#and then mike had to be stupid and encourage him to dance with some girl

[bylerisc4non]

it's the fact that it transitions from will dancing with joyce, camera closing in on just joyce (his dance partner), then transitioning to mike getting his picture taken lol.

we know who you were thinking about dancing with william.

[okaybutlikeimagine]

A Father’s Day Triptych

TW: past/referenced child abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, child neglect

(you can find it on AO3 here ♥)

Father’s day in the Hargrove household was always pulled taut with expectations of kindness and submission hanging over Billy’s head.

They didn’t always used to be that way. When he was a kid, Father’s days felt like a reprieve rather than a burden. Billy and his mom would prepare special things- a nice card that would make him laugh, those new fishing poles he’d been eyeing in the big sporting store a town over, a pretty cake with fresh fruit on top from the grocer down the way. His mother went all out. She’d get Billy all excited for it too. The strenuous relationships were softened for a day where they did everything they could to make him happy.

They really did… everything they could just to make him happy. Sometimes Billy still wonders why it had to take so much.

Around Father’s day, his mother would use all her spending money to make his father smile. It usually worked. And for that day, it was so good. It could hardly get better. Grilling and watching stupid baseball games Billy never cared about but would pretend to be interested in, just for him. Fake smiles almost became real. Hot dogs and hamburgers and watermelon always tasted better on those days when his father would put his arm around Billy amicably- when he would laugh at the card and compliment how Billy’s penmanship was getting better every year.

The year that she left was the worst.

The year that she left Billy stopped getting an allowance. He had no money to soften the edges of his father with fresh cakes and fancy presents. He panicked. He stole a stupid fishing keychain from a store and made a card from his school notebook paper. He presented them with shaking hands to his father who seemed glued to the couch, eyes bloodshot, surrounded by beer cans, baseball game so loud Billy’s ears felt sore.

He got a grunt and a lazy eye roll in response. A slurred groan of “your writing is sloppy”. A quieter admission of regret.

He got resentment. Billy was 9 and he knew it was resentment towards his very existence. He slid away to his room. There was no dinner to eat that night as his father passed out on the couch with the TV still on far too loud.

When Susan and Max came into the picture, Billy miraculously found a reason to be happy for it. Suddenly there was pressure taken off of him. He let Max know it too, as Susan encouraged them to go out and “at least get him a card”. They’d lazily look through all the forcibly funny and generic pieces of paper. Max was nervous that first year.

“It’s whatever.” Billy had grunted, looking through ugly green cards with stupid phrases on them. “She’s gonna bang him tonight, he won’t care about a dumb card.”

“Ew.” Max had whined, covering her ears and pouting. Billy couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It was never fun. Billy felt like he was on a leash all day long, obligated to do everything he could for his father just to keep him civil. Susan made a steak, the kids handed over the card, his father remarked how his penmanship was the mark of someone lazy and sloppy (no matter how hard Billy would try to make it as neat as he possibly could), and the day would end. And he could stop thinking about how this man still had a hand in his life.

…

Father’s day in the Hopper household was always bumbling and awkward.

By the time that first one came around, Billy was just beginning to feel less like a burden to the house and more like an addition. He’d found comfort in the space they all shared. They had a sort of routine set between all of them. There was still no second bed for Billy, so he still felt like he was imposing when Hop slept on the couch, but it was a sort of pull out couch by that point and Hop insisted and Billy decided not to pay it too much mind.

And that first Father’s day was just… awkward. Billy had completely forgotten the date- summer had just started for him and days were rolling by in hot and languid and lazy moments of feeling out every new situation. He had just started getting really serious with Steve. Not just touching for the sake of getting off but really starting to need and want each other in ways that scared him. In ways that made him want to keep things how they were- ways that made him scared to change a thing. It was a new and alien feeling for him.

El had inadvertently learned about Father’s day from Mike when he briefly groaned about dinner plans his family had. Billy found that out from El on their drive to the store to pick something up for Hop. She had to convince Billy it was a thing they should do, because Hopper was their father. He did fatherly things for them. He took them in and gave them a roof and food and asked how their days were and wished them goodnight and good morning, however groggily. He made stupid jokes that made them moan and he danced horribly to the old records he kept on their dusty shelf and he was horrible with laundry and he whistled as he did dishes.

He introduced Billy proudly in the grocery store once. It was the weekend after Billy had a really good basketball game that Hop had decided to attend. Hop bragged about it to some friend of his. Billy flushed red and elbowed him and tried his best to escape.

He thought about it every single day.

Billy and El bought a large cheesy balloon, ingredients to make a nice lasagna dinner, and a green and white cake from the bakery. The balloon was more for El. The lasagna was a little burnt. Hop was too nice to say he’d have preferred pie to cake, but he ate it anyway as they sat around the TV and watched whatever program was on. Billy only remembered as he fell slowly into sleep that night. He jolted awake quickly, remembering a sort of far off conversation months ago where Hop had proclaimed confidently that pie was the superior dessert of anything else- yes, even Eggo's with whipped cream and sprinkles. How he admitted cake was never his favorite.

Billy felt shame overcome him as he remembered, pushing himself out of bed and turning to the sofa with the immediate want to apologize for it. He wasn’t sure what came over him.

But instead of sending pleading apologies into the darkness, he just looked towards the sofa with a heavily beating heart and let his eyes adjust. And he thought about all that man had done for the two of them. Thought about how he took in these two stray kids. Thought about how he knew Hop was getting flack for it, because Billy heard the whispers and the snickers and the sneers about Hop running a dog pound. Thought about how he gave up his probably comfier trailer for the rundown cabin, gave up the main bedroom for the dusty spare bed, gave up the dusty spare bed for the couch, gave up parts of his sanity probably…

Billy didn’t wanna apologize anymore. He just whispered a thanks, even though it was hard to push up through his throat and would fall onto sleeping ears.

The Father’s days after that first one got better. They got Joyce, and along with her 2 boys that had their own rocky past with fathers and celebrations of them. Just four kids who feared and resented father figures. It ended up being better than Billy could imagine. It was never quite as awkward as that first Father’s day, but never quite comfortable either. That being said, it was never a bad day. The bar was low, but that didn’t matter. Billy found appreciation for the general ease all the same.

…

Father’s day in the Hargrove-Harrington-”whatever we’re together now and that’s what’s most important” household is filled with guilt and feelings of imposter syndrome.

They don’t celebrate it the first two or so years after they’ve adopted their first child. He’s just a toddler, he doesn’t quite understand yet what it is. And they… they’re still struggling with what it means to be fathers. They’re confident in their rights but they’re not immune to the judgmental voices, always eyeing them oddly when they’re out together with their boy or asking after the mother when they’re out separately. Always looking a little judgmental or harsh when they have to explain why the kid doesn’t look like them- whoever is with him at the time. Or getting looks of pity when the people clearly begin to assume it’s because they couldn’t get pregnant with whatever wife must be at home.

It’s hard to hear. It makes them question everything. If their boy doesn’t know what he’s missing, then there’s no need to explain.

Billy calls Hopper and feels his heart lurch when Hop and Joyce wish him and Steve a happy father’s day. They do it with joy and certainty. As if it belongs to them, too. Billy hangs up the phone and lays in bed for at least half an hour. Steve can’t get through to him.

It’s an odd feeling. A rough feeling. When they adopt their second child, a girl of 9 years old, they know they’re going to have to confront it. Their son begins school that year too. They find out about the day from their friends and television ads and store windows. The children are timid with them- they were adopted as supposed “problem children” from rough homes and tumultuous pasts. Billy and Steve don’t expect anything of them but they’re still not sure how to explain that. They figure ignoring is easier than explaining. Maybe it’ll make it go away.

It doesn’t work well.

And Billy… Billy’s just struggling being a dad. He couldn’t explain the job if he tried. He helps make lunches, he gives timeouts, he buys and subsequently sneaks himself some silly little snack foods when he’s hungry and busy and doesn’t have time to do more than rip open a pouch. He deals with tantrums over vegetables and he wipes mouths with napkins and he sings lullabies in the wrong key and he reads bedtime stories until he himself dozes off in the tiny bed with a small head on his chest and drool pooling onto his shirt.

He’s trying. He gets frustrated at stores. He gets a little hot headed, a little loud. His heart breaks when they cry. He’s straddling the line between being a pushover and a hard-ass. He lays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, dreading ever becoming like Neil. He asks Steve, in the stillness of the night when the darkness acts as the weight of every horrible outcome imaginable, if he’ll follow Neil’s wretched footsteps.

“You’ll never be like him, Billy.”

“How do you know? What if it’s inside me already.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe it is… maybe I won’t be able to help it.”

He stresses and he struggles and he wants to rip his hair out.

But that first father’s day comes around with their new daughter and newly knowledgeable son. And the two children blunder around the kitchen while their two dads are asleep. And then they wake the two parents up, both teary eyed and breathing heavy, faces full of apology and sorrow, asking for help to clean up the mess.

And Billy and Steve find the kitchen a single step back from full on disaster. There’s juice all over the counter and dripping onto the floor, the cereal box is all soggy from it, the toaster is smoking, a plate is broken on the ground, the fridge is still open. Their daughter pulls on Billy’s pajama pants and holds out her finger that’s bleeding. He gets out of her that she somehow managed to cut it on the butter knife she was using to cut up some fruit.

Steve gets busy cleaning things up. He asks their son to help do smaller things like close the fridge and grab some towels.

Billy takes his daughter’s small soft hand into his large, rough one and plants a kiss on it. It sends something like pure love surging through his heart. He guides her to the bathroom to put a bandaid on it and asks if she’s okay.

“Mmhm.” She nods and his heart softens. She sniffles. “M’sorry. We wanted… wanted to make breakfast and w-wanted to do something nice.”

She sounds like the weight of the world is on her small shoulders. Billy sees himself at 9 years old, doing his damnedest to get anything close to a damn smile out of his father while he sat unresponsive and unamused on the couch.

His heart yearns. It breaks and it pulls and it screams and it shouts. He pulls her in close and hugs her tight and tries to find the right words. Tries to tell her it’s made his entire year. It’s made him feel validated and happy and worth it, like all of that stress is worth it just to know that these two children got up early as hell on a Sunday morning just to surprise their fathers. Just to surprise the two of them. Just to say they thought of them, wanted to give them something, wanted to make them feel special.

“It was nice.” Is all he can croak out through his froggy throat.

“It’s a mess.” She sobs, but he just grips her arms tighter.

“It was wonderful.” He says and he’s crying too. He can’t get the tears to stop. He’s kneeling on the bathroom ground, the two of them crying to each other.

And Billy swears he’ll never get good at the father thing. He has talks with Hop about it, when he’s feeling vulnerable and Hopper’s able to get it out of him. By this point they’ve adopted another child- an older boy, a teenager. He’s rough and he’s jaded. He listens to loud, angry music. He kind of picks on the other two kids, even though he’d jump in front of a bus for either one of them. Hop asks how he likes it.

“He’s a lot like you were, y’know.” Hop tells Billy, who still doesn’t really see it.

Steve doesn’t have as much of a problem with the boy as Billy does. Billy and him just never seem to see eye to eye.

“It’s because you’re the same people.” Hop insists. Steve agrees. Joyce affirms with pity. “You clash.”

They clash hard. They get into yelling matches. Billy never puts a hand on him, but the arguments aren’t exactly great. Billy cries to Steve at night, fear shaking him down to his core, still able to see and hear himself yelling at that boy who fights tooth and nail back with him.

“You’re not a bad person, Billy.”

“Why do I do that shit?” He asks, knowing full well no one but him could ever really know.

It’s not like it’s anything too vitriolic. It’s not like it’s anything really poisonous.

It’s over the fact that he stays out too late at night, and Billy gets worried. It’s the fact that Billy found cigarettes in his room and he knows the bad effects of cigarettes. It’s the fact that he pushed his little brother one day and made him scrape his knee and he needed to learn some boundaries. It’s the fact that he lied about his grades when Billy felt they gave him no reason to do such a thing.

It’s fatherly things. That’s what Hop assures him as Billy cries on the phone with him.

“It’s things I would have done with you.”

Billy never ever knows what to make of that. What to make of what he’d be like now if Hop was his father from the start. If Hop was there from the beginning. If Neil hadn’t made him a monster in his own image.

Billy does his best to get through to him. Get through to his son now because he’s his son now.

Billy feels like the worst, most undeserving father.

As the kids have gotten older, they learned better ways to celebrate father’s day. They learn breakfast in bed isn’t really what the two of them would prefer- a nice lunch and getting to spend some time with them sounds better. A homemade card always goes on the mantle or the fridge with the rest of the collection. A few hugs because those are like treasured gifts in this house with kids who have a history of boundary and trust issues with parental figures.

The older son catches Billy alone in the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Billy replies awkwardly back. The silence is jarring.

“I uh… uhm.” He’s struggling. Billy wants to do something more than just stand here, but he’s not sure what. He doesn’t want to push anything too far. He wants to be good at this.

The boy puts a small, wrapped box on the counter with an envelope underneath and slides it over.

“Happy Father's day.” He mumbles, suddenly fidgeting.

Billy stares at them.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

There’s another pause, heavy with all the weight and worry in Billy’s heart. He reaches for the box, rips the paper open easily, lifts up the lid.

“It’s uh… it’s just a couple tapes of some of those… bands you like. And talk about. All the time.” The boy snickers, but it catches in his throat. He’s so nervous. “My friend’s family was getting rid of a bunch of their tapes and I know you’ve got your old tape player still so… uh… yeah.”

It’s a mixed bag of absolute classics. Some tapes he used to have, others he’s always wanted. Zeppelin, Ted Nugent, Def Leppard, Billy Idol, AC/DC, Alice Cooper… his heart skips. He lost a lot of his tapes after all the sudden moves he’s had to make. His eyes start to well.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Billy pushes out on a whisper.

“Are they any good?”

“They’re… they’re awesome, kid.”

“There’s a card too y’know.” The boy adds, still shuffling nervously.

Billy slips it out from under the box, pulling his finger underneath the flap to open it.

It’s… it’s ridiculous. It’s one of the cheesiest cards Billy’s ever seen. He thinks back to all the stupid, jokey cards he used to pick out with his mother. The joke inside actually makes him laugh, loud and bright.

There’s words written underneath, quite a few scribbled out and then-

Sorry for all the trouble. I think I just don’t like knowing you’re right sometimes… but thank you for everything.

The words are nearly chicken scratch- wobbly letters clearly written with a nervous and shaky hand. The boy is damn near bouncing now, damn near trying to crawl out of his skin with nerves.

It’s the best, prettiest, most wonderful chicken scratch handwriting Billy has ever seen. He can barely see it now through his misty eyes.

“Your… handwriting is really nice.”

The boy scoffs loudly.

“Uh, thanks?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Still, Billy could swear he sees the boy preen, just a little.

“Thank you.” Billy says, fighting back tears, trying like hell to hold himself together. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t… I don’t have to yell at you so much. At all. I’m sorry about it.”

The boy is just staring at him, eyes a little wide and a little shocked. Billy feels his heart lurch. He just wants to be fucking good at this.

“I’m gonna do better.” Billy asserts through a not-so-wobbly-anymore voice

The boy gives a small smile that grows a bit wider. If Billy isn’t absolutely crazy yet, he’d say that the boy’s eyes are getting a bit misty too.

“So are those tapes actually good?” The boy asks, clearing his throat and trying to seem casual. Billy sees more and more of himself in him.

“Hell yeah… do you think I’d have bad taste?”

His son cackles just a bit, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, alright then. Whatever you say.”

There’s a pause. Billy takes the card and tucks it back into the envelope to save for himself- to put in a special place in his and Steve’s room. He then busies himself with shuffling through his tapes before his son says-

“We can… listen to some of them. If you want.”

Billy’s eyes shine with excitement and appreciation.

Listening to the tapes together is wonderful. They rib each other about what songs are better, what voices do and don’t sound the same, what the lyrics are like. They learn more about each other and maybe Billy is finally forced to admit that they’re a lot more alike than he realized.

And Billy starts to feel that maybe… maybe he can finally define what a father really means to him. And father’s days start to feel a bit more like they belong to him, too.

[hournites]

Hands Off the Wheel

Hournite fluff ~ ❤️

~.~ 

When she gets there, Yolanda shoves his bag on the coffee table over to dump her own, giving Rick the boot on the sofa to make room for her. 

“Where’s Beth?” She reaches for the blanket throw, tossing it over her legs and pulls out her phone. 

“Library.” 

Yolanda glances up from her Instagram feed. 

Rick scowls, her unsaid words irritating him. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” 

“You said that yesterday.” 

“I know,” Rick bites out. “I mean it this time.” 

“You can’t hide this forever.”

“I can, actually.” 

Courtney walks in with the cookies from her mom. Yolanda picks a soft one from the corner while Rick scoops up five at once. 

“Are we talking about what I think we’re talking about?” 

“Yes,” Yolanda says at the same time Rick says, “No.” 

The girls share a look. 

Courtney teeters on the arm of the sofa, something she’d been scolded not to do five hundred times by Pat but has yet to listen. “We can help you if you want.” 

Rick stops eating cookies to lick at his chocolate-stained thumb. “How?” 

“Well…” Courtney crosses a leg over the other. “We can drop hints about it, warm her up to the idea…” 

Rick leans back against the sofa and closes his eyes with a soft groan. “You make it sound like it’s something she needs to be warmed up to.” 

“No!” Courtney backtracks when Yolanda lets out a little laugh. 

“No! That’s not what I mean!” 

“It’s what you said, Court.” 

Courtney throws a half-moist cookie at Yolanda, earning a high shriek in response as she wipes chocolate out of her hair. 

Rick lets out a weary sigh, palms still pressed over his eyes. “Maybe I’m overthinking this and it’s just something I’ll get rid of. I don’t need to tell Beth at all. We can forget it ever happened.” 

“Tell me what?” 

They all jump. 

“Jesus!” Rick yelps as his face warms. “How long have you been there?” 

Beth stands in the doorway next to Pat, Chuck perched on top of her coiffed hair. She slides her backpack down her arm to smile confusedly at her friends. “A few seconds?” She looks up at Pat. “My bike had a flat. Pat drove me in.” 

“A flat!?” Courtney exclaims. “Are you okay?” 

“She’s fine,” Pat says, heading into the kitchen for the source of the cookie scent, the plate between the teens empty with crumbs. 

Beth waves off her concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. What does Rick want to tell me?” 

Yolanda looks at Rick who looks at Courtney who looks back at Rick. 

“Um,” he says. 

“He likes your outfit?” Yolanda fills in. She gets up and leaves the awkward room. 

Beth doesn’t buy it, folding her arms over her blue striped blouse. “What’s so odd about that?” 

“Nothing,” Rick reassures her, wiping his sweaty hands against his jeans. “It’s um. Can I talk to you, outside? Alone?” 

Beth tilts her head at him. “...Why?” 

“Because I want to tell you that thing. That I need to tell you.” 

Courtney stares at them, fixated. 

“It’s nothing bad!” she blurts out when Beth catches her eye. 

Her shoulders relax and she agrees, walking back out with Rick. 

“Did I say something to bother you or something or maybe Chuck went out of line? Because obviously I’m missing something and everyone else knows and I get that I usually miss some stuff sometimes but this feels really weird and I’m sorry if I—” 

“I built you a car.” 

Beth blinks. “I beg your pardon?” 

Rick swallows. “A car. I fixed one up for you. I know you didn’t ask but you’ve been studying for your license and then I had a few parts and then a few weeks went by and suddenly I had a Dodge Challenger in my driveway...”

Her expressive eyes are round and wide, Rick can’t tell what she’s thinking when her mouth parts like that. He shifts his weight from one foot to another, trying not to panic. “Look, Beth, I know you didn’t ask for a car, certainly not from me, but it just sort of happened, so....”

The gears turned slowly in her head. “You built me. A car. From car parts. For me.” 

“...You don’t have to accept it. I can probably sell it off or something—”

Beth’s hands are in her afro, processing Rick’s words at last and shrieks. Rick startles, taking a step back.  “Are you kidding?” She cries. “You built me a car?!”

“I’m sorry!” 

“You’re sorry!?” Beth launches at him, hugging him hard enough for Rick to stumble backwards. “Don’t be sorry!” 

Rick wasn’t yet prepared to have her in his arms, but she’s squeezing so fiercely he can’t help but hug her just as tight. “So you’re not weirded out?”

Beth laughs and pulls away, staring out across the street before turning back. “I don’t know what to say!” She hits his arm excitedly. “Rick!! That’s crazy! You’re amazing! Why would you do that for me?”

“You’re the only one I ever really want to make things for,” he answers honestly. 

A huge grin breaks across her face and then she’s reaching up to hug him again. “What colour is it?”

Rick fights back his smirk. “Green for Dr. Mid-Nite? It matches your suit.”

“Riiiiick!” She squeals, jumping up and down in an exuberant happy dance and puts a hand to her face and sits down. “I need a second.”

Rick watches as she stares wide-eyed at her shoes, processing the information.

“It’s just a car.”

“It is not just a car and you know it! It’s a car!” She slaps her hands over her cheeks. “Oh my gosh!”

“Do you wanna see it?” 

“Yes!” 

They get ready to go. Courtney and Yolanda peek out the front window of the living room with a second batch of cookies, giving Rick very annoying, very knowing looks. 

Yolanda’s nose scrunches up with amusement when Beth runs out with her purse and straps herself into Rick’s passenger seat, honking on the horn to get Rick to pick up the pace and drive her to West Farms.

“Sounds like she’s pretty happy ‘bout that car,” she says. 

They toss his keys through the window. Rick twirls them around his hand with a half-hearted eye roll when Courtney starts making kissing noises at him. 

~.~ 

“You pushed the seat up!” Beth palms at the steering wheel as she gets a feel for the make, grinning from ear to ear. 

Rick watches with his chin propped up by his hand, elbow over the black horizontal stripes on the hood with an easy smile. “Course I did. You’re tiny.” 

He’s rewarded with a splutter behind the dashboard. “And it’s safe?” 

“Pat looked it over after I did.” 

She checks for herself anyway and Rick is proud of her for it, scanning the interior, exterior and engine with the X-Ray vision mode of her goggles.

They go for a test drive around the wide roads of the Farm Lands, Rick answering her questions as they pop up. She still needs to pass her final test for her licence next month, but he’s not worried about that. Beth had a round of anxiety behind the wheel when she first started learning, but with Rick and, surprisingly, Mike’s encouragement (definitely not Courtney’s), she managed to push through. Beth parks along the dirt stretch of Rick’s property and sighs like a dream.

“You were great. You looked comfortable.” 

Beth ducks her head with a timid smile at his praise. Her hands fall to her lap and she squeezes her fingers together over her navy blue flared pants. “I can’t believe you did this all by yourself.” 

Rick shrugs, somehow more embarrassed now than before trying to choke the words out on Courtney’s front porch. “It’s just a 2008. It’s not fancy.” 

All of the parts might’ve come from Zeek’s junkyard but Beth doesn’t seem to care how it was made by her reverence. “Yes, it is.” Her hand runs along the leather seat and rests it on the centre console. “It’s beautiful, Rick.” 

She laughs. It’s contagious and strings him along until her giddiness simmers down and looks at him some more with that appraising eye of hers. Rick wants to look out the window to diffuse the sudden heat when she does that. He can’t. He wants to suffer in it. 

“I think I’m in love.” 

Her smile is soft and light and as the sun sets orange outside behind her, Rick is compelled to agree.  

“Good. I’m glad you like it so much.” 

Beth bites her lip and nods. Her fingers start to tap, and Rick frowns at them, wondering why she’s picking up the tick she developed before she was at ease in the driver’s seat. 

“What?” he prods when Beth goes silent, concerned. “Beth?” 

“Yeah, um…” Beth looks out the window, at Rick’s house and his yellow Mustang a little further ahead. The expanse of field and the dusk horizon overhead. Beth meets his caring gaze. And the power in it pulls him forward unwittingly. Her intensity has him breathless. 

She takes his hand to squeeze. “I’m not talking about the car.” 

~.~ 

“Did it work?” Court cajoles when Rick comes back through the front. “Did Beth kiss you?” 

He blushes, moving past her to get his bag. 

“That’s not why I built it,” he complains for the hundredth time. 

“She kissed him,” Yolanda decides without even looking up from her phone, still snuggled into the spot she stole from him on the couch. “Beth just posted the relationship on Facebook.” 

Court sticks out her tongue and fake gags. “Beth still uses Facebook?” 

“Hey.” Rick swipes the final cookie from the counter as she continues with her theatrics. “Pat uses Facebook.”

Courtney groans. “That’s my point!” 

Rick walks out. “Later.” 

Yolanda sits up straight. “What? Where are you going?” 

“Well...Beth took the car to her house so....” Rick stops at the doorway, donning a stupid smirk as it properly sinks in. “I gotta drive my girlfriend’s bike home.” 

[kaypeace21]

I believe that byler is an endgame

but why would they spend 3 seasons winding up with mileven?

People REALLY need to pay attention to the shows the Duffers cited as huge inspirations to them. Cheers,dawsons creek, freak &geeks did exactly what the Duffers are doing (and the Duffers said these shows inspired them)

. Cheers for over 5 seasons built up the pairing of sam and Dianne- had them break up in the s5 finale and then in the last 2 eps of the 11th season have them get back together and once again break up explaining for the 100th time they were wrong for each other and brought out the worst in eachother . Cheers would build up multiple pairings (Frasier /Lilith (s4-11/broke up in s11) , sam/Dianne (s 1-11, broke up in s11 permanently) , rebecca /sam (s8-10) Rebecca/robin (s8-9) -these pairings lasted for multiple seasons and they all broke up! They built pairings up for multiple seasons but showed throughout the show why those pairing in cheers could never work out in the long term. The same Thing happened with almost every pairing in Dawson’s creek (they’d build up multiple pairings up -sometimes for multiple seasons- sprinkle in good but also dysfunctional aspects of those relationships- and then break them apart for good ).

Also in Dawson’s creek 2 characters (a rich girl and poor guy with daddy issues) date and breakup- but both of their gay brothers get together and are endgame instead of them (cough jancy vs byler). One of the gay guys (the rich one with the book smart sis) even dated the main girl (Joey) for a while before admitting he was gay and that he was in denial (while dating the main girl for more than a season ). In D.C even the main guy(Dawson) / girl (Joey) don’t end up being endgame (despite teasing it for all 5 seasons) . They did this with a lot of couples in the show. Honestly, the Duffers pretty much borrowed this idea of showing pairings with issues and breaking them up -but toned down how long they’d bait them . Like 11seasons of showing dysfunctional couples date -ick. And Dawson’s creek ... my god it had a literal love octogon/ love webs (so many love squares/pentagons/ and on and off relationships). The 1 adult couple broke up and I’m not exaggeration 4 times, and Dawson got back with 2 of his girlfriends like so many times. And ugh I’d say each (of the 4-5) main characters dated at least 4 people -and each of those relationships lasted for like 20+ eps each... and then after all that build up -break up ). That’s not even including the people the main 5 or so characters would date for like 5-6 eps . Thank god it was toned down compared to Dawson’s creek or cheers. i can’t imagine the frustration watching those shows during its airing 😂

Freaks & geeks (set in the 80s)was also inspo.14 y old Sam who is bullied and called “homo” “queer” etc throughout the whole series - he also obsesses over a cheerleader girl for the whole series and in the second to last ep of the series- they finally start dating  and he realizes they have nothing in common and says “it’s boring. all we ever do is makeout.She likes nothing i like. We can’t talk to eachother. We never have fun.” And he admits he only keeps dating her cause everyone would call him “crazy” to not date her. sam and her are also said to be “from different planets” and “different species”  just like mileven in s3 lol.  The gf of  sam also says before they dated she saw him ‘like a sister’ (like El asking mike if he’d be her brother in s1, before they date). And after this sibling comment various characters -encouraged the couple and said they would be good together (before they dated-like what we’ve seen in st with mileven and other ships ).Sam eventually decides to not cave to peer pressure- and breaks up with her. Meanwhile sam’s sis (is a straight A student, who is initially into a popular guy and starts hanging with the cool kids).  After getting over the first (popular) guy, she later dates another guy- a music-obsessed-stoner-guy  with a cruddy dad...and she breaks up with him (like jancy?). That couple was even called ‘romeo & juliet’ before they broke up-similar to mileven being called “romeo & juliet’ before their breakup. plus r&j were never in love... just like mileven.

All 3 shows had the main guy/girl date but not end up with eachother in the end . And both shows -would build up several pairings that looked like endgame but would show faults in those relationships and would have them breakup (because those pairings were never that healthy together). Which I believe is what they’re doing with jancy, jopper, mileven and lumax (explained in my analysis here all the evidence for why I don’t think they don’t end up together). I mean there’s many reasons I listed in the analysis but you think it’s a coincidence - jancy, lumax, mileven , and Steve/rando girl who rejected him in s3-all incorportated spying on their love interest ? you think the duffers think that’s good to have all these romantic pairings spy on eachother? When in the show they canonically have the us gov (villains) spy via phone taps, and hidden recorders, and cameras? Brenner used El as a spy for his own gain ? they even call the mf a ‘spy’ (which the characters perceive as the  main villain)... i don’t think the mf is  actually villainous but that’s off topic).The point is narratively equating spying as something ‘wrong’ by characters our main cast of heroes is against. But having that same cast of heroes partaking in spying themselves … specifically on to their romantic partners- and not also showing it as a negative. But romanticizing it? Would be quite hypocritical. And a HUGE narrative oversight.

Also build up?

S1- mileven kiss right after el asks if he’ll be her “friend” or “brother”. Has others compare el to mike’s sibling /cousin. Hint Will is gay . Have hints mike is queer too/ and cares deeply about Will. Constantly mention how el physically resembles Will/a boy. Parallel mileven to ted/Karen who were “never in love”. Have Nancy and mike verbally compare the jancy/stancy love triangle to mileven/byler . And at the end of the season mike writes a story for Will that likens the 2 to han/leia. Flo says about jancy/Jon “ only love makes you that crazy and that damn stupid”. (Which flo wasn’t entirely right about since jon punched Steve for insulting his family- for Jon it was familial love -not romantic love. But put a pin in that phrase)

S2- was pretty much byler season (and mileven barely interact that season). Byler say they’d go “crazy together”. But el’s new catchphrase is she’s “not stupid.” They Compare mileven to luke/leia (siblings that kissed) . Ref ghostbusters and parallel byler to the romantic pairing of Dana /venkman (but have el just be a ghost and mike a ghost buster which isn’t romantic but the opposite) .parallel mileven to hopper/el. Have el spy on mike, el hurt a stranger cause of unhealthy jealousy, have mileven dance to a song about a possessive spying/Stalking ex gf . Throw in mileven burns like “they’re not in love they’re not even from the same planet.” (El being et ref) . Have mike say annoyed “a bond ?! (Scoff) cause you shared nougat?! “ (egos like s1 ) “. Mike saying after knowing max for a week “hate you? I don’t even know you?” (He knew el for a week too so no way he loves her -cause he doesn’t know el , just like max ) . mike even criticizes his friends’ instant attraction to max saying “you haven’t even spoken a word to her.”Dustin saying “ I don’t have to . I mean -look at her.” Which makes it even more suspicious that mike was into a girl who multiple characters said looked like a boy (specifically Will) in s1. Have El watch a soap opera (all my children) and mimic the scene of  erica kane and her love interest michael. Which in the soap opera-isn’t endgame, and ended with some stalking after their breakup.

S3- mileven is finally dating : multiple characters (lucas, Will, Hopper, dustin,Max, etc) in the show dislike and verbally complain about them together . In cheers all of sam’s friends hated him dating Dianne and would vocally complain about it (similar to joyce they even clapped/cheered after 1 of their many breakups) . Mike is horrified by the spying(that mileven fans romanticized in s2) , el is happier single and neither is heartbroken over the breakup. They date for 2 eps and then breakup . Mileven being together inhibits El’s character arc from s2 (aka she went from wanting to explore the world and leave the cabin in s2 to see her friends, to ignoring her friends and cutting herself off from the world in order to stay in the cabin all day to make out with mike for 6 months - she would literally lie to her friends about curfew to return to the cabin and kiss mike -going against her ‘friends don’t lie’ mantra from the past 2 seasons too ). Mike canonically doesn’t trust her / doesn’t believe in her ability to make decisions and lies to her and never apologizes for lying. And el doesn’t apologize for spying . They throw in more gay hints of mike & Will. Mileven is called “bullshit” like s2 stancy . And Both pairings in the show kissed a bunch and said “I love you” (but they weren’t endgame). They also contrast s3 mileven scenes to s2 byler scenes and have byler win out. And once again parallel mileven to hopper/el and Karen/ted. As well as paralleling and likening Mileven to stancy in numerous other ways (besides the “bullshit “ line) . They also parallel mileven to stobin (both are straight baits) .They parallel the stobin confession to the mileven one -both confessions have them sitting on the floor, both girls have bandages on their legs, and both confessions are interrupted by dustin. Also both Steve/mike use the terms “crazy & stupid ” to confess to robin/el. But unlike Will who agrees to be “crazy “ with mike .El confused , asks “ what makes you crazy?” And robin says she didn’t have a crush on his “stupid hair”. el even says in reference to mike “there’s more to life than stupid boys.” Showing how el/robin don’t have romantic feelings for the boys-like the flo phrase of s1. Unlike Will who after fighting with mike calls himself “stupid” over and over and rips up the photo of him and mike where they promised to go “crazy together.” Even Steve says in s2 stancy should should “pretend to be stupid teenagers” in love. Emphasis on “pretend”. And when el says she loves mike “the first I love you” plays -the only other time that song plays in s3 is when robin rejects Steve (cause she’s gay.) cough cause mike is gay too.

There’s a lot more in each season (that illustrates mileven was built up -but not as a positive couple but a problematic one that was never was in love to begin with ). But I’m trying to keep this short . You can read this post here where I go in more depth about all of this .

S1-2 builds up the problematic ships (but showed good and bad aspects of their dynamic) . like the spying of jancy, lumax, and mileven or the jealousy. of Hopper in s2. In the s2 finalie they have them kiss or hug/exchange romantic glances. And in S3 we see the after math of this with all the couples officially dating - and they show all the couples issues at the forefront . I already talked about mileven. But, Lumax broke up 6 times (they dated for 6 months- and every month they dated max dumped him ). Jancy fight in the opening of ep 1 and don’t understand each others issues (sexism/poverty-and Jon’s issues with his dad) . And neither supports the other in their passions of journalism & photography.Nancy is also called “nancy drew” who in 1986 (year of s4) before going to college dumps her long term highschool bf (who helped her in many of her past mysteries/novels ). Their relationship was also shown as complex and somewhat dysfunctional because of both parties -before nancy drew dumps him. And (even if not dating like the other pairings) jopper almost go on a date in s3. Joyce was trying to hide the fact she was moving, Hopper was horribly jealous, and all they did was yell and argue.Murray says to joyce regarding hopper “he’s a brute... probably reminds you of a bad relationship” (aka lonnie/Joyce) . They even have Joyce watch a cheers ep- which directly compares jopper to (dianne/Frasier) who weren’t endgame in cheers but a rebound .  Hopper /fraiser both drink chianti . Fraiser asks dianne to marry him/Hopper asks Joyce on a date-both women stand them up. Or when Joyce asks Hopper out she calls her self ‘detective byers ‘and Hopper name drops miami vice. Which had an on and off again relationship for several seasons- of the male /female detectives.The relationship faded out as Gina realized they mainly got together when one or both needed someone. Crockett was very protective of Gina, and had some jealousy when Gina was involved in relationships , but was the first one to be there for her when things went wrong. And they realized it was better to not be together romantically. Heck seems like all these couples have negative film/tv parallels... lucas in s2 mentions not liking winston in ghost busters cause he came ‘super late’ (like Max). in s1 disses michael myers (which Max dressed as). And at the end of s3- lumax dress identically to eric/donna from a ep of that 70s shows (in the ep  eric/donna were broken up).

 (s3 was marketed as the “summer of love” and “summer love” is a euphemism for flings that don’t last.) s4-5 Will probably show good healthy ships/break up the problematic ones from past seasons .

So first 2 seasons focus on the unhealthy ships / and the last 2 seasons focus on healthy ships. S3 the middle season would be considered the turning point -and why none of the popular ships (assumed to be endgame) came off looking that great (compared to how they were presented in s1-2) .

[fanmoose12]

Mike Zacharias was, all things considered, a good guy.

Levi wouldn’t have gone so far as to call him a friend, they only had a couple of classes together, but they both were a part of a football team.

And on the field, there was no better partner than Mike. He was honest and reliable. And when they played on the opposite sides, there was no tougher or stronger opponent for Levi than him. He always offered a good challenge. Levi liked that, respected that.

So all in all, Mike was a cool, even awesome guy, Levi didn’t have a single problem with him, except his best friend.

Hange fucking Zoe.

One of the most prominent and intelligent students at their school. The weirdest student of their school.

She was loud, messy and batshit crazy. Among other students, she wasn’t known for her exceptional intellect or her unusual friendliness. Instead, she was known for causing an explosion at the school’s lab not once, not twice, but three whole times! The only reason why she wasn’t kicked out of the school was her perfect grades. Or her parents’ huge wealth.

When she wasn’t hanging out with her ‘research team’ as she affectionately called those fools, who followed her around, she was spending her time with Mike. She was with him almost always, including the football practice.

And maybe, Levi wouldn’t have any problem with her, or Mike, if Hange wasn’t loudly cheering on Mike every goddamn time she accompanied him to the practices.

And, yeah, sure, what was wrong with cheering on a friend? But it pissed Levi off, especially because maybe, kind of, he had a tiny, little, miniscule crush on Hange.

He didn’t like her, of course. He didn’t. He just liked staring at her and listening to her. She also smelled surprisingly nice and had very soft hands. Not that Levi had ever held hands with her. He just touched them once, and now he wanted to touch them again.

They didn’t hang out together and, of course, they weren’t friends. They had only one class together, and that was biology. Biology, where Levi’s traitors of friends decided to fucking dump him.

“You need to be more friendly,” Farlan, that asshole smirked at him, after he had told him that he and Isabel were going to pair up together for the science project.

Stupid jerk, if his advice was so fucking sound, why didn’t he follow it himself? Still, there was nothing left for Levi to do than to seek out a different partner for himself. His eyes darted to Erwin, they weren’t exactly friends, not as close as he was with Farlan and Isabel, but they talked sometimes. He liked Erwin, but apparently his opinion of him was wrong, because when Levi turned around - Erwin was already paired with the biggest shitass in their school - Nile Dawk.

And, unfortunately, apart from Erwin, there was no one else Levi was on good terms with. Maybe, there was some truth to that fucker’s words. He really didn’t have a lot of friends.

Help came from an unexpected quarter.

Hange Zoe, the school’s prodigy, stood next to him, smiling sheepishly.

“Do you need a partner?” she asked.

And it wasn’t like Levi could refuse. He did need a partner. And, as he learned later, Hange Zoe turned out to be an amazing one.

She was smart, but also hardworking and very passionate. She was also unusually, but genuinely nice. She wasn’t even a bit arrogant, and whenever Levi didn’t get something, she always explained it to him patiently.

(Sometimes, even though he would rather die than admit it out loud, he played dumb on purpose, just so he could listen to her excited voice and look into her burning eyes, as she explained to him some stupid shit like meiosis).

So, yeah, she was kind and really fucking funny. And, maybe, one could call her pretty, if that one was into messy-haired four-eyed weirdos. (Unfortunately, Levi was). And, yeah, maybe, he liked it, maybe, he liked her. It meant nothing though. Hange probably didn’t even know his name and paired up with him only out of the kindness of her pure fucking heart.

Levi shouldn’t even think about her. He also shouldn’t stare at her during lunches like he’s some kind of a pervert. And, especially, he shouldn’t become angry every time he hears “Go, Mike, you’re the best!”

She was just trying to lift her best friend’s spirits, Farlan and Isabel did it all the time.

Still, it pissed him off, it hurt his pride, it made him fucking jealous.

He hated it. But, unfortunately, he couldn’t hate her.

 ***

His leg was kicked. Levi ignored it. His leg was kicked again. Again, Levi ignored.

“You’re staring at her again,” the words were followed by another kick.

Levi grunted, turning to face Farlan. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, using his most disinterested voice.

“Huh?” Isabel twisted her head around, looking at the mass of students, gathered in the cafeteria. “Who was big bro staring at?”

“No one,” Levi answered, while at the same time Farlan pointed Isabel to the right person.

“Ooh,” she cooed, grinning wickedly. “You’ve been staring at the weird Zoe girl!”

“Now, now,” Farlan chucked, patting Isabel’s head. “You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She may be a weirdo, but she’s also Levi’s sweetheart.”

“I swear to god, Farlan, if you don’t shut up, I’ll fucking punch you!”

Levi’s anger intensified, as he saw the shit-eating grin on his friend’s face. It was an empty threat and Farlan knew it perfectly.

“Oh no!” Isabel squealed, frantically pulling on Levi’s hand. “She’s coming here!”

“Oh yes, she totally does!” Farlan agreed. “Come on, Izzy, we should give them some privacy.”

And before Levi could throw another insult his way or beg them not to leave him alone, Farlan grabbed Isabel’s hand and dragged her away.

Fucking traitors.

Levi looked up - Hange was actually heading to his table. Shit. What did she want? What should he do?

She probably wanted to discuss the science project, the rational part of Levi’s mind kept insisting. But his heart didn’t listen, continuing to beat erratically inside his chest.

Shit, he needed to get a grip on himself. Hange was just a girl, a nerdy weirdo. The fuck he got so worried about?

“Hi,” Hange stood in front of him, holding a tray in her hands. “Can I sit down with you?”

“There is a lot of free space here,” Levi grumbled, taking a bite from his sandwich.

He mentally kicked himself. Why was always such an asshole? That’s why he only had two friends. Not that Levi gave two shits about being polite, but, well, he’d like to be Hange’s friend. Or maybe, something more.

“Great!” Hange smiled, as she took a seat across from him. Levi glanced at her beneath his fringe - of course, he shouldn’t have worried. Hange was a weirdo, she was never bothered by his rudeness.

“I just wanted to talk with you. I… well, you know about school dance this Friday? Oh, sorry!” Hange chuckled. “Of course, you know about it! That’s the only thing everyone talks about!”

Well… Levi certainly heard about school dance. Isabel mentioned it a few times, but neither of his friends was planning on going there. And there wasn’t any reason for Levi to attend. He would rather spend his Friday at home, playing video games with Farlan and Isabel.

“Anyways!” Hange continued. “Have you asked someone already?”

That took Levi by surprise. The question was so absurd that he looked at Hange closely - was she joking? But, strangely, she seemed to be serious. And she appeared to be somewhat nervous, which was even weirder. In all the time that he knew her, Hange was never nervous or shy. She was always unapologeticly bold. That was one of the reasons Levi liked her so.

So what was wrong now?

“Um, no?” Levi answered, feeling uneasy. For some strange reason, his pulse fastened.

“Oh, then have someone asked you?”

Levi eyed her carefully. Hange was fiddling with the straw of the juice box and she avoided looking him in the eyes. So she was nervous! But why? Levi glanced behind Hange’s shoulder. Mike was sitting on a table near them. He was grinning happily, and when Levi met his eyes - Mike winked at him.

What the fuck was going on?

He focused on Hange again. “No, no one asked me.”

Well, technically, it wasn’t true - a surprisingly large amount of girls had asked Levi to accompany them to the school dance. Levi had rejected them all. Unfortunately, the only person he wanted to go with was right now sitting in front of him.

“Great!” Hange beamed. “Oh, wait, no, that’s not what I meant!” she frantically waved her hands around. Levi hid a smile, amused by her gesticulations. “I’m sorry that no one asked you yet, but maybe…” she trailed off, turning to look behind her. Levi followed her gaze and saw that Mike gave her an encouraging smile, showing thumbs-up. She turned back and cleared his throat. She still avoided looking him in the eyes and there was a bright blush on her cheeks. “Maybe, you would like to go with me?”

Aaaaaaand he definitely misheard her last sentence. And even if he hadn’t, he probably didn’t understand it in the right way. Maybe, Hange was taking pity on him again? Just like that time, when she offered to become his partner in a science project?

“You want… to go dancing?”

“That was my initial offer, yes, but we can just hang out…” Hange twirled a stray lock of her hair, smiling shyly.

“You want to hang out…” Levi paused, not quite processing her words. Hange just couldn’t mean what he thought she meant. “With me?”

“Yeah…” Hange lowered her head, her shoulders sagging. “I thought you knew about this?”

He knew about what?

“…I mean the whole school probably knows, I’m not exactly subtle…”

The whole school knows about what?

“I was sure you knew about my crush on you…”

Wait, what? What the fuck? Hange liked him?

“You…. Have a crush on me?”

“Well, yeah?”

“Since when?”

“Um,” Hange rubbed her neck, her blush becoming even more apparent. “For about a year?”

“A year?!”

“I know it sounds pathetic, but yes? You don’t know how happy I was when you agreed to become my partner… Oh, jeez, this is so embarrassing,” Hange chuckled, and even in his daze-like state Levi felt how forced her laughter sounded. “You’re clearly not interested. I knew you weren’t, but that jerk Mike made me confess to you… I’m sorry!” she straightened out, grabbing her tray with food. She held it so tightly, her knuckles were white.

Levi stared at her hands, unblinking. He suddenly remembered that time in biology class when they were studying DNA. They needed to extract DNA from spinach, and upon seeing Levi’s clumsy movements with mortar and pestle Hange decided to help him. She laid her hands atop of his and gently guided them, showing him how to do it correctly. Her skin was soft and so warm. Levi was so flustered he felt like his heart was going to jump out of the ribcage.

And why was he remembering it now?

“Well, I should go, I don’t want to burden you…”

Hange almost got to her feet and left, but before she could do so, Levi grabbed her by the wrist.

“Wait!” He called out, surprised at how hoarse and desperate his voice was. But he couldn’t help it, he still couldn’t believe that Hange’s confession was real.

“You like me back?” he uttered quietly, looking up at Hange with hope.

“Ye— Wait!” Hange shrieked. Everyone around the cafeteria turned to look at them. If Levi could pay attention to something else except Hange’s adorably bewildered face, he’d even hear Isabel and Farlan high-fiving each other in the background.

Thankfully for his best friends though, he had a more pressing issue now.

“You like me back?” Hange didn’t lower her voice, and now every student in their school knew about Levi’s feelings for her.

His reputation of cold and aloof guy was destroyed forever.

He didn’t give a fuck.

“I do.”

His hand traveled down her arm, until it ceased her palm and held it in his.

At the sight of their joined hands, Hange’s lips curved into a bright smile.

“So you agree to go dancing with me?”

Levi shrugged, intertwining their fingers. “We can do that.”

“Great!” it seemed impossible, but the smile on Hange’s face became even happier.

Levi stared at her, feeling the same happiness inside him. Their bliss was cruelly interrupted by a loud ring that announced the start of a lesson.

“Shit, I’m late to English!” Hange shot to her feet. But before she ran away, she turned back to Levi. “Maybe, I can see you after school? We can walk home together?”

“Sounds good,” Levi nodded.

“Excellent!” Hange quickly leaned down and placed a kiss on Levi’s cheek.

Then, she was gone. Levi stared after her retreating figure, feeling a smile appear on his lips.

He probably, no, definitely looked like an idiot.

But for some reason, he didn’t give a fuck.

[okwillthewise]

In absolute honour of Will Byers birthday though also because i just really want to post a section of it I'm posting a section - though to be honest, it's a oneshot in itself - of my Will Byers fanfic wonder if he'll ever know.

In this section, Will knocks on Jonathan's door one night after The Snowball and they have a little discussion.

(It's still a little bit of a work in progress, so somethings may change but there we go. I hope you enjoy!)

It’s not particularly late though it’s not particularly early either when he knocks on his brother’s bedroom door and Will hopes that Nancy isn’t here tonight. They’re home alone this evening, their mom visiting Hopper and El at the cabin. She’d been visiting a lot since her arrival to their house in November (not that Will was remotely aware of that El had done so) insisting that there was no reason she couldn’t give Hopper some help now that the secret is out. El still wasn’t allowed anywhere but the cabin - The Snowball being an exception to the rule - so Will hadn’t had much interaction with her, though he supposed that he was content to learn about how she’s doing and what’s she’s like from The Party and his mom for now. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, but more that he was increasingly aware that El wasn’t his friend, not really. He didn’t have the shared experience that she did with his friends, despite their lives being so closely intertwined and, if he’s being honest with himself, right now he’s not sure if it’s something that he’s longing for.

“She does want to talk to you. Properly. I think you’d really like her”

Mike often said after his secret visits to the cabin. And Will is sure he would but for now, he’d nod, listen to Mike sing her praises and subtly suggest that maybe they could do something else now.

On the subject of secret visits, Will wondered if maybe his brother was the only one that wasn’t aware that the household knew of the, now regular, nighttime visits of Nancy Wheeler. It seemed to happen all of a sudden if he thinks about it - somewhere between possession and The Snowball just a few days prior, he can’t quite pinpoint when. Did I really miss that much? It was odd to think about - just as it was odd to consider that maybe this time it was over.

There haven’t been any surprise blips into the Upside Down either.

So did this mean they could move on? He guesses it did, his friends were clearly doing as much and he was happy for them, he was. Maybe it was selfish but it felt weird seeing them move on from everything - or maybe everyone’s actions at The Snowball being something to latch onto in an attempt to say ‘Look! See! We’re fine! Everything's a-okay’

There’s no answer from Jonathan, his music a little too loud. Maybe Nancy is there, gross.

“Jonathan? Can I talk to you - (and please say you’re alone) -” He knocks again, and puts his ear to the door. He hears the music soften, the shuffling of papers and Will exhales knowing it’s just him. He doesn’t have a plan, not really, and part of him wonders if just maybe he wishes Jonathan were busy with something.

“Hey.” his brother pulls open the door fully, leaning against the frame, “You ok, bud?”

Will nods, raising an eyebrow at his casual pose “Are you?”

“What? Yeah, of course I am. Want to come in?”

With no affirmation, Will enters his brother’s room, taking everything in - his record player playing David Bowie, the poster decorated yellow walls. Jonathan’s room, just like Castle Byers was a safe space, if he thought about it maybe safer than his own. Through everything with their dad, readjusting after The Upside Down, the one thing that had remained consistent was his brother, and for that he he was grateful.

“I’ve got some really good photos from the dance - stayed late in the dark room the other day after school. Want to see?”

“You willingly stayed past school hours just to process some photos?” Will smirks, pushing himself onto Jonathan’s bed a little further, now more situated in the middle, and crossing his legs. “Haven’t you got anything better to do?”

“Hey, I used it to process some of ours too. My life isn’t just extracurricular.” He laughs before his expression turns to one more serious. “I remembered, on my camera I took a few of mom and - well, you know. I’m not sure if she’d want them after everything but it’s coming up to Christmas and - I don’t know, it might be a bit too soon. What do you think?”

Bob Newby: Superhero.

There’s an indescribable guilt that Will feels he can’t shake, not really. It was peculiar; he knows it wasn’t really him at least that’s what they’re telling me but there’s this part of him that can’t shake the feeling that it was. Him in mind but Will in body; who was in control really? He was in control enough to tell his mom that he was sorry, in control enough to tell them to leave, in control enough to know what you did. His mom has spoken with him about it since, as much as she could (and as much as Will would let her). He didn’t like to hear her talk about Bob, not just for himself but her too - his mom’s smile never quite meeting her eyes whenever she mentions the good times and the crack in her voice in casual conversation. Yet, despite her reassurances that -“It wasn’t you. It was that thing inside you”

He sometimes wondered if there wasn’t even just a few times in which she felt differently.

Jonathan asks again, concern now laced on his face and Will becomes increasingly aware that maybe he let down that guard just a little too much.

“I- I don’t know. It’s not the easiest subject for mom right now-”

Jonathan hums in response, picking up the photos from his desk and joining Will on the bed.

“-but maybe her birthday? He filmed loads on his video camera. We might be able to give her both?”

And Jonathan smiles, simply saying “Sounds great Will”

Jonathan looks down at the photos in his hand, shuffling them a few times before passing them over to Will, “Here. I’ve got some great ones of you and that girl” he nudges him and Will grimaces.

She was nice enough, well nice enough for someone that called him Zombie Boy as a means of getting him to dance with her. He studies the photo, zoning in more than anything at the expression on his face - he doesn’t look uncomfortable per se, but there’s a definite underlying feeling of ‘I want to be anywhere but here’. He switches the photo, flicking through and Will thinks back to the day, thinks back to looking around the almost unrecognisable school gym and seeing his friends so happy - Dustin grinning though there’s an almost bewildered look on his face as he holds onto Nancy’s waist; Lucas giving him a waggle of his eyebrows as he catches Will’s eye as he dances with Max, her head on his shoulder; Mike, resting his forehead against El’s, a stupid look on their faces.

And then there’s Will, arms outstretched, loosely placed on the girls hips, her hands firmly on his shoulders.

-

“Hey, Zombie Boy?” - It’s Will - she’d said a few minutes into Every Breath You Take. “This is fun, right?”

“Um - yeah, sure” Will had replied, forcing a grin. His eyes flicker to his friends again before his focus is immediately pulled back to the girl in front of him, her face edging nearer to his own.

Oh god. Is she? Um.

He’d felt frozen, as her eyelids fluttered, beginning to close, edging ever more closer towards him. You could just get it over with is one of many thoughts spiralling around his mind. Get it done and then that’s it. He looks over to Mike, his eyes still on El, only El, then to Lucas who’s now attempting to flirt (“wow stalker, what a line”). Sighing, about to pull his attention back to the girl, there’s Dustin, giving him a look he can’t quite decipher. Will didn’t know what he expected, after Mike’s heavy encouragement to dance with her earlier, but as Dustin’s eyebrows furrow, he knows his answer.

-

“I said no” Will mutters as he reaches another picture of himself, this time in mid-conversation with Mike and Lucas. “Should I have said no?”

“Kind of hard to answer that if I don’t know the question”

He snorts, placing the photos down next to him on the bed - between himself and Jonathan . Will shifts slightly, one leg on the bed, so he can face Jonathan a little more. “She tried to kiss me. I said no. Should I have said yes?”

“Did you want to?”

“I don’t know. Everyone else was doing it” Will shrugs, pushing the photos closer to his brother, who picks them up and shuffles through, until he’s back and the picture of Will dancing with the girl.

“Who’s everyone?”

“Mike and Lucas - don’t worry, Dustin didn’t try anything with Nancy”

Jonathan gives him an incredulous look, “Will, I am not worried about Dustin dancing with my girlfriend” he scoffs - so he finally admits it - “Besides, I’m pretty sure Mike and Lucas don’t count as everyone”

“You know what I mean”

Jonathan sighs standing from the bed. Will watches as he puts the photos down on the desk before picking up a vinyl and slipping it out of the case. He takes the disc and slots it into place on his record player, carefully placing down the needle. Jonathan picks up the, now empty, sleeve once again, showing it to Will. “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust? I know you like this record” and Will just nods.

Five Years rings out and Jonathan makes his way back, and takes to sitting cross legged on the bed, now fully facing Will.

“Do you remember what I said? It was a few years ago now, but do you remember?”

“Kind of hard to answer if I don’t know what you’re talking about” Will throws back, echoing his brother’s earlier remark who simply rolls his eye in response, though a smile is evident on his face.

“You shouldn’t like things because people tell you you’re supposed to. I know it’s not completely the same but it works. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do Will, or feel like you should be doing something just because everyone else is. If no-one else was doing it, would you have kissed her?”

“No, I don’t think so, no.”

“And that’s fine.” Jonathan reaches out and places a reassuring hand on Will’s shoulder squeezing it slightly.

Bowie’s vocals ring out throughout the room and Will can’t help but really take in the lyrics. People, places, all caught up in time, the end of days and he can’t help but draw comparisons to what they’d all been through. A Soldier with a broken arm, the nobody people, the somebody people, if Will’s being honest, he doesn’t quite know who he is. Nothing quite fits into place. But he wonders if maybe that’s ok for now, it’s ok knowing some things and not others. He’s still got time.

More than Five Years anyway.

“You ok, bud?”

“Yeah, of course. Just thinking about things.”

[mediocre-riverdale]

WHY FINN HUDSON WAS THE WORST

#1. Cheating

Finn cheats on Quinn twice with Rachel, which evens out when Quinn also cheats, but no one ever mentions Finn cheating again. So, Finn gets cheated on by Quinn and Rachel, and both times he says how much it hurts and has an outburst. Despite now knowing the pain it causes, he encourages Quinn to cheat on Sam multiple times until she finally does it. He then continues to mock Sam, smirking at Sam and saying ‘I didn’t kiss your girlfriend’ in a teasing tone that implies to everyone that he did. Sam has done absolutely nothing to Finn except be nice and Finn shows no remorse at all for wrecking a relationship, even though he’s been cheated on twice. Again, no one calls him out on this besides Sam.

#2. How He Treats Rachel

Finn knows that Rachel has a crush on him because Rachel is very obvious about it. Despite the fact that he has a pregnant girlfriend at the time, he manipulates Rachel’s emotions and asks her out on a date with the intention to get her back in the Glee Club and not actually date her. He even kisses her (twice). So, after Quinn and Finn break up, Rachel assumes that her and Finn will date (since by this point they’ve kissed twice and been out on a date). Finn goes ahead and tells her he doesn’t actually want to be her boyfriend, which is fine because even though he led her on at least he’s honest.

He goes to hook up with hotter girls and when that doesn’t work out he goes back to Rachel, who now has Jesse. Rachel tells Finn that she’s moved on, which she has a right to do since Finn dumped her. Finn’s response? He’s not taking no for an answer and will not respect Rachel/Jesse’s relationship even though he had his chance. He goes on to betray Rachel’s trust and expose Rachel/Jesse’s relationship to everyone, taunt Jesse multiple times, and not back down. After Rachel tells him no again, he even sings Jessie’s Girl to her in front of multiple people and circles her while Rachel sits there uncomfortably.

After Finn leaves Rachel to go to the army comes back (after backpacking around for months without saying a word to anyone), he’s angry that Rachel moved on after he told her to do just that. He complains and is shown to be jealous of Rachel’s success. Once he finds out Rachel did kiss Brody, he runs off like a child to Lima, again without saying anything to Rachel. This forces Rachel to abandon her life in NYC for at least a whole day just to come find his pouty ass.

While Rachel maturely explains why they can’t be together anyone, Finn pathetically complains about how he now has no one in the world and how things will never be good again.

#3. How Finn Treats Other Males

I’ve already mentioned how he belittled Sam (also: when the Sam did the Justin Bieber experience, Finn claimed it was stupid and then after finding out he could get Quinn to cheat using a Bieber song, he stole Sam’s idea) and Jesse, and encouraged their girlfriends to sleep with him. So, let’s move on to Blaine. Blaine is a nice guy who joins the New Directions with the intention of helping them and finding love with Kurt. Finn, noticing Blaine’s talent, insults him multiple times and tries to make him feel as if he’s not part of the team.

Moving onto Kurt. Kurt is his friend and step-brother, yet he doesn’t really treat Kurt well. He indirectly calls him a fag, tells him to tone it down with the gay stuff, doesn’t stand up for him multiple times in fear of losing his high school popularity, and is shown to be uncomfortable in a lot of normal situations with Kurt. There’s an episode where Rachel asks Finn to stand up for Kurt and Finn blatantly says he can’t do it because of his reputation. In the end, all of this is resolved by him dancing with Kurt at a wedding (where the only people attending are the Glee clubbers and family members, all of which are already accepting), which does absolutely nothing to stop the fact that Kurt is being terrorized by Karofsky.

#4. Finn Is A Hypocrite

We’ve already covered the whole cheating thing where he constantly complains about being cheated on but encourages cheating himself. Let’s talk about how he berates Rachel for not giving up the spotlight or allowing talented people to join (Sunshine), but then is threatened and mean whenever any other talented male comes in. If Rachel insults someone or tries to steal a solo she’s a horrible, annoying diva. If Finn insults another nice male with more talent than him, Finn is an insecure teen who needs to be coddled and propped up by everyone.

In season one, Finn is creeped out by Kurt’s persistent crush on him. He says something along the lines of ‘if I did that to a girl, she would take out a restraining order’. But he does do stuff like that to girls. Again, Rachel says that she is dating Jesse and he needs to respect that and Finn continues to pursue her. Quinn says that she is dating Sam and doesn’t want to cheat, but Finn won’t take no for an answer and goes on anyways.

#5. Finn’s Prejudice

I’ve already mentioned how he screamed faggy at Kurt multiple times, but let’s look more into that. When Sam comes and wants to sing a duet with Kurt, Finn immediately finds Sam to say that he can’t do a duet with another guy. Sam says that he already promised and will be doing it, but Finn argues against it and later goes to tell Kurt that he shouldn’t sing with Sam. Poor Kurt is guilted into singing alone.

Finn later calls Sue’s baby a retard, even though he knows multiple people with Down syndrome and obviously knows that word is an insult. He says this when he is an adult, not a dumb teenager.

#6. Finn’s Reputation

Everyone constantly talks about how Finn was ever so brave for being nice to the Glee Club and joining them. No one mentions how Quinn, Santana, Brittany, Puck, Mike, and Matt also joined even though they were Cheerios/football players.

Finn cares about his reputation more than anyone else. At first, he won’t admit he likes Rachel because she’s a loser. He won’t pose in the Glee photo after promising Rachel he would. He won’t stand up for Kurt. In the episode where all of the football players have to choose between football and Glee, he is the only one not to show up. He basically tells Kurt to ‘tone down the gay’ multiple times. In another episode, he goes to throw a slushie in Kurt’s face because he needs to keep his popularity.

#7. Finn Compared to Others

Now, you might be saying ‘oh, but Santana, Quinn, and Rachel did bad stuff too’.

Okay, let’s talk about Santana first. Yes, Santana insults people all of the time and is a bitch. She also gets called out on it multiple times (while basically no one ever calls Finn out on anything), and she stands up for multiple glee members. Santana tapes a recorder to her under boob to get Sebastian in trouble after hurting Blaine, threatens Karofsky in the halls when he threatens to beat up Kurt/Blaine, creates the Bullywhips to protect Kurt, blackmails Karofsky so Kurt can come back to school, and threatens Brody with a Paula Abdul song after she finds out he’s shady.

Rachel is annoying yes, but everyone never forgets to tell her this. She constantly stands up for herself and others in the club. She’s the one that comes up with the idea for the guys to threaten Karofsky. She’s the one who offers everyone singing lessons, is down to do anything to help the club, and helps Kurt multiple times with songs/auditions. She’s nice to Quinn about the pregnancy, even though both of them know Quinn would have tortured her if the roles were reversed.

Now onto Quinn. I think Quinn is kind of a bad person, but again, people tell her this to her face. No one ever really tells Finn when he’s done something wrong, they just continue to praise him over basic human decency. Multiple people have told Quinn how horrible she is, and somehow acknowledging that she’s a bitch makes it less annoying to see because we know that something will be said/happen to her. For Finn, consequences don’t exist.

#8. Santana’s Outing

Okay, I’ve seen some people say that Santana was a bitch who deserved to be outed (no one deserves that) and that Finn wasn’t trying to tell everyone, just a couple people. So, we’ll disregard that he outed her in a high school hallway in a school that was openly homophobic.

After the outing, Santana slaps Finn and later Finn uses that as blackmail to get her back into the Glee Club for a week, saying it’s either that or no competition. Lady Music Week is humiliating. It consists of everyone singing a song while making deep eye contact with Santana while she sits there uncomfortably. Santana says multiple times that she doesn’t like the idea and doesn’t want attention on her, but of course Finn doesn’t listen because he can’t take no for an answer.

Finn sings Girls Just Want to Have Fun and everyone immediately disregards the fact that he said Santana’s biggest secret in front of multiple people.

#9. No One Blames Finn For Anything

Like I’ve said above, Finn cheats, isn’t there for his friends, insults people, has jealous rage, outs Santana, and cares about his reputation over everything, and yet no one says a word to him about this. No one goes ‘hey Finn, you’re acting like an ass’.

Finn is praised the entire show for being ‘the best guy in the world’. There’s a scene where Artie thanks Finn for being his friend and basically says that it was a sacrifice for Finn to step down from his popularity for a bit to slum it with the Glee Club. Again, Quinn, Santana, Brittany, Mike, Puck, Sam, and Matt all joined even though they could’ve been popular. They receive no praise.

#10. Finn Is A Lazy Complainer

Finn spends most of high school not studying and playing video games. He’s also on the football team, but doesn’t really commit to football that much. He’s a mediocre high school student.

When college applications time comes around, Finn has the audacity to be shocked by the fact that he doesn’t get a football or theater scholarship. He spends all of season three complaining about how he’ll never get out of Lima, even though all we’ve seen from him is him plotting how to sleep with girls, whining about his reputation, and occasionally doing a decent thing. We never really see him work hard at anything.

He just complains constantly about everything and when Mr. Schue, Rachel, and Emma try to help him by giving him college pamphlets, he doesn’t even read them. He throws them out in the trash as soon as possible and then later goes on a rant about how he won’t be young forever, as if he never thought or learned about aging.

Then, in college, he’s shown to be a slacker who parties all day, drinks, and makes grilled cheeses. He even lies and manipulates college girls into taking off their tops, so hey, maybe he’s moved up a little in the world. Anyways, Puck has to come and tell him it isn’t cool to skip your classes.

Basically, Finn complained, finally got into a college, and then just slacked off again without learning anything

[charlienick]

hi and i love u. "i swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth" for the prompts....

Richie has decided that his dream-self can get fucked. And not in the fun way.

When he’s 24, at least once per night, Richie has what he would describe as an erotic nightmare. He never actually has sex in these dreams, nor does he die or even get seriously maimed. But they’re still definitely erotic, and they’re definitely nightmares. 

The first went something like this:

He is tied to a chair. He can’t get up. The rope is chafing his skin. He struggles against the darkness, but he does not move. He can’t. Squinting out into the inky black, he wonders if he’s wearing his glasses. It’s only once he has that thought that he sees a spotlight lighting up his childhood kitchen. His refrigerator has magnets from Acadia National Park, a photo of him and Bill flipping off the camera and laughing, a copy of his sonogram. The sight of it makes him ache in a way he can’t describe, nor does he have time to, because stepping out of the hallway and into the light is his childhood best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie is wearing a cream-colored sweater that he wore a lot in his late-teens and the bright red shorts he was so fond of in middle school. It’s a jarring combination, because Richie never saw him wear those two articles of clothing at the same time, let alone in the same era. He’s picking at a thread spinning loose from the sweater, looking down at it. He bites his bottom lip, and Richie starts to feel nervous, uncomfortable, because whenever he finds himself wishing Eddie were a woman so that it would feel normal for him to want to take his lip between his own, he looks away. Makes a joke. Averts attention from the ache in his heart, in his head, in his jeans.

He can’t do that now. He tries, but he doesn’t succeed. There’s something invisible keeping his head pointed forward. Eddie snaps his eyes up, smirks with the lip still caught in his teeth, and says… something. Richie can’t hear him from so far away, his hearing fuzzy the way his vision always is. The smirk isn’t cruel, isn’t mean or even teasing. Eddie looks proud of himself. He shucks off his sweater in one fluid movement and drops it to the linoleum beneath him. His skin shines golden, and Richie can hardly breathe. He feels like he’s being asphyxiated, and he bucks his hips, turned on and terrified.

And then he wakes up.

Dreams like this have happened almost nightly for months now. Once, it’s Eddie giving him a lap dance while he’s tied to the couch in their apartment. Another time, Bev catches Eddie stripping for him in his bedroom, and her laughter echoes all the way into the waking world. Regardless of the content of his dreams, Richie always remembers them in painstaking detail, and it’s really causing a rift between he and Eddie.

This sucks major donkey dick for three reasons: the first is that Richie is, like, deeply uncomfortable in his own home at all times. He can’t look at Eddie with his feet propped up on the ottoman without remembering how his legs looked wrapped around Richie’s waist, can’t hear his voice without remembering how he sounded moaning Richie’s name. The second reason, of course, is that Eddie is his best friend, and it’s shitty that Richie can’t find comfort in that the way he used to.

The third reason is that Eddie is starting to fucking notice.

He cornered Richie in the kitchen while he was making himself breakfast two mornings ago, and demanded he tell him what he did wrong because he couldn’t stand another weird, uncomfortable second of this weird standstill he and Richie had found themselves in. “What weird, uncomfortable standstill?” Richie had basically responded with, chuckling manically like that wouldn’t be a total tip-off that things were in fact weird and uncomfortable.

He has stopped walking around in his boxers, terrified that he’s going to get a hard-on when Eddie, like, waters the fucking spider plant and his shirt rides up and Richie short-circuits and has a total meltdown.

So he figures he’s attracted to his best friend. So what, he says to himself alone in his bedroom after jacking off the moment he woke up for the fifth day in a row. So I’m attracted to Eddie. Eddie is a pretty boy. This means nothing. I’m still straight.

He considers bringing this up to Stan, because next to Eddie, Stan is his best friend, but Stan would definitely laugh at him and say something like you’re an idiot. Go kiss your roommate and leave me be, which, okay, true, but not necessary. He knows, Brain-Stan! He’s aware the situation is reaching its boiling point! But he can’t exactly fucking tell Eddie, hey, I wanna suck your dick, but no homo, O best friend of mine! Eddie wouldn’t understand that the situation is precariously balanced between Richie’s suppression and the knowledge that Eddie has definitely sucked dick before.

Because Eddie was able to come out after he and the Losers moved from Maine to San Francisco, he has caught some dick regularly for the past six years. He’s pretty, as Richie’s head, heart, and apparently now dick all agree upon, and the four or so men he has in rotation all seem to think so, too. When Eddie would bring home a suitor prior to Richie’s epic sexual breakdown, he would just scamper over to Bev and Ben’s, or go bother Stan, Mike, and Bill at theirs. Now however, because on top of being attracted to his best friend, he’s also a goddamn masochist, and he’s staying holed up in his room listening to Eddie get fucked (or fuck? He isn’t certain on the makeup of his screwings, though not for lack of trying), one hand stripping his dick, feeling like a total and complete asshole. 

Richie knows that one’s sexuality is not always privy to one’s knowledge of whether or not the person would be interested in bedding him or not, and his wild imagination is not totally hinged upon reality. Bev and Ben would definitely not tie him up and have their way with him, but that’s still a familiar fantasy in his spank bank; he knows it will never happen, but it’s called a fantasy for a reason. However, jacking off to the sound of actual-Eddie’s moans and sighs is definitely crossing a line, and he knows it.

So since that one fated, sordid evening, he has decided that he isn’t going to jack off at all until either the dreams stop or he’s able to talk this out with Eddie in a normal way without totally having a mental breakdown.

This was a stupid decision, he decides ten days in, because it seems like the dreams aren’t going to stop and he’s going to have to face this for real or his subconscious might actually eat him alive. He’s not going to give into his libido because his heart is stronger than that. His weak willpower will not be his downfall.

So he decides to talk to Ben, because he’s the least likely to make fun of him about this, and because he might be able to knock some sense into him.

“Wait, you and Eddie aren’t making love already?” Ben’s face screws up in confusion. “Oh.”

“What do you mean, oh? We haven’t ever knocked boots because I’m straight as an arrow.”

“Sorry to inform you, Rich, but having… ‘erotic nightmares’ about your male best friend isn’t exactly heterosexual behavior.” Richie goes to cut in, but Ben holds a hand up. “And what would be so wrong with liking boys? Or liking Eddie?” Richie snaps his mouth shut. “Eddie is the best. You love Eddie as a friend, right?”

“Totally, yeah, I mean, yeah!” Richie rambles, nodding violently.

Ben smiles patiently, “So what would be so bad about loving him all the way?”

“I… I didn’t know… I mean, I’ve had sex with girls. It just doesn’t light a fire under my dick the same way this seems to. He’s so pretty, and I don’t quite know how to go back to seeing him the way I used to now that I see him so clearly. It’s like I’ve been looking at him without my glasses on my whole life, and now everything is so much less fuzzy. Like I understand it better now.” His eyes widen as the silence stretches on, Ben smiling softly the whole time. “I mean, uh, you know, he could hop on my dick and I wouldn’t say no. Then I’d have fucked the whole Kaspbrak clan.”

Ben’s nose wrinkles in distaste, so he doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he says, “Tell him, Richie. I promise it won’t go badly.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to fuck me back?”

“You really think all this is is sex, Richie?” Ben asks quietly. He offers him another smile, an encouraging one this time, “And I already promised—it won’t go badly.”

So Richie decides, fuck it. He’ll tell Eddie tomorrow.

But then he wakes up in a cold sweat from tonight’s newest erotic nightmare, this time leaning more heavily on the nightmarish aspect than the erotic, and he decides tomorrow can’t wait. Tonight. He’s doing this right now, because he can’t stand another moment not being close to Eddie.

He puts on his glasses, pads out of his room and knocks softly on Eddie’s door. “Eds? You up?” Silence. He knocks a bit harder. “Eddie?” He hears Eddie sniff harshly from inside his room, and something knocks loudly. “Eds? You okay?”

“Mmph,” comes Eddie’s muffled reply. “Come in, you dick.”

Richie smiles and does as he’s told. He can see Eddie relatively clearly through the slats in the blinds open to the moon high above them. He’s rubbing the side of his head, his hair a total mess, his shirt rumpled, his frown intense, and Richie realizes, fuck, I love this angry little goblin. Jesus Christ, I love him.

“Hitting your head on the headboard is way less fun when you’re by yourself,” he grumbles. He wraps an arm around his knees and tilts his head. “What’s up at… 3:50 AM?”

“I…” Richie breathes out unsteadily. He decides to go with the truth: “I had a nightmare.”

“Oh. Shit,” Eddie frowns, pulling back the blankets. “You wanna cuddle?”

Richie nods dramatically and pitches himself into Eddie’s bed, immediately wrapping himself around Eddie. Eddie snorts, laughs quietly, and turns in Richie’s hold, slotting their thighs together so they’re facing one another. “Dick. You know I don’t like to be the little spoon, ‘specially with you and your newborn-deer limbs.”

“Can’t you make an exception just this once, Spaghetti?” Richie smiles, but he’s really only teasing; he’s just fine with this.

“So long as you tell me what the dream was about.” Richie tenses in Eddie’s hold, thinking, shit, I really should’ve assumed he’d ask. “I mean, if you want. But until you tell me, I demand to be the big spoon.”

Richie sighs, turning in Eddie’s hold only because it’ll be easier to say it if he isn’t looking right at him. “So I’ve been having these… we’ll call them erotic nightmares.”

“That sounds like a term you thought of weeks ago and are very proud to finally get the chance to utter.”

“Die.” Eddie snorts. “Actually, don’t-don’t do that,” Richie whispers, “please don’t die.”

“I won’t,” Eddie says, sounding like he’s about to laugh but trying not to. “Was that what the dream was about tonight? Is that why you’ve been acting so weird lately?”

“Sort of, yeah. You were, uh, you were on top of me, and you… I didn’t even see it coming. Your heart, it was… I don’t even think it could ever happen in real life.”

Eddie slips a hand beneath Richie’s shirt, cupping his hip bone and rhythmically running his thumb in the hollow between it and his stomach. “It didn’t happen, Rich. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Richie breathes out, less shaky this time, and nods. “Okay.”

A long pause, and then, “You said these nightmares, they’re erotic.” Richie’s blood runs cold. Fuck, he didn’t want this to be how he said it. “Is that why I was on top of you?”

“Sort of,” Richie whispers. “Yeah.”

“Like… Like this?” Eddie dislodges his thigh out from between Richie’s and hooks it over his hips, forcing him to lay flat on the bed. Eddie hovers over him, eyes dark and electric in the moonlight. He looks ethereal, holy, and nothing like he did in the dream. “What happens next? When I’m above you like this?”

“It’s different every time,” Richie says all in one breath. Eddie’s boxer shorts are hanging and brushing against the tops of Richie’s thighs. He feels a light breeze away from spontaneously combusting. “Sometimes you dance for me.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, laughing quietly, “I can’t dance.”

“I know that, but my dreams don’t.” Eddie smile drops in an instant.

“What else?”

“Sometimes you hold me down⁠—”

Richie cuts himself off with a gasp when Eddie nudges Richie’s hands out from where they’re balled in Eddie’s sheets and presses them down to the bed beside his head. “Like this?” Richie chokes, nodding. He can’t say anything. He can hardly breathe. “What’s next, Richie?”

“You-you grind on me ‘til you—oh, holy shit.” Eddie swivels his hips in a tight circle against Richie’s dick, both of them already hard.

“Yeah? You been dreamin’ of me like this, Rich? How long?”

“What?”

“How long,” he grinds down low, and Richie moans, “have you,” he does it again, and Richie gasps, keening loudly, “been dreaming of me? Because I’ve been dreaming of you for years, Rich.”

“Motherfucking tap-dancing Jesus, you have?” Richie demands.

“Of course I have. Sometimes, when I bring a boy home, I pretend he’s you.”

“Oh my God.”

“Sometimes I accidentally say your name.”

Richie bucks his hips, feeling wild, caged. “Eddie, please, I need—”

“What do you want, Rich? I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Kiss me.” And he does. It’s everything and nothing like Richie dreamed it would be. It’s hot, searing, Eddie’s mouth a brand against his own, but the way Eddie is licking into his mouth feels nothing like he dreamed it would. It feels like he just wants to take care of Richie; he really wants to give Richie everything he asks for, and Richie feels drunk with the power-rush that brings. Beautiful, perfect, wonderful Eddie Kaspbrak wants to give him what he asks.

“Eddie,” he pants, and Eddie immediately pulls away, eyes liquid as they rake over Richie’s chest, still covered in his shirt. The light weight of it is suddenly stifling. “Please take off my shirt.”

“Of course, baby,” Eddie murmurs, unlocking their fingers and helping Richie sit up so he can do as he’s asked. “That better, angel?”

“Oh my God,” Richie whines, nodding. “This is so hot.”

Eddie smiles, “I agree. You’re definitely as beautiful as I dreamed you’d be.”

“You dreamed about me, too?” Richie sighs, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the thought of Eddie stripping his dick to the girls Richie’s brought home.

“Of course, Richie,” Eddie responds, hushed as he maps out Richie’s torso with the palms of his hands. One of his thumbs catches on Richie’s nipple, and he hisses, then gasps when he does it again. “Sometimes it’s sex dreams, like yours, but sometimes I dream you take me out to eat, or to the movies. Once, I dreamed you asked me to marry you and I woke up crying.”

“Eddie,” Richie says, all broken into pieces, jagged edges that sound serrated. “I would. You know I would, right?”

Eddie smiles softly, leaning over Richie and lacing their fingers back together, but the weight of Eddie on top of him doesn’t feel so suppressive anymore. It’s a comfort. It’s everything he could never admit to wanting. “I do now.”

He captures Richie’s mouth again, kisses that fall over him like stars, like meteorites, planets exploding behind his eyelids and pop rocks fizzing in his blood. He’s a shaking mess by the time Eddie pulls back again, kissing his neck and then sucking a mark into his collarbone, to his pulse point. He feels ready to burst, nearing absolute explosion.

“I want to fuck you, Richie,” Eddie says against his skin, and Richie moans to the ceiling, eyes rolling back in his head. “I want to fuck you, but I need to know this isn’t a one time thing. I won’t be my best friend’s sexual experiment, and I won’t be your fuck buddy. I can’t.”

“Eddie, I… look at me, please look at me,” Richie begs, unlacing their fingers and cupping Eddie’s cheeks. He looks terrified, ready to work himself into a panic attack, so Richie says, “I want to fuck you too, but more than that, I want to fuck your heart.”

Eddie snorts and goes boneless, his forehead knocking into Richie’s chin. “I hate you so much. I can’t believe you just said you want to fuck my heart, that’s so gross, what does that even mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” Richie says, proud that he managed to distract Eddie from the burgeoning panic. “I want to fuck your heart.”

“No, I want to fuck your heart,” Eddie shoots back, frowning intensely. Richie’s responding smile is blinding.

“We’re heart-switches.”

“This is the worst day of my life.”

“Sure, Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds in bed! I’m outlawing all nicknames when we’re hard, it’s uncouth!”

“What about…” Richie runs the tip of his nose over the thin skin of Eddie’s neck, “baby?”

“Oh,” Eddie sighs, elbows buckling where he’s holding himself over top of Richie, “baby’s good.”

“Yeah?” Richie smiles, hooking his hands up under Eddie’s shirt and bunching it under his arms. “What about angel, my love, is that one okay?”

“This isn’t fair,” Eddie whines, falling down to his elbows and crushing Richie as he laughs, “you can’t use my weak heart against me.”

“Weak?” Richie smiles against Eddie’s skin, feeling more at home than he ever has in his life. “Nah. I think you’re the strongest person I know.”

“Richie…” Eddie smiles, embarrassed, and leans up to kiss him again, which is fine with Richie, because he’s embarrassed, too. Thank god for erotic nightmares, Richie thinks as he cups Eddie’s hip and licks into his mouth, finally free, finally alive.

[writhingcreature]

Prompt 5 - Stozier

"stozier w/ the song dear friend by dayglow" requested by @toomuchkenny

It changed everything.

And I don't mean IT it, though that changed a lot too. No, the Incident is what really turned the whole world on it's head- even compared to the demon clown that tried to swallow Stan whole. Maybe it was the clown that set it all off to begin with...

When it seemed to all finally be over, Stan couldn't look at Richie the same way again. All he could see is the bat in Richie's hand as they stood in the dark sewer, facing something that Stan was sure would be the end of them. Richie, with his bat, facing an actual monster that could so easily bring actual death to him with not fear but anger. Anger that drove him to curse the thing out and smash that stupid bat against its head as if something made of wood could do anything against a supernatural beast.

The rest of Summer there was too much trying to pull himself together- it wasn't until school started that Stan realized. He realized that loud noises set him off, and each time he would shrink towards Richie. He realized that Richie's shoulder was really comfortable and found himself constantly laying his head there or on Richie's chest to hear his heartbeat. He realized that Richie's smile was crooked and too wide but also incredibly contagious. He realized Richie was this light that had always seemed too warm and too bright and therefore was sometimes overwhelming even if Stan would take on Greta Bowie herself if she tried to do anything too stupid to the Trashmouth. He realized that what had been so much for him before was actually exactly what he needed.

Richie's light was guidance in the darkness, and warmth in the cold. As this blizzard began to consume him, Richie could always give him light and warmth and safety and made everything bearable and even wonderful. Suddenly his jokes weren't as stupid. Stan found himself rolling his eyes and glaring less and smiling and even laughing more and more often.

Suddenly, Stan realized something HUGE.

He was in love with Richie Tozier. He was in love with his best friend.

It didn't scare him. Maybe it should have. What would his parents say? What would Richie say? What would his friends think, if he was into guys? Wasn't it enough to be Jewish- he had to be gay too? He got enough trouble from the people of Derry as it was- this might be the thing that got him killed for real...

It didn't scare him though. Despite everything, he was only curious and really excited. Sometimes Richie made him question his feelings - the boy was smart, and his grades showed it, but the things that came out of his MOUTH sometimes - but at the end of the day, he always knew he stood in the same place. And all he could see was a future where he woke up and Richie was next to him. Older. And they were all cuddled up and Stan slipped out of bed and made breakfast and the sunlight was soft and warm and Richie was there to hug him and kiss him on the cheek and Stan didn't know why but he could see it so clearly and it excited him.

He kept almost telling Richie, but then he just couldn't. What if Richie didn't like him back? What if Richie was straight and Stan had to pretend he didn't care as they continued to be friends? It made him nervous. Not scared. Hesitant. Hesitant enough to keep his mouth shut.

But then one day the Incident happened.

They were at a dance. Bev and Mike has come together as friends, and the others had gone stag. Mike didn't go to their school so this allowed them all to be together and spend some time together. It was one of those nights where they were all feeling light and were in a good mood. One of those nights where they were five minutes from ditching the dance and going something fun and wild with just the seven of them.

A slow song came on. Mike offered Bev a dance. "I feel like I've cheated you, honestly. We're technically on a date. I owe you at least one dance."

She laughed. "Yeah, I'd be down for that." The two of them went off and chatted excitedly, smiling wide and enjoying the dance like none of the other people in the room seemed to be. That was one of the magics of friendship I suppose.

A girl approached Bill after a few seconds as the others loudly teased Bev and Mike, who were ignoring them. "Uh, would you like to dance with me?"

He seemed surprised, but pleasantly so. "Uh. Yeah, sure." She smiled, and they branched off.

The interaction seemed to encourage Ben, who set his face and stood to his feet, moving toward a girl. She saw him coming and immediately booked it. The three Losers left frowned. Ben did this a few times. Sometimes girls left before he approached. Sometimes they waited or he caught them off guard. It was about twenty seconds of agony that seemed to stretch an hour before a girl grabbed his shoulder as he passed her, attempting to get to someone else. They had a brief exchange before Ben, stunned, nodded and she grinned and they moved to the dance floor.

Eddie stood. "This is dumb. I'm going to the bathroom." And he was gone.

Stan swallowed, eyes flickering between Richie and the dance floor. He looked at Mike and Bev. Ben and Bill and their partners. He saw them all smiling and laughing softly and talking- even if Bill was a little awkward. He wanted so badly to take Richie's hand and pull him up. GOD he wanted it so badly.

He felt a hand on top of his. He jumped, looking over as Richie stood, pulling Stan after him. For a second he thought Richie was pulling him towards the floor, but when Stan was standing, Richie dropped his hand and nodded towards the door. "I need some air. Mind coming with me?"

"Sure," Stan replied, trying to swallow his disappointment. He needed to stop that nonsense immediately. Even if they were together, dancing together here would be suicide. Maybe not in a dead sense... though maybe it wouldn't be too far fetched to expect.

The two boys went outside. Richie walked a bit out more and Stan stayed back, leaning against the wall of the school. It was a cool night- a relief from the warm room inside, when they were dressed up.

Suddenly Richie whipped around, his expression unnervingly serious. "Do you want to play 20 Questions?"

A voice in Stan's mind told him to book it. Something about Richie's sincerity in a question that should have been anything but intense set Stan on edge. "Sure." It was the second time he'd said it, and he realized he hadn't said much all night actually. Richie looked amazing and it made Stan nervous.

"You go first," Richie offered.

Stan thought for a second. What did he have to ask Richie? He couldn’t ask the one question he craved the answer to the most... so he played it safe. "What's your favorite part about school?"

"Triangle." Richie was suddenly incredibly close, taking long strides that made Stan tense up and press into the wall, startled and suddenly unsure. Their faces were inches apart and Stan only had a single beat to realize 'triangle' was not an appropriate answer to his question before Richie demanded, "Do you like boys?"

A Doctor could have told him he was dead and Stan wouldn't have been surprised. "Excuse me?" It sounded like he was choking. The words were raspy and too breathy, and choppy and far too wet sounding. He cleared his throat. Richie seemed suddenly frustrated. He said something Stan didn't hear clearly. "What?" Stan asked, trying to get him to repeat it.

There was a single second as Richie looked away, seeming to debate. Then suddenly he locked eyes with Stan again, his face set, and he whispered, "Fuck it."

It happened so fast. Hands were holding onto Stan's neck and jaw. Lips were pressed to his. Hair tickled his forehead- and it wasn't his. He had done it special for tonight. No strand out of place. A leg bumped his. His eyes fluttered close as his brain realized all these bits of contact were from not just any set of body parts, but from Richie.

Richie Trashmouth Tozier was kissing him.

And it was AMAZING.

Stan's hands drifted to Richie's waist and he pulled him close. Richie melted into him and when they parted, they both let out a shaky breath they'd each been holding. No words necessary. However it had happened, they liked each other. For now, that's all that mattered.

That's not how it stayed for long.

By their senior year, it was becoming nearly impossible to keep Richie at bay. They were in a secret relationship, unable to be coupley at school or in front of their families or in public at all. Not at the movie theater or under the table at dinner. Stan even got paranoid about doing things they used to do all the time before they were dating. He was TERRIFIED of getting found out. Finally Richie lost it. "I understand the caution, I just... It feels like you don't want to be dating me. Recently, even in front of the others you've been- weird! Do you not want to be with me anymore?"

"Of course I do, Richie!" Stan snapped, hating that Richie would ever doubt for a second how much Stan treasured their relationship and looked forward to finally achieving that dream for the future that seemed so wonderfully possible now. "I love you!"

The argument ended when Richie stormed off. It got escalated and they were both yelling and admitting emotions and fears and Stan was trying to defuse it but then Richie started crying, and it went from 'are you ashamed of me' to 'I hate this world and I just wish I wasn't apart of it sometimes.' The idea terrified Stan into stillness as Richie made his escape.

Someone heard. However it was had, word spread that Richie and Stan were dating by the day after the next. Just in time for them to make up and Stan to find the words to explain to Richie not only his love but the reasoning behind his choices. As if to punctuate why they had to be careful, Derry lashed out.

Eventually they got what they wanted. Richie and Stan broke up. After they made the decision, they stood face to face and Richie couldn't look Stan in the eyes. "I guess you were right, huh?"

Stan's face twisted with pain. "In situations like these, I wish I wasn't."

Their fear of the world kept them from getting back together, but their mutual feelings kept them from being friends... so eventually, they drifted more and more apart until they were suddenly graduated and going to college. And then, one day, they were so disconnected that they began to forget. Forget Derry. Forget the other Losers. Forget each other.

There was an emptiness. A space in their beds no one else could fill.

Stan tried. He met this wonderful girl named Patty and he saw this future with her that seemed promising. But something was wrong. He didn't love her, and he couldn't get himself to, and she deserves to marry and have kids like she wanted and be with someone who devotedly and passionately loved her.

Richie didn't even bother. For some reason, he thought about dating and it made him sick. He thought maybe there was a bad experience in high school, or an old girlfriend that had put a bad taste in his mouth. He was successful and happy and perfectly fine being single.

Then they got the calls. They heard Mike's voice and recalled Derry and IT and- and-

"Richie," Stan whispered.

"What?" Mike asked.

"Uh." He blinked. "Nothing." Who was Richie? "Ye- I'll be there. I'll see you soon." He ended the call.

Richie. Why did the name make his heart jump in his chest? Why did he feel so excited? Why is it that remembering that town from Hell and the THING that lives there made him feel... relieved? Why is it that when he remembered dark sewers and red hair and pointed teeth, the easiest thing to recall was a dark haired boy holding a bat?

Almost in a daze, Stan found himself packing and telling his work he'd be gone for a while. He balanced between the horrors of the Thing waiting for him.. and the curiosity and desperate need for the dark haired boy he somehow knew would be there.

And he was.

When Stan saw him, it clicked. "Richie." Suddenly so much of his mind cleared and so much made sense. Even as his nightmares came today life in memories he'd tried so hard to forget, Richie forever succeeded in lighting up the darkness and melting the cold, making Stan irrationally excited to go face a demon... simply because it would bring the two of them together again.

Richie seemed to have been knocked breathless. "Stan." There was a pause. Richie seemed over relieved, like he'd been expecting something terrible to happen and seeing Stan had proved that it wouldn't. "You got hot."

Without even thinking about it, Stan replied. "I've always been hot." It was half assed but Richie snorted. Stan couldn't help but smile.

There was a tension. A pause. A hesitation. It carried through their entire visit and battle against IT and the people of Derry - as idiotic and judgemental and aggressive and pathetic as usual. They were incredibly aware of each other, tip toeing around a possibility and feelings they were both so eager to take old of but so unsure of when it came to how the other person felt.

Then Eddie almost died.

Eddie saved Richie and Stan saved Eddie and they defeated IT and so much was put into perspective. They’d been running from people who cursed under their breaths for Stan and Richie’s deaths because they were different than other people. But now they really had faced death full on and almost been taken over by it.

And they hadn’t.

Outside of Neibolt, watching it cave in and fade into nothing, Richie looked at Stan next. He thought of all the odd habits he had. The excitement that burst in him, poking at the edges of thoughts he almost had but never did every single goddamn time he ever saw a bird. The kind of weird curiousity that drew him to judaism simply because it made him feel more whole. But not because of God or anything they taught. Because it was familiar. Because it reminded him of... something. His coworkers had thought he was crazy. Him? Religious? And yet....

He’d thought of Stan plenty of times, even if he hadn’t actually, directly thought of Stan.

And Stan had done the same as well. Feeling eyes on him, the man turned and locked eyes with Richie immediately. There was a sense of terror in Richie’s eyes. The same feeling that tightened his own chest. The fear that after this was all over, they’d go their separate ways and forget again. Forget IT and Derry - less bad - but also each other. Bill and Beverly and Ben and Mike and Eddie and... and Stan would forget Richie and Richie would forget Stan.

It didn’t matter that everything had just fallen apart right in front of them, finally ending. It wasn’t relief that filled them. They’d all survived. That didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if they lost each other again. So, despite the joy and relief they should have been feeling, they felt heavy and horrible and sick.

The only way to remedy that?

Richie moved first, but the second he had, Stan was too. They met in the middle, never breaking eye contact and not hesitating. Their hands were around each other, pulling each other as close as possible. They didn’t ram into each other- more, melted as their bodies touched, more and more the closer the got, until they had simply become one being.

Someone coughed. Stan and Richie ignored them. Someone else laughed.

Nothing else mattered. That kiss confirmed it all. Fuck people who wanted to tear them apart. Fuck Derry. Fuck fear. Forget everything else. Except each other. They’d never let anything come between them. Not ever again.

[niksixx]

Daddy’s Girl

Requested: Yes, by an Anon!

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Description: You and Tommy have a 3 year old, but you’re not together. The baby takes a liking to your new boyfriend and Tommy is jealous/hurt because he feels like he misses out on his daughter’s life.

Warning: Language, angst

P.S. Skylar is mentioned, so let’s pretend this is set in the past.

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Momma, can Mike buy me the pink cotton candy?” asked Everly, your three year old daughter. Her brown eyes were bright with excitement, reminding you so much of her father. “Pretty please?”

Bending down to kiss her cheek, you grinned up at your boyfriend Mike. Mike loved Everly like she were his own, and it melted your heart to know that Everly took such a liking to your boyfriend of five months.

“I’m sure Mike would love to get you the cotton candy,” you said, shooting your boyfriend a wink. You and Mike had opted to take Everly out for the day and seeing that a carnival was in town, you decided it’d be the perfect time for some family bonding.

“Come on, Mikey,” Everly said, pulling Mike’s hand in the direction of the cotton candy stand. “I want the biggest cotton candy ever!” Chuckling, you watched as a helpless Mike was dragged by an overly eager Everly, another trait she shared with her father, Tommy Lee.

When you’d met Tommy, you thought he was the perfect man. And he was, until the drugs and alcohol kicked in. You’d gotten pregnant only seven months into your relationship, and Mötley was only halfway done the tour they’d been on at the time. For the first leg of the tour, Tommy had been fine. It was when the second half started, the drinking became a huge issue, but you could tolerate the alcohol.

The drugs slithered into Tommy’s life when Everly turned two. He did his best to hid them from you, but Tommy wasn’t as clever as he thought. You’d found a small bag filled with white powder shoved inside his sock drawer, and you left him that night and stayed with your best friend, with Everly in tow.

By the time Tommy had gotten out of rehab, you had already been dating Mike. Tommy of course, refused to approve of your ‘lame’ boyfriend, as he’d say. You defended Mike religiously, but even so you had to agree that Mike was not like any of the other men you dated, especially Tommy. Tommy was wild, carefree, and fun. Mike was the polar opposite of Tommy, an engineer who enjoyed numbers and Animal Planet, with a buzz cut and thick black glasses, but he treated you well and adored your baby girl. You couldn’t ask for anything else.

Tommy of course was livid that you’d opted for joint custody, but when you reminded him that total custody was a thing (and was usually awarded to the mother) he shut up faster than he had opened his mouth. Instead of fighting, Tommy did his best to brush it off, but he hated only seeing his little girl two weekends out of four.

And sometimes he didn’t even see her that much if Crüe was busy touring. That wasn’t how her life was supposed to be, constantly traveling between Mommy and Daddy’s houses. Everly deserved a stable home, and that’s why Tommy had been so insistent that you try to work things out between the two of you romantically. In another world, maybe you would have tried. But Mike was sweet and you knew he cared for you, and you couldn’t break the poor man’s heart as easy as Tommy wanted you to.

“You know I can’t stand him around our daughter.”

Turning around, you looked straight into the brown eyes you used to be in love with and sometimes wished you still were in love with. Brushing the thought from your mind, you gave your ex-boyfriend, who was looking rather handsome, a hard look. Tommy stood with his hands in his pockets, lips in a hard thin line.

“What are you doing here, Tommy?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “And you can’t stand Mike because he’s not you.”

“First, you don’t own the carnival, Y/N, and second, you’re damn fucking right,” Tommy spat, his eyes turning a darker brown. “I’m here with Vince and Skylar, my goddaughter. I planned on taking Everly next week, but apparently you and stepdad over there had other ideas.”

You could sense the hurt and anger in Tommy’s voice right away. He was never one for hiding his emotions. Looking back at Everly, you saw her sitting with Mike on a bench, peeling cotton candy and dropping it on Mike’s tongue, giggling the whole time.

“This isn’t right,” Tommy murmured, causing you to turn back toward him. His hand rested on your shoulder and you tried ignoring his lips by your ear. “It should be me, you, and our daughter. Together. You know that.”

“And it would’ve been,” your voice was hard, gently pushing Tommy’s hand. “But shit doesn’t always work out the way you plan, Tommy. We learned that the hard way when you got me pregnant.”

“I know that,” he said softly, rocking on his heels. From the way his eyes lingered on you to the nervous chewing at his bottom lip, you were fully aware that Tommy wanted to say something else. “I just wish things were different.”

You nodded in agreement. If it weren’t for the drugs you, Tommy, and Everly would be a family. There would be no Mike, and you could watch Everly feed Tommy cotton candy instead.

“I’ve been replaced.” The laugh that escaped Tommy’s lips was dull, empty, and a piece of your heart broke watching Tommy’s face fill with sorrow as he watched his daughter bond with a man that wasn’t him.

Placing a hand on his arm, your face softened. “Tommy Lee, you know damn well that isn’t true. Don’t you dare say things like that.”

“Sometimes I go months without seeing her because of the stupid fucking tours. I’m already sick of ‘em,” Tommy clicked his tongue in aggravation. “I missed her first day of preschool, I wasn’t home when she took her first steps, and I had to hear her say ‘Dada’ over the fucking phone. Now, I can’t even take her to a stupid ass carnival because some other man wants to play dad when I’m not around.”

Grabbing Tommy’s hand, you pulled him to a bench next to a hot dog stand. “Tommy, look at her,” you said, pointing over at your daughter. “That little girl absolutely loves you. She understands that we’re not together anymore, but she has not replaced you. You will always be her father. You’ll be the man taking her to her father-daughter dances at school, and you will be the one who walks her down the aisle when she gets married.” You looked for any sign of life in Tommy’s face as you continued. “She makes me tell her stories of us before bed.”

Finally, a smile crept on Tommy’s face, revealing the cheerful man you’d once grown to love. “Really?”

“Yeah. She loves hearing how Mommy and Daddy fell in love years ago,” you sighed, running your hands through your hair. Your love story used to be one of your favorites, too. “I even let her watch a few videos of you drumming on stage. She wants a drum set for Christmas because ‘I want to be like Daddy.’ Her words, Tommy.”

You and Tommy sat staring at each other for what felt like an eternity. You didn’t want Tommy feeling replaced. He was one of a kind, and despite everything he’d been through on tour, he was a damn good father. You knew he would be the minute he held Everly in his arms soon after she was born. The smile on his face and the tears in his eyes had given it away.

“Daddy!”

Both you and Tommy looked up, grinning as Everly sprinted across the grass. Just as Tommy knelt down and opened his arms, Everly flung herself into her father, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. She was grinning from ear to ear, and you laughed as Everly gave Tommy a sticky kiss on his cheek. This little girl had always been a Daddy’s girl. No other man in her life would compare.

“Hi, Peanut,” Tommy said, kissing Everly’s nose. He and Mike exchanged a brief ‘hello’ before Tommy turned his attention back to the brown haired girl with two pink bows in her hair. “Are you having fun?”

Everly nodded excitedly. “Sure am! Can you take me on the Ferris Wheel, Daddy?”

Tommy gave you a nervous look, and you shook your head in encouragement. “Of course, Peanut. After the Ferris Wheel, I have a surprise for you. Someone would love to see you.”

“Who?” Everly’s eyes lit up.

Chuckling, Tommy hoisted the little girl in his arms, poking her nose softly. “Oh I don’t know, but I think I saw Uncle Vince and cousin Skylar over by the balloon stand.”

Clapping excitedly, Everly wiggled out of her father’s arms, tugging him toward the Ferris Wheel. Tommy let his daughter pull him toward the mini Ferris Wheel, and as he walked away he glanced at you over his shoulder. He mouthed a ‘Thank you’ before nodding his head.

You nodded back as well, the familiar sight of Tommy with Everly warming your heart. No, you weren’t together, and no telling if you would ever be together again, but you needed to have some sort of a relationship with Tommy. Because in the end, your daughter was the best thing in both of your lives, and you vowed to be civil with Tommy for the sake of your baby girl, Everly Marie Lee.

[el-borealis]

Mike had spent months being strong for El through her grief. Yet, in that final fateful moment she uttered the only words that could take away his strength.

A Mike meta from the epilogue of ST3

—-Read at link above or here below—-

Mike had been strong for months now. Quick to give a reassuring smile, a positive spin, or a shoulder to cry on. Pulling out every ounce of energy that he could find within himself to help minimize El’s pain. Some days it was just a positive attitude. Some days it was a light hearted joke. Some days it was a silent hour with his arms around her on the couch, saying nothing at all.

He honestly didn’t know where he’d found the strength. Because if he was honest with himself, which he rarely was at the moment, he was dying inside.

He pushed it aside, yet it plagued him with more pressure each and every day. It felt as though a piece of him was slowly ripping away, pulling from his chest more and more as that fateful date grew nearer on the calendar. It made him sick, his stomach churning in a physical pain since his emotions had nowhere else to go.

Still, he’d kept them hidden from her. Tucked away behind a positive outlook and a straight back. Because there was no way that he was going to burden El with any of it. She had it so much worse. She didn’t need to also find the energy to comfort him. What she needed was his strong shoulder and his reassuring confidence that everything was going to be alright. His firm hand to hold. His promise that things between them wouldn’t change, even within the miles that were about to stretch between them.

She deserved that, so he gave it to her. Through late nights on the Byers’ porch, encouraging her to make new friends in her new town, to watching Miami Vice with her while she sniffled quietly against his shoulder, her usual watching buddy now long gone...

Anything she needed, Mike had been there to deliver. Firm, committed, encouraging. Stable.

...even though he knew he was anything but.

As that final day progressed, the corners of his eyes tightened with each box that he loaded. They pinched in an effort to chase away the tears that he refused to show her. His chest ached with a compounding intensity, growing worse with each tick of the clock. He just hoped that he could keep up the act until she got in that truck, sending her off with a smile on her face and a small ray of hope in her heart.

Of course, that was not the way of things.

Because here she stood, on this final day, in these final moments, stopping his breath as she locked him with her big beautiful eyes and began to dance around the singular topic that was simply too heavy for him to hold.

Those words . Those words that had flown from his mouth with full volume in a moment of utmost frustration and fear. Those words that, after it all, felt too big to utter. Too dangerous. Too painful.

Because he did. Oh God , how he did. More than he could hope to manage. He loved hers dimple when she smiled. Her dry jokes. Her rapt attention when he taught her a new word. He loved her laugh, her blunt honesty, the feel of her hand in his. He loved the way she looked at him, with those sparkling eyes that made him feel like he was exactly where he needed to be.

Because where he needed to be… was by her side… A space that was about to grow astronomically impossible to scale.

Yet here she was, fearless as always in the face of danger and pain, as she introduced those very words to the thin air that laid between them.

She stepped toward him. Surety in her gaze. A soft smile on her lips. A hand to his face as burning words danced upon her voice.

“I love you, too.”

Each word fell upon his ear like a bomb, stunning him with their reverberation. She stole his breath, froze his gaze, and locked his arms with more power than she’d ever thrown at him before.

He saw her move to him like he was watching her in a movie. Her lips were on his, her lashes closing over her eyes, her face serene and honest as she kissed him.

How had he never looked at her like this? So close? The exact sweep of her eyebrows? The small scar on her forehead? The feeling of her nose pressing lightly into his cheek? How had he never taken the time to memorize her? Her every angle? From every view? How her breath felt as it skirted across his lips? The exact way her fingers wove through his hair? The way her eyes eased open as she pulled away, lingering for the softest second in a moment he wished he could bottle and return to forever?

Yet, as quickly as she’d kissed him, she was gone. Already out the door. And it was only in her absence, in the fresh memory of her lips, that the words finally found their way to his heart.

... I love you, too…

Mike shook as tears finally welled in his eyes. His bones stiffened and his lungs heaved. His chest cracked with a fatal blow that he could not contain. It came in a rush, riding on her words like a tidal wave. Everything he’d been trying to hide from. Every feeling he’d been pushing away.

Everything he did not know how to do.

Because how ? How could he handle missing someone as much as he was going to miss her? How would he sleep? How would he eat? How would he move onto the next day? And the next? And the next?

How would he survive without the person that he loved? Who... loved him too?

His lips trembled under the weight of her words. Yet somewhere, hidden deep within his grief, the slightest saddest hint of a smile rose. Unbidden, startling, yet light as air.

She loved him. Somehow, this amazing girl loved him. With his lanky frame and his stupid jokes and his... well… him.

She loved him.

He did not know how to do any of what was being asked of him. It hurt too much to even think of what the next day would feel like.

But he knew one thing.

He would figure it out.

He had to.

Because he loved her. And even if she was a million miles away, he refused to lose her again.

[idiotashton]

trust

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: curse words, douchey boyfriends, angst mixed with fluff, if that counts.

A/N: Okay, so this is my first Luke fic. I worry a lot about getting their ‘voice’ right, so I hope I did him justice. Also this is a lot longer than I was expecting. Only slightly edited, so sorry about grammar and misspellings. Ya girl can only do so much. Apologies in advance about no ‘read more’; I’m on mobile. Part two if requested? Let me know. Fingers crossed it doesn’t suck too bad! Feedback is encouraged!

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Luke Hemmings walked into your life at the perfect time.

It was a Friday night in February about two years ago. You and your group of friends had all gone out for a little dancing, a little drinking, and a ton of nachos. You don’t remember a whole lot from that night. Too many shots of tequila can do that to a girl.

You remember the heels you were wearing were brand new and left giant blisters on your heels, you lost half of your favorite pair of earrings, and you did your first Irish Car Bomb. What you don’t remember was how you you even ended up outside, in the freezing cold, looking for your boyfriend. One second he was there, hand on your hip, next he was gone. You’re don’t remember if you searched the whole bar and decided he had to be outside or if you’d seen him walk out, but you ended up on the slushy sidewalk, in your four and a half inch heels, trying not to break your neck. You don’t remember if you called his name or not.

You do remember walking to your left, to an alley beside the club, only to see your boyfriend pressed up against the brick wall by some girl. Some girl who was not you. You remember thinking how stupid she was for wearing a dress that short in this kind of weather.

You also remember how long you stood there, mouth agape, eyes teary, before turning and walking away. Your head was down, tears hot against your frozen cheeks. You remember walking back in the direction of the club, arms wrapped around yourself, teeth chattering. But, most of all, you remember the body that was suddenly in front of you, and how fucking warm it was.

Their hands are gentle on your arms and it takes you a second to break your gaze with the ground before looking up at them. It’s a guy, blonde hair wild, eyes blue and worried. His mouth is moving but the blood in your ears is rushing too loud. You close your eyes and shake your head.

“I’m sorry, what?” you ask, voice hoarse. You see three guys behind him, all as equally worried as the man in front of you.

“I asked if you were okay.” He has an accent and it makes you tilt your head.

“You’re Australian?” You ask quietly. The question must surprise him, because he looks over his shoulder at his friends. He looks back at you, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

“Yeah, I’m Australian.” You nod, his face blurry from a fresh onslaught of tears.

“That must be nice. And warm. Must be real warm.” You feel his hands start to rub up and down your arms, and it sends chills over your body. He stands up to his full height and you realize how tall he actually is. Even in your heels, you only come up to his shoulders.

“Let’s get you inside, yeah?” His hand is in between your shoulder blades and he’s leading you back into the club. “You got friends here? A boyfriend? Anyone?” He asks, voice gentle. You feel new tears run down your face. “No boyfriend,” your voice a little bitter as you wipe under your eyes, “just my friends.”

You press up onto your toes, speaking into his ear, “We had a booth in the back.” He stands up again and glances around, seeing the booths. He’s taking your hand and pulling you through the crowd. His friends are close behind. One of them, the one with glasses, keeps close to your back.

You all reach the back of the club where they keep the tables and booths and you look at all of them before spotting the one with your friends, down at the end on your right. You point, and his hand is between your shoulder blades again and it’s warm and firm and you don’t mind it. He walks you both up to your table and suddenly, you’re swarmed by all your friends and they’re asking questions quicker than you can answer them. Eventually, the all quiet down and you look down at your heels, fidgeting with your fingers. “I saw Josh outside... with another girl.” You say, quietly. Your friends gasp and share incredulous looks. It makes your face flush in embarrassment. You really don’t want to deal with this now, with all of them.

So instead, you roll back your shoulders, stand up a little straighter, and breathe out a long breath. You reach through your friends, to the table behind them, grabbing a napkin and dabbing your face with it. “He’s not worth the tears anyway. I’ll deal with it later. Right now? Vodka. Lots of vodka.” Your friend, Cora, is nodding, leaving to go to the bar. You make eye contact with all your friends, assuring them silently that you’re okay, before turning to the man who helped you. He has his back turned to you, in hush discussion with his three friends. You put your hand on his shoulder, asking for his attention. He turns and his eyes are still as blue as earlier, but less worried. You give him a soft smile.

“Thank you. For, um, helping me.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, nodding, and you realize he wasn’t listening as you explained your situation to your friends. “I lost my boyfriend. And then I found him, tongue deep in another girl, so... ex-boyfriend, I guess.” You rock back on your heels, pulling your lips into your mouth. His eyes widen and his mouth opens in silent understanding. “Yup. So if you hadn’t found me, I’d probably still be standing outside, freezing my ass off and crying icicles, so I appreciate it.” You try to give him a big smile, try and make light of the situation, but his eyes look at you sadly. Like he knows the hurt, the pain you’re feeling.

You look over his shoulder at his friends. “If you guys don’t have anywhere to be, why don’t you join us? I owe you all a drink.” He goes to decline, shaking his head, but his friend, the one with warm, brown eyes, slings his arm over his friend’s shoulder, answering for him.

“We’d love to, babe.” He grins and you can’t help but smile back. His gaze shifts to over your shoulder and you gaze behind you, seeing Cora has returned with the drinks and his eyes are all over her. You chuckle before turning back to him, leaning in, and whispering, “She’s single, ya know.” His eyes light up and he’s gone. You look back up at the man with the soft, sad eyes. He’s looking at you, studying you. You hold out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” He hesitates before slipping his hand into yours. It’s still warm. He gives your hand two gentle shakes before pulling away and shoving his hand back into his pocket.

“I’m Luke.” He points to the man who went to talk to Cora. “That hound dog is Calum. He’s harmless, just very flirty when he’s drunk.” He gestures to the two men behind him. “That’s Mike and that’s Ash.” The man with glasses tips two fingers off his forehead, like a salute, in your direction and then the other man, who looks a little glassy eyed, gives you a closed mouth smile and nods his head at you. You smile at both of them and throw a thumb over your shoulder. “Help yourselves, guys.” They look at each other before heading to the table, eyes on the multiple orders of nachos.

You follow them, taking a seat at the edge of the U-shaped booth. You slide in, looking back at Luke, before patting the seat next to you. He looks down at his boots before walking over and plopping himself in the seat. He spreads his left leg out under the table before crossing his right one over it, throwing an arm over the back of the booth. It’s casual and you’re immediately comforted by his closeness.

You lean in, your voice short of shouting, “So, what are you doing so far away from home?” He turns his body towards you, nodding his head towards the other boys, “We’re in a band and we’re on the North American leg of our tour.” You jut your bottom lip out and raise your eyebrows, a surprised look on your face. “No shit. Huh. Well, would I have heard of you guys? What’re you called?” A voice answers to your right.

“We’re called 5 Seconds of Summer.” You look over to Ashton, holding a drink in his hand. You’re racking you brain, trying to figure out if you’ve heard of them, when you’re friend’s girlfriend, Ruth, speaks up.

“Oh, I know you guys! Youngblood, yeah?” They all nod, and she smiles. “I love that song. I put it on my work out playlist real quick. Makes cardio go a lot faster.” Ash smiles and tilts his drink in her direction, a thank you. Then she’s leaning forward, asking Ash all kinds of questions about writing lyrics and melodies. You’re tying to listen when you hear a voice in your left ear. “Shouldn’t you be more upset?” You turn to Luke.

“What do you mean?” He shrugs and picks a random glass off the table, sniffing it before setting it back down.

“I just know that I found my girlfriend making out with someone else, I’d be angry, I’d be sad, but I definitely wouldn’t be in the mood to stay out and have fun. That’s for damn sure.” You look down at your fingers fidgeting in your lap, biting your bottom lip.

He was right. You were sad, but you think it has more to do with the sudden betrayal, rather than actually losing him. When you first started dating Josh, you knew it would never be long term. He was never really the monogamous type. Your relationship with him had all to do with convenience and very little to do with love. Granted, it started out genuine, but somewhere along the line, it just became very nonchalant.

You looked over at Luke, his eyes curious. “It was never super serious with Josh. We’d barely been together a year. At some point, our relationship just lost all of the spark, ya know? It was just...nothing.” You’re silent for a beat, letting the words saturate the air. “I know that probably sounds really fucked up, but it’s not like we didn’t truly love each other at one point. We did. It just wasn’t meant to last, I don’t know.” You shrug your shoulders, eyes blurry again. You lean your head back, wishing the tears away. “I just hoped that if he ever met someone he wanted to be with, he’d at least respect me enough to come to me first. Not do shit behind my back.” You wipe at the tears threatening to drop of your jaw. “I feel so stupid.” It’s silent between you and Luke; he stares at the table and you stare at the ceiling and, oddly enough, it’s a comfortable silence. “You shouldn’t feel stupid.” His voice is almost lost amongst the chatter and music shaking the room. You just turn to face him, waiting for him to continue.

“I was with this girl, a while ago. It was great in the beginning. We were happy and in love and it was fucking incredible to have someone that loved you for all that you were. I think that’s why I let it go on for so long. I became addicted to that feeling that you get when you’re validated by someone, you know? My friends all hated her, they kept telling me she was bad for me, how she was using me. I refused to believe it. I wanted that validation so badly, I was willing to ruin everything other relationship in my life.” His eyes aren’t focused on anything in the room; they’re focused on a memory that you can’t see.

He clears his throat, snapping back into reality. “Anyway, long story, short, I finally realized what kind of person she was and I kicked her out of my life. And I felt so dumb after I found out because, once I saw it, it was so fucking obvious. It took me a long time to figure out that my willingness to see the good in people didn’t mean I was asking for this. It was her objectifying that willingness that ruined everything.” He turns to you, eyes blue and red all at the same time. “You’re not stupid for being kind. He’s stupid for taking advantage of that kindness. Those are the worst people. Trust me.”

You open your mouth to respond when someone walks up to the table, grabbing your attention. It’s Josh and you can’t help when your jaw drops a little. He’s grinning and dancing a little to the song that’s playing. He leans over the table, grabbing a nacho and shoving it in his mouth. The entire table is staring at him, mouths agape, eyes wide. He picks up a glass and pours in some water from one of the pitchers on the table. As he takes a sip, he looks up, realizing the whole table is staring at him, quiet.

He scrunches up his face in confusion. “What are you looking at?” He searches the face of every person at the table for answers before letting his eyes land on you. “Babe? What’s going on?” You can’t help it when your jaw clenches at the term of endearment.

“Well, it’s just that we were all so worried about you, Josh! I mean, you disappear into thin air and then, when I finally find you, some girl is performing CPR on you! Honestly, she looked like she was going pretty hard, so, of course, I thought you were a lost cause. So, you can understand my surprise when you show back up here, good as new.” Your arms are crossed over your chest, an irritated look on your face. Josh’s face looks pale and gobsmacked. You can’t help but feel a little satisfied at his face, but then you start to feel a little bad. Neither of you were happy in the relationship you found yourselves stuck in, so you shouldn’t make him feel too bad for finding that missing emotion somewhere else.

You tap Luke’s thigh twice, signaling to him that you wanted out of the booth. He unfolds himself from the booth and you slide out. “We should talk, yeah?” You say, quietly, next to Josh’s ear. You take his hand and pull him towards the bathrooms. You glance over your shoulder and give the table a small smile, hoping to convey that you two would be okay. You catch Luke’s eye last and it was difficult to place the emotion on his face.

You pull Josh behind you, into the hallway leading down to the bathrooms. The music is just a quiet buzz here and it’s easier to hear each other. You decide you need to treat this like a band-aid. Just rip it off, bear the pain, and hope it doesn’t take off too much skin in the process.

“Listen. I love you, but it’s a been a long time since I’ve been in love with you. And I don’t think it’s either one of our faults. We just... lost interest. And instead of talking about it, we just let it get buried. It was just convenient. Convenient to have someone to take to weddings or to work parties, someone to fall asleep next to, someone to lean on. It was useful, but not love. We both can’t go on like this, Josh. We need to let go now. While it’s easy. Before we take it too far and the next time I catch you making out with some chick, it’s at our wedding.”

You’re still holding his hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. He’s staring at the floor, his brows furrowed. It throws you a little, the distressed look on his face. You’d thought he’d be happier. I mean, you’re upset, too, but you know this what you both need to do. You reach out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, rubbing his back soothingly. It’s silent for a beat more before you hear his low tone.

“You wanna fuckin’ do this now?” Your eyes widen. He’s angry. You never expected him to be angry about this. You pull back, stepping away until your back hits the wall behind you. He looks up at you and his face is shaded in animosity. “Do you know how long I put up with your bullshit? Months! Months of you choosing work over me, choosing your friends over me, hell! Choosing to do the laundry instead of putting some effort into your goddamn relationship.” You are well and truly stunned. You can feel the heat in your cheeks.

“You’re joking, right? My fault? I didn’t see you planning any dinners or surprise weekend trips!” You take a breath, closing your eyes, to try and get your bearings. This didn’t need to be a fight, just a conversation. You lower your tone, eyes soft.

“Josh. This is both of our faults, okay? I accept just as much of the blame. We just didn’t take care of our relationship like we needed to and we let it fall apart. Let’s just accept it for what it is.” You want to put your hands on him, to try and comfort him, but you think it might just make him more upset, so you keep your hands at your sides, balled into fists.

“Y’alright?” You whip your head to your right only to see Luke at the end of the hallway. Calum is behind him, hands behind his back. You look at Josh, who’s angry gaze is still on you, before looking back at them. “We’re all good, Luke, thanks,” you say quietly, giving him a smile and you know instantly it doesn’t cover the worry in your eyes and you know Luke can see it. So can Calum, you guess, by the way he takes a couple steps forward, face hard. Josh’s eyes fly to Luke and then back to you. He scoffs.

“What? You think I’m gonna put my hands on her or something?!” Everything about Josh screams furious and, as he takes a few steps towards Luke, you shoot your hand out to grab his arm.

“Josh. It’s fine. They just wanna make sure I’m okay.” You try hard to keep your voice level and soft, but your heart is pounding frantically against your chest.

“Who even are these guys?” You’re mouth opens then closes, silent, not really sure how to answer that. The truth sounds a little weird, but you decide to just go with it.

“I met them tonight,” your voice is quiet and a little shaky. Josh turns to you, taking a couple steps towards you, and you mentally chastise yourself when your eyes drop to the floor.

You’ve never, never been scared of Josh nor have you ever worried about him putting his hands on you in a violent way. But, right now, with his face red and his hands balled into fists and the amount of alcohol running through his veins, you’re not really sure what’s going to come of this. It’s unknown territory to you.

“Oh, you met them tonight? Well, isn’t that just wonderful. So you’re allowed to meet guys, but I’m not allowed to find myself a quick fuck? Lord knows my girlfriend ain’t gonna give me shit!” Your hand is already back by your side before you even realized you’d slapped him. The sting comes fast and you flex your fingers, letting out a shaky breath.

“Listen up, Josh, because I am only gonna say this once. I am sorry I let it go this far. We should’ve figured out this wasn’t going to work a long time ago and put an end to it. And I’m sorry that you felt like you were being ignored. I take full responsibility for that. But that does not give you a valid excuse to be a fucking asshole, talking to me like that, treating me like a piece of crap! If you were unhappy, you should have come to me so I can try and help fix it. Or, hell, even end it! Instead you make out with other girl’s while you’re out with my friends. And that, Josh, is your fault.” You’re breathing is shallow and you can feel the tears on your hot cheeks, but your hands are no longer shaking so you take that as a good sign.

“I was really hoping we could be friend once we broke up, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. At least for now.” You reach out, putting your hand gently on his shoulder. “Bye, Josh.”

You turn to leave and, immediately, Luke is there and his hand is back between your shoulder blades and you feel the tension melt off your shoulders. He leads you out of the hallway and back towards the table. You can’t help glancing over your shoulder, but all you see is Calum, head bopping to the song playing. He meets your eyes and pulls a funny face. You let out a laugh and wipe at the wetness under your eyes. Luke leads you back to your table and it’s empty.

“Ash and Mikey got them all out the dance floor,” Luke explains. “Which ones yours?” He asks, pointing the the pile of jackets hanging on the back of the booth. You point to a black bomber jacket and leans around the table, easily grabbing it with his long arms. He turns back to you, holding your jacket up. When you don’t move, he raises his eyebrows. You slowly turn your back to him and he helps you into your jacket. He spins you back around, cautious of your heels, and zips you up. You tilt your head up at him, “What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna take you home. You’ve had enough abuse for one day, I think.” His words hit you hard. This man, who you only met a couple hours ago, can already read you better than Josh could after a year. Hell, better than most of your ex-boyfriends. You look up at him as he talks to Calum, telling him to let your friends know he’s gonna get an Uber and take you home, when your view goes blurry.

You’re crying again. You sniffle and rub your nose, wrapping your arms around your body. Your gaze is out of focus, staring at nothing, as tears drip down your face. Then Luke’s blue eyes are in your field of vision and you’re focusing on them. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, his voice soft. His hands are rubbing your arms like he did earlier and the same chill breaks out over your body. “What’s wrong?” You close your eyes at his question, making more tears fall. You don’t know if you can speak around the lump in your throat, so you just shake your head.

He pauses before nodding. He pulls his phone out, asks for your address, and it takes him less than a minute to order an Uber. “Okay, it’ll be here soon. Let’s get outta here.” He takes ahold of your hand and leads you out of the club. You spot your friends dancing to some remix and you make eye contact with a few of them; Cora and Calum are attempting to do the robot, albeit terribly, and you see Ash trying to start a conga line, which makes you smile, Ruth and her girlfriend, Eva, are voguing with Michael and it makes you smile. Even though it’s been the longest night of your life, you’re happy your drama hasn’t effecting their night out.

It’s takes you both a while to fight your way through the crowds, but then you’re outside and you breathe in the sharp, cold air and it’s refreshing. It’s quiet between the two of you as you wait for the Uber. You shove your hands deep into your coat’s pocket, shifting from foot to foot, to try and keep your blood pumping. You glance up at Luke, who’s hands are cupped around his mouth as he blows hot air into them. A thought hits you.

“When was the first time you saw snow?” You ask, your voice a little hoarse, turning to face him and subtly taking a couple steps towards him, trying to radiate in his warmth. His mouth splits into a gigantic grin and it makes you smile.

“The boys and I went to London to write and record our first album, right? And we get there and I have this real high expectation of snow. Like ‘oh it’s gonna be so great!’ But we get there and it’s all dirty slush on the sides of the streets and it’s so utterly disappointing. The first couple weeks, I was like seriously upset. First real experience with snow and it was horrible. Anyway, couple weeks into living in London; the boys and I are working on the songs, writing songs, recording them, writing melodies and it’s not unusual for us to spend all day in a recording booth. So it’s one of those days and we finally finish up around 1 in the morning. We pack up our stuff to head home and when we get outside, the world is just blanketed in snow.”

You’re smiling as you watch his face, truly reliving the memory. It makes your heart swell and you don’t feel as cold anymore.

“We all stop dead in our tracks and just look around us. There’s still snow falling and we’re staring up into the sky like it’s a fucking miracle or something. And we’re crunching through it and sticking our tongues out and Ash starts making snow balls and throwing them at us. Mike tries to make a snowman and Cal just drops to the ground to make a snow angel. It’s 1 o’clock in the morning and we’re acting like kids in the street because of snow. We could’ve spent all night out there.” He shrugs and digs his hands into his pockets. He’s looking up at the sky expectantly, as if recalling the memory might make something happen tonight.

“Honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories of us. Sometimes I get a little angry that we don’t have that captured on camera somewhere, so I can watch it on repeat. But then I realize the reason it’s probably so special is because it’s not on camera. It was just the four of us, playing in the snow, acting like kids.” You reach over and rest your hand on his arm. “That’s a beautiful memory. Thank you for sharing that with me.” He looks down at you and you’re a lot closer than you thought you were and you watch his eyes drop to your lips. You’re about to press up on your toes when he turns his head, glancing down the street.

“Uber’s here,” he says, clearing his throat. You try to hide your disappointment, shaking your hair out of your face. Of course this hot rockstar doesn’t want to make out with a girl he saw crying three separate times tonight.

A white SUV pulls up and Luke is pulling open the door, leaning his head and saying a couple things to the driver, before turning to you and holding out his hand. You hesitate to take it, but then you remember how sore your feet are and how that last tequila shot had you dizzy. You don’t want to risk falling on your face. Slipping your hand into his rough one, you step up to open door and slide into the back seat. You greet the driver quietly, as Luke gets in next to you, shutting the door.

You put your seatbelt on and practically melt into the seat. The car is so warm, you start to feel a little hot in your jacket, so you pull the zipper down a little, turning to look out the window as the car starts moving.

Thankfully, the Uber driver isn’t a chatty one, so the car is clouded in a comfortable silence. In your alcohol induced daze, with the gentle movement of the car and the soft jazz playing, you doze off. When you open your eyes later, the scenery outside the window is much more familiar. You sit up, yawning, stretching your arms out in front of you. You tilt your neck left then right, cracking out the kinks. That’s when you remember Luke is in the car with you. You realize you should say something. This is exactly a normal night out for anyone, let alone some guy you just met.

“Hey,” your voice is soft, to not disturb the peace in the car, “I just wanted to say thank you. I know you probably had better plans tonight then to help some sad, crying girl break up with her sad excuse of a boyfriend.” You shrug and keep your gaze on your hands, playing with the few rings you’d put on earlier. “Especially since you’re a damn rockstar or whatever, you could be doing anything tonight. Fuck, you could be doing anyone. And you’re here, helping me. Even if you’re just doing this out of pity or charity or whatever, I just want you to know it means a lot to me.”

The words are just spilling out of your mouth at this point. “I don’t really let other people in. At least, to help me deal with struggles. I always thought it was supposed to be handled by yourself, alone in your room, surrounded by darkness, ya know? And my friends have been around a long time, they know that when shit happens, I go off the radar for a few days, to figure it out. They offer to help, to be my shoulder, to ease the pain, but I just need to do it myself. I don’t know. It’s just how I’m wired.”

You want to look up at him, see his eyes, to let the blue of his eyes calm you, but you don’t. You try not to see anything, focusing on the darkness of the car. “But you show up and there’s something about you, Luke, that lets me trust you. I don’t know what it is.” You huff out a laugh. “I’m sure this sounds totally crazy, especially since I just met you a few hours ago, but I just wanted to let you know how deeply I appreciate this. Appreciate you.”

You take a deep breath through your nose and slowly let it out, trying to slow your heart. Honest to god, you think he’s going to be asleep when you look up, he’s been so quiet. So when you turn your head and his blue eyes are on you, hard and focused, you gasp a little.

“Oh...you were so quiet. I kinda thought you were sleeping.” Your voice is a gentle whisper. He doesn’t say anything just looks at you for a beat before turning his head to face forward. You let your shoulders drop and you close your eyes. It’s quiet again and you stare out the window before his voice cracks to life.

“I have trouble letting people in, too.” You whip your head in his direction, surprised he’s actually responding to you. Or even that he was listening at all. “With my job, you figure out fast that people have their own secret agendas when they meet you. They want something they think you can provide and, more often than not, they realize you can’t and they get angry and blame you. So, you think you’re building this friendship and, in reality, they’re fucking you over.”

You’re afraid to breathe. You were simply thanking him and now he’s opening up about something that effects his day to day. It feels wholly intimate and you’re afraid any noise might break the spell. “It makes you guarded. Especially with my ex, she was the last brick in this huge wall I built around myself to keep me safe, keep me sane. I have to wonder, every time someone new shows up in my life, what they’re really in it for. Are they there for the free concert tickets or chartered jets or the free swag or are they there for me? Makes you start to think that maybe you’re not good enough. Take away all the bullshit and you’re left with just who you are as a person, are you still worth their time?”

There’s a few tears running down his face now and you itch to wipe them away, to console him somehow. His hands are gripped into white knuckle fists and you’re surprised his voice is so level. “The boys brought me out tonight to get me laid. Might be too much info, but yeah. They think I need a ‘release’.” His use of air quotes makes you giggle, which you try and hide behind your hand. He smiles in response.

“Not gonna lie, it’s been a hot minute for me. They keep telling me to get out of my head and not worry about what these girls want from me. Just flirt and buy them drinks and let it happen.” He shrugs and looks out the window. “It’s just hard for me ‘cause I built that brick wall pretty damn solid. Every girl I talked to wanted me to buy us a bottle or have me bring them back to the hotel or they have this sparkle in their eye that looks like, if they play this right, will have won the lottery. It was just all such a turn off. Not only to feel like I was being used, but to use them.”

“So I wanted to leave. I was over it. I was done. They boys and I were leaving when we saw you outside. You looked up at me with those eyes...” He trails off as he looks over to you, meeting your eyes desperately; almost as if to see if they matched the ones in his memory. “They were so sad and heartbroken and...” He hesitates, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “They reminded me of what my eyes look like. And I decided that if I can’t help myself, I can at least try and help you. So I got you inside, back to your table, and I was gonna leave it at that. Let your friends take care of you. I was telling the boys we needed to leave quick before any of your friends recognized us when you tapped my shoulder. You said the saddest thing I ever heard and then you tried to follow it up with a joke. You tried to minimize the pain you were feeling by trying to make it funny. God, if that didn’t sound exactly like me...” His laugh is cold and empty and he shakes his head, his curls catching in the light of the street lamps passing by.

“I have to admit something. When I sat down in that booth, I was gonna just have one drink and leave. Then you asked me what I was doing so far from home. I was gonna lie. I usually lie. Then I just didn’t. I was honest. And I realized I don’t have a wall around you. It just didn’t exist. There was something so inherent about you, so endearing, so warm, I wanted to stay. I wanted to be honest and open. I wanted... I wanted to use you, Y/N.”

It’s the first time he’s said your name and you don’t miss the way your spine trembles at it. But then you’re confused, tilting your head, a question on your lips. “I’d forgotten what it feels like to be me with someone. Everyone around me has been there since the beginning, they’re practically family, so it’s easy. Then you walked into my life, cold and crying, and it was easy again. I want that ease back in my life.” You open and close your mouth, not really sure what to say. What was he saying? Friends? More than that? As if sensing your confusion, he’s quick to continue.

“I’m not asking you to sleep with me! Wow. Sorry, I’m not sure I’m ready for anything more serious than a friendship. All I know is that I would love to have you in my life, in any aspect you’re willing to have me.” His face is serious and you feel your cheeks heat up at the look he’s giving you. You’re quiet, knowing on your bottom lip, thinking through every possible outcome. Friends with a rock star. That seemed like a lot to take on. Especially after the night you just had. But you liked Luke. You wanted to be friends with him. Hell, maybe more than friends if the way he was starting at you had any indication. The question was if you chose not to be friends with him for all the same reasons people try and be friends with him, does that make you as bad as them?

The car pulls to a stop outside your place and you look up at your apartment building then back to Luke. “Listen. We both have baggage. We both have trust issues. You’re always traveling, I live here year round. You have hoards of fans following you around all the time. Not to mention the beautiful women you see in your job every day. I don’t know if I can do that. It’s a shit ton to take on.”

Luke’s staring at his boots and nodding, digging his right thumb nail into the bed under his left thumb nail, aggressively. You shrug and slap a hand on his thigh, “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, should it? After all, I very recently decided to trust people. Let them help me heal, help me with my struggles.” You can fight the grin that spreads across your face or the laugh you let burst out of your mouth at Luke’s surprised face. “That was mean. I’m sorry.” You don’t realize you’re rubbing his thigh until you see him staring at your hand. You clear your throat and pull it away quickly.

You lean over to the front seat, thanking the driver, and you push open the car door and step one foot outside. You look back at Luke, tilting your head to your apartment building to your left. “Why don’t we start with a cup of coffee?” Luke’s grin is infectious and you hold your hand out to him, wiggling your fingers a little. He takes your hand, fingers gently wrapping around yours and then you’re both sliding out of the car and scurrying into the safety of your building.

—————————————————————

That was two years ago and now you’re watching Luke unpack a box of plates, setting them in a cabinet, in your new home together. You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, head resting between his shoulder blades.

“I love you, Sunny,” you whisper, using the nickname you gave him soon after that day in the club. You two had been on FaceTime, him somewhere in Maryland and you in your apartment, drinking rum together, when you exclaimed, very intoxicated, that he looked like a sunflower. It just...stuck. He rubs your arms wrapped around his body, looking over his shoulder at you.

“I love you, too, baby.” He turns in your arms and you waste no time pushing up onto your toes to press a kiss to his lips. It deepens quickly, Luke hoisting you up to sit on the island directly behind you. He settles in between your legs, hands on your hips. He pulls ways, a smirk on his lips, before pulling your shirt down slightly so his lips can bite a bruise into your collar bone. You groan, throwing your head back, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging. A groan rips out of Luke’s mouth, against your skin. He nips you one last time, licking his tongue over the hickey, and pulls away. Even though his eyes are dark, you still find a familiar calmness in their blue.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.” You give him a smirk of your own before shrugging, nonchalantly. You grip the hair at the back of his neck, pressing your lips lightly to one, two, three spots on the column of his throat. You work your lips up to his ear and whisper, voice soft, “I know, Sunny, but...I trust you.” When you pull back on meet his gaze, there’s a love under the dark. A love that’s gotten you both where you are today. A love that sought out that worst parts of yourself and loved them anyway. A love that broke down walls. A love that’s warm. A love that wakes you up in morning, with coffee and gentle kisses. A love that brings out the best in you.

Luke grins and presses his hand to your face, rubbing his thumb over the swell of your cheek. You tilt your head into his palm, eyes closing. You hum, content to stay like this all day. Suddenly, he’s pulling his hand away and he’s gone from between your legs. You blink open your eyes and look around for him. He’s behind you, digging in a box on the stairs. “Honestly. Can’t that wait? We were in the middle of something.”

He digs a little more before finding what he was looking for. He walks back over to you, hand behind his back. Standing in front of you, he puts his free hand in yours, pulling you off the counter to stand in front of him. “Close your eyes,” he requests, voice a little shaky. You must hesitate because he rolls his eyes, “Come on! You said you trusted me!” You huff and close your eyes. It’s not even a few seconds before you hear his voice agains. “Okay. Open.”

You open your eyes and instantly find your vision blurry with tears. “I was gonna wait until we were officially moved in, but this feels like the right moment.” He holds up the black box, holding a simple silver band with a beautiful Opal stone resting in the middle, closer to you. “Marry me, Y/N. Let’s put our hearts in each other’s hands for life.” You’re crying and you can’t find your voice. You find yourself kneeling down in front of him, taking his head in your hands. You press a soft kiss to his lips, leaning your forehead against his. You look back at the ring, totally astonished this is even happening.

You look up at him, soft smile on your face, tears in your eyes and you say the first thing that comes to mind. “I trust you.”

[tangledup-andtwisted]

Locked In a Haze

Leather Part 3

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! I know you guys have been waiting a really long time for this, and I’m sorry for the wait. It’s pretty long, it’s almost nine pages in docs. ANyways - I hope you guys love it!

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), dirty talk

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4  Part 5

If you thought your relationship with Luke was strained before, it was now hanging by a thread. You thought you were saving yourself the argument by leaving that morning. Apparently, that was the wrong move, the usually fiery frontman was cold and aloof with you, brushing past you like you didn't exist. He no longer sought you out with insults or jabs. He just ignored you completely.

You were confused by his actions, but you were more confused by how affected you were by them. You had, wrongly, thought that Luke leaving you alone for the rest of the tour was what you wanted, but you find yourself missing his dark humour and disarmingly boyish smile.

At first, you were worried Luke would say something about that night to the guys, specifically Michael. If Michael found out you slept with Luke you’d never live it down. That played a huge part in you leaving before Luke, and the rest of the band woke up. The awkward ride from the hotel was bad enough, you didn’t want to imagine the aftermath of Michael finding you in bed with Luke. You replayed the morning over in your head wondering if there was anything you could have done differently.

                                                  ~ ~ ~

You and the boys were all on your way to breakfast and you were exhausted from the night before.  You mostly just kept quiet, Michael knows you really well and you were worried you’d do or say something that would make him suspicious. For some reason though, all the guys seemed focused on and slightly annoyed with Luke. At first, you were confused, but then Calum opened his mouth.

“Busy night last night, eh Lukey?” Calum smirked over at the frontman. From where you were huddled against Mike in the back of the van you could see Luke’s shoulders immediately tense. You held your breath waiting to hear his response, but he didn’t say anything, he simply shrugged his shoulders. You’d hoped that’d be the end of it, but it wasn’t.

“Aw, c’mon Luke, we all heard it,” Michael added from beside you. You groaned internally wishing he would shut up.  Ashton and Calum began moaning Luke’s name in high pitched voices, causing you to hide your face in Michael’s side so none of the guys would notice the shade of cherry your face had become.

“We’re just wondering where you found the time for a hookup, seeing as none of us went out last night,” continued Calum. You peeked over at Luke, wondering briefly why he hadn’t thrown you to the wolves yet.

“Had a couple drinks at the hotel bar,” he lied smoothly, “didn’t know I’d be interrogated about it later,” he said, eyeing Calum as he put his headphones in, effectively ending the conversation.

“You okay, Y/N?” Michael asked you.

“I uh - yeah? Why?” you managed to string together the words.

“Dunno, you just seemed kinda uncomfortable, I guess?” he gives you a strange look.

“I just don’t love hearing about Luke’s sex life this early in the morning, or you know at all,” you sniped back, hoping he’d leave it at that, and luckily he did.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

A loud noise from behind you shook you out of your reverie, one of the newer crew members had dropped some equipment he had been carrying around. He started to quickly gather up the things he dropped, a blush staining his face, you smiled kindly at him to hopefully put him at ease.

Tonight was the last show before a week-long break in LA, you wouldn’t have to see Luke for an entire 6 days. The only break in your respite being a friend’s birthday party Michael had asked you to attend with him in fear of running into his ex. You’d agreed, of course, knowing it would make Michael more comfortable if you were there for moral support.

You were excited for the break from touring, not only to escape the awkwardness any kind of interaction with Luke but also to sleep in your own bed for a little while. Well, not your own bed. You were staying at Michael’s place while you were in LA because you couldn't live there full time, it just wasn't your scene. You preferred your calmer, regular city life. He’d been trying to talk you into getting a small apartment for visits but to no avail.

The show went by pretty fast, the guys were amazing as usual, and the fans were overjoyed. You were just exhausted. You barely remember the ride back to the hotel. When morning came you were more than ready to get on the plane back to LA.

Once you landed you and Mike headed straight back to his house to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Michael had a couple days of rehearsal and some writing for the next album, but for the most part, you two stayed inside gaming and binging Netflix. Ashton came by a couple times, once with Calum in tow, hoping to drag you and Michael out on a hike or to a yoga class. While his efforts were in vain, you appreciate him checking in on you guys, and encouraging you to be healthier, even if he was unsuccessful. The majority of the week went by quicker than you’d like, and the birthday party was right around the corner.

When the night of the party finally came around you were nervous. You had spent a solid 5 days trying to forget Luke even existed, to no avail. In between episodes of Brooklyn 99 and your next takeout order, you'd find your mind drifting to those striking blue eyes. If Michael had noticed your daydreaming he hadn’t said anything. It wasn’t that you had a crush on Luke, no definitely not. He was just gorgeous and apparently amazing in bed. It’s not like you had started to actually like him, he was still an arrogant prick. Sleeping with him hadn’t changed that, if anything it had made it more apparent. You just didn’t know how you or your body would react seeing Luke again, especially since he’d be all dressed up and looking more gorgeous than usual, damn him.

Your party attire consisted of a very short and shimmery dress, you didn’t go out partying very often but you loved getting dressed up. By the time you and Michael show up to the party the other three boys are at least two rounds in. Ash and Calum are in the middle of a large group of people, socializing. Ashton seems to be telling a story. At first, you don’t spot Luke, not that you’re looking for him. After a few minutes you spot him talking to some girls you recognized as Instagram ‘influencers’. You roll your eyes and gesture to Mike that you’re gonna grab you guys some drinks from the bar. You’d only have one or two drinks, you’d decided because you’re not overly fond of being drunk. Once you make your way back to Michael he asks if it’s okay for him to go mingle. You tell him to go ahead, though admittedly you’re a bit annoyed that he dragged you to this party where you know no one but the boys and crew, just to ditch you. But you had only come to ensure his comfort and if he feels fine, then you can relax. Your plan was to hang out in the shadows, avoiding unwanted small talk. Or that had been your plan until you felt a body pressed up against yours.

“Hey, doll. I’m surprised you’re here” Luke whispers in your ear. You immediately tense. “Aww, play nice kitten, I’m just teasing,” he smirks at you, brushing his hand across the exposed part of your back making you shiver, before making his way back into the crowd, leaving you confused. Not just because he’s being openly flirty, but also because he hadn’t talked to you in almost two weeks. You need another drink, you decide, trying to get through the dancing bodies, to the bar.  Just as you went to hand the bartender money for your overpriced drink she simply shakes her head, gesturing to a man standing at the end of the bar. You weren’t certain how you were supposed to react, you definitely weren’t looking for a hookup, other than your confusing situation with Luke you generally tried to avoid one night stands. You’d never really been in this situation before because you don’t really go out drinking. You figured you should at least say thank you, so you walked over to where the man was standing. A smile immediately overtook his face, but it faded slightly when you merely said thank you for the drink. He tried to engage you in conversation and you tried to remain polite.

Somehow you two ended up on the dance floor, even though you hate dancing. You didn’t really know how to say no, and you were really uncomfortable. Once the first song was over and you were hoping you could go back to hiding on the sidelines, but the crowd of writhing bodies made it impossible for you to leave. You tried to tell the man you were dancing with that you wanted to sit down, but he claimed he couldn't hear you and dragged you farther onto the dance floor, drinks in hand. You didn’t know that your discomfort was so outwardly obvious until you felt a familiar presence.

“Hey, man, mind if I cut in?” you hear Luke’s voice over the bass-heavy music. You don’t hear the other guy’s response, but his demeanour changes immediately, getting more and more aggressive. You couldn’t quite make out Luke’s response, but the man clearly did not like what Luke had to say, because he sent his drink hurling through the air, drenching Luke. You could feel the anger radiating off of his body, you were worried that he was going to do something stupid, but he simply called a member of security over and had the aggressive guy removed. You turn, planning on thanking him for saving you, but you’re met with an empty space, and you see Luke’s towering frame making its way to the bathrooms. You quickly follow the path he made through the crowd and slip inside the large one person bathroom.

“Is there a reason you’re following me into the bathroom?” you’re met with steely blue eyes, connected to a very shirtless Luke. His shirt sitting by the sink, where he’d probably been rinsing the alcohol out of it.

“I just wanted to thank you for helping me,” you murmur, feeling shy all of a sudden. You lean back against the closed door, trying to distance yourself from his harsh gaze.

“Couldn’t do that after I finish cleaning myself up, doll?” He starts getting closer, crowding you against the door, and you’re having flashbacks to backstage and leather pants. “Or did you follow me in here hoping I’d fuck you again, hmm?” You shiver at his words, but you try to cover it up by tensing your entire body.

“No, no that’s not––” your words die in your throat when one of Luke’s hands lands on your waist.

“Are you here to show me just how thankful you can be?” he smirks down at you, running his thumb over your lower lip. And just like, as if the spell he had over you had been broken, you glare up at him.

“You’re such jerk, honestly Luke,” you try to move away from him, but you’re stuck where you are, pressed between the door and his naked chest.

“Oh, I see, you’re gonna run away again,” his eyes flash at you, seemingly annoyed. At first, you’re confused, but then it dawns on you.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to stay for a morning cuddle and breakfast in bed?” you scoff at him. The atmosphere in the small room changes quickly,  hostility replacing Luke’s flirty tone.

“You didn’t have to leave in the middle of the night like… like––”

“Like a one night stand? Because that’s exactly what it was Luke, we aren’t together. Don’t get confused. We fucked, it happened, but it's nothing more than––” your heated rant is cut off by his aggressive kiss. You should have been surprised, but you weren’t. You should have pushed him away but you didn’t. You couldn’t help but surrender to him. You could taste the tequila he’d been drenched in earlier. And you know you’re gonna regret this come morning, but sex with Luke was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was raw and angry and honestly the best sex you’d ever had. You can feel his hands back at your hips pulling your body to his. You loved feeling his huge hands on your smaller frame, it made you feel powerless, in a good way. His tongue invades your mouth, taking what he wants. You hear the lock of the door click, as Luke pulls away to look at you.

“If you don’t want me to fuck you again, you need to tell me now,” he looks down at you, with a steady gaze, waiting for you to push him away. But you don’t, you grab his hands in yours and place them back on your hips. His passive face morphs into a cocky smirk, causing you to roll your eyes exasperated. He doesn’t make some snarky remark as you’d expect, he simply reattaches his lips to yours and his hands wander around to grab your ass, making you moan against his mouth. He tears his mouth from yours, nipping and sucking his way down your neck.

“Luke,” you groan out when his teeth scrape against a particularly sensitive spot near your collarbone.

“I love it when you say my name doll, but you’re gonna get us caught,” he hums against your skin. Suddenly your feet are no longer touching the ground, you’re suspended against the wall, held up only by Luke’s hands and a singular strong thigh. You wrap your legs around him, trying to stabilize yourself. Luke’s attack on your neck doesn’t falter, and you feel your head fall back against the door in pleasure. His hands slide slowly up your torso, slowly flicking your dress’ spaghetti straps off your shoulders, and tugging the upper half of your dress down to your waist. “No bra, kitten? It’s like you were expecting this,” he almost hisses the words.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you”.  You want to tell him he already has but you don’t. His lips find their way to your breasts kissing and sucking the soft flesh. Pure want thrums through your body. When he reaches your nipple he starts sucking gently at first, but then you feel his teeth sinking into the sensitive peak, causing a shiver to run up your spine. You can feel desire deep in your belly, making your insides clench. Luke is suddenly carrying you, carefully setting you on the counter next to the sink. You give him a questioning look, the abrupt change of location thinning the fog in your head. “Didn’t wanna drop you,” he shrugs, “and I want to finally get a taste”.

“What? Luke, we don’t exactly have a lot of time,” you worry your bottom lip.

“We’ve got all the time in the world, kitten,” you open your mouth to protest, but he beats you to it, “you’ve gotten on your knees for me twice already,” he reminds you falling to his knees and kissing up your thighs slowly. “Let me return the favour”. His warm hands rub up your thighs, slowly pushing the hem of your very short dress up past your hips. He then removes your underwear, with his teeth, making you giggle a bit.

He merely raises an eyebrow at you, you just shrug at him in reply, and he grabs your legs again, spreading your legs for him and pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. “Try not to scream too loud, doll,” he smirks at you with a quick pinch to your nipple, before lowering his head between your thighs.

“Can you stop being a twat for even fi ––” your words are cut off with a soft noise from your throat. He’s got one hand holding your legs open, while the other one is pulling the skin taut, giving him better access to your clit. Which he’s currently suckling on, hard.

He pulls away briefly,” Sorry what was that, doll?” He doesn’t give you time to catch your breath or formulate an answer before he’s diving back in, lapping at your folds. You can only let out a sigh and a tiny groan as his tongue works its way inside of you. He uses the hand above his head to press down on your clit, while his tongue fucks in and out of you. His thumb starts making slow circular motions teasing your small bundle of nerves.

Of course, he would be astoundingly good at this, because Luke Hemmings can’t be bad at anything, especially not at sex, you thought, slightly bitter, but mostly thankful. It had only been a couple minutes and you were already panting, your body twitching in pleasure. His focus moves back to your clit, his tongue flicking it rapidly over and over again.

“Luke,” you moan out, dragging out the word. It seems to be the only word your brain is able to form. And you feel his warm chuckle against your heat.

“Shhh, doll,” he says, stopping his ministrations to look up at you. “What would Michael think if he found you in here, dress bunched up around your waist,” he runs his finger through your folds, “ with my head between your legs, moaning like a whore for me, hmm?” He again doesn’t give you time to answer him before his mouth is back on you. But he certainly painted a picture in your head. Part of you is mortified by the thought of Michael seeing you like this, but the other part of you is so far gone that you’re not sure if you would even ask Luke to stop if it did happen. Your thoughts are cut short when, well you’re not even certain what he did, but it felt amazing. His tongue glides down your folds back to your hole, teasing the rim over and over. His fingers are back at your clit plucking the sensitive skin. Your legs start to shake as Luke slips his tongue back inside and he takes notice. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and somehow you can see his smirk even though his tongue is still inside of you. You’re close, and he knows it, the glint in his eyes makes it obvious. But you don’t care because you’re cumming, with a breathless moan of Luke’s name. He works you through the tremors, laving your sensitive core after you’d slumped back against the cold counter. He pulls you up, pressing your bare chest to his.

“Am I that good?” His signature cocky smirk, gracing his face. You roll your eyes, scoffing. You stretch up and nibble lightly at his puffy bottom lip.

“Thought you were gonna ruin me, rockstar?” You tease him, hoping he’d make good on his promise. You feel the growl in his chest before you hear it.

“So demanding, kitten,” you thought you hated it when he talks to you like that, but your body seemed to disagree. “Need me that bad, huh?” he chuckles a bit but reaches for his belt buckle. He’s got his pants down past his knees and is about to pull down his boxers when he stops.

“Luke?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

He looks sheepish, “I, uh –– I don’t have a condom,” you’d expect the venue’s bathroom to have a dispenser, but no, you guess they’re too classy for that. You groan and shake your head, he goes to pull his pants back on, but you stop him.

“It’s fine, I have an IUD. We don’t need one,” you tell him, yanking his boxers off. He doesn’t waste any time after that, his hands wrap around your hips, dragging you to meet him. He slips inside of you easily and starts a harsh pace that you remember well. His hands pull your body to meet his every thrust, leaving you quaking with pleasure. He was always so rough with you and you couldn’t get enough. You wrap your legs around his torso looking for a better angle.  

“Always so desperate for me, baby,” he grunts out, running one of his hands through your hair. His grip tightens close to your scalp, as you try to keep up with his brutal pace. He yanks your hair harshly, making you gasp in pain. “You’ll let me do anything to you, won’t you doll?” His words make you hot, half with anger, half with arousal. You simply nod your head because you know it’s true.  You know you’re just feeding Luke’s ego, but he makes you feel like no one else can, and you’re always hungry for more. You feel the edge of the cold counter digging into your ass, but you don’t care enough to say anything. His lips are back against your neck, leaving more marks you’ll have to hide from Michael.

“You wouldn’t let anyone else fuck you like this,” he says breathlessly, you shake your head, but he wasn’t asking, “in the bathroom of some club? No. Mike’s always on about how you don’t like fucking around,” he takes a moment to catch his breath, his hips never faltering.

“But you’re gonna let me cum inside your sweet little cunt aren’t you doll?” his dirty words make your core flutter around him.

“Please,” there's not much else you can say. You try to work through the haze in your mind, but Luke is the only thing you can focus on.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up?” You can only nod rapidly at him, arms tightening around his neck. Luke chuckles darkly at you, “M’gonna make you mine doll”.  With these words, his hips speed up to a pace you didn’t know was possible, and the large bathroom is filled with the sound of his skin against yours and your uh uh uhs. One of Luke’s hands wanders from its place on your hips to tweak at your clit again, bringing you deliciously close to the edge. Your body starts to tense and you open your mouth to tell Luke but all you can manage to get out is the breathy repetition of his name. All it takes to push you over is a light pinch of your clit. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out a very loud groan, as you tense around his dick. You let your nails scrape down his bare chest, leaving thin red lines behind. He sets you back down and uses his hands to brace himself against the counter, pace increasing once again. His lips find yours one final time, as he lets his orgasm take over. When it’s over, he detaches your lips from his but presses his forehead to yours, just looking in your eyes as he catches his breath.

“Fuck. Why are you so irresistible?” you assume it’s a rhetorical question, so you don’t reply, you just trace shapes on his back with your nails. He’s kind of nice to be around after he’s cum, you think to yourself. “Alright doll, let’s get the fuck out of here before someone finds us,” he moves back from you and starts to redress, you squirm a bit at the feeling of his cum starting to drip from your spent hole. He makes a tsking noise, using his fingers to push the liquid back inside of you, and picks your panties off the floor, handing them to you. You slip them on and jump from the counter, trying to fix your dress.

“I want you to spend the rest of the night feeling me drip out of you, reminding you of what we did,” he whispers in your ear, sending chills through your body. You look in the mirror trying to sort out the disaster that is your hair. After a couple of minutes, you give up, deciding that this is as good as it’s going to get. You make your way over to the bathroom door, planning on leaving when Luke stops you.

“Wait, before you go,” he says while buttoning up his still damp dress shirt, “I have a proposition”.

people who asked to be tagged:  @wamweisha ,  @drummerboy794  @dontstopxx

[angeleyesmalek]

Dancing On My Own (Part 3)

Pairing: Kind of unrequited Josh Washington x Reader

Summary: Loosely based off of true events and the song Dancing On My Own by Robyn.

Warnings: cursing, angst, writing that makes -2 sense because I don’t proofread & I wrote this at like 2 am, the worst story you’ll ever read, honestly so cheesy it fucking hurts... I’m embarrassed... please don’t judge me...

Word Count: 1,167

Parts: 1, 2, 3

The first few synthesized notes rang out & you recognized them immediately while you began to bop your weight to the familiar beat.

   “Somebody said you got a new friend    Does she love you better than I can?”

You glance around at the tiny karaoke place, feeling your heart race. This was your element, being up onstage and singing, but you’d felt so small all night that it made everything hard. You had to warm up to being there again.

   “Big black sky over my town    I know where you’re at I bet she’s around    Yeah, I know it’s stupid”

You nodded to yourself, thinking about the words you were saying. Ash really did mean it. You really were singing what you were feeling, and you realized that you had to lay it all out there. Embracing the emotions swirling around your brain was better than hiding them.

   “But I just gotta see it for myself    I’m in the corner watching you kiss her, oh    I’m right over here, why can’t you see me, oh”

Now, you were really letting your voice go. You knew what you were doing, and tensing up would only make you sound horrible, so you relaxed. The process started from the inside out. First, all the muscles in your shoulders, your stomach, your throat and your jaw.

   “I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the girl you’re taking home, ooh    I keep dancing on my own”

Now, the muscles in your neck, your arms, and your legs loosened. You ascended onto another plane of existence.

   “I’m just gonna dance all night”

You even took the mic out from the stand and begin to explore the space onstage. People are starting to cheer. All it does is feed your energy.

   “I’m all messed up, I’m so out of line    Stilettoes on broken bottles”

By now, you’re rocking out onstage, and you’re even encouraging the audience to join in. Ashley takes Chris by the hand and drags him onto the dancefloor. Other couples follow their lead, and it makes your heart soar to know that Ashley’s friends weren’t just trying to make you feel good earlier.

   “I’m spinning around in circles    I’m in the corner watching you kiss her, oh”

More people are dancing and cheering than sitting, and it makes you feel great. You even bother hopping offstage and dancing with them for a bit. Mike even twirled you around while you danced.

   “I’m right over here, why can’t you see me, oh    I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the girl you’re taking home, ooh    I keep dancing on my own”    After hopping back up, you continue when the song has a soft moment.    “So far away but still so near    The lights go off, the music dies    But you don’t see me standing here”

For only a millisecond, you glanced towards Josh. He was still sitting in the booth with his arm resting on the back behind Sam. He wasn’t touching her, though. His undivided attention was on you. It felt utterly magnificent.

This experience reminded you that you were wanted, and Josh was the fool for not wanting you. You let him go in that fraction of time when you looked at him, but it was over quicker than a blink of an eye.

The next few words were sung like a prayer

   “I just came to say goodbye”

And in that moment, you were okay. You weren’t healed by any means, but you were okay.

   “I’m in the corner watching you kiss her, oh   I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the girl you’re taking home, ooh   I keep dancing on my own   I’m in the corner watching you kiss her, oh   I’m right over here, why can’t you see me, oh   I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the girl you’re taking home, ooh   I keep dancing on my own   I keep dancing on my own”

You really hammed that repeat up, holding the last note and riffing a few notes for extra measure. You felt invincible, so you figured, what the hell?

  “I keep dancing on my own”

You pulled the mic away from your mouth to catch your breath before you returned it to its allotted spot in the stand. The music was still fading off, but before it could even end, everyone was cheering, whooping, and hollering. You smiled so big, you could’ve sworn your face split down the middle. The only way you thought to hide it was to take a little bow.

Above all the commotion, you could hear familiar voices shouting from the front of the crowd.

Chris. “Yeah Y/n!”

Jess. “Woo hoo! You go, Y/N!”

Emily. “Hell yea, girl!”

Ash and Matt. “Encore! Encore! Encore!”

They made you blush a little since you weren’t anticipating that much of a positive reaction, but other people actually joined in. People who you didn’t even know wanted an encore, so you glanced embarrassedly at the DJ. You didn’t expect him to be chanting too, but he was. It made you laugh, so you agreed.

“Alright. But only one more. And this time, I’m choosing the song, not my friend.” I walked over to the DJ to give him my choice of song, and the iconic opening guitar riff to Bad Reputation blared. You immediately rushed to the microphone to sing and the crowd started dancing again. Josh was completely forgotten. This was just what you needed.

The music, the singing, all of it was perfect. Before you knew it, you were taking your second bow. You ran offstage towards Ashley.

“You were amazing!” she calls before you crash into her.

You mumble, “Thank you.”

She knows you don’t mean the thank you as a response to the compliment and pulls away from your hug to smile knowingly.

You’re startled to hear everyone behind her cheering for you. You practically shine with happiness.

“That was your best one yet!” Mike exclaims.

“Thanks,” you beam, “I’m gonna go get some water, though. I’ll be back.”

You make your way to the counter and ask the guy behind it for some. While you’re there, a young man about your age comes to congratulate you on your set, and you smile. He flirts with you for a bit, but you inform him, “You know, you seem awfully sweet, but I’m still working on getting over someone. I don’t want you to be a rebound.”

“I’m fine with being a rebound.”

The guy jokes, but you insist, “You may be, but I’m not. You deserve better than that. Can we be friends, though?”

The guy smiles kindly at you. He appreciates that you aren’t making it awkward, so he nods. His name is Nate. He’s not that funny, but you laugh at his quips to be polite.

You know the laughter is fake, but there’s a sad set of green eyes watching that thinks it’s real. It hurts Josh more than he’d care to admit.

Fin!

Tagging: ask to be tagged here

[shineefivebyyourside]

Hounds of Love, Part 1

starcourt mall isn’t the only new arrival in hawkins.

a disclaimer: i know hounds of love didn’t come out until september 1985. this is obviously set before then. but! this whole fic was heavily inspired by that song, and a summer setting felt important, so here we are. i acknowledge that i didn’t solve that conundrum. let’s just suspend our disbelief, shall we?

tw: mild swearing i’m sorry if i left anything out here. please kindly let me know if i did, and i’ll fix it.

this is the first fic i’ve ever written, and thus, most definitely the first fic i’ve ever posted to tumblr (or anywhere). hope you enjoy reading it as much as i’m enjoying writing it!

———————————————————————————————————

I found a fox  Caught by dogs He let me take him in my hands  His little heart It beats so fast  And I'm ashamed of running away  From nothing real  I just can't deal with this  But I'm still afraid to be there

Wind whipped through Frankie’s hair as her ’66 Special slid down the highway, past blurred trees and quiet farmland, carrying her further and further into her memories, into her past, back down the rabbit hole, through the mirror… 

I feel your arms surround me… 

The drive from Chicago to Hawkins wasn’t that far, and Frankie’d already belted her way through almost two full albums at what felt like an alarming rate. Maybe she earned a break.

One full tank and a snack. Let’s do this.

The afternoon sun blazed high in the cloudless sky, and the late-spring breeze bore harbingers of midwestern summer: freshly mowed grass, wet dirt, and earthy hay. The distant familiarity of her surroundings left Frankie feeling a bit listless. The welling-up after her father’s first call, the cracks in the dam growing with each visit to the library, the urgency after the flood, strategically packing a new life into her car while everything held tightly in her chest burst forth with such gut wrenching force… All the wild emotions leading up to this journey, this moment, subsided - almost unnervingly so - as she sat enveloped by the calm rustle of the middle of nowhere. Frankie pulled her knees up and leaned forward, her strawberry popsicle plopping bright, sticky drops onto the Buick’s warm, beige hood. She slurped up the last sweet juice and squinted off at nothing in particular, chewing absently on the wooden stick. A giant Van Halen t-shirt and cutoffs didn’t necessarily scream poised and groomed. She’d have to make one more stop before reaching Hawkins limits.

Hopefully somewhere with an actual bathroom. She scoffed.

Frankie hopped off the hood, took one last sighing stretch, and ducked back into the drivers seat. 

One more hour until I’m someone else.

———————————————————————————————————

“Steve, honey, did you bring those bowls in from outside?”

“Yeah, mom, they’re on the island.”

“Ok, when you get a chance, will you take the decorations down? Your father has to stop by the office, and I have some errands to run before tonight.”

“Yeah, mom, I’ll get ‘em. What’s tonight?”

Mrs. Harrington appeared at the top of the stairs, in the middle of changing her earrings.

“Honey, I know we just had your graduation party, but we’re having dinner tonight, remember? With that exchange student, or whatever. You’re father’s got business in California next week, so we need to make sure everything is set up before we leave.”

“But I told Dustin I’d take him to the arcade later.”

“Well, I’m sorry Steven, but you’ll have to call and cancel. Tonight’s not negotiable. They arrive this evening, and I won’t have you missing dinner with a guest,” and with that, she disappeared back into the upstairs hall.

Steve sighed and made his way back to the kitchen. It’s not that he didn’t have fun this afternoon. He got to see some cousins, and a few of his classmates stopped by, mostly encouraged by their parents. Of course, his close friends and their families came, but it was different with his parents around. Stuffier. Lots of small talk about the future. His future. If Steve was honest, he didn’t even want to have a party, the whole idea soured last Halloween. He didn’t want to talk or even think about the future. He didn’t want to hear about the new mall, or let on that he’d be working there as soon as it opened. What he wanted was to take Dustin to the arcade later. With any luck, Jon would show up with Mike and Will, and they could all get pizza after. That sounded like a much better celebration to Steve.  

But now I have to be at this stupid dinner. Of course we can’t have family dinner, like, with just our family. It’s always gotta be when they’re trying to show off to someone. What the hell.

Once his parents were gone and all the streamers thrown in the trash, Steve turned on the TV and flopped down by the phone.

“Henderson residence.”

“Hey, man, it’s Steve.”

“Steve! Hey! Is it cool if Max and Lucas come tonight? They said they could ride bikes, but maybe you could pick them up, and we could all get pizza after? I can use some of my graduation money so you don’t have to pay for my pizza. Or-”

“Hey, buddy, listen, I’m not gonna be able to take you guys tonight.”

“What? Why? You said earlier that you could!”

“I know, man, I’m sorry.” Steve draped his arm across his forehead. “My parents are hosting this exchange student for the summer, and with graduation and everything, I totally forgot.”

“Oh, yeeeeah. What are they studying? Is it, like, something cool? Probably not if they’re coming here, right? Unless it’s, like, science or something, and they get to work with Mr. Clarke-”

“Honestly, I don’t know. My parents want me to be there for dinner tonight when they get in, though, so.”

“Well, that sucks, but hopefully they’re cool. You’ll let me know if they’re cool, right? Maybe they’ll be some, like, crazy scientist, and they’ll blow your house up!”

The dark pressure Steve created over his face and Dustin’s familiar chatter, coupled with the plush sofa cushions… Well, this was starting to feel like the recipe for a nap. Steve chuckled sleepily and yawned over his words. “Sure, bud. I’ll let you know.”

———————————————————————————————————

Gravel crunched and twigs popped as Frankie pulled off the road. Tentatively, she exited the Buey and approached the construction fence. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, shallow breaths shaky and quick. A wide building loomed just ahead, dark and ominous, blocking out the late orange sun. Frankie whipped her head around and froze at a rustle from the trees behind her. She listened. A deep exhale escaped her lips. She melted, heavily leaning on her knees, letting her head dangle.

Jesus, Frank, calm down. As far as we know, it’s gone. She huffed. Some squirrel, huh?

Once she lifted her gaze, though, every fiber of her being was struck once more with overwhelming panic. She immediately gasped and stumbled backward, eyes wide and unblinking. Sickly, dripping vines covered the new mall, now decrepit and crumbling. Ethereal dust hung in the air, and a putrid stench emanated from the site. Francine’s breath swirled forth in white plumes, a damp, unsettling cold sweeping over her. She rolled over, desperate to find the safety of her driver’s seat, but to her horror, the vines enveloped it, too. There was no way she could drive out of here in that, no way to escape the nightmare she thought was over. She scrambled to her feet just as a car door slammed beside her.

“‘O, there.”

Frankie’s shivering quieted as warm, glowing sunlight washed over her. She stared in utter confusion as a police officer slowly approached.

“Got a call about some kids in a strange car heading back here. You got friends with you?”

Frankie shook her head and tried to catch her breath.

“N- no, sir. Just me. Just- just taking a look at the- the new mall site, sir.”

“You sure? Haven’t been drinking out here, or anything?” The tall man nodded his chin at something just beyond Francine’s feet. A few crushed beer cans lay strewn among the foliage.

“No. No, sir. That wasn’t me. I’m driving,” Francine averred a glance at her car. Shadows of high-up leaves danced on the hood. Just as she’d left it.

Jim surveyed the scene. She seemed innocent enough.

“Chicago, huh?” A beat. 

“Uuuuhhh, yeah. Yes! Sir.”

“You got family here, or something?” 

Frankie took a deep breath and settled her gaze on the officer’s badge.

“I did. A long time ago.”

“Yeah? What’s your name, kid?”

“…Pine. Josie Pine.”

Jim squinted and leaned back on the door of his truck. “Don’t think I know anyone by that name. They live here long?”

“Um, no. No, not really.” Frankie shifted uncomfortably. She felt like she’d been standing there too long, out in the open, nothing to hold onto or shift the focus. Here was this giant man, leaning cooly on his junker of a cop car, while she fidgeted with her watch and dusted her clothes, skittish like the squirrel she heard earlier.

“Is it alright…? Can I…?” Francine motioned toward the Special. “I was just here to check out the new mall. I should probably get going.”

“You drove all the way from Chicago to look at a mall that’s still under construction?” Jim peered over his sunglasses at her, eyebrows raised in skepticism. She seemed innocent enough.

Frankie laughed nervously. “No. No, it’s just- it’s been a long time. I’m just taking it all in.”

A long silence elapsed between the two strangers. Jim trying to work out why exactly this random girl was rolling around alone behind a closed off construction site - if her story really checked out; Francine alternating between studying her hands and the man before her, carefully considering her next moves.

“Actually, officer… Hopper?”

“It’s chief, but go on.”

“Chief… I’m… here for an internship. For college next year. And like I said, it’s been since I was really little… Do you think you could point me in the direction of my host family’s house?”

———————————————————————————————————

The doorbell rang just after 6:30. From his bed, Steve could hear his mother shuffling things around downstairs and scurrying to the front hall.

Alright. Let get this over with.

“Hello! It’s so nice to meet you. Welcome! Come in, come in! My name is Margaret, and this is my husband, David…” 

Mrs. Harrington’s syrupy voice greeted a rather wide-eyed and flustered girl holding several bags. She blinked a few times and shook her head, smiling apprehensively as she shuffled through the door.

“Here, my son can help you with your luggage. Steve, will you get- Oh, I’m so sorry, dear, what’s your name?”

“Josie. It’s Josie Pine. It’s nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Harrington.”

Steve watched from above as Josie untangled herself from her belongings before hopping down the stairs and grabbing two small suitcases.

“Steve can show you where the guest room is and everything. You go ahead and get settled in and just come down when you’re ready. Dinner should be done soon.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Harrington. It smells great.” Josie shot her another tight-lipped smile before following her luggage upstairs.

Steve carried the suitcases into the guest room and set them near the closet. Josie bustled in after him, dropping her bags immediately inside the door and heaving a great sigh. And then she just stood there… looking around. It took Steve a minute to realize he, too, was just standing there. Staring at her. In the dark.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, um. Lemme get- uh. There’s a light switch behind you.” He started towards it, just as Josie turned and flipped it on.

She blinked at him in the sudden brightness… There was that smile, again. The one that said, “I don’t know who the fuck you people are, and I feel too awkward to actually talk to you yet.”

“Uh… Well, this is your room for… however long you’re staying here.” Steve gestured vaguely to the room around them and slowly backed up. 

“Yeah, here it is. I’ll be here until August.” 

Steve gaped at her. The hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck stilled.

“Woah. That’s, like, the whole summer. What’re you doing for that long?” He leaned in the doorway, trying to be casual - trying to make his guest, or maybe just himself, feel comfortable.

“I’m here for an internship.” Short and crisp. Josie began to rifle through her bags, dragging them onto the bed, chewing the inside of her cheeks and furtively glancing around. 

“Cool, cool…”

Steve stayed for a minute or two longer, watching Josie unpack. She wore a black and white polo with white slacks and a skinny black belt. Simple earrings, watch on her left wrist, a pair of smart burgundy loafers discarded at the foot of the bed. All the other clothes she pulled from her suitcases were similarly tidy. Neat and prim and professional. She moved with swift decisiveness, despite the slightly troubled look on her face.

“Well, I’ll let you get settled. See you downstairs.” 

Josie gasped and jumped a little bit, as though she’d already forgotten Steve’s presence.

“Yeah, I’ll come down. Thanks for carrying these.” She waved a shirt over the luggage.

“Yeah, of course. No worries.” Steve flopped his hand in a vague summation of a wave as he trudged out of the room.

Mom is gonna love her. Fuck.

———————————————————————————————————

“So, Josie, what is it you’re studying this summer?”

“Oh, I’m not really here to study, per se. I have an internship helping with some research and lab work at a doctor’s office. Hoping to get some solid experience before the school year starts.”

“Well, we’re honored to have an aspiring medical student in our home! All the way from Chicago!”

Mrs. Harrington was a nice woman, she really was, but all Frankie wanted in that moment was for her to disappear. The dinner, the small talk, the questions - it was all far more than she had bargained for. When the doctor overseeing her project said he knew of an unassuming family who frequently left town, she jumped at the chance to stay in their house. But this… This seemed like a family who wanted her to be a lovely summer guest, someone to entertain and dote upon.

“Oh, um, well, I’m actually going into forensics. Forensic science.”

“Do you hear that, Steven?” The youngest Harrington barely acknowledged his father as he shoveled mashed potatoes into his face. “You’ve certainly got some high aspirations, young lady. Maybe you can teach our son here a thing or two about ambition and the importance of an education.”

Steve paused his shoveling and shot Mr. Harrington an indignant look. “Dad…”

Francine busied her fork with some peas and slowly took a bite of the chewiest thing on her plate while the Harrington’s bickered as politely as possible. Who would’ve thought she’d be relieved by some dysfunctional family dynamics? Fuck it. I’ll take this. Just… please. Please talk amongst yourselves.

———————————————————————————————————

The Harrington’s left a few days later on a business trip (Or was it a vacation? Francine wasn’t sure). She worried for her privacy when their son - who albeit wasn’t nearly as nosy - stayed behind, but relief quickly set in when she realized he was almost never home. Steve kept himself occupied watching over a bunch of fourteen year olds and didn’t expect to spend much “quality time getting to know each other” in the evenings. Even when he started a summer job sometime during the second week, their schedules stayed different enough, and Frankie was thankful she didn't have to search for alone time. She just had to make sure she was in the guest room, undisturbed, before he waltzed in. Easy. She could probably keep this up all summer and complete her mission without a hitch, even if she did have to endure a couple awkward dinners along the way. 

Francine felt delightfully full as she put in her nose ring one night around the beginning of week three. The Harringtons kept their fridge pretty stocked, despite their prolonged absence, and Frankie was more than happy to keep the food from going to waste. This particular night, she even set aside some leftovers for Steve. It was the least she could do, considering how standoffish she had to be in his presence. It felt good to do something immediately nice for someone. Not be so focused on the longterm for a change. Especially someone so genuinely sweet as Steve seemed.

Frankie pulled the plush comforter up to her chin and allowed her body to sink into the mattress. She knew at some point she would have to acknowledge what happened that first afternoon. But not right now. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and allowed some much needed sleep to overtake her.

Nothing even remotely close has happened since then, Frank. It was probably just a flashback. Nothing but a horrible daydream.

@thechickvic @strawberryicecreamm

[katecarteir]

if you are still doing the drabble ones can you do 38 with reddie?

38: isnt this amazing 

A/N: so this defintely wasn’t supposed to be 3k but anyways :)

Prom was such a stupid thing, Richie marveled to himself. Hegot to sit around in a uncomfortable as fuck suit, watching Bev and Ben makeeyes at each other while Ben was too nervous to ask her to dance or watch Billmake his way through the girls in their year (stutter or no stutter, Bill wasquite the catch and people had finally started to take notice), or hang aroundwith Stan and Eddie- which would normally be his absolute favourite thing todo, if Eddie wasn’t spending his time glaring at Bill and Stan didn’t keeptalking about Mike while pretending to absolutely not be talking about Mike.

So yeah, Richie bailed on the prom not even an hour in. Heplopped himself down on one of the picnic tables in the quad where he couldstill hear the top 40s bullshit they were playing in the gym, and lit up one ofthe smokes he’d borrowed from Beverly earlier. He wasn’t even sure why he wasso annoyed by his friends and this whole prom situation.

He’d spent a very long period of his life tolerating hislove sick friends. He’d accepted his position of number seven in the seven. Hehad, not entirely happily, embraced the knowledge that he was The One wheneverything gotten divided down to three pairs of two and the singular one leftover. Sometimes Richie would think about Before, when the Losers Club was justhimself, Bill, Stan and Eddie. Back when things could be divided into a small,even ratio of two duos and it worked no matter how you cut it. When Eddie’scrush on Bill didn’t make Richie want to curl into a ball and he could alwayscount on Stan to make him into a duo if everything fell apart.

Of course, Richie would never let himself dwell on that fortoo long, because he would never sacrifice his friendships with Beverly, Benand Mike for anything. Richie didn’t really want those days back. Things werebetter now, when Richie could ignore the knowledge that he would never be lovedlike his friends all loved each other. So, Richie left the prom early to smokeand that was how he coped with his life at this point.

“What are you doing out here?” Eddie called, tucking hishands into the pockets of tuxedo pants while walking over to the bench. “I wasin the middle of a story and I turned around to find you gone? How fuckingrude, Tozier.” Eddie’s tone was light and joking and Richie shot him a grin.

“Sorry, Spaghetti,” Richie blew out a large amount ofcigarette smoke which made Eddie cringe, though he didn’t move away. “The airof Polyamorous Six-Some was a little suffocating. I’m just getting some wellneeded fresh air.”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie laughed, coming to siton top of the bench beside Richie. He took the smoke from between Richie’sfingers, pressed it into the table to put it out and flicked it off into thenight. “Polyamorous Six-Some? What is that?”

“Well…” Richie cracked the joints in his fingers awkwardly.“It’s you guys, isn’t it? You… You know what I mean.”

“No.” Eddie said firmly, eyes narrowing and his lips turningdown in a frown. “I definitely do not know what you mean. Where is that head ofyours?”

Richie sighed angrily, fingers dragging through his alreadymessed up curls. He’d put in so much effort into them that night, getting hismom to help him use gel to push it from his eyes and flatten it down. He hadn’tbeen able to explain to even himself why he was caring so much, until he’dgotten to limo Ben had demanded they get. Until Eddie had looked at his hair,laughed, and turned to talk to Bill. Richie had gotten to the prom, gonestraight to the bathroom to wet his hair and mess it up. He’d pointedly ignoredStan’s pitying smile and dodged what surely would have been a comforting pat onthe shoulder. Richie didn’t need to be comforted, comfort was just an encouragementto keep acting like an idiot.

Richie was tired of being an idiot when it came to EddieKaspbrak.

“It’s just…” Richie waved his hand around, as thoughsmacking the air would clear his thoughts and make the words that come out hismouth make sense to anybody that wasn’t him. “Bev and Ben staring into eachother’s eyes, all too nervous to make that first move even though we all knowonce that move happens they’re set for life- or Stan somehow turning everyconversation into how Mike couldn’t come like we’re all not supposed to knowthat they’re dating, or how you-“ Richie cut and his mouth shut down into atight thin line. He always said more than he wanted to.

“What about me?” Eddie asked, voice thin and almostbreathless somehow.

“You… you fucking watching Bill flirt with girls like he’djust told you that most offensive joke about the Holocaust or… dead dogs orsomething.” Richie shook his head and laughed humourlessly. He wanted nothingmore than to lit another smoke, but he knew there was no way Eddie was going tolet that fly and God help him- Richie was still wrapped right around thatfinger no matter how hard he tried.

Eddie let out his own laugh, one that sounded almost bitter.“I don’t care if Bill flirts with girls, I am fully supportive of his hoelifestyle. All the power to him.” The words, they didn’t sound bitter at all.They sounded amused and genuine, and Richie crinkled his nose in confusion.

“Okay so…”

“I don’t like Bill, Richie,” Eddie said softy. Richieglanced at him from the corner of his eye, and Eddie was looking at him.Staring at him. “I don’t, I never… Well, maybe I did, but when I was like tenand I didn’t even know so it doesn’t count.”

Richie finally turned his body so he was fully facing Eddie.Eddie, with his big eyes and perfectly styled hair, who was looking at Richielike he’d just explained string theory to him and he was waiting for Richie tocatch up. “So, if it wasn’t because Bill was giving those girls the sex eyesthen why were you trying to murder him with your mind?”

A look of discomfort danced across Eddie’s face. “We gotinto a fight. Just after we arrived, when you were in the bathroom.” Eddieshrugged.

“Why?” Richie frowned. Eddie and Bill didn’t fight. Richie and Bill fought, Richie and Eddie fought, but Eddie and Bill do notfight. “What happened?”

“He, uh,” Eddie scratched the back of his head, looking upat Richie through his lashes and looking bashful. “He was defending you,actually. Seemed to think I unjustifiably hurt your feelings.”

“I’ll be damned,” Richie’s eyebrows shot up and disappearedunder this messy fringe. Bill never stood up for Richie to other members ofLosers Club. Sometimes Stan did, Beverly definitely did, and Mike was alwayspretty quick to jump in to defend anybody if words got a little too harsh. Billsometimes would shut down an argument if things seemed to be escalating to apoint where he wanted them to shut up, but Bill wasn’t the type to actuallypull Eddie aside and lecture him for ‘hurting Richie’s feelings’. “I didn’tknow Bill even knew I had feelings.”

It was a joke, it was. Richie’s relationship with Bill wasgood, they’d had more than their fair shares of emotional bonding and if itRichie were to guess- he’d probably seen Bill open and vulnerable more thananybody else. But Eddie’s face fell and his hand moved to grab Richie’s. “Youdon’t actually believe-“

“No, I don’t actually believe that.” Richie rolled his eyesand slipped his hand away from Eddie’s. He didn’t indulge himself in EddieKaspbrak anymore. That was something Stan had advised him on, one night sittingon Stan’s bedroom floor while they both pretended that Richie wasn’t crying. “Iknow that our dad Bill loves me, I just- I’d never expect him to defend myhonour to you.”

“Wasn’t the first time,” Eddie said simply and Richie felthis eyes widen. “Bill’s got a soft spot for our Trashmouth a mile wide, youhave to know that. And he’s right, too, you know. To put me in my placesometimes. I can be…  a bit of anasshole.”

“No, Eds-“ Richie started but Eddie’s hand was reaching outto brush at Richie’s still slightly damp curls and his voice stuck painfully inhis throat. Don’t be an idiot, Tozier.Don’t play the game because you know you’ll just loose everything. Be okay withbeing seven, you were always okay with seventh.

“I’m sorry I laughed at your hair,” Eddie said, so genuinelyand so un-Eddie that it threw Richie’s heart through a loop. Eddie didn’t talkto Richie like this, all soft and caring. Talking to Eddie was shots and digsthrown back and forth, dirty jokes and laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe.It was never unloving, but it wasn’t comfort and compassion either. “Bill toldme I’d been a dick, and really hurt you. I didn’t believe him, told him to sucksome ass but then you came out of the bathroom and your hair was wet and…”Eddie shook his head and glared down at the picnic table as though it was whathad offended him. “And I’m sorry. Truly.Sincerely.”

“It’s okay,” Richie said quickly, wanting absolutely nothingmore than for this conversation to be over. For snarky and quick of wit EddieKaspbrak to come back, get rid of this weird soft Eddie that was makingRichie’s heart thrum in his chest.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry, Richie, I shouldn’t have laughedat your hair and you didn’t need to wash it out,” Eddie shook his head, facecrinkled up like he’d tasted something terrible. “It didn’t look bad, Rich, Iswear. It looked good, I just laughed because it surprised me. It looked soun-like you, but it still- It looked good. I was just surprised.”

Richie nodded slowly. “It’s okay, Eddie. I was never mad atyou.”

“Bill was mad at me,” Eddie’s hand hovered towards Richie’shand before he dropped it again, with a twitch of his bottom lip. “I’m mad atme, too. And then when I turned and I found that you were gone, I… God, Richie,I don’t even know how to talk right now. I shouldn’t have laughed at yourhair.”

“Okay, Eddie,” Richie jumped up, laughed awkwardly. “Can westop talking about my hair and you laughing at me? You always laugh at me, Eds.It’s kind of our thing? Comic relief friend and all that shit. Let’s just goback to the dance and give Stan somebody to talk about Mike to.”

Richie started to walk away when Eddie’s hand flew out andwrapped around his wrist. Richie turned slowly, teeth digging into his bottomlip. Eddie looked up at him, eyes suddenly so sad that it whacked Richie deepin the gut. “Rich… Bill told me you did that with your hair because you wantedto impress me.” Fuck. Leave it to Bill to read Richie like an open book whenRichie himself wasn’t even sure what he’d been doing. “And if that’s true,Richie, then I really shouldn’t have laughed at you.”

“Okay.” Richie nodded, still refusing to meet Eddie’sburning gaze. “I accept your apology that I didn’t really need. Can we let itgo now?”

“If you want.” Richie felt Eddie stir and stand up, grabbingRichie’s other hand and tugging Richie to face him. Richie forced himself tolook at Eddie. Eddie, who was looking at him with this fragile smile and whosehands were so soft and warm in Richie’s own. Stan’s voice bounced into Richie’shead, vibrating and tearing him apart. Maybeyou need to take a break from Eddie, dude. Space. “But you should know, if you were trying to impress me thatyou don’t need to.”

“What?” Richie whispered, eyes trailing over Eddie’s face.Looking for any sign of a joke or falseness in Eddie’s tone. Eddie’s smilestrengthened and he stepped closer to him, their torsos pressing together intuxedos that almost matched.

“I don’t like Bill,” Eddie said slowly, taking a pausebetween each word. His eyes were wide and shining and Richie couldn’t look awayfrom them. “I don’t like Bill and you don’t need to impress me. You don’t needto slick back your hair or do anything for my attention. You’ve got it, Richie,okay? So we can let this go, if that’s still what you want but I needed you toknow. I don’t like Bill, don’t ever think that again. And don’t try to impressme, because I’ll just mess it all up and I hate hurting you. I also hate havingto apologize to you like some huge sappy dumbass.”

“Well, you’re pretty good at it,” Richie laughed, blinkingback tears. Eddie laughed softly himself, shifting his weight as though hewanted to move closer to Richie but the physical touching of their bodiesprevented it. “And.. isn’t thisamazing but I didn’t even fucking know I was trying to impress youuntil you laughed at me? It was so important to me that my hair looked good andit didn’t even know why it mattered until I thought you didn’t like it. “

Eddie just stared at Richie, giving him the distinct feelingthat Eddie’s time for talking was over and he was giving Richie the floor tospeak. And maybe it was the still nighttime air or Eddie in that tux or justthe simple vulnerability Eddie had opened himself but Richie found himselfspilling everything out. “I didn’t mean to offend you by implying you likedBill, I just always assumed that you did. Which I guess I shouldn’t havebecause that’s not fair to you, and it’s probably pretty fucking rude, but youguys are so tight and you look at him like he’s your absolute hero but-“

“I used to.” Eddie interrupted. “I wasn’t offended that youthought I liked Bill, I’m sure you had your reasons. I probably did like Billat one point, when we were younger, but he wasn’t like… my gay awakening or anyof that dumb shit. That was Mike, actually.”

Richie burst out laughing, dropping his head forward so itlanded onto Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s hands slipped from inside of Richie’s andmoved around to hold onto his waist. “Mike, no kidding? Does Stanley knowyou’re trying to steal his mans?”

Eddie giggled. “I had my gay awakening way before he wasStanley’s ‘mans’. Remember when he picked me up and tossed me into the basketof his bike? Even totally freaking out with my broken fucking arm, I knew thatwas hot shit.”

“Gay ass.” Richie pulled away from Eddie, scraping hisfingers into Eddie’s hair as Eddie’s hands travelled up his back. “So, Bill andMike? You got some long lingering feelings for Stanley, too? Maybe secretlyhoping Ben’s going to slip some erotic poetry into your locker?”

“Beep, beep,” Eddie rolled his eyes, whacking Richielightly- almost playfully- on the back. “If anybody is secretly holding a flamefor Stanley Uris, it’s you, Tozier. I’ve seen the way your eyes light up whenhe threatens you. Unsurprisingly kinky.”

Richie snorted. He and Eddie giggled in each other’s spacefor a moment before Eddie’s teasing gaze turned serious once again. “You calledus all the Polyamorous Six-Some or something? You didn’t include yourself. Idon’t want you to think that stuff. And maybe I’m not your confidant oranything, I know you go to Stan with your emotional blurting’s but I can listento. And I promise I won’t give you shit.”

Richie leaned down so his nose brushed against Eddie’s justonce. “You can be my confidant, Eddie Spaghetti, if you wanted.” He swallowedhard. “I’d let you be anything youwanted for me.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he exhaled hard. His hands grippedtightly at the back of Richie’s tux jacket and pressed his body all the closer.Richie rested one hand on the side of Eddie’s neck and let the other come torest on his shoulder. “Richie, I don’t like Bill.” Eddie said quickly, soquickly Richie barely understood him.

“So you keep telling me,” Richie whispered. Eddie tilted hishead back, so their nose remained touching and their breath ghosted eachother’s lips. “But what does that mean?”

Eddie swallowed and his eyes fluttered close. “I don’t likeBill and I never really liked Mike, either. I only liked him for a few days, afew panicky days of gay panic, before I realized that there was somebody Iactually did like. Somebody who wasn’t nice or sweet like Mike, but would holdonto my face when I’m scared and snap my arm back into place and would call mebullshit nicknames no matter how many times I told him not to….”

Richie squeezed Eddie’s shoulder and he knew Eddie couldfeel how hard he was breathing. “Some big dumb gay idiot who doesn’t evenrealized he’s doing things to impress me until they don’t- because he’s had medisgustingly and unfortunately impressed since we were thirteen. Even when he’ssome big dumb gay idiot.”

“I think it’s especially then,” Richie said, shooting Eddiehalf a smirk. “Because you came out here to find the big dumb gay idiot out thesecond you noticed he wasn’t by your side. Because you were afraid that you’dhurt him. Because…”

“I love that big dumb gay idiot,” Eddie whispered happily.Richie’s smirk broke into a huge, face splitting smile and Eddie tugged him bythe hips and sealed their lips together.