#angsty california dreaming

[tangerinequeen19]

High in California - Louis Tomlinson / Going to California - Led Zeppelin (BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD EXPERIENCE BRANDI'S COVER) / Poppies, Antelope Valley - Benjamin Chambers Brown (1865-1942) / California Dreamin' record (1981) / Son of a Highway Daughter - Ruston Kelly (ICONIC MV OF RK FIGURE SKATING) / Hotel from Thelma & Louise (1991) / Little Miss Sunshine (2006) / California - Joni Mitchell / Sunset - KRiemer

[eddiesxangel]

Show You | Virgin Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie meets you 4 years after he escapes the upside-down when he moves to your small Californian town.

Wc: 7k AN: sorry to the anons that requested Virgin!Eddie like a month ago, but here shit is!

Cw: shy/angsty/insecure!Eddie, fluff, SMUT, Virgin Eddie x experienced fem reader, size kink, blowjob, p in v, protected sex, sub!Eddie. Switch?eddie, dirty talk.

1990

Eddie’s life for his first twenty years wasn’t necessarily the best… drugs, alcohol, child neglect, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. Eddie’s dreams were haunted by the horror story of his life, which was 1986.

Four years ago, the gates of hell opened, and Eddie was dragged into them, kicking and screaming. Eventually, he got out with his weird band of misfits, but the scars left on his body by those disgusting creatures only remind him daily of the horrors he survived.

He survived. He got out and was paid a fat sum by the American government for keeping quiet. So he took the money and his Uncle and they ran. They ran far, far away from Hawkins, so far they ended up in the quaint town of Ferndale, California.

The Munson men had grown accustomed to the small-town life and did not want to give that up. They were pleasantly surprised when they moved to Ferndale. The vibrant Victorian-style homes painted in different shades of pastel colours added a pop of colour to the town's landscape. Wayne was particularly taken by the town's charm and ultimately decided he didn't want to leave.

The smell of saltwater from the nearby ocean was a refreshing change, and the Munson men enjoyed taking long walks on the beach during their free time to clear their heads of their tortured past. The picturesque scenery of Ferndale was a welcome change from the mundane routine of their old town of Hawkins.

With that money from the government, Eddie was able to buy himself and his uncle a nice four-bedroom house; they had so much room for just the two of them they didn’t know what to do with it. Eddie owed everything to his uncle, so of course, he needed to splurge.

Eddie had to undergo hours of physical therapy daily to fix every joint and muscle on the right side of his body, which made it difficult for him to perform even the simplest of tasks. It took him a couple of years to recover and walk properly again, but he remained determined to make a fresh start and leave his old life behind.

Once he was finally able to function normally, Eddie set out to find a new job that would provide him with a real opportunity to rebuild his life. He was determined to leave his past behind and start anew without any remnants of his old life hanging over him, including drug dealing. Eddie knew that it wouldn't be easy, but he remained committed to his goal. He was willing to put in the hard work necessary to succeed in his new job and build a better life for himself. For him, this was a second chance, a fresh start that he was determined to make the most of.

The door chimed and jingled as the fall air flowed into the small music store. While the locals were bundled up in layers of corduroy and jean jackets, scarves, and gloves, Eddie enjoyed the breeze that entered the shop. His faded black Metallica t-shirt was the only one in sight.

The doorbell's persistent chime was starting to wear on Eddie's nerves as the evening came to a close. It had been a long and busy day, with customer after customer coming in. With only twenty minutes left to go, he was getting ready to close up shop alone tonight. He considered flipping the sign a little early because, finally, after hours of non-stop work, the floor was empty of people.

Eddie was behind the counter, wiping down the work area and facing away from the door, when he heard those dreaded chimes. His shoulders dropped with defeat; he was a fool to think this day could be ended early.

He put on a façade of good customer service, but his expression quickly changed to genuine happiness mixed with nerves upon seeing who had walked into the small record store.

He had seen you around town, at the grocery store and sometimes at the beach. He admired you from afar, never once approaching you. No. You intimidated him but in the best way. You were like no other woman he had seen before.

Growing up in Hawkins, being secluded as the town freak, he didn’t have much exposure to female attention. Or any romantic attraction for that fact. So when you entered the store, Eddie’s palms felt sweaty, and his heart started to race; he could hear the blood pounding in his ears as his eyes locked with yours.

He swore he saw a sparkle in your eyes when you looked at him, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. He didn’t even know your name yet.

“E-evening,” he awkwardly waved as you browsed the slim aisle.

“Hi,” your face broke out into a smile and went back to your search. Your best friend Charlie’s birthday was tomorrow, and you needed to get her a gift before her party.

As you searched and searched, you were still looking for an album you thought she would like. You two were total opposites when it came to your music preferences, so you had no idea what to get her. After minutes with no success, you found yourself calling out to the only other person in the store.

“Hey, I don't mean to bother you, but I need your opinion.” You snap Eddie out of his little daydream, obviously that you were the start of that daydream.

“Sure!” He said he was a bit too excited. “How can I help you” he smiled but swung his long arms back and forth uncomfortably as he approached you.

“I’m looking for a birthday gift, and I’m a total newbie when it comes to metal. Do you think you can help me?” You bite your lip, observing the man in front of you.

He possessed an alluring, bad-boy persona that made him quite charming. His hair was long, reaching his shoulders, and looked unstyled, yet it was evident that he had taken time to make it look just right. The chocolate waves cascaded down his face, framing his striking features, which were difficult to ignore. His big, round eyes were captivating, and they softened his tough exterior, making him appear less intimidating, especially with that nasty scar running through his left cheek and up to his temple. He had a fair complexion, and his arms were visible, revealing numerous tattoos that covered some scars running up from his forearm to his bicep, which aided his rugged appearance.

He saw you staring and immediately wrapped his arms around himself, trying to conceal the scars from your gaze. You felt bad. You know it’s rude to stare, but he was so enticing to look at; you’d never seen anyone like him before, especially not in this North California town of yours.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You gestured to the arms he was concealing.

"S'all good." He brushed it off, but you could tell he was, in fact, uncomfortable.

"If it makes you feel any better... it makes you look like a total badass." You smirked.

"Oh really?" hearing your compliment did make Eddie feel a little better.

"Yeah, total babe magnet." You flirt.

"Well... I don't know about that?" Eddie's closed-off demeanour quickly changed to bashful.

"You're not from here, are you?" you looked at his name tag "Eddie," you cock your head, taking him in once again.

He's taller than you by at least a full head. His shoulders are broad, and his torso is lean. You'd guess he is around your age, mid-twenties, give or take a year or two.

Eddie liked the way you said his name.

"Nah, moved here a few years ago," he smirked.

"Well, I'm glad you did because you look just like the style of a guy who can help me." You bite your lip.

"I do?"

"Like I said, my friend is a total metalhead, and I don't have a clue on what to get?"

"Sure, yeah, I'm definitely your guy for that."

He walked you over to the correct section of the store, and you noticed a slight limp to his gate.

"If they're just an okay friend, I suggest this," He held up a small cassette. "but if they're a really good friend, Then this is definitely the thing to get them."

"Oh, this looks like something they would like! Charlie never shuts up about this band." You smile, taking the record from Eddie's hands. You decide this is the one and let Eddie know you want him to ring you up.

"So is Charlie like your boyfriend or something" God Munson, real smooth.'

This made you giggle.

"Why do you wanna ask me out or something? You cocked your head.

"Yeah, or something," Eddie's demeanour suddenly became coy.

"Well, Charlotte is my best friend, no boyfriend. " you take the record off Eddie's hands.

"Oh ok cool-cool”

Seconds of awkward silence filled the air, you could sense he wanted to talk to you more.

“Yea, well um”-

“You think I could have your number?" He asked while fiddling with his fingers. His long, thick fingers were decorated with silver rings, scars and chipped black polish. You liked his fingers; he looked like the kind of guy who knew how to use them.

Eddie's personality was more like that of a teddy bear than his outward appearance suggested.

"Sure," You smiled and pulled out an old receipt and a pen from your purse. You flipped it to the blank side and wrote your name and number on the back. "Call me." You winked as you passed it to Eddie before exiting the store.

Eddie couldn't believe what just happened. He locked up as soon as you left, watching to make sure you made it into your car safely. The crime rate in this town was non-existent, but now Eddie knew what was lurking in the shadows. He could never be too careful.

Eddie made it home about half an hour later and was examining the small paper you'd given him. He looked over the pink loopy writing of your name, and he traced over the love heart you'd written in the top right corner.

"What that you got there, boy" Wayne walked into the room and noticed what Eddie had been memorizing. He bent down and picked up the white paper marked in pink ink off of the coffee table. "Well, well, well, I'll be damned," He huffed with excitement. It was about time Eddie put himself out there.

"I bet she's real cute." He winked at his blushing nephew.

"Yeah," Eddie sighed, thinking about your face.

"If you need any tips, let me know." Wayne smiled.

"Huh?"

"I'll have you know I know how to treat a lady right, so when you come begging for help, I'll be right here." He patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, okay, Mr. Cassanova." Eddie scoffed. Wayne had never been with anyone since Eddie entered his life.

"Whatever," Wayne mumbled under his breath as he exited the living room to give Eddie some semblance of privacy. He would be able to hear the whole conversation, but he still wanted to give the illusion of privacy to his boy.

When the phone rang, you had been wrapping Charlie's present in your bedroom.

"I got it!" You yelled out to your roommates, rushing over to the other end, praying that it was Eddie on the other end.

You let it ring two more times as you took a deep breath before picking it up.

"Hello," You smiled.

"Hey, uh, this is Eddie."

"Hi, Eddie," you smiled. He could tell it was you by your voice. "I'm glad you called." You played with the phone cord, wrapping it and then unwrapping it from your fingers as you spoke.

"I was wondering if you were free on Saturday?"

You jumped up and down, giddy he was asking you out, when Charlie and Evan, your two roommates, rounded the corner to see what had gotten you all googly-eyed.

"I work Saturday until three, but I'm free after" You look at your roommates and Charlie's mouth "Who's that"

"Great, I -uh- was thinking we could maybe see a movie or dinner or both; yeah, both are good." Eddie cleared his throat.

"Yeah, both are good," You giggle back.

"Great, I can pick you up around six, that okay?"

You agree and give him your address. You wish him a good night and hang up with phone with the biggest smile on your face.

"Okay, spill, who was that." Evan and Charlie corner you before you can escape.

"You know the music store on Main St.?" You grin.

"Yea," they say in unison.

"I was in there tonight, and the guy who works there, Eddie, asked me for my number, and we are going out on Saturday."

"You mean the scary guy with the hair and the nasty scar on his face?" Evan's eyes widen.

"Trust me, he is not scary," you giggle.

"Okay," Evan draws out. He was always protective of you.

"Trust me, you should have seen how timid he was; he's really sweet." You reassure them.

"We need to get you an outfit!" Charlie jumps into action, heading for your room.

"Wait!" You rush by her, shoving the gift under your pillow so she can't see anything.

"Something I should know? any particular reason you were at the music store tonight?"

"Nope! No reason at all; I saw a cute guy and thought I would shoot my shot." You brush off

"Yeah, okay," She totally knew.

Eddie was frantic. This was honestly and truly his first date. He doesn’t count the disaster of a night that was Jackie Manning in the fourth grade that had been wiped from his memory.

Eddie was bouncing around the house from room to room, trying to gather things he needed for the evening. He wanted this to work. He wanted to get to know you. He wanted to build something, he was already a twenty four year old who’s never been in a relationship or had sex. And he wanted those two things so badly. He was lonely, and he missed his friends from Hawkins, but he could never go back, not after everything that had happened. And because of everything that happened was the exact reason he was still a virgin.

The pressure to please was building in his head as the time started getting closer to 6:00pm.

“Don’t psych yourself out, kid.” Wayne watched as his nephew flew around the house. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“What if she thinks I’m a freak like everyone else?” His sentence tapers off as his voice turns into a mumbled whisper.

“Son, listen to me. This town is no Hawkins. You do not need to hide anymore, and you never know. Maybe she’s more of a freak than you ever can be,” his uncle laughed.

“Not helping.” He rolls his eyes, walking back to his room. He was looking for the new cologne he bought for tonight. He sprits it on himself maybe one too many times, but it didn’t matter, he was sweating so much he needed to change his shirt, again.

Looking into the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the scars that crisscrossed along his torso. It was obvious that his scars had a story, one that was filled with pain and struggle. Despite feeling self-conscious, Eddie took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was more than his physical appearance. With care, he fixed his hair and pulled on a black long-sleeved collared shirt, hoping it would provide some comfort and confidence.

With one last deep breath, he worked up the courage to grab his keys and walk out the front door.

“Good luck, be yourself, don’t forget the flowers and open the door for her damnit! I didn’t raise you to be no brute!”

“Got it!” Eddie yelled out before shutting the door with a click.

As you were lost in thought, a distant rumble of an old engine caught your attention, and you instinctively turned towards the window. You noticed a striking red two-door sedan pulling up to the front of your house, and your eyes were immediately drawn to Eddie as he stepped out of the car. He exuded an air of confidence, wearing a sleek black leather jacket that complimented his impressive physique. You couldn't help but watch as he flicked the butt of his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his black boots.

Your gaze moved up his long, toned legs, admiring the way they looked in his fitted black jeans, to his slim waist and broad shoulders that seemed to dominate the space around him. As he walked towards the trunk of the car, his movements were so graceful that they seemed almost rehearsed. He retrieved what looked like a bouquet of flowers. You couldn’t help but fucked him as you watched how he walked up to the front porch. He looked like pure sex, and you couldn’t wait to climb him like a tree.

Yeah, it has been a while since you last got laid, and this date with Eddie was getting your hopes up that that streak will soon come to an end.

The closer he got to the porch, the more the butterflies built in your stomach. The knock on the door shot you up from where you were perched, and you quickly made your way down the stairs.

“Hi” you smile brightly as you open the door.

“Hey,” Eddie smirked shyly as he took you in. It was like he forgot to breathe for a second. How could someone be cute and sexy at the same time?

“Hi” you repeated.

“I got you these.” he passed you a cute bouquet of pink and purple flowers.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You smile and smell them, finding your bashfulness.

“For us, you shouldn’t have!” Evan comes up and takes the flowers out of your hands

“Okay, bad boy, have our girl back by midnight” Charlie comes up from behind you, giving Eddie a once over.

“Charlie?” Eddie points.

“Oh, you talked about me? I’m flattered,” your best friend pecks you on the cheek.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are?” Eddie motions to Evan.

“Evan” he smiles and puts his hand out to shake. “The unspoken about roommate.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just salty. I’m going out, and he’s stuck at home with Charlie and her new Dio album,” you smirk.

“Well, I hope you enjoy, I’m personally a fan of track 8,” Eddie rocks back on his heels.

“I like him; he’s the boy version of me.” Charlie nods in approval.

“Okay, let’s go.” You grab Eddie's arm and close the door behind you before your roommates can say anymore.

Eddie walked you to the passenger side of the red sedan and opened the door for you.

“Thank you,” you smiled, and Eddie jogged to the other side.

The car ride was a little quiet but not long. Eddie jogged out to the other side and opened the door for you with a smile.

You talked a bit more before the movie. He bought the popcorn and drinks. He didn’t open up much about why he moved, but you spoke about your interests and your future goals up until the movie started.

During the movie, you tried to pass signals to him to make a move. You rested your hand out so he could take it, but it seemed that he was engrossed in the film. You tried leaning in closer so he could put his arm around you, but nothing. So you pulled a Hail Mary and rested your hand on his thigh. You felt his body stiffen under your touch, but the. He relaxed a little and took your hand in his.

You glanced over at Eddie, and he was grinning at you. The light off the movie screen reflected off the deep scar marking Eddie’s cheek. God, he was beautiful.

“What?” Eddie whispered.

Shit, did you say that out loud?

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered back confidently. Something about Eddie told you he wasn’t complimented often, but you wanted to change that.

“Oh,” Eddie blushes, the red crawled up his chest, and he felt his ears burning bright red. Thankful for his long hair and the dark theatre.

After the movie, Eddie didn’t let go of your hand until you got to the car; then, when you both were back in the car, he bravely reached over and took your hand in his once more.

Dinner was lovely; he pulled out your chair for you, and he opened up more to you about himself. He was extremely charming and funny, vibrant and animated, and he made you feel alive. Eddie was such a breath of fresh air compared to the men from your past.

By the end of the night, you didn’t want it to end. You drove around for a while before you both decided it was for the best to take you home.

Like the perfect gentleman he had been all night, Eddie walked you up to your door.

“I had a really nice night with you.” You smiled up at him. He made you feel like a teenager again.

“Me too, Sweetheart.”

Your heart soared at the nickname.

Eddie leaned in, hoping and praying he was reading the room correctly. He felt like his insides were going to explode, and he took the risk and kissed you.

Eddie’s hands grabbed your waist and pulled you in closer as you leaned into him. He felt your hands wrap around his neck and bring your bodies closer. His hard frame was pressed against your soft one; he let a soft moan slip as he felt your soft breasts graze his chest and your plush thighs press against his centre.

Eddie quickly pulled away once he felt his cock hardening against your body; the last thing he needs is your thinking he is some perv.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Eddie cupped your face, giving you one quick peck before stepping back and trying to cover his crotch with his jacket.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you smile, and you look at him like no one has looked at Eddie. It made his knees feel like jello.

“I’ll call you,” he smirked; his confidence had grown since he walked out his front door.

“You better”

Eddie and you have been dating for two months now. Everything had been going well, everything but your sex life, or lack thereof.

Eddie hadn’t made a move. Nothing went past makeouts and heavy petting, and you were starting to get insecure. Everything else was amazing, but nothing ever led to anything more.

You had tried to initiate sex, but every time you were turned away, even a blow job, Eddie made an excuse for you not to go past kissing.

You were pulling away, and Eddie could sense it. He was absolutely fucking this up, but his inner thoughts were his worst enemy. How could you be with someone as inexperienced and deformed as him? Could he please you? What if he finished in ten seconds? He would be mortified. But all of that felt like nothing if it meant losing you.

Tonight, he would change that. Tonight, he had the whole evening planned. He had the house to himself as Wayne was also out with a lady friend he had met at the town bar. Things were looking up for the Munson men in California.

After your date with Eddie, he invited you over to his place for the first time. His house was beautiful; you wondered how Eddie could afford a place like this? He had already disclosed to you he had purchased it all on his own.

“Are you a part of the mob” you joke as you take in the house.

Eddie chuckled and led you further into his home.

“You want a drink?”

“Yeah, whatever you’re having,” As you make your way over to the large sofa you take a seat and let out a deep sigh as you sink into the comfortable cushions.

The room is quiet, save for the sound of Eddie shuffling around in the kitchen, and you begin to feel a little uneasy in the silence, not knowing what to do to fill the time. Thankfully, Eddie walks in with two beers in his hands, and you can't help but smile at the sight of him.

He hands you a beer and takes a sip of his own before heading over to the stereo to put on some music. As the music starts to fill the room, you begin to feel more at ease.

“So, where is your Uncle?” You ask casually.

“Out for the night, we have the place to ourselves.” He smiles as he sits down beside you.

“Oh, so he is gone the whole night?” You ask, trying not to get your hopes up.

“Yep,” he ended his word with a crisp pop.

“That’s good.” You nod your head. “Sure is a big place to be alone in.”

“Wanna keep me company?” Eddie nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Yes,” you sigh as the beer in your hands has been completely forgotten. Finally, you were going to spend some much-needed alone time with Eddie.

You push back so you can turn your head to kiss Eddie. You turn your body so you can get a better angle. Eddie cups your face pulling you closer, he wanted to feel you, all of you.

You needed to feel him more, too; your pussy was in control; you swung your leg over his lap so you could straddle your man. Your hips started moving on their own. Grinding down onto Eddie’s lap. Eddie hands travels from your face down your back to cup your ass pulling you closer. His cock was already hard; you felt how big he was through his taught jeans. You pull away to slip your hands under his shirt, but Eddie grabs your wrists hastily.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You ask worried. The grip on your wrists was firm. “I thought you were into this?” You feel like you are folding into yourself.

“I am!” He was quick to correct you.

“Do you not want me in that way?” Your voice was so small.

“No! I mean, yes, I do, I really, really do.” He shakes his head.

“Then why don’t you want to do anything with me?”

“I do, fuck, sweetheart. I really do. It’s all I think about.” He stroked your hair reassuringly.

“Then let me.” You tried unbuttoning Eddie’s jeans, but he stopped you once again. You were fighting back tears of embarrassment. You were throwing yourself at him, and he was rejecting you time and time again.

“Sweetheart, wait, I have to tell you something… well, two things.”

“What it’s it, baby?” Now you were nervous.

“I-shit- I want this to be… be so good for you, but I’m…not really…experienced.” he avoided eye contact, and it finally clicked.

“Eddie, are you a virgin?” Your question with no judgment or malice in your tone.

He slowly nods his head, looking down in his lap.

“Baby, that doesn’t matter to me.” You hook a finger under his jaw to make him look at you.

His wide eyes were sorrowful like he didn’t want to disappoint you.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a kiss as you lean down into him. Slowly, you started rocking your hips into his lap once again.

“Sweetheart, there is uh-one more thing.” He pulls away; you can already feel his thick cock beneath you.

“If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything.”

“No, no, I-I want to. It’s umm. Shit”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” you cooed.

“I kinda have to if I want to sleep with you…”

“Okay, Eddie. Take your time.”

“My uh- scars. They’re everywhere." he gestured to his middle, " And I don’t want you to be grossed out or whatever.” He was bitterly honest with you. All of his walls came tumbling down, and you felt like an ass for not even considering his feelings about the situation.

“Eddie,” you sighed.

“No, I know what I look like, and it’s not normal. I don’t want you to get scared off or worse because I really like you. And god, I wanna have sex with you so bad it’s all I can think about that makes me sound so perverted- but it’s true. I want to be with you so bad.”

You cut him off with a kiss. A deep, sensual kiss that makes Eddie forget his own name.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper into his lips.

“You don’t have to. I want this to be about you.”

“No baby, you do so much for me. Let me do this for you” You kiss down his jaw to his neck, sucking a dark purple mark until you’re satisfied and Eddie is withering underneath you, trying to get any sense of friction.

Your hands explored his waist above his shirt, feeling his body. It was bumpy, and there were ridges where you were not used to, but it didn’t deter you from wanting to be with him.

You could feel his body stiffen when your fingers traced over his scars.

“Is there any place you don’t want me touching?” You whispered.

“No, no, touch me- please.” his chest moved up and down with his heavy breaths.

Eddie’s body felt like it was on fire. No one has ever felt him in this way. He needed more but didn’t want to press you. So he let you take your time.

Your hands once again tried to break past the barrier of his shirt. This time, he let you as your warm fingertips worked their way up his tummy, feeling his skin beneath you.

“Can I take this off?” You ask.

Eddie nodded his head frantically; he trusted you and wanted nothing more than to keep going.

He sat up a bit, letting you shuffle the soft cotton over his head.

Your gaze didn’t break from his body. It was so beautifully mangled you could see he had skin grafting scars all across his chest and sides.

“I get it if you’re not attracted to me.”

“Hey,” you grab his head in both hands, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never wanted to be with anyone more than I want to be with you right now.” You take a hand off his face to grab his hand and guide it to your soaked panties.

Eddie’s eyes widen with surprise as he feels your pooled slick in your panties.

“Holy shit,” Eddie gasped.

“I want you, Eddie. I want you so bad. I want to make you feel good.” You grind yourself on his hand before you slink off his lap and onto your knees in front of him.

You were about to give him the best blowjob imaginable. You didn’t know what Eddie went through, but you knew he was one of the most genuine guys you’ve ever met, and he deserved this moment.

You were quick to unbuckle his belt and pants before guiding your hand up his still-covered cock. Your fingers are hooked under the elastic waistband of his boxers, and his pulsing cock sprang free.

Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you… you knew he would be big, but you weren’t expecting him to be that big. How has he been hiding this from you all this time?

“What? What's wrong?”

“Eddie, you’re huge,” your mouth hung agape. In front of you is a cock at least eight inches long and thick, with a slight curve to the left.

“What? No.”

“You’re joking?” You laugh.

Eddie looks at you with a blank stare. Maybe laughing while his cock was out wasn’t the best idea.

“Eddie, I’m serious,” you take his length in your hand. “This is the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” It felt heavy in your hand.

"Really?"

"Really, I don't think it's going to fit?" You chuckle, a little worried.

"Can- can we at least try?" Eddie stutters.

"Don't worry, baby, I always like a challenge."

You didn't let Eddie respond before your mouth was enveloping the tip of his cock. You swirled your tongue around the head before taking as much as possible without triggering your gag reflex.

"Holy shit" Eddie instinctively grabbed your hair as you lowered your head down the shaft. His face scrunched up in pleasure.

"You like that baby?" You ask, popping up for air, your hand replacing your mouth.

"Yes," he sucked in a sharp breath as your hand applied the perfect amount of pressure to his cock.

"I can't believe you've been holding this secret from me for so long, naughty boy." You smirked before taking him back in your mouth.

" I-I-didn't-fuck! Didn't know?" Fuck why had Eddie been holding off on this feeling? This wonderful feeling of your beautiful mouth surrounding his length.

You worked your head up and down his head before Eddie pulled you off unexpectedly.

" I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."

"That's the point, baby." You smiled.

"But I wanna have sex," He rushes out.

"Okay." You smile, and you both stand up, taking his hand in yours. "Wanna show me your bedroom?"

Eddie frantically nods his head yes before he pulls you up the stairs to the bedroom. You giggle behind him as he runs up the stairs, trying not to trip as his pants and boxers are wrapped around his ankles.

He rushes the both of you over to his bed, and he lays you down before him before you can take off your clothes.

"Tell me what you want," you coo, tucking a piece of hair behind Eddie's ear as he hovers over you.

"You, I want you so bad," he whines between kisses.

"Good boy," you smile, and Eddie swears his heart stops beating.

"How do you want me?" you ask as Eddie's hands explore every inch of your still-clothed body.

"Naked." He kissed the exposed skin of your neck.

"Mmmm, good boy, tell me what you want," you say as Eddie's mouth finds your sweet spot.

You hear Eddie whimper at your praise, so you decide to keep pushing. In a moment of intense emotion, something inside him breaks. A deep longing takes hold of him, compelling him to be nothing but a perfect and devoted man for you. The thought of being your good boy fills him with an unfamiliar sense of need, one that he has never encountered before.

"You like it when I call you that, baby?"

Eddie mumbles an answer into your neck.

"What was that? I couldn’t hear you."

"Yes, please, I want to be your good boy." He rutted his bare cock against your wet panty-covered core, and it sent a wave of pleasure through you.

"Oh, Eddie," You moan. "help me take off my clothes," You ask sweetly.

Eddie waisted not another second before your shirt was over your head and your skirt ripped off of your hips. You managed your bra while Eddie did the honours of revealing your swollen wet pussy.

"How do you want me?" you ask as your fingers trace your pussy lips before opening your legs wide for Eddie to see you play with your pussy.

"I've died and gone to heaven." Eddie's eyes were wide as he took in your body.

"I want you to feel me, baby." you reach out for Eddie's hand and guide it back to your pussy like you had downstairs. You slowly guided his thick fingers through your folds, collecting your slick before you showed him where your tight hole was.

“Holy shit” Eddie couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you like this.

"It's okay, you can go in" You rocked your hips into Eddies and hoping his fingers would breach your cunt.

"Oh my god," You say in unison as his long, thick finger stretches you out ever so slightly.

"You're so tight." Eddie slowly tests the waters as he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy.

"mmmm, think about how good it's going to feel when my tight little pussy is wrapped around your big, thick cock"

Eddie's brain short-circuited, his hand stopped moving, and you let out a giggle when you realized you had broken his brain.

"Can I?"

"Just a little bit more warming up, baby. You're just so big I need to get ready for you." You bat your lashes at him.

"fuck you can't say things like that to me."

"Why you don't like it?" You tease.

"Quite the opposite, sweetheart."

"You wanna know a secret to a woman's pleasure?"

"Yes"

"You gotta pay a lot of attention to right here" You guide his hand to your swollen clit. You let out a moan when his fingers make contact with your bundle of nerves.

You show him how to circle it, and Eddie couldn't believe the sight below him. He was giving you pleasure. He could tell by your blissed-out face he was doing a good job; he was being your good boy.

"Fuck I need you now," you moan, feeling your orgasm build.

"I have condoms," Eddie blurts out.

"Good, go get one," you breathe heavy with lust. Eddie hops off the bed, almost tripping over his pants that were still wrapped around his ankles, making you giggle.

You watched as he reached his nightstand opening the drawer. Your pussy was throbbing, and you couldn’t take your eyes off how his shoulder blade jutted out, and his back muscles rippled and dipped through the large scar that covered most of his left side. Your eyes travelled down, and the perfect view of his perky ass was right there for the taking. So you can’t help yourself as you reach out and swat at it playfully, making Eddie jump.

“You’re a little minx.” he turns quickly, wrapped condom in hand.

Eddie quickly crawls back into the bed before unwrapping and rolling the condom down his throbbing length. Then he froze, not knowing what to do next?

“How do you want me, Eddie baby?” You playfully twirl a piece of his unruly hair around your finger.

“Can-can you be on top to start?”

“Layback for me.” You un-twirl your finger from his hair and gently push his shoulders back so he can get comfortable.

His cock lay flat against his stomach, passing where his belly button should have been.

Slowly, you wrap your legs around his body, aligning your centre with his. You take his girth in your delicate hand and guide his cock to your wanton hole. You glide his tip through your pussy lips a few times, teasing and collecting your slick before slowly sinking your way down. You let out a shaking breath as he splits you in half.

It took everything within Eddie to not rut his hips up into you; his knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets beneath him, trying to do everything not to plant his feel so he could to hold back.

He’d never felt anything so heavenly. You were so fucking tight around him. He couldn’t believe how amazing this felt. Your pussy was his own personal paradise, and he was never leaving.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck-“ you stuttered as your pussy adjusted to his size. The burn was long but so good, you wanted more of him.

Eddie watched as your pinched-up face relaxed, changing quickly from uncomfortable to pure pleasure when you reached the hilt.

“Holy shit,” Eddie swore he could have come right then and there if he wanted it. But he didn’t want it, not yet. God, he be damned if he didn’t make this moment last forever.

“You like the way my pussy is wrapped around your fat cock, big boy?” You start to rock your hips slowly, teasing the man who is falling apart beneath you.

Usually, you were always the one in his position, but you felt a power you’d never experienced. You wanted to be in control tonight; you wanted to make this so good for Eddie, your sweet Eddie with a monster cock.

Eddie jerked his hips up, and your pussy clenched. “Oh fuck!” Eddie cried as your muscles contracted around him. This was it; nothing could ever be better than this right now.

“You feel that honey? How tight my wet warm pussy is for you?” You start to bounce, and Eddie, stood, corrected.

He tried to hold on as your tits started bouncing in his face as you worked yourself up and down on his cock.

“Touch me,” you panted.

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. His hands snapped up to your hips gripping you tightly before he ran them up to your swollen breasts.

You throw your head back as Eddie pinches your nipples, exposing your neck. Eddie acts on instinct, wanting to ravage you, he sits up and latches his mouth onto your exposed neck, then down your chest to your perked nipples.

“Oh baby,” you cry at the sudden movement beneath you. The new angel only sank his cock deeper into your cunt. He was filling you so good, you’ve never felt this full.

“Can I - can we switch?” Eddie can’t take it he needs to fuck you, like really fuck you.

“Yes,” you were completely fucked out.

You let out a squeak as Eddie man handles you to be underneath him. He wastes no time pounding back into you the second your back hits the mattress. His sting hands are gripping your hips so hard you’re sure there will be finger shaped bruises. He nearly took your breath away as his hips snapped into your dripping pussy, your walls pulsed around him as his cock grazed that sweet spot that is deep, deep inside.

“OH EDDIE” you scream, eyes rolling back into your head.

It was music to Eddie’s ears. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He needed you to finish. He suddenly remembered the advice you gave him minutes before. His hand grazed down your body to your clit.

His touch sent a zap of pleasure through your core, only making your pussy tighten even more. His fingers worked your pussy slowly, a contrast from how fast he was thrusting into you.

Moans of ecstasy escaped your throat as your brain shut off. You were no longer in control; it was all Eddie.

“Baby, you still with me?” He coos in your ear.

“Fuck Eddie, don’t stop! I’m going to cum!” You wrap your legs around Eddie to pull him closer to you, not that it was possible. You wanted him buried inside of you forever.

“Come on, baby, come for me.”

You broke at his words. Your orgasm ripped through you as he worked his cock through your tight grip. Eddie broke as soon as you did no way he could hold on any longer.

A loud roar rips out of his chest as his seed spurts out of him into the condom that is buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck me, you sure that was your first time?” You giggle, still totally fucked out.

“Yep, guess you can say I’m a natural sex god.” his ego was definitely boosted.

“Mmmhmmmmm,” you nod in agreement. Rolling over to wrap a bare leg around his body.

Eddie couldn’t believe his life could be this sweet. He wrapped his arms around you and fell asleep with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Tags!: @nailbatanddungeon @s6raphic @3rd-conchord @sadbitchfangirl @gri959 @reidsbtch @taintedcigs @skyline4446 @babygorewhore @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @lesservillain @imyourdaninow @bimbobaggins69 @liminalpebble @keeksandgigz @lightcommastix @wtfmariaclara @st4rgirll3 @ali-r3n @xxhellfirebunnyxx

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours. 

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while. 

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve. 

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress. 

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him. 

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely. 

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice. 

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break. 

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it. 

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

[chimichaching]

I know it's bland, having an art block type moment ig.

After fiddleford left the project, Ford started to become delusional, having no one to keep him grounded in reality. He lets Bill possess him more frequently, to keep the one he trusted in the most in his life, he isolated himself from everyone, and Bill was all he had left. He hears Bill in his head, in his thoughts, and sees him in his dreams. When he wasn't in them, Ford would beg, or pray, to bill, afraid he'll lose him. Sitting in his room full of bill cipher relics, drawings, and tapestries for hours, he'd be finishing up the portal as Bill requested. When Ford did go out for food and toiletries, he'd ramble to others about Bill, how powerful he was, and how they'd benefit from his wisdom and power. Some would brush him off, others, looking for answers and already suseptible to manipulation and promises of an easier life listened. Bill, the narcissistic being he is, commands Ford to grow a following, a place of worship, Ford being the priest, his disciple.

As Ford loses his sanity, he believes anything bad or good that's happened to him was because of Bill being either pleased or displeased with him. He sees him in anything that had any resemblance of Bill, a yield sign, triangle perfume bottles, children's books, hell, even pizza and doritos! Feeling as if he was watching, anywhere at anytime.

Ford has finished the portal, or has put the finishing touches on it, allowing Bills plan to finally begin, Ford, his henchmaniacs and his cult help Bill in various ways, destroying the forcefield around the town, Bill begins his never-ending "party" with Ford as his devoted disciple and partner. The world goes into chaos.

The twins, dipper and Mabel, never visit gravity falls, Stanley never getting that call from Ford. The twins were not born yet, never stopping Bill, fiddleford still created the blind eye, but the group is forced underground to avoid danger as the cult grew. "The all seeing eye" was Ford's new cult he made for Bill, mocking the blind eye's group.

Dipper and Mabel are born into chaos, raised to fear and worship Bill and his henchmaniacs, however they rebeled, Dipper researching how to stop Bill, his henchmaniacs...and his grunkle Ford. Mabel has a knack for building weapons and is able to evade detection from gangs as she searches for food, water, and supplies for her and dipper in their hometown, piedmont, California.

Ok, ok, I know it's long, but i just needed to put this somewhere, I'm not a good story teller and I haven't truly read the journals or the book of bill just yet, I'm going off by the little I know from the show and what I've seen and read. I wanted to see an angsty AU, didn't find one or just didn't search hard enough, so...forgive me if it's totally out of order, thank you for reading and I hope I did ok. <3 it's also 4 AM where I'm at..so there might be mistakes.

[melswifeasf]

Can I please request Sam Carpenter x femreader

Sam and the reader were super close before Sam left Woodsboro for five years, Sam tried to talk and apologize to the reader, but reader keeps her distance from the older Carpenter girl. The two eventually reconnect at the end of scream V, reader goes to NY with Sam and Sam kisses Reader in the lobby instead of Danny.

In secret

Fandom: Scream

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

summary: you’ve been in love with Sam for as long as you can remember. the sad part? you could never tell her that.

Words: 4535

Warnings: kind of bad writing because this is my first time writing in second pov. kinda angsty but fluffy at the end. mentions of injury and blood.

Notes: thanks for the request! im not sure if i got carried away but i hope this was kind of what you wanted to see! pls keep the requests coming, i love writing for Sam. thinking about writing smut next, pls send requests if you have any:)

(not proofread)

living in Woodsboro your whole life had never been your plan. you always planned to leave as soon as you finished high school, get into a good college - or any college, really as long as it was out of California. the plan had been made with your once best friend, Sam Carpenter, she wanted similar things as you. the two of you had been best friends since middle school, having been in the same classes and you both shared the pain of losing one of your parents.

you had lost your mother to cancer and you might as well had lost your dad as well, he hadn’t gone a single day sober since the moment her heart monitor flat lined.

Sam had been the one to help you through it all, inviting you to her house almost every day so you wouldn’t have to go home to a drunk dad who would cry as soon as he saw you considering you were the spitting image of your mother. she was your best friend.. even if you were in love with her since the moment you landed eyes on her, as long as she was by your side you had accepted only being her best friend.

you knew about her dad and why he had left, although she never told you who her biological father was, she had told you about why her dad had left and how, much like your dad, her mom drowned herself in alcohol. she wasn’t around much though, spending most weeks away on business trips and leaving Sam with a debit card so she could buy whatever it is she and Tara needed.

you were both damaged but maybe that was what brought you two closer. it was in your junior year that you two decided to go to the same college, hopefully dorm together and leave your lives in Woodsboro behind. you made sure to help her with her grades even while she was in trouble with the law and taking any drugs she could afford. you stuck with her through all of it, how could you not? she was the girl of your dreams and you’d do anything for her.

you quickly realized the sentiment was not returned. the morning of Sams eighteenth birthday you had gone to her house to celebrate with her. you had gotten her chocolate chip pancakes and a smoothie, her favorite breakfast but when you arrived all you saw was a crying Tara and her mother with a ghost of a smile on her lips. Sam had left. without you. your plan to leave together had worked for her, she just didn’t leave with you. she left alone and she left you behind to deal with your own pain alone.

you hated Sam from that day on. maybe you were pathetic for not leaving, maybe it was stupid that you relied on another person so much but the only reason you wanted to leave Woodsboro was if you got to leave with her. otherwise there was no point, you’d be just as lonely as you are now, possibly even more.

so you stayed. settled as a real estate agent, you were liked by most in the town considering who your mom was so it was easy.

yet it wasn’t.

Sam left you behind but she took away a piece of your heart, a piece you needed to be happy again.

you tried dating, went on a couple of dates with a cute blonde and it worked for about a year until it didn’t. she was nice and practically the perfect girl but she wasn’t Sam. she wasn’t the girl who would hold your hand during class because you would get anxious around so many people, she wasn’t the girl would know how to hold you at night so you wouldn’t feel smothered but still feel safe. she didn’t know how you liked your coffee or what your favorite flowers were.

she just wasn’t Sam Carpenter and you loathed that.

you just wanted to move on with your life, be happy with someone else because you knew you’d never get her back.

but you were wrong yet again.

Tara was attacked by a ghostface, you had heard about it from Mindy and Chad. you still kept in touch with the group, having been there when Sam would babysit them. Tara had been the one to keep in touch with you from the beginning, she had told you that you were always welcome in her home even if Sam had left. you never took her up on that offer but that didn’t mean you didn’t make conversation with them if you saw them out in public.

the distinctive smell of bleach and latex made you sigh as you sipped on your coffee. you had gone to the hospital to check on Tara but once her friends were there you decided to step out and give them some space, you didn’t want to be the one adult in the room that made them all filter their words.

you didn’t want to leave yet, not until you told Tara that you were there for whatever she needed. maybe you should have left though.

a familiar girl with dark brown eyes and dark hair approached you in the waiting area. she was the same and yet different, her once completely black hair now had highlights and she seemed to dress differently now, her number jackets and boots long gone as she had on a simple green jacket.

Sam looked shocked at first, her eyes wide as she took in your body once, twice and finally they settled on your face.

you’re sure she thought the same about you, the once timid and shy girl long gone.

“y/n..” she whispered and took a step closer.

“hey” you said curtly as you refrained yourself from taking a step back.

“i-..” Sam spoke but cut herself off seemingly speechless. you almost chuckled.

“it’s fine, Sam. i should go” you said beginning to turn around so you can leave but a hand on your arm stopped you from doing so.

“wait. please.” there was a certain desperation in her voice you had never heard from her that made your heart rate pick up and a lump to form in your throat.

you sighed as you turned back toward her, you raised a brow to signal for her to continue with whatever it is she wanted.

“im sorry, y/n. i really am, i didn’t mean to hurt you” the girl said softly and her eyes were beginning to shine but you didn’t care.

“like i said. it’s fine. i really need to go though” you said not giving her a second to respond or even react as you turned back around and began walking away.

-

the sound of the news channel was in the background of your kitchen as you made yourself dinner. it had been a day since you saw Sam and you hadn’t spoken to Tara or anyone else since.

Mindy and Chad had been texting you updates but you hadn’t responded to any of them. it’s not that you didn’t care because truthfully you cared for those girls with everything in you but you couldn’t face Sam. besides, there was nothing you could do to help them other than drag them down, you would just be putting yourself in danger and having to add to their worries.

the smell of tomato sauce filled your sense as you mixed it, the pasta was already cooked and sitting in the strainer as you finished heating up the sauce. you weren’t very hungry but you also didn’t want to go to bed on an empty stomach.

as you continued to stir the food a faint crash echoed throughout the house. you stopped, you head snapping up with furrowed eyebrows. you kitchen was facing straight to the living room but it was empty, the only noise coming from it being the television that was still on.

you frowned as you reached for the remote and began turning the volume down. you stayed frozen for a second but it remained silent. you rolled your eyes, it was most likely just in your head. you didn’t turn the volume back up but you remained stirring the pot, once you thought it was enough you turned the stove off and moved the pot to the side.

as you moved to grab a plate to serve yourself, a sudden hand grabbing you by the hair made you instinctively grab onto them. you began to panic, your heart beating so fast you could quite literally hear it. you tried to wiggle out of their grip but they were too strong.

“let me go!” you yelled as you tried to kick them but you were doing so blindly and every time your foot connected with their leg, it didn’t make a difference. suddenly they let you go, throwing you onto the floor in the process. you breathed shakily as you turned to see who the hell was in your house but instead of being met with another person you were met with the sight of fucking ghostface.

your eyes widened and you slowly moved away from them as you tried to remember where you left the big knife. shit, it was in the sink.

ghostface tiled their head to the side, waiting for some kind of reaction from you. you couldn’t find a way out of this, if you moved he’d kill you but if you didn’t he’d still kill you. you took in a huge breath and looked down at his legs, without a second for regret you brought your foot down onto his leg as hard as possible and stood as he bent down to hold it.

you quickly moved to the sink where you expected to see the kitchen knife but it wasn’t there. tears began to form in your eyes causing them to blur and you were petrified. there was no way out of this, your phone was charging in your room and you didn’t own a gun or any sort of weapon that could help you.

a sudden sharp and dull pain on your back made a scream ripple from your throat. the blade entered you for a second time near your shoulder before you turned around. you tried to kick them once more but they swiftly grabbed your leg and stabbed you on your thigh making you cry out in pain.

your body fell to the floor as you clutched your leg in pain. there was blood. so much fucking blood and it was coating your hands making you begin to hyperventilate. ghostface lifted his knife about to strike you again and you coward down as you held your hand up. you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of pleading for your life so you didn’t, instead you swallowed your tears as you waited for the knife to enter your body one last time.

but it never did as your front door swung open to reveal Sam Carpenter in all her glory with Dewey behind her, he shot twice hitting ghostface before he ran away. Dewey quickly went after him whilst Sam rushed toward you. she bent down and held your leg to try and stop the blood.

“i think i’m dying” you said with a slight laugh, you were losing too much blood and you were starting to feel light headed. you wouldn’t be able to hold on much for longer.

“no, no you’re not. the ambulance is coming, okay? your gonna be okay” Sam said quickly trying her best to reassure you but you shook your head a small sob escaping your lips.

“it hurts so much” you cried as you felt your back gushing blood.

Sam had tears in her own eyes and her lip was trembling. you couldn’t make out her hand but you felt it shaking against your leg as she applied pressure to it.

“i love you, y/n. okay? you don’t get to leave me because i fucking love you and i can’t lose you. not now” Sam cried and shook her head.

you attempted to laugh but instead your body felt as if it were running out of oxygen as you coughed. you could make out the taste of blood in your mouth and knew it was over.

“five years too late, Sam” you attempted to joke but the look on Sams face made you realize your words hurt her even more. you frowned, “i love you too” you confessed softly, your hand reached for the girls face but you realized how much blood was on it so you stopped yourself.

Sam shook her head, “im so sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for leaving. i should’ve taken you with me, i should’ve given you the option to come. i..” but her words were slowly fading, just like your conscious.

-

a faint beeping noise lulled you awake. your mind was foggy and you could make out the distinct smell of bleach and latex. you were at the hospital.

you could feel a hand on your own stopping you from moving it and you could feel an oxygen mask on you. it took you a second to be able to open your eyes, they felt heavy and parts of your body felt sore. there wasn’t pain necessarily - although you assumed you were pumped full of drugs so the pain was pretty minimal to what you should be feeling.

slowly your eyes fluttered open. it was blurry at first but they steadily cleared and you looked at the weight on your hand.

Sam.

she had her head laying on the bed with her hand securely holding yours. she was in a hospital gown herself causing a worry to fill in the pit of your stomach.

“Sam” you said and squeezed her hand in order to wake the girl up. she did so after a couple of seconds, she lifted her head her eyes filled with sleep until she realized you were awake and she quickly wiped the sleep away.

“y/n. how are you feeling? are you okay?” she asked quickly moving closer to you. she looked exhausted, her eyes had huge dark circles under them and they were slightly red. you weren’t sure if that was from crying or just plain exhaustion.

“im okay” you said with a gentle smile, a wave of relief washed over Sam. she was still holding your hand tightly almost as if she were to let go you would slip away. “but what happened to you?” you quickly asked with furrowed brows.

Sam sighed softly, “ghostface attacked Tara and i. turns out the love interest always is the killer” she chuckles.

your eyes widened, “so your boyfriend..?” she nodded.

“him and Amber. he lured us to the house and well..” she trailed off motioning to her body. you shook your head, you never thought it would be Amber. you never really stopped to think who it could be but you definitely didn’t think it was Amber.

“how’s Tara?” you knew how close her and Amber were and you can’t begin to imagine how she must be feeling.

“she’s okay” Sam nodded, “she’s resting now. Chad and Mindy were attacked too but they are recovering as well” she said.

a soft sigh escaped your lips. this was all so fucked, they were all still kids and they didn’t deserve to be dealing with this bullshit. especially not from their own friend.

“what about you?” you asked worriedly looking at her body for a sign of where she had been hurt.

Sam smiled gently and waved you off, “i’m fine. just a stab wound” she said as if it were no big deal.

“Sam, what the hell. that’s not nothing, are you okay? where was it?” you hurriedly asked and began to sit up but quickly winced at the pain in your back.

Sam stood up immediately and held you down, “stop. don’t do that. the doctors said he didn’t hit any major arteries but you still need to take it easy.” she said making you nod.

until you remembered about your leg, you quickly removed the blanket to reveal it bandaged up, you lifted it slightly and let out a sigh of relief.

“your legs fine too. you’ll probably just need a bit of therapy” Sam said and grabbed the blanket to put it back over your lap.

a fluttery feeling spread across your chest, Sam was here. she was here and taking care of you when she was probably in pain as well. you shook your head with a soft smile and moved your body slightly to give her room. “lay down. being stabbed isnt for the weak” you joked earning a low chuckle from the older Carpenter girl. she listened to your words and laid on her side so she was facing you.

it was silent for a second, the only thing that could be heard was your heart monitor and the faint chatter from outside the room.

you had almost forgotten how beautiful Sam was. although you feel stupid for thinking that considering she had always been the most beautiful girl you’d have ever met. even after five years she still had the power to pull a smile on your lips with just her presence. she still gave you butterflies and that damn giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach. she was the only one who could make you smile even though you went through something so traumatic.

“can i ask you a question?” you said lowly. Sam nodded. “why did he come after me? i just mean.. i’m not really a part of your lives. maybe Tara’s life but i’m not really a part of the group or anything” you said slightly confused. besides, it’s not like you were related to any of the original ghostface victims.

Sam glanced down at your hands that were playing with her hair. she was nervous. you could tell by the way she wouldn’t meet your eye and the way her breathing began to grow heavier.

“i told Richie about you when i first met him. he had asked me if i had ever dated anyone and even though i hadn’t.. i said i dated you” she shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal.

you couldn’t help but smile, “why?”

Sam finally looked at you, “i don’t know” she shrugged again, “i always had a crush on you and we were so close that it almost felt like we were together” she continued.

she was playing it down but you could tell everything she was saying meant a lot to her.

god you felt stupid. this whole time you thought your love was one sided, you thought you were the helpless lesbian in love with her straight best friend when this whole time her feelings were recuperated.

Sam seemed to take your silence for being uncomfortable as she spoke again, “i’m sorry.” she shook her head and looked back down at your hand. “that was stupid. i shouldn’t have, we were best friends and i-”

you placed your hand under her chin and leaned forward to press your lips against hers in a soft kiss.

it was everything. the fireworks, the explosion of butterflies, the feeling of coming home.

it all made you smile and your teeth hit Sams causing you both to pull away with a slight giggle.

“i loved you too by the way. i thought you were straight so i just never told you” you said making Sam snort out a laugh.

“you thought i was straight? are you serious? do you know how many times Tara called me out for checking you out?!” she exclaimed making your eyebrows raise.

“oh? you were checking me out miss Carpenter?”

Sam rolled her eyes not able to control the smile on her lips, “whatever. i have no shame in it, you were hot” she shrugged making you laugh again.

“you weren’t alone in that”

you both fall silent, your hands intertwined in the middle of your bodies. this was weird, after five years of being alone you now had the girl of your dreams. it was surreal and almost didn’t feel real but Sams touch was grounding you. this was real. she was real and she loved you. just as much as you loved her.

Sam bit her lip nervously, “i’m sorry for leaving you. i never meant to hurt you. i thought that by leaving i’d be protecting you and Tara but i was obviously wrong” the girl said in a low voice. her eyes were lowered and you felt your chest tighten at the sight.

“Sam. stop. i understand now, maybe i didn’t before but i do now. although i don’t get why this all happened” you confessed a little confused.

at your words Sams head snapped up to look at you, “you don’t know?”

“know what?”

“well..”

-

one year later

never in your life did you think you’d be here. in New York dating the girl you’ve been hopelessly in love with and living with her and her sister. even when you were still friends, you never thought being together would ever be a possibility.

funny how that sounded now.

Sam had asked you out on a date a week after you were released from the hospital and it went great. it was as if she never left and there wasn’t a five year gap since you last saw each other. even though you were both different in some ways, having grown and matured into adults, you still complimented one another in all the best ways.

two months later Sam and Tara decided to move to New York and Sam had asked you if you wanted to go with them. she didn’t want to lose you and the difference between New York and California was too much. of course you accepted. there wasn’t anything keeping you in Woodsboro anyway.

the three of you moved into a three room apartment, you and Sam shared a room and you put up an anonymous flyer for a fourth roommate. that’s how you met Quinn. she was… interesting to say the least.

things were going great, Tara was going to school and although she wasn’t dealing with her shit as well as she should be, she was doing well for everything she went through. Sam pushed her to open up a lot but you tried to convince your girlfriend to give her space, she’d open up when she felt ready.

Sam was going to therapy, even though it wasn’t easy. you had to do a lot of convincing for that to happen.

Chad and Mindy were attending school as well and they were all as close as ever.

you still did real estate but you decided to go to school and major in something that had to do with law. you still had ptsd just like everyone else and maybe that was what pulled you toward the law side of school. either way it felt like the only way to be able to protect yourself and the people you love.

much like other Friday nights you spent it on the couch finishing up some last minute studying. Sam had therapy until a little later and considering the weekends were the only time you could spend time together, you tried to study whenever Sam was busy.

but your plans to make dinner with Tara to spend quality time together did not go according to plan. Tara had gone out with Chad and Mindy to a frat party, originally she had told you Sam was cool with it so you didn’t find a reason to alert your girlfriend about her whereabouts. turns out teenage girls lie quite a lot.

once it slipped out from Quinn, Sam grabbed your arm and pulled you with her to get Tara.

you didn’t care to protest, you found angry Sam hot so you simply followed the girl around. thank god you did considering you got to witness her tase a guy in.. his most intimate area.

you simply followed along even whilst Tara stormed away angrily and had to listen to her bash your girlfriend for simply worrying. you didn’t step in though, it wasn’t your place and you were well aware of that. you and Sam had only been together for a couple of months and although you were a part of Tara’s life for years now, it just didn’t seem right.

but that did not mean you didn’t step in when some bitch spilled her drink on Sam. you immediately pushed the girl back, about to swing a punch but Chad held you back making you even more mad.

now people were bringing their stupid conspiracy theories into the mix and Sam had been on the receiving end from a lot of people’s anger.

you sighed softly as you slowly walked down the steps. Sam was sitting on the last step with her face buried in her hands. you were silent until you were standing in front of her.

“hey” you said gently making her look up. you smiled sadly, “i’m sorry baby.” you whispered and reached for her hand. Sam shook her head.

“im so tired of this” she confessed with a tone of exhaustion in her voice. you understood what she meant completely.

“i know but we’ll get through this. we have to” you said. maybe you weren’t the best at comforting people but you weren’t sure what else you could really say. nothing you said could change the way other people viewed Sam or how Tara was simply acting like a teenager. “what can i do?” you asked as Sam began to stand. she shook her head, a detectable look in her eyes that you knew all too well.

you felt her hands on your waist and she slowly walked you backwards until your back hit the wall. “oh?” you chuckled amused.

Sam only smiled as she leaned in to press her lips against your own. you let the kiss happen, happily accepting her tongue in your mouth as you placed your hands on your girlfriends waist. she was desperate and you could feel her grip on your waist slowly tighten.

you sighed blissfully into the kiss, her soft lips moving hungrily against your own. but the more the kiss continued the more light headed you were becoming so you pulled away, her chest heaving.

“you smell like cherry coke” you said as your forehead was placed against Sams. you felt her body shake as she laughed and pulled away from your touch.

“you don’t like it?”

“oh no” you waved her off. “i love it. better than any perfume you own” she laughed with a shake of her head.

the sound was like music to your ears and it was your favorite noise in the world. a smile tugged at your lips. “i love you, Sam. i’ll be here with you every step of the way. okay?”

“okay” she confirmed softly.

and you were. from that day on you kept your promise.

[gunnrblze]

The Ghost boys as girly 2000’s pop songs (this is VERY unserious lol, having too much fun thinking about these grown ass men with these songs)

Hesh- Say It Right by Nelly Furtado (he’s so sexy help me)

Logan- Lovegame by Lady Gaga (his Lady Gaga energy is off the charts to me, I know he listened to this shit as a kid with Hesh)

Elias- California Girls by Katy Perry (Do I think I’m funny? Yes, I kind of do)

Merrick- So What by P!nk (I’m loosing my mind LMAO, grumpy ass angsty ole man)

Keegan- Don’t Stop The Music by Rihanna (in the way that Logan has Lady Gaga vibes, he has Rihanna vibes, makes sense to me like 2+2=4)

Kick- Sweet Dreams by Beyoncé (he’s a cutie pie basically)

Rorke- Fly by Nicki Minaj (cause he fell off the heli-)

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Secrets From a Girl

Masterlist

Word Count: 7.6k

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, slight hurt, ex!Jake

Context: Y/N, a very successful singer-songwrite has been close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet for several years. She once had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended painfully (you’ll see…). They eventually figured out how to remain on good terms for everybody’s sake. Only, seeing each other move on isn’t the easiest thing.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Previous Track: California

Chapter soundtrack: Secrets From A Girl – Lorde

Baby girl, no one's gonna feel the pain for you. You're gonna love again, so just try staying open, And when the time comes, you'll fall. Yeah, when the time comes, you'll fall. … Your dreams and inner visions, all your mystical ambitions. They won't let you down. Do your best to trust all the rays of light. Everybody wants the best for you, But you gotta want it for yourself, My love.

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)

Alright, let’s get into this.

________

Breathe me in, breathe me out I don't know if I could ever go without…

The dim glow of the living room greeted Jake as he stumbled in, still half-asleep. The boys huddled around Danny's iPad, their animated discussion creating a low hum in the room. An air of disagreement hung over them, their faces etched with differing opinions.

“I’m telling you there’s no way-” Josh's voice cut through the murmurs, his conviction triggering another round of mumbles from the others. Jake, now fully awake, couldn't resist the urge to join the fray.

“What are you all looking at?” he inquired, his curiosity piqued. The collective gaze shifted toward him, finally acknowledging his presence.

 “It’s this thing,” Danny turned around to face him, eyes still glued to the tablet in his hand. “There’s a music video that came out yesterday, and the press online is freaking out, saying Y/N’s in it-”

“I mean, it could be her,” Sam interjected, grabbing the iPad. “It’s not like it shows that much-”

“I've been telling you there is no way that’s her,” Josh rolled his eyes, exasperation evident in his tone.

“I mean,” Danny added, a hint of skepticism in his voice, “we see what? A waist? A neck? That could be anyone.”

“Thank you,” Josh said, his response laced with vindictiveness.

Jake grabbed the tablet from Sam, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the bright screen. The video unfolded before him; each frame scrutinized in his quest for confirmation. Emotions stirred within him, a blend of curiosity and a hint of something he couldn't quite put into words.

The woman in the video did seem to move with an uncanny familiarity, a subtle recognition tugging at Jake's senses. A quick exchange of glances with Josh only added to the intrigue. “What’s the name of the song?” Jake asked, nonchalant.

“Uh, it’s—” Sam replied, “something- fruit salad whatever—”

“Title’s here, see?” Danny pointed out, “Watermelon Sugar.”

The words unexpectedly struck Jake like a chord. He cleared his throat, a feigned nonchalance concealing the memories creeping the back of his mind. "I don’t know,” he mumbled, “could be her." He returned the iPad and casually making his way out the door.

"Where you going?" Sam asked.

"Gotta piss," Jake replied, his footsteps echoing through the corridor.

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, enclosing him in a small space. Resting his hands against the sides of the sink, he let out a deep breath before meeting his own gaze in the mirror.

************

The living room had been bathed in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains, that day. The faint crackling of the record player added a gentle melody to the lazy ambiance.

They were entwined on the couch, the vinyl spinning tales of bygone eras as if time had slowed down just for them. He felt the subtle weight of her against him, a comforting presence in the hushed tranquility.

Her soft hums danced in the air, a serenade that painted the room with a touch of nostalgia. It wasn't often that their hectic schedules allowed for such tranquil moments, making each second all-the-more precious.

As the last notes of the song played, the spell was momentarily broken. She stirred, a reluctant movement signaling an impending departure.

"Alright,” she announced, a practical reminder of the outside world, “I’m gonna be late." He caught her wrist, a silent plea for just a few more moments in this pocket of calm and pulled her back onto his lap. She let out a playful giggle, the sound a melody in itself.

"Five more minutes," he pleaded, a pout playing on his lips.

"Patty will be mad," she teased, rolling her eyes.

"Patty’s always mad," he retorted, nuzzling into the soft curve of her neck, losing himself in the intoxicating fragrance that was uniquely hers.

He lowered his head, and their lips met in a lingering kiss. The warmth shared between them seemed to suspend time. There was a quiet intimacy to the way their mouths moved together, a silent language only they could understand. After a moment, she gently pulled away, and he playfully protested with a melodramatic whine.

He looked up as she was grabbing her shoes. "Your lips always taste so nice," he mumbled, "How do they always taste so nice?" The question was posed with genuine curiosity, as if he were unraveling a mystery that had been haunting him.

Blushing at the compliment, she chuckled softly. "I don't know," she admitted, feigning innocence, "probably just my lip balm." Retrieving a pink stick from her pocket, she tossed it to him.

With a smooth catch, he examined the innocent-looking tube. Opening the cap, he took a moment to savor the scent.

He raised an eyebrow at the name on the label, "Watermelon sugar?" he said, "Doesn't smell like watermelon” he remarked, “or sugar, for that matter."

“Yeah?” she asked with a grin, “What does it smell like, then?”

He considered for a moment, tempted to confess what the scent truly evoked for him—her presence, her essence, everything that made her uniquely YN. However, with a sly grin, he opted for a less sentimental response.

"Strawberry," he replied, keeping his more poetic thoughts to himself. "It's nice."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she laced up her shoes. "Well, keep it," she suggested, a playful glint in her eyes. "I have, like, two hundred sticks hidden everywhere."

"I don't use lip balm," he stated.

“Not rock 'n roll enough for you?" she teased, slipping into her jacket. "Still,” she added, a playful glint in her eyes, “that way you can remember me when I’m gone.”

A quizzical arch of his eyebrow prompted him to play along. “Are you planning on leaving me, Y/L/N?” he inquired with a mock-serious tone, leaning into the charming act.

“Depends,” she retorted, her eyes dancing with mischief, “are you in any hurry to be rid of me, Kiszka?”

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Well, I wouldn’t say I’m in a hurry, per se, but—"

“Oh shush, you.” With a swift motion, she tossed it at him. “I’ll call you when I get out of the studio,” she declared, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips.

With a final lingering glance, she headed out, leaving him staring at her disappearing figure with a stupid smile, the sweet taste of her kiss still lingering on his lips.

If only he’d known merely two years later, they'd find themselves almost estranged, maybe, just maybe, he would’ve forced her to stay, maybe he would've held onto her a minute more.

******************

Kneeling on the cool bathroom floor, Jake opened the cabinet under the sink, his hands sifting through an assortment of Josh's hair products. His fingers finally closed around it—a small, inconspicuous pink stick.

A momentary hope flickered that perhaps his memory had failed him, but as he held it in his hands, the label staring back at him, reality set in. The words on the label mirrored those etched in his memory. Unease settled in his chest as he was reminded of the fact that, once, he’d been the one not wondering if he could ever go without Watermelon Sugar.

_____________

Jake returned to the dining room, the echoes fading away as he rejoined the ongoing conversation among the boys.

"Well, I mean, I guess we’ll find out soon enough, right?" Sam's casual tone filled the room.

"Oh yeah, when is she landing?" Danny's curiosity sparked.

"It was supposed to be at 3, but her flight’s been delayed, so she’ll have to come here straight from the airport," Josh informed, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and anticipation, "and you’d better be ready by then because we’re leaving for the venue right after."

"Sure,” Sam deadpanned, rolling his eyes at his older brother, “we’re going to take lessons in punctuality from you."

The American Music Awards were taking place in Nashville that year, providing a perfect opportunity for YN to reunite with the band. As Jake listened to the details, he couldn't help but feel a sense of strange apprehension. No matter how much time went by, how many girlfriends he went through, the prospect of YN's return always stirred up memories he had buried deep within.

The anticipation in the room grew, mirroring the excitement buzzing through the city. As they prepared for YN's arrival.

_________

A few hours later, a caravan of cars eventually rumbled down their street, an entourage of professionals descending upon the Greta headquarters. Security personnel, stylists, makeup artists, and hairstylists orchestrated a controlled chaos, transforming the residence into a bustling hive of activity.

Amidst the organized frenzy, Josh stood ready to greet YN's manager, a familiar face accustomed to the whirlwind that accompanied the life of a pop star. "Patty! It’s been too long,” Josh hugged the imposing woman. “Where’s YN?" he inquired, slightly concerned at YN’s apparent absence.

Dramatic as ever, YN's manager responded, "Pop stars, my darling, you know the drill. The airport was flooded with people."

"Is she still coming?" Josh pressed for reassurance.

"Of course she is. The show must go on!" she exclaimed with theatrical flair, "We just had to resort to... unusual methods," she added with a mysterious grin.

"Jesus,” Josh quipped, a hint of exasperation in his voice, “is she in a car trunk again?"

"A magician never reveals their tricks, sugar," she replied. "Anyway, in the meantime we can zhuzh y’all up,” she seized the boy’s face in her manicured hands before adding with a wink, “YN insisted."

The ambiance in the house shifted, embracing the essence of a backstage prelude before a grand performance. The rooms echoed with laughter, snippets of conversations, and the occasional hum of hair dryers. The scent of hairspray wafted through the air, blending with the underlying excitement that filled every corner of the space. The members of Greta Van Fleet, caught between the surreal and the routine, allowed themselves to be swept into the whirlwind.

The boys navigated the hustle and bustle of preparation with an air of practiced nonchalance. Their planned outfits, carefully curated for the grandeur of the Billboard Music Awards, exuded a sense of rock-and-roll sophistication. The expertise of YN’s staff worked wonders, transforming the brothers' already charismatic looks into something ready for the dazzling lights of the red carpet.

Suddenly, the house erupted in noise and stir as YN's arrival was announced. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as she was ushered inside, immediately surrounded by a flock of stylists and makeup artists. Their mission: to seamlessly transition her from airport-casual to red-carpet-glamour in 40 minutes time.

 Amidst the organized chaos, the brothers found themselves fighting to get close to their old friend, a playful struggle that Sam punctuated with a groan. "Hey, folks, this is still our house, you know?" he protested with a grin.

YN's eyes lit up as she looked up, her gaze finally meeting theirs. Her face broke into the brightest smile. "Hi!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying genuine warmth and excitement. The air crackled with a blend of familiarity and anticipation while they shared a collective greeting. Josh pulled YN into a tight hug.

Jake, with his trademark laid-back charm, extended a casual yet heartfelt greeting. "Hey there," he said, a lopsided grin playing on his lips.

Sam patted YN's head, "What's up, popstar?" he teased, a cheeky grin accompanying his words. As the hellos and laughter echoed in the room, it became evident that despite the divergent paths they had taken in the music industry, their connection remained unshakable.

"So sorry for the commotion, guys," YN said, an apologetic smile tugging at her lips, “I was stuck in JFK for hours.” Her eyes flickered with gratitude for their understanding, acknowledging the huge mess that had taken over the place.

"No worries," Danny chimed in with an easygoing shrug, brushing off any concern.

"Yeah," Sam nodded in agreement, “besides, it’s no more chaotic than any random Sunday morning at Josh's place.”

Josh, smiled tightly, “And guess who is not invited to my next brunch?”

YN laughed, appreciating the lighthearted banter. "I’ve missed you guys." She was suddenly called into another room for hair and makeup and disappeared into the whirlwind of her glam team.

___________

Josh made his way to what had once been his bedroom, now turned into a makeshift beauty salon. He settled into the chair beside YN, the room buzzing with the orchestrated chaos of hairstyling. She was sat, draped in nothing but a towel, her hair in the careful hands of a stylist. Amid the whirlwind of beauty products, Josh initiated their exchange.

"So…" he began, leaning closer to be heard above the loud blow-dryer, "anything new with you?"

With a radiant smile, YN responded, her voice rising to match the decibels of the styling tools. "Well, I'm excited for tonight," she shared, the anticipation of the upcoming event evident in her expressive eyes. Her words touched on the delicate balance of managing expectations in the spotlight, a window into the intricacies of fame that often lay beneath the surface. "What about you, love?" she asked, inviting him to share his own slice of life.

"Nothing much," he replied casually, though the inquisitiveness in his eyes betrayed a deeper curiosity. “Anything else?” he insisted, his probing question hanging in the air—It was a subtle dance, an attempt to delve into the unspoken realms between them.

YN eyed him with suspicion, a momentary pause of understanding passing between them before he met her gaze in return. She finally spoke, “You saw the articles, didn’t you?”

Josh grinned at her, his reply laced with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Well, I'm pretty sure a blind man could've seen the articles, babe," he quipped, drawing a light chuckle from the hairdresser immersed in her task.

 "Damnit," YN sighed, a touch of disappointment in her voice. The weight of public scrutiny and speculation was always an unwanted companion for her.

"So…?" Josh inquired, a mix of curiosity and disbelief in his voice as he awaited her confirmation or denial. YN remained silent, but a delicate smile betrayed her thoughts, a revelation that left Josh stunned. "Shit, it's true?" he uttered, the realization settling in.

“Our Y/N settling down,” Sam chimed in, entering the room, “I guess now we’ve really seen it all!” YN rolled her eyes playfully, the smile on her face still lingering.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Josh asked, his tone a blend of confusion and mild reproach, “We were on the phone literally a week ago.”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions under the bright lights of the makeup room. The soft hum of conversation around her, the subtle fragrance of cosmetics in the air. "It all went really fast. We met at a party in LA a few months ago and,” she paused, “I don’t know, we just hit it off, I guess?”

“Hit it off?” Sam remarked, glancing at his own reflection in the mirror, “I’d say it’s more than that.”

“Well,” A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she ran her fingers through her partially styled hair. “We weren’t planning on going public anytime soon,” YN explained, her gaze meeting Josh's, a sense of vulnerability lingering beneath the makeup and glamour, “but with the whole- music video thing, I guess it’s already happening.”

_________

Outside the room, the atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and tension. The hallway buzzed with the hurried footsteps of stylists and assistants. Jake, however, stood still, his eyes momentarily lost in thought after overhearing the conversation. The ambient light cast shadows on his face, revealing the subtle furrow of his brow.

As Danny approached, he could sense the undercurrent of unease in his bandmate's demeanor. "You, okay?" Danny asked, concern etched across his face.

"Mmh? Yeah, sure," Jake mumbled, but his voice carried a weight that contradicted his words. “I gotta go get dressed” he added, walking away.

__________

Back inside the room, the air carried a mix of emotions—joy, surprise, and a hint of playful banter. YN's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "So, everyone knows?" she asked, nervously glancing at Josh, who nodded affirmatively.

"I still can’t believe it," Sam laughed, injecting a playful tease into the atmosphere. "Going from rockstars to boybands?” he teased, “I gotta tell you, YN, that’s- that's quite a downgrade."

Rolling her eyes, YN couldn't resist the opportunity for a retort, "Oh, shut up." With a smirk, she grabbed a hairbrush and tossed it in Sam's direction, "I'll have you know he’s doing very well with his solo career."

"Not wrong,” Danny joined the conversation, “and if I remember correctly, you were the one insisting on playing 'Sweet Creature' in the car last year, Sam."

"We've all got our flaws," the youngest retorted dramatically, drawing a collective chuckle from the room.

"Come on, now, I’m serious.” YN said, her tone lighthearted yet somewhat defensive, “Be nice."

Josh was surprised by the protective edge to YN's tone, prompting him to consider the depth of her new relationship. "We're just joking around, don’t worry," he reassured her, "I'm sure he's great."

Sam, never one to back down, continued, "now, whether he's actually cool enough for you is a different matter."

With a nonchalant air, YN replied, "Well, you'll get to find out soon enough." Her words hung in the room, creating a brief lull in the conversation. Curiosity and a touch of concern crept into Josh's expression.

"How… soon, exactly?" he eventually asked.

“Well,” she giggled nervously, “now that you mention it. How would you feel about- um," she paused, "I don’t know,” she toyed with the hem of her towel before mumbling, “tonight?”

“Tonight!?” the three boys exclaimed simultaneously, their expression registering shock.

“Well, he is nominated-” she began to explain.

“Tonight, as in, two-hours-from-now-tonight?” Sam asked, trying to process the unexpected revelation.

“Well, what’s wrong with tonight?” she asked, her voice slightly trembling as she tried to stay calm, “it’s a night—a good night, I- I would even say it’s a- a great night, right?” she looked to Josh for backup, “Right?”

“Holy shit,” Danny muttered, uncharacteristic reaction for the usually composed musician.

"Alright," YN’s manager burst into the room, punctuating her entrance with grand gestures. "Everyone who isn’t working towards turning our girl into a couture creature, out!" she declared with theatrical flair. "We are out of here in twenty minutes!"

The room quickly cleared, with only YN and her stylists remaining in their spot. YN grabbed Josh’s wrist abruptly as he got up to leave. “Can you, uh-” she hesitated, avoiding eye contact, “can you give him a heads up for me?”

Josh nodded, gently. No clarifications were needed. “Of course,” he replied, before exiting the room.

___________

Josh had the finishing touches added to his hair before approaching his twin brother, who was engrossed in the meticulous process of tying his dress shoes. He hesitated before breaking the silence, "So, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but, uh-"

“I heard,” Jake cut him off, his eyes still focused on the task at hand, hands moving with a precision that seemed almost automatic.

“And,” Josh paused, choosing his words carefully, “you alright?”

“Sure,” Jake responded with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze shifting momentarily to the mirror as he fine-tuned the arrangement of his jewelry. Josh couldn’t help but feel a sense of surprise at the lack of reaction from his brother. It left him questioning his instincts. Maybe they truly had both moved on. After all, it’s true that Jake had been the first to get into other relationships.

___________

After twenty minutes, YN finally stepped out, a vision of elegance in a custom gown that could rival the most iconic looks from the fashion archives. The dress seemed to embrace her figure like a second skin, and Jake couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as he took in the sight.

 The room fell into a momentary hush as everyone's eyes were drawn to her, and even Josh found himself momentarily silenced by the sheer presence she exuded. YN's confident strides and poised demeanor demanded attention, making it clear that she was more than just a musician – she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Gucci, huh?” Sam smirked teasingly, “Someone's living the high life now."

“Well, Samuel,” YN shot back with a sly smile, "someone had to bring a touch of class to this crew."

"So, this is what happens when one sells their soul and upgrades to mainstream, huh?” Sam retorted playfully.

YN, always ready with a quick response, turned to Josh, "I’m sorry, is the person dressed like the Messiah talking to me?" she asked, gesturing toward Sam’s attire. Her comment elicited laughter from the room.

"Shots fired," Danny declared.

In the midst of the banter, YN stole a glance at Jake. His black suit complemented his rugged charm, an open shirt revealing a glimpse of his chest adorned with dangling necklaces. He looked good.

As YN hurriedly climbed into the awaiting car, a sleek black vehicle poised to transport her to the event, a flurry of stylists and assistants encircled her. In a synchronized dance, they meticulously attended to the final details of her immaculate ensemble.

 Several assistants, keen on maintaining the gown's pristine appearance, worked in harmony to ensure it cascaded flawlessly around her. Every fold and movement were handled with the precision reserved for a precious work of art. The atmosphere hummed with an undercurrent of excitement as YN gave a wave and a spirited shout, "I'll see you there!"

Meanwhile, the members of the band swiftly jumped into the back of their own designated car, the car door closing with a soft thud. The convoy of vehicles, an orchestrated ballet of anticipation, set in motion, leaving the house behind and heading towards the event that awaited them.

______________

The sleek line of black cars glided to a stop, marking the arrival of the band at the glamorous event. As the car doors opened, each member emerged into the dazzling spectacle of camera flashes and the cacophony of enthusiastic screams from fans and journalists alike. Stepping onto the red carpet, they were immediately swept up in the chaotic energy of the moment.

The band, accustomed to the electrifying rush of performing on stage, felt a subtle discomfort in the spotlight of the red carpet. The controlled chaos of a live performance was far more natural to them than the orchestrated poses and smiles demanded by the array of flashing cameras. Despite this, they maintained a polished facade, exchanging smiles, waves, and nods with the eager crowd.

Navigating the sea of journalists, each band member expertly fielded questions and posed for photos, their years of experience having honed their ability to navigate the less comfortable aspects of fame.

The sudden surge of screams reached a crescendo, capturing the band's attention as they turned to witness the arrival of YN. Her presence, ethereal and captivating, stole the spotlight. The custom gown she adorned seemed to possess a life of its own, catching the glow of the venue's lights.

 Her assistant fussed over the gown's train, making sure it trailed behind her effortlessly, as she stepped onto the red carpet, met with the undivided attention of everyone present.

YN was a natural at all this. Of course, anyone who truly knew her could see the slight tremor in her hands and the discreet heaving of her chest behind her composed appearance, but she played the part with finesse, engaging effortlessly with the cameras, flashing smiles, and striking poses.

With a radiant smile, YN gracefully walked towards the band. Deciding to seize the moment, she posed for a couple of photos with the band, creating a visual feast for the delighted fans whose cheers resonated in the background.

The intimacy was palpable as they exchanged smiles. After a brief interlude, they parted ways, the band venturing a little further to engage with journalists, while YN lingered, extending her time to pose for additional photos.

The band continued answering questions from journalists, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. Suddenly, a surge of deafening screams erupted from the crowd. Heads turned, and there he was – Harry Styles. Screams and gasps spread through the onlookers, all wondering if they were about to witness the confirmation to what they had all been speculating about.

Anticipation reached its peak as Harry walked over to YN. He gently grabbed her by the waist, and together, they posed for the cameras, effectively hard launching their relationship to the public as the flashes illuminated their smiling faces.

The band members exchanged discreet glances, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in their expressions. As they continued answering questions, their attention intermittently diverted to the unfolding scene. Fans were ecstatic, their screams echoing in the air, and journalists feverishly snapped photos of the unexpected couple.

Jake stood with a thoughtful expression on his face. The turn of events seemed to have unexpectedly caught him off guard. As he continued with the interview, his responses held a subtle undercurrent of distraction. The unfamiliarity of seeing YN in the arms of another man had stirred quiet contemplation within him.

______________

The prestigious event started with grandeur. Seated at separate tables, the band and YN navigated the star-studded gathering, each absorbed in their own conversations. The vibrant energy of the venue resonated with the collective excitement of attendees, a mix of industry luminaries, celebrities, and devoted fans. The stage, adorned with dazzling lights set the scene for a night of celebration.

As the ceremony kicked off, artists from various genres took to the stage. The evening unfolded and the band couldn't help but exchange amused glances and subtle eye rolls. Clear instances of lip-syncing from certain artists drew their collective skepticism, a sentiment seemingly shared by few others in the room.

The audience responded to each performance with cheers, applause, and sometimes even tears. Greta Van Fleet eventually took the stage with an electrifying energy that reverberated through the venue. The unmistakable sound of roaring guitars and thunderous drums filled the air as the band launched into one of their signature hits.

As Jake's fingers danced across the frets of his guitar, delivering powerful riffs that cut through the air with precision. There was a noticeable intensity in his playing, as though he’d been compensating for something unseen.

As the members of Greta Van Fleet walked through the backstage area, the exhilaration of their performance still coursing through their veins, they stumbled upon YN. Her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement and pride congratulating them enthusiastically. "You guys killed it up there, as usual," YN exclaimed, as she pulled them into a tight hug, always their number one fan. “I’m next, I have to change, but I wanted to see you all first.”

They were suddenly distracted by the sight of YN’s assistant carrying a ridiculously massive bouquet of roses into her dressing room.

 Sam to playfully inquired, "Loverboy?"

A shy smile tugged at YN's lips as she nodded, "He's- a little extra," she admitted.

Jake couldn't help but recall that YN had always preferred daisies to roses but chased the thought away immediately.

With a gentle nudge from Josh, YN snapped back to the present. "Alright, we’ll leave you to it then,” he said, “Give 'em hell," he added, maintaining a long-running tradition.

 "Sure will," YN replied as she headed off to prepare for her own performance.

As YN's name echoed through the venue, the crowd erupted into a symphony of screams, their excitement palpable. YN gracefully ascended the stage, adorned in a simple silk slip. A genuine smile played on her lips as the frenzy of the crowd intensified.

 The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as she settled behind the piano, her fingers poised above the keys. Once the audience calmed down, she started playing.

The audience fell into a collective hushed reverence, hanging onto every note and every nuance. Throughout the performance, glances exchanged among the crowd spoke volumes.

Amidst the sea of enraptured faces, Jake found himself descreetly drawn into the universe crafted by YN. From his vantage point, the stage lights framed her in a soft glow, casting an enchanting aura around her figure.

His eyes followed her every movement and the crowded venue seemed to fade away, leaving only YN and the echoes of her melody. The vulnerability in her performances always tugged at something within the guitarst, a reminder of the shared history that lingered between them.

As the final notes hung in the air, the applause thundered through the venue. Brought back to the present, Jake joined the enthusiastic ovation.

___________

The glitz and glamour continued to sweep through the venue. The stage saw a procession of artists and creators, each claiming their well-deserved accolades. Awards were handed out, speeches were delivered, and the audience reveled in the collective spirit of recognition. In this whirlwind of excitement, the moment for the most coveted award approached, adding a layer of suspense to an already dazzling night.

The atmosphere in the venue crackled with tension as Kelly Clarkson announced the nominees for the highly anticipated "Artist of the Year" award. YN's heart raced, and she fidgeted in her seat, her nerves palpable in the moments leading up to the reveal.

 As the presenter uttered YN’s name among the nominees, a surge of nervous energy gripped YN. Seeking solace, she glanced over at Josh, finding reassurance in his playful encouragement from two tables away—two thumbs up and an exaggerated, silly expression that managed to coax a smile from her. The room held its breath as Kelly Clarkson opened the envelope, unveiling the winner.

The cheers from the crowd enveloped YN as her name echoed through the venue, and she sat there, momentarily frozen, the magnitude of the recognition sinking in.

YN eventually rose from her seat, a mixture of shock and joy playing on her face. She took the first steps toward the stage. The anticipation of the crowd created a surreal ambiance, the cheers and applause merging into a harmonious melody of celebration.

However, as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a momentary panic seized her. The elegant expanse of her gown posed an unexpected challenge, leaving her unsure of how to navigate the ascent gracefully. In that heartbeat of uncertainty, a comforting touch enveloped her arm, and she turned to find someone had rushed to her side. Jake.

His presence, as reliable as ever, was a silent reassurance. Without uttering a word, he linked his arm with hers, a subtle gesture that conveyed both support and familiarity. Together, they embarked on the climb, the cheers of the crowd still in the background.

“Congrats,” he breathed with a prideful grin once they reached the stage.

She mouthed a “thank you” in response, her own smile mirroring his.

As Jake settled back into his seat, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on YN, who now stood poised at the stand, a mix of nerves and excitement dancing in her eyes. The room hushed in anticipation, the spotlight now solely on her.

As YN began her thank-you speech, all words seemed to momentarily vacate her brain, leaving a genuine vulnerability that resonated with the audience. The microphone in front of her captured the tremor in her voice as she expressed gratitude and humility.

"I-I uh, want to first extend my heartfelt appreciation to my incredible fans," she began, her eyes scanning the sea of faces before her. "I'm endlessly grateful for your unwavering support, God knows I’ve needed it lately," a chuckle erupted in the crowd.

The room hung on her every word, and Jake, from his seat, felt a surge of pride for the woman who had once shared her dreams and fears with him.

As she navigated the speech, a captivating blend of sincerity and humility. “Oh, gosh, so many people to thank, I already know I’m going to forget a bunch” she rambled nervously, and slight laughter erupted in the room.

“I’d like to thank my manager, my crew, of course, my friends, my, uh,” her gaze instinctively found the members of the band, seated proudly at their table, “my family,” she winked at them with a chuckle. The boys shared a collective moment, blowing a kiss her way, their eyes gleaming with shared triumph.

She continued expressing gratitude to key figures in her life and career, the room buzzed with a contagious energy. With a confident smile, she concluded her speech, leaving the audience with a poetic resonance that lingered in the air.

__________

The grand finale of the event unfolded like the crescendo of a spectacular symphony. YN gracefully danced through the maze of flashing cameras to reach her awaiting car, a modern-day muse amidst the paparazzi chaos.

The band, too, exuding the effortless cool of rockstars, threaded through the sea of lights in a rhythmic procession.

The engines hummed in harmony, syncing with the pulsating energy of the night as they embarked on a journey through the neon-lit streets, where every flicker tells a story of fame, music, and the allure of the after-hours. The fleet of sleek, tinted cars converged, creating a glamorous caravan destined for the city's heartbeat—the long-anticipated after-party.

____________

The club's entrance radiated a neon glow as the members of Greta Van Fleet strode through the entrance, greeted by the pulse of bass and the vibrant hum of the crowd inside.

The venue, a chic downtown club, pulsated with an electrifying energy.  

The band navigated through the throng of A-listers, the air punctuated by laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional flash of cameras capturing candid moments.

As the animated chatter and laughter enveloped the venue, Jake engaged in a riveting conversation with none other than Jimmy Page.

They were exchanging anecdotes when suddenly, the entrance erupted with cheers, prompting Jake to glance across the lively crowd. There, making a striking entrance, was YN, adorned in a sleek black dress, accompanied by her new beau. The cheers amplified as the couple embraced the spotlight, and Jake watched from afar.

Retreating from the buzzing atmosphere of the party, Jake immersed himself back into his captivating conversation with the guitarist. The exchange of musical tales continued to flow, momentarily sweeping away any unease lingering in his mind. However, after a while, he sensed the need for a change of scenery.

Making his way to the bar, he sought solace in the company of Sam and Danny. Ordering himself a whiskey, Jake leaned against the bar, the amber liquid a familiar comfort.

In the lively chatter of the party, he appreciated the anchor provided by his bandmates. Despite the external facade of confidence, Jake had never been much of a socialite, leaving that to his twin brother.

Events like these had a tendency to leave him longing for something stronger than whiskey, an itch he'd been trying to steer clear from for over two years now. Ever-mindful of the shadows that lingered within, he found relief in the presence of Sam and Danny.

Suddenly, Josh’s voice cut through the ambient noise. “There they are!” He led YN and Harry towards his bandmates, a grin on his face. As the trio made their way through the crowd, the anticipation among the band members heightened. Jake shifted slightly, his attention now fully on the approaching trio.

"Hey!” YN announced with an infectious enthusiasm as they reached the bar, “So, this is Harry," she squeezed her boyfriend’s arm, nervously, “And, Harry, this is the band.”

The boys exchanged pleasantries, Sam and Danny offering friendly smiles while Jake, not one to be overly expressive, extended a nod of acknowledgment.

Harry, ever the charmer, reciprocated the introductions with genuine warmth. "Pleasure to meet you all. YN's told me so much about you. Big fan.".

The exchange was cordial, and as it flowed, YN ensured everyone felt included. Harry, charismatic and engaging, effortlessly integrated into the circle, which seemed to make YN ecstatic.

As the conversation meandered through various topics, Harry turned to Jake and decided to share a common experience. "Love the long hair,” he remarked with a friendly grin, trying to strike a chord of camaraderie, “I used to rock it too, miss it sometimes."

Jake, initially caught off guard, responded with a hint of indifference, "Do you, now?" His tone, unintentionally brusque, drew a subtle side-eye from Josh, who discreetly stepped on his brother's foot, a non-verbal prompt to play nice. Caught in the act, Jake quickly corrected himself. "Well, short suits you, man,” he said softening his tone, “I've just always been too lazy to bother with haircuts, I guess."

            “If only Josh was the same,” Sam joked nudging Josh playfully, “I swear that one spends more time at the salon than the studio.” The tension diffused, and the conversation continued, albeit with a newfound awareness from Jake to navigate the social waters more gracefully.

The night continued its crescendo, the pulse of the party echoing through the lively venue. As Jake continued to sip on his drink at the bar, his gaze inadvertently gravitated toward YN and Harry. The duo, wrapped in the warmth of each other's company, seemed to float through the crowd.

The sight tugged at a spectrum of emotions within Jake’s inebriated mind. Harry's hand rested casually on her waist, a gesture that spoke volumes. Laughter flowed effortlessly between the two of them, creating an aura of intimacy that eclipsed the surrounding revelry.

The party unfolded in layers, each moment a brushstroke in the canvas of the night. Yet, beneath the surface of celebration, Jake couldn't shake the complex emotions that swirled within him. The alcohol served as a temporary buffer, but the currents of his contemplation ran deep, hidden beneath the veneer of the lively gathering.

Jake felt a sense of relief wash over him as he stepped into the cool night air, the bustling sounds of the lively club gradually fading behind him. Pulling out his phone, he swiftly ordered a cab to take him back to his sanctuary of solitude. Just as he confirmed the ride, YN's voice cut through the night.

"You're leaving, already?" she asked. Surprised, he turned around to meet her figure. Her eyes reflected a mix of curiosity and disappointment.

"Yeah,” he admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I'm exhausted."

Her gaze lingered on him, a subtle worry lingering in her expression. "You're not driving, are you?" she inquired after a moment, her concern tethered to memories of a past filled with reckless habits.

The weight of the implication made him sigh. "I ordered a cab," he reassured her, hoping to ease the concern etched on her face. Despite her attempts to appear nonchalant, the genuine worry in her eyes didn't escape him.

"Good," she nodded, a soft exhale escaping her lips. A brief pause filled the space between them before she added, "It's a shame you can't stay longer."

As the night air embraced them in a cocoon of quiet, Jake sensed the nervous energy radiating from YN. No words were needed to decipher the unspoken thoughts swirling in her mind. With a knowing smile, he addressed the unspoken concern.

"Tell Harry bye for me,” he said, his tone light and reassuring “he's a cool guy."

YN's face immediately lit up, gratitude and relief washing over her. "I will," she responded.

In the ensuing quiet, a gentle moment lingered between them. "Alright," Jake said, breaking the silence, "you should go back inside; you'll freeze to death out here."

"I'm okay," she insisted, a subtle shiver instantly betraying her words. Without hesitation, Jake peeled off his jacket, but just as he handed it to her, Harry's voice echoed from within the club, disrupting the tranquility.

"YN, love, are you coming back in?" Harry's call prompted a sudden pause in the exchange.

Realizing the implications of his gesture, Jake hesitated before gently urging her, "You should go." She looked at him hesitantly. "I'll be fine," he insisted, his eyes holding a quiet reassurance.

As she pondered, a gust of chilly night air swept through. The glow from the club's entrance cast a soft halo around her silhouette. The distant sounds of laughter and music from the after-party lingered, creating an ethereal backdrop to their conversation.

"Alright, but-” she hesitated, looking down, “that means I won’t see you before flying back,” she confessed, her voice holding a note of longing, the unspoken yearning for more time evident in her eyes.

“You’re not staying at the house?” Jake probed gently.

Her response wavered, caught in the delicate balance of unspoken truths. “No, I- uh,” she stumbled over the words. Realization dawned on him – Of course she would be staying in a hotel with Harry. “I-”

“Gotcha,” he interjected, sparing her the need to articulate the unspoken details. The ambient sounds of the night heightened the tension, the brief pause heavy with unspoken sentiments. A distant laugh, the muted beat of music, and the cool breeze carried a collective weight.

“YN?” Harry's voice echoed once more, a reminder of the reality waiting inside.

“I’m coming!” she shouted back. She turned her attention back to Jake, “So…” she said, “I’ll see you soon?” He nodded in response and she retraced her steps toward the illuminated entrance.

She stopped in the doorframe. “Jakey?” she called once more, her hesitancy palpable as he turned to face her again, “Take care, okay?”

He smiled. “You too,” he replied as she disappeared through the door, leaving him in the embrace of the quiet night, his thoughts as contemplative as the stars overhead.

Next Track: Style

Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

[natalicss]

bad love ; eddie munson

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie and you broke up for a simple reason. eddie’s life-goals didn’t work out, but yours did. five years later, robin tells eddie that them & the others have been added to a guest list for a surprise show in indiana. now eddie has to decide if it was a mistake to go.

warnings: celebrity!reader , mentions of drugs, slightly toxic!eddie , angsty , this is my first fic so please work with me here i’m not good with warnings

word count: 2.4K

nat’s notes: the song that the reader sings about eddie is bad love by lita ford. listen to the full song & you’ll kinda see how she felt about eddie after their breakup HAHA. like i said this is my first fic on here so not only am i nervous but i am having a hard time laying this out LMAO. i know reader doesn’t do much BUT if we want a part two after the show where everyone goes to hang out with her after the show (& maybe we get to see why eddie & her broke up??) LET ME KNOW. nonetheless, enjoy!!

Eddie Munson had this big plan.

Get the hell out of Hawkins, move to California, and become a rock sensation. Groupies at every show. Drugs piling tour buses. Paparazzi, interviews, photoshoots, you name it, Eddie wanted it. He wanted to make music. To scream his lungs out into a microphone while thousands of people cheered him on below. He wanted to bask in stadium lights while girls cheered his name. He wanted to give a big fat middle finger to Hawkins and all the people in that shithole that ever doubted him.

But that was five years ago. That was when he still had a dream. An unrealistic one.

25 years old and Eddie Munson was no longer one to make big plans. He stayed in Hawkins, moving to another trailer only down the street from his uncle, and became a mechanic. Because apparently, fixing cars was all he was good at after Corroded Coffin fell to shit. Nobody else seemed to share his dream when college came around. Or girls, weddings, and kids. Everyone seemed to sink into their cozy and easy mediocre lives. Everyone seemed to be happy, or content at the least.

Eddie hated it.

He hated Hawkins. He hated the people in Hawkins. He hated how every time he went to the grocery store he’d bitterly see couples like Steve Harrington and his fiance going on their similar grocery trips. Or Nancy and Jonathan Byers, a small boy on the Byers’s hip while Nancy’s hand was on her growing stomach. Or even young Max Mayfield and Lucas Sinclair, who usually only stopped by to get snacks for the weekly movie night they had. He hated how when he met up with high school buddies they all talked about their successful lives. Dustin Henderson had a successful job and managed to bring Suzie to Hawkins. Mike Wheeler was in college, breezing through it. Gareth Emerson had a wife and now a baby on the way, despite only being in his early 20s. Eddie hated hearing how happy everyone was because he was miserable.

And that magazine on the table was a reminder.

A VOGUE rested on Steve Harrington’s coffee table. From his fiance, likely. On the cover, a girl with familiar features with colorful lipstick that complimented her skin tone. White lace collar peaks from the bottom of the photo. She was beautiful. Just as beautiful as she was five years ago. Her sparkling eyes that made his heart swoon, and her sultry look that made his pants tighten as if he imagined it in real-time.

Y/N L/N.

He remembered her perfectly. How could he not? The two of them were soulmates. At least he thought they were. They had a big plan. Get the hell out of Hawkins, move to California, and become the hottest couple in Hollywood. But Eddie didn’t get that far. No. But she did. She didn’t have a band holding her back. She didn’t have a trailer-park salary. She came from a good neighborhood and a half-decent family. Most importantly, she was sweet and charming. She swooned a big manager when she stayed in Nashville the summer after graduation. Shortly after, she was moving there to become a star. And a star she was. Her name decked in lights. Her face was on every magazine. Award shows, celebrity best friends. She made it. She had gotten the life she craved. The life Eddie craved.

And she left him in the dust.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t like that. At all. But Eddie didn’t care. He hated how she seemingly left him behind when all he wanted was for her to stay. It was selfish. But once again, Eddie didn’t care.

“Is that Y/N?” Dustin audibly gasped as he reached for the magazine, pulling it to his face to inspect. “Holy shit! VOGUE!”

Max Mayfield snatched it from his hands. “She looks hot.” She stated bluntly.

Mike scoffed. “Y/N was always hot. Lucas had a huge crush on her when we were, like, twelve.” He bluntly replied.

“She smashed a demo-dog’s head in with a guitar! Hell yeah, I had a crush on her.”

Robin Buckley, who was on the couch with Eddie, ate from a bowl of popcorn. “I got a call from Y/N recently.” She hummed casually. Everyone, especially Eddie, snapped their heads in her direction.

Steve gawked at his best friend. “What? Why?” He sat in his armchair, leaning into the side as he tried to get closer to Robin.

“She’s having a surprise show, I guess. The five-year anniversary of her first album.” Robin explained as she waved her popcorn-filled hand. “She was making a guest list, and we all just happen to be on it.” Everyone in the room bursted into excited cheers. Dustin and Lucas high-fiving loudly while Mike and Will shared big smiles. Max looked back at the magazine with wide eyes, as if wondering if the girl she looked up to growing up was going to climb out of the glossy paper.

Eddie didn’t move. He looked at Robin with wide eyes and disheveled hair. His mind wasn’t there anymore. It was back to the last night he saw her. The glossy tears in her eyes. The hoarse tone of her voice. His rough shouts. The redness of his face from anger. The door slammed as she left to pursue the life she now has.

“When’s the show?” Nancy asked, unsure if she’d be able to make it when her baby would be due in a few weeks.

“Next weekend!” Robin gushed. “Y/N’s manager said they’d have everything sorted out. Nancy, you’ll be backstage with Jonathan while the rest of us are front-row barricades for the show. And then we’ll be able to see her right after the concert ends.” She rambled and talked fast, but seemingly everyone understood what she was saying. Eleven was bouncing in her spot excitedly. She hadn’t been to a concert before.

Steve looked over Robin’s shoulder, seeing Eddie’s worried gaze. He craned his neck, maneuvering himself in an uncomfortable manner to catch the Munson’s eyes. When he did, Eddie was brought back to planet earth. Blinking repeatedly, Eddie looked at his close friend with raised brows. A silent what’s up?

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” He informed Eddie. This time, everyone’s eyes went to their metalhead friend. He shifted uncomfortably under their eyes. His skin felt hot and his stomach was churning. What was he feeling? Nerves? Anger? Jealousy? Heartbreak? All of the above?

Eddie gave an unconvincing smile. After all, everyone assumed they had ended things on good terms. He shook his head quickly. “Are you kidding me? I’ll never say no to a concert.” He chimed cockily, earning snickers from his friends as they began to excitedly chatter about their upcoming show. Eddie sunk into the couch slightly. What could go wrong?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was a mistake coming here, Eddie thought. But it was too late now.

Here he was, crowded by hundreds of people that had heard of this supposedly last minute show in Indiana to celebrate the fifth anniversary of her first album, titled Most Wanted. The irony, Eddie thought. He recalled when Hawkins had believed that not only he had killed Chrissy Cunningham, but that Y/N L/N had helped him after Jason Carver had gotten his ass kicked by her. She had been on the run from the police for two days before the others found her again.

Eddie hadn’t listened to much of the album. He heard the single that had come out, which was basically a female rock anthem that Max and Eleven loved. It was a good one, but Eddie knew that. He had been there when she wrote it.

Somehow, Eddie hadn’t really thought about what would happen when he saw Y/N in person for the first time in five years. He had seen magazine photos of her. Just two days ago, there was a paparazzi shot of her in New York City. She was wearing light-washed jeans, a faded T-shirt, a large leather trench coat, black boots, and dark cat-eye sunglasses. She looked like a star, even in photos as simple as that.

So when the lights shined and she was suddenly ten feet away, Eddie forgot how to breathe.

She was wearing leather pants and boots. A white tank top she had cut the end off to make it her preferred length. Her makeup was dark and glamorous, and her hair was styled perfectly. She looked ethereal. She basked in the warm stage lights and it was light whatever higher power there was knew exactly how special she was. Eddie wasn’t much of a religious man, but he thanked god that there was a girl as beautiful as her.

The first note of the opening had sent the crowd into overdrive. It was the song Eddie knew. Max and Eleven screamed excitedly, bouncing up and down as they began to scream the words. Her voice. God, her voice was everything to him. Something that used to send him to sleep while he rested his head on her chest. Of course, in those times it was softer. This was strong. Powerful. The world finally got to hear the powerhouse she was the way Eddie used to when they sang in his van. And every time she spoke he felt his heart break a little more. It was slightly different now. She maybe had a slight southern accent from living in Nashville for five years, but her tone was different now, too. She was bolder, louder, and more sure of herself. The insecure girl was completely gone.

He wasn’t even jealous anymore. He was just sad. Sad that his only memories of this girl he had been in love with for so long were nothing more than that. Memories. That he no longer got to hear her song ideas. Her sweet hums in the shower. He no longer got to see her tiredly roll out of bed and trip over her feet. He never got to see her dance the same way she was now but in his t-shirt. Eddie no longer got to wrap his arms around her. He no longer saw her beam up at him when he came to her doorstep with flowers.

What had gone wrong?

“I have one more song for the night.” She panted into the microphone as the crowd screamed. Seemingly over two hours had past before Eddie could even realize it. “Are you having fun?” Eddie flinched as Robin, Eleven, and Max screeched loudly while Steve, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Will all let out cheers and whoops. Her smile widened. Eddie could’ve sworn he didn’t remember her smile being that beautiful. “Okay, so I wrote this song a little bit after I moved to Nashville. I wrote it in a time where I was moving on from a chapter of my life.” I had broken up with my boyfriend and I was finally getting to a stage where I stopped blaming myself, is what she didn’t say. “And, well, this song is about that.” Everyone cheered. Eddie thought about the few songs he knew, but this one wasn’t coming to mind. “This is called Bad Love.”

As the guitar began, everyone cheered again. Eleven and Max began talking into Mike’s eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice their eyes on him. Eddie looked back at the stage. For a moment he could’ve sworn her eyes were on him.

wake up now darling, i got a reason to believe this love ain't gonna last the night.

you've opened my eyes, now i'm a little bit wiser, a little bit colder.

Eddie felt his heart sink. He watched her singing. Her eyes screwed shut or looked out into the crowd. But never at him. She wouldn’t look at him. He knew what this song was about. He knew it as soon as the first words were said.

so stop what you're saying, it's more than i can take.

we've reached the end, there's no defense.

i had enough of this bad, bad, love.

Funny enough, Dustin was screaming the words to the song as if he personally related to it. It caused Lucas and Mike to stare at him questioningly, meanwhile, Will joined in with just as much enthusiasm. Steve was smiling like a proud brother, which was pretty accurate considering his and Y/N’s friendship.

don't fool yourself, i could never forgive you and i damn sure won't forget.

in heaven or hell, every tear that i’ve cried will come back to haunt you yet.

don't be surprised if one of these mornings bad luck comes knockin' at your door.

oh, no, you'll find out–

“hell hath no fury like this woman that you've scorned!” Dustin and Will screamed as they leaned into each other. Max, Eleven, and Robin doing something very similar.

Y/N was walking across the stage to the far corner, interacting with the people up front as she sang. She looked beautiful. Completely in her element. She walked back towards the center, lights basking in her beauty. This was what she was made to do, and Eddie could tell. She was meant to perform and put her life into music. Turn chapters of her life into songs. Even her and him.

stop, don't say it.

don't try to make me see.

we've reached the end, there's no defense.

Then she looked at him. The first time she had the entire concert. It was as if time froze and the two of them were the only people in the world. They were teenagers again. They were the same people that had screamed and fought and kissed and made up. They were in love again, and then they were slamming the door on their relationship. Eddie knew it then, but he knew it more now, that he was the one that slammed that door. He was jealous. He was bitter. And he had taken it out on the one person that cared. Because of that, she was standing on stage singing a song she wrote about him after she realized the same thing.

“i had enough of this bad, bad, love.”

[filmsmakkari]

LA Girl Magic

warren rojas x fem!reader

Summary: Warren Rojas always dreamed of Los Angeles. The clubs, the music, and the ridiculously beautiful women.

CW: Sexual-ish content but no actual smut, a little angsty at the end. As always my (Y/N) is assumed to be black and sometimes such is implied but definitely not enough that others can't read.

June 1979

Everyone always dreamed of Los Angeles. The warmth of the Californian sun, the waves crashing against the Venice shore, the palm trees lining the streets. LA was the land of opportunity. And when you wished on Los Angeles stars, it felt like they would always come true. LA was the dream. Endless sunny days, ridiculously beautiful girls, and freedom to do and be whatever you wanted.

Los Angeles was everything for a band from Pittsburgh, where the only options were the mill or the army. So when Billy Dunne asked Warren Rojas about the possibility, Warren immediately went out and bought a van so the band would be ready to make the drive. It more or less cost him everything he had. It was crazy, but he somehow trusted it.

And boy, he couldn't have been more right.

It didn't come immediately. Weeks of phone calls that lead to nowhere. Finally meeting Teddy Price, and then being put through the wringer by him for months, a canceled tour, and being so dirt poor that he had to steal toast from restaurants. Enter Daisy Jones. Look At Us Now comes out. Sold out shows, gold records, and more drugs and women tearing at his pants than he could have ever dreamed of when he was just some skinny, curly-haired kid in Pennsylvania. The Six were living the California dream. He always said Daisy had "LA girl magic." He even tried to get Billy to write a song about it. 

It was July 1st, 1979, the LA date of the Aurora tour. For Daisy, it was the hometown show, but she had always said she didn't have anyone in LA, no parents or extended family in the whole city. So everyone in the band was surprised when she said she'd have a childhood friend coming for the show. The shock became even greater when Daisy walked into the green room laughing and smiling with (Y/N) (L/N). 

(Y/N L/N) was the "it girl" before that term was coined. A gorgeous Hollywood starlet. An Oscar winner at ten, a Vogue cover at 15,  a sold out world tour at 20, and a star on the Walk of Fame by 21. She was currently working on her sophomore album, and the world was waiting to see how she'd elevate herself further. But in the meantime, she was staying on the public's minds with her new Chanel film being aired on every TV in America, in which she played a songbird stuck in a cage next to a bottle of Coco Mademoiselle. (Y/N) had the talent that made her the critic's darling and the incredible beauty that made her desired and hated.

Warren's breath caught when he looked at her.  (Y/N)'s hair, dark like a raven's wing,  tumbled down her back in long curls. She wore a pale blue Halston jumpsuit that made her skin shimmer, and diamond jewelry added to the effect. And her eyes… oh God, those brown eyes. Warren would bet that she'd be able to finish him with just her eyes.

His cheeks slightly heated up at his thoughts as he watched her introduce herself to the band members. She approached him last, wrapping her arms around his neck, saying, "Hey, it's so nice to meet you! I'm (Y/N)."

Warren stuttered slightly, removing his hands from her waist and looking into her eyes. "I-I know."

(Y/N) chuckled. "And are you gonna tell me your name, drummer?"

"Warren!" he rushed out embarrassingly quickly. "I'm Warren Rojas."

(Y/N) smiled. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Warren." 

Warren loved the way his name sounded on her tongue. He wanted her to say it over and over again.  He wondered what it'd be like to hear her scream it. 

These thoughts remained on his mind as he played as hard as he could that night, knowing she was watching and wanting her to feel every beat. Warren knew that people usually didn't pay attention to the rhythm section during concerts, too interested in the lead guitar or frontman to notice the lonesome drummer in the back, but just knowing there was a chance that (Y/N) was watching him, Warren played that drumline like it was his last night on earth.

Teddy was waiting as they all walked backstage, giving the usual pats on the shoulder and congratulations. 

"Hey, Rojas," Teddy called as Warren cracked open a beer. That is the kind of performance I expect from the best drummer in rock' n roll!" Warren had never received such high praise from Teddy, and the compliment made him swell with pride.

"Hey, call it the LA girl magic," Warren said with a shrug and a smile.

Teddy furrowed his brow, "I have no idea what you're talking about, son, but if that's what made you play like that, I need you to use it every night." 

˖°🌊🎐𓇼⋆🦪₊

The afterparties in the bus were always wild, but tonight was different. The Six had just played one of their best shows of the tour, so they decided to rent out some random bar on Sunset to celebrate specially. Beautiful bodies of men and women were swaying to the sensual rhythms and blues blaring from the boombox, and there were pills and powders sprawled across the tables that could only be found on the dirtiest streets of the City of Angels. This night was on fire. 

Now, on a normal night, Warren probably would have grabbed a blonde with nice tits and a brunette with nice legs and taken them anywhere with a working lock on the door, but on this particular night, even the tightest skirts wrapped around girls just begging him to lift them around their waists and bury his face in between their thighs weren't the slightest bit tempting to him. Instead, all his attention was on a certain LA girl with dark features and the voice of an angel. 

(Y/N) and Daisy were currently standing on a table, swaying their hips in a way that could only come naturally to girls who were stumbling out of clubs like these in tight dresses and runny makeup when they were 14. All of the men stared at them hungrily. All the girls tried to emulate their movements. But none could mimic the harmonies they sang over the random guitar melody playing. Their voices were enough to bring the roof down. 

Warren was in fucking awe.

He'd gotten used to Daisy's voice. The power in it, the way she sang from deep in her belly and sounded like her voice was traveling over rocks to produce the sound. Daisy's voice was the pure essence of rock n roll.

But (Y/N)? Her voice was hauntingly beautiful. And in the teal shimmery dress she's changed into for the after party, with slits on either side, she looked like she'd come from the depths of the sea to lure men in with her siren call. Her voice was alluring but dangerous. It pierced its way through Warren's heart, and in that moment, he would've done anything she asked him to. 

"Huh," he breathed out. "LA magic."

"What was that, love?" asked the red-haired girl who'd taken it upon herself to wrap her arms around his neck and move her body against his. 

"Excuse me," said Warren, shoving her off and walking towards (Y/N). A sailor drawn to a siren, he approached the table and called her name.

(Y/N)' s eyes widened happily when she saw him. "Warren!!" She climbed down from the table and wrapped him in a tight hug. "You did so well tonight, congratulations! The drumline in "Let Me Down Easy" made the entire number- no one could have played it better!" she yelled over the loud music.

Warren exhaled and smiled. "It's just nice to know someone's listening." 

(Y/N) let out a giggle, folding her lips before turning back to the table. "Daisy-jay!" she yelled at her friend. Daisy had already found another way to occupy herself, playing some sort of game involving vodka and a chocolate bunny. "Yeah, (Y/N/N)?"

"I'll be right back! Save me a shot!" (Y/N) yelled before grabbing Warren by the wrist and dragging him outside the club. 

The pair heard Daisy yell out ",Hey! Don't have too much fun you two!"

(Y/N) exhaled a deep breath, taking a few steps forward and staring up at the sky. "It's a full moon tonight, Warren."

Warren stood beside her. "Yeah, no stars though."

They looked back at each other, brown eyes meeting brown eyes in a warm dance. 

"There are never stars here," (Y/N) said with a smile. "Something called light pollution, I think. From all the city lights everywhere."

"I love the city lights. Seeing them reminds me that we made it. That we're really here." Warren closed his eyes for a moment. "But some nights I miss the stars. Back in Pitt, I could always see hundreds of stars from my window. Started chartin' em like I was part of Apollo 11 or something," he said shyly, letting out a dry chuckle.

"That's amazing, Warren." (Y/N) smiled at him so beautifully and kindly. He knew she meant it.

"I didn't know you were from Pittsburgh," she said.

"Mmhm. Been friends with all the guys since I was a kid. But I was actually born in Botogá. Shot over to the U.S. when I was three."

"Colombia?" 

Warren nodded with a smile.

(Y/N) hummed. "I guess now's a good time to mention that I've always had a thing for foreign men. Only guys I usually like more are drummers in rock bands," she said nonchalantly, looking back at the moon.

Meanwhile, Warren felt like his heart was in his fucking ass.

He swallowed nervously. "W-well I have a thing for Hollywood girls."

"Oh, really?" she said casually. 

"Yeah," Warren said, building up his confidence. "'S part of why I chose to move here. I knew that even if the music thing worked out, I'd still be able to find a girl from the city of angels to take me to heaven." Warren pushed a stray curl behind her ear, and for the first time in the whole night, (Y/N) was the nervous one.

Warren felt the change in dynamic immediately and decided to take a risk.  He leaned in,  searching (Y/N) 's eyes for any sign of rejection. When he saw none, he closed the gap between them, seizing her lips with his in a passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling the tall man downwards. He grabbed her by her waist, exposed by the slit in her dress, pulling her closer. (Y/N) let out a small moan at the feeling of his touch on her skin, and Warren took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, increasing the wetness accumulating between her legs.

The pair finally pulled away for air, staring deep into each other's eyes silently. 

"Do you want to see heaven, Rojas?" (Y/N) asked breathily. 

Warren's lips were swollen, and his pupils were dilated as he spoke, "I'll follow wherever you go, angel." 

(Y/N) caught his lips in a quick kiss before walking over to the phone booth and calling the taxi company. She'd never felt so much embarrassment as when she had to stifle her moans on the phone with the operator as Warren had followed her into the booth and began kissing and sucking up her arm to her shoulder and neck. Once he quickly figured out her weak spot was in between her jawline and her neck, he just continued on with the spot as if he was a starving man and her skin was his last meal. That, along with his large hands traveling up and down her body, almost caused (Y/N) to drop the phone, tear off her clothes, and sit on his lap on the dirty street corner. 

When the taxi finally arrived, (Y/N) 's embarrassment only grew as Warren pulled her to practically straddle him and stuck his tongue down her throat. She could feel the discomfort radiating from the driver. But when he started playing with her panties… well, then she said to hell with embarrassment.

It felt like they'd been in the taxi for an eternity when they finally arrived at the large house in Baldwin Hills. The lovers stumbled through the large door, fumbling with each other's clothes and sharing messy, maddening kisses as they fell on the couch. (Y/N) sat atop Warren, staring deep into his eyes. The feeling of his hands on her waist was making her feel crazy. 

"I want you inside me, Warren."

She didn't need to tell him twice.

˖°🌊🎐𓇼⋆🦪₊

January 2000

"At some point that night, I had every part of me in that woman," Warren reminisced with a chuckle. "Shit felt like joining the swim team. Shit, sorry Jules." Warren Rojas had aged handsomely. His once sleek black curly hair had grayed, and he'd developed wrinkles around his eyes. His hands were now rough and calloused from years of being a successful rock drummer who achieved many accolades before being inducted into the Rock n Roll Hall of  Fame and retiring. He was the perfect picture of a had-been rockstar, a man now in his forties, tanned from days spent sitting out on his rusty old boat in the Marina. Some people might have pitied him, but he was content. 

"I forgot who I'm talking to. I'd appreciate it if you didn't keep that part in. I think Nina would die if she had to hear about her old man like that." 

Julia, now a woman grown and the spitting image of her mother with long, straight black hair and a camera at hand, was a far cry from the child Warren had known all those years ago. 

"Hard for me too, to tell you the truth," she said with a slightly awkward laugh. "So then what happened?"

"Well I think you know, kiddo. Love. War. Band called it quits." 

"With her, I mean."

Warren tensed up a bit. "Well, I loved her. Spent eight years with her, so I think he might've loved me too," he said with a smirk. "But we wanted different things, in the end. I wanted to slow down for a bit. Buy this boat, maybe have a few kids. I wanted success in the music world, but I wanted a wife and kids to share it with. She wanted to keep going. Being an "EGOT" at 24 wasn't enough, she wanted more. I've  always loved her for that. She has so much hunger for life. She wants to live. She nearly gave it all up to settle with me, but I loved her too much to block her dreams. And I loved her enough to let her go. Met Lisa back in '89, had Nina in '94. I'm happy with my life now. I feel like everyone thinks I'm this miserable, washed up drummer, but I'm happy with the life I built for myself."

"Do you still love (Y/N)?" asked Julia.

Warren smiled a sad smile and looked at his lap. "... I'll always love that girl. I see her in everything. I watch her life in pictures now. Hear her voice on the radio. You'll probably have to cut this out too… cause of Lisa, of course… but uh…"the man trailed off, and a haze fell over his eyes as if he was seeing flashes of the past.

"You know something? That night when I first met her, after… after we finished," he shot Julia a look, "I got up to get her a cup of water, and when I looked out of her kitchen window, I saw a shooting star. I'd barely seen two stars in my time spent in the city at that point. We'd just fuckin talked about it! But after that night with her? There one was, shooting across the sky."

Warren chuckled and shook his head. "Goddamn LA Girl Magic."

[lenafromthenordiccoven]

Stardust Reblog Challenge Fic Rec Masterlist

Masterlist of my fic recs for the Stardust Reblog Challenge by @liraketo.

Most of these are probably gonna be smut, let’s face it. 😂 And I’m linking to my reblogs with the comments, so you can see the reasons why I loved these AND read the fics. (Aka, I’m too lazy to copy paste the comments as well. Sorryyyy.) Will try to update this post as I go along though.

Fic recs are tagged with #stardust reblog challenge, as well as #fic rec.

Robert “Bob” Floyd

When I’m Done With You | @ereardon | fratboy AU, 18+

The Dreaming | @delopsia | 18+, PTSD from accident, polyamory (w/ Rhett Abbott)

The Archer | @vicsnook | arguing, relationship insecurities

Wildest Dreams | @vicsnook | break-up, finding new love (with Jake), 18+

Exile | @vicsnook | chaooooooooos, possibly ruined chances with Jake, definitely angsty

Hands to Yourself | @tip-top-cloud-surfer | fluuuuuff, pregnancy, Bob being adorably protective and clingy

hide n fuck | @bobgasm | hoooo boy, SMUUUUT, threesome with rooster

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Invisible Smoke – Two; Part Three | @ficsilike-reblogged | TW for stalking

Crush | @hangmans-wingman | fluuuuuuuuff, little bit of angst

Baby’s breath, a wholesome moment | @katsu28 | so much fluff and little Brisket!

California Fornication - Two - 'Odds Are?' | @ohtobeleah | mentions of cheating, love triangles (reader x Rooster, Jake x Rooster's wife)

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day One: Song Fic @rowaelinscourt

Back by no one’s demands but my own: a part two and conclusion to “Annie” the song fic I wrote for last year.  This one does end happier, I pinky promise.  Inspired by Mat Kearney’s song “New York to California.”  If you’ve been around for a while, you know Mat is one of those artists that I adore and his music means so much to me.  I also just really wanted to conclude “Annie” and NYtCA just hits different…anyways, I hope you enjoy?  You technically don’t need to read Annie if you don’t want to.

Rowaelin Month 2023 Masterlist Main Masterlist Annie—Part One

Warnings: she’s a touch angsty, nothing worse than how I usually go.  ~3k words

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New York to California

Before

She doesn’t know if it’s late or early when sleep takes her.  For weeks now she’s been trapped behind a gray haze.  It falls over her mind and tries to convince her that nothing really matters anymore.  It’s far too easy to fall victim to that mindset, and usually she does better at chasing the demons away.  Usually it’s easier.

So as she drifts off, she’s just glad for a taste of some relief from the day.  It’s been hard lately, too hard.  And she doesn’t know how she’ll break free from it.

Maybe, for that reason alone, it’s better that she falls asleep.  It can be the reprieve from her foster father and the ways the world has a way of crashing down around her.

The problem is, she forgets how easily the dreams find her.   They invade this quiet space she’s tried to carve out for herself so easily that sometimes she doubts her sanity.  Because the dreams are full of shadows and screams, pain and panic.  She wants to escape them.  More than anything if she could fade away into the gray haze of dawn and linger there—she would.

She’s in the middle of one of those terrors when a gentle hand glides down her cheek and she can hear his voice calling to her.

Fireheart.  Fireheart.

When her eyes open it’s to find him staring down at her, green eyes flickering with the light of the TV, his hoodie drenched with rain.  She can see the worry reflecting in his eyes as he brings his hand back to her cheek.  His thumb runs in soothing circles along her skin.

“I had one of those dreams again,” she whispers.  She doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to cause him more pain.  But it’s Rowan.  And he’s always been a part of her. “I thought I lost you.”

“It’s alright,” he says, easing onto the couch beside her. “Everything’s alright, I’m here.”

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, but she snuggles into his side nonetheless.  He smells like pine and rain and earth and it’s the most comforting thing she can imagine.  So she leans into him and wraps her arms tight around him so he won’t disappear on her again.

She knows they shouldn’t do this.  Knows he shouldn’t even be here.  If Arobynn finds out Rowan showed up at the house Aelin knows there will be hell to pay.  The only thing that gives her hope is that her foster father is gone on a work trip.  He won’t be back until Thursday.  But Aelin lives in a constant state of fear as her mind lingers on the “what-ifs” of it all.

“It’s alright, baby,” Rowan says.  He presses his lips into her forehead and pulls the fleece blanket over them.  “I’m right here with you.”

She lets his words wash over her and soothe her own worries.  He’s never steered her wrong before, never left her unless he had to.  And even than he lingers still.  Because that Rowan, her Rowan, can temper any storm raging in her mind.

As he holds her close, she can make out the scent of cheap beer and cigarettes.  She knows he was singing at the bar again tonight, trying to earn some cash for the two of them to finally breakaway from this damned town.

“Don’t leave,” she says, slurred with sleep and exhaustion. His warmth is all she needs to drift back off to sleep, missing what he whispers to her next.

…

After

The coffee shop is the same as it always is: loud and hot. 

No matter when Aelin comes, there is always line out the door and every table is occupied by no one that actually has to be there.  She has decided it is a ruse designed by society in general to make coffee shops more appealing.  Supposedly they can offer you a sense of peace and comfort and delude you into thinking that you’re right where you belong—mixed up in a mess of people just as desperate for connection as you.

So yes, the coffee shop is always full.  Single patrons take up tables for just themselves and their selfies and little cookies that they won’t actually eat.  And straw liners are somehow strewn about the floor even though straws have been banned in the city for almost a year now.  And somehow the heater is always going even in the middle of summer but no one ever comments because it is a coffee shop so therefore everything is perfect.

But it’s not.  Everything is so far from perfect that Aelin has more than once found herself stumbling through life.  She’s lost in a world that has passed her by all because her foster father beat her down.  All because she stayed behind and let the one good thing in her life leave.

She doesn’t blame him, of course.  She can’t.  He was always too good for this place anyways.  He always had a way about him that said he wouldn’t step back from a fight.

It’s what she loves most about him.

Because of course she still loves him.

Rowan Whitethorn was, and still is, the best thing to ever happen to her.  From the time they were kinds to the inevitable night that finally pulled them apart—Rowan had been all she ever needed.

He left the city the second he could after his music managed to get him free.  He’d tried to take her with him, tried to say that he’d take care of her and that everything would be alright with just the two of them.

But Aelin knew then that it wasn’t that simple.  It never would be.

Except now, Arobynn is dead.  Dead and no longer tormenting her daily.  Instead, he’s just another terror in her dreams.

They’ve gotten better though, the nightmares.  They don’t come every night and even when they do, it’s easier to chase them away now.  Because she’s free.

And sometimes, if she’s lucky, Rowan will be there.  He’s always had a way of climbing into her dreams and staying right where he’s needed.  Even though he’s not physically here he’s still the greatest source of comfort to her.

She tries to shake the thoughts of him away.  They won’t do her any good.  No matter how badly she wishes they could, that he was there with her.  Instead, any and all thoughts of him haunt her and remind her of what could have been.

So she opens her laptop, navigating to the article she’s supposed to be editing. 

Somewhere along the way, she managed to pave a small road for herself.  She was even the lead editor on this new addition of Kingsflame, an up and coming magazine.  It took her a while to find her way here, to find something she liked and was just for her.  But she was good at writing, she was good at picking up on details, she was good and weaving a story together.

Just not her own.

Aelin works for a little, trying to give all her attention to the document.  The intern that wrote it is promising and Aelin wants to make sure to nourish a love of writing for her.  Aelin knows first hand what just a taste of approval can do for someone and she wants the girl to grow in her love of words.  Writing is what saved Aelin herself after all.

Sitting back in her seat, Aelin sighs and sips at her coffee.  It’s something dark and bitter—not at all what she usually likes.  She prefers sweet and sugar and all the extra bits but the poor barista behind the counter looked one pumpkin spiced latte away from quitting so Aelin got a simple black coffee.  She added extra packets of sugar herself.  

It’s disgusting.

But she has to admit the caffeine is definitely going straight to her brain.

She takes another long sip when it happens.  The song on the radio changes and she hears a voice that has only been a part of her dreams.  It’s low with the barest hint of his accent.  He’s accompanied by a piano which is different—he’s always preferred the guitar, saying that he’ll leave the piano to her.

Only…she never got the chance to play with him.

And now he’s singing a ballad of love and hope over the speakers of her coffee shop.  And no one notices.  And no one realizes what it means to hear him now.

He’d always promised he’d find his way back to her.  She just thought it was going to be different.

…

Before

There’s a storm billowing through the trees and lashing the windows with rain.  The gray sky is endless as it grows darker with each passing second.  This isn’t any regular storm.  It’s been raging on for over an hour now, bringing in a few rounds of thunder and lightning with it. 

Aelin finds she doesn’t mind it.  Not at all.

Because beside her on the couch is Rowan.  He has an arm wrapped around her as he drifts in and out of sleep.  It’s been a long day of sneaking about, hiding, and worrying.  Now, they just have an hour.  One hour of just the two of them before she has to go back home.

“I miss you,” Rowan says, quiet. 

Aelin isn’t sure she’s heard him properly.  Or maybe he’s talking in his sleep, he does that sometimes.  She runs her fingers through his hair, brushing the silvery locks back from his forehead.

“What did you say?”

Rowan twists, his chin resting on her stomach.  Green eyes stare up at her, dark with longing.

“I miss you,” he repeats, just as quiet.

“I’m right here,” she says.  She doesn’t stop running her fingers through his hair, can’t stop more like it.  It’s grown longer recently and she loves it. 

He doesn’t say anything.  All he does is watch her.  A flash of lightning snaps from outside illuminates his face, turning the shadows beneath his eyes lighter for once.  They’re just kids but it feels like they’ve fought wars already.

Tightening his hold on her, Rowan lets out a small sigh.

“I know,” he says, “but it never feels close enough, does it?”

“You’re just talking,” she says with a low chuckle.  Sometimes, words take on more meaning.  Sometimes, words mean more than they usually do.  And sometimes words are promises that bind you to more than a moment.

He grunts. “No I’m not.”

Her heart thuds at his words, at the feel of him as he sits up slowly, still pressed close to her; only now they’re chest to chest.  He’s so much bigger than Aelin that his frame practically engulfs her.  His broad chest and thick arms are enough to keep her from fidgeting too much though.  Because where else would she rather be?

“No matter what happen, I’ll be here, you know?” he says.  It’s the closest they’ve gotten to talking about the Arobynn situation and how Aelin can’t leave.  No matter what hopes and dreams she might have and share with Rowan.

She’s trapped.

“Rowan,” Aelin begins, she can’t let him say things he doesn’t mean or make promises he can’t keep.

“I’ll never be far enough away that I can’t find you again,” he says.  One finger curls beneath her chin, causing her to look up. “I’d crawl back to you if I had to.”

“I guess I could get used to you being on your knees for me,” she replies.  She wants to ease the moment, to find some levity that doesn’t make her feel like her heart is about be cut open and left to bleed out.

Rowan leans forward until his nose touches hers, until they’re so close that it would be so easy, so easy, to kiss him.  To taste him.  To have a small part of him that she’s wanted for so long.

“Only for you, Fireheart.”

…

After

California bleeds neon lights and smoke on the horizon.

At first, Aelin can only stare at the skyline and bustling streets and the myriad of people passing by like they’ve got all the time in the world.  At first, Aelin can only breathe in the smog that coats the air like a second skin and the underlying musk of sea water. 

She flew into Los Angeles on nothing but a whim and her last paycheck.  Elide told her not to go.  Aedion insisted she at least wait for him to come with her.  Lysandra gave her an extra hundred dollars for an emergency.

Now, she’s wandering the old boardwalks by the ocean, watching waves crash and crowds swarm various popular spots.  She doesn’t know where she is exactly.  All she knows is that she’s nowhere near Hollywood or all the fancy places that she’d always imagined California to have.  But that’s alright.  She’s always found her way in the unknown and unpredictable.  Even if it has been hell.

It's getting late and all she has guiding her is an old news letter she found online.  There’s supposed to be an old grunge bar around here along the downtown scene.  A place that supports those small artists with dreams bigger than reality.

The late fall light fades into the horizon, bringing a chill to the air.  Aelin hadn’t expected it—cool air and gentle breezes.  But she doesn’t mind it.  She’s full or energy and worry, which may as well be a good thing as the combination has kept her from spiraling out of control.

When she enters the bar she already things she’s in the wrong place.  The low lights and heady scent of cigarettes is enough to tell her so.  But she pays a cover fee for the musicians playing and works her way to the front. 

A part of her mind screams that she should have gotten here sooner, that it’s nearing the final acts and she’s missed her opportunity.  Another part of her is convinced that she shouldn’t even be here to begin with.  Afterall, it’s been five years. 

But Aelin knows she would wait for any length of time; she’d always find a way back to his side.  She got out of her own nightmares even if it did take her years.  Maybe she should have called.  She even has his number and has listened to every voicemail he’s left on repeat as if its her own lullaby for the darkest nights.

It takes some effort, but Aelin makes it closer to the stage.  She’s still two rows back, but it’s close enough, she thinks. 

On stage a woman finishes a ballad with her guitar.  The music’s simple and her scratchy voice doesn’t hold the song together—at least in Aelin’s opinion, but she’s so far detached from this world, maybe she doesn’t know anything.

As the woman exits, a young college kid steps up to the microphone.  His hair falls in his face and he’s trying to layer flannel and an old-style t-shirt that doesn’t quite work for him.

“Next up we’ve got our regular,” the kid announces, already pulling away to make room for the final act. “Rowan Whitethorn.”

All around Aelin, the audience erupts into cheers.  They’ve all come for him, she realizes.  All eagerly awaiting the one person Aelin’s been waiting her entire life for.  She wants to cheer, wants to clap, wants to do anything but stand there and stare.  She can’t.

Because walking across the stage to the electric piano set up in the corner is Rowan.  Rowan with his hair too long.  Rowan with an unlit cigarette behind one ear.  Rowan with his da’s guitar case by his side, even now.  Rowan with tan skin and tattoos reflecting in the pale light of the bar.  Her Rowan that she’s loved for longer than she can say.

He doesn’t look up as he adjusts the settings of the piano and strikes a few keys.  He messes with the microphone next, making sure it’s lined up the way he likes it. 

When he does look up, it’s as though he’s always expected to find her there.  It doesn’t take long at all for their gazes to meet, for his green eyes to burn under the yellow bar lights.  His lips part in silent surprise and Aelin feels her skin heat when he cocks his head to one side before finally, a small smile kicks up one corner of his mouth.

He leans in to the microphone—eyes never leaving hers.

“Fireheart,” he says. “I promised we’d find each other again.”

…

After

She’s lost again.

But not in the way she once was.

Because instead of being surrounded by her nightmares, she’s tangled up in strong arms that haven’t let her go in hours.  She’s lost in him like never before.

She doesn’t mind of course.  Because she’s lost in him this time.  Skin to skin, soul to soul.  And there’s no place she’d rather be.

Aelin sighs and burrows in closer to his side.  He smells of pine and snow just like always.  It’s better than her memories, being so close to him.  Better than anything she could have hoped for.  She never thought it would come to this. 

For so long she’d wandered through her life trying like hell to find her ways.  Too often it felt like she was drowning, scrambling for air, for salvation.

And then she’d met Rowan. 

She doesn’t blame him for leaving.  She told him as much when he tried to apologized.  Silenced him with her kisses, in fact. 

Somehow they made it back to his apartment—small and tucked above a Thai restaurant.  It didn’t take them long to rediscover each other.  For Rowan to find the new scars along her back, for Aelin to learn the paths of his new tattoos. It didn’t take long at all to fall together into bed and spend the night whispering promises into the neon lights that filtered through the bedroom drapes.

“Fireheart,” Rowan whispers, his soft voice enough to pull Aelin from her thoughts.

She looks up into his eyes, already smiling. “Buzzard.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan runs a hand up her bare side, the calluses on his fingers catching her skin.  It’s enough to cause her to shiver which lights a new fire in Rowan’s gaze.

Whatever he was going to say is lost as he leans in and kisses her.  She reacts instantly, not that she can help it.  Everything about Rowan draws her in.  His mouth is insistent and teasing and his hands leave hot trails against her skin as he pulls her on top of him.

It’s only when they’re both gasping for air that they break apart.  Rowan brushes Aelin’s hair from her face, his large hand running across her cheek.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks.

Their next kiss is slow and languid and sends sparks shooting through Aelin’s entire body.

They don’t speak again until morning when dawn breaks and scatters sunshine across the bed.  But when they wake it’s with the knowledge that never again are they going to come apart.  They’ll be together across every mile, side-by-side.

end.

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taglist is a joke will reblog soon

[theravenclawlover]

🎃Kinktober Day 25🎃

Day Prompt: Mirror sex/Collaring/Uniform

Word Count: 889

Warnings: +18 (MDNI), sexual content, sexy time but also angsty time, unprotected sex (wrap it up ladies, gents, and gays), mentions of Jancy (i love them but for the sake of the fic they're on a break and they can fuck whoever they want while at it because there's nothing wrong with that), and my shit writing because you lot can digest it <3

A/N: I had a whole different idea for this but it is almost six am, so I cannot be held responsible for this mess. For one, this is my first time writing Jonathan. so go easy. two, I know my boy is shy, but I know that this man fucks good. like even if he was shy at the beginning I just know that he's a freak in bed. Nancy too bro, I just know she's the boss, but Jonathan on his own is just a man seeking to control something in his life. and that is you babes.

Jonathan Byers x F!Reader

When you were in High School you couldn’t understand why Nancy Wheeler had chosen Jonathan Byers, breaking Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington’s heart in the process. To you, Jonathan Byers was the complete opposite of Nancy, the girl—by society’s norm—was to be with someone like Steve. She seemed like one of those girls that would follow the path carved out for her. But things change, strange experiences turned you upside down. So you stopped questioning their relationship because your curiosity had dwindled down when your life had been affected by the interdimensional world that hid under your hometown. Even after the Byers had moved away Nancy and Jonathan were a thing, but by the time you had gone off to college in California, you had found out Jonathan and Nancy had broken up. You and Jonathan went to the same school, a place close to his home. You two had quickly turned friends—his friend Argyle was also your favorite person to hang out with.

And as you and Jonathan turned friends, he began opening up to you thus the story between him and Nancy came out. And then you understood, and as you did, you began to feel more than friend-like love toward him. But he would never love you like you did him because he still loved Nancy.

And even as months went by, and your relationship changed, you knew he loved her still. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t take what he gave you.

And if he wanted to have you as a fuckbuddy until he went back to Nancy when they were ready to talk about their relationship again, to build a future of their liking, you would let Jonathan Byers fuck you six ways into Sunday if he felt like it.

But right now you were letting him fuck you against your body mirror like the walls weren’t made out of cardboard. That’s dorm rooms for you. But it didn’t matter because Jonathan had you against it, your tits pressed against the cold material, back arched like a bitch in heat, your head pulled back by his grip as he whispered lewd words to you, the words that would always be replayed in your head when you weren’t with him.

“Look at you, taking my cock like a good slut,” he whispered, his soft voice husky and carnal. A contrast to his shy nature. He had been called a freak in High School because he was different, but now—if they knew—the word meant so much more. The number of things you had done with him, things you could only find in those weird dreams of yours. But with him, they turned to reality. You wondered if Nancy missed this…if she sometimes wondered if this was something she was depriving herself of. But she had put her education first before a dick. You weren’t that strong. And right now you didn’t care either.

“Fuck—aw fuck—so good,” you moaned nails scrapping the wood of the bathroom door where the mirror hung. You weren’t sure how you would explain those to your roommates.

“Yeah? You like being fucked like a slut?” he asked, a smile spreading into a full grin. “Don’t have to answer, I know you do. Letting me fuck you however and whenever I want to.”

You nodded in shame and lust, tears wanting to spill at the sheer pleasure your cunt was receiving from his deep thrust, from the sting of his balls slapping cruelly against your stiff clit, and the truth of his words.

Jonathan pulled you back, stepping away from the mirror slightly, now you could see his balls slapping your clit obscenely, the way his cock was thrusting in and out of you, your slick down your thighs, and how your tits bounced at the force of the whole spectacle.

“Look at that,” he panted against your ear as he let go of your head to grab your biceps, holding you there and fucking into you harshly. You were gasping for air with every thrust. “Such a pretty thing, taking my cock so well. You’re a very good girl, aren’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” you moaned, tears now freely falling as your orgasm built, your legs quivering as you could only let him fuck you like a ragdoll.

“And all mine.” Those were the words that always made you come undone, words that were all true, you were his, maybe forever. You came with a whine of his name, your knees buckling as you did, trying to get away from his strong grip as he fucked into you still, his cock hitting your sensitive spot over and over again, making the feeling of your body all the more intense. But the clenching of your walls around him and your desperate whines was his undoing. He came with shallow thrusts, his cum spurting inside of you marking you once again as his, a feeling that did nothing but drive you insane.

Your tired eyes looked at the mirror, and there you watched as Jonathan gasped for air against your back, forehead resting on your shoulder as he watched—like you—his cum spill out of your stuffed cunt.

“Mine.”

Yes, you were. All his for the taking. But he wasn’t yours. Not even with his cum still hot inside of you.

[enam3l]

love, lola / chapter eight / it's happening again (4.6k)

Eddie has some news and amidst all the drama, you're starting to get a sense of deja vu...

a/n: happy ending eventually, slow burn, will they won't they, a lil angsty but never mean eddie!

this is a two parter! once you've read this, go here!

series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work / now available to read on AO3!

comment for tag list. requests open for prequel stories.

Anything being said is drowned out by the ringing in your ears. Piercing and shrill, as if an internal alarm was triggered by the words that left Eddie's mouth. 

'I'd have to leave for California next week.'

Simultaneously your prayers had been answered and your worst nightmare had come true. Eddie was being granted a shot at his dream to become a professional musician; a chance to get the hell out of Hawkins. Yet, the cost of it was leaving you behind. A successful rockstar life beyond the containment of this small town offered more than you ever could. 

Eddie paces anxiously in front of your bed where you have sat unmoving for the last five minutes. With each lap of the room a new thought intrudes. He hasn't slept since Taylor asked him to join Kraven last night. 

Does she hate me? Does she think I betrayed her? Is she actually relieved I'll be gone? Is she happy she doesn't have to follow through on letting me go back to New York? 

His fingers brush over anything in his reach. Over the objects he's seen nearly everyday of his life. Fragments of everything he's ever know, that now feel like they're slipping away. A jewellery stand that is weighed down by handmade beaded necklaces from your childhood and priceless heirlooms; all equally precious. A silver frame filled with an array photostrips of you with himself, some with Steve, one with you as a baby with Gran. A collection of figurines Eddie had hand painted custom for your birthday one year. One a powerful elven queen radiating a bright light, tailored to your likeness. The other a dark knight resembling Eddie, in service of the queen as he is to you in life. 

'You have to go, Teddy,' you finally muster a croak. Eddie freezes in his spot and your eyes meet. Both red from resisting the tears that beg to erupt. 

'Are you su-'

You refuse to even let him ask the question, shaking your head profusely. Reaching a hand out to him to come closer, he climbs onto your bed. In the centre you both sit cross legged facing the other, like two kids again sharing secrets. 

'You have to,' you repeat. 

He inhaled and takes your hands in his, they feel so small and cold. Like he had when you were little in the winter, he rubs his thumbs over your fingers and knuckles to warm them. Focusing on the touching of your skin so he doesn't have to see your reaction, Eddie admits his biggest concern. 

'But California doesn't have you...'

No it doesn't. At this moment in your life it feels like you aren't anywhere. Floating around lost without a tether, not to New York, not to Hawkins, not to Eddie. 

'But it has your future.'

The words were like a punch to gut for the both of you. An admittance that your futures don't evolve around the other. Especially not in the ways either of you want but won't admit. 

'This is a once in a life time offer, Ted,' you sigh, you've got to be the grown up. 'The chance to be a rockstar? It's something you've been dreaming of since you were a kid sat in this very room.' 

Sniffles can be heard from behind the wall of curls before you. 

'What if it doesn't work out?' he admits, letting his self-doubt show. 

Shuffling closer, you brush away his wild curls to reveal the soft face you've always adored. Thumbs stroking over the smattering of summer freckles, smoothing the tired bags under his big brown eyes. It's a face the world deserves to know. 

'Then you were close and will still have done something spectacular. Regardless, I'll always be here. But you have to, for once, be selfish. Do this for yourself... what would your Mom say if you were here?'

The tears in Eddie's eyes now fall. Coaxed out by your love and faith in him, the strength of which only ever matched by his Mom. His hands sit on top of yours. 

'She'd...' he pauses to chuckle, 'oh man, she'd have threatened to shave the hair whilst I was sleeping. Would make me repeat what she'd tell me everyday, that I'm everything and anything I wanna be if I believe in myself like she does... did.'

As he recounts his Mom's words, it truly dawns on Eddie what the answer is. What he must do. Just like that, the cord that has tied you and Eddie together for over a decade is severed. You're setting him free. Tears trickle down your cheeks. Now, he mirrors your previous actions. Rough thumbs stroking over your cheeks that feel like velvet to the touch. He touches your features that he knows by heart more so than any song or movie. For a while you both sit there, hands bracing the other's face. Holding on before they flitter away into memory only. 

When Eddie finally leaves your bedroom it feels all too symbolic, as if he has left your life. Once you hear the front door shut, you hurl yourself into the bathroom and throw up but this time, morning sickness isn't your excuse. The sob the racks through you vibrates off every bone. As if your body is responding to this feeling of grief. It's the first you've ever felt true loneliness. A jolt hits your again but it's not a sob or a heave. It's another first. The baby kicks you. 

Exactly a week later, The Hideout was buzzing with people wanting to say goodbye to one of their own. Eddie Munson was getting the hell out of Hawkins. With the help of Carl the manager, you, Steve and Dustin planned a bon voyage party. The bar crammed full with the gang, Corroded Coffin, Wayne, Gran, Hopper, Joyce and friends from the Hideout amongst the usual regulars. Everyone's pride over their friend's news combined with the free flowing booze, managed to overshadow the lingering sadness at his impending departure. With some coercion, everyone was treated to an impromptu Corroded Coffin reunion. 

Up on the stage and under the lights, Eddie glowed. It was where he belonged, this was always his destiny. Despite the clear intoxication, seeing the four up there you saw how they were still the silly boys you'd grown up with. Still all goofy grins and dimpled cheeks. After a couple of Corroded Coffin classics, Eddie's fingers strummed the beginnings of a song that halted the breath of a few in the crowd. Before you all, they performed Master Of Puppets. Playing from start to finish, uninterrupted, unharmed. Behind the raucous cheers were dewy eyes from those that knew. Knew this was so nearly Eddie's final song. But he had survived and stood in all his glory, stronger than ever. A fighter. A hero. He played like he had something to prove to the universe - that he was a survivor. 

After the cheers subsided, Eddie took the mic from Jeff, taking centre stage instead. 

'What can I say? You've been a wonderful audience. We're going to do one final song. It's for a very special lady. Y/N, sweetheart, I wouldn't be here without you. Kept me sane since were eight, when I first heard this song.'

Everyone turns, looking at you expectantly. Those that knew you wondering where he was going with this. Those that didn't wondering what exactly was your relationship. Hell if I know, you think. With that, his fingers kick started the song and he begins to croon with a wicked grin. 

'I met her in a club down in old Soho

Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like coca cola

C-O-L-A, Cola

She walked up to me and she asked me to dance

I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said Lola

L-O-L-A, Lola

La-la-la-la Lola'

As soon as the first words slide off his tongue your grin matches his. Dizzy with sentiment. Out the corner of your eye, you see Gran smirking to herself. Everyone else is clueless but eventually learn to go with it, dancing and understand there's a tale they're not privy to. 

When a small and afraid Eddie had shown up in your house twelve years ago, you were stuck on what to do. Gran sent you off to make him feel comfortable as she and Eva spoke. The curly headed boy was so timid, a far cry away from the one before you now rolling his hips with his guitar. To break the crippling silence that lingers between two strangers, you brought him to your living room where the record machine lived. Fumbling through to stacks of your Gran's aged records you picked one carefully. 

'I... I think this will make you laugh. It makes me laugh when I'm sad,' you admitted nervously, unsure why you felt so determined to make this strange boy smile. The needle drops at the song Eddie is playing for you now, begins to echo out the speakers. Lola by The Kinks. 

Shyly you sit back on the plush rug beside the rigid boy. It's not long before the sadness begins to crack. Eddie's fingers tapping. Then, it's clear he finally listens to the lyrics and his head whips around to you. It's the first time you truly get a look at him. Oh he's so pretty, the little voice in your head gasped. His eyes are wide in shock, white rimming giant chocolate buttons. 

'Why she walked like a woman but talked like a man.'

The meaning dawns on him and he laughs. The best sound you've ever heard. An expression that causes dimples to pop and his eyes to shine. It's that moment you decide to need to make this boy, this Eddie, smile and laugh for as long as you know him. By the time your Gran and Eva come and find you, you're both sprawled out on the rug. Barely any distance between you and the song still on repeat. 

Now Eddie is singing it for you. It's sinful the way his tongue flicks on the 'la-la's. His voice gritty during the rest of the song. It should be enough to tip you over the edge, drive you insane but it's too good not to indulge in. You spin around, laughing, joining in with the rest of your friends. Robin dipping you and Steve twirling you round. In Eddie's over watching eyes, the celebrations of others are nothing but white noise and a blur. To him it's only you stood in the centre of the crowd, red lights illuminating your hair  billowing as you sway. You're in slow motion and everything else is an irrelevant blur. Even under the boozy fog, he channels everything he has into this serenade. It's all for you, every feeling runs through his veins, out his finger tips and pours out through the amps. It's for you, he chants internally, it's always all for you. 

Once Eddie exits the stage, he's winded as you hurl yourself at him, arms wrapping tightly round his neck. He's quick to respond, his own arms round your waste to swing you round and round. The song, it was too much, forcing you to break your self imposed boundaries. The two of you remain the same most of the night, joined at the hip. Eddie's inhibitions growing looser with every shot and beer that passes his lips; raw from biting them to stop himself from impulsively kissing yours. Easily, you both clear out the dance floor. Between reckless spinning and Eddie dipping you dramatically, the space had began to thin out. People retiring to booths or back home as the night wore on. It felt like you and him were the only two people in the world again. 

Suddenly, the energy shifts between the two of you when the track changes. The soft tones of Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths begin to hum through the room. Eddie freezes in his movements for a moment, you look up at him confused and expectant; waiting for his next move. Then, with more tenderness than any of his previous moves, he sweeps you into a slow dance. Two of your hands clutched together whilst he brings your other to his shoulder and then settles his own on your waist. Despite his intoxicated state, he glides surprisingly effortlessly and you can't help but take him in. His face surprisingly somber, blue lights soft on his features as he looks down at you. A mixture of melancholy and sweetness thick in the air. For an unknown reason, the moment feels so familiar as if deja vu but this has never happened before. You don't remember ever dancing with Eddie like this and god knows the boy won't ever let you play The Smiths. But you manage to push the eery feeling down, resting your head on his shoulder to let the moment embrace you and forget that tomorrow he'll be gone. 

From the corner of the room, the adults congregate. There, Gran watches adoringly. Her eyes threatening tears at the sight. The two kids she's raised still together and oblivious to what was always obvious to Eddie's mom - they were soulmates. Hopper follows her gaze to the embracing young adults. 

'Think they'd make a nice couple one day, y'know,' he remarks offhandedly from behind his bottle of beer. A hidden smile as he thinks of himself and Joyce at that age. Maybe they'll find their way back to each other one day, he muses to himself. Gran clears her throat, straightening herself up and withdrawing from the wistful place she'd found herself in. 

'Maybe... I think there might be something to that,' she smiles sadly. 

Before long the bar is near deserted. The remaining members are the survivors, the ones who know too much, who've been through too much for such an age. Round a booth, you, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Argyle, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Mike, El and Max gather. All of you with a shot, in the case of the kids it's a shot of cordial. Unknowing to everyone but Steve, you join them in the cordial. 

Steve chimes his class to raise a toast. 

'I think, I speak for everyone here when I say we're proud of you, Eddie. You did it, most people would've never left the house again, man. But you're getting the hell outta this hell hole. Let's make this the start of the end, of us all moving on. The Upside Down is gone forever and now we can finally live normal lives. Here's to Eddie and to all of us, for surviving!'

Everyone cheers in agreement and downs their shot. You quicker than the rest before anyone, especially Eddie who hovers beside you, can notice its content. But he's too far gone to have ever spotted it, which he proves as he brashly clatters his rings against a class to get everyone's attention. 

'Hey! Hey, Stevie s'not the only one who can make speech!' He slurs. 

'Debatable,' Max smirks earning a prod from Steve and a snicker from Robin. 

'Tsch be nice to your father, Red. He s'on his own now,' Eddie scolds. 

The group chuckles and Steve shakes his head, face buried into his palms. 

'How much have you drank, Eddie?' Dustin gawps and his swaying idol. 

'Shhh secret, Dustybuns! S'okay, sweetheart lookin after me,' he grins goofily as he wraps an arm around your shoulder affectionately but also to keep himself upright. 

'Anyway! Stop int... interruptin me. You lil dinguses gotta take in my wisdom whilst 'm still here! So I just wanna say... love you guys. Even when I'm up there accepting my awards, I'll still remember you. 'Specially sweetheart here. Keepin' me alive, huh? What am I gonna do without ya?'

The group look between each other, baffled as they watch Eddie paw at your face like a cat. Steve scowls, anxious as to what this is doing for you.

'Aaand on that note, let's call it a night,' Nancy claps, ready to rally the troops. 

'Steve, we going half and half on the kids?' 

Steve nods half heartedly, eyes still watching you and Eddie carefully. 

'Okay, now Y/N, what about you? And Eddie? Need a lift?' She asks as she divvies up the kids between them. 

'Noooo, she s'comin home with me,' Eddie whines before pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. 

Nancy and Robin raise an eyebrow. 

'Are you sure?' Robin presses you. You laugh it off. 

'Yes, honestly guys it's fine. We live in the same place anyway and I've not really drank anything. I can drive. It'll just take everyone out of their way!'

The answer satisfies the girls and everyone begins their goodbyes. Before they all file out the door, Steve pulls you aside. That hand of support clutching yours once again. 

'You'll be okay?' He whispers, 'be careful. If anything is wrong, just call me okay? Don't just lie their being sad-'

Steve is cut off as Eddie drags you out of his touch. Flapping his hand in Steve's face to shoo him. 

'Get off my lady, Harrington!' Eddie garbles, making you blush and your stomach swirl. Drunk Eddie is not good for your already aching heart. Steve sighs, giving up and waving goodbye. It's just you and Eddie now. 

Instantly, Eddie is draping himself over you. His eyes focused on a strand your hair he twirls round his fingers. 

'Finally!! Thought they'd never leave us alone, sweets.'

'Think it's time we got you home, huh, Teddy?' You chuckle, cheeks red at the implication. 

'S'cute when you call me that...'

You just smile and nod, trying to drag him to the car. Buckling him in as if he were a child, unable to himself as he continues to fidget with any part of you he can get touch. 

The journey home was surprisingly quiet. Eddie's head resting against the window, watching the dark blur of what will now become his former hometown. It's only the sound of your voice that stirs him once you pull up outside the pool house. 

'Okay, here we are, Eds! Home sweet home,' you pat his knee. He looks between out the window then back at you with a big scowl on his face. 

'S'not home.'

Your heart sinks. You suppose it's not home anymore, California will be. Or maybe he means the trailer? 

'Urm, well where else are you going to sleep then, hey?' You try to mask your sadness. 

Eddie groans. Inside he's frustrated by your cluelessness and his inability to spit out his true feelings. Why is she being so silly, he thinks, this is not his home, you are his home. 

'Your room! Sleepover,' he bats his long lashes at you and paws at you pleadingly. It makes your insides jelly. It's our final night together, you sigh internally, what harm could it do?

The second your bedroom door is open, Eddie is stumbling through and flopping back onto the bed. Tight tee riding up revealing his belly button, tattooed hip and a trail of hair that is so cruelly tempting. You idiot, you scold yourself. Leaving Eddie to lie there you go and change into the pyjamas then sit at your vanity to remove your make up. You're oblivious to how Eddie has sat bolt upright to watch you, entirely enchanted at the sight of your mid-routine. 

'You looked real pretty tonight,' he whispers but it's loud enough for you to catch. Your cheeks redden, helpfully disguised by the swipes of cotton wool.  

'You look pretty too, Teddy,' you chuckle. He blinks, baffled. 

'Really?' He almost gasps. 

'Of course,' you laugh, ruffling his curls as you get up and walk past. He leans into the touch and huffs quietly when it ends all too soon. You come back and stand before him at the edge of the bed, 

'You always look pretty.'

Eddie wants to swoon but stops when he notices what you're wearing. You're stood before him in a t-shirt he always wondered if you still had. One he sent you home him on that night. He can't help himself as he reaches out, fingers skimming over them hem and accidentally making contact with the exposed thigh. Goosebumps instantly prickle up his arm and across your thighs but neither of you notice the others reaction. 

'You always look pretty too, Y/N. 'Specially in that shirt...' his voice is the quietest it's been all night. 

'O-oh yeah, I'm sorry. You can have it back! It's just really comfortable! I've no idea where it came from bu-'

Eddie cuts your rambling off by tugging you forward, causing you to fall on top of him. Faces hovering over each other, your hair acting as a curtain, hiding the rest of the world. Both of your breathing slows. The drunken hormones raging through Eddie are screaming. Before he can stop himself, his fingers are reaching out. Calloused tip gliding down the slope of your nose, over your cupids bow, hesitating over your lips. Both of you stare at each other wide eyed, unsure as to where this is going. Quickly, Eddie catches himself. He retracts his fingers from your plush lips and brings them back to boop the tip of your nose. The absurdity breaking the tension. 

'Honk!' He grins.

You can't tell if you're disappointed or relieved.

'S'not a problem sweetheart, won't make ya take it off. 'Nless you wanna,' he teases, brows wiggling. 

You give him a shove as you pull yourself back onto your feet and out of the compromising position. 

'Edward Munson, you are wasted.'

He looks back up at you with hazy puppy dog eyes. 

'I know. Can't move. You'll have t'undress me for bedtime,' he sighs with a smirk. Raising his arms up as a hint for you to get started. You gulp. Countless time you've seen him shirtless but you've never literally undressed him. Plus, you know him too well and know you just have to go with it when he's in these kind of moods. Trying desperately not to turn beet red, you attempt the task at hand. Tugging the hem of his shirt up carefully, gradually revealing his soft stomach, then chest, then shoulders. Perfect porcelain, dotted with ink and shiny healed scars and then of course, that god forsaken trail of hair. Your eyes linger far too long, trying to memorise this moment before it disappears. 

'Trousers too,' Eddie chirps. Reclining back and thrusting his hips up. It's like the universe is trying to torture you. 

'Eddie...' you murmur, mortified, 'you can do them yourself.'

'Can't, sweets,' he shakes his head defiantly, 'hands not working, see!'

He dramatically attempts and fails to use his hands to undo his belt; flopping them around as if they were jello. 

'Sure you're meant to be a rockstar? I think you'd make a better clown...'

He prods you with his socked toes then but his smile is beaming. Sighing you begin to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's eyes are wide, throat tight and brain malfunctioning as he watches something he'd only fantasised about. Why did I talk her into this, he yells at himself, this is dangerous. He watches as your fingers nimbly undo his button, then the zip, then you take the top of them and begin to slide the denim away. Your soft touch brushing against his hip bones, then his thighs, exposing his boxers, exposing himself. Thank fuck they don't have holes in, he thanks his earlier sober self.

Your heart is in your throat seeing Eddie there reclined on your bed in nothing but underwear. You've seen him like this before but usually in glimpses as he walks between the bathroom and bedroom. Now he's entirely on display and it's torturous. You're barely allowed to look never mind touch. Praying he's too wasted to realise how your eyes flicker too the outline of his... 

'Okay!' You clap, 'it's bedtime for you, Mr! Big day tomorrow!'

Eddie groans like a petulant child, 'don't wanna!'

You scoff as you tug at the duvet for him to move so you can get under. 

'Don't wanna what? Go and live it up in California? Go and be a superstar?'

With his back turned to you as he swings to get off the bed, you can't see the empty look in his eyes. The sadness that sweeps the earlier joking off his face. 

'No, s'just... don't wanna leave you.'

You fix your gaze at the ceiling as you lie there, not daring to look him although he's doing the same. Looking anywhere but at you as he climbs into bed.

'Oh... well... Eds, you ha-'

Your forget what you were going to say as Eddie turns over and drapes himself over your lying frame. Arm slung over you and his face buried into your abdomen. You're frozen, praying that now isn't the moment the baby decides to move or somehow he hears it inside you. 

'I only just got you back,' he mumbles into the worn fabric of your shirt. 

Any potential of him hearing the baby, the baby was now drowned out by the hammering of your heart. You're unsure of what to say or do other than stroke his tangled curls soothingly. 

'You'll always have me,' you whisper back. It pains you how true the sentiment is, you would always be there. Waiting for him like the moon to his earth, functionless without him, permanently in his orbit. 

The warmth radiating from you envelopes Eddie. The softness of the skin on your arm that he strokes and of the warn t-shirt of his you wear. No one has brought him comfort like this since his Mom. Nothing can touch him when he's in your embrace. If being in your arms was all he ever did, it was a life well lived. But that can't happen, you aren't his. 

'S'not enough...' he croaks groggily. 

Having you always but just as a friend isn't enough, is what he means. But he's too scared to ever admit that fully and too heavy with booze and sleep to explain anyway. 

'What do you mean?' Your heart sinks. 

What's not enough? Am I not enough? I already know, it's why I have to let you leave. Yet you realise your questions will remain unanswered as soft snores begin to drift from Eddie's lips. Snuggled into you, he falls into rhythmic breathing, his hand having moved from your arm, now resting on your stomach. It's the closest you'll ever get to having him feel your bump, you realise. You stay there, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke his hair in time with his breathing. It feels natural, regardless of the heartbreak, you feel at peace with him like this. 

And maybe the baby feels that, feels how truly comfortable you are. Or, maybe, it's the sensation of being enveloped by Eddie; his warmth covering your bump. But as you drift asleep, the baby wiggles and kicks under his touch as if they too feel connected to Eddie. 

Sometime later, at an ungodly hour, Gran wakes up. Making her way across the landing to your room to make sure you were safe and home. A quiet gasp escapes her once she opens the door ajar. There you lie on your bed, Eddie curled round you, as if guarding the bump he's oblivious too. It looks picture perfect, like a scene that was meant to be. As if her best friend, Eva Munson, was still alive and standing beside her, Gran can hear her smug laugh. 

'I told you so,' Eva would be gloating, 'I said we'll really be family one day, Ruby.'

If only it had worked out so simple, Gran thinks with a woeful smile, maybe one day. 

What was that deja vu? Is there something you don't remember... read the new prequel to find out

tag list: @tlclick73 @probablyin-bed @fangirling-4-ever @booksarekindaneat @azydrateanatomy @sadbitchfangirl @fluffybunnyu @big-ope-vibes @beam86 @midnightsgetawaycar @stevieharringtonswife

[blood-injections]

You know what. Rundown of my killjoy ocs becuase I don’t i ocpost enough

Ignition Wizard-

He/it, transmasc, my self insert. Zoneborn but never really had a crew, host of the radio station Lucky 107.7 , which he broadcasts from the bus he lives out of, always on the move, in zone two one day and six the next. Just a funky dude. Will give you free tattoos if you ask.

Cal-e Condor

Agender they/it amab. Ummm gay weirdo, wacky name, you just say it like Cali as in California Condor. Cowboy. Has twin bedazzled blasters and carrys daggers. Wears a crazy tasseled leather jacket with a thunderbird painted across the back. Lots of piercings and tattoos, currently has braids down to their fucking knees. Hottest mf in the zones honestly. Lone wolf, no crew but lots of friends, really outgoing and bold/flamboyant but simultaneously quiet and mysterious? Absolutely fucks on the dance floor. Engineer.

Virtuoso Viper

Comes off as an asshole but is actually cool. He/xe dirtbag transmasc. Lowkey Condor’s homoerotic rival. Cocky bastard of a motorbike racer. He has a crush on Kobra Kid and it’s kind of pathetic. Can fly a plane, at least he claims he can. There’s no planes in the zones. He wants to build one. Sings and plays guitar in a little folk punk band with his best friend. He can often be spotted hanging out at the tip of that one old radio tower by the Nest(it’s the tallest one in the zones), he loves to climb but really needs to stop before he falls and breaks something. Also he has orange hair but a key lime green blaster it’s so fucking ugly. He has zero style. At least he’s confident.

Mold Moth

He/she amab but not cis. Nobody is cis. Um. Biggest faggot in the zones. He idiolized Mad Gear so hard he became a younger, nastier version of him. Like Mad Gears a crazy guy but Mold is fucking batshit, like something is actually seriously wrong with him but whatever, he’s cool. He’s fueled by anger issues and gay sex and dreams of being the main character in 80s horror films because he thinks it’d be fun. He named his band Mold Moth and the Rot in Your Hole and his music kind of sucks but in a sexy way. He wants to eat button batteries so bad, like by the handful like mnms. Fucking Freak(affectionate)

Miss Lithium

Dommy mommy. Who said that. Genderless giant. She/they/he/it/fucking anything they don’t care. Over six feet tall. Badass, goth, etc. DJs sometimes, can build bombs. Smokes weed and fucks. Not in a crew, lives with Prince Computer and they’re technically dating but the relationship is open. Is secretly scared of death.

Prince Computer

No one actually calls him that, sure it’s his name but one day he saw the word smorzando written on some sheet music and was like that would be a cool name.. and now he’s stuck with it. He doomed himself, his girlfriend won’t call him anything but Smorz. (S’mores). It’s cute. He/it, Fun Ghoul coded, as in he’s a dog of a guy, fucking puppy ass mf, assigned bottom by literally everyone and they’re not wrong. Kind of a slut, flirts with everybody, is a medic. Writes fucking angsty poetry he’s absolutely pathetic I love him. The most little meow meow out of my ocs.

Saint Silica

Haven’t decided much about this oc yet but they’re doomed by the narrative basically. What I do know is they’re cool and people are scared of them because they’re like, literally ghostly in a way. they have a scary aura about them, but they’re actually really gentle and troubled, don’t like violence but hate bli so they fight anyway. I think they’ve just been touched by the Witch. But they’re lonely and scared of losing their purpose. Basically they’re just a really fucking cool name that I’m still trying to come up with a crazy story for that lives up to it

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi! Sorry to bother but I was wondering if you can help me. I’m looking for a sterek soulmate AU where stiles had a twin named Stuart and Stuart ran away and stiles never stopped looking for him. Stuart dies and stiles finds out and meets Derek and thinks Derek was Stuart’s soulmate but Derek is Stiles soulmate. Turns out that Stuart found out (I think) Theo was his soulmate and he was abusive so Stuart ran away. Met Derek and Derek tried to keep him safe. I don’t remember a lot of details except it was angsty. I read it years ago and can’t find it anymore. :( please and thank you 💕💕💕

I'm pretty sure it's this one, @arver7!

I Hunt For You With Bloody Feet by CharWright5

(26/26 I 200,462 I Explicit I Sterek)

“Mates don't always mean happy ever after.”

When twenty-year-old born omega werewolf Stiles Stilinski received that cryptic email from his twin brother—who'd been missing for two years exactly—in a language the two of them had made up, his drive to find Stuart is doubled. The search leads him to Oak Creek, the most secured and heavily fortified city in all of California, where he finds that not only is his brother dead, but also the literal alpha of his Dreams in Derek Hale—who just happens to be his twin's Mate and the main suspect in Stiles' eyes. Despite an agreement to fight mutual feelings, the two are still drawn to each other as they try to solve the case themselves, uncovering a plot that goes deeper than the murder of just one wolf.

[bug-fics]

California Cool ☆ pt. 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Part one

Summary: Eddie isn't cool, especially not in Hawkins. But maybe a pretty girl from California can help change that.

Warnings:  Use of the word Queer in a negative light, drugs, alcohol, cussing, intoxicated smut, voyeurism. Reader is def set up to be a mess of a character, she cries after sex and has never felt love. Little angsty

Word Count: 4.9K (Barely edited)

Eddie wasn’t expecting to enjoy his time at a notorious Tommy Hagen Party, but you seemed to make everything exciting, even an afternoon alone in your room. The time before the party wasn't as awkward as Eddie was expecting, you managed to sleep most of the day, waking up periodically to smoke or to have a small chat with him before passing out again. At one point you had woken up just enough to tell him he was officially your best friend in Hawkins which he found kind of sweet.

It was still kind of weird to just hang out in your room while you were dreaming about god knows what; he's never spent this much time with half of his friends before and they are people that he’s known for quite a while. It was unconventional, to say the least, you met the day before and yet you acted like you’ve known Eddie your whole life. It was new, but he loved every minute of it. Yeah, a Tommy Hagen party sounded like utter bullshit, but he was with you. So here he was, driving your car to a party he wasn't invited to in clothes that you owned while you primped and preened in the overhead mirror.  

“Here, wanna pop two tabs before we go in, They take too long to kick in and I'm trying to have fun,” Eddie’s done acid countless of times, selling as a side gig exposed your curiosities to test most of the products in your possession, but this was different. If he turned you down, Eddie knew there was a high chance that you'd abandon him, leaving him behind for someone else to have an exciting night with. You never made it apparent to pressure Eddie into doing anything, but the gnawing feeling of you slipping through his grasp rang in his head, leading him to agree to every word that left your mouth, even tripping at a shitty high school party.

The front lawn was littered with bodies, wasted out of their minds, the party already in full swing. The booming music of whatever was on the radio could be heard from the driveway. It was packed, and Eddie wasn't looking forward to it. He didn’t really have a choice however, he had to keep up with Miss California. Pushing through the front door, you made a point to ignore the greetings and cheers thrown your way at the notice of your arrival. You attempted to push through the crowd while gripping tightly onto Eddie's sleeve, dragging him behind you, trying to find any sort of alcohol as fast as possible. The kitchen was less crowded, most attendees choosing to reside in the living room dancing in the open space provided by the pushed-back furniture. 

Without missing a beat, you had chugged two cups of whatever drink sat on the counter before handing Eddie his own cup. He was expecting you to want to wander, and talk to as many people as you could before the night died out. That’s what Hargrove loved to do, the attention fueled him, so it was only fair to assume you’d want the same. This thought was short-lived however, it was clear the main thing on your mind was to get as fucked up as humanly possible within the shortest timeframe. 

A big group came in from the back door, forcing Eddie to cage you in against the counter. He tried his hardest to avoid any unwanted contact, the slight blush on his face deepening when you reached your hands around his neck to pull him closer to you. The moment, if you could even call it that, ended quicker than it started when a small group of dudes decided that Eddie being there was social suicide, choosing to pick on him like they did every chance they got. 

“Munson!” One of them called out, causing Eddie to jump away from the little contact you were making. “Didn’t know they opened this party up to devil-worshiping dick riders. I don't even know why Y/N gives you the time of day, you’re a loser. A boring nobody, never even touched a girl in your life. Probably a queer if I'm being honest.”

In comparison to the bullshit, Eddie received daily, this was surprisingly one of the less harsh things people have said to him. The group was just trying to impress you in hopes to stake their claim, a pathetic attempt to turn you against your newfound confidant. In any other circumstance, Eddie would just brush Carver off, join in on the laugh even, but he was already worried about keeping someone as cool as you around. You already considered him a friend, best friends even, but the impending doom of the friendship wore into Eddie's subconscious. The insecurities from earlier rushed to the front of Eddie's brain, but before his self-loathing could get too deep you were pushing another cup into his hand, bursting into unrestrained laughter. It’s like you could always tell when he was overthinking, even if you weren’t trying to. 

“Loosen up Hawkins! You seem so stiff. Don’t let Carver get to you. His buddies are a bunch of high school has-beens who wish I’d give them even an ounce of attention. If you really want to get under their skin, we can make out on the couch, get them off our backs.” Somehow your words made Eddie even stiffer. You’d expect a pretty girl asking to go at it on the couch in front of everyone would get someone to loosen up. Eddie’s mind started racing one more. Why would you even offer such a thing? Would he even be able to look at you if he said yes? It would be kinda funny to give a big fuck you to the people who insist on making his life a living hell. “Dude, don't overthink it. In California, I kissed my friends all the time. Think of it as a favor.”

He let out a stuttering breath, what's the harm in platonically kissing on the couch of a high school party in front of everyone? Yeah, it's totally normal and definitely not weird. The thought of turning you down crossed his mind briefly, the part of him that knew it was a bad situation to get stuck in if things went south. But Eddie needed to keep up, so he gave in to the small (huge, very fucking huge) part of him that wanted to have you smothering him with your lips and dragged you to the couch. 

He made sure to plop down near the football player who was currently leaning against the arm of the seat. You climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs, the dress you wore rose just under your ass saving nothing to the imagination. Anyone stood across from you could see the lace leaking out under the hem. You gaze into his eyes, leaning In slightly but not enough to give Eddie the confidence to initiate the kiss. There was no real rush, but the need to have you close to him was high. He could smell the alcohol on your breath, your pupils were blown out from the drugs you'd taken earlier in the day. If Eddie was sober, there was no doubt in his mind that he would stop what was happening, granted it was just a kiss, but there was no way this wouldn't affect something… but he wasn't sober and he didn’t stop it. 

For you, this was a simple act of helping out a friend, the thought of allowing Eddie to fuck you on the couch just to prove a point to the losers who wanted your attention did cross your mind. It wouldn't be the first time, but Eddie didn't seem like the type to enjoy a big audience, especially ones who hated his guts. Or maybe he was, but judging by his reaction to a simple kiss, you didn't want to push your luck.

You gave into him immediately, eagerly, deepening the kiss and raking your fingers through his soft hair, pulling him into you as tongues collided, desperate, the need to show off was high for both of you. Eddie was powerless in your grip as you tilted his head up to you, moaning into the kiss as you bite and pull against his bottom lip. You made the effort to guide your hips against his, gaining friction between your legs in the hope to drive the kiss into seeming as alluring as possible. 

Eddie moves away from your lips, peppering kisses down your jaw to attack your neck. With your face free, you raise higher on your knees so he's face to face with your chest, giving him a better area to mark up. Glancing over the couch, you make eye contact with Jason Carver as he stands with a new group of people consisting of his girlfriend as well as Tommy and Carol, all of their eyes can't seem to leave you as you're practically ravished on the couch. You make a show of throwing your head back in a feverous moan while Eddie sucks on your skin. Tired of no longer being busy, you grip Eddie's cheeks to force his face toward yours, mouth open. 

“Swallow for me baby,” you whisper against his now plump lips, spitting against his tongue. Eddie complies immediately, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you continue to grind against his now raging hard-on. And when you suck on his tongue before letting out a breathy moan he becomes complete putty underneath you. At this point, he’d be okay with anything you say or do as long as you kept touching him. 

Maybe you were being a bit extra, but the town of Hawkins needed to know Eddie was cool, and if dry fucking the hot new girl in a stranger's living room was a good way to do it, who were you to deny him of the pleasure. You knew you were traveling down a slippery slope by keeping the act up, the kiss was already more than you were expecting to happen. However, it had been a while since you were able to seek therapy in a good fuck and your newfound friend was willing to give you what you yearned for. 

That's how you find yourself practically folded over the small sink in the downstairs bathroom. You were positive the door wasn't even closed all the way, but you didn't care. Eddie Munson was ramming his cock in your dripping hole, the sound of the party right outside was muffled by the loud moans escaping from your lips. 

The two of you didn’t even have the patience to undress properly. Your dress was pulled above your waist, Eddie’s pants were pulled down to his knees, just enough give so he could properly plant his feet. His hand that wasn't currently gripping your hair was in between your legs rubbing circles across your swollen clit. One extra hard thrust forces your face to press against the bathroom mirror, no choice but to stare into your soul, the man behind you free to use you however he pleases. 

“fuck, oh fuck princess, you feel s’good!” he cried out at your gummy walls sucking him in. your cunt gripped greedily at his cock, wanting all he could give you. “pretty fucking pussy— gonna fuck you like this all the time, yeah?” You can barely muster a response, your slick walls clenching against him, as he continues to force himself deep inside your hot core. The fucked out expression was evident on both of your faces, this was far more than platonic kissing. You reach your first climax quickly, riding the high on your best friend's throbbing cock. He continues to rub circles against your hardened bud, ripping out a second orgasm before you've even properly finished the first. 

“Too much, please Eds, need a break, please.” But Eddie doesn't slow down, your begging seems to fall on deaf ears. He can’t stop now that he's balls deep in your sloppy cunt, he needs to cum inside you, too far deep to pull out now. Searching for his own release Eddie continues to drill his hips into yours. A tight grip of your hair in one hand, the other squeezing your hip tightly no doubt leaving purple bruises. 

This is what you asked for, you tell yourself. You wanted, no needed to be fucked stupid. You needed to feel something and this was the only way to feel.  Eddie rutted into you like it was the last thing he could do, the angle of his cock repeatedly hitting your clenching walls. He left you no time to breathe, thrusting into you so hard that your body bounced off his cock and into the hard counter in front of you.

“cummin— fuck, wanna cum inside you so bad!” Eddie begged hips still jackhammering into your puffy pussy, he continued, “please lemme cum inside!”

“Give it to me Hawkins, go on fill me up. ‘M on the pill,” you moaned, your back arched, feeling the third orgasm of the night rolling out of you, a silent scream following your spasm. The force of clenching down on him midst orgasm drove him to his own, A gut-wrenching moan was ripped out of Eddie's throat as he released a load of sticky cum, inside you. You both rode your orgasms out, his hips now stuttering while unintentionally overstimulating himself.

When he finally found the strength to pull out of your sensitive hole, allowing you to catch your breath, you noticed the door was in fact not fully closed. Numerous sets of eyes peered through the crack watching the show through the mirror that was covered in your drool. At least they now understood that Eddie Munson Fucks. 

The cock drunk feeling that was fogging your brain soon dispersed, leaving you to your self-hatred that always came after a meaningless fuck. You knew it wasn't a healthy coping mechanism, but in California all people did was smoke, have sex, and suffer in silence. 

“You can go now,” you stated, not even turning to look Eddie in the eyes while you pull down your dress. 

“What?” 

“Go, have fun, Hawkins. I just want to catch my breath and clean up. Don't worry.” Lie.

“I can help you, I'm not gonna leave you here after that”

“I'll be fine,” another lie. “I'll come find you when I'm done and then we can head home.” truth. 

You didn't give Eddie the chance to attempt to argue before pushing him out the door. It was stupid really, the man has seen you naked with his cum dripping out of you, but the thought of him seeing you cry was too much. Leaning over the counter, in a similar position you were in mere moments ago, you grip the nest of hair that sat on your head as you sobbed. The hot tears rushed down your face as you struggled to steady your breathing. Sex was a way for you to feel loved, and wanted. Of course, you weren’t really worthy of proper love, men only sought you out for quickies in the alley. But you were content, it was how you had liked to live life, they can't hurt you if you don't let them get close. And when they manage to worm their way into your cold dead heart, you keep a distance, allowing for frequent fucking without feeling. 

It was routine at this point, get fucked, send the person away, cry, pretend it never happened, repeat. Of course, when you have sex with a friend the cycle changes a bit, but the key factors were always getting railed in unconventional places and then crying afterward. Self-loathing was a bitch, that's for sure. You take a second to find composure, making sure to clean out the mess between your legs, as well as the wreckage of tears and snot that caked your face. 

When you managed to find Eddie again, he was surrounded by a gaggle of girls you'd never met before. Seems like word got around and people were finally realizing the true potential that the metalhead had. When his eyes met yours he wasted no time getting to where you were standing, brushing a rogue strand of hair away from your forehead. “We're good, right? I know you offered just kissing and I don't know about you but that was definitely more than kissing.”

Mustering up your perfect fake smile, you give him a nod. 

“Yeah we’re good, but I'm tired so let's get out of here.”

The following Sunday wasn't awkward, neither of you decided to mention the party or the events that happened in the bathroom. The day was spent laying in bed, smoking, and pigging out on takeout with small naps in between. It was a good system you developed together. It was nice to have someone who you could just sit with, no expectation to hold a conversation.

Eddie was probably the first person to treat you like an actual human being and not a walking sex doll. It was refreshing. When the sun set and the moon was at the highest point in the sky, you decided you needed another milkshake. Forcing Eddie to drive you to the only diner open at this hour. The air was crisp and warm, a slight breeze flowed against your bare skin as you stepped out of the house in nothing but an oversized shirt, fitting well enough to hide what needed to be hidden. 

Inside the diner, however, was chilly. A shiver ran down your spine as you slid into the booth, opting to sit next to Eddie instead of across from him this time. Reliving the first time the two of you hung out on Friday, Eddie ordered a plate of fries for the table as well as two large chocolate shakes, making sure to ask for extra cherries, knowing you'd try to swipe his again. 

“Tell me about California. Not the fun parties, I wanna know anything and everything that your willing to share with me,” maybe it was the way eddies big brown eyes gazed at you, or the way he was drenching the plate of fries in ketchup knowing it’s how you liked them, but something in you knew you could trust him. 

“I've lived with my mom for as long as I can remember. She’s always been a scientist, working in labs and doing research. It made us good money but she was never around. Grew up with a nanny as pretentious as that may seem, but it wasn't awful. Can't even remember the last time I saw her, my mom not my old nanny. My dad… my dad was a piece of work that's for sure. They got divorced before I was born, but he decided having a daughter was like having a live-in maid, felt like Cinderella. It was quickly shut down by cps, haven’t really heard from him since.” You tell him about everything. Every fear, every insecurity. You share with him things you haven't even accepted yourself, painting out your soul to him in an empty diner.

In return, he tells you about his parents. How his uncle was his only support system for the longest time. He told you about all the bullshit he endured in school growing up. He told you about the middle school talent show, and how his band was still going strong (if that's how you could describe it). It was nice, spilling out everything the both of you had been holding in for so long. That’s the moment you realized you were wrong. Eddie was nothing like your friends in California. He was kinder, prettier, funnier, and a hundred percent a better person. 

The night ended shorter than the two of you would have liked, needing to get back to your house if you wanted to get any sleep before school the next day.

As promised, you drove him to school in the morning. Well, he drove while you sat in the back of the convertible, opting to feel the wind lap against your skin. It was probably the only thing other than sex that brought feeling back into your numbed mind, it was quite literally a breath of fresh air. 

Pulling into the parking lot of the school, Eddie was shocked to see so many people rocking the typical Munson attire. On a normal day it was rare to see someone outside of hellfire wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, looking out onto the courtyard there were at least ten of them. And when he walked into the school, you gripping onto his arm he was met with proper greetings instead of harsh shoves. Gareth and Jeff were both crowded by pretty girls, all begging for even an ounce of attention. Big smiles were etched onto both of their faces, this was a new leaf for the nerds of hellfire. Who knew voyeurism was the answer?

You and Eddie sadly part ways, this being the first time you've been away from each other since school on Friday. It was an odd feeling if you were, to be honest. Luckily lunch was just around the corner, and it wasn't long before Eddie was able to see your face in the crowded canteen. 

After the exhilarating rush of the morning, Hellfire decided that the lunch table was a sacred spot, turning away every new face that had approached them in hopes to sit with the crowd. He was happy to see you, excited to talk about the newfound popularity that had blossomed. The smile on his face, however, dropped when he noticed the sour expression you were wearing. 

“What’s gotten into you? What, I leave you for a few hours and your life crumbles apart,” Eddie wanted to try and make light of the situation, pulling you into the seat next to him. 

“Nothing, I'm clearly fine.”

“You're clearly not fine, what happened.”

“Katy Harris happened that's what,” you pushed out with a huff. You knew your anger was stupid, you've never let something as petty gossip get to your head. Lies about you were normal, but when people lied about someone you cared about you didn't let things slide. “That bitch was telling everyone that she fucked you at the drive-in on Sunday.”

“How- but I was with you all day? When would I even-” 

“I KNOW! I told her that right to her face too, should have seen it. That stupid smug expression she had basically melted off her face when she was caught in the lie. She's such a fucking cunt, ugly too. Her stupid red hair.” You didn't mean to be rude, you weren't one to succumb to tearing another girl down, but she deserved it. You were already in too deep with your feelings, Eddie could practically see the thoughts ooze out of your ears. 

“There's something else going on in that pretty head of yours sweetheart. Tell me what's up?” You almost didn't want to answer, your fears and doubts getting the better of you. Yeah, the plan was to prove that Eddie Munson was cool, granted there was nothing to prove. It was a fact that he was California cool, you knew it and that's all that mattered. But there was a gnawing fear in the back of your head. You had let Eddie in, given him what he wanted, and this was his chance to take it and run. It's what everyone did, no one wanted to stick around when they didn't have to. 

You were aware of your extreme personality. You knew your coping mechanisms were toxic, most people unable to find comfort in your misery, but you wanted Eddie to be different. He was the first person to treat you normally, I mean yeah he was a little skittish at first, anyone would be in the presence of a pretty girl. The thing that made him different was the fact that he stopped treating you as just a pretty face once he got to know you. He stuck around when you opened up, and he didn't look at you differently after you had fucked him into oblivion. 

But he didn't need to stick around any longer. And that thought terrified you.

“You're not gonna leave right? Now that you and your friends are set for life, I mean,” The words that left your body were barely above a whisper, you nearly choked on them as they tried to escape. You've already shown enough insecurity to last a lifetime, you didn't want to further push your luck. The only thing it seemed like he didn't know about you was your sex cycle of sadness. You refused to tell him about that part of you, not now at least. Especially not after the fact that you basically used him two days ago.

The idea that you could even possibly think that nearly killed Eddie. He's spent every waking moment in your presence overthinking every move, every word in fear that you'd drop him at any sort of inconvenience. Yet, here you were laying the same worries out in front of him. As if he was looking for an out this whole time. As if he wasn't already head over heels for you after four days. It wasn't even like he hid it well, he melted under your gaze, his heart trying its hardest to burst out of his chest every time you cuddled up to him in your bed. You had that effect on people.

Deciding that this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in front of the wandering eyes of hellfire, Eddie held his hand in yours, pulling you out of the nearest door he could find. The two of you end up sitting against a wall behind the school, away from prying ears and eyes. It was the first time all day that Eddie felt the peace of being a loser again. 

“Talk to me, what's gotten into you,” the look Eddie gave you flooded your body with pure serenity. 

“We had pointless stupid sex.”

“I'm quite aware that we had sex, but pointless really? I wouldn't go that far.” Eddie let out a dry laugh. It was obvious this conversation wasn't going to flow as easily as he had hoped for, his insecurity already bubbling to the surface. He was almost to scared to ask if you regretted it. You said things were fine that same night, but clearly things weren’t fine.”Was it really meaningless for you? 

“Get over yourself. Best friends fuck. It totally normal. All sex is pointless.”

Now Eddie was really confused. He could see the internal battle fighting against your face as if you already regretted the direction this was turning. “What are you talking ab-”

“I used you okay? I got you involved in my fucked up shit, I used you for sex to soothe my self-hatred. But- But it's fine, it should be fine because you used me too. We're even, it should be a done deal. I got what I want, you got what you want, so no need to stick around. But I don't-” you pause feeling a lump in your throat start to form. Taking a deep breath you look up to Eddie who's trying to process your words. “I don't want- I want you to stick around though. You’re the first person I've ever wanted to stick around and I hate it. I don't want you to have sex with other people. I want to get chocolate milkshakes together every day. I want to go to parties with you. I want to watch you play at the hideaway…I don't want to push you away. It should be easy, it's always easy but now it's not. And I'm fucking terrified.”

Eddie's face held no emotion, it was impossible to even attempt to guess what was rushing through his mind. Minutes had begun to pass and still no response from the man in front of you. 

“You know what? Just forget it okay? Forget I said anything it was stupid, I don't even know what I was saying,” Attempting to stand up Eddie gripped your wrist, forcing you to sit back down on the grass. You didn't dare look up at him, he now knew every terrible thing about you, every insecurity and how to make you subvert. The ball was in his court. 

It still took Eddie a while to say anything, and when he did it definitely wasn't anything that you were expecting. 

“Look at me.”

It was barely a whisper, if it wasn't so quiet outside you probably wouldn't have heard it in the first place. Nonetheless, you complied. Lifting your gaze to meet his, you felt microscopic. Eddie didn't make you feel small, no he always made you feel whole, but the tension between the two of you made you feel weak. It was odd, that with a tight gaze it felt like Eddie had your mind written on a scroll. It felt like he could read everything that filled your thoughts, analyzing every part of your being. And as if he was finally able to understand, you saw the glint of something unreadable in his eyes. Ready for rejection, rejection of what? you didn't know yet, you braced yourself for anything he may say or do.

Apparently, you weren't prepared enough, however, because as he raised a hand to stroke your cheek, confusion washed over you like a tidal wave. It was even more unexpected when he leaned down to kiss you. Not like the kiss you shared on Saturday. This one was soft, full of adoration and care. It was freeing, the same feeling that the wind gave you. It was the first time someone’s ever kissed you like they wanted to savor your existence.

Barely pulling away, Eddie mumbled against your lips, four words that represented a promise. A declaration of a future where you didn't need to suffer alone anymore. He knew you well enough to understand the emotions you were feeling at the time, and he wanted to promise himself to you.

“Let me love you.”

He would be the first, no one dared to cross that line before. But it was worth it. You were the only person who made him feel seen, you made him feel cool. And if loving you was all you asked in return then he’d willingly love you until it was his demise.