked around at the living room before looking back at you. “I could use another day of rest.”

You smiled at him. “Lucky.”

Crosshair gave a light chuckle and opened one of his arms, inviting you to sit next to him under the warmth of his blanket. You slouched your way over to him and took a seat, snuggling into his lean figure, and Crosshair wrapped his arm and the rest of the blanket around you, gently kissing the side of your head.

“You want some soup?” He asked you.

You nodded, snuggling deeper into Crosshair’s warmth.

“I’ll call Wrecker,” Crosshair said before planting another gentle kiss on your temple and reaching for his holopad, and as long as you were curled up to him, the day ahead of you could take whatever turns it wanted.

[alxtiny]

New hair? | Jung Wooyoung x reader

Synopsis: where your brother’s best friend ends up becoming something more

Pairing: jung wooyoung x san’s sister!reader, brother’s best friend au

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: none :)

Notes: Hah I’m on time today hehehehehehe, Happiest Birthday to our Wooyoungie :D

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The apartment was unusually loud today, not that you minded. Ateez had just wrapped up their comeback promotions, and the guys were taking a much needed break. Your brother, San, decided to come stay with you for the duration since your place was conveniently close to the dorms and the company building yet far enough from their everyday chaos. San’s presence was always welcome, there was still a room reserved for your dear brother with several of his favourite things in it, but along with him usually came a headache named Wooyoung. Now it wasn't that you hated Wooyoung or anything, you just happened to like him a little too much.

Your feelings for him had been quietly brewing for six long years—since his trainee days when he practically lived at your house, sticking to San like glue. Back then, you were awkward, caught in your teen phase, and Wooyoung had always treated you with an equal amount of affection as he gave San. You never minded those random hugs he gave you or the way he made himself comfortable with his head resting on your lap on movie nights, until one day. After their first comeback, Wooyoung had started looking a little too good and you found your heart beating a little faster than it usually did. Of course you always assumed he thought of you as a little sister and never made a move, not wanting to lose what you already had.

San, being the annoyingly perceptive brother he was, already figured out your not-so-little crush on his best friend years ago when he caught you gushing over Wooyoung’s fancams. He never pressured you to confess, but he wasn’t subtle in his approval either.

Now, Wooyoung was here, lounging comfortably on your couch, and you had to tread very carefully around him, trying to make sure you wouldn’t make any awkward mistakes.

But it seems fate didn’t like it that way. It was a good day, you had an off from work and San was preoccupied since all the other boys had come over too and had taken over your living room, it was a ‘sleepover’ as San claimed it to be. It was also Wooyoung’s birthday, the boys having partied hard the day before, chose to relax today. You realised your apartment somehow always ended up being the hotspot for these sleepovers, even though it wasn’t all that big, but you enjoyed nonetheless, all the guys were super nice to you, even if they occasionally flirted with you. At those times, usually san or wooyoung would come to your rescue.

You were tasked with making a huge lot of ramen, while the guys were engaged in an intense round of whatever video game they were on now, they had ordered fried chicken and some other side dishes to go with it as well. You slowly stirred the ramen, the scent of the broth filling the kitchen, lost in your thoughts, “Need help?” San’s voice startled you as he appeared beside you with Yeosang.

“Perfect timing,” you replied, handing them trays of bowls. Together, the three of you distributed the nine bowls of ramen in the living room, joining the rest of the group as the fried chicken delivery arrived.

Your favourite movie was put on, Howlks Moving Castle, the boys were sprawled across your couch and floor, plates and bowls in hand. You found yourself nestled very comfortably between San and Wooyoung under a large, fluffy blanket. The cozy warmth from their bodies threatened to lull you to sleep.

Halfway through the movie, a yelp startled you.

“Ow, hot, hot!” Wooyoung exclaimed, jolting upright. He had spilled some of the soup from his ramen onto his shirt, the stain spreading rapidly across the light blue fabric.

“Careful!” you fussed, setting his bowl aside and helping him fan the hot liquid off his skin. The movie was paused as everyone shuffled around, but you were already pulling Wooyoung toward San’s room.

Inside San’s room, you rummaged through the closet for a clean shirt.

“You cut your hair? It looks different,” Wooyoung asked suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “I did. Is it… not good?”

“What? No way!” he said, sounding almost offended. “You look even more beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks warmed at the nickname. “Oh… thanks,” you murmured, tucking a strand behind your ear.

Wooyoung smirked, leaning casually against the doorway as you handed him a shirt. “Thanks,” he said. But before you could leave to give him privacy, he pulled his soiled shirt off, revealing his toned chest.

You froze, trying not to let your eyes wander, as your face grew hot. “Uh—I’ll just—”

“Why so shy?” he teased, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“I’m not shy!” you shot back, spinning around to face the wall.

He chuckled, and you felt his presence behind you. “Do I fluster you, sweetheart?” His voice dropped an octave, sending shivers down your spine.

You turned back, heart pounding as you found him standing closer than expected. His face was awfully close to yours, eyes gleaming with mischief and if you wanted you could kiss him, which is exactly what you did. You pecked his cheek lightly, making Wooyoung blink in surprise, and you took the opportunity to make a run for the door.

Unfortunately for you, he was faster.

Wooyoung caught your wrist, spinning you around and pinning you gently against the door. One arm rested beside your head while the other slowly settled on your waist.

“Running away after that?” he murmured, his gaze softening.

Your breathing hitched. “Woo—”

“Let me talk first,” he interrupted, his thumb rubbing against your hip. “You’ve plagued my thoughts for so long now. I see your pictures online, looking all pretty in those cute little outfits of yours, and I can’t help but think how much better they’d look if I were beside you, and god every single time you mentioned some boyfriend, it made me so mad, that why didn’t I have you for myself yet. I didn’t say anything because you’re Sannie’s little sister, but…” He paused, exhaling deeply, he lifted a lock of your hair. “Now you’re teasing me again, looking so tempting with your new hair. I can’t hold it in anymore.”

Your heart was racing, you gulped at his confession and decided to do something crazy.

You grabbed his collar and kissed him. You almost pulled back, before he responded, his lips pressing back much more intensely, his hand on you waist pulling you closer to him and your arms going around his neck, as his kissed you with fervour. His tongue teased your bottom lip before you were forced to part for air.

You pulled away, your foreheads resting together, both of you flushed and breathless.

“Happy Birthday to me, I guess,” he laughed, “You’re full of surprises, always know how to drive me insane” he kissed you again, “So, can I call you mine now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, unable to stop smiling.

Before either of you could say more, a knock sounded at the door.

San poked his head in, his eyes narrowing as he took in your flushed faces and disheveled appearances. “Are you two okay? You’ve been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Wooyoung answered quickly.

San scanned the room one more time before smirking. Slowly closing the door, he yelled back into the living room, “They’re totally together now!”

A chorus of cheers erupted from the rest of Ateez.

“About time!” Yunho hollered.

You and Wooyoung laughed, leaning into each other as you listened to the chaos outside. “They’ve known all along, haven’t they?” you asked.

“Probably,” Wooyoung replied with a fond smile. You just laughed, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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[ktficworld]

Behind The Red Curtains

Pairing: soft dark! Steve Rogers x actress! reader

Summary: You come to know that your success might not be solely because of your talent.

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, forced relationship, bondage, size kink, degradation + praise kink, choking, oral(f receiving ), unprotected sex( it's fiction, your life's not), dirty talk, explicit language, explicit sexual content.

(Let me know if I forgot something)

Prompt: Oral sex, overstimulation, praise, Mob au, Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”

A/N: So, this is my entry for the cum together extravaganza hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18

I wanted to write this for a long time after the provocation by @biteofcherry 👀. I hope you all enjoy and this is my first time writing smut so, be gentle.

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Main masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

“Johnny Storm was seen with the new sensation in the modelling industry yesterday night. Rumor has it-”

You pressed the switch-off button with more force than needed as the squeaky voice of the anchor finally died down. Throwing the remote across the bed, you groaned in agitation.

You were dating Johnny Storm. Everything was going well, the meeting was story worthy, he was handsome, charming and had some good qualities you were looking for. This was the first relationship you got into since entering the film industry. Because you may be a hopeless romantic, but you were also choosy.

You didn’t know what happened in the process that just torpedoed your budding relationship. One day you were walking out of a cafe hand-in-hand and the next day, he was fucking some modelling sensation. Maybe you got lost in translation.

Or maybe he was just a fucking asshole. No matter what happened it showed you his true colors. That or instead of coming to you to talk out his issues, he went around, fucking and ghosted you.

Oh, but that was not the problem. The real problem was that you were shooting a movie with him. A romantic movie, with sex scenes. And you have no idea how you would be able to show any affection or chemistry on the screen without being awkward as fuck. This would be the best test of your acting skills for sure.

“Why do you look like you regret being born?” your friend and manager, Wanda asked as she entered your room.

You glanced at her and rolled your eyes. She was trying to lighten your melancholic mood but, it was of no use. “You know damn well why.”

She sighed. “I know, but you’re a great actress. You could easily pull off a serial killer then a rom-com is nothing for you. Don’t get worked up about it. Just imagine your celebrity crush instead.”

You laughed at that. You worked with people whom the masses considered celebrity and if you had a crush, you’d simply ask them out. So, you’re stuck in that department.

“I appreciate your support and I’ll get over this. Just give me some time. Is that why you came here?”

Wanda shook her head with a smile. “No, actually the PR guy told me to tell you to go to partage restaurant. Someone wants to meet you.”

You frowned. “You know if I started giving time to ‘someones’ then I won’t even be able to breathe. I need the specifics.”

“He didn’t tell me. Said the person didn’t want to be known till you meet them. But he said you need to go or they’ll be pissed and it could pose a problem to your career.”

Some rich asshole again. You pinched your nose in frustration. People really glamorised a celeb’s life but if they knew that you all have to play rich people’s puppets, they wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about it. 

“Fine, I’ll go. What time and day?”

“8 p.m Sunday.”

“Great. Now get lost, I need my beauty sleep.”

Your heels clicked on the floor as you stepped inside the restaurant to utter silence. 

The usually bustling restaurant was deserted. There was no violin swimming in the air, mingling with the chatter of the expensive people, the polished tables had no spilled drinks and the fine plates had no leftovers. The lobby had no sight of a reception and all the staff had evaporated out of existence. You were half doubting yourself that maybe you arrived at the wrong time or date. Maybe the restaurant was closed.

But all of them vanished when a prim and proper lady approached you. You had never seen her before but you didn’t care to ask if she was new.

“Good evening, ma’am, you may go to the VIP area upstairs. Sir is waiting for you there.” She said in a professional voice.

“Yeah, sure. But can I ask why the restaurant is empty?”

“He booked the entire restaurant.” She said like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was not like this place costed more than the top-paying actors in the Hollywood.

You thanked the woman with a polite smile you went upstairs to get to the VIP section.

The he made you shudder from inside. Another sleazy old man who thought that you would open your legs for him just because he was rich was awaiting you and judging by the stunt he pulled. You’d have to be more tactful.

Reaching the shiny golden doors with a lion emblem, separating the demi-gods from the gods, you knocked on the door of the VIP room.

“Come in.” A thick and deep voice called out, making you frown. How come an old man has such a great voice?

Oh, but how wrong you were. Because, as soon as you opened the door, in front of you, sat a man who was far from aged. He was pure muscles. His rings sparkled in the chandelier lights. Draped in the finest black suit with his blonde hair combed back, sat none other than Steve Rogers, the mafia lord of New York. The one who you have been trying to avoid your entire career. Who posed as a successful businessman but everyone was aware of how he earned his dollars. Just, they were too afraid to acknowledge it.

You couldn’t move an inch, frozen from fear and surprise. You had only met him once, during the premiere of your debut film and people had acted like he wasn’t someone who could wipe them off from the face of the earth without even blinking an eye. That night, his eyes were glued to you like Hades's gaze on Persephone. So intense and consuming that you never wanted to see him again.

And now, here you were.

“Sit down, darling.” He husked out, the sound of alcohol filling his glass reverberating through the walls.

Breaking out of your trance with a gulp. You pulled out the chair and sat down across from him while your heart was in your throat. “Good evening, Mr. Rogers. What brings me the pleasure of your company.’ You managed to get out without your voice cracking.

He smirked and leaned back on his chair. “It’s your beauty, your talent and your creativity that brings you here, sweetheart. I’m a big fan of art and beautiful things, you are both of them.”

“Thank you…” You drawl out, expecting him to continue.

“I liked you the moment I saw you. In your pink dress, you looked so innocent, so shy. Overwhelmed by the media attention. I knew you would do something big so I gave you the freedom to shine and shine you did. However, it looks like your freedom has got to your head.” The last sentence was said with a lower voice and an ominous smile.

Your hands became sweaty as they clamped down on the armrest. “I’m not getting what you are trying to say.” You whispered out. 

His chuckle only made your heartbeat faster as he leaned forward and his gaze bore into your soul. “Let me rephrase, I claimed you the moment I saw you. But I knew you had potential so I let you go but your little dance with Johnny Storm made me realise it was time you became mine.”

“What-what did you do?” You choked out but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer.

You yelped as he yanked your chair closer towards him till your knees were touching. Your chest moved rapidly as he leaned closer, his hands covering yours on the armrest.

“Awww, don’t play stupid, honey. Johnny, he’s a himbo and you are mine,” He said as his left hand moved to caress your cheek as you flinched away from his touch. “So, I pulled some strings, fed some mouths with dollars and your cute little on-set romance came to an end.” Your eyes widened in horror as he was the one that ended your relationship with Johnny. 

He gripped your face in his big hand and turned your head so that his eyes burned through yours. “Trust me, honey, I was generous with him. I could have him disappear and no one would have given a shit.”

“No.” You whispered, wrenching his hands away. You suddenly stood up from your chair, effectively surprising him.

“No?”

“That is not happening. I don’t want to be with you, I’m sorry.”  You stumbled back to the door but before you could touch the doorknob, you were whirled around and pushed against it.

“When did I tell you, you could say no?” Steve growled his hand wrapping around your throat. “If you think you can reject me then you are sorely mistaken, darling. Don’t forget that the production house you work with the most is mine.” 

You gasped. How could it be his? It was of Tony Stark, you scorched the earth and back and found no such connection. 

Steve noticed your reaction and tsked.“You didn’t know? Don’t worry, you are not stupid sweetheart. The public doesn’t know that Stark is nothing but my pawn.” His other hand snaked around to squeeze your ass through your jeans and you screwed your eyes shut as his touch sent tingles through your body and your breaths became shorter.

He tugged you closer to him with your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. “Now, do you still want to be stubborn?”

Now, you were no dumbo. If Steve can jeopardize your relations with his production then he can also ruin your entire career. Mob involvement in the film industry is an unsaid rule. However, you didn’t know their claws were so deep and sharp.

“And what if I leave? Leave this industry?” What could be more precious than your pride?

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Then you’ll just be the wife of Steve Rogers who was an actress. Remember princess, I’ll never leave you alone. If I held onto you for three years what makes you think I’ll not find you and drag you to my hell?” 

Tears threatened your waterline as you murmured. “You are really forcing me?” What a stupid question to be asking a mobster.

He let out a throaty chuckle and moved his hand from your neck to his pant pocket however he was still invading your private space as his lips were inches away from your lips. “I’m giving you options: either come willingly or I’ll force you. Your choice, darling.” 

He fished out a silver card from his pocket, tracing the sharp and cold edges of it on your face, meandering down your neck and stopping only when it reached the valley of your breast. You gasped harshly when he slid the card inside your bra, the chilled hard paper resting against your warm skin.

“My number, call me when you make a decision. You have one week.”  He whispered against your lips before sealing the unspoken vow with a kiss.

With that he slipped away from your body and took his seat again like dark clouds gilding away from the moon before shortly, engulfing it once again. He resumed sipping from his glass like nothing serious happened and said nonchalantly. “You can go now.” 

You ran to your car like you were burned. Which you were, your soul was burning. Burning from the choices you were given. Which was essentially choosing which cage you preferred better, golden or grey.

“Did you like the dinner?” Steve asked in his deep voice as he sat across from you at the dining table.

Blinking your eyes away from the full moon that shone outside the dining room window, you glanced at Steve and nodded. “Yes, I liked it.” 

You did come to him willingly in the end, after all, what choice did you have? The moment you admitted your defeat and called Steve flashed in front of your eyes. His smug and triumphant words ringing in your ears.

“Nice choice, princess.”

“You seem to like the moon a lot,” Steve observed as his piercing gaze never left you, noting your every move and reaction.

You looked down at your hands, clasped in front of you. His presence still sent chills of fear down your spine. His imposing figure and intense gaze made your heart race. Not to mention the way his eyes sparkled with desire and lust whenever they laid upon you.

“Yes, the night is beautiful.” You replied softly.

“Do you want to go upstairs? In the balcony for a better view? I also have a very pretty garden.” Steve offered and you refrained from frowning. 

From the moment you accepted his advances, Steve has been acting like the perfect lover. Sending flowers, expensive gifts, wanting to have nice and deep conversations and supporting you in your work. But still, you couldn’t decipher if he was actually being nice or plain manipulative.

However, you had grown tired, sitting and chatting in the room, the walls suffocating you. “I would like that.”

Steve grinned and stood up from his chair, taking a few long strides he reached you and offered you his hand. “Let’s go.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, slipping your hand in his, you got up. You sucked a sharp breath when his hand tightened around your smaller one and his eyes grew darker. You ignored the building tension as he led you upstairs, to the balcony.

His mansion was spectacular, painted beige with marble murals. It resembled old French castles with intricate paintings from Greek mythology on walls to railing carved with various plant and flower motifs.

When he said he enjoyed beauty, he wasn’t bluffing.

Stepping on the top floor, there was a lounge area with a fireplace on the right and a couch on the left. In front was the glass door leading to the balcony. Steve opened the door and you had to hold back your gasp as the view was absolutely breathtaking. 

It had the same marble railing as before and also had a sitting space for two people with two chairs and one glass table, perfect for a cosy morning or evening. The balcony ran along the entire top floor, connected with all the rooms.

However, the main highlight was the enormous garden that stood before your eyes. Tall trees were perched vertically of all types, some bearing fruits, some flowers and some none. Speaking of flowers, bright, colourful flowers adorned the garden like jewels. Rose, jasmine, sunflower, etc scattered all over with moonlight pouring on them.

It was straight out of a princess movie and you could spend your entire life wandering inside it, reading books under the tree shade.

“It’s gorgeous.” You whispered to Steve as you stepped forward, leaning on the railing.

“I know, my mother made it. She wanted me to keep the garden big and flourishing. So, I put everything I could to keep it perfect.” Steve revealed and moved behind you, his body pressing against yours.

You were so engrossed in gazing at the garden that you missed his hand coming to cover yours and he laid a soft kiss on your cheek.

“What are you doing?” You questioned as you tried to step away from his grip but he had you trapped.

“Enjoying my view,” He said as he gripped your hips and pressed them against him, his semi-hard cock pressing against your ass. “See what you do to me?”

His lips trailed down, kissing and sucking on your neck. His left hand travelled from your hips to your breast, he squeezed the underside of your tities while grinding his erection against your bottom. Your breathing was getting heavy as he continued to massage your boobs and sucked on your neck, collarbone and shoulder.

You had to refrain from biting your lips. His strong body and demanding moves were making you unwillingly wet. But he forced you into a relationship you didn’t want, you didn’t want this, right?

“I don’t want to do it.” You whispered despite wanting nothing but his hands under your scarlet dress.

“No?” He chuckled. “Let’s check, shall we?” He whispered seductively in your ear.

Your eyes widened as you thrashed in his grip but he stopped all your attempts to deny the truth with a hand around your neck and a squeeze that made you go still. His other hand glided under your dress and found your panties damp.

“Your pussy proved you wrong, princess.” He said with a smug laugh. He sucked at your pulse point as his fingers moved your lace panties aside and caressed your folds. The suddenness made you let out a choked moan as your hold tightened on the railing.

His words embarrassed you but you couldn’t deny that his touch was making your body betray you. He played your body like an instrument.

His fingers ran along your petals, spreading your arousal and brushing your clit, his index finger teasing your entrance when he abruptly stopped.

You blinked, gasping and panting. You were about to glance at him in confusion when he bent you over, your head resting against the marble railing as he went down on his knees, bunching up your dress around your waist. He ripped off your panties, the sound heating your cheeks with humiliation.

“You deserve to be punished.” He said through gritted teeth as he slapped your clit, making you jerk at the delicious sting as he spread your legs wider for him so your pussy was on full display. Wet and ready.

“Spank your ass till it’s burning for going out with that pathetic excuse of a man Johnny or have Bucky watch you as I fuck you senseless. He’s also a fan after all." He spread your labia and sucked on your clit, making you moan out loud as your stomach flipped.

“But I can’t, because this pussy is too tempting of a distraction.” He lamented as his lips went down to your pussy and his tongue teased your cunt with slow yet precise strokes.

Your left hand moved to his hair and tugged on the blonde locks as his administration made your clit pulsate with need. You couldn’t decipher whether you wanted him to stop or continue.

He tutted on you pulling his hair. You whimpered at the loss of his mouth on your pussy when the clicking of his belt echoed in the empty space. He yanked both your hands behind your back and secured them in place with his belt, the grip firm but not harsh. 

“No.Touching.” He growled in your ear as his words were accentuated by a slap on each of your buttcheeks, making you whimper in pain and pleasure as you let your forehead rest against the cool marble and he knelt again.

He took your clit in his mouth again but with more ferocity as your pussy clenched around nothing, “Oh my god, Steve yes!” You mewled.

“Captain or I won’t let you cum.” He commanded as his fingers joined in and drew slow and teasing circles around your cunt.

“Captain, please.” You pleaded as your orgasm started to build up in your stomach.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl.” He finally eased his index finger inside of you, his thick and long finger filling your pussy and you were afraid as to how you were going to take his cock as his finger alone stretched your vagina.

He pumped his finger in and out of you all the while kissing and sucking your clit. When you bucked into his finger he added another one, exploring your velvety walls to find your spot that would make you sing. He curled his fingers when you dripped around his fingers and mouth.

“Mhmm, captain. Feels so good.” You cried out as your climax was approaching you faster, your skin glistening with sweat under the pale moonlight. It was so embarrassing, being this crying and moaning mess he had turned you into. His hands kneading your thighs and ass.

“Are you going to cum, princess?” Steve asked in a husky voice as he kept up his pace, replacing his mouth with his thumb to grow circles around the bundle of nerves,

Your skin was on ablaze, the coil tightening in your belly as you were tethering on the of falling apart. “Yes, Captain. Please let me cum.” You requested, spellbound. He didn’t need to ask you to beg, you were already sliding into your subspace. His finger found your g spot as he twisted his fingers, making you whimper as your breath shuddered.

He snickered, sending vibrations through your body. “I didn’t know you were so obedient, good to know.”His hand came down on your clit and it was the final straw that threw you over the edge. 

You came with a loud moan as the blinding pleasure brought tears to your eyes and you gushed around his lips and fingers, coating his chin. He lapped all your juice, his pace not halting as he drank your nectar greedily.

Your body was quivering from the force of your orgasm, your heart racing as you tried to collect yourself.

Steve got up on his feet and you almost collapsed when he wrapped a sturdy hand around your shaking body, pressing you against his chest. He jutted your chin up and grinned down at you. “Aw, you already look so fucked out darling but it’s just the beginning, we have the whole night.” He smashed his lips with yours, swallowing your tired whimpers and moans.

After devouring your mouth and leaving you breathless. He picked you up and started walking to his left. You were too dizzy to notice your surroundings till you were hitting silk bed sheet and plush mattress. You glanced at Steve through your hazy vision as he stood at the end of the bed.

He smirked down at you. “How about you return the favour, sweetheart? Strip.” He ordered and it was enough to clear your mind of any hangover.

Your hand snaked to your back and you slid down the zipper and pulled off your dress, your breast clad in red lace coming into view as you completely removed the dress and discarded it on the floor.

You then unclasped your bra, trepidation and anticipation mingling together as your boobs spilled out. Now, you were completely naked, your panties already torn and tossed away.

“On your hands and knees.” He commanded as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, his abs and chest made your mouth water and you wanted to grab and touch him but shook away the thoughts.

You got on your hands and knees, clothes rustling till the bed dipped behind you. Steve ran his hand up your spine, sneaking underneath to grop your breast. You mewled as his thumb tweaked your pebbled nipples, twisting and flickering the buds till you were writhing under him.

His other hand smacked your ass, causing you to whimper. “Spread your legs more, I want to see that pussy.”

You spread your legs some more, displaying your glistening cunt to Steve’s hungry gaze. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He said as he played with you enough that you were whining before he rubbed the tip of his cock over your cunt, spreading your arousal and his pre cum.

You shuddered, you had an inclining that he was big but how much? That you didn’t know since you couldn’t see his dick from your position.

He slapped the head of his cock on your pussy and you visibly shuddered. He did it a few more times before you were dripping for him and was on the verge of sobbing in frustration. 

“Such a shame that it is about to get ruined by my big cock.” He declared and pushed the tip inside you. You moaned as you awaited your eventual mounting.

You clutched the silky sheets as he slowly bottomed out, your walls spasmed as they tried to accommodate his length. You were so full already and he was gracious enough to give you time to adjust. All the while he explored your body, kissing your spine, kneading and spanking your thighs, ass and breasts. His touch was electrifying and in no time, you were whimpering for him to move.

“Ah, someone is getting impatient.” Steve mocked but began moving out of your hot channel. He was slow and deliberate, his girth dragged through your walls and your pussy fluttered.

He hissed. “Don’t do that darling if you want to walk the next day.” He pulled out all the way, only the tip remained inside. Pushing your head further into the pillow as he slammed inside your cunt in one stroke, taking your breath away.

“Look at your pussy, pulling me in and clenching around me,” He grunted as his hold on your hips tightened. He looked where you two were connected and sighed in awe. “I didn’t know you were such a slut, you look so innocent. But look at you now, dripping around a man’s dick you barely know,” He pulled out again and thrusted back in with the same power. The slow yet rough pace he set made you cry out in pleasure as your climax started to stir in your lower belly again. “But I like how cockdrunk you are that you just don’t give a shit anymore.” He groaned and pulled out.

He changed his angle slightly and when he thrusted back again, he hit your g-spot and you screamed, flames of pleasure intensifying. He tugged you by the hair, pressing you against his toned chest. “Tell me that you are my slut.” He growled in my ear.

“I’m your slut, Captain!” you said breathlessly as his deep thrusts made you gasp.

His hand came to your clit and his thumb started drawing circles, making you tremble in his grip. “Yes, you are my slut. My fuck toy, who would let me do whatever I want and whenever I want with her because I own you now. Repeat what I have said.” He thrusted harder and if it wasn't for his strong grip, you would have fallen down. 

“I'm your fuck toy. You can do whatever you want and whenever you want with me because you own me now.” You cried. 

“Such a good obedient girl- Ahh, taking my cock so well. Now, you are going to ask me to make you cum.” He groaned his thumb sped up. Leaning down, he sucked on your pulse point, surely leaving a hickey, marking you as his.

“Please Captain, let me cum! Let me cum around your big cock.” You squealed out. Tilting your face upwards he kissed, hard and rough, you moaned against his lips as you tasted yourself on him.

“Good girl, now cum for me.” He demanded as fingers and thumb pinched your clit, his cock hitting your sweet spot in quick succession.

You shrieked ‘captain’ as you came around his girth, squirting on his dick. “Good, what a good little slut for your captain.” He moaned in satisfaction as he nibbled at your earlobe, fucking you through your release. 

He let go of you when your shaking died down. Your face fell on the pillow as you tried to catch your breath. Your fucked out mind didn’t register that he didn’t come till you were being flipped on your back. Coming face-to-face with his annoyingly handsome face.

“You didn’t think it was over, did you?” He rasped with a smirk as he plunged into your cunt once again, but this time with more fervour.

You instantly mewled but the overstimulation and coming two times had worn you out, you weren’t used to this. You attempted to scoot away from Steve. “I-I can’t, too much.” 

He pulled you back down on his cock, wrapping your legs around his waist. He restrained your hands over his head with one hand, leaving you unable to escape the pleasure he was giving you. “You can and you will. Get used to it, sweetheart. I’m being gentle right now,” He growled as he moved on top of you.

The pace was rough and fast, the bed rattling with each thrust, your boobs jiggled from the speed. He placed his hand on your lower stomach. “Do you feel me here?” He asked, the belly bulge sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, I do, Captain.” You managed to choke out as he pounded in your pussy mercilessly.

“Then enjoy it, honey. Enjoy, writhing and moaning underneath me. My cock stretching your tight cunt, because that’s where you belong. Taking my cock like a good little fuck doll.” He husked as the force of his thrust increased with each passing second. The pain and pleasure mixing made tears fall from your eyes, the knot tightening yet again.

Steve leaned over you, kissing your tears, trailing down to your neck and then your boobs, groping and licking the plump area before taking your pebbled nipples into his hot mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arched, pleasure zapping through your body like thunder as his hot tongue sucked on your nipples and his hand massaged your other breast. All the while his thick cock rammed into you, his pubic areas brushing your clit.

Your hands jolted to touch him but he had your hands pinned above. You shut your eyes and enjoyed the unyielding pleasure he was bestowing upon you as pressure built up for the third time in your stomach. Your moans and his grunts bounced off the wall, so did the clapping sound of skin slapping against the skin.

Suddenly, his grasp loosened before coolness touched your ring finger. You looked up as he slid a beautiful sapphire ring into your finger, sealing your fate with his forever. You managed out a surprised gasp. He brought your hand down and pinned it to your side, giving you a proper view of the ring as it sparkled under the stark glowing moon.

“Imagine me, sweetheart,” Your breath caught in your throat as his speed grew frantic, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt as he chased his own release. “Imagine me when you have to romance on screen with some pitiful A-list actor.” He whispered in your ear, intertwining your hands with his as he kissed your lips. It was softer than the previous ones but no less demanding.

“Imagine me when you have to pretend to fuck someone on set. Because I know,” He whispered against your lips before lowering his hand to your clit and he drew fast circles on the bundle of nerves to help you fall apart. 

Steve cursed under his breath and thrusted faster when your walls clenched his dick. “Because I know that I have ruined you for any other man. Ruined this pussy for anyone except me. So, imagine me when you kiss a man and realize that he’ll never make you feel this good.” You nodded along his words as tears streamed down your cheeks, smearing your eyeliner and mascara but he paid no heed to it. Rather, enjoying your fucked out state.

The fullness of his dick inside your pussy and the overwhelming stimulation finally tipped you over the edge as you came the hardest and it hit you like a tsunami.

After some more brutal thrust, he came inside of you with a loud groan. His hot cum spilling inside your abused cunt as it milked him dry. He pumped into you a few more times, giving you every last drop of his seed and staying inside your warm channels till his cock softened.

He put his forehead against yours as he finally pulled out and you almost whined at the loss of dick but restrained yourself as his cum leaked out of your hole.

Only heavy breaths echoed in the spacious room as both of you caught your breath. You were beyond regaining your previous strength as you couldn’t even move a muscle. However, Steve recovered shortly afterwards as he kissed your forehead and whispered smugly. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.” 

You didn’t answer because he was right, you enjoyed every bit of it even if you didn’t want to. Before you could drown yourself in self-pity. Steve picked you up and took you to his bathroom to soak you in a nice, warm bath…

[mrradmccoolman]

something interesting i've been thinking about lately is the fact that watching dead poets society for the first time, i thought todd would be the one to commit suicide. i can't remember whether i knew one of the characters would going in, or only after my teacher mentioned it as a trigger warning right before the scene (i watched it in class my junior year). i say im getting back into the fandom, but really, i wasn't quite in it before this. in truth, the movie affected me so deeply that i actually avoided it because i didn't know how to handle it (this, along with forgetting seemingly insignificant details about emotional experiences- like whether i knew going in that one of the characters would die or not- happens...concerningly often, and im not sure if it's indicative of a larger problem or if i want to know).

needless to say, i did remember recently that i had assumed todd would be the one to die, and i increasingly believe this is actually not an uncommon belief that new viewers have going in. why is this? well, there are a few obvious and not-so-obvious reasons that i want to go over.

for one, todd is probably the main protagonist of the movie. the other poets are certainly main characters too, but for the most part, we follow todd's journey at Welton from beginning to end. it wouldn’t be irrational to assume that such an important event would happen to him solely due to this fact.

more than that, todd is arguably the most obviously struggling out of all the poets to the naked eye. he has all the hallmarks of a person with low self-esteem and a veritable heft of familial, educational, and social problems. he's crippilingly shy, anxious, and always uncomfortable; he has a hard time connecting with his peers, difficulty coming out of his shell, and cowers under the burden of unreachable expectations from parents who can't seem to pay attention to him as anything other than second best compared to their eldest son. though it isn't ever outwardly shown, it isn't hard to imagine he's a victim of bullying and/or harassment- in fact, though i don't believe the poets would ever bully anyone, they clearly sense his "otherness" as shown by Cameron's comment in the beginning of the movie. even neil doesn't understand him at first, and it takes time for him to really grasp how bad things are for todd. i don't believe todd's parents' reasons for pulling him out of Balincrest are every directly specified, but ive always thought a big part of it could be that he was being picked on by the other students (along with his parents hope that transferring him to Welton would make him succeed like his brother).

i don't know if by the time i was watching neil's scene with his parents after the play that i really knew, completely, what was coming. i think by then i knew it wouldnt be todd to die, but i hadn't fully accepted that neil would in his stead. there was a sort of comfort in feeling like i knew what would happen, only for the movie to pull the rug out from beneath me and leave me devastated. not that i would've been less sad if todd had died- just that, when neil did, and i could ruminate on the signs shown through the rest of the movie and the grief and the direness of the situation, i was left reeling at the suddenness.

of course, looking back on it, it makes complete sense that it would be neil. knowing his situation, his history, and his personality, it seemed painfully obvious. but i only really realized that after the fact, like i imagine the poets did as well.

ive already mentioned quite a few times on this blog neil's depression and how things were for him, including his relationship with his father, but that's because i find it especially painful in the way i can relate. i imagine a neil who has been struggling with depression since he was very young, crushed under the weight of a father who had planned out who he was meant to be since his birth. a neil who doesn't understand why he's so damn empty all the time, who doesn't speak up because he fears what it means. a neil who has all these feelings about boys that he shouldn't, that finally come to a head when he connects with todd and he can't ignore them anymore. a neil who loves his father, who wants to make him proud. a neil begging somebody, anybody to listen, but his words fall on deaf ears. he is not an adult. he has no control. there is no one to save him, no one to help him. he is trapped. every light has been snuffed out.

i wouldn't hesitate to say that by now, most people are at least aware of the fact that depression manifests in many different ways, some less obvious than others. on the surface, it's easy to view neil as one of those people- he's smiley, focused, talented; he has a group of friends that love him, things he's passionate about, a family who wants what they believe is best for him. he's the textbook definition of somebody who doesn't seem like they'd have issues with mental health.

but...that's not true. maybe for the teachers who barely talked to him, or the families who met him in passing and told their own sons to strive to be like him, but anyone who'd spent more than an hour talking to him who knew about depression would be able to recognize something wrong. he's somehow both responsible and also completely reckless with no regard to the consequences, as if his own life is a game he can play with. his interactions with his own family are stilted and awkward. he gets angry and lashes out like a trapped animal when questioned; the few times he does open up, he speaks with the desperation of a boy prisoner in his own mind. he connects so deeply to todd because he relates to him, because he feels understood by him. he willfully ignores his future and it's implications because when he finally faces it, he knows it will be too much for him to bear.

and it's this, perhaps, that makes it so incredibly frustrating that everything culminated in his decision to commit suicide- because there were signs, clear as day, over and over and over and over and nobody did anything about it. the only people who really tried, directly, didn't have the power or the knowledge to change anything for him. it was so preventable. the movie leaves you breathless with anger at how different things could have been.

i genuinely want to hear everyone else's thoughts/perceptions on this, because i find it really interesting and part of what makes the film so emotional.

[chiara-hotel]

𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓂

Characters: Jonou & Tecchou

Spoilers: Hunting Dogs Appearances

- Ever had a golden retriever as a pet?

- Tecchou is very similar to one

- He follows you all over whenever hes not on a mission

- Quiet, occasionally says “I love you” at the most random moment

- Cuddles quite a lot whenever hes with you

- Loves sleeping while cuddling, specifically him holding your waist and keeping you close

- Often times he goes on important missions and leaves for a long time so he gives you one of his capes, sweaters, anything to make you remember him (and yes, he takes something from you)

- But occasionally Fukuchi will just let you go with him, especially if its a foreign country

- In his (Fukuchi’s) eyes it seems less suspicious ion Tecchous part

- Not too much though because Tecchou tries to keep you out of his missions

- If need be, he’ll gladly risk himself to protect you though

- Your regular dates include Movies, Arcades and Workouts

- If you don’t like working out then you help him workout (ex, sitting on top of him while he does pushups or lying underneath him while doing pushups so he can kiss you every time)

- If he ever gets tired in that last example, then he can just lie ontop of you and hug you

- He loves hugs, but won’t initiate them often, usually he hugs you from behind though

- Not a huge fan of PDA but okay with small things like a small kiss, hand holding or a quick hug

- You’ve met all of his friends in the Hunting Dogs, you know Jonou the most though since he goes on missions with him often

- Jouno mainly tells you to “put some sense into Tecchou”

- Fukuchi also doesn’t care if your with Tecchou as long as it doesn’t affect his performance as a Hunting Dog

- Tachihara you saw once then dipped to the mafia

- Of course you get invited whenever they go on trips or such because your Tecchou’s partner

- On the surface it seems like me might not do a lot for you but he cares for you very much

- One of his favourite things is saying “I love you” and listening to your heartbeat rise before you say I love you back

- Or when he holds you close to him, and he hears your heart

- He can’t exactly see but he’ll always know what your thinking

- Touch is an important element to him, so cuddling often happens, even when around close friends he often has an arm around your shoulder

- In public not often though because if someone were watching he wouldn’t want to reveal his main weakness now would he??

- Although it does happen occasionally

- His favourite type of dates include cafe dates, picnic dates & movie dates

- You occasionally join him at the gym aswell (mostly to motivate him, unless you also enjoy working out)

- He sometimes tries to do pushups with you on him or even try to lift you up & down as an exercise

- Fukuchi also allows you to go on missions with Jouno when it’ll be a while

- Jouno can keep you out of harms way & its nice vacation for you both

- You’ve met Tecchou a few times and are friends

- Don’t get too close to Tecchou though because Jouno will get Jealous and take you away

- Jouno doesn’t get jealous often either, if someone hits on you in public or buys you a drink he has full confidence that you will turn them down

- He loves to watch you crush their hearts too

[etrsilk]

Please can we get a main 4 x reader during ovulation? It's coming up and I'm literally like a feral beast 😭 also I love your writings so far 💕💕

₊✩‧₊˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ⇝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: 𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘢,𝘎𝘰𝘯,𝘒𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘢,𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 — ✘

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

⎝ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚:: I love this request so much!! also sorry, it’s quite short 😭 and thank you very much <3💕

 —𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

➘ Killua would be a bit embarrassed; it’s not that it was really a taboo subject for him, but rather that among the many blood-related topics discussed, this one wasn’t the most frequent (lmao)

➘ If you tend to have very painful periods, he would probably do his best to be as attentive and caring as possible. If your periods aren’t very painful, he would allow himself to tease you and be a bit playful, but nothing too harsh… he’s just trying to lift your spirits in his own way!

➘ In reality, he worries a bit and tries to be as comforting, patient, and empathetic as possible, although he can be a bit clumsy

➘ he would act a bit like in this headcanon, He would act a bit like in these headcanons, trying to take care of you as he would with a sick reader, with lots of tenderness and attention !

 —𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐊𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

➘ He would be absolutely the best. You wouldn’t even need to tell him what you need; he would already show up with a prepared hot water bottle, the necessary medication, and your favorite snacks.

➘ He would feel really sorry for you if you had painful periods and would do everything he could to ease your discomfort. He’d offer massages, keep you company, and find ways to distract you to make you feel better.

➘ He would also be incredibly cuddly, showering you with tenderness and affection. He would make sure you exert as little effort as possible and get plenty of rest. He’d take care of you by serving you everything you need and handling the small tasks so you can relax.

➘ Regarding your mood, he would try to be as tolerant and patient as possible. He’d always give you the benefit of the doubt to avoid arguments and support you in every difficult moment. He would do everything to make you feel loved and understood, even during the most uncomfortable times.

 —𝐆𝐎𝐍ꫂ ၴႅၴ

➘ Despite growing up surrounded by women, he knows very little about it… He barely understands what it is. I see Mito as a rather “conservative” person, and his grandmother simply never had the chance to discuss this topic with him.

➘ Even so, I don’t think he would be particularly embarrassed when you talk about it! It’s just frustrating because he doesn’t know much and therefore doesn’t really know how to help you or what you might be going through. But fortunately, his savior was there to explain everything and give him advice…

➘ LEORIO!!

➘ He would try to be as attentive, caring, and gentle with you as possible. He would frequently ask if you’re okay and would bring you hot water bottles or medication on his own initiative.

➘ he would act a bit like in this headcanon, he would try to comfort you and distract you by planning movie nights or fun activities like that!

 —𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎ꫂ ၴႅၴ

➘ Leorio would know you’re going to have your period even before you do.

➘ As a doctor, he is VERY knowledgeable and would do everything possible to relieve your menstrual pain with all the existing methods available. He would give you massages and use innovative, and maybe even a bit surprising, techniques to help you feel better.

➘ The fact that he’s a doctor makes him even more understanding and attentive to your needs!

➘ Being a true gentleman, he would offer to do all the housework and daily chores, of course. He would make sure you don’t have to do anything other than rest.

➘ To comfort you, he would try to make you laugh with his jokes and charming humor. He would do everything to make you feel loved and supported during this time.

—English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!!

[corellianhounds]

Redrafting The Phantom Menace

This is an informal essay/pitch meeting restructuring and changing The Phantom Menace to better utilize its characters and to make it a more compelling sequence of events.

Word Count: 5k

Art Credit: Doug Chiang

I think The Phantom Menace needs some of the biggest revisions of the prequels to set these characters up to be used better not just in the trilogy but in the film itself because not only is Obi-Wan mostly absent for all of Act II and nothing he does in that time affects the main plot on Tatooine, but Amidala’s presence doesn’t really add anything to it either. She learns a little about the culture on Tatooine and she meets Anakin and Shmi (which will be relevant in the next movie), but nothing she says or does affects the plot. Any of her protests against Qui-Gon don’t amount to anything since he’s the adult calling the shots, nothing in Act III is affected by their regard of one another, and she honestly could have just met Anakin on the ship on their return to Coruscant. Qui-Gon ends up being the main character of the movie, which I think was a mistake when Kenobi should have been the lens through which we saw the story unfold.

I don’t especially care for the slavery plot point to begin with because it doesn’t compel me as much as if Anakin and Shmi were just dirt poor. The slavery scenario feels like a way for the plot to keep Anakin and Shmi apart and for Shmi to remain destitute and it takes any real choice of the matter out of their situation. Of course she’s going to let Anakin go the second an opportunity like the one Qui-Gon’s offering falls out of the sky, who wouldn’t?

If she’s stuck in the cycle of poverty and had a choice in the matter of sending her extra set of hands away while she stays behind, that gives a little more meat to her character. Have her indebted to the Hutts or something, give her some astronomical loans she’s struggling to pay off, meaning everything they can spare just gets funneled directly into that debt so they have very little money or means to escape to a better life. What that sets up is Shmi being given the agency and genuine choice of either sending Anakin to be a Jedi because she wants him to have a better life, or keeping him there to help her work off the debt. The control chip won’t be keeping them tethered to that location and it keeps both Amidala and Qui-Gon from being complacent in leaving Shmi to be a slave.

If you wanted for Shmi and Anakin to be slaves, but wanted to solve some of the moral quandaries and give all of the characters more active roles in driving the story (and not just tell the audience “These are the circumstances, the Jedi can’t get involved with local matters, their hands are tied”) what you could have done was have Obi-Wan join Qui-Gon and Amidala on their trip instead of Jar Jar. Shmi explains the circumstances keeping them slaves, Obi-Wan can see Qui-Gon leaning towards doing something to help them, but because he’s more inclined towards following the rules than Qui-Gon is, Kenobi tells them honestly that they don’t have enough people to fight for the freedom of the slaves, and they’re already short on funds and already on a mission trying to save people on Naboo.

Kenobi’s also the one to also bring up a logical part of the Jedi Code: instead of saying they can’t interfere with local politics, he points out an obvious rule they would have in saying “The Jedi aren’t allowed to buy slaves either,” because yeah obviously the Jedi wouldn’t be allowed to do that. Even if that’s the easiest way to free somebody, the Jedi can’t do anything that would compromise other people’s faith in them, because yeah maybe you freed that person, but now that person either has to remain on the planet where that practice still exists and they could easily end up there again once you leave, OR you as the Jedi have to take them with you and hmmmmmmm seems pretty suspicious if you ask me, sounds like you just bought yourself your own slave.

Even dropping that person on a safe planet isn’t a great option because they would likely have no understanding of or foundation on that planet, and they especially wouldn’t have a support network of any kind. How much money, time, and resources do you have to devote to setting them up for success, now that you’ve gotten them out of a life of bondage? Completely uprooting yourself and starting from nothing in a completely new country alone is bad enough— Imagine an entirely separate planet. The alternative is obviously keeping that person with you and placing them under your own care and protection, but that’s exactly what makes you look like you bought a person to begin with and now we’re back to square one.

But, Amidala is there, and she’s a queen. She would likely have oodles of money at her disposal. Ignore the whole “Republic credits don’t spend out here” and say SHE offers to buy both Anakin and Shmi’s freedom, extending the offer by saying Anakin could train at the temple and Shmi could become a ladies maid or a consultant to the queen on Outer Rim territories, something Amidala even says she’s not familiar with. Both of them would be taken care of, Shmi would have a support network and a means of income and the freedom to leave at any time if she wished, nothing wrong with that.

In the end, however it happens, Shmi could be freed from being a slave (since that happens between this movie and Attack of the Clones anyway), but she makes the choice for herself to decline Amidala’s offer. Tatooine, though a harsh planet, is still her home and all she’s ever known. Being taken out of that environment and thrust into one of courtly nobility isn’t one a lot of people would be able to adapt to. Amidala finds a way to maintain communication so if there’s ever any trouble, Shmi has a contact who cares about her wellbeing, and she chooses for herself to remain behind and let Anakin go because that’s what is best for him. The characters are the ones making choices with their own objectives and reasonable enough justification for what they do instead of the circumstances moving them around.

There’s plenty of other ways the story would change by giving them those more active roles and choices. Obi-Wan and Anakin and Qui-Gon would all obviously have more of a relationship to build off of if they’re all there together, which will make Qui-Gon’s death more meaningful for the both of them and will introduce history that will carry over into Attack of the Clones whenever Anakin thinks Shmi might be in trouble. Amidala would have a more grounded interest and stronger connection to Shmi herself, and Anakin’s frustration with Obi-Wan concerning the rule about one’s personal attachments creates more effective interpersonal conflict when Anakin argues that she’s in danger. “Master, if you had the chance to prevent Qui-Gon’s death— If you’d known ahead of time that it would happen— Wouldn’t you have done whatever you could to stop it?”

If you cut down Act I enough (because you don’t really need the entire underwater sequence, Jar Jar was in exile up on land and you could have just had him lead them to the palace, which would have given us the chance to see the invasion affecting the citizens and common folk), Tatooine could have been the majority of Act I with the race being the climax. Make the Separatists more of an enemy force that’s actually intimidating and isn’t just mad about taxation of trade routes. Say they’ve been doing their own thing independent of the Republic for some time and don’t care about the legality of what they’re doing and have the Jedi discover the droid armies and the plot to take over Naboo because it’s a pacifist planet rich in whatever resources the Separatists want to take for themselves.

Cut out the Gungans and the underwater sequence and have whoever Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan meet on land take them to the Theed palace as a navigator directly. I don’t care for Jar Jar’s character and he doesn’t add anything to the film besides (weak) comic relief and a connection to the Gungan army at the end, which can easily be altered if you give Ahmed Best a better character just as himself, leading the Jedi through the forest to Theed. On the way there we see the recent havoc wreaked by the droid army and the effects the invasion is having on the people of Naboo, making the war feel a lot more real and immediate. Make Best’s people like the people of Rohan in Lord of the Rings who have survived as independent nomads and mounted woodland riders for centuries, not given as much support by the city-states and the capital but otherwise left to their own devices (setting them up to become the main cavalry/fighters at the end). They don’t have to be enemies of Theed, but they're not on great terms. They're the first people we see affected by the war, the destruction a lot more down to earth, showing us the severity of the Separatist’s actions and giving us a legitimate sense of danger and despair.

The three of them make it to Theed and manage to save the queen and her entourage. Amidala is introduced desperately trying to make contact with Palpatine in the Senate, the circumstances conveyed much more urgently than before, and she tells the Jedi that she’d been trying to contact them before the invasion even started. In the midst of the fighting Amidala makes a pointed effort to save Best’s character, the two of them making a connection as they move and showing both him and the audience that the queen does care about what happens to people who live beyond the city and palace walls. Qui-Gon convinces Amidala that they need to get her to Coruscant to plead their case on behalf of her people to the Senate. Amidala pleads for Best’s character to call upon the peoples living in the woods and to tell them that the capital city has been invaded and taken over too but that help is on the way. Amidala may be a pacifist, but this invasion shows her that her ideology won’t save her people because it doesn’t matter to the invaders whether you’ve done anything to “deserve” that oppression or not. Those who don’t live by the sword can still die by them.

If the Senate is too far removed from their corner of the galaxy to see that innocent people are being slaughtered and that the Separatists have waged a war that has isolated Naboo by severing their communications network, then she’s going to plead their case by taking it directly to Coruscant herself. Who’s to say theirs is the first planet the Separatists have done this to? What other occupations might they be unaware of?

The ship is still damaged upon their escape, forcing them to make an emergency landing on Tatooine. Amidala has some money with her, but her accounts have been frozen by the Separatists and she won’t be able to acquire more unless they manage to save Naboo and she’s restored as queen. The Jedi also have some money with them, but even together it’s not enough to buy the hyperdrive piece.

In this timeline we go with Kenobi being present with Qui-Gon and Padmé (still disguising herself as a handmaiden, Qui-Gon having a hunch as to who she is though Kenobi doesn’t know) and we cut out Watto and change the slavery circumstances to the Skywalkers being impoverished and indebted instead. City boy Kenobi, unfamiliar with the terrain or locals, accidentally bumps into whoever it is who tries to start a fight and Anakin jumps in and mediates for them. Qui-Gon thanks him and Anakin points out there’s a storm coming and takes them all back to his and his mom’s place, despite Kenobi’s protests that the mission takes precedence and the ‘queen’ has only her personal guard at the moment, they really should be finding the parts and getting back to the ship.

Over dinner the group discusses their prospects. Anakin was already planning to race in the Boonta Eve Classic to put the prize money towards finally paying off his mother’s debt. He and Shmi exchange a look, and he decides he wants to help them out of the goodness of his heart or whatever and in exchange for part of the money, Qui-Gon also offers him the chance to become a Jedi because he senses there’s something different about this kid. Kenobi protests, citing the fact the boy’s too old and they don’t have a solid reason to think he’s sensitive to the Force (regardless of what Shmi tells them about the circumstances of his birth). Have him be the skeptic providing the opinion the council would give, giving the conflict that will spur conversation between himself and Qui-Gon in order to provide exposition for the audience and prompt tension between himself and Anakin that’ll evolve as their relationship and reliance on one another in this movie progresses.

Now.

The consequence of Kenobi being present for all of this is that his and Anakin’s and Qui-Gon’s relationships are given focus and development, but it also means the ship is left without a Jedi guard.

Now let’s say Darth Maul finds the ship sooner while the main characters are occupied: Maul kidnaps Sabé, kills the rest of the guard, destroys the ship, and then he leaves. Qui-Gon, Kenobi, and Padmé hear what happens from R2, the only one who survives. Cut out whatever extraneous Watto junk happens and have this be what ups the stakes for the race because now they end up needing all of the winnings to buy a whole ship, not just to get a part. Amidala does the whole handmaiden reveal here and they realize that buys them a little time since Sabé signing the treaty will mean nothing when it comes out that she wasn’t actually the queen, but that will only be a possibility if they can provide Coruscant with further evidence of the Separatists’ plot and subjugation of the people.

Kenobi by now has figured out that the disturbance he’s been feeling in the force must have been the dark warrior who tracked their ship and stole the ‘queen,’ R2’s security footage getting them a good look of Maul. Kenobi and Qui-Gon confer and realize that if this guy is a Sith Lord, they HAVE to get back to Naboo to stop him at any cost. If he’s been the real power behind the Separatists this whole time, then losing Naboo to their control must be part of a larger scheme that will lead the Republic to war.

Now it comes back down to Anakin and Shmi. Either Anakin doesn’t want to give them the rest of the money, having wanted to provide for his mom too, and Shmi has to reassure him that she’ll be fine before he agrees to still participate in the race and give them the money, or Anakin’s unaware of the change in circumstances at all and Shmi’s the one to say they can have all of the winnings provided Qui-Gon gives her his word that Anakin will be guaranteed a better life being trained as a Jedi. Either way, Shmi’s the one in control of her decision to let Anakin go while she chooses to remain behind. Despite Amidala’s offer for Shmi to just come with them as part of her court or entourage, Shmi declines, knowing Anakin needs a clean break in order to dedicate himself to this new life and that her place was still there on Tatooine, and the Skywalkers are able to part ways with Anakin still missing his mom.

During the whole Tatooine sequence Kenobi has his doubts about Anakin, but during the race we see Anakin finally do some incredible feat that defies all logic, bringing down a rockslide to his advantage or controlling a dust storm or standing out on the bow of his speeder holding the now-damaged, motley assembly together with the invisible hold of the Force itself as he crosses the finish line. There needs to be a clear show of something unexplainable for both the audience and the other characters to see (Kenobi especially) that convinces us this kid has an exceptional command over the Force even untrained, not just that he’s a child prodigy when it comes to racing and mechanical ingenuity. Kenobi needs to be convinced that taking the kid is a good idea here because it provides the basis for their relationship moving forward and it gives ample reason for Anakin to be included in all of the further peril without any of the responsible characters logically being worried for his safety. (As it is in the movies, we never actually see Anakin do enough to warrant being considered “the Chosen One” since nothing he does isn’t something other trained experts of that skill could feasibly do. He needs to be visibly, uniquely powerful even for a Force-user.)

After the race they have to scramble to get transportation and head back to Naboo. Keep their communications interrupted so they can’t contact the Jedi council back on Coruscant to tell them about the invasion, the handmaiden switch, OR Anakin possibly being the Chosen One.

In this interim we see Maul on his ship discussing his success with Sidious over a holocall, along with the next steps of the plan. Sabé is locked in a holding cell, unbeknownst to Maul acting as a spy and gathering information, reading his lips and figuring out what conversation is being had though she can’t hear the voice of the person in the hood (because logically she’d be able to deduce that it’s Palpatine on the other end of the call). It’s obvious this mysterious agent doesn’t know she’s one of the handmaidens because otherwise she suspects she’d be dead, and it’s clear they need ‘the queen’ alive for something. Depending on how you want to play the scene and the characters, she could either remain stoically silent after he’s done talking to Sidious, taking everything in and observing serenely while environmental storytelling gives us the clues and info she’s picking up on, or Maul could monologue/antagonize her, or she could try to negotiate with him under the guise of the queen, subtly trying to figure out his motives, or she could just outright question him, reasoning that he’s not going to do anything to her since she’s needed alive (to which Maul could refuse to give up anything and instead easily threaten her once he decides she’s gotten too comfortable, maybe even giving us some visual foreshadowing/parallels to Anakin in Revenge of the Sith by using the Force to hold her by the throat and remind her that she need only arrive to Naboo alive, not unscathed.).

Have the Theed city battle happen as Act II, show more of the Separatists’ effect on the people they’re subjugating, and have Anakin involved on the ground instead of in the gunship. He ends up seeing/being involved in the Duel of the Fates, exhibiting an impressive display of the Force and throwing up a force field that blocks what would have been a fatal hit from Maul against the two Jedi. Anakin uses the Force to fling Darth Maul back, though it’s not enough to get him off his feet. Maul’s distracted for just a moment as his boots gain traction and he skids to a halt, locking eyes with the kid before he uses the Force to throw Anakin into the path of danger as Qui-Gon approaches. Obi-Wan diverts course to save Anakin and gets him out of the way, telling him to stay back as Maul continues to fight Qui-Gon. Anakin ends up separated when Obi-Wan jams the control for the force field corridor, cutting him off from the fight as Kenobi and Qui-Gon back Maul towards the reactor shaft together.

Anakin surveys the hangar and starts to climb up to the access catwalks overhead, trying to get to the Jedi to help, but as he finally reaches a position overlooking the room he realizes he’s too late. Darth Maul hits Qui-Gon and stabs him through the chest as Kenobi screams. This time however, Kenobi isn’t fast enough in the aftermath to do anything beyond wounding Maul, and when Maul is nearly hit by Anakin doing the equivalent of throwing a ship at him, he escapes.

Kenobi’s and Anakin’s shared story with Qui-Gon comes to a close as Qui-Gon dies and Kenobi tells Anakin he’ll apprentice him instead, and that he has strong evidence for the council that Anakin is the Chosen One. Cut back to Sabé relaying to Amidala through covert means that the dark warrior isn’t acting alone; he’s taking orders from somebody he calls Master, and even if he is killed, it’s likely he’s not the only one directing the war from the shadows. Have the Separatists win the battle and Naboo seemingly come under their control, the treaty signed by Sabé (the Separatists still unaware she’s a decoy).

Maul makes a break for it to head back to Coruscant, for the moment incapacitated and in no condition to fight Kenobi and Anakin together. Kenobi may be alive, but Maul’s mission to make sure the Separatists took Naboo and that the queen signed the treaty is complete, and he tells Sidious over a holocall that there’s a child with Kenobi who is strong in the Force and could be a threat to them…. Unless he can be turned to the dark side.

Kenobi and Anakin sneak around and meet up with Amidala and her remaining entourage and tell her that she has to come back to Coruscant with them because only her presence there while Sabé remains behind (never leaving the Separatists’ watch) will be what shows the Senate that the treaty is void. They scheme to go back to Coruscant with the still-undiscovered true queen; Amidala uses the handmaidens to disperse the message and ready an ambush with the help of Ahmed Best’s character and countrymen, telling those who remain behind not to fight back yet but to comply with the Separatists until she can provide the Senate with the proof of the truth.

The three of them with Amidala’s retinue return in stealth to Coruscant. Keep Amidala from telling Palpatine anything because maybe he was just as complacent as the rest of the senators who didn’t believe her when she voiced concerns of the Separatists setting up an invasion of the planet prior to the movie. Kenobi enlists the help of the council members, telling them what truly happened and that a Sith is behind the Separatists’ machinations, and they also provide video footage of the carnage they saw levied against the people of Theed. The council prompts Senator Organa to bring up the Naboo treaty during the Senate session. The Senate pulls up a holovid conference call with the Separatists and remaining Naboo politicians, Sabé among them, the Separatists showing their “proof” of being able to reach a “peaceful accord.”

And THEN Padmé Amidala steps forward in the Senate to reveal her true identity and the plot the Separatists had the whole time forcing who they thought was the queen to sign the treaty under extreme duress while their people died in the streets and countryside. There’s a collective gasp as her witnesses, including Obi-Wan, come forward with evidence to the veracity of that statement, and the Senate erupts in an uproar as the Separatists flounder on the call, having been caught in the act in front of an audience of thousands.

The holocall is cut short as we the audience see the handmaidens, the remaining guards, and Ahmed Best’s character and his people back on Naboo spring the ambush on the Separatists in the palace, and we see the tide change as the people of Naboo fight back together. Valorum tries to keep order but the longer he goes without taking decisive action the worse he starts to look, and Palpatine quickly steps in to propose a vote of no confidence against him— If Valorum isn’t willing to send arms and support to a pacifist planet clearly under military attack right now, what’s to say he’ll ever do it for anybody else there among them? At what point is it considered an act of war against the Republic, if not now? The people of the Senate begin to concur and Republic forces quickly rally support for Naboo, senators from neighboring planets ordering their fleets to converge on Naboo to lend aid and route the fleeing Separatists as an emergency meeting is called to force Chancellor Valorum to step down.

(Palpatine meanwhile is absolutely seething behind his fake shock and horror, and as soon as he’s able to reconvene out of the Senate chamber he comms Darth Maul like “YOU ABSOLUTE #!$%*&@ IDIOT YOU GOT THE WRONG GIRL”)

Maul’s coming to several conclusions at once with a metric ton of dread flash-fried by anger and they both know they can’t do anything to Amidala OR the politicians back home on Naboo while all eyes are turned that way, BUT Maul realizes that this was all Kenobi’s fault and— probably knowing Palpatine's going to wring his neck if he ever gets his hands on him— he goes rogue in order to get his revenge against Kenobi and try to preserve his standing with his master. The climax of Act III comes down to a much more publicly visible and hard-hitting fight between Darth Maul and Kenobi before Anakin (who’s been with Obi-Wan the whole time and was supposed to be in hiding) uses the Force again to shield Obi-Wan right as it looks like Darth Maul is about to strike the killing blow. Maul’s saber bounces off the shield and in shock he turns to see Anakin, who he recognizes as the kid from the Theed palace who thwarted him then too. Obi-Wan shouts “No!” as Maul charges, and Anakin scrambles away and throws up a shield in front of himself that Maul strikes once, twice, a third time before it shatters, each side of the Force colliding, causing an explosive blast that takes out half of the tower floor with it and renders Anakin unconscious.

Just as Maul rears back to kill Anakin, his saber meets that of Obi-Wan’s, and Obi-Wan pushes him back, determined and revitalized.

The fight ends dramatically on top of one of the skywalks of Coruscant, Jedi and Sith locked in battle as word quickly starts to travel and people start racing up to the tower. Obi-Wan succeeds in cutting Maul’s saber apart before ultimately stabbing him just as Maul had done to Qui-Gon, sending him off the overbridge to his death.

Naboo is shown winning against the invasion thanks to help from the Republic, and the people of Theed and the surrounding forests are saved. Ahmed Best’s character and Sabé are both hailed as victors, the two of them standing united with their people together after a successful ambush and reclamation of Naboo. Kenobi’s a veritable hero, receiving praise from both politicians and Jedi for discovering and eliminating the Sith. The Jedi council manages to frame Maul’s presence as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan “mission” this whole time, and Kenobi’s valor and strategy award him the rank of Knight. The council is still wary of Anakin, but he’s been shown to have had a surprising awareness and command of the Force, and if he’s capable of that without training, they can’t let him continue to live as a civilian with that amount of power unchecked, agreeing that the boy needs supervision, guidance, and accountability. It doesn’t help that Obi-Wan’s determined to keep Anakin as his Padawan now, especially since training him was Qui-Gon’s dying wish.

Sidious manages to frame Maul for the loss of Naboo to the Separatists, telling them that he has been “dealt with.” Though Darth Maul is defeated and the public’s faith in the Jedi remains intact, the Jedi council is deeply troubled by the apparent return of the Sith, and they confer with Kenobi, Anakin, Sabé and Amidala (who are unfortunately accompanied by Senator Palpatine) about what knowledge they have, knowing they need to keep word of a potential second Sith under wraps for the public’s well-being and peace of mind. The fact the Separatists have been revealed to have massive covert operations taking over smaller planets with the aid of droid armies for a while now is shocking enough as it is; they can’t afford widespread panic over the possibility of this being orchestrated by a Sith, let alone more than one.

The result of those decisions, as well as the very public fight Kenobi had with Maul, means that the Jedi are now inextricably bound to serve in the war, still unsure of how they couldn’t have sensed the Sith to begin with, and it sets up Kenobi to wonder if perhaps the Jedi involvement in the war and their deaths at the end of it are his fault for being too rash and ready to fight. It’ll drive his character to mature and become more of a negotiator, and try to keep Anakin from choosing to act without thinking moving forward. Though both Kenobi and Amidala have saved people in this movie, it was done through actions that forced them to compromise their anti-war ideologies, and those irreversible actions will directly lead people who were once pacifists and protectors into war.

That plotline forces the characters together more organically and still covers the same amount of ground and achieves the same result, but utilizes the characters better and creates more of a sense of urgency than before. The consequence of these changes is that Palpatine will later ascend as Supreme Chancellor with sympathy from a majority of the Senate, meaning the Grand Army of the Republic is formed between this movie and the next, setting up Attack of the Clones to be happening in the midst of the war. Sidious has contingency plans upon contingency plans; he still has Count Dooku in his back pocket, still has the Separatists on his side, and now he has his sights set on the young prodigy from Tatooine who seems verrrrrryy interesting to him. He can misdirect the Jedi’s suspicions of Sith towards Dooku and General Grievous, should they end up being discovered, still keeping all eyes off of himself. Palpatine also has a much stronger motivation to assassinate Amidala after this since she’s proven to be more capable than he realized and isn’t just a political pawn he can manipulate. She’s unpredictable, and she needs to be eliminated.

[lovebugism]

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

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They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. 

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems. 

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore. 

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you. 

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough.  You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against. 

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles). 

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into. 

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary. 

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you. 

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”  

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her. 

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips. 

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means. 

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you. 

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds. 

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about. 

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place. 

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right. 

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week. 

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now. 

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie. 

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you. 

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call. 

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.” 

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting. 

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer. 

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way. 

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye. 

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm. 

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing. 

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college. 

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs. 

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

 Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be. 

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching. 

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully. 

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease. 

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago. 

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need. 

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret. 

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure. 

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?” 

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading —  and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly. 

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious. 

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for. 

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry. 

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you. 

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him. 

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him. 

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so. 

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes. 

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you. 

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats. 

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling. 

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day. 

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down. 

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone. 

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him. 

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold. 

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler. 

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock. 

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.” 

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time.  “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are. 

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were. 

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?” 

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so. 

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.” 

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost. 

But it’s happened before. 

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight. 

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise. 

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak. 

You want him. 

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

[babyleostuff]

i love love love the clingy fic. do you think you’d be open to making one for all the members?

seventeen being clingy with their s/o | ot13

thank you so much for this request! I turned it into a headcanon, so I hope you won't mind it.

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: blue hour by txt

side note: the length of each member's headcanon has nothing to do with who I like more or less

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

okay, we all know that Seungcheol is the president™ of clinginess 

hand holding, hugs, cuddles, kisses, head pats, you name it 

he would have no problem stopping whatever he was doing just to give you a hug 

btw, his hugs must be the best (silently crying in the corner)

they make you feel so safe and fluffy 

would sometimes tease you for your clinginess, but then you can just say “no cuddles tonight” and he’ll be apologizing on his knees

morning and goodnight kisses are mandatory, and there is a big chance he’ll get pouty and sulky if he doesn’t get one 

wouldn’t mind a clingy and affectionate significant other whatsoever 

and if you weren’t a person that liked physical touch, he would respect that 100%

nonetheless, would slowly but surely try to warm you up to the idea 

I think cuddling him would be one of the best ways to comfort him in any situation 

simply holding him tightly and stroking his hair 

he would love if you’d poke his dimples (it only makes him smile even wider) 

I think he’d love the idea of cuddling with you before sleep, but somehow would end up on the other side of the bed, in the weirdest position in the morning 

would also love when you’d fall asleep in his arms during a movie night, for example 

it makes him so so happy, and he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world (because you are) 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ YOON JEONGHAN 

another very cuddly and affectionate member 

I think he is more low key than Cheol though

he loves the quiet and intimate aspects of physical touch

definitely holds your hand in public, especially when there are a lot of people 

loves laying and napping on your lap, while you play with his hair 

there is a 90% chance that he has his head on your shoulder whenever you are sitting next to each other 

plays a lot with you hands too (you’re basically his fidget toy) 

loves the quiet nights when there is only the two of you, when he can you full out with his clinginess 

if you’re in the kitchen doing whatever you can bet he’ll stick to you and follow you everywhere 

has the biggest heart eyes and a soft smile whenever looking at you 

will definitely tease you from time to time, but we all know he loves when you smother him with love 

maybe not the BIGGEST fan of PDA, but would definitely not shy away from showing his affection around the boys

if they have a problem they can leave = Jeonghan’s mindset 

strives for forehead kisses, they make him so soft and appreciated 

just give him all the love he deserves 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ HONG JOSHUA 

HUSBAND MATERIAL RIGHT HERE

so so so soft 

very low key with his affections, might not be all over you, but is always right by your side 

always has a hand around your waist when you’re at big gatherings and never lets you go in a big crowd of people 

the main hand holder in seventeen, and I’m going to stand by that 

sitting down? holding hands. waiting in a line? holding hands. going on a walk? holding hands. 

gives the softest, most reassuring hugs known to mankind 

generally, he’s very soft and his aura just radiates with love and reassurance, so there is not a single moment in your relationship where he lets you doubt yourself

head pats specialist - you can do the smallest, most insignificant thing and he’ll still pat your head lovingly with a soft smile 

even though he is not that into physical touch, he’ll never decline your hugs, kisses or cuddles 

I don’t think he would tease you that much, but sometimes might find it amusing how clingy you get (sometimes he jokingly avoids your kisses just to see you sulk until he doesn’t burst out laughing and give you tons of kisses in apologies) 

expresses his affection through actions, is always there for you

sometimes you don’t even have to ask him for help - he just knows and is there right by you in a second 

such a attentive listener, you could be rambling about the most random thing and he’ll still look at as if nothing else existed in the world 

everyone can see how in love he is, simply by the way he looks at you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WEN JUNHUI 

on the first glance may not seem like it, but he gets clingy more often than you’d think 

he loves giving back hugs, just clinging onto you, while you do your thing 

nuzzling his head in your neck has become a big habit for him (and overall, a BIG fan of neck kisses)

now he’s a menace, so beware, he will tease you 

but it is all out of love, he would never seriously decline your affection

sometimes, he’d just come up to you and stand there waiting for kisses 

will lay in your lap after a tiring day, and not get up, no matter how badly you need to go to the bathroom 

would hug you for the longest time if he’d see you’re upset or anxious 

is very gentle, but sometimes underestimates his own strength, which ends up with you laying on the floor 

once, he lost you in a big crowd, and since then he has always an arm wrapped around you or at least is holding your hand 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KWON SOONYOUNG 

tiger who? more like a koala 

will cling to you 24/7 

ESPECIALLY when he’s drunk, he will hold onto you for dear life

comes up with the most random, weird and cliche nicknames for you, and will use it in the presence of other people 

sometimes his love can get a bit aggressive, especially if he’s full of energy (but would never do anything to hurt you) 

can get super cheesy, to the point where you have to shut him up 

sometimes he’s just too cute for you too handle, so you’d have no other choice then give him kisses all over his face

which he likes A LOT 

sometimes, to tease you, he’d act like he doesn’t notice your affection and clinginess, just to tackle you in a hug a second later 

this man WILL BLUSH, and you use that fact a lot to your own advantage (usually when you’re with the boys, just to mess with him)

expects a good morning kiss, because he swears he’s days are always better when you kiss him in the morning 

pouts if you let go of his hand, and he will in fact let you know, that he’s upset 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO

(this man is going to be the death of me)

at first very very shy with affection, but as he gets more and more comfortable you’ll get to see a whole another side of him 

definitely not the biggest on PDA, even in front of the boys 

but I can guarantee you, he’ll always be touching in some way when you’re in public 

whether it’ll be linked pinkies, holding hands, a strong arm around your waist or just simply standing very very close to you

he’ll never kiss you around the boys, but he will not shy away from pecking your forehead or giving quick cheek kisses 

look like he hates when you cuddle into him, but on the inside he’s freaking out from how cute and adorable you are 

also whenever you show him any type of affection it makes him feel so loved and appreciated (so please give him all the affection he deserves) 

sometimes will come up from behind, give you a quick hug, and leave as if nothing just happened 

loves loves loves to cuddle when you’re reading, it’s usually him initiating the affection in situations like these 

it’s just his silent way of showing you his love

okay, I know that this is so basic and cliche, BUT 

cuddling him while he’s gaming (can you just imagine sitting in his lap, watching him doing what he loves, giving him kisses and cheering whenever he wins) 

I can already see his shy smile after you press a sweet kiss on his lips after he wins a battle or something 

sometimes if you’re being too clingy, he’ll just send you a side eye and sigh, but not stop you at all 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ LEE JIHOON

now, we know that this man is not a fan of physical touch 

and he still isn’t, except when the affection comes from you 

he has came to terms with the fact that you’ll never stop hugging him, simply accepting his destiny 

definitely will let you know if it gets too much, but he tries to be more open minded when it comes to you 

over the time spend with you, he’d notice the small acts of yours, that he’d miss when you weren't around, like gently holding his hand 

he’d notice, that from time to time he’d feel like something’s missing 

and it’d turn out that he just misses you holding his hand

will link pinkies in public, but that’s the furthest he will go (he’d never leave your side though, he’s always there to keep an eye on you) 

if he’s really tired, he will come up to you without saying a word and lay in your lap

gets so happy if you play with his hair then (would never admit this to you) 

is so grateful to you that you respect his boundaries 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ XU MINGHAO 

*sigh*

when it comes to Hao, I think he’s a bit similar to Wonwoo, in the sense that in the beginning of you relationship he would be more closed off and shy 

but as the time goes, he’d open more and more up

his affection would come in waves - he’d have days where he’d need to be left alone (always tells you this, as not to cause any miscommunication) and on others he’d smother you with love 

he is very gentle with giving and showing affection, will always hold you in a delicate way 

big fan of hand holding and head pats, as well as just simply being next to you 

your presence in general is very comforting and calming to him, you know each other so well, that sometimes no words are needed to know how the other person is feeling 

he always checks up on you during any parties or gatherings, if your having fun or if no one is making you uncomfortable (will fight if someone is mean to you) 

loves whenever you put your head on his shoulder, his heart will probably beat a little faster 

also loves when you cling to him in search of comfort, he’s the happiest knowing that he can be a safe place for you

not the biggest fan of cuddling while sleeping (he needs his space), but will always cuddle before, catching up on what he’d missed from your day 

sometimes, you’re just so cute to him that he can’t contain his giggles 

then you’re like (•ิ_•ิ) what did I do? 

but then, I’m the biggest believer in a tired, clingy Minghao (u cannot tell me that this man wouldn't cling to you like a koala, while being already half asleep)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 

is there even a point of saying anything about this man? 

cuddles, kisses, hugs, hand holding, playing with each others’ hair, resting his arm on you, WITH THIS MAN YOU GET A WHOLE PACKAGE 

definitely one of the most clingy, cuddly and affectionate members (nothing knew) 

I mean, he would drop everything and run to cuddle with you 

never leaves your side, follows you around everywhere, and will DEFINITELY always be touching you in some way 

a hand holding yours, on your thigh, around your shoulder, around your waist, THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS 

unsurprisingly his hugs would solve like 99 of your problems, it’s like they heave some kind of healing properties 

would confidently sulk and pout if you’d reject any of affections, acting like a five year old until you didn’t apologize with tons of kisses and at least an hour of cuddling him 

usually is the big spoon, loves the feeling of having you wrapped up in his strong arms

on occasions, especially when he’s having a hard time, he’ll want to be the little spoon and would not shy away from it 

sometimes you have to remind him that he’s like ten times bigger than you, so throwing himself at you is not a good idea

but, the thing with this menace is that he will tease you

there are times when you’re just so done with him and leave him alone on the couch (which is not that fun for him anymore) 

BACK HUGS !!!

would do it 24/7 if he could, also loves it when you back hug him as well 

(If I don’t get a Kim Mingyu, I don’t want him) 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ LEE SEOKMIN 

you become a giggly mess in each others’ presence 

sometimes, you’d do the annoying “couple stuff”, just to piss of others (insert: Seungkwan’s side eye)

He will return every affection that you give him - you kiss him? He kisses you back. You hug him? He hugs you back

you’re just going back and forth, never getting tired of each other 

when you’re out together, YOU’RE TOGETHER 

you two are connected by the hip, seeing you apart for more than five minutes is almost impossible 

likes to hold your hand, and sway it back and forth like a kid when you’re walking 

a fan of giving and receiving sweet kisses on the forehead (it makes him so smiley and warm inside, give him all the kisses) 

seeing you being so open with your affection towards him, makes him so happy - it’s a reassurance for him, that he’s being a good boyfriend 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ BOO SEUNGKWAN 

now this drama queen 

in the beginning of your relationship he would scoff at you whenever you initiated any physical contact, which made you think that he didn’t like it 

after some time, when he asked you why you’d stopped hugging and kissing him, you explained how he’d react in those situations 

was so angry and disappointed with himself and since then he would never complain about any of your affection 

it’s not that he disliked it, on the contrary - he loved it, he was just being a dramatic ass and trying to be funny 

as your relationship progresses the drama in him doesn't stop though - if you let go of his hand or refuse a kiss, he’ll throw a tantrum and make it appear as if it was one of the biggest problems in his life 

he could be arguing with Soonyoung and screaming his head off, but the second he heard your voice he’d turn into the biggest softie 

in general, he is the biggest baby when he’s with you 

loves loves hugs, could hug you all day if he could 

also kisses (cheek kisses especially), makes him so incredibly soft and mushy ♥‿♥

gets shy in public, but never lets go of your hand (I think he needs you more, than you need him) 

also, has the biggest heart eyes for you, and you only 

gets so happy when you comfort and reassure him through physical touch, there is nothing better than a cuddle or a hug from the person you love the most 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 

(I’m so sorry, but the only thing I see when I think of Vernon is his NPC walk)

would just let you do whatever to him, and he wouldn’t even bat an eye 

although he is one of the least affectionate member, he wouldn’t mind your clinginess AT ALL 

it makes him so reassured that even though he’s not the best with expressing his love through physical touch, you don’t mind it at all 

the only time he’ll refuse your cuddles is when sleeping (WE ALL KNOW HOW HE SLEEPS, THERE IS NO WAY HE’D CUDDLE YOU) 

his way of showing you affection is calling you bro and dude 

sometimes you’re like (¬_¬) seriously? 

likes to be near you wherever you are - even if there is no more space on the couch, trust me, he’ll squeeze himself in there 

when he laughs, there is a big chance he’ll lean on you or even hide his face in your lap 

movie nights often ends up in cuddle sessions and since clingy Vernon is rare, those moments are even more special 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ LEE CHAN 

MY BABY 

the softest, most precious human being out there 

loves all the affection, whatever it is, he’ll accept it with open arms

kiss him, hug him, cuddle him PLEASE, he adores all of it 

would not tease you that much, scared that accidentally you’ll think that it annoys him and you’ll stop, which is like the last thing he’d like 

we all know that he’d baby you, and would not be ashamed to do so 

for once he wants to feel like the strong man that he is, so please let him open the jars for you

will protect you 24/7 (we stan a short, but confident king) 

so sweet and careful with you

not afraid to hold your hand in public, sometimes when feeling bold will even peck your forehead

speaking of, I think it would send Chan into a coma anytime you’d peck his forehead or cheek 

gets all smiley when you hug him, especially from behind (overall, he can never seem to stop smiling when he’s with you) 

kisses with him are so playful and sweet 

I’m also sure when you’re alone he’d be all over you, cuddles during movie nights are A MUST, otherwise you’ll end up with a pouty boyfriend 

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

dating headcanons

main 4 + butters

— ♡

stan

— definitely the type to bully you but loves you to death

— constantly posting you on social media

— you need him? he’s already there actually he’s been hiding in your walls

— gets super in his head a lot, requires a lot of reassurance & affection

— SUPER FUCKING PROTECTIVE

— some dude’s making you uncomfortable? his hand’s on your shoulder and he’s ready to beat the shit out of him

— the silent but deadly type

— basically no one fucks w his s/o

— but super duper soft

— sticky as fuck

— you thought kenny was a physical touch kinda guy? stan is 10 times worse

— constantly holding your hand or lacing your pinkies together

— prefers quiet nights in over nights out 100%

— movie nights are his absolute fav he loves the cliche holding hands in popcorn thing

— a bit of an alcoholic but never an angry drunk, he’ll be constantly up your ass blubbering about how much he loves you

— “your eyes are so pretty and your face is so pretty and i love your hair like that and how do you smell so good”

kyle

— if he were an anime character he’d be a tsundere for sure

— dislikes pda but in private he has no problem being affectionate

— is super awkward around you, doesn’t really know how to talk to you or how to act

— also prefers quiet nights in but in a totally different way

— would much rather read a book with your legs in his lap than watch a movie

— one phone call away tho don’t get him wrong

— if you need him he’s immediately on his way no questions asked

— very very very very protective

— also the type to hover behind you but the second you give him the go ahead he’s running his mouth

— all bark but also a super gnarly bite

— also super jealous and kind of insecure

— you’re his first real relationship so he’s always scared someone’s gonna steal you away

— the type to give you massages and ask you about your day

— domestic housewife fs, always cooking for you and making sure your house is clean

— always leaves sweet notes for you to wake up to but will never acknowledge them

— overall such a sweetheart, would do anything for you but is a stickler on saying the l word

— thinks it loses its sparkle if it’s said too much

kenny

— sticky horny bastard

— always cuddled up to you or holding your hand or kissing you

— big fan of pda

— if he’s not touching you and he’s in your presence someone’s getting hurt

— loves partying but also loves quality time with you

— would totally go out if you wanted but also would curl up in bed with you if you weren’t feeling it

— always eager to please you

— he’s like a dog, at your beck and call, awaiting your orders

— but don’t touch his s/o or he’ll go nuts

�� not really the jealous type but definitely the possessive type

— like he doesn’t get worked up about someone hitting on you, he knows you’re fine as fuck, but the second someone tries to touch you his arms are around you and he’s kissing you

— very much a gentleman

— he makes very misogynistic comments about your body but ultimately you’re a queen and you should never have to lift a finger

— always worshipping the ground you walk on

— definitely a stoner

— giggles at everything you do when he’s high and 100% smokes you out every chance he gets

— he just loves you so much he’d literally combust

eric

— isn’t really one for affection, private or public

— definitely runs his mouth to you

— but the second you get upset he’s crying begging you to stop being mad rubbing your feet

— a messy bitch for sure

— always stirring up drama in the friend group and sitting back watching it all go down with you

— would definitely scheme with you about starting beef

— views you as his queen but treats you as an equal (which is huge for him because everyone is below him)

— hates seeing you cry and would easily tell off whichever son of a bitch did it

— but also wouldn’t hesitate to bully you to the verge of tears

— makes up for it by offering you some of his cheesy poofs

— unspoken acts of affection for sure

— hates going out

— he’d much rather watch a comedy movie and shit on the plot with you

— the type to act like he hates you around his friends but the second you’re in a private setting he’s reminding you that he loves you

— possessive, jealous, protective, the big 3

— kind of like a chihuahua, all bark no bite

— probably also low key an alcoholic but never drunk to the point of being a lovey dovey bitch

butters

— the sweetest boyfriend ever

— panics every time you cry or are upset in any way

— even if he’s grounded he’ll still find a way to talk to you

— if there’s a screen there’s a way

— doesn’t really fall into any category

— kind of just exists, way too happy that you’re dating him to notice anything else

— the type to post you on every social media platform he has

— would shout from the rooftops about how much he loves you

— very acts of service

— would do anything you asked as long as you were happy

— gives you back rubs every night

— sleeps with his head on your chest because he loves to listen to your heartbeat

— physical touch too

— loves holding your hand and caressing your cheeks

— stares at you for hours like “wow i can’t believe my s/o is this perfect”

— makes sure your needs are taken care of before his

— constantly texting you to remind you that he loves you and that you’re perfect in every way

— good morning and goodnight paragraphs even if you live together

— loves you to the moon and back and wants everyone to know it

[temis-de-leon]

Please make sure to take care of yourself 🥺 Write whenever you feel like it and when you have the time but don't force yourself to write 😤 - Romance Anon

Crush hugging him because of a horror movie - 500 F.C.

Characters: Diavolo x gn!reader

Main Masterlist

500 followers masterlist

Requested by: Romance anon

A/N: Toni Colette, the woman that you are. And thank you Romance, for your never-ending patience <3

C/W: a bit suggestive there at the beginning, pinning, very vague description of Hereditary's ending

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He would be lying if he said having you so close to him, practically sitting on his lap, while moaning a myriad of ‘oh my God’, ‘please, God’ and, his personal favourite, ‘Dia, Dia, Dia…!’ wasn’t affecting him in the slightest. It was, and heavily; he just wished it took place under different circumstances.

Mainly because he was low-key freaking out too, although not as much as you.

Having seen a fair number of sinners, he knew some mortal minds weren’t simple or kind, which made the darkness of life and the suffering of others a rather pleasurable affair for them. It was fascinating, apparently, a broadly studied aspect of human society, and not just one of many media genres, that propelled the pharmaceutical and therapeutic intervention businesses; a cause and a consequence, something that should’ve been avoided or couldn’t have been helped.

And yet, out of all horrors, you chose a demonic possession movie? Were you trying to tease him?

Paimon wasn’t even that bad once you got the chance to meet him properly! He was an erudite whose knowledge covered all the arts, philosophy and science. A friend of Lucifer’s, keen on reciprocity foremost and eager to start a conversation with anyone who offered him the same amount of time and interest as he did. Unfortunately, Diavolo had the tiny suspicion you wouldn’t be in the mood to meet the captivating demon, nor his demanding dromedary, after watching the disturbing movie, but you should really give it a try!

He could still understand you, though.

“Oh, dear” he said in a quiet breath as the boy on the screen slowly turned around and miraculously missed his mother crawling on the walls.

Your eyes, which had been previously peeking between your fingers, closed shut. You turned to press your face against his chest again and he deeply hoped your fear kept you from noticing the rapid beating of his heart and the way his hand closed around your waist to bring you closer. His cheeks burned, not bothering to hide an enamoured smile. There was no use in doing so when you were trying so hard to disappear from the world amongst the creases of his uniform.

Still, you had asked him to watch the film together and he would be more than damned if he disappointed you in such a trivial matter, so he forced himself to look at the screen intensely, even when a naked man loomed from the shadows and the boy had to run away for his life, tripping and falling and barely climbing to the attic on time.

“I have to say, MC” he mustered, eyes open wide as the woman (Annie?) violently banged her head against the trap door while Peter cried in desperation from the other side. “I can’t understand the appeal of watching this. When you said you wanted a movie night, I thought you’d choose something… tamer”

More romantic is what he wanted to say. Diavolo had hoped to understand love from a human standpoint and see what you liked in order to do the same. Rose petals and champagne by the fireplace? Or shopping and dining in the most expensive places in the Devildom? Dancing in the rain? Stargazing? As observant as he was, he had no clue whether you reciprocated his infatuation, so, sadly, he preferred having your full attention on him whenever he showed his feelings; and at that moment not even an emergency would’ve made you let go of his embrace. It's not like he would ever complain about that, anyway.

“I didn’t want to watch the movie alone” you finally whimpered, letting go only enough to look up at him. “And I figured if someone could make me feel protected it would be you”

Your glassy eyes vaguely reflected his speechless expression and, suddenly, he was aware of everything. The weight of your body against his, bringing warmth and comfort, the smell of your clothes and the softness of your skin; your scared pouting and embarrassed blushing. Not knowing what to do with it anymore, he let his free hand awkwardly drop over your calves and immediately almost imploded when you instinctively tucked even closer.

There was no noise for a blissful moment, save for the heavy breathing and the buzzing coming from the speakers, and Diavolo briefly asked himself if a horror movie was still a good background for a love confession.

Then, a wet sound; a sawing motion.

You slowly turned to the gigantic TV, impending doom in your expression quickly morphing into heavy distress when the mother appeared once more on the screen. Your appalled scream almost made him cover his ears before you hid your face in his chest one final time.

“OH MY GOD, DIA, OH MY GOD”

Diavolo just hoped Barbatos wouldn’t ask any questions in the morning.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom