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havecourage-darling · 2 years ago

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I've always been yours // Eddie Munson

Prompt: "I think... I'm in love with him.” "Congrats on being the last one to find out" + the 5 ways to say I love you without saying I love you.

wc: 14K (I'm learning what brevity means y'all)

warnings: female reader, some implied sexual stuff towards the end but not really ish, friends-to-lovers, oblivious idiots in love, the beginnings of rockstar eddie.

Masterlist || AO3

1. Covering sharp edges with their hands, so you don’t get hurt.

You were going to get Max’s birthday cake absolutely perfect even if it fucking killed you, you thought to yourself as your arm ached the harder you mixed the batter.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help Nov?” Eddie asked again.

Pushing the hair out of your eyes with the back of your wrist, you huffed. “I’m okay. I think I adjusted the recipe perfectly this time. I just need to make sure there’s no lumps or the chocolate won’t-”

“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU WHEELER!” You heard Dustin yell from the basement.

Eddie snorted. “Ten bucks on Mike,” he said from his place on the counter.

“I’m telling Dustin you said that,” you said, turning from your batter and shooting him a playful look over your shoulder.

He clasped his imaginary pearls dramatically. “Fair maiden, you dare betray our sacred friendship?”

Not able to keep your laugh down, you shook your head. Loud stomping alerted you to the shift of location of whatever fight was happening.

“Do not come into the kitchen with your shit!” You shouted.

Dustin’s voice floated in from the living room. “But Mike-”

“But Mike nothing!” You shouted. “You two shitheads work it out!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Mike shouted, grunting right after. “Ow! Dustin!”

Eddie immediately huffed out laughter. “I’d listen to her, she’s on her fifth batch. Her face is getting whiter and whiter with each cake.”

Your hand flew up to your face, fingers coming back dusted in flour. Turning your glare to his grinning face, you rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have told me?”

“And ruin how cute you look with all that flour on your face?” Eddie said, nonchalantly going back to the book in his hands. Doing your best to ignore the flustered expression you knew was growing on your face, you turned back to the batter. Eddie always managed to draw out reactions from you, you were sure that was the main reason why he kept doing it.

I like unnerving you he’d said. Asshole, you thought fondly, glancing at him. A good chunk of flour dusted down towards your hands at the motion. Christ, how much flour was on your face?

“I’m going to slap you the second I put this into a pan,” you threatened, trying to get it all off.

Eddie’s grin morphed into something more. “Promises, promises,” he winked.

And there went the butterflies in your stomach.

You opened your mouth to say something else when a blur of curly hair, black shirts, and a flying white shoe flung the kitchen door open.

“Guys,” Eddie warned, placing his book down.

“For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong now?” You said, putting the bowl down onto the kitchen island and stepping towards them with your hands on your hips.

Dustin was the quickest to speak up. “He borrowed the comic that I just managed to get and got it wet!”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Mike shouted back. “I swear, Holly was eating at the table and spilled her soda!”

“Likely story!” Dustin snapped, eyes narrowing. “You’re doing it because I accidentally broke your figurines last week. I didn’t want to hit that pothole and go flying!”

“For the love of- it wasn’t on purpose!”

Dustin’s arms swung out and Mike darted left to avoid being hit. Before they could even crash together, you knew exactly what was going to happen.

As if in slow motion, you watched as Dustin shoved Mike’s arm into the mixing bowl. Without much prompting, your perfect batter, went tumbling off the island and flew with a vengeance in a million different directions. The opened bag of flour next to it, toppled right after it.

The silence as the bowl wobbled to a stop was painful. You blinked, shocked for a few seconds and nodded dumbly.

Well, that hurt more than the demobats clawing at your neck in the Upside Down.

“I’m going to rip your spines out and play jump rope with it,” you said calmly, eye twitching, at Mike and Dustin. The flour was splattered everywhere, including your new vans and the crevices no one was ever able to clean in the cracks of the linoleum.

The two idiots shuffled closer to the door. At least they had the decency to look somewhat mortified. Before you could go through with your threat, Eddie’s hands came down to their necks and they both winced.

“Dudes, not cool,” he said, voice uncharacteristically serious. “She said don’t come into the kitchen for a reason. Now she’s gotta wait until you two assholes clean this all up before starting again.”

“Wha-” “But!”

Their protests quickly died down when he smacked them in the back of their heads.

“You break it, you fix it,” he said.

Hiding a smile, you rounded the island towards the rag by the sink and sighed. “Try to hurry, I want to get this decorated before midnight,” you said to the two apologetic teens who were already moving towards the mess.

Pushing the door out into the dining room you tried your best not to trek batter anywhere. Swiping the rag down your face and hair to get rid of any remaining flour you leaned down to help save your vans.

A sudden hand flying out towards your face made you flinch back. Falling onto your butt, you groaned as your hip smacked into the leg of the table.

Eddie shook his head, a soft expression on his face. Your eyes trailed down to where his hand was curled around the corner of the dining table. “Did I almost go face first into that?” You asked from where you were sprawled.

“Yeah, Nova, you almost cracked your skull,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I’d tell you to be more careful but it’d be a waste of breath.” Eddie tugged the rag out your hand and sat down by your feet.

“I-I am insulted.” The indignation cancelled out by the stammering. Eddie had picked up one of your, now dirty, sneakers and plopped it into his lap. He went about meticulously cleaning the chocolate off. “I can do that. You don’t have to-”

His brown eyes darted up to yours, silencing you. “I know I don’t have to; I want to.”

Mildly surprised, and a little flustered by his earnest tone, you nodded dumbly. By the time he was done, there was a pink tinge to his cheeks that you found stupidly endearing.

“There you go fair maiden. Good as new.” He bowed, dropping the rag onto the table. He offered his hand and pulled you up with a firm grip.

Warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight of his wide smile and soft gaze. “Thanks Eddie,” you said, smiling up at him.

He tossed an arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards the kitchen. “Come on, let’s go give them a little more hell,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

Not one to resist, you beamed up at him and nodded. “Dibs on Mike,” you said, laughing when he did.

2. Covering you with a blanket when you look cold.

You met Eddie when you were in middle school but, you hadn’t really become friends until freshman year of high school. You were a cheerleader, one of the few freshmen on the team, and you’d caught Tommy Hagan cornering Eddie in a hallway.

You hadn’t hesitated at the sight of the stupid bully and had thrown your pompoms at his head. With a promise of a Herkie to the face, Tommy and his entourage had left you alone.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, bending over to pick up your tossed pompoms.

Eddie, however, hadn’t looked like he was two seconds away from being shoved into a locker. He was beaming. At you.

“What?” You asked, looking around at the empty hallway. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, I just…didn’t ever think that my knight in shining armor would be a cheerleader,” he said, tone teasing.

Biting back a smile, you crossed your arms. “Why? Because we’re vapid and only care about our hair?” You cocked your hip.

“No,” Eddie said, straightening, “I swear, that’s not what I-”

Not able to help it, you burst out into laughter. “I’m fucking with you,” you said, hiding your laugh behind your hand. “I know Tommy’s little sister and she basically rules his household. He knows not to mess with her.”

Eddie smiled and you’d realized that he had a really nice smile. With a flourish, he bowed. “Well, I’m in your debt knight.”

Scrunching your nose, you shook your head. “Not a fan of the nickname?” He asked, starting towards the exit doors. Walking backwards, he drifted closer to you. “What about Nova?”

“What?” You laughed, surprised. “How’d you go from Knight to Nova?”

“Well, you’re my knight in shining armor – what’s brighter than a supernova?”

Throwing your head back, your laugh echoed down the hallway. You’d quickly become friends.

“Novaaaa, come on,” Eddie groaned, flopping down onto the sofa, “just pick a movie.” Clearly, almost a decade later, the nickname had stuck.

“Don’t rush me!” You told him, eyeing the three tapes in front of you. “Which one do you want to watch?”

Eddie’s head lolled back around to you and he smiled. “It’s your turn to pick,” he reminded you.

“I know, but-”

“Just put on Grease,” Eddie said, voice muffled by the pillow. You were about to protest, what an absolutely rude assumption, when a knock echoed from Eddie’s front door. “Pizza’s here. Pick a movie!”

Sighing, knowing that he’d had a bad week, you pushed Indiana Jones into the VCR. The smell of hot pizza wafted over to you and your stomach immediately roared – reminding you that you hadn’t had enough time to eat before your shift.

“Alright, alright, I heard you,” Eddie said, motioning to your stomach. He brought the box over, handing you some water and frowned at the television. “What’s this?”

“Indianamph Jonesah,” you said, around a mouthful of steaming pizza. You were going to miss your tastebuds but goddamn if it wasn’t a great mouthful.

Eddie rolled his eyes, pulled the tape out and shoved Grease in. Dodging your flailing arm, he dropped to the floor by the coffee table, his shoulder brushing your knee.

The opening music started and you found your eyes drawn to the screen. “What the hell?”

“I got that because I know you like to watch one of the same five movies after a long shift,” he said, picking up his own slice.

“But-”

He bumped your leg with his shoulder. “It was your turn to pick, I promise – I don’t mind. Besides, it’s starting to grow on me. It’s definitely better than Overboard.”

“Hey, that’s a good movie!”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Right, and I’m Ozzy Osbourne.”

“Well,” you said with a smile growing, “you had the chance to bite off a bat’s head but you wasted that opportunity.”

Choking on his mouthful of pizza, Eddie laughed and shot you a soft look. “I’m glad my brush with death is something you can laugh about now.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been almost a year. Thought it was about time we all started joking about almost dying,” you said, “besides, Max started it.”

“I’ve never met another person with such morbid humor,” Eddie said, eyes following Danny and Sandy as they kissed on the beach. A flash of something shot through you but you ignored it.

You shrugged despite the fact that you knew he couldn’t see it. “I’m kinda proud of her for having it,” you said, bopping your head to the music you knew by heart.

I solve my problems and I see the light

We gotta loving thing, we gotta feed it right

Eddie turned to you suddenly, his eyes shifting. “Yeah, I’m proud of all of us.”

You grinned at him, dropping your plate onto the table and getting comfortable on Eddie’s couch. It was one of his better purchases – Wayne had chosen to accept the new trailer the state had bought him while Eddie had moved into a small one bedroom downtown. It made more sese considering it was close to the music store you both worked at.

“I’m not pausing the movie if you knock out,” he warned as you fluffed the pillow behind your head.

“I’m not going to fall asleep, when am I ever the one who knocks out first?”

Eddie shot you a look. “Did you want me to bring out a list or?”

Smacking the back of his head, he ducked and laughed when you half missed your target. “Alright, alright, I’m missing the good stuff.”

“I knew you liked this movie,” you said, nudging him with your knee. Eddie shot you a withering glare, or he tried to, because you laughed at his attempt. Amused, his eyes drifted to over your head and you were about to turn when something dropped into your lap.

Eddie pulled the crocheted blanket over your legs and let it pool around your waist. The black and white blanket had been gifted to Eddie by Robin. She’d decided she was going to learn to crochet last year and spent the entire months leading up to Christmas lost in her projects. Your green scarf was hanging with your jacket by the door. You loved this blanket and you knew Eddie did too – it was always draped across the sofa for easy access.

“My place gets cold at night,” he said at your questioning look, “you know that. Besides, you’ll make it an hour before knocking out.”

The sweet gesture was overshadowed by his smug look and your hand jutted out to hit any part of him you could reach. “I’m not going to fall asleep.”

Both of you went back and forth, poking fun, and as you watched Danny ignore Sandy for Cha-Cha, you heard Eddie snort.

“What?” You asked, tapping your fingers along to the beat.

“I just always thought it was funny how he leaves her behind, he just goes with it,” he said.

You pointed to the cameras. “They’re on live television,” you explained sleepily.

“So?” Eddie raised his brow. “Are you defending him?”

“Of course not!” Why was this couch so comfortable? The blanket moved around you, warm hands tucking it over your shoulders and sighing when you snuggled into it.

Eddie’s knowing smile went a little fuzzy around the edges as your eyes felt harder and harder to keep open. Before you could formulate a comeback, the exhaustion of the day pulled you under. As you were entirely lost to the world, you heard Eddie murmur, “I would never leave you behind.”

3. Holding your hand when you’re falling apart.

Four years of cheerleading practice had not prepared you for what it truly meant to run for your life. Not really.

It stood to reason that you’d really never had to run from an interdimensional monster before – up until your employment at The Gap. Honestly, it was The Gap’s fault.

You’d met Robin at the first Hawkins Middle School band practice as small seventh graders. Her mom had told her she needed to get a job for the summer and she’d dragged you along with her. She had gotten hired at Scoops Ahoy and, in your defense, who was going to say no to a daily free ice cream? So, if you really thought about it – it was Scoop’s fault. And Robin’s.

The moment you saw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington behind the counter, you should’ve turned the other way. But no, Robin was absolutely sure he’d changed. You snorted. Sure, he’d changed. Having all your friends drop you towards the end of your senior year would humble anyone. You’d been close enough to the source when the downfall of The Hair happened. It hadn’t been pretty. Especially after Nancy Wheeler decided to stick by Jonathan.

While he hadn’t been one of the few who liked to remind you of your low spot on the totem pole, he definitely wasn’t Mother Theresa. You’d seen how his friends treated Eddie’s friends – people who they deemed outcasts. Eddie had only been mostly spared because you two were practically fused at the hip. Besides, he knew that Nancy liked you – the two of you had hung out before considering you’d both been close friends with Barb. While you and her weren’t best friends, you knew he didn’t want to mess with anyone Nancy liked. Which, really, made him a selfish, self-centered asshole. And anyway, you’d seen what he’d spray painted onto the theater header.

It wasn’t until you saw him with Dustin, one of your favorite neighbors, that you’d conceded. How could someone who clearly held a middle schooler up to such high standards be that bad? Besides, Dustin was a kid – but you trusted him. Robin, of course, still held that against you to this day.

To be fair, Steve himself hadn’t won you over until he’d taken hit after hit to keep you and Robin as safe as possible. Russians in a secret lab under Starcourt injecting you with truth serum was not something you’d had on your 1985 bingo card.

You still remembered how Steve had grabbed each of your wrists so tightly that it’d taken weeks for the bruises to fade. He’d practically tossed you both under a massive table when the Mind Flayer had landed mid-food court. Robin clutched at your shoulders, Steve a steadying presence behind you.

He’d waited, for hours, as the EMTs cleared all of you outside the burning mall. And while you’d hoped that this was the last time any of your friends, new or old, had tried to save you – clearly that had been wishful thinking.

The muscles in your arms burned as you hauled yourself through the gate. Breath knocked out of you as you landed on your back, you glanced up to see Eddie’s hands stilling on the makeshift rope.

“Come on!” Dustin screamed. “Eddie come on!”

A flash of something crossed his expression and you knew. You knew he was going to do something stupid.

“Eddie!” You screamed, voice cracking in your desperation. His wide eyes struck yours and you knew the moment he’d decided. “Don’t you fucking dare! Edward Munson, you listen to me right now. Climb this fucking rope.”

“I’m sorry Nov,” he said, staring up at you with a sad smile. Without thinking, you scrambled to throw yourself down the gate but the rope dropped by your feet, cut from the source. “I love you. Take care of Dustin,” he said, eyes sincere and apologetic.

“Eddie!” You both screamed, voices hoarse.

Panic clawed at your chest. You couldn’t breathe – he was…he was going to get himself fucking killed. Spurring into action, Dustin pushed you aside as he grunted from the effort of pushing the dining table towards the middle of the room. “Come on! Those things will kill him, we gotta get back!”

Not one to be told twice, you shoved a few pieces of furniture on top of the table for good measure. You climbed up to the gate, barely able to touch the edges. Adrenaline rushed through you as you looked down to Dustin. “Give me a boost, I can almost reach it!”

Without hesitating, Dustin kneeled, hands on your calves and you used his knee to hoist yourself up. You didn’t have much time to adjust yourself but you channeled every tumbling move you’d ever done and tried to tuck and roll. Mostly successful, you only winced as your shoulder collided painfully with the metal chair.

“Okay, I’ll be right back!”

“You can’t just fucking leave me here!” Dustin shouted. You pointed up at him with all the authority you could muster.

“Try to tie more sheets together, the others will need help climbing through when they come back,” you glared at him, “don’t do anything stupid Henderson.”

Not waiting for a response, you kicked the trailer door open and scanned the field. A tornado of bats and a loud, heartbreaking, scream cut through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you fucking idiot,” you said, panicking as you ran. You watched as the bats took turns diving for him, his spear barely keeping them back.

“Come on!” He screamed into the eye of the storm. Because of course he did. The idiot. You willed your legs to run faster, to just get you there so you could help. Then, they struck. Eddie’s hands whipped up to his throat and you watched him slam into the floor.

“Eddie!” You screamed, throat raw, but it was drowned out by the screeching bats. A flash of Billy being impaled, lifted into the air, and thrown like a ragdoll bubbled up to your consciousness. No, please, you begged, not Eddie, not him.

Slowing as you neared, you pulled the gun from around your shoulders and squared them like Hopper had taught you. The shots echoed despite the chaos, your blood rushing through your body. “Get away from him!” You shrieked, fighting your way through the opening you’d created.

You slipped on the unmoving body of the ones you’d shot down and slid directly into an motionless Eddie. Covering his body with your own, you raised your gun as they swooped down. Almost out of bullets, you’d just hit another when one managed to swipe you from the side – claws digging into your skin. Screaming, you waved the gun like Steve’s bat and swatted as many as you could out the air.

Shit, you couldn’t keep this up. There were too many.

Then, as if puppets that were cut, they all dropped to the floor. One slammed into your bad shoulder painfully and you cried out.

“Nov?”

The weak voice was like beacon and you quickly slid to the ground. You weren’t going to question your good luck. Pulling the leather jacket off his chest your heart dropped down next to the dead demobats and you immediately started to cry.

“That bad huh?” He joked, voice wet as blood poured out his mouth.

“You absolute fucking asshole. You dickhead,” you berated him as you tied your own cargo jacket around the gash in his stomach. Rising to your knees, you quickly pulled your belt off your waist and made a tourniquet around his upper thigh. Your hands were drenched in blood and you forced the bile down. Focus, you need to stop the bleeding. You needed to get him back to the trailer, you yelled at yourself.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie’s weak hand came up to your forearm and your heart creaked as the cracks deepened. “It’ll be okay.”

“No it won’t you fucking moron, you’re my best friend – I – can’t watch you die. I won’t,” you said, hauling him onto your lap. You tried to stand but your shoulder immediately gave and you both crashed to the ground.

A sob wrenched it’s way out your throat, helpless and willing your shoulder to work. Just this time, please, please, you begged.

“Nova,” Eddie’s voice trailed off, weaker than before.

Cradling his stupid face, your hands left streaks of blood on his pale skin. Shaking, your fingers caressed his jaw. The brown eyes, more familiar to you than your own, slowly started to fade.

“Eddie, stay with me, someone’s coming okay – it’s going to be okay,” you said, entire body clinging to his.

“I-I told you this was my year,” he said, blood tricking down. His unseeing eyes searched for you, like they always did, and you realized that you wouldn’t survive this. Eddie was going to fade from existence, the entire town thinking him a murderer, and this would finally be the storm that broke you.

“I can’t live without you,” you stammered, words bubbling up in rapid succession, you had things you needed to say – stuff you needed to do with him still. You were supposed to have time – it wasn’t supposed to end this way. Jaw aching as you bit down your anguish, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and he sighed. “Eddie, please,” you begged, unashamed and desperate.

Take me, you begged the dark skies that mocked you, anyone but him.

“I l-love-” he gagged, choking on his own blood and you pressed your forehead against his.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay, I’m here Eddie. I’m here. I know. Me too,” you said, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Sorry you weren’t fast enough, sorry you couldn’t save him, sorry for having to be the one to watch him die. Eddie’s hand came up to your wrist, squeezing once before dropping limp.

The silence around you was deafening. No, no, no, no.

You screamed, anguished, and the pain unbearable. Anger coursed through you, mixing with your overwhelming grief. It crashed into you from all angles, its hands grabbing onto you and pulling you under. Your throat hurt but you couldn’t stop screaming, all of you couldn’t stop screaming in the unfairness of it all.

“Eddie?” A voice shouted through the darkness. You whipped your head up, searching through the night for the voice.

“Steve?” You called out tentatively, hand reaching for your discarded gun. Was this a trick? You scanned your surroundings, vision blurry. No, you steeled yourself, this place had already taken everything from you – they couldn’t have his body too.

Swinging the gun towards the quick footsteps, you ignored your trembling arms.

“Hey, hey! Wait, it’s me,” Steve said, hands up. He stepped in front of Robin, his eyes on the still body behind you.

Eyes wild, you blinked away your constant tears, and loosened the hold on your gun. “Stevie?”

“It’s me, it’s me – I promise,” he said, hand coming out to take your shotgun. Handing it to Nancy, he pulled you into his arms. “What happened?” He winced when he saw your skin bleeding sluggishly.

“Eddie?” Robin whispered, dropping to her knees beside him.

Willing yourself to keep it together you nodded towards the house. “What happened?”

“He’s dead, we got him – Nance got him. It’s over.”

Feeling weak, you leaned on Nancy’s outstretched arm and watched as Steve dropped to examine him.

“He’s – he – cut the rope – I tried, my shoulder – it, oh God,” you said, scrambling towards the nearest wall and throwing up everything in your stomach. A warm hand came up to your back, rubbing it back and forth until your heaving stopped.

“I got you,” Nancy said, “I’m here, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”

He was dead. Eddie was gone. Nothing would ever be okay again.Your blood-soaked hands reached out and she clasped them. Eyes on yours, strong and steady, she nodded. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“Nance,” your voice sounded warped. “I tried.”

She shushed you, bringing your arm over her shoulders and taking most of your weight as you crumbled. You watched as Robin and Steve grabbed him, moving quickly towards the trailer.

“What? Where are you going?” Nancy shouted.

Robin grunted under the weight as she climbed the steps. “He’s got a pulse! The tourniquets are holding! We gotta move fast!”

Coincidentally, the nearest hospital to Forest Park was at the town line one over. Robin had assured you that since it wasn’t Hawkins, they weren’t likely to recognize him instantly. Worry for Max joined your overwhelming weight as you glanced at the destruction the earthquake had wreaked. “Do you think he got her?” You asked, voice barely audible.

“I killed him as the clock was chiming,” Nancy said, “it only rang three times. I’ll call when we get to the hospital – they’ll be okay. We’re all okay. We have to be.”

After admitting Eddie, a concerned nurse offered you a pair of scrubs to change into. Glancing down at your clothes, you realized you were covered in blood. Eddie’s blood.

Tearing up, her eyes had softened incredibly and she helped you wash it off. “It’ll all work out honey, you’ll see,” she whispered as the blood dribbled down the drain. You’d barely felt the needle as she stitched the claw marks on your chest and neck.

It’d taken an hour of arguing but you promised the others you could keep it together for the night as they drove back to Hawkins to figure out what was going on. Robin had kissed the top of your now clean hair, and clasped her hands with yours. “I will be back as soon as I can, okay? As fast as I can.” The fierceness in her tone had your eyes tearing up again and she hugged you tightly.

Five hours after being admitted, with no news, you received the second shock of the night.

“Hopper?” You sputtered, almost bowled over to see the ghost of your old Chief of police.

Head shaved, a few pounds lighter, but the smile that came from hearing your voice was just the same. “Hey kid,” he said, bringing you into a tight hug.

It took another hour, and the arrival of just about everyone you knew, for a nurse to let you know that Eddie had stabilized. They’d needed to operate to stop the internal bleeding, he’d needed a few blood transfusions and was placed into a medically induced coma, but he’d be alright.

“He’s…he’ll be okay?” You asked, not willing to cling onto any false hope.

The nurse from earlier stepped forward, her kind eyes wrinkled as she smiled. “Yeah, honey, he’ll be okay.”

Swallowing back your tears, you pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”

Two hours later, while you sat glued to his side, Hopper let you know that Eddie was cleared of all charges.

“Do you want to know?” He asked.

Shaking your head, you smiled up at him for the first time in the last twelve hours. The sun peaked out from the horizon, drenching Eddie’s dark room in a warm orange light. “I don’t care how. Just – thank you.”

Hopper ruffled your hair and you leaned into his touch like cat arching for more affection. “They’ll want your statement but not until a few days from now. As far as you know, you were over Robin’s with Steve for the entire night. Her neighbor, Mrs. Matthews has already said she could corroborate your alibi.”

Smiling, you nodded. “I don’t even want to know what the U.S. government had on her.”

“You don’t,” he agreed.

It took Eddie another day to wake up. Wayne had finally convinced you to go get something to eat, I won’t leave his side sweetheart, I promise.

You balanced the two coffees in your hand as you pushed open the door to Eddie’s room. Surprised to see the entire party surrounded by the bed, you blinked, a little taken aback.

Dustin was the first to catch your eye, his grin so wide it almost split his face in two. “Eddie’s awake!” Your eyes darted to the bed, the man in it grinning up at a tearful Wayne.

“You absolute asshole,” you hissed, not able to keep it down.

The party laughed, Steve shaking his head. “Hi Nova,” Eddie said, voice hoarse, and you felt your stomach swoop as those eyes met yours. “I’m sorry.”

“You better be,” you said, handing Wayne his coffee. He promised to be back, wanting to speak to the doctor. The moment the door closed; chaos reigned. Everyone talked over each other and you watched, amused. Sipping your coffee, you smacked Lucas’ shoulder as he made fun of something Mike said.

Steve’s whistle was loud enough to pierce several eardrums and you winced. “One at time! The man just woke up from a coma.”

“Medically induced coma,” Mike clarified.

You fought the urge to smack him too.

Despite the severity of what brought Eddie to the hospital, after a week – he was given the all clear. The party was at Eddie’s new trailer, decorating the larger space for his homecoming. You’d been tasked to watch over the patient. You’d arrived early, still not entirely able to have him out of your sights for too long. As you popped your head in, you realized he was asleep.

Dropping into the comfortable chair next to his bed, you set yourself up for waiting. In the past week and a half, you hadn’t managed to find a moment alone with Eddie. There was always a party member at his bedside at all times. Or a band member. Or a parent.

Eddie’s room had quickly become well known for the noise and chattering that spilled out into the hallways. At its absence, you realized you didn’t know what to do.

Smacking his lips, Eddie’s head moved towards the door, eyes still closed. As he shifted, you caught sight of the large bandage by his neck. The purple bruising on his arms looked painful and your chest clenched at the sight of them.

It seemed that before you could decide for yourself, the silence swallowed you whole. Bringing you hand up to your lips, you tried to silence your sobs. Chest heaving with the effort, you buried your face into your hands and cried. The last week of pushing everything down and resolving to deal with it later had finally caught up to you.

Everyone has their reckoning, you were reminded. This was yours.

A warm hand came up to your shoulder, the bandaged one, and softly caressed where the tape adhered to your skin. “Hey you,” he said, sleep clinging to the corner of his knowing gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered, trying to push it back down but there was no use. Pandora’s box had been opened. Turning from him, you caught sight of his frown. His pained grunt made you whip back to him and you almost tripped over your own feet as you rushed to help. Eddie’s expression was twisted as he sat up, sweat beading at his temples.

“Lie down, you psychopath,” you said once the lump in your throat let you speak. “The bed will move for you! You just had surgery on your side for fuck’s sake.” You ducked your head, trying to avoid his eyes as you adjusted the bed to his liking.

Stubborn as always, Eddie tapped your forearm. “Don’t hide from me, not you,” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. Giving in, you let your blurry sight find his and he sighed. “Nova, you should’ve told me.”

“Told you what?” You said through desperate inhales.

“That you’d been bottling it up – come here,” he said. You wished you could climb into the bed with him but you couldn’t, his incision still very off limits to movement. You were trying to decide where to touch, when he decided for you. His right hand opened, fingers wiggling towards you. “Come on.”

Interlocking your fingers with his, relishing in the touch, you pressed the back of his hand to your cheek. His pulse beat against yours, alive – wondrously and beautifully alive. This, this was what you needed. A moment to lose it before rearranging the bricks of your mental foundation back in place. The image of him, eyes unseeing, bubbled to the surface and despair twisted it’s venomous grip around your lungs.

Choking, you let the sob come out unbidden. Not sure you could stop it if you wanted to, you let the tears drown you. Weeping, you whimpered as you accepted what could’ve been. What you would’ve had to watch. The fact that you would’ve had something so important ripped from your grasp.

He's okay, you thought, he’s alive.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice a quiet echo of Nancy’s lost words. “I’m here. I got you.” After a few minutes, your chest stopped heaving and you could take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, a little embarrassed. “Thank you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling your hand from your face and towards his own. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles and you blinked at him.

“Why are you sorry?” Christ, you were a mess. He’d been in a coma for two days and he was comforting you. He’d almost died and you were too weak to be strong for your friend.

“I’m sorry for leaving you,” he said, “I’m sorry that you had to be the one I left behind. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that. I’m sorry for hurting you even if I’d do it again if it meant you were safe. It was scary and I’m sorry for doing that to you, no matter how important it was that I did it.”

His thumb caressed your hand and you bit back the tears that wanted to wail out to the world that you’d almost lost something that couldn’t be replaced. But the silence that fell was comforting, a soft and easy kind. One that didn’t need to be filled and his pulse was a balm soothing your raw panic.

And yet -

“Don’t leave me here alone. It’s your Sam calling,” you said, eyes on his. A small real, smile broke out on his face and he squeezed your hand.

Despite the bandages across his jaw, and the wince of pain as he shifted, you hadn’t seen someone look so beautiful.

“Don’t go where I can’t follow, wake up Mr. Frodo,” Eddie whispered and you beamed at him.

4. Telling you to call them so they know you got home safe.

“For fuck’s sake,” you hissed, rubbing your temples as you watched Robin hop on top of a bar table to dance.

Eddie’s laughter hit your ear and you shivered at the warmth. “Come on Nov, she looks like she’s having fun,” he said, chest pressed against your back. Tucking his chin over your shoulder, you finally waved down the bartender.

“Can I have another club soda please?” You asked, handing her the money. She nodded, eyes drifting to Eddie and smiling.

“You two are a really cute couple,” she said, sliding the glass towards you.

Opening your mouth to correct her, Eddie beat you to it. “Thank you!” At your glance, he shrugged. “It’s easier to go along with.”

Something in your chest tightened at the thought but you shrugged. “Jesus, Eddie, can you bring her down? She’s going to end up falling and cracking her neck.”

Eddie sighed, his warm hand coming up to squeeze your waist. “We really need to stop promising to be the babysitters,” he said, lips brushing against your temple before leaving to drag a protesting Robin off the sticky table.

“Hey,” a guy to your left said, his hair long and pin straight.

You turned to him, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to make it look like you were welcoming any type of flirting. Eddie already had to shove a creep with a persistent attitude off of Nancy. “Hi,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said, a little too quiet for the noise level inside, “but is that the lead singer of Corroded Coffin?”

Relief flooded through you and your shoulders dropped. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Holy shit, I saw his band last month when he was the opening act for Riot Act. I’m a big fan! They’ve got a great sound,” he said awed. “Sorry! I’m Jack.”

“Hey, I’m-”

“-here with someone,” Eddie’s voice floated over your shoulder and towards the straightening man on the stool.

A little surprised by Eddie’s furrowed expression, and practically thrown by the small ember of something in your spine at his serious tone, you placed a hand on his and smiled up at him. “This is Jack, he’s a fan of Corroded Coffin’s.”

Eddie’s expression completely transformed, a wide smile overtaking the sharp look in his eyes. “Oh man, thanks! Sorry, you know how these bars can get.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, brightening, “totally! Are you guys going to be playing somewhere else soon? I heard a few people say you might be going to Sold Out in Indianapolis!”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck and you could tell he was flustered by the pink tinge to his neck. “We are! We’re going to be there for a few weekends for the next couple months. We start sometime in the summer. Still ironing out a few details.”

“That’s great! I’m sorry for asking but, do you mind signing something for me?” Jack asked, excitement growing his eyes.

Both of you thrown, you felt your own giddiness build in your chest. “He’d love to,” you answered for a stunned Eddie. “In fact, the entire band is here tonight. You’ll have to excuse everyone else – we’re the designated drivers. They might be a little drunk.”

At the promise of more autographs, Jack straightened. “Holy shit, yeah that’d be amazing. Thank you so much,” he stammered, grabbing a clear napkin from behind the bar and pulling a pen from his coat. “My friends are going to shit themselves.”

You squeezed Eddie’s hand when you saw it trembling as he signed with a flourish. Shooting you a grateful look, he walked Jack over to where Jeff and Gareth were chanting chug, chug, chug! at a teetering Liam.

Jesus, you sighed, rolling your eyes when Jeff’s excited hand swatted too close to Liam and he started coughing up the beer.

Turning back to your drink, you didn’t wait long before you felt Eddie’s palm at your lower back. “Well, that happened.”

Not missing a beat, you turned with a crumpled napkin and wide eyes. “Oh my God, sir, would you autograph my napkin too?”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head, and he shoved your shoulder. “Shut up,” he grumbled, motioning to the bartender for his own club soda. “You brat.”

Grinning, you bumped his shoulder with your own. “I’m glad I’ll be able to say I knew you when you were a nerdy freshman.”

“I’m still that nerdy freshman,” he huffed, “people just actually like my singing now.”

The band on stage switched to a fast paced song and the bar emptied a little as people flew to the dance floor. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. They really deserved this. You crossed your fingers beneath the bar and hoped it was just the beginning.

“To be fair, I always liked your singing,” you told him, poking his chest. Eddie’s eyes shifted and you felt the same tightening again.

His eyes dropped back to yours, something new swimming in them, and your breath stuttered in your lungs. “I know you have,” he said, gaze darting across your face. “You’ve always been there for me.”

Not able to take the pressure in your sternum, you huffed. “And don’t forget that when you’re rich and famous, okay? I want a fancy BMW so I can taunt Steve with it.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. Instead of breaking the spell, your eyes drifted to his neck and you briefly thought about how appealing the muscles there were. Straightening so quickly that your spine audible snapped, you swallowed nervously.

What the fuck was that?

The look Eddie shot your way let you know that he’d caught whatever that was. Your mind raced in a thousand different directions but before you could choose a route to go down, a body pressed itself into your side.

“You guys, Jonathan puked,” Gareth said, matter of fact. “It was funny but then Steve started gagging.”

Liam joined in next, his eyes glazed. “Steve said he’s a sy-symp- sympat-” his face scrunched together when he realized he wasn’t getting the word out.

“He’s a sympathy puker?” You guessed, already knowing Steve wasn’t the best around puke. He was always the first domino to fall during hangover mornings.

“Ugh, you’re so smart,” Jeff complimented.

Brows rising, you elbowed Eddie. “Time to corral?” Sighing, Eddie nodded.

“Grab as many as you can and shove them into the right car,” he said, hands coming out to grab his bandmates before they could drift off. “Meet outside in ten?”

“Minutes?” You asked incredulously. “It’s going to take at least that long to get Steve to stop gagging.”

“Bet you five I can get them out in fifteen.”

Rolling your eyes, you slapped his outstretched hand. “That’s an easy win.”

And sure enough, you leaned against Steve’s car with an amused expression as Eddie tried for the fourth time to load Jeff into his van. You glanced at Robin, who was talking animatedly with Gareth about what sounded like cheese fries. A blur in the corner of your eye caught your attention and you watched Liam open the passenger door and pass Jonathan his joint.

“Jesus,” Eddie groaned, “okay you win, please, just-” he waved his hand towards your friends.

“Robin get in the car we have to go now,” you said firmly, knowing she was the hardest to convince but the one everyone would follow once she was.

Her expression morphed into indignation. “Gareth thinks bacon on fries is better than cheese! That’s – that’s treason.”

“Because it is better!” He said, clutching his head.

“Alright you two, you’re both right, how about that?” You turned to Gareth and glared until he simpered off towards Eddie without a backwards glance. “And you, into the car.”

“But-”

“I’ll tell everyone what you’re hiding in the box at the back of your closet,” you threatened. She paled and tripped in her hurry to the car. She knocked into a sleeping Nancy, who grunted when she landed in the middle seat with a loud thump.

“Byers, get your ass in gear or I’m telling Joyce!”

A sheepish Jonathan crawled into the car, jostling Robin who cried out and accidentally smacked a snoring Steve in the passenger seat. You quickly shut the door and locked them in. With a flourish, you took your bow and Eddie clapped. “I admit defeat o’great knight.”

“Knight in shining armor, please,” you clarified.

“Of course, of course.”

“You okay with your lot?” You asked, nodding to where Liam was starting to look a little green.

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, they’ll be fine. What about you?”

“Jonathan and Nancy live nearby, the rest of us are crashing at Steve’s. Like the good ol’ days,” you joked, shivering when a sudden cold gust of air blew your hair into your eyes.

A pair of hands came up to your arms, rubbing some warmth into them and you smiled. “Lucky, Gareth and Liam live in completely different directions,” he said with a roll of his eyes. You pointed to car behind him.

“You should lock them in before one makes a break for it,” you said, yawning and checking the time. Without giving you time to think, Eddie pulled you into a tight hug. Never needing a reason, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed just as tightly back. His cold nose nudged your temple, inhaling deeply and you lean your face against his chest. His heartbeat fast and yours quickly matched its pace. With a soft sigh, Eddie let you go.

“Hey, but seriously, I’m so happy everyone else is finally seeing what I always did,” you told him, pinching one of his cheeks for levity.

Instead, he smiled at you softly. A small, little shy smile that made your heart flip. “Yeah?” His eyes softened, the brown deepening with his gaze. You felt your chest tighten painfully this time. Turning back to hop into your car, you rolled the window down and Eddie leaned into your space.

“Don’t let it get to your big head.” Eddie smiled at your barb but his eyes trailed down your face, the look in his gaze different. You leaned back to examine it but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “What?” His eyes darted back up to yours and it clicked. It looked like he knew something you didn’t.

A little surprised at what he saw there, he shook his head. “Nothing, nothing, see you tomorrow at work?” That sounded like a diversion. You had a full shift tomorrow but he was on towards the end at closing.

“Yeah,” you said, not sure you wanted to let go of this. As if sensing it, he surged forward to press a kiss to your cheek and you blinked, surprised.

“Drive home safe, call me when you get there, okay?” He said. “Leave a message if I’m not home yet. I won’t be able to sleep if I think you’re dead in a ditch somewhere.”

That, in the end, got a smile out of you. “Who would’ve thought you and Harrington would turn into the mothers of this ragtag group?”

“Hey,” he said, hands on his hips in a clear imitation of Steve, “you love it.”

“Yeah,” you said, starting your car and rolling up your window, “I do!”

5. Bringing you something just because it reminded them of you.

“Fuuuck,” you squawked, feet sliding out from under you. Bracing for the impact, your eyes flew open when Eddie’s hands slide through your underarms and steadied you. He pulled you up, your knees aching, and you both stilled.

“That…would’ve been bad,” you said quietly, looking down at the wet pavement outside the Wheeler’s house. Eddie’s eyes were wide, his gaze on the puddles.

“Note to self, slippery driveways might take down the mighty Nova but demobats are a walk in the park,” Eddie said, grinning when you whacked him.

“Ugh, they’re still outside,” Dustin shouted from the doorway, “come on, we’re taking a vote on which movie to watch first.”

Despite his teasing, you felt Eddie’s hand on your back – steady – as you followed Dustin towards the basement. Everyone was scattered, a few conversations going on at once. The party was back for the summer from college and, as tradition stated, a movie night was set on the first weekend.

El jumped up, grinning, and threw her arms around you. “Oh, hello,” you said, squeezing her tightly, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you,” she said into your shoulder, words muffled. You glanced up to see Max tucked into Eddie’s embrace. He smiled when they swapped and Max’s grip bruised you. Kissing her temple, you watched them tumble back onto the first couch – Mike and Lucas waving at you both.

You made to step towards a beaming Will when a hand on your elbow stopped you. “Hey, I forgot to give this to you yesterday at work,” Eddie said, hand ruffling around in bag. He grinned after a moment, pulling it out triumphantly. A small drawstring bag swung wildly for a moment before coming to a stop. The black suede looked soft and lumpy.

“We just started that gig out at Sold Out last week and we were looking for something to eat before we drove back. I saw this in the window of a store and thought of you,” Eddie said, making your heart flip. You reached for the bag, a gold necklace spilling out the mouth.

“It’s a sunflower,” you said, voice faint, thumb tracing the small blooming flower.

Eddie nodded, already rooting in his bag for something else. “You said that was Barb’s favorite flower, right?” Suddenly, it felt like the entire room had gone quiet.

“It was,” Nancy said, leaning over your shoulder to look at the pendant. “She loved them, her room was covered.” An old memory flashed through your mind.

You’d met Barb when you were six, in kindergarten. She’d shared her chocolate with you and picked you as a partner for nap time. She had a sweet smile and gave great hugs. She was good and kind, and you’d been angry at the world for taking her. For a lot of things.

“Sunflowers symbolize friendship. But really, they just make me smile.”

For a moment, just a brief second, you could hear her light laughter echo within your memory. Nancy’s soft smile let you know that you weren’t alone.

“I thought you’d like it,” he said with a smile and you knew he was thinking of the tulips you’d both left at Chrissy’s grave last week. “This way you can have her close by.”

Nancy helped you clasp it around your neck and smiled down at you. Sound filtered back in as she grunted and turned to the boys. “Don’t throw the remote!”

You scrambled to stand before Eddie could find a seat, your had grabbing his. He stilled, looking back at you – the unasked question on his lips. Taking a step forward for a hug, for a second time within a span of five minutes, you tripped on a forgotten figurine. Eddie cradled you to him, staggered, but steady.

“Okay, I stand corrected. Rainy driveways and dnd figurines,” he joked, the smile from his gaze fading when he realized how close you’d landed.

The world moved around you both in a blur. This moment, you in his arms, had happened hundreds of times. You’d known Eddie for years, both of you were affectionate people. But this…was different. Time slowed and you felt Eddie’s pulse ricochet within your own, his lips parting in surprise. You eyes darted down to the movement, his lips chapped and in this bubble you’d created – a thought crossed your mind.

You wanted to press yours to his. You wanted to press every part of you against his.

Then, quickly, a second thought rose from your subconscious.

This wasn’t the first time you’d wanted to kiss him. It wasn’t the first time that your heart felt like it would burst at the sight of him. You liked the way your skin felt electrified at his touch. The way he always seemed to focus on you. The way you both always gravitated towards each other, like sunflowers bending towards the sun. Your eyes dipped lower and you felt a lump form in your throat. The way…you were dying to bite into that tattoo on his neck. The way you wondered if he’d squirm against you. If he’d push you into the-

Holy fucking shit, you loved Eddie. You were in love with Eddie. Your best friend. How the fuck had you been so blind?

Stumbling, you staggered back from his touch – not able to think clearly with him so close. You ripped your arms away from him and greedily sucked in air.

“What’s wrong?” Eleven asked you, realizing you were all but hyperventilating.

Pulse roaring in your ears, you didn’t know what to say. Dumbstruck, your limbs went numb as you finally met Eddie’s worried eyes. He stilled at the sight of your expression and suddenly the rug was pulled completely out from under you because he knew. The look in his eyes was one of complete and total understanding.

And you knew that he knew - and he knew that you knew that he knew.

Your mind flashed back to the moment outside the bar a few months ago. That look in his eyes. The way he’d been acting strange recently. He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. Struck, you’d honestly be less shocked if the ground opened up and Vecna swallowed you whole.

His own panic flooding his face, he took a step forward.

“No!” You shouted, a touch too loud, your soul flying out your body and staring down at the situation with terror.

“Wait, just wait,” Eddie stammered, hands raised like he was approaching a scared animal. “Let’s talk about it.”

“Oh shit,” you heard Dustin mutter. The rest of room went silent.

Robin groaned, a soft thump following. “Oh no, this isn’t good.”

“Right now?” Steve hissed. “What the hell changed?”

“What the hell is happening?” Lucas grumbled.

Max sighed. “She just realized she’s in love with him.”

Eleven’s eyes widened and Lucas frowned. “Congratulations on being the last one to find out,” he said and somehow that made it worse. Your face crumpled and everyone’s glare turned towards him.

“Jesus Sinclair, have you heard of tact?”

Were you the absolute last person to know?

He was your best friend – you couldn’t, this would ruin everything. Oh God, what if he’d known and he never said anything because he didn’t feel the same? What if he did? You honestly didn’t know which was scarier.

As your friends descended into chaos, you glanced back at Eddie and found him frozen too. Overwhelmed and feeling like you’d been knocked around the ring a few times, you let your flight instinct take over. Taking the stairs two at a time, you were at the basement door in seconds.

Chaos erupted behind you.

You were at the door and fucking Christ, you couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t you breathe? Was the ground shaking?

“Stay here,” you heard Eddie bark at everyone, his had tone not leaving any room for argument. Despite it all, you felt the zing of something travel down your spine at the sound of it. Before you could even analyze it for what it was, it triggered another fresh wave of panic.

You knew he’d be close behind, but you were used to running for your life at this point. Practically racing down the driveway, you scrambled into your car and slammed the door shut. Your first mistake was trying to still your shaking hand to get it into the ignition.

A body half-slammed into your passenger door and you screamed, terror taking over your rational side for a moment.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! The fucking grass is wet and I slipped,” Eddie said, backing up with his palms up. “Nova, please, don’t go. Not like this. I-”

“Nope!” You said, feeling like a stupid child but you weren’t able to process right now. You’d known Eddie since you were fourteen. That was a decade. How the fuck had you been so blind? “I can’t – Eddie, I can’t! Just give me a second, okay? I need – I need to process. Alone.”

The world felt like it was crumbling. Like you were back in the hell hole, clinging to Steve and Eddie for balance as the ground shook beneath you. Oh God, this was going change everything.

Your second mistake was turning to look at him. The knot in your chest tightened beyond belief at the sight of the heartbreak in his eyes. A flash of movement brought your attention to the several heads peeking out from the windows. Eddie’s head whipped around and you could feel his glare from where you sat. “Jesus Christ, does anyone know what privacy means?” You knew it was bad when you couldn’t even muster up a smile.

“Nov…”

Like a cornered animal, you felt tears well up. “Please. I’m sorry. Please Eddie, please.” Panic clawed up your throat, threatening to pull you under. Black dots danced across your vision.

He smiled and your heart broke at the emptiness in it. “Yeah, Nov, it’s okay. I’ll go back inside, just- take a few deep breaths before you go. Okay? Don’t drive like this. Just, deep breathing, remember?”

You slammed your eyes shut; you didn’t have the strength to look at him anymore. You nodded, taking an unsteady deep inhale. How was it possible that you were the one running and he was still thinking of you?

Not sure how long you sat there but by the time you opened your eyes, your tremor had settled and Eddie was gone. Taking a deep breath, you turned your car on and peeled away from the Wheeler house.

It took Robin and Steve exactly ten hours before they showed up on your doorstep.

“I know you’re in there asshole, open up!” Robin screamed.

Jesus. You flung the door open and glared. “I have neighbors.”

“You look like shit,” Robin said, matter a fact, with a small smile on her face. You groaned, dropping your face into your palms and Steve sighed.

“For fuck’s sake Robin, it hasn’t even been a day,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the couch.

Not one to ever be excluded, Robin smushed herself next to you. Her thigh pressed against yours and you found yourself stuck between your two friends – friends you hadn’t ever been good at lying to.

“I know why you’re here,” you started.

Robin snorted. “Well duh, what’d you think? That we got up at nine in the morning to come wish you a good morning? Even Dingus knows better than that.”

Biting back a laugh at her quick retort, you caught Steve’s exasperated glance and nearly broke. “Do not enable the behavior,” he hissed. “How do you feel?”

What a loaded question.

“I feel a little numb. Sort of, like, if I don’t acknowledge this is happening then it isn’t,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, “which, I guess, is what got us both into this mess in the first place.”

Robin’s expression softened and you sighed. “I’m just…I feel embarrassed mostly. I didn’t mean to be so dramatic – I just…I was so overwhelmed and it felt like I was drowning. You were all staring at us and I couldn’t think – I couldn’t breathe.”

“Hey, give yourself some credit,” Robin said, “you needed space and time and you asked for it. Everyone needs to understand that boundary.”

“Except for you two,” you joked weakly.

Robin huffed, waving a hand in the air. “We don’t have boundaries-”

“-we should though-” Steve muttered.

“-once you’re tortured by Russians together, you’re bonded for life,” Robin continued, ignoring Steve’s scrunched expression.

They started to bicker good-naturedly and your mind drifted to Eddie. You felt horrible but it didn’t override your need to crawl under the covers and hide yourself from the world. The one question on your mind refused to be put to rest.

“How could I have been so blind?” You wondered, not realizing you’d said it out loud until Robin leaned some of her weight onto you.

Steve pulled himself closed to the edge so he could turn to look at you. His gaze was gentle, eyes on you. “I mean this genuinely with no judgement, but how could you not have noticed?”

You threw your hands out, Robin dodging your left one expertly. “I don’t know! I think I knew on some level and just ignored it? Its…scary, feelings this big for someone who’s your best friend. I’m so scared, I don’t want to lose him,” you admitted quietly. Steve sighed and you glanced at him. “When did you guys know?”

Steve frowned but Robin spoke first. “To be fair, I don’t think Eddie knew right away either. At least not that I could see and we’ve known each other for a while now too. I realized sophomore year,” she said. “You always had those damn starbursts around. I know your favorites are the red ones because Dustin tried to take one from your stash and you almost chewed his hand off.”

A pile of starbursts were tossed onto your kitchen counter now. “So?” You asked, confused at the connection.

“They’re Eddie’s favorites too and you always let him grab them. I don’t think he even knows you do that, to this day. Let’s not forget how any time either of you ever went on a date or, God forbid, had a relationship, the other was always in a constant mood.”

Before that could sink in, Steve stirred. “I realized when he’d come to visit you at Scoops. Remember when I’d smushed that sundae into you. We were waiting on Robin to come back, worried about the Russians and you’d insisted on staying to help us. You had finally decided I was worthy and we were laughing about something stupid Dustin had said.”

You knew what moment he was talking about – you’d forgotten to call Eddie and tell him you didn’t need a ride home anymore. He’d arrived, on time as always, and walked in on you and Steve wrestling over some spilled ice cream.

“I turned with your ice cream too fast and hit your chin. I was trying to clean it off but you’d taken a handful and shoved it down my uniform. Dustin was practically on the floor laughing and I was chasing you with the bowl. Eddie walked in and instantly hated me. I knew he thought I was flirting with you, which I wasn’t. It was something in the way he looked at me. He wasn’t mad that he thought I liked you, he was mad because he thought I wasn’t worth your time – you know? He wasn’t even jealous, just protective,” he said with a shrug. “With you, it took a while, I think. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same for some time. Not until I knew you better.”

“Oh,” you said, throat dry. “Did everyone know but me?”

Steve bumped your shoulder amicably. “Maybe. It’s obvious to everyone now but it’s because it’s like you’re two magnets. The second the other is in the vicinity, your gravitate together. It’s…natural, almost. Something you’d expect,” he nodded, blinking down at you. “Does that make sense?”

“No,” you said petulantly at the same time Robin nodded.

Rolling her eyes, she grasped your hands and squeezed them. It was reminiscent of that moment in the emergency room, her eyes wide but determined.

“What do you want to do about it?”

You shook your head. “Too big a question.”

Steve took over. “Okay…how do you feel? You can love him as your friend, or be in love with him as a person, but if you don’t want to risk that – it’s up to you. We can have our own opinions-”

“-that you two need to get your heads out of your asses-” Robin said, expression furrowing.

“-but,” he said, shooting her a look, “it’s your choice.”

Feeling like your chest would explode with it, you abruptly stood, needing the space to pace a hole in your carpet. Chewing on your nail, you flung another hand in the air and frowned. “Of course I love him, how could I not? He’s…he’s Eddie. He’s my Eddie. Sometimes, at night, before going to bed I think about it you know. I think about how we were too close to be just best friends. We did things that went far past platonic and it was addicting. I – fuck. I love him. I love him.”

Shoving Steve’s hand off her shoulder, Robin stood, her arms coming down to your shoulders and shaking you. “So, I ask again, what do you want to do about it?”

You started to shake your head but she shut it down. “No, enough with this. You’re the bravest of us all. What do you want to do about it?”

“Robin-”

She waved a hand in Steve’s direction, her blue eyes turning sharp. “Say it.”

The knot in your chest choked you as you swallowed nervously. You wrung your hands together but you knew. You didn’t feel unsettled and panicked because you didn’t want him – you felt off kilter because he wasn’t here. You’d run away when you really wanted to just be with him. You’d hurt the one person you never wanted to hurt.

“I want – I want to tell him. I need to tell him!” You said, spine straightening.

Robin smiled. “There she is.”

“Oh my God,” you said, hands coming up to your face. “I just ran away; he must be freaking out.”

Steve stood, grabbing a yellow starburst. “He was a little…freaked out.”

Guilt flooded you as Robin glared at him.

“Shit, I need to talk to him. Right now. Where’re my shoes? I need to go!” You ran around your living room, frantically looking for your converse.

How the fuck could you have just left him behind? Without telling him – without saying the words. Suddenly, you remembered.

“Fuck! He’s in Indianapolis,” you said, slumping into a nearby chair, “he won’t be back until Sunday night.”

Steve frowned, his hands inching towards a red starburst and you shot him a glare.

“I’m distressed but not dead, get your hands off the red ones,” you snapped.

Robin laughed, knowing glint in her eyes and she grabbed a set of keys from your front table. “You have a fucking car and Indianapolis is three hours away, not across the country. Get what you need and let’s go.”

“Get off, you’re squishing me!” Max hissed at Lucas.

“Where do you want me to go? It’s a small car!”

“Will you two shut up?” Dustin snapped.

Robin sighed from the passenger seat and you took the same left as Steve did ahead of you. “You know, I don’t know why you all thought it’d be fun to make this into a group road trip,” she sighed, “you really don’t know how to mind your business!”

You snorted at the hypocrisy of the situation and she shot you a look. Shutting up, you made sure to stay behind the maroon BMW.

“We can’t miss this,” Dustin stressed, “he’s been in love with her for the entire time I’ve known him. I can’t deal with all the pining anymore. I get to see this through!”

You glared at him through the mirror. “We are not a soap opera to entertain yourself with,” you snapped.

By the time you’d made it out to your car, the rest of the party had managed to bike to your apartment with their own nosy agendas. Once they’d found out you were going to drive down to Eddie’s gig, they climbed into your cars – not leaving room for arguing. Because God forbid any of you do something without the entire party knowing.

“You probably won’t even be let in, this is a twenty one or older bar. As in, where they serve alcohol.”

“So?”

Robin shifted around to glare at them. “As in, you’re all not twenty-one yet?”

“Robin, please, what do you take us for? Rookies?” Dustin asked, his brow quirking. “I’m basically Corroded Coffin’s manager-”

“-you’re really not,” you said, thinking of Charlie, Gareth’s cousin who handled all the gigs and scheduling.

“-and I’ve got passes to all their gigs, it’ll be easy.”

Sharing a look with Robin, she shrugged. “Whatever, don’t whine about it to me when you’ve got to stay in the car the whole time.”

Not twenty minutes later, you both rolled your eyes at Dustin’s smug look as the bouncer let them all through with bright green bands indicating they couldn’t be served alcohol.

“Shut up,” Robin hissed.

“What time is it?” You asked, grabbing Steve’s wrist. “Shit, they go on soon – I think I can still catch them backstage.”

“Go, go!” Robin urged, shoving you forward.

Shouldering your way through the crowd, you were astounded at how packed the bar was. Determined, you kept slipping through the restless horde of people. You’d gotten halfway through when a loud strum stopped you. The crowd came alive, cheering and screaming as Eddie sauntered on stage.

Your heart dropped at the sight of the bags under his eyes. “Hello Indianapolis! How are you all tonight?”

The crowd went wild and you were jostled forward, right towards the front. Eddie was a few feet away and you sighed. Of course.

The band went through with introducing themselves, like they always did before starting, and you resigned yourself to catching him after their set. You watched Eddie swing his guitar over his shoulder, adjusting the strap. You don’t know how, in the sheer amount of people in the crowd, but as his eyes swept across the front row – they zeroed in on you.

Surprised, you blinked up at him. His answering grin was so wide, it cracked your heart further. Your breath rushed right out your lungs. Frozen, you stared up at him, and wondered how you could have ever been so blind as to not notice the way your heart always leapt around him. It rattled around in your ribcage, like a police siren. Him, we want him, it shouted at you, grinning up at you when you tried to knock it back into place.

I know, I know we do, you told it.

Of course you loved him, it was Eddie. How could you ever have thought otherwise? You wanted his friendship, because that was the most important part, but you wanted more. You’d always wanted more and you weren’t going to let fear keep you from reaching for it.

Eyes not leaving yours, he grabbed the mic again. “So, I have someone important in the audience today – someone who means a lot to me. She hasn’t heard our newest cover yet but, it’s one of her favorite songs. I’ll admit, it’s never been one of mine but I changed it around a little for her and hope you all like it too.”

Raising your brows at the first few notes, you couldn’t keep your delirious laugh in when you heard him start singing.

“Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?

Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth.”

Eddie’s voice lowered as he rasped out the vowels, the drums transforming the song entirely.

You watched Eddie transform, he always put his entire being into the performance and you loved watching him relish in it. Bobbing your head to the song, you danced alongside the three girls to your left.

Catching his eyes towards the end, he grinned as he inhaled.

“In this world, we're just beginnin'

To understand the miracle of livin'

Baby, I was afraid before

But I'm not afraid anymore.”

A smile made it’s way onto your face as you shook your head and you knew he’d caught it by his laugh. Staying right in the middle, with the crowd’s energy pulsing around you, you sat through the entire set.

As Metallica rung through the speakers, you knew it was their closing song. Eddie nodded towards the side door and you started to make your way there.

The guard at the door stood at your approach but the door behind him opened in time for you to catch Charlie’s smile. “She’s good,” she told him, “whenever you see her around this summer, let her through. She’s with Munson.”

The burly guard smiled then. “Oh, you’re his girl? Don’t worry, I never forget a face.” He waved you through and you knew she could read the mild embarrassment in your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t pry,” she said, elbowing you, “but I’m happy for you two. Anyone with eyes can tell you’re gone on each other.”

Right.

“I’ve got to help them pack but you’ve been to the green room in the back – he’ll come by when they’re done.”

Thanking her, you stumbled your way there – nerves finally taking over you. You should’ve thought about what to say – how to say it. God, why did you feel so awkward? You’d fought monsters from another dimension but you couldn’t tell your best friend that you loved him?

The door suddenly burst open and Eddie came in, guitar still in hand and hair stuck to his skin. “Hey you,” you said, standing from the velvet couch. “You were amazing.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said hopefully, putting the familiar guitar down and turning his full attention to you. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

“There was a full house, I – I’m so happy for you guys. Are you booked full for tomorrow night too?” You asked despite knowing the answer. You needed a moment, just a brief moment of normalcy before you flung yourself off the metaphorical cliff.

Eddie nodded, a ghost of a smile flashing across his face. He knew. He knew that you knew that he knew. Because of course he did. But he was letting you take this at your pace, because Eddie never did anything you didn’t want to. He always let you lead.

He opened his mouth, no doubt ready to let you distract yourself, but you were done with the pretenses.

“Fuck it,” you said, surging forward. A flash of surprise was the last thing you saw before you slammed Eddie into the wall and pressed your lips to his.

Finally! Your heart sang, finally, we’re home.

Eddie took a second but after a beat he met you just as fiercely. His grip was bruising on your waist, his other hand coming up to the back of your neck. Not giving him a chance to take the lead from you, you ran your fingers through his hair and pulled his head back. He moaned and the sound shot straight to your stomach. Butterflies in full force, you leaned back, out of breath and saw the dazed look in his eyes.

“Nova,” he begged, unseeing eyes darting around your face. “Nova.”

“I know,” you said, right before you dove back in and pressed open mouth kisses to his neck. And then, after all these years, you finally sunk your teeth into the meaty part of his neck. Right at the base of the skull tattoo. Eddie jerked, as if electrocuted, and shoved you back. Stumbling, you let him cradle your jaw, the other lowering you onto the couch.

Needing more, you whimpered and Eddie grinned. His knee pushed up between your legs and the pressure was amazing. Your hips stuttered, bumping into his and you both hissed. His teeth worried the sensitive skin of your neck and you whined as he lapped at the bruise he left.

“Eddie,” you gasped, “Eddie, please.”

His forehead came down to your shoulder, his chest heaving like he’d run a marathon, and you both just breathed the other in. At your nudging, he dropped his weight onto you and you jerked at the hardness you felt by your hip.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding at all sorry. “The amount of adrenaline going through me right now-”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, hand drifting down his side but Eddie caught it. “I can help,” you offered. Jesus, you wanted to help if the pressure between your legs was any indication. Eddie’s face softened, his eyes drifting down your face and he groaned.

“I want that too but, maybe we should talk first? Before going past the no return point?”

You blinked. “Munson, I’m past the no return point,” you said, matter of fact. And it was true. There was no going back now.

His answering smile blinded you and you heart threatened to burst at the happiness you found there. “Yeah?” He asked, tone a little uneven.

You nodded, fingers trailing down his face. Eddie lifted himself off you, sitting on the couch and pulling you into his lap. “Yeah, me too.”

“When did you realize? And why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, ripping the band aid off.

“Because I was scared,” he admitted, “I...think I’ve always loved you. From that moment in the hallway when you chased away Tommy and his gang of assholes. You took one look at me and I think I was yours. I didn’t want to ruin what we had but there were times where I’d catch us in moments and I thought yeah, this could work. I wanted it so badly but I didn’t want to lose you. Then, years later, I realized you felt it too. I just, wanted you to get there on your own. I never wanted you to feel like you had no choice or no out. You’ll always have me, in any form you want me.”

Your heart melted. “You’re killing me,” you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder.

Eddie laughed, his chest rumbling with it. “I’m sorry but, it’s the truth.”

“I know I’ve said it before but, I love you Eddie. How could I not?” You said, cradling his jaw in your hand.

Eddie pressed his lips to yours, eyes suspiciously red, and you decided to be mature enough and not tease him.

“Hey, you didn’t answer the first question. When did you really realize?”

“To be fair, it took me a while. Everyone knew I hated Mason,” he said and you thought back to your first boyfriend who’d moved to Texas your junior year, “which made the guys tease the shit out of me but I think I fully realized it for our senior prom. I was so bummed that you were going off to college and I was stuck in Hawkins. Then, you managed to blackmail Higgins into letting me go-”

“I didn’t blackmail him, I just asked,” you laughed.

“-I knew you knew I was upset and I could tell you wanted to cheer me up. But then you did that stupid promposal-”

“Hey!”

“And you had that big bouquet of daisies. And it hit me like a fucking truck, I’m not going to lie. That’s why – I don’t blame you. It was a lot,” he said, his fingers trailing down your cheek. “We’d been friends for years at that point. It was both shocking and stupidly obvious. How could I not have realized? It took you, standing in that meadow behind my old trailer, that massive glitter poster and those flowers. It was like…lightning. One moment I was totally oblivious and then the next, I just knew.”

“Is that why you never dated anyone after that? I thought you were hung up on Joan,” you said, thinking back on the girl he dated through high school.

He smiled, looking down at you. “No, I’ve always been yours. You’re branded on my soul, Supernova. From that first moment in that old gross hallway.”

“How did you know that I felt the same? I didn’t even know.”

Your heart sung, breath completely stolen at the look he gave you. “I mean, I didn’t know-” You leaned back to shoot him a look and he snorted. “There wasn’t an exact moment! After you went to Indie State and we’d hang out there were just small moments, I promise. Like, how you��d wait up for my call when I got home after visiting you. Or, how you stayed up all night to help me study for my finals – like two years in a row. Or that time that I caught the flu and you hit every pharmacy in Indiana getting me what I needed. Or the way Wayne just downright loves you – there’s no competition. You’re his favorite.”

“Because I bring him baked goods,” you said, laughing.

Eddie smiled. “Yeah, but he’s always loved you because you care. You just – you do all these little things and I didn’t notice until I did. I don’t know.”

You mulled that over and realized he was right. The way Eddie would steer you away from sharp corners, or always made sure you walked on the opposite side of the curb. How he always knew your order or how you liked you take your coffee. You flashed back to his broken body and how you’d snapped and lost it. How he’d only thought of making sure you were okay when he woke up.

In hindsight, you realized, he was right. It wasn’t one big moment. It was a lot of little ones.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get there,” you whispered, thumb tracing his bottom lip, “I’m sorry for leaving you at the Wheeler’s house. I should’ve been braver.”

“You are brave,” he whispered back, “I knew you just needed time. Besides, I was going to give you a week before I hunted you down.”

Laughing, you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, the other played with his necklace. “Yeah?” You felt suddenly shy.

“Yeah. Even if I was wrong and you didn’t feel the same way,” he shrugged, “I wasn’t scared enough to let you go. Romantic or platonic, Nova, we’re for life. Between Vecna and surviving ninth grade gym class together, we’re practically trauma bonded at this point.”

You laughed realizing you’d already had a lifetime of experiences with him. Eyes trailing down his content expression, you kissed the corner of his mouth. But a lifetime wasn’t enough. You wanted more. And you’d have more – you had all the time in the world.

“Yeah, Munson, we’re for life,” you agreed and leaned back down to kiss him.

Because hey, even he was right sometimes.

A/N: thank you all so much for the comments on my other fic, you cannot imagine what it means to me! This is the cover I was thinking of if anyone's interested.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson

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tired-biscuit · 2 years ago

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forcing naruto to jerk off in front of you while you watch in lust😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

oh. my. god. yes yes yes, AHHHHH!! it's all under the cut, i loved thinking about this!! <3

cw: voyeurism // 18+ mdni, fem!reader

imagine him sitting on the couch of your living room; manspreading. strong legs splayed wide apart, his pants pooling at his ankles along with his vividly bright underwear. his white t-shirt is pushed up to the collar, giving you a clear view of his toned stomach and making your gaze linger. the muscles tighten whenever he flexes his abs. you know that he does it on purpose.

he's always been fond of trying to impress you, after all. even after pinning you down.

and to be honest, it works. his efforts prove to be effective, because the tan skin - that he makes sure is visible for your personal enjoyment - now glows with the golden hour, drawing you right in. as if the sun itself has followed after your footsteps and fallen in love with him, warm rays splash all over his burly body as they seep through the window to his left - their heat making him sweat even more as his hand continues running up and down the entire length of his leaking cock. a thing he rarely executes alone anymore, just so you're happy.

and you are happy about it, of course you are - it's a marvelous sight to look at. he's just so pretty whilst vulnerable like this. so alluring. it's taking everything in your power to not sit on his fat dick and ride it into the fucking sunset.

but instead of doing that, you collect yourself and smile as you continue to watch him palm himself. this cunningly wretched grin that should belong to a feline rather than a sweet girl such as yourself. well, not really.

because you aren't as sweet as you seem, are you? if you actually were, you wouldn't be sitting across from him the way you do now; leaning back on the sturdy coffee table in nothing but a short skirt that he knows isn't hiding anything underneath, because you've made a point to prove it to him by lifting it and spreading your legs for a couple of seconds, making him gape. if you were sweet, you wouldn't be nearly purring as you make him fuck his fist in front of you, watching him smear a mixture of his saliva and lube everywhere; turning it messy with fucking vigour just because this sort of thing makes your pussy wet.

and speaking of messy, his rhythm has become rather quick-paced and uneven now; replacing the languid strokes he had indulged you in presenting earlier.

it doesn't surprise either of you. after nearly thirty minutes of torturing him like this - constantly edging him and never letting him reach his finish - his desire to cum has become so profound that it makes him glare as he clenches his jaw and bares his straight, pearly-white teeth like the dirty dog you make him be just to appease your twisted wishes.

your eyes are nearly glued to his dick. the tip has turned into an angry shade of red by now, leaking pre-cum that makes his skin glisten along with the lube. he's throbbing; the veins protruding, surely noticeable to the touch whilst he strokes and strokes and strokes.

"hey... show it to me," he says at one point, tone so agitated and laced with longing that it yanks you right out of your little daydream.

"hmm?" you blink, but your eyes remain glazed over with a thick coat of lust. christ, that steady pat, pat, pat of his fist touching his abdomen sounds like music to your ears. "what did you say, naru?"

he pouts at your dazed expression. pouts. "i s-said if-... fuck, i said if you could show me that pretty cunt of yours, sweetheart... lemme see how drenched you are 'cause of me, will ya? please." let me cum already, for fuck's sake.

you smile at how breathy his voice has become, eyes glimmering with playful mischief. god, you love it whenever you push his buttons like this. love it whenever you drive him so far up the wall that it provokes the sunshine in him and turns him just a little bit mean. that it makes him spit the flithiest of words, and makes him get this wild look in his eye that could borderline make you cum just with one glance alone.

so it's no wonder why you cross your legs extra cautiously, then. why you pretend to ponder whilst making sure your skirt is nice and secure; letting him catch only a mere hint of your naked thigh and nothing else as you say,

"not unless you go slower, handsome."

#naruto x reader #naruto smut #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto uzumaki smut #biscuit drabbles #cw voyeurism

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let-me-fill-you · 8 months ago

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here's a little scenario for you~

my long-term asshole boyfriend knocks my tboy pussy up. of course, he skips town to avoid the responsibilities of being a parent

you're a good friend of mine, and you help me through all the ups and downs of pregnancy. im having triplets, and on my short frame, i start growing waaaay earlier than expected

in my sixth trimester, when km already as big as a house, you manage to track down my baby daddy, drag him back to my place, and encourage me to swallow him whole. hes only good as nourishment for my babies, if he's not going to provide money

he's so much bigger than me... if i do manage to swallow him down, would you give me belly rubs after? 🥺🥺

It's not a question of if, darling, but how long it will take you to swallow down this good-for-nothing asshole.

The nerve of him to run out on you like that, after knocking you up with triplets for Christ's sake... You were miserable after he left, inconsolable - and you deserve recompense. So I tracked him down, and I dragged him, kicking and screaming, back to you. He needed to see you, see what you had become thanks to his indiscretion. You are massively gravid, and beautiful for it in my humble opinion - and he forsook the chance to be your husband, to be a part of this...

So now, he's going to be a part of you. I shook him down, see, and he isn't exactly liquid, having blown all his funds on starting a new life without you, while you were busy here creating new life... Correction: He will be liquid by the time you're done with him - a thick, nutritious chyme passing through your intestines, feeding you and your babies. It's the least he can do for all the heartache he's given you.

Channel your rage toward him, draw strength from the lonely nights without him, the deep hunger you've felt in his absence, think about how much you love your babies, and he will - in spite of his size - slide down your throat with buttery ease~

And once you're done, once his fate is sealed inside your stomach, of course I will give you belly rubs~ We wouldn't want your heartache to turn into heartburn.

#; preg #; preg pred #; vore #; asks 💕#; mine #; 💕 and do respond with the lovely input you had in dms~

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caesurah-tblr · 2 years ago

Text

EMETOPHOBIA TW!!! TW FOR GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS!!!

Enjoy this little POV of gl!Charlie after the events of the finale of Genloss, and what things might come after.

He opens his eyes.

The feel of the cold flooring of the mall doesn’t mix right with the warm feeling and coppery smell of blood. Fuck.

He’s gonna be sick.

Charlie empties the contents of his stomach, and it mixes with the blood. The smell is too much to bear.

Get up! His mind screams, Get the fuck up! You’ll die here if you don’t!

But it’s so hard. He’s so weak and tired…

Ranboo.

“Ranboo?” Charlie calls out quietly into the darkness, too afraid to attract the attention of the thing that had attacked him earlier. No response.

He lets out a sob of pain as he forces himself to his knees. The pain is almost unbearable, but it’s not as bad as-

There are hands in his guts. There are hands in his guts and they’re pulling out his insides bit by bit. Charlie is screaming, thrashing in his binds as his friend continues to pull him apart. He knows Ranboo isn’t seeing what he’s seeing, but he’s so desperate to get through the control and he’s in so much pain. So he screams. And Ranboo doesn’t listen.

Charlie heaves again, but there’s nothing left but bile that dribbles from between his lips. He’s gotta get up. He’s got to get up and find Ranboo so they can leave like they said they would.

He stumbles to his feet, nearly slipping on the horrible mixture on the floor. The wound isn’t as bad as it looks- it’s thick across his stomach and bleeding sluggishly, but the vest had kept the wound from being fatal.

“Cmon Charlie.” He mutters to himself “Just gotta find Ranboo. Just gotta find him and leave.”

Charlie flinches as he accidentally shoulder-checks a Showfall staff member, but they don’t seem to react. It’s almost like they’re frozen in time.

There’s the bright red of an exit sign that draws his attention. The door is wide open.

Had Ranboo gotten out?

Charlie makes his way towards it, like a moth drawn to flame. Every painful footfall causes the edges of his vision to flash, but he forces his eyes to stay open because he has to leave. He has to get back to-

To-

He doesn’t know. Charlie has no fucking idea what he was doing before this and the thought causes angry tears to well up in his eyes. Where did he come from? Was there anyone waiting for him to come home? Did his parents care? Did he have a girlfriend, or maybe a wife back home? Did she miss him?

“Fuck.” Charlie hisses out between gritted teeth as he leans against the doorframe for support. It’s okay. He’ll learn soon enough. Soon he’ll get to see his parents and get to hug that maybe girlfriend or wife and he’ll finally be free.

What’s supposed to be an exit to the outside is anything but that. The room is covered in wires and tvs, and hung in the middle like some fucked up mockery of Jesus Christ is Ranboo.

There’s a black box covering his head. The amount of blood and viscera on Ranboo’s jacket tells Charlie all he needs to know, but he has to check. For his own sake.

The box gives away after a couple of weak pulls, and the sound of metal leaving flesh will haunt Charlie for the rest of his days. The mask is broken, and hangs in tatters around Ranboo’s face. Or what’s left of it at least.

“Fuck!” Charlie sobs, “No! Fucking hell!”

Through the gore, he can see tear tracks. Ranboo is dead.

“I see you’re still alive.”

The voice makes him whip around. The man in the red hoodie- Hutch, he thinks that’s what Ranboo had called him- stands before him. Alive.

“But- You’re supposed to be fucking dead! We watched you die! Did you do this?!”

Hutch tilts his head, the dim light reflecting off the matte black of his mask making him appear much more sinister. “You know better than anyone here that looks can be deceiving when it comes to Showfall, Charlie. As for who killed Ranboo? Well, it’s Their fault.”

“Their?!” Charlie snaps, “Did They strap him down and put a metal box on his head?! Did They strap me down and force some unwilling participants to root around in my guts? They didn’t do this! You fucking did!”

He steps forward, hand reaching to his side. He had picked up Ranboo’s knife, but then he had been too scared to use it. But now?

Now, he was gonna end it.

“You killed them! All of them! Ranboo, Austin, Niki, Ethan, Sneeg, Vinny… They’re dead and it’s your fucking fault!”

Charlie lunges, knife held high, but before he can get any closer hands grab his arms. He struggles, but the blood loss has weakened him and he can’t keep up the fight.

Hutch hums to himself and taps his chin, pondering. “You’ve always been so feisty… The fact that I’ve allowed you to live this long says a lot about my charitable nature, you know.”

“I don’t want your charitable nature.” Charlie punctuates the sentence with a pull, pulling the two Showfall staff with him. He’s strong, and if he can fight the pain he can end this. “I want you dead.”

“Y’know, we don’t normally do reruns. Audience retention and all that. But for you I might make an exception.”

Hutch leans in close. “The things I’ve seen you do to survive. You don’t remember them, but I do. You think Ranboo’s was bad? I’ve seen you do things to people you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.”

Charlie leans away, shocked from the accusations.

“I’ve never hurt anyone.”

But it comes out weak because he knows it’s a lie. Even if he doesn’t remember it, Charlie knows he played the game like Ranboo, like Sneeg and like all the others. What had he done? Who had he hurt?

“All the blood on your hands says otherwise, Charlie. You were always my favorite, y’know? So spunky, and we never had to push very hard to get what we wanted out of you. I think a rerun will do just fine.”

With that, Hutch turns away and claps his hands twice.

“Run it back! It’ll be even better this time, don’t you worry. I’ll make sure of it.”

Hands grab him on all sides, forcing him onto the ground. Charlie screams and thrashes, fighting with everything he has to no avail.

Something cold snaps over his face- the mask, no- but it’s too late. He’s going back.

The last thing Charlie sees is the corpse of Ranboo, bloody and broken.

I’ll get out. Charlie promises the figure. I’ll get out, and I’ll end the cycle once and for all.

#generation loss #genloss #caesurah writes #ooo looky looky #Toby is back to writing #gl!ranboo #gl!slimecicle #love this #it’s the first thing I’ve written in months and I think it’s good #Charlie Slimecicle

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avonne-writes · 2 years ago

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would you ever been willing to write more modern aus, they are so good! just can’t stop picturing drunken aemond at a club grinding all over luke when they aren’t even dating

Thank you so much! 💕 Please take this short drabble as my humble offering.

Standing by a pillar at the edge of the dance floor, Luke is waiting for Jace to get their drinks. They’re in their favourite club, the one Luke has been trying to lure Aemond to for months now, hoping that maybe, if the stars are aligned, they could finally get all the unresolved tension out of their systems. No luck so far, but Aegon promised he'd drag Aemond out tonight, so if Luke played his cards right and got Aemond jealous enough...

There's always hope, right?

He's dressed in a crop top and black jeans that hug his ass just right, hopefully a clear enough signal that he wants to get laid tonight but he's not desperate. He's fiddling with the dangle earring in his right ear when a large hand finds his right hip. Indignance and self-satisfaction battle in him as he contemplates his reaction. Unbelievable. This might be a new record for him - ten minutes in the club and he has already caught some pushy top's interest. He's not even tipsy yet, for Christ's sake!

He moves to turn around, but the guy's left hand finds his other hip and starts rocking him with the beat of the music instead. A warm exhale brushes Luke’s neck. "Hello, Lucy."

Luke jumps in surprise, but the hands hold him in place. "Aemond?!" He exclaims, craning his neck over his shoulder, and it is, indeed, his uncle, his sapphire-blue prosthesis glittering in the stroboscopic light. White-blond hair spills over Luke's shoulder as Aemond leans down to nuzzle him from behind.

"Hm." Aemond hums into Luke's skin, his lips brushing Luke’s pulse point as he continues swaying with Luke from side to side. Their rhythm doesn't even match the song blaring from the speakers. "Did you dress up so slutty for me, nephew?"

Aemond's mouth seals over a spot on Luke's neck with hot, wet suction. It makes Luke shudder. Fuck, but Aegon did make good on his promise, it seems.

"You taste slutty too." Aemond adds in a purr.

"What the fuck." Luke mutters, even as his palms settle over Aemond’s toned forearms. He's not slutty - in fact, he's in fairly plain clothes tonight compared to some of the other men on the dance floor. "Are you drunk?"

It's a rhetorical question, but it still annoys Luke that Aemond ignores it altogether in favour of grinding against Luke's plump ass. His pinkies slip under the waistband of Luke’s jeans while his hands slide up and forward to cover Luke’s bared stomach. Luke can feel him harden gradually, inch by inch, as he rubs himself against Luke in slow circles that vaguely resemble a dance.

Well. Luke can't exactly pretend he isn't pleased. It feels like a nice size.

He licks his lips. "Jace -"

Aemond's laugh sounds like a stroke of desire brushing Luke’s overheated skin. He slips a hand up under Luke’s shirt to pinch a nipple. "He's welcome to watch if he wants."

Jesus. A week ago, it was enough to feel up Aemond's thigh to make him storm away from the dinner table, and now he's ready to fuck Luke in plain sight? Fighting against Aemond's grip, Luke turns around to look at Aemond's face. He finds Aemond's cheeks flushed, his eye glassy from the alcohol as he guides Luke into a new dance that might as well pass for foreplay.

"Fuck." Luke turns his gaze to the ceiling for a second before looping his arms around Aemond's neck to draw him down. Aemond drops his head to Luke's shoulder and starts sucking marks into his neck. "You shouldn't be this drunk!"

He's going to kill Aegon before Aemond wakes up with a hangover tomorrow and kills him again.

"I'm not drunk." Aemond denies the obvious. "Let me fuck you."

Heat pools in Luke's belly, honey-thick and sweet. He stalls. "I wanted to dance."

Aemond straightens up to grab one of Luke’s hands, wedging his fingers between Luke's and pulling Luke's wrist to his mouth, pressing sloppy kisses to it as they keep rolling their hips together. Luke's cock throbs in his pants. "We're dancing, aren't we?"

He drops Luke's hand to press him against the pillar, leaning down until their noses brush. "Let's continue at my place. Wanna see you lose it, Luke."

Fuck it.

Luke is no saint, and Aemond is no damsel - this is happening.

In a teasing, meandering line, Luke's hand slides down Aemond's thin chest and stomach, then squeezes his cock. When Aemond groans, Luke gives him a smirk. He massages Aemond's length through the fabric. "Only if you're sober enough to remember how I like to kiss."

The hungry light in Aemond's eye shifts into something warmer. They've kissed only once before, long years ago, two confused teenagers unable to separate attraction and hate - but it still lingers in Luke's mind as a moment of perfection.

Aemond grabs his chin, careful but firm, and thumbs at Luke's bottom lip.

"I remember." He says, and seals it with a kiss straight from Luke's dreams.

Neither of them notice the outraged yelp coming from the bar.

#lucemond #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #my writing #anon #aemond x lucerys #drabble

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rad-hound · 9 months ago

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So, out of morbid curiosity, I listened to Skull Face's ten-minute-long-ass "What do you see?" Joker-esque speech from GZ... and while it the tape itself didn't have anything super incriminating in it other than like, I don't know, basic torture (I think a guy gets waterboarded or something) — like something else I can't stomach to watch — I have a few things to say about it.

1. This man is gaslight and gatekeep. Like Jesus fucking Christ, the amount of forced empathy under false pretenses he postures having for the sake of either gathering information or for the sake of luring his interogees (?) into a false sense of security, is honestly a little astounding. (Which, in itself, isn't necessarily something foreign to his character, hence his proclamation of "I don't want to do this. I'd rather not have to ring the bell," when interrogating Code Talker.) I would say he is two-faced, but he regularly accentuates that he doesn't have one. So it would be disingenuous to draw such a comparison.

2. The voice acting really isn't as good as the voice acting James Horan provided in the sequel, "Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain." Like, in the tape I cherry-picked to watch, it's not... terrible? But if I said it wasn't leagues below Mr. Horan's performance in the latter release, I would of course be lying. Skull Face simply sounds more menacing in the latter, despite the much more mature tone of "Ground Zeroes" in comparison. Which is strange, since "The Phantom Pain"'s depiction of Skull Face is easily the more comical, and unserious of the two. I also find it off-putting because he sounds so much younger in that one, LOL, which I suppose makes sense, given that the tapes take place around 1977-1978... ish?

I will say one thing about Skull Face's design in "Ground Zeroes," however: I like him without the mask. Very off-putting and disturbing in appearance, likely befitting of the... *cough* tone, of that game... or lack thereof. Other than that, I don't really have much to say about it.

#tw // torture #(Or. Mentions of it. IDK.)#text #rambles #metal gear #mgs #metal gear solid #mgsv #metal gear solid v: ground zeroes #gz #ground zeroes #mgsvtpp #metal gear solid v: the phantom pain #skull face #(I think it comes down to like. The dialogue was less watered down? But Horan's delivery was sort of bad. Befitting of a game so terrible.)#(I simply enjoy the more buttery inflection Skullman has in TPP instead. Ngl.)#(IDK I'll never play this fucking game anyways. So WHATEVERRRR.)

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riality-check · 2 years ago

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more bootlegging au stuff because i have the brainrot! here's the first bit, in case you missed it.

“This guy is way too heavy,” Dustin wheezes, holding the corpse by the shoulders.

“Duh,” Max deadpans, swinging its legs into the freshly-dug makeshift grave. “He’s dead weight.”

Dustin smirks at her, and regret flashes over her face.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“It was unintentional.”

“I don’t think it was. I think you’re funnier than you- oof.”

The handle of the shovel hits Dustin in the stomach before he even tried to catch it.

“Start covering him up,” Max says.

“Why can’t you do it?”

“I’m a lady. It’s not proper.”

Dustin uses the shovel to gesture at her pants. “Yeah, because you care so much about propriety.”

Even from halfway to the front gates of the graveyard and in the dark, Mike sees Max’s tiny smile. He doesn’t see much else; nothing from the trees and nothing from the road on the other side.

Dustin says he’s a great lookout. Max says it’s because nothing wants to get anywhere near him. They all know he’s the lookout because he’s the best at lying to Joyce.

Well, Will is better, but he doesn’t know anything about this. Just because he’s good at lying to his mother doesn’t mean he likes doing it. And Mike knows that if Will got involved, he’d want to do the most out of all of them, and-

Well, Mike can’t lose him again.

So, Will doesn’t know, and Max and Dustin are stuck with the second-best liar out of their little bunch. Not that there’s a whole lot of them to start.

“Keep it down,” Mike hisses. “They might not be able to see you, but other people can hear you.”

“You’re our lookout, not our mother,” Max snarks, and Dustin, the traitor, laughs.

Mike tries to hide his own laugh. As much as he and Max rib each other, and as rough of a start as they got off to, they’re still good. Most of the ti-

Something moves along the road.

It’s not a car; anyone could hear the motor from a mile away. It’s not a carriage, either, since there’s no clip-clopping or horses’ hooves. It’s smaller and slower. Probably a person.

And where there’s one, there’s many, and many means the fire of tommy guns and blood-spattered backdrops. In this case, gravestones.

“Shovel faster,” Max says, finally having joined in with her own shovel.

“Mayfield, shut up,” Mike says, still keeping his eyes on the road.

“Oh, so we’re last-naming each other now, Wheeler?”

“There’s a person on the road. Shut. Up.”

“For Christ’s sake,” Dustin mumbles, and Mike hears the pace of their shoveling increase behind him.

He still keeps his eyes on the road, on the small figure slowly approaching the graveyard. He can’t tell their gender, not with the hat they’re wearing. He can make out dark clothes and a pale face and that’s it.

He hears Max and Dustin come up behind him.

“How many?” Dustin asks, hand inside his coat.

“Just one,” Mike says. “Max, start the car.”

“Like hell,” she says, and she draws her own gun.

“Not yet,” Dustin says. “Let’s see what they want.”

“They want to shoot us,” Max says.

“Maybe not.”

“Everyone wants to shoot us.”

“Just wait,” Mike says.

In the moonlight, he can make out a face. A very feminine face, with wide, dark eyes. Her hair isn’t tucked into her hat; it’s cut close to her head, shorter than Mike’s own.

What the hell?

“Stay here,” Mike says, and he takes his gun out and starts walking forward.

“Absolutely not,” Max says, but Dustin holds her back.

“Don’t be stupid,” he says.

Mike nods and walks a few paces to meet the girl.

The unarmed girl, he notes with surprise. Either that or she’s packing her heat really well. She’s wearing a thin, light dress with a long dark coat over it, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

But the coat, clearly a man’s coat, is way too big on her. Mike doesn’t think she’s hiding anything under it.

“Awful late to be out on a walk,” he says lightly.

She stares at him, big eyes searching, but says nothing.

“Are you lost?”

She nods, then shakes her head.

“Well, it’s gotta be one or the other.”

No reaction. Just that blank stare.

Mike huffs. “Are you mute?”

“No,” she says instantly.

Finally getting somewhere, then.

“Do you speak English?” he asks, mostly because there’s something in her voice he can’t quite put a finger on.

“Some,” she replies.

“She’s a spy.”

“Jesus!” Mike swears, jumping straight back into Dustin.

“No, just me,” he says before Max promptly elbows him in the ribs.

The girl frowns at Max and Dustin, who now flank Mike, like they’re a math problem she can’t quite figure out.

“She’s a spy,” Dustin says again.

“She’s a pretty lousy spy if she’s out walking around where we can see her,” Max points out.

“Some English? She’s probably from the Russians-”

“No,” the girl says. “Not Russian.”

“What then?” Mike asks.

The girl frowns, her whole face scrunching.

“Hey,” Max says softly. “Do you need help?”

Slowly, she nods.

Shit. Mike thinks back to Max, back to what she looked like when Joyce first took her in after he brought her to her doorstep, and he knows that he can’t leave this girl behind, either.

He sighs. “Max-”

“Starting the car,” she says, and she tugs Dustin along with her.

Mike holds his arm out to the girl. She stares at it in obvious confusion, so, after an awkward thirty seconds, he drops it.

“Come on,” he says instead, and she falls into step with him.

She doesn’t say anything, so after another minute of silence, Mike asks, “You got a name?”

She points to the collar of her dress, where Mike can faintly see a tiny embroidered “11.”

As they get into the car, Max driving like always and Dustin talking like always, Mike wonders what the hell he got himself into.

Eleven. Well, at least it’s not Russian.

part 3, part 4

#ria writes #bootleggers baby #stranger things #st #stranger things ficlet #st ficlet #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #max mayfield #el hopper

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somewhat-intelligent · 1 year ago

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Gravel and Honey and Sin

Flufftober Day 8: Rainy Day

@flufftober

(Read on AO3)

Rated: Mild T

WC: 538

Judy stands at the window, arms crossed and a frown on her face as rain pelts the glass and trickles down—drop purling to drop in chaotic rivulets.

Across the yard, a branch snaps in the wind, and Judy’s frown deepens.

She’d pulled herself out of bed two hours early this morning with one simple goal in mind: go for a run before heading to the hospital.

Instead, she’s stood here in her bedroom watching her plans wash away in a downpour because, apparently, it doesn’t matter how many incredible advancements humanity has made (they’ve colonized another planet, for Christ’s sake), accurately predicting the weather is still beyond the scope of available science.

“‘Partly cloudy’ my ass,” she mutters.

The rain continues its incessant whipping, and Judy considers her second option: the treadmill. It’s right downstairs, and the workout library can replicate the exact route she planned to take anyway. But... It just isn’t the same. She much prefers running outdoors, in fresh, open air.

She’s up now, though, and it seems a waste to do nothing.

Judy huffs a breath, unable to decide. Her running clothes taunt her from the closet.

“Come back to bed...”

Don’s morning-deep voice draws her from her wallowing.

She turns from the cold, uninviting morning outside, to him—only half-covered by sheets, his exposed skin undoubtedly warm and tempting to be touched—then back to the window. To the lashing rain, and dangerous sway of the trees.

Frowning at the gray once more, she flicks the blinds a bit harder than necessary, shutting out the source of her irritation.

An irritation that begins to ebb the moment she sinks beneath the sheets, and into Don’s arms.

“It wasn’t even supposed to rain today,” she sighs.

“I know...” Don pulls her closer until her back is flush against his bare chest. As warm as she knew he would be. “But this is a nice alternative, isn’t it?”

The scratch of his stubble and softness of his lips grazing her shoulder sends a pleasant shiver up her spine. She covers his arms with her own, wrapping them tighter, nestling deeper as their legs intertwine.

“Mm. It’s okay, I guess,” she teases softly.

Don chuckles through another kiss to her neck, and slips one hand free from hers, trailing his fingertips up her arm. Ghosting from wrist to shoulder, shoulder blade to ribs, and lower, to glide under her tank top. He follows the curve of her hipbone down, and spreads his palm low on her stomach, drawing her body to meld even farther into his. As close as possible. Judy’s thighs press together at the motion, and she can’t help the soft moan that escapes her throat as she gently writhes against him, encouraging, desperate.

Like an echo to the slow, aimless drift of his lips on her nape, he caresses every chaste inch of her he can reach, setting her alight in ways only he ever could.

“Don...”

She feels his pleased smile drag up the side of her neck, and his breath flows heavily against her ear as his fingers edge downward now.

“If you still want that exercise, Princess...” His tone is gravel and honey and sin. “I’ve got a few ideas...”

#flufftober2023 #flufftober #day 8 #day 8 Rainy Day #lost in space #robinwest #don x judy #don west #judy robinson #prompt fic #pamelo:my art #rated T for suggestive cuddling 🤣

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fordecree7 · 4 months ago

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THE BIBLE BOOK OF GOD

New Testament

1 Timothy 5

Instructions for the Church

5 Do not rebuke an older man but encourage him as you would a father, younger men as brothers, 2 older women as mothers, younger women as sisters, in all purity.

3 Honor widows who are truly widows. 4 But if a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn to show godliness to their own household and to make some return to their parents, for this is pleasing in the sight of God. 5 She who is truly a widow, left all alone, has set her hope on God and continues in supplications and prayers night and day, 6 but she who is self-indulgent is dead even while she lives. 7 Command these things as well, so that they may be without reproach. 8 But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.

9 Let a widow be enrolled if she is not less than sixty years of age, having been the wife of one husband, 10 and having a reputation for good works: if she has brought up children, has shown hospitality, has washed the feet of the saints, has cared for the afflicted, and has devoted herself to every good work. 11 But refuse to enroll younger widows, for when their passions draw them away from Christ, they desire to marry 12 and so incur condemnation for having abandoned their former faith. 13 Besides that, they learn to be idlers, going about from house to house, and not only idlers, but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not. 14 So I would have younger widows marry, bear children, manage their households, and give the adversary no occasion for slander. 15 For some have already strayed after Satan. 16 If any believing woman has relatives who are widows, let her care for them. Let the church not be burdened, so that it may care for those who are truly widows.

17 Let the elders who rule well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching. 18 For the Scripture says, “You shall not muzzle an ox when it treads out the grain,” and, “The laborer deserves his wages.” 19 Do not admit a charge against an elder except on the evidence of two or three witnesses. 20 As for those who persist in sin, rebuke them in the presence of all, so that the rest may stand in fear. 21 In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus and of the elect angels I charge you to keep these rules without prejudging, doing nothing from partiality. 22 Do not be hasty in the laying on of hands, nor take part in the sins of others; keep yourself pure. 23 (No longer drink only water, but use a little wine for the sake of your stomach and your frequent ailments.) 24 The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later. 25 So also good works are conspicuous, and even those that are not cannot remain hidden.

1 Timothy 5

Diane Beauford

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christina-thebarber-yogi · 11 months ago

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It's almost over. I feel like I've been more of a crybaby about this than I was about the 75 hard challenge. Maybe because I didn't cut out the junk during the 75 hard; I just made my diet full vegan. So I didn't really lose any weight because I was still eating my feelings but I think I toned up a little bit last year. I have two more days to go and I cannot wait to eat some damn rice and put some cornstarch and some of my things that I'm making… And properly fry these oyster mushrooms I got. I might just fix the mushrooms anyway and say screw it. I've had a couple of little cheats… Trying my kids' oatmeal that they don't fix like I do, using vegan mayo because I draw the line at making my own damn mayonnaise. Whatever oil be damned. I made my own ketchup for Christ's sake and it was gross. The best thing I ate in a lettuce cup however was either the seasoned turkey burgers or the tuna salad I had today. Last night I ate some shrimp at a party and have had stomach issues all day. I love shrimp but I never wanna eat it again. I don't know if I posted these food pictures already but here are a few of the meals I've had in the past few days. I love Chia pudding so that was a treat to have regularly.

#whole30 #eggs #farmers market #chia pudding #watermelon radish #hot soup for cold days

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mehbzz · 2 years ago

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Mine Outerbanks fanfic Topper x F!reader and Rafe Cameron x F!Reader

PWP Rafe gets you high and lets Topper take advantage. 18+ Noncon, drugging, Abusive relationships.

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You stand awkwardly at the edge of the room with Topper, watching the other guests enjoy the party, waiting in awkward silence for Rafe to return with more drinks. Although you hadn’t even finished the first one he had given you, the cocktail in your hand was overly sweet, the mixture of sugar and alcohol already causing a low thumping headache to start building behind your eyes. You glance at Topper, he’s on edge, well on his way to drunk and you hesitate to use the word clingy, but he was. Every little shift away from him was mirrored by his own shift closer to you. Overly attentive and twitchy, he was definitely high and part of you felt incredibly sad about that, about how easily he gave into pressure from Rafe, but then you were hardly any better.

“You’re very quiet.” Topper finally tears his gaze away from his perusal of the room to look at you.

You shrug. You weren’t in the mood for partying. Your argument with Rafe no more than an hour ago had left you in a low mood. The ache in your jaw still throbbing brightly. Not the first time he had lost his temper with you, not even the first time he had left you with bruises but it was the first time he had lashed out and hurt you somewhere so potentially obvious. It felt swollen, sore, although you couldn’t tell if it was noticeable or not. Either it wasn’t as a bad as it felt or Topper was being very discrete about it.

"It’s weird to have you to myself," Topper shakes his head as you raise your eyebrow. "Not like, well… you know. Rafe is pretty protective of you.”

You don't say anything. Protective is not the word you’d use. Controlling, possessive, selfish, all seemed more fitting to you.

“You-," Topper glances away but seems to steel his resolve as he looks back at you with slightly crazed determination. "You look nice tonight.”

The knot of tension in your stomach tightens, you don’t like this. You don’t like Topper being so familiar with you and his compliment hits wrong, your unease turning into defensive spite as you turn away and down the rest of your cocktail with a grimace.

"Thanks. Rafe chose it." He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can speak. “I’m getting another drink, he’s taking too long.”

“Hey don’t leave me here alone,” He steps closer, his hand reaching out to wrap around your wrist and you twist away from him with a confused frown. “I’ll come with.”

“I’m good.” The touching, the compliments, it’s a lot. You know he’s having problems with Sarah but this oddly flirty behaviour seemed like a dumb move, even for Topper. If Rafe noticed there’d be hell to pay, for the both of you.

“C’mon. Can’t leave Rafe’s girl unattended. Not dressed like that.” His eyes sweep down your body, lingering across your chest and you shift awkwardly, more than a little uncomfortable.

“Dressed like what?” Rafe appears behind you, making you jump, he’s holding out a glass of something fizzy and brightly coloured, it makes you feel a little sick just looking at it. “She looks good right?”

Topper nods, taking several swallows of his beer but his eyes never leave you.

“Take it, baby,” Rafe pushes the glass towards you when you don’t move but you still hesitate in taking it and his jaw clenches in frustration. “Take the fucking drink.” He snaps, the last word hissed loud enough to draw curious gazes from the close crowd around you. You wince as you make brief eye contact with Ward, his unhappy frown pushing you into reluctantly accepting the drink.

“Christ sake what’s with the attitude?” Rafe mutters as he clinks your glasses together. “Let’s try having some fun for once yeah? Don’t ruin my night.” He raises his hand to push your glass up to your lips when you make no move to try it, not letting go until you've taken several gulps. "Good girl." He swipes his thumb across the corner of your mouth, so quickly that you don’t have time to flinch back. “Is it good?”

You nod even as you try not to grimace. It’s horrendously sweet.

He smiles, a pleased twitch of his lips. “Yeah? Your little pogue friend made it.”

You tense. You knew JJ was working tonight but you had foolishly hoped you’d be able to keep Rafe distracted enough from noticing. You’d obviously failed almost immediately and you tried not to let the concern show. “I didn’t realise he was working tonight.” You take a sip of your drink, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible but you don’t think he buys it.

“You think I believe that line of shit?” he hisses, running his hand through his hair as he stares at you. You flinch, a little take aback by the quick shift in his mood, vaguely aware of the way Topper pointedly looks away, leaving you to face Rafe’s apparent wrath on your own. “That why you were so eager to get here?”

“I -, no, course not. Sorry.” You bite back the urge to point out that you didn’t even want to come here as you wilt under his glare, not sure what you’re apologising for. It’s a feeble attempt to placate him as you raise your glass to your lips again.

He watches you for a few more seconds, but seems to relax when you don’t say anything further, keeping your attention focused on your drink.

You fight the urge to step away from the two of them, to hide away from Rafe’s inevitable tantrum but you don’t. With JJ in his sights, and coke and alcohol in his veins, he was going to be unbearably possessive; any potential slight was going to come with a hefty price when he took you home later. So you zone out, nodding and humming along to whatever conversation Topper and Rafe are having and sipping at the sugary alcohol until your stomach starts to rebel.

“You ok?” Topper looks a little concerned, his free hand reaching out to brush over your hip as he tries to keep you steady. “You look a little… off.”

“No I’m-,” Your stomach twists and you fight back the urge to gag. You really needed to get out of here. “I’m fine.” You shake your head and your vision blurs slightly, your brain feeling like it lurches at the movement.

“You sure?” Rafe cups your chin, tugging you away from Topper’s grip, his thumb running down the length of your jaw as he forces you to look up at him.

Your angry retort for the two of them manhandling you doesn’t get chance to leave your lips as the room suddenly tilts, but as you sway Rafe’s arm wraps tightly around your waist. “Easy.” His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and you shiver.

“Thanks.” you mumble, trying to take a step away from him but his grip tightens.

“I think you’ve had a little too much to drink, let’s get you out of here before you embarrass me.”

“I can manage,” You snap. The constant attention and touching giving you a strong burst of irritation, your mouth moving before your brain can engage. You really need some air. “Sorry, I just-, I can manage.”

Rafe’s grip on your hip turns painful for a second before he lets you go with a shrug. “Suit yourself.”

You hesitate, not convinced he was going to let you go so easily but he makes no move to stop you when you finally start to walk towards what you assume is the way to the bathrooms. You take one glance back to make sure he’s not following you before you disappear through the door and your heart skips a beat when you notice them both staring at you intently.

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Your legs feel like jelly, shaky and uncoordinated, one hand propping yourself up as you make your way rather clumsily down the hallway. The way the floor seems to tilt doesn’t help and as you turn at the end of the corridor you stumble hard into someone. It takes you a second to recognise JJ, your mumbled apology being met with an unbothered grin. “There you are. Been looking for you.”

“Here I am.” Your tongue is heavy, making you slur your words as you shrug, the movement making you sway lightly.

“You feeling alright?” JJ grabs your elbow, the concern obvious across his face. You nod. Your discomfort has eased now you’ve found a friendly face; the jittery anxiousness is starting to melt into a warm, pleasant buzz. He says something else but you’re far too focused on his mouth, the way it moves as he speaks and the little downward tilt when he frowns at you, scanning over you as you try to focus on him.

“Seriously are you-, Wait what happened to your face?” his eyes narrow. “Did Rafe do that to you?” You blink, trying hard to steady yourself, the way JJ’s face seems to wobble and blur at the edges making you feel increasingly nauseous.

“Hands off pogue.” Rafe’s hand wraps around your arm and yanks you backwards hard, your eyes widening in shock and pain.

“Don’t touch her like that,” JJ makes a move to grab you back, Rafe giving a startled scoff as he shoves him back hard. You make an alarmed noise at the rising tension and JJ’s attention snaps back to you, his hostility towards Rafe overridden by worry for you. “Seriously she doesn’t lo-,” He cuts off as he eyes you, taking in your dishevelled state with obvious increasing concern. “Did you give her something?"

"Why would I do that huh? She’s my girlfriend," Rafe spits then he pauses, and his head tilts as he clicks his tongue. “You know what? You made her drink, maybe you slipped her something. Bet the cops would love to know that, pogue out here drugging girls?”

JJ spits your name, he’s angry; you can see it in the way his jaw ticks and his eyes narrow, but he’s trying to keep control. “Come here, I’ll take you home.”

“The fuck you will,” Rafe hooks an arm round your waist, pulling you roughly into his side. “She’s having a good time, aren’t you baby?”

JJ’s gaze flicks between the two of you, his eyes lingering on the way Rafe’s fingers are digging into your hip. That seems to be a step too far as Rafe swears under his breath, his patience obviously running out.

“I know you got a thing for her, I’m not dumb,” Rafe pushes you backwards, making you squeak in surprise at the sudden movement, and takes a step towards JJ. Topper is quick to catch you though, looping an arm around your waist to hold you steady. “But taking advantage like that? Seems a little desperate, even for you.”

Topper tenses, his voice sounding a little strained as he tries to pull you away from the impending fight. “C’mon, let’s get some air.”

You don’t want to, you want to drag Rafe away instead but Topper is insistent and he tugs you away easily, your limbs to heavy and uncoordinated to push him away and JJ’s concerned call of your name follows you as Topper leads you down the corridor.

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“Thought we were going outside.” You mumble.

“We are. You need some water first, besides its nice and quiet in here, it’ll help.” Topper’s arm is firm around your waist as he guides you in, closing the door behind you. You slouch back against the wall gratefully, he’s right, the quiet does make you feel a little better, but something still feels wrong. The feeling grows and creeps up over you after a few minutes, prickling up and through your limbs, until you feel like your brain is covered in a hazy fog, everything feeling too bright and muted at the same time.

You groan as he steps into your space, close enough that his chest almost but not quite brushes yours. He rests a warm hand on your waist, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your hip, his hands fluttering down to your thighs and back up. “How you feeling?”

“Good, but-,” You try to reply but your tongue is heavy, and you are dimly aware that you are probably making a fool of yourself. “Not good.”

He says something else but can’t focus on his words as the room spins around you, colours swirling together. Two fingers brush over your bottom lip and you open instinctively, letting them slide into your mouth as you suck down the length of them. You know what you’re supposed to do, curling your tongue the way Rafe likes, but the choked almost startled moan you’re met with doesn’t sound like him. “Fuck I get why he’s so possessive of you.”

You blink rapidly, trying to focus your vision; the voice is not Rafe’s either. Confusion and revulsion making yours stomach lurch as Topper’s face comes into view and you vaguely remember where you are. Your teeth clamping down on the fingers in your mouth. He hisses yanking his hand back but not moving away.

“No.” You lean back, pushing against his chest and he grabs your elbow to stop you tumbling sideways. You push at his arm, or you think you do. You limbs feel light but disobedient, almost like you’re moving underwater. “Stop Rafe will-,”

"Rafe won’t.” Topper cuts you off with a huff. “He’s always telling me what a good girl you are," He ignores your squirming, his fingers finally dipping under the hem of your dress. "How sweet you are, how funny, how tight-," he cuts off with a groan, his grip digging hard into your upper thigh. "He said you'd show me."

That information is like a stab of ice through your heart. You shove at his chest but it's pointless, he's bigger, stronger and all it does is encourage him to press his hips harder against you. "going to show me?” you shake your head and regret it immediately, your vision swimming and nausea swirling in your gut and Topper’s voice drops to an almost whisper, hands cupping your face as he rests his forehead against yours. “I know what he’s like, I do. I know you want to keep him happy. So relax. Don’t want him mad at you do you?"

You shake your head, tears pricking at your eyes. Rafe had no qualms about hurting you when he didn’t get his way, and you didn’t trust Topper not to follow his lead either. You choke back a sob as you push weakly at Toppers shoulders. Rafe wouldn’t be Ok with this, he wouldn’t. Even as you think it you don’t truly believe it. Rafe was all about control, and his ego was usually the dominant factor in his decisions. You remember the feeling of Rafe’s ring cracking across your teeth and you swallow the little pride that you had left as the fight drains out of you, resigning yourself taking the path of least pain even as your brain screams at you to fight. Topper murmurs praise at you when you let him kick your legs further apart, his fingers yanking at the hem of your underwear. "Rafe said not to leave marks but-," he groans as he finally slips a hand between your legs. "Fuck you're wet. He was right, little whore really aren’t you?"

It's hard to keep track of what's going on, you feel like you're slipping in out of consciousness; everything seems to be blurry and melding together as you mumble Rafe’s name.

"Topper baby, not Rafe, say my name." he grunts as you tense, fear lancing through your muddled thoughts. "He’ll be here soon." Topper presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to your shoulder as he slides a hand down between your bodies, aligning his hips as he pushes your underwear out of the way. His lack of patience is obvious as he yanks his pants and underwear just far enough down his thighs to slide his cock between your legs.

He pressed against your entrance and you tensed, your walls tightening at the thought of him inside you. It sends another burst of panic through you and you shove pointlessly at his shoulders. “Sarah wi-,” You mumble but he ignores you, grinding his hips and moaning as his cock rubs against your cunt, pushing gently until you stretched around his tip and then he pulled back.

“You’re tight,” his voice is breathless, excited, as he pushes the head of his cock back inside you. “Feels like I’m going to tear you apart.” He grunts and snaps his hips forward, knocking the breath from your lungs as he sinks deep, one hand clapping across your mouth to muffle your pained cry. Your nails sink into his shoulders, back arching as pain spasms through you. It steals the breath from your lungs, tears pricking at your eyes.

He gives you no time to adjust to the stretch before his hips starts a rough almost frantic rhythm, his grunts and pants loud in your ear. It burns but with every uncoordinated thrust the less pain you felt. You’re getting wetter, and every rock of his hips has an uncomfortable pressure growing low in your abdomen, it’s not pleasurable but it’s not quite pain either.

“Jesus I’m gonna cum already,” He pants in your ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

Your breath hitches, turning your face away as he tries to kiss you. He’s mumbling something between his heavy breaths, something you can’t make out but you’re sure he’s moaning Sarah’s name at one point. You try to avoid his kiss again but this time he doesn’t let you, gripping your chin hard and roughly forcing your face back towards him, swallowing your upset noise in a clumsy kiss.

“Come on,” Topper huffs into your mouth as he slows, his hips stuttering and slowing to a deep slow grind, shifting his hips so he can press his thumb against your clit. It makes you jerk against him, and misreading your uncomfortable moan as one of pleasure he does it again, until the building pressure inside you snaps. It’s a sharp, short stab of sensation, more painful than pleasurable but it makes your toes curl and your thighs tremble around him.

“Shit you’re perfect,” His hips stutter and he groans, obviously taken off guard as you clench around him. He whispers your name as he cums, stilling inside you and buried as deep as he can, the feeling of wet warmth filling you making you feel incredibly nauseous. “Lucky son of bitch.”

He grinds sloppily through his high until he’s sated, squeezing your thighs as he slowly pulls out. Too your disappointment he remains nestled against you, his face nuzzled into your neck as he tries to catch his breath. “Next ti-,”

“There’s no next time. And pretty sure I said no marks.” Rafe’s sharp voice makes you jump, the relief at hearing him dying in your chest as you turn your head to look at him. He looks calm, almost bored, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall, completely unconcerned that he just caught his best friend fucking you in a storage closet. “What? There’s no-, she bit me, Rafe.” Topper shoves himself away from you, trying to do his belt up with one hand as he holds the other up. “Fucking teeth marks, look.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, your breathing threatening to turn into uncontrollable sobs as you lean heavily against the wall to keep your balance. You want to go home; you want to get away from both of them. You can’t seem to follow their conversation as they bicker, your brain feeling sluggish and a little off kilter. Rafe’s laughter startling you back into awareness.

He has a slight flush to his cheeks as he watches you clumsily tug your dress back down, wincing at the wet sensation between your thighs. You have the foolish urge to apologise again. Even if he had allowed this, he’s going to be angry and jealous once the drugs and alcohol wear off and you want to try and save yourself from the inevitable implosion that’s going to happen. Your attempted mumbled words fall on deaf ears, Rafe doesn’t seem interested, he just shushes you impatiently, dismissing you with a small flick of his fingers as he talks lowly to Topper.

You feel sick, anger surges but it’s undercut by a little shiver of fear. You want to say something, you want to scream, but you’re concentrating so hard on keeping your balance and on not giving in to the rising nausea that trying to talk feels almost impossible.

"Hey."

You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision as you try to pull yourself out of your daydream. It hurts a little to move, there’s a throbbing ache between your legs but you do your best to try and ignore it. You know you won’t get any sympathy.

"Look at me," Rafe snaps his fingers, his other hand latching on to your elbow. "You still with me?"

You nod, regretting the action as your head spins, Rafe’s hold on turning painful as he tries to keep you up right.

“She is fucked, what did you give her?”

Rafe sniffs but doesn’t comment, fingers flicking under your chin to make you look up at him, his pupils are blown wide and his expression seems torn between amusement and frustration.

“Had enough fun for tonight?” His words make you flinch. He’s sounds angry, he doesn’t look it but that’s never meant much. Rafe’s moods were volatile at the best of times and the sudden awareness of the threat of violence has you nodding weakly at the same time Topper murmurs his agreement. You feel worse when you realise you’re not sure if he was talking to you or Topper, but whoever the question was aimed at Topper decides to make his exit, barely giving you a glance as he closes the door behind him.

Its uncomfortably quiet, Rafe is staring at you but you can’t bring yourself to look up at him.

“Di-,” You start softly, not able to finish the question or even think it through. It doesn’t matter, he ignores you anyway as he steps into your space and you fight the urge to flinch back.

“Next time we won’t accept drinks from pogues will we?” Rafe’s coos softly into your ear, his fingers stroking up and down your arm in an attempt to sooth you. “It’s ok, you’re a little stupid sometimes but I still love you.”

Those two words feel like a sharp cold stab to the heart. You feel oddly empty.

“Watch the teeth in future,” He taps your cheek sharply making you flinch as he chuckles, but it sounds slightly forced, the smile not quite meeting his eyes. “I don’t appreciate it when you make a liar out of me.”

“Sorr-,”

“You ready to go?” He cuts you off impatiently and you hesitate a split second before nodding. If Rafe noticed your hesitation he doesn’t show it, kissing your palm softly and nipping gently at your finger tips.

“You’re still mine, baby,” his voice softens, arm curling around your waist, a warm palm pressing against your back and pushing you forwards until you’re nestled flush against him. He cups your face, running a thumb over your eyebrow as he presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “Always will be.”

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outer banks #obx smut #obx #topper #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction

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wkemeup · 3 years ago

Note

favorite fanfic trope: enemies to lovers but it's the moment when their tension is at its peak 😈

title: The Mess I Made - submitted by anon summary: you may not be on the best terms with Bucky Barnes, but it doesn't stop you from coming to his defense prompt: “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.” / multiple requests for enemies to lovers word count: 1.5k a/n: enemies to lovers is already tough for me and to do it in drabble form is impossible for me because it requires a slow burn, but I did my best!!

You were on your way to the tower's gym when you heard Bucky’s voice echo from the end of the hall. Towel swung over your shoulder, headphones barely even grazed your ears as you paused, turning down the music. Bucky’s shadow danced over the walls as his run his hands through his hair. A woman’s shadow emerged next to him, her heels clicking against the tiles.

You rolled your eyes. Bucky’s latest string of conquests were an inconvenience at best. His pathetic attempt to rekindle whatever version of himself he idolized from the forties in the form of cheap, meaningless hookups was just another reason you made every effort to steer clear of Barnes. His seemingly indifference towards you made easy to do so.

Steve wouldn’t let it go – his questioning of why the two of you could never get along. It wasn’t that you hated Barnes. You didn’t know him well enough to hate him. You just didn’t care for what you saw. He was guarded and cold. Condescending and arrogant. Half the time, you barely believed Steve’s stories of Bucky’s charming days in the forties. The rare moments you caught his smile, it looked forced. It barely touched his eyes and he wore a mask to bring home women who spent their nights admiring an arm he would not allow them to touch.

The rare moments you thought you saw something genuine in him, he’d lashed out. The cracks in his foundation breaking through the surface in the screams at the night of dead of night, flinching at loud noises, the easy transition to taking orders and losing himself for the briefest of moments.

You’d made the mistake once of trying to comfort him. His eyes had glazed over in the middle of a conversation. There were dozens of agents around for the annual holiday party and Bucky was in another world entirely. His pupils were dilated, his hands shaking as he closed them to fists. You never learned what triggered it, but the moment you laid a gentle hand upon his forearm, Bucky had you in a chokehold.

It took both Sam and Tony’s strength to wield Bucky away from you, all while he was practically foaming at the mouth, screaming at you to never touch him again. He was rabid as Sam and Tony struggled to hold him back. The whole party stopped to watch the scene unfold – as Bucky hurtled countless insults at you.

He was drinking Thor’s liquor. He had to have been. Half of what he said that night barely made any sense. None it worth the audacity to lay a hand upon his arm to draw him back from wherever his mind had taken him. Perhaps, if you weren’t so thoroughly humiliated, you might have considered as much.

But what he said that night stayed with you and you never let it go.

“Why don’t you stay, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice carried down the hall.

You tapped your foot impatiently at the elevators, desperate for an escape before he turned the corner. You noticed the woman’s heels were still clicking on the floors. She hadn’t stopped.

“Let me take you for breakfast, at least,” Bucky asked, a nervousness in his voice you didn’t recognize. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” The clicking ceased and you watched as the woman’s shadow placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, stilling him in an instant. “I thought you knew what this was.”

“I did. I do, but,” Bucky started, running a hand through his hair. You’d never seen him act this way before – so unsure of himself. The elevator doors open and closed as you watched his shadow sway on his heels. “I just... I want to try something different. Something... real and I thought, since we had a nice night together you might...”

“What?” the woman scoffed. “You thought I would want to date you?”

Bucky stiffened. Even his shadow appeared to mask into stone. Dread curdled in your stomach and you found yourself inching down the hall, approaching the shadows.

“Listen,” the woman crooned, “you were great last night and sleeping with the Winter Soldier is a hell of a story, but you’re not exactly... relationship material.”

You froze, stunned.

Bucky awkward cleared his throat. “I-I know, and I’m working on that. I just thought—”

“Oh my God, take the hint!” the woman exclaimed and you flinched in time with Bucky’s shadow against the wall. “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? Clearly all I wanted was a good lay. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about this clingy shit with the Winter Soldier for Christ's sake. It’s incredible how low my standards were for you.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

You rounded the corner, tossing your workout gear aside as you came face to face with the woman. She was a beautiful as the rest of them were – tall, stunning, probably one of the models you’ve seen on runways or on magazines. But her eyes were unkind, and dismissive.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she spat, shoving past your shoulder and heading to the elevator. You moved to block her when you felt the cold grasp of vibranium curl around your wrist, yanking you out of her path.

“Hey!” you yelped, watching as the woman made her escape into the elevator. You snatched your hand back, massaging at the tender muscle. “What the hell, Barnes?”

“I don’t need you coming to my rescue,” Bucky bit back. “I had it handled.”

You scoffed, the image of Bucky’s form flinching as she called him ‘pathetic’ still fresh in your mind. You’d never known him to back down from a fight. Hell, he’d gotten into a screaming match with a paparazzi for daring to ask how his morning jog went. Bucky didn’t roll over and play dead. But he let that woman wrap a hand around his throat until he choked.

“Sure looked handled,” you rolled your eyes. “She was walking all over you.”

“My sex life is not your concern,” he growled, his voice low as his eyes hooded.

“I never said a damn thing about your sex life, Barnes.” You shook your head, already regretting stepping in at all. It was pointless – foolish even – to think that he might be appreciative of your intervention, of the fact that despite the tense history between you, you would never stoop as low as that woman did.

You bent down and picked up the gym bag you’d let slip from your hands. “If you want to be treated like shit, then by all means, have fun with your next one night stand. I'll steer clear of the fallout.”

You started to head back towards the gym when you heard Bucky groan rather dramatically behind you. You paused, glancing over your shoulder as Bucky hit a fit against the wall.

“What is your—”

“You are so goddamn infuriating!” Bucky snapped and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious right now? Me? I’m the infuriating one?” You released your bag, letting the weights hit the floor as you stalked back to him. “You’re the ungrateful jerk who just yelled at the one person who bothered to stand up for you!”

Bucky gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to do that!”

He was only inches away. His breath hot against your cheeks. You could see the dark blue specs in his eyes from this close. The blacks of his eyes nearly consuming him whole.

“Maybe that’s your problem, Barnes,” you sneered. “You think you need to ask for help, that it’s earned or deserved, but it’s not! Sometimes people just want to help you, you asshole! Sometimes, people can be good and can care about you without expecting that you—”

Your back hit the wall as Bucky’s weight pressed to your chest. His lips crashed against yours, his hand slipping into your hair. Everything in him moved with purpose, with adrenaline spiked into his veins and fury in his bones – but not his hands. Even as his lips hungrily devoured yours, his hands were gentle as they caressed the nape of you neck, as they slid down your hips.

What surprised you more – was that you kissed him back. Your hand clutched into the thin fabric of his t-shirt, your lips parting for him as he brushed him tongue over yours. It was the kind of kiss that left you feel dizzy – like you’d been under for too long, your lungs aching, and still you had no desire for air.

When he finally did draw back, it was only when he was breathless. His chest panting in time with yours, his forehead dipping to rest against your collarbone. He paused for a moment, even as his fingers gently pressed into the nape of your neck as if upon keys of a piano.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Bucky confessed.

You chuckled. “I do.”

He lifted his head and you smiled when you saw his lips were pink and swollen. You brushed a hand over his cheek.

“Because even when I hated you, I still cared about you, Barnes. It’s not black and white. It’s messy and it’s grey. But I can handle a little mess, can’t you?”

Bucky swallowed, slow to the smile that crept upon his lips, but still—it came. “Yeah, I can handle messy.”

When he kissed you again, he didn’t hesitate.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #drabble night

946 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like for suggesting the backstory thing!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene || Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Hot single in your area! 😈 Find your solemate!

Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer.

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already.

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message!

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you.

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you.

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact.

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo.

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh.

“Okay, what now?”

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge.

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing.

It never comes.

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards.

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack.

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement.

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?”

He stares at you.

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that.

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long.

Fuck, he really had only one option.

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him.

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference.

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath.

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition.

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation.

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

“I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?”

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated.

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it.

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it.

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.”

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips.

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by.

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?”

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion.

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects.

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.”

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead.

Fucking finally.

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place.

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight.

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam.

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming.

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him.

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly.

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you.

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious.

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment.

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.”

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying.

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles.

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.”

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles.

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm.

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.”

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified.

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground.

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below.

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient.

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes.

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.”

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand.

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally.

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly.

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling.

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.”

“See you there.” Sam nods.

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure.

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business.

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that?

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all.

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry.

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available.

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly.

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?”

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued.

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour.

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.”

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb.

Tony has an idea.

And that was generally bad news.

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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