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mothguillotine · 3 months ago

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Chapter 2: There’s Spies in Your Radio?

Main Masterlist

cw: swearing

word count: 5k

Summary: It's been almost a month since you moved in and things seem pretty normal, until a new person shows up.

The next morning you wake up later than you usually do. By the time you wake up, everyone is gone. Your dad is at work, your mom is out shopping, and Tee is with her friends. So you decide to call Robin to see if she wants to come over before work.

“Hello?” Robin asks when she picks up the phone.

“Hey,” you say, “Do you wanna come over before work?”

“Uh, yeah,” she says, “Can your mom drive both of us?”

“Yeah,” you tell her, “Just bring your uniform.”

“Okay,” she says, “I’ll be there in twenty.”

A little later Robin shows up on your doorstep, “Well hello there,” you greet her.

“Okay, Obi-Wan,” she says and you laugh at her.

“Come in,” you tell her and she walks into your home.

“Do you want some mac n cheese?” you ask her, “I was gonna make some for lunch.”

“Yeah,” she says, “That sounds delicious.”

“Perfect,” you tell her, “I’ll start boiling the water.”

You reach down and open the cabinet to get a pot out and take it over to the sink. Then you turn the water on to the hottest temperature and fill up the pot.

“How was your night?” you ask her while the pot is filling up.

“It was good,” she says, “I just went home and watched a movie, nothing special. What about you?”

“It was fine,” you say and take the pot from the sink to the stovetop, “But my sister tried to convince me to go out with Steve.”

“Really?” she asks while you light the burner, “What did you say?”

“Well I kept telling her no because she would just not stop,” you tell her, “I mean she did, but I don’t understand why she was so persistent about it.”

“Why don’t you?” she asks.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Why not go out with Steve?” she asks.

“Why would I?” you ask.

“I mean he is obviously into you,” she says, “So why not?”

“I uh, he isn’t really, my type I guess,” you tell her, “Besides I’ve seen him interact with women before, I’m good.”

Robin laughs, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

It didn’t actually make sense to Robin, nothing about you made sense to Robin actually. You were more confusing than when she first met you a month ago. Sure, the two of you were friends, but something else was there. You never flirted with anyone at work, even when boys would make it very obvious that they wanted to take you out. So she couldn’t blame it on you being oblivious and you weren’t in any sort of relationship that she knew of.

Robin knew it was wrong to start liking you, all you had wanted was to make a friend here. But now she couldn’t stop spending time with you. It was addicting to her. She had never tried any drugs before but this is what she would imagine it would be like. If she could be with you 24/7 she would.

To be fair at first Robin really only wanted to be your friend until you realized that there were much cooler, more awesome people than her. Then one day you sat too close while you were watching a movie together. Your thighs just barely grazing hers drove her crazy, if she didn’t know any better you were doing it on purpose.

“It should be done in like thirteen minutes,” your voice breaks her out of her head.

“Oh, yeah,” she says, “Sounds good.”

“Ugh,” you exclaim, “It’s so hot.”

“I know,” Robin says, “I hate it.”

“I wish we had a pool,” you tell her, “It would make my life less miserable.”

“That would be nice,” she says.

“Oh before I forget,” you say, “Did you want me to come over tonight?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Robin tells you.

“Okay, I will pack a bag when lunch is done,” you say.

The two of you talk while you wait for the timer to go off, as soon as it does you take the macaroni off the stovetop and drain the water out from the pot. Then you mix in the cheese packet, milk, and butter until the mac n cheese is done.

“Can you grab some bowls and forks from the dishwasher?” you ask Robin.

“Yeah,” she says and grabs the dishware and utensils.

After lunch, the two of you go up to your room. Robin sits on your bed as you pack your bag for her house later.

“You finally hung everything up,” she says.

“Yeah,” you say, opening your pajama drawer, “The paint was dry enough finally.”

Robin stands up and looks around at your walls with interest, “Linda Ronstadt?”

You look over and see her looking at said poster, “Yeah, I love her music.”

“Hm,” Robin says and continues moving around the room asking you questions about posters or pictures on your walls while you pack your bag. By the time you are done packing Robin has completed her lap around the room.

“What do you wanna do now?” you ask her.

“Listen to music?” she asks.

“Okay,” you say and walk over to your dresser where your radio is. Looking through the cassettes you select one and pop it into the tape slot. Robin is back sitting on your bed waiting for you, “I picked out one of my favorites.”

Surely enough Linda Ronstadt’s voice comes through the speakers, “Who is this?”

“It’s Linda Ronstadt,” you tell her.

“I like it,” she tells you.

“Do you wanna paint each other's nails?” you ask her.

“What colors do you have?” she asks.

“I’ll show you,” you tell her and stand up. You walk over to where you keep your nail polish and grab the bag. Then you bring it over to Robin.

“What one is your favorite?” Robin asks, peering into the bag.

You reach into the bag and grab a bottle of sparkly purple polish, “This one,” you tell her, showing her the bottle, “The sparkles are kinda rainbowy.”

“That one is pretty,” she says.

“Oh,” you say and grab her hand, “What if we wear each other's favorite color?”

“Yeah,” Robin says, “My favorite color is red.”

“I actually have a red one with the same sparkles,” you tell her, “Then we can really match.”

“Why don’t we paint one nail the other color?” Robin suggests.

“I love it,” you tell her.

You paint her nails first, all of her fingernails are dark purple and her ring finger is bright red. Then she paints your nails the opposite, most of your fingers a bright red and your ring finger a dark purple. By the time your nails are done drying it's time for your mom to drive the two of you to work.

In the car, you take the front and Robin sits in the back, “So are you girls excited for the Fourth of July?”

“Yeah,” Robin says, “I don’t usually do anything really, but the fireworks are cool.”

“Well this year we will do something together,” you tell her looking into the back.

When your mom pulls up out front of the mall both of you get out. When you are walking away your mom rolls down the window and shouts, “Have a good day, hunny!”

You turn back and wave at her then quickly walk inside in embarrassment. Robin quickly follows behind you, “That was embarrassing.”

Robin just laughs and you both hurry to the shop to arrive on time. Steve is already in the back waiting for the both of you. He is already wearing his sailor cap with blue printing spelling ‘AHOY’.

“Both of you are two minutes late,” he says as soon as he notices the two of you.

“Don’t blame me,” Robin says.

“Yeah,” you say, “Blame my mom.”

“Whatever,” he says, “Just get ready.”

Then he pushes open the door and walks out to the front. You shake your head but reach into your bag and pull out your sailor cap, “God kill me now.” When you and Robin are ready you go out to the shop and find a lack of customers at the moment.

“We are waiting back here until more people are here,” Robin tells Steve and drags you into the back before he can protest.

“Open the window,” he tells you.

The two of you wait in the back while Steve takes care of the sparse customers. You read a book while Robin is bouncing a ball against the wall.

“Why do you think the sky is blue?” Robin asks you.

“I don’t know,” you tell her without looking up from your book, “I think it’s something to do with how the sun reflects off something in the air.”

“Hm,” Robin says.

Steve is taking care of another customer at the counter, “Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate,” Steve says, “That’s a buck-twenty-five.”

“Anything else?” he asks, obviously trying to flirt, yet again, “Ooh, Purdue. Fancy.”

“Yeah,” the customer says, “I’m excited.”

“Yeah, you know,” Steve continues, “I considered it, Purdue, but then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real-life experience, you know, before I hit college, see what it really feels like.”

At this point, you are struggling to hold in your laughter at his horrible failure at flirting. You look over and see that Robin is in the same boat as you, red in the face holding back her laughter.

“Kinda like, uh, I don’t know,” Steve says, “See what it’s like to earn a working-man’s wage, you know? Uh… oh I’m sorry.”

The register starts beeping, interrupting his talking, “I think that’s, like, really important.”

“Yeah, totally,” the customer says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, anyway, this was, like, so fun,” Steve says, “We should kind of like, you know, I don’t know, maybe hang out this weekend or-”

You hear the customer's coins fall onto the counter clattering, “Oh, sorry about that, uh… I don’t know. Maybe next weekend or-,”

“Yeah, I’m busy,” she tells Steve.

“Oh, that’s cool,” he says, “I’m working here next weekend, so… the following weekend’s better for me.”

“No,” she says, “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“I- This is my first day here,” Steve tries to explain himself.

You hear the girls laugh as they walk away from the counter, Robin grabs the whiteboard she keeps next to the window and a black marker.

“And another one bites the dust,” Robin says, “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”

Robin draws a sixth tally in the ‘YOU SUCK’ category while the ‘YOU RULE’ is completely blank.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, “I can count.”

“You know that means you suck?” Robin asks.

“Yep,” Steve says, “I can read, too.”

“Since when?” Robin questions.

“It’s this stupid hat,” he tells the both of you, “I am telling you two, it is totally blowing my best feature.”

“Yeah,” Robin says, “Company policy is a real drag.”

“Honestly, Steve,” you say to him, “That was just sad, with or without the hat.”

“You know,” Robin starts, “It’s a crazy idea, but have you considered… telling the truth?”

“Oh, you mean, that I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson, I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?”

“Hey, twelve o’clock,” Robin says and points at a group of girls who just walked into the shop.

“Oh, shit,” Steve says, “Oh, shit. Okay, uh… I’m going in. Okay? And you know what? Screw company policy.”

Steve throws his hat into the back.

“Oh, my god, you’re a whole new man,” Robin says.

“How much do you wanna bet this goes terribly?” you ask her.

Before Robin can say anything Steve goes in strong, “Ahoy, ladies! Didn’t see you there,” Steve says loudly which startles one of the girls, “Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Can I get you guys a taste of the cherry jubilee?” Steve asks, “No? Anybody? Banana Boat? Four people, four spoons?”

Robin scoffs at him and draws a seventh line on the whiteboard. The rest of the day goes by slowly, more people come in later in the day which requires all of you to be behind the counter. But by the end of the day, you are ready to leave and go over to Robins. When the last customer leaves you both quickly close up and walk out to the parking lot.

Your mom isn’t there yet so you both sit on a bench enjoying the warm summer air, “It’s so nice outside,” you tell her.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “It’s beautiful.”

Robin was sure that this wasn’t just a crush as she looked at you. The way the wind slowly blows your hair across your face makes her desperately want to tuck it behind your ear. Headlights gently light up the both of you.

“My mom’s here,” you tell her looking over.

“Let’s go,” she tells you.

Your mom drives the two of you to Robin's house, “Have fun,” your mom tells you when you get there.

“Okay,” you tell her, “I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you too,” she says.

You get out of the car and follow Robin up to her front door. As soon as it’s open you both walk over to her couch and fall onto it.

“Ugh,” you complain, “I hate work, I never want to go back.”

“Me too,” Robin says, her voice full of exhaustion, “Do you wanna wash your uniform for tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you say sadly, “Let me change.”

“You can go in my room,” she says.

“Okay,” you say and walk up the stairs to her room. The inside of her room is dark so you turn on her lava lamp.

Robin’s room is one of your favorite places. Her room felt like an extension of herself. It felt like nothing could bother you both here, at your house your mom or sister would always bother you no matter if you had company over. At work, customers would come in and you would have to stop talking. You never wanted Robin to stop talking, honestly you could listen to her for hours on end. Not that you would ever tell her that, you were content with friendship. Even though you desperately wanted more.

Going into your bag you find your t-shirt and pj shorts then you change into them. When you are picking up your uniform you notice a photo strip on Robins dresser. It’s one of the two of you from the mall. You had taken it during one of Robin's breaks a few weeks ago.

“Are you dressed?” Robin asks from outside the door.

“Yeah,” you say, “Come in.”

“Hey, I just need your uniform for the wash,” she says but stops when she sees you.

The two of you look at each other, her face gently lit pink from the light. You wait for her to say something but she continues to just stare at you.

“What?” you ask confused, “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” she says, “I just, uh- need your uniform.”

“Here you go,” you tell her and hand her the soiled clothing.

“I’ll go put these in the washer,” she says.

“Okay?” you say still confused.

“Do you need anything?” she asks.

“No,” you tell her and shake your head.

Robin leaves you confused standing in her room. She knows that she can see it on your face. You deserve a better friend than this, someone who doesn’t want to kiss you when she sees you. She desperately wants her feelings to go away. Robin has never had as good a friend as you and she refuses to let anything as trivial as emotion drive her away. So she decides right then that she will push her feelings so far down she will forget.

Which is decidedly harder when she actually sees you again after putting the laundry in the machine. Then the next morning when she wakes up before you and watches the sun gently light your face. And of course when she accidentally turns around and sees your bare back. All of this makes her life that much harder.

You unfortunately are oblivious to this. Most of the time chalking it up to nothing but exhaustion. But when you get ready for work the next day and Robin doesn’t speak, you start to think differently.

Robin’s mom graciously takes the both of you to work, “How many times do you think Steve is going to strike out today?” you ask her on your way inside.

“As many times as he tries,” she jokes, but her voice lacks humor.

“Are you okay?” you ask her.

“Yeah,” she says, “I am fine, I- I just didn’t sleep very well.”

“Oh,” you say, “Was it me?”

“No,” she says quickly, “I’m just not a very good sleeper.”

“Okay,” you say, “Well hey, we aren't late, so Steve can’t be upset.”

“Yeah, I guess you are right.”

By the time the peak amount of customers is in Robin looks exhausted, she has dealt with several unpleasant guests. Which in turn is making you feel tired while scooping. Steve decided that he needed his break and went in the back ten minutes ago. The most recent order is a waffle cone with birthday cake ice cream and the other is cookies and cream with chocolate sprinkles on a regular cone. You hand them both to Robin and she hands them to the customers.

“Have a nice day,” Robin says unenthusiastically to the pair.

“Thank you,” one of them says and moves to find a table.

The next kid in line comes up to the counter smiling, “Hi,” he greets Robin.

“Hi,” she says back.

“I’m Dustin,” he says.

“I’m Robin,” she responds.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Dustin says, “Uh, is- is he here?”

“Is who here?” Robin asks.

Suddenly the door swings open and Steve comes out looking extremely excited, “Henderson!”

The kid laughs and Steve continues, “Henerson! He’s back!”

You look over at Robin who is standing there very confused. The boys continue their interaction, loudly, while the two of you look at them.

“Oh my god,” you say to Robin.

They do a complicated handshake that ends with Dustin stabbing Steve with a faux lightsaber.

“How many children are you friends with?” Robin asks Steve.

“And why are you friends with them?” you ask.

Steve looks less excited and decides to leave to hang out with Dustin on his break at one of the tables in the shop. The two of you work while the two of them catch up. Both of them are quieter than before while chatting until you hear Dustin shout, “I intercepted a secret Russian communication!”

Which catches quite literally everyone's attention, making multiple heads turn to look at them. Including yours and Robins. While you are sure that this isn’t anything actually serious, after all what can happen in Hawkins, you still want to be involved. Purely because you are a curious person by nature.

Unfortunately, Steve shuts both of you out and takes over the back for his and Dustin’s spy operations, which leaves the two of you to fend off the mob of children that appear demanding sample after sample. You hand Robin a small spoonful of mint chocolate chip to give to the tyrant. The child takes it and eats it, then throws it in the trash.

“Can I try the peppermint stick?” the child asks.

“Haven’t you already tried the peppermint stick?” Robin asks.

“Yes,” she says, “And I’d like to try it again.”

“Steve!” Robin shouts into the back, fed up with the current situation.

Both of you wait for him to come out from the back to no avail. When he doesn’t come out you both walk briskly into the back to find out what is so important.

“All right,” Robin says, “Babysitting time is over. You need to get in there.”

“The children are eating us alive,” you tell him.

“Hey!” Robin shouts, “My board! That was important data, shitbirds.”

“I guarantee you what we’re doing is way more important than your data,” Dustin says to her.

“Yeah?” Robin asks, “And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?”

“How do they know about the Russians?” Dustin asks.

“I don't know,” Steve says with half a banana in his mouth.

“Did you tell them about-” Dustin starts.

“It wasn’t me,” Steve defends himself.

“Hello, we can hear you,” Robin says, “Actually, we can hear everything. You are both extremely loud.”

“Do neither of you know how to talk quietly?” you ask, “Also you are listening to that at full volume, everyone in the store can hear it.”

“You think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on your tape,” Robin explains pointing at the table full of supplies, “And you’re trying to translate, but haven’t figured out a word because you didn’t realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet.”

“Did she miss anything?” you ask.

Both Steve and Dustin are quiet and then Robin reaches for the recording that Dustin made, but before she can grab it Steve snatches it away.

“Whoa!” Steve says, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We wanna hear it,” Robin tells him.

“Why?” they both ask at the same time, looking between the two of you suspiciously.

“Cause maybe we can help,” Robin says, “I’m fluent in four languages, you know.”

“Russian?” Dustin asks.

“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day,” Robin says which impresses them immediately.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Steve says in excitement.

“Holy shit!” Dustin yells.

“That was Pig Latin, dingus,” Robin says and then sits down at the table.

“Idiot,” Steve slaps Dustin on the arm.

“But I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”

“Uh- okay and what about you?” Dustin asks, “What do you bring to the table?”

“Um- I know a little German and Spanish,” you offer, which leaves Dustin unimpressed.

“We are a package deal,” Robin says, “Both of us or neither of us.”

Dustin looks up to Steve for guidance but he looks hesitant, “Uh, I don’t,”

“Come on,” Robin says, cutting him off, “It’s your turn to sling ice cream, our turn to translate. I don’t even want credit. I’m just bored.”

“Honestly I’m just curious,” you tell the two of them and a bell rings at the counter.

You hold out the ice cream scooper to Steve which he takes and give the recording to Robin. Progress moves fast as soon as the two of you start helping to translate the recording. The three of you pick through the recording, listening for anything that can help translate. But when you are halfway through the first sentence Steve comes back interrupting the two of you.

“I need some help out there,” Steve says, “More children are requesting samples and there are a bunch of people behind them.”

“Okay,” you say, standing up from your chair, “I’ll come and help.”

“Thank you,” Steve says and rushes back out to the front.

“Let me know if you figure anything out,” you tell Robin and leave to go help Steve out.

Robin was starting to grow a bit concerned with the number of children Steve Harrington was friends with. But not only was he just friends with them he was also some sort of role model. The really concerning part was that their parents were letting them hang out with Steve-the-hair-Harrington. Although she did have to admit Dusin was the least annoying child that had come looking for Steve.

It was strange that once he left high school instead of being surrounded by girls he was surrounded by kids, but she tried not to focus on that, instead on translations. The recording is played and reversed multiple times until one of them can make out a word, once the first sentence is completely translated Robin slides open the window.

“We’ve got our first sentence,” she says proudly to the two of you.

Both you and Steve turn to look at her, “Oh, seriously?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Robin says, both you and Steve move in close to her. When Robin continues it’s in a bad Russian accent, “The week is long.”

“Well, that’s thrilling,” Steve says sarcastically.

“I know,” Robin says smiling, “But progress.”

Then she slides the window shut, “Okay,” Robin says and turns back to Dustin, “Let’s work on the next sentence.”

By closing the translation is complete for the first four lines. The whiteboard that once contained the Russian alphabet is now full of red and black ink. Robin is impressed with herself and more importantly, you tell her that you are proud of her.

“It just doesn't make sense,” Steve complains.

“Maybe we translated it wrong?” Dustin suggests.

“No,” Robin says, “I didn’t, we didn’t.”

“Let's read through it again,” you tell them.

“Okay,” Steve says, voice full of hopelessness.

“The week is long. The silver cat feeds, when blue meets, when blue meets yellow in the west.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “I have no clue.”

The four of you leave the shop feeling disappointed, “I mean, it just-,” Steve says while shutting the gate to Scoops, “It just can’t be right.”

“It’s right,” you and Robin say at the same time.

Once the shop is locked up the four of you head out of the abandoned mall. Most of the lights are turned off for the night leaving the mall feeling like something out of a horror movie. Robin and Dustin walk in front of both you and Steve.

“Honestly, I think it’s great news,” Dustin says.

“How is this great news?” Steve asks him, “I mean so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” Dustin insists, “It’s too specific. It’s obviously a code.”

“What do you mean, a code?” Steve asks.

“Like a super secret spy code,” Dustin says, like it is obvious.

“That is a total stretch,” Steve tells him.

“I don’t know, is it?” Robin asks.

“Robs, that seems like a stretch,” you say, “Let’s be realistic, why would there be spies in Hawkins?”

“Finally someone with common sense,” Steve says gesturing to you, “And Robin I can’t believe you are buying into this.”

“Listen,” Robin starts, “Just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What’d you guys think they would say, ‘fire the warhead at noon’?”

“Exactly,” Dustin says.

“And my translation is correct,” Robin says, “I know that for sure, so… ‘the silver cat feeds.’ Why would anyone talk like that unless they were trying to mask the meaning of their message?”

“Exactly,” Dustin says.

“And why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?”

“Exactly,” Dustin repeats to the two of you.

“So I guess that confirms your suspicion,” Robin tells Dustin.

“Evil Russians,” Dustin says.

“I can’t believe I’m about to agree with this strange child,” Robin says, “But, yeah, totally evil Russians.”

“So how do we crack it?’ Dustin asks.

“Well, I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges,” Robin says.

“A pattern,” Dustin says, “Right, like maybe “silver cat” is a meeting place?”

“Or a person?” Robin suggests.

“Or a weapon.”

“It’s probably gonna take a super genius to crack it, but…” Robin stops in her tracks and asks you, “Where’s Steve?”

All three of you turn around and see Steve standing next to a children's pony ride. He is digging in his pockets looking for change, most likely for the ride.

“Hey, Steve,” Robin calls to him. The change that he found falls out of his hand and onto the ground with a soft clatter, “What are you doing?”

“Uh, it’s a quarter,” Steve says, “I need- do any of you have a quarter?”

“What are you doing?” you ask him, walking over with Robin and Dustin.

“Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?” Robin asks.

“Quarter!” Steve shouts at the three of you and Robin throws him one.

Steve puts the coin into the slot and the horse starts moving, Robin looks down at him “You need help getting up, little Stevie?”

“Shh!” Steve says.

“Steve, I want to go home,” you tell him, “What are we doing?”

“Would all three of you shut up and listen?” Steve asks.

The three of you look at the mechanical horse and listen to the music that is playing, Dustin comes to the realization first, “Holy shit.”

Both you and Robin look at Dustin as you haven't quite put the puzzle pieces together yet, “The music,” Dustin says, “The music!”

You watch Dustin as he pulls out the recording and presses play. The same voice repeats what you have been listening to all day but in the background, you can hear the same music from the horse playing.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim suddenly putting it together.

“I don’t understand,” Robin says confused.

“It’s the exact same song on the recording,” Dustin tells her.

“Maybe they have horses like this in Russia,” Robin says.’

“Indiana Flyer?” Steve reads from the side of the ride, “I don’t, I don’t think so, this code, it didn’t come from Russia. It came from here.”

The four of you stop and sit with the information while listening to the music. You were wrong, something is definitely happening here in Indiana.

“Well shit,” you say, “I guess there really are spies in Hawkins.”

Next Chapter

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #y/n #reader #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #slow burn #friends to lovers #fluff #angst #fluff and angst #original character #wlw #sapphic #cannon lesbian character #canon compliant

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chrysochroma · 10 months ago

Text

So many angles, so many lines

@febuwhump day 6: “you lied to me"

Rating: Teen And Up

Words: 1,025

Fandom: Varian and the Seven Kingdoms

Warnings: Crying, Yelling, Betrayal

Read on Ao3

next chapter

title is from Everything Moves by Bronze Radio Return

this is set in my interpretation of vat7k, probably about 3/4 of the way through the plot. things you need to know for this to make sense: (this list will be continued in the end notes due to a slight spoiler warning)

ulla is varian’s mom, but he never knew her because she was trapped in thaymes, this world’s purgatory (something further, more ancient than the lost realm)

she left varian a key which used to contain a lost alchemical component, but ulla took it out before she gave it to varian

ulla is now the main villain of the plot

varian gave hugo the key (on a necklace) right after learning that his mom was the villain, which in plot time was a few days ago (ill write a scene for this sometime but it doesn’t currently exist so)

varian has canon compliant trust issues (and also trauma) :)

Varian smiled, but the conflict in his eyes told another story of what he was feeling. The joke Yong just told had been funny, but his laugh was forced, and Hugo could tell. So, when Varian quietly excused himself from the table, Hugo followed him without hesitation.

Varian curled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his arms, not crying, but close. He didn’t quite know what he was actually feeling—there were too many different emotions in his head to categorize them all into one box—so he simply sat there, silently thinking.

“Hey,” Hugo’s voice was soft, but it still startled him.

“Oh-“ He looked up to see Hugo, and relaxed. “It’s you.”

Hugo sat down next to Varian, just a few inches away. “What’s going on?” Hugo asked.

“My mom.” Varian responded, rather bluntly. He dropped his head back into his arms.

“That’s fair. I can only imagine how much that would hurt—finally meeting your mom only to end up fighti-“ He stopped himself. “Sorry. What I’m trying to say is that this is a reasonable reaction to have. Not wanting to fight your mom isn’t something to feel bad about.”

Varian hesitated. “Yeah.”

Hugo’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “…That’s not what this is about, is it?” “Not really,” Varian sighed.

“I see.” Hugo racked his mind for any other possible causes of Varian’s stress. He thought back to the encounter they had with Ulla just a few days ago. It made sense for him to be upset about having to fight his mom—even if he didn’t really know her, they were still family, and—oh. He turned to look at him. “Varian, you aren’t like her.”

“But what if I am?”

“You’re-“

“Hugo, think about it.” Varian’s voice sounded a bit crazed, almost desperate, and his breathing was heavy. “We’re both using alchemy for our own, selfish purposes, and we’re both hurting people with it.” His voice broke into a sob. “I’m just gonna turn back into a villain, and I’m going to hurt people. Again.”

“Stop saying that you are using alchemy selfishly, because you’re not.” Hugo’s voice was tender and gentle, a pleasant contrast to the panic in Varian’s voice.

“You’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not. You used it to try and help your dad, and that’s not selfish.”

“Yes, it is. I put other people in danger for my own personal gain.”

“No, you were helping your father.”

“But I wouldn’t have had to help him if I hadn’t messed up in the first place.” His eyes filled up with tears.

“Hey—you made a mistake and tried to fix it, okay? There’s nothing wrong with that. Granted, you might have gone a bit overboard with it-“

“I committed treason, Hugo. Multiple times!”

“Yeah,” Hugo shrugged. “Maybe you did, but it was for a good reason.”

“A good reason?” Varian’s voice cracked. “Tell that to all the people I almost killed!”

“You didn’t kill anyone.”

“I almost did.”

Hugo took a deep breath, then grabbed Varian’s shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. “You are not like her.” He repeated.

Varian’s cheeks were covered in tear streaks. “Yes, I am.”

“No. You are your own person, with your own free will. Sure, you’ve made mistakes, but everyone does.”

“Most people don’t commit treason,” Varian muttered.

“Shush. Varian, you are such an amazing, talented, smart, kind, considerate, beautiful person, and you and your mother are not the same.” He pulled him into a hug, letting Varian bury his face in his shoulder. “You’re not like her.”

Hugo held Varian as he cried into his shoulder, still talking even though Varian gave no response.

“Our parents’ actions, their mistakes, don’t define us. Our mistakes don’t define us. All that matters is if you’re willing to accept the blame and work to fix things, like you did.”

Slowly, Varian started to stop shaking as he melted into Hugo’s embrace, eyes closed, letting Hugo’s words fill his head.

“Thank you,” Varian muttered.

Hugo pulled him tighter. “You’re not the same. Just because she’s your mom doesn’t mean that you’re the same—heck, Donella and I are barely alike.”

Varian froze, his ragged, shaky breathing completely gone for a few seconds. “Donella?”

Hugo paused. “Oh.”

Varian pushed himself out of Hugo’s arms, moving back a bit. “Hugo, how do you know Donella?” “I, uh, don’t really, she just … happened to live near me, that’s all,” Hugo fumbled.

Varian said nothing, only stared at Hugo, his breathing getting heavier. He pushed himself off the ground, stood, and took a step away from Hugo.

Hugo stood up behind him. “Varian-“

“So when she said that stuff about there being a double agent, that was you? This whole time?” Varian spun around, his face was a mix of emotions, covered in dried tears and eyes filled with betrayal. “Hugo, you lied to me! You promised! I asked you if you were working for her—I didn’t want to, I wanted to believe you, to trust you, but I did anyway—and you lied to my face!”

“Varian, I’m sorry! I-“ Hugo sputtered. “I was going to tell you, but it had been so long—it didn’t seem important, I thought it wouldn’t matter-“

“You thought it wouldn’t matter? You thought that you lying to me, for months, wouldn’t matter?” Varian took a deep breath, and his face hardened. He stepped forward. “You promised me, Hugo. You promised you would tell the truth.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

Varian reached up to the capsule hanging from a chain around Hugo’s neck, wrapped his hand around it, and pulled. The chain snapped under the pressure and the pendant came free. Varian looked down at it before he closed his fist around it and looked back up to Hugo.

“Don’t follow me.”

He turned his back and walked to the exit of the tavern, grabbing his coat and staff as he went and leaving Hugo standing there, speechless. Without looking back, Varian opened the door, stepped out, and let it swing closed behind him, leaving the sound of it slamming shut ringing in Hugo’s ears.

here’s the rest of the list:

hugo grew up with donella (who has been the general antagonist for half the plot) but they’re not blood related, hugo doesn’t know who his parents are

donella employed him to spy on varian and the rest of the gang, but he turned his back on her and stopped. (he neglected to tell varian any of this)

#writing #creative writing #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 6 #vat7k #hugo vat7k #varian vat7k

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evedreams · 3 months ago

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Property

Entry Number: 12 Dream: Justin Arana (12) Summary: A household has its ups and downs. Rating: PG

Being married was something Eve never thought would happen, especially not to Justin Arana.

The Arana family had seen their fair share of ups and downs, but today, the patriarch and matriarch were definitely down. And it had been that way for a while.

“It’s not that hard!”

“I’m doing everything for you and the kids!”

“You know what, I am tired of this.”

Justin sighed. “Do not give in to your overthinking, Eve.”

“I’m not overthinking.”

Justin groaned. “Eve—”

“If you’re not going to get rid of her soon, I’m taking the kids and we’re going to my parents!”

“Do you think I want her near me!?”

“It certainly seems so!”

“Eve!”

“Justin, Justin, please. Don’t say another word. If you don’t get rid of her soon,” she repeated, “then it’s bye-bye.”

“Don’t do that! I have been telling her that I’m not interested and I have you and the kids! And I don’t even say ‘sorry, I’m not interested,’ I immediately say ‘I’ve got a wonderful family, stay away,’ and you can ask anyone and they’ll vouch for me!”

“In public, Justin. In public.”

“Eve, your anxiety is causing us so much stress!”

“Us?” Eve glared. “Us!?”

“Yes! Us! I am so frustrated that you don’t trust me!”

Eve glared at him. “I’m not overthinking, Justin.”

“Yes, you are! And I honestly don’t know how to help you anymore!”

Eve felt a pang in her heart but masked it with anger. “That’s it! I’m taking the kids with me! They’re mine!”

“But their mother is mine.”

Eve stared at him. “You know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “You say you own the kids, but I own you.”

“So Raphael, Celestia, and I are property now?”

“You started it.”

Eve sighed. “We have to cool off. You sleep on the couch.”

“That makes things worse,” he replied. “Not sleeping on the same bed where we can talk to each other isn’t going to get us anywhere. It isn’t healthy.”

“So what do you propose we do?”

“We can bring the kids to Mom and Dad’s, and we’ll… talk, upstairs.”

“You think that will help?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Justin shrugged.

“Okay.” Eve nodded. “Let’s bring them. You’re right, I’m sure they don’t like it when we fight.”

“I don’t either,” Justin said.

“Same.”

“And anyway… when they’re there, they don’t have to hear you scream.”

“I do not scream.” She glared.

“Yes, you do.”

Justin had a straight face, so Eve had a hard time figuring out what he meant. “Arana.”

“Mrs. Arana.”

“You’re not getting any.”

“We’ll see about that.” He winked. “Now, come on. So we can get things resolved. I love hearing you scream.”

#eve dreams #eve dreams: justin arana #rating: sfw #sfw: domestic #sfw: emotional #sfw: married #eve dreams: pf

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https-harlow · 2 years ago

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Airport Dad

Summary- Urban becomes an airport dad on a family vacation.

Word Count- 900

A/N- This was requested, so I hope you like it! :) Also not proof read. Also decided to make Kennedy 2 for this fic instead of a couple months old because it just made more sense in my head that way.

Something you didn’t expect from Urban when you had Kennedy was how much of an “airport dad” he became. He went from getting to the airport as late as he possibly could, to wanting to get to the airport hours earlier then you needed to.

It wasn’t the first time Kennedy had been on a plane, at 2 years old she had been on a plane several times, but this was the first time you were taking a true vacation, just the 3 of you. You and Urban were finishing up some last-minute packing while Kennedy napped.

“So, I was thinking we should leave at 2 tomorrow.” Urban said.

“Doesn’t our flight leave at 6?” You asked and Urban nodded, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Yeah, that gives us an hour to get there, and then 3 hours at the airport.”

“Babe, we live 20 minutes from the airport, I don’t think we need to leave an hour early or have 3 hours at the airport if I’m honest.” You told him, making him sigh dramatically.

“Fine, when should we leave?”

“3?” You suggested, knowing that was the earliest you would get him to agree on. Urban nodded as you turned to face him.

“Fine, but if we miss our flight, I don’t want to hear it.” Urban teased.

“We won’t miss our flight.” You told him, pressing a kiss to his lips softly. “You know, Jack probably wishes you were this punctual for all your flights.” You teased, knowing Urban was responsible for them missing more than a couple flights, but to be fair, so was Jack.

“Would you rather be late?” Urban asked and you shook your head. “Exactly.” He said, both of you laughing softly.

The next day, Urban made sure you were completely packed by noon, and brought your bags to the car by 1pm.

At 3pm you were putting Kennedy’s shoes on to leave.

“Urb, can you grab Kennedy’s snacks for the car please?” You asked.

“Already got it baby.” Urban told you as you finished putting Kennedy’s shoes on, standing up after helping her stand up. She ran over to Urban, holding her arms up to be picked up. Urban picked her up, holding her on his hip.

“Ready to go on an airplane?” He asked her.

“Plane! Plane!” Kennedy cheered, clapping her hands, Urban smiled, tickling her belly making her giggle.

“Let’s go then.” Urban looked over at you. “Ready to go?” He asked, looking down at his watch. “We were supposed to leave 2 minutes ago.”

“Babe, we’ll be fine I promise, but yes I am.” You told Urban, grabbing your purse while Urban carried Kennedy out to the car and put her in her car seat.

There wasn’t any traffic on your way to the airport, like Urban had insisted there would be earlier in the day, so you got to the airport in 20 minutes like normal. Urban parked the car in one of the parking garages. As soon as he parked, he turned to you.

“You get Kennedy, I’ll get the bags.” He said and you nodded.

“Okay.” Both of you got out of the car, Urban getting the bags and you getting Kennedy out of her car seat like Urban had said. As you three made your way into the airport Kennedy “helped” Urban push the bags. As much as you offered to help, Urban insisted on doing it himself.

Urban checked your bags and got your boarding passes while you held Kennedy so she couldn’t try to run away once she got bored.

You made your way through the security line, which wasn’t very long like Urban had also insisted it would be. Once you made your way through security you stopped at one of the stores the airport had for snacks and drinks before making your way to your gate and sitting down. Kennedy immediately pointing at all the planes that she could see.

“Our plane?” She asked.

“Not that one, our plane isn’t here yet.” Urban told her, as she pointed to another one, asking the same question until she made it through all the planes, and then started back at the first plane.

“You know what I realized today?” You asked Urban who looked over at you.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“That you are a total airport dad.”

“I’m not that bad.” He defended himself.

“We still have an hour and a half until we board.” You reminded him, making him shrug.

“It’s better than being late.” He said.

“That’s what an airport dad would say.” You teased making Urban playfully roll his eyes. “But yes, your right.”

“Plus, there’s no one I’d rather sit at an airport with for an hour and a half.” Urban told you.

“Remember that in 20 minutes when Kennedy gets bored and starts climbing on you like you’re a jungle gym.” You joked, making Urban laugh.

After 20 minutes that’s exactly what happened, Kennedy got bored of looking at the planes, and started to climb on Urban like he was her personal jungle gym, not that he minded, he thought it was cute. After 30 minutes of that he was offering Kennedy his phone to play on though, something you tried to wait to do until you were on the plane.

“Okay, maybe next time we don’t have to be here so early.” Urban told you, making you jokingly roll your eyes.

“You’ve said that before, this time, I’m holding you to it.” You told Urban, making him laugh.

“Okay. So maybe I am an airport dad.” Urban finally admitted.

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #urban wyatt #urban wyatt imagine #urban wyatt x reader

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urfavstargirl1 · 2 years ago

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The Promise

Part 4 to the series Chemistry, Part 2, Part 3 -- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

stranger things masterlist | Spotify playlist

summary: Y/N and Eddie celebrate their finished chemistry assignment with a date that isn’t exactly a date.

cw: yearning, angst, fluff, anxiety, hurt/comfort, shy/nerdy!reader, pre-ST4, cocky!Eddie, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, swearing, drinking, smoking

a/n: this was originally going to be the last part of the series but it ended up being so long I had to split it into two parts lol. it's a long chapter but hopefully it conveys the progression of their connection

“You want me to cover for you so you can go to Lovers Lake with Eddie “the freak” Munson?”

Y/N looks back and forth between her friend’s eyes and nervously squeaks, “Yes?”

“Y/N,” her friend replies in an unsure tone.

“What?”

Out of the four other girls in Y/N’s friend group, she’d been friends with Michelle the longest. She knew she could trust Michelle the most with something like this. And after having already made plans with Eddie and explaining everything that’s happened between them thus far, she knew Michelle would be the only one who would even remotely understand.

“Is this like… a date?”

“What? No! Of course it’s not,” Y/N says defensively.

“Are you sure? Because you’re going on a lakeside picnic, you know how romantic that sounds, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Y/N lies, not having realized how romantic it sounded till Michelle pointed it out.

“Does he know that?”

“Yes! I mean, I’m pretty sure.”

Michelle looks at Y/N skeptically.

“I mean we’re just classmates, maybe friends at most. I doubt there’s an inkling of anything romantic going on here.”

Michelle raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, do you like him?”

Y/N’s eyes widen and eyebrows raise, “What? No, I…”

“Y/N.”

“I don’t know. I mean, I like him as a person.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I-I don’t know. Maybe? I-I’m still getting to know him. Isn’t it kinda early to say?”

Michelle looks at Y/N unconvincingly and shakes her head. “Y/N, I say this because I love you, but I think you should be careful, okay?”

Y/N stares at her with a blank face, masking how steeped in guilt she really feels.

“You’re my best friend, and this is the first guy you’re ever going out with. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

___

The guilt of Y/N’s upcoming adventure with Eddie was starting to eat at her. She tried to make sense of what Michelle had told her. Would she have still said that if Y/N were going out with any other guy? Did she just say that because Y/N is the only girl in their friend group who’s never had a boyfriend? Who still hasn’t had her first kiss?

As Michelle’s words kept ringing in her brain that day, her sister’s soon joined the chatter that kept Y/N up that night.

“I need your help.”

Y/N’s sister looks at her annoyed. “With what?”

“I’m going out tomorrow.”

“Okay, and?”

“I told mom and dad I was hanging out with Michelle, but I’m not.”

“Oh,” she smirks. Y/N squirms under her gaze.

“They’re picking me up at 2:00 tomorrow and I need you to distract mom and dad when that happens.”

“You’re hanging out with that boy who drives the van, aren’t you?”

Y/N huffs in annoyance, “Does it matter?”

“Yeah it does. If my baby sister is going out with a boy, I think I should know.”

Y/N scowls at her sister. “And don’t you think I should know whenever you sneak a boy into your room at night?”

“That is none of your business.”

“And mine is?”

“Yeah, it’s different because I’m your older sister.”

Y/N wishes she could say “How does that make it different? It’s not fair that you never tell me anything and expect me to tell you everything”, but right now, it’s a matter of picking and choosing her battles.

“Whatever. Can you help me with this? You know how Mom and Dad are about this stuff.”

“Sure, I can do that, if you do my chores for a month.”

“What? Mom’s already making me do chores tomorrow before I go out.”

“Guess you don’t need my help that badly,” she says as she turns her nose up.

“Fine. But only for a week.”

“Two weeks.”

Y/N inhales, “Deal.”

___

Whenever Y/N wanted to go out with friends, her parents almost always said yes, but on the following three conditions: no boys, be home before curfew, and you have to do your chores first.

So there Y/N was, on that quiet, overcast Saturday morning. While the birds were chirping outside, loud music could be heard inside as she swept and mopped the kitchen, cleaned her bedroom and bathroom, and vacuumed the living room.

For once, doing her chores was a welcomed task. It was a perfect distraction from the feelings of shame she has about going to hang out with Eddie or the guilt and anxiety of not only lying to her parents but worrying the people she loves just for once, wanting to spend a day of innocent fun with a boy.

When it was time to get ready, all those feelings came flooding back. She had to remind herself that she was just going to hang out with a friend. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, despite feeling like the opposite.

By the time she finishes, she checks the clock on the wall in her room, then the watch on her wrist. Both read 1:55 pm. The second hand on her watch ticks rapidly. Her heart matches the pace as her palms begin to sweat.

She takes one last look in the mirror. She pulls her jeans up and readjusts the collar of her light pink polka dotted blouse. She pats a few flyaway hairs down and fluffs the flowing locks of hair behind her shoulders. She readjusts the clasp of her necklace that has peskily reached the front of her neck. She looks at her lips and the realization hits her.

She rushes over to her nightstand and fishes out the black revlon tube of crimson red lipstick. She pockets the lipstick, waiting till the moment she’s out of the house to gather the courage to put it on.

She looks at herself in the mirror one last time, then reviews the contents of her bag ensuring she has everything she’ll need.

Ok, it’s now or never.

Y/N walks out of her room, backpack slung on her shoulder. She peeks over into her sister’s room, “Now.”

Y/N walks back out and rushes down the stairs. She sees her parents in the living room, sitting on the couch watching tv.

“Michelle will be here to pick me up in a bit.”

Her mom replies, “Ok honey, just remember to be home by–”

“Mom, Dad, there’s a spider in the bathroom! It's HUGE! Come quick,” Y/N’s sister screams from upstairs.

Her parents look at each other. Her dad says, “Go get the broom.”

Her dad scrambles up the stairs while her mom searches the pantry.

Y/N checks her watch: 1:59. She quickly glances out the window and doesn’t see his van.

When she sees her mom’s figure ascend the stairs and out of view, Y/N frantically searches the fridge for the picnic items she prepared and hurriedly stuffs them in her bag. She zips up her bag then looks back out the window. He’s here.

“I’m leaving,” Y/N shouts before frantically running out the door and closing it behind her.

She sprints across the yard and opens the door to the van, welcomed by a fresh blast of heavy metal music blaring through the sound system.

“Hey there sweetheart,” Eddie smirks before he sees Y/N climb in and anxiously fall into her seat. She flips her hair over her shoulder.

He’s taken aback by her frazzled state, but even more so by the stark change in her appearance.

Her hair looks so beautiful when it falls down her back like that, why doesn’t she wear it like that more often? And why does this feel like the first time he’s seeing denim hug the shapely flesh of her legs so nicely?

None of her other blouses softly drape against her curves like this one. And this definitely can’t be the only time he’ll ever have his breath taken away by the soft skin beneath her gold cross necklace exposed at the collar where the top button is left undone.

“Woah,” Eddie mutters in wonder, eyes glossing her over.

“Eddie, drive!” Y/N yelps as she shuts the door.

Her words take Eddie out of his enamored trance. “What?”

Y/N buckles her seatbelt and looks over her shoulder, shouting, “Drive! Just drive! Please!”

Eddie blinks and nods, “Oh, yeah,” and presses down on the gas.

Y/N’s labored breath fogs the glass of the window as she looks over her shoulder, watching as the sight of her house disappears into the horizon.

As Eddie zips his way out of Y/N’s neighborhood, Y/N’s breathing slows and the nervous churning of her stomach begins to go away. Things are going according to plan, for now at least.

When Eddie reaches a stoplight, he looks over at her with concern, observing her silently chew her bottom lip and clutch her backpack to her chest. “You okay sweetheart?”

Y/N inhales deeply through her nose, too worried about the narrow escape of her house to process the pet name, and looks at him. He looks pointedly at her backpack and she follows his gaze, realizing how nervously she’s holding onto it. She relaxes her grip and sets it down on the floor in front of her feet. “Oh, yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I-I will be.”

“Recovering from an adrenaline rush, are we?”

“I don’t know. Adrenaline, anxiety, same difference at this point.”

Eddie chuckles and reaches behind the seat. “Maybe this’ll help you relax.”

“Eddie if you pull out a joint right now, I swear to god I’m gonna–”

Eddie proceeds to shove a bouquet of wildflowers near Y/N’s face. “I know you said I didn’t need to bring anything, but these are for you.”

Y/N gawks at him and slowly accepts the flowers. She looks at them incredulously.

Eddie looks forward, focusing on the road. “There’s um, a bunch of these in the woods by my place.”

“Wait, they’re not poisonous are they?”

Y/N inspects the flowers and then her hands.

“No, uh I’m pretty sure they aren’t.” Eddie looks at her confused.

“How do you know?” Y/N asks, voice shaking.

“Uh, ‘cause I’ve picked these flowers before.”

“Oh,” Y/N responds defensively, already imagining what other girls he must have gotten the flowers for.

Eddie looks over at her and cautiously says, “My mom, uh, she used to take me to pick them for my Uncle Wayne whenever we came over to visit as a kid.”

Y/N looks at him and locks eyes, seeing a sense of childlike innocence in them that she’s never seen before.

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have even asked. That was–

“No, hey it’s o-kay.”

“No, Eddie, that wasn’t cool of me. I’m kind of on edge right now but it doesn’t give me the right to—.”

“Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal,” Eddie replies earnestly.

“B-but—“

“Y/N, don’t worry about it,” Eddie chuckles, “Remember what we talked about? Today is about letting loose and having fun, right?”

Y/N sighs and nods reluctantly.

Eddie extends his hand and closes his fingers in his fist except for his pinkie finger. “Promise me you won’t worry. That you’ll enjoy yourself.”

Y/N hesitates. Just because someone tells you not to worry doesn’t make the worrying stop.

“Y/N,” Eddie coos.

She interlocks her pinkie finger with his.

“Ok.”

“That’s my girl,” Eddie praises, smiling at Y/N.

Y/N eyes grow wide and cheeks redden. Eddie looks back at the road before them, oblivious to his effect on Y/N.

Y/N shifts her focus to something else. She brings the flowers closer to her nose and takes in the light and fresh scent. “Thanks Eddie, they’re beautiful.”

Eddie grins, feeling an electric sense of victory at Y/N’s reaction.

Y/N admires the vibrant mix of purple, red, and yellow flowers with small delicate petals.

Y/N turns her attention to passing scenery. The rows of houses slowly dissipate into the woods that stretch on for miles. The leaves on the tall thin trees a myriad of oranges, reds, and browns.

But the views are only distracting enough. Soon, her thoughts turn back to her anxieties. She wonders what her parents are doing? Do they have any idea what's going on? Will they try to call Michelle at all? Is her sister doing a good job at helping her cover?

“Y/N,” Eddie calls out. Y/N looks at him and his eyebrows are raised. “You alright? You’re pretty quiet over there.”

“Yeah, I’m just…” Nervous? As if it wasn’t already obvious or embarrassing enough to say it out loud.

“I was just wondering, do any of your friends know you’re out here, with me?”

Eddie taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “Uh sorta. The Hellfire guys wanted to hang today but I bailed so they know I’m out doing something else. But the only one who knows where I’m really at is my buddy Gareth.”

“Oh,” Y/N says in quiet shock. Eddie canceled his plans to be with her. He chose to spend a day with her than with his friends. Despite knowing the answer, she can’t help but wonder what that means.

“Do your friends know?”

“Um, just one. A few of them had family stuff going on this weekend so we didn’t make any plans. But I told my closest friend Michelle. My parents think I’m with her right now so she’s helping me cover.”

“Well look at you, already sneaking off with the town freak.”

Y/N looks down, a pang of guilt hitting her in the chest making it slightly difficult to breathe.

“Uh, I guess. As long as I’m home before curfew, and my parents have zero suspicions that I’m with someone of the opposite sex, they don’t really care what I do.” She says aloud, more so to justify to herself that what she’s doing isn’t wrong than actually explaining anything of importance to Eddie.

“Ah, so there is a limit to their strictness.”

“Yeah, kind of,” she replies in a quiet voice. The heavy weight on her chest and tightening of her muscles grows stronger. It hurts, but its somehow a welcomed reprieve from the anxious churning of her stomach from before.

“Relax, you’ll be okay with me, smarty pants.”

Y/N looks at him, smiling at the nickname. “I’m holding you to it… rockstar.”

“Is that your new nickname for me?” Eddie teases.

“Maybe… unless you rather I call you something else?”

“Like what?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe nerd, or dork.”

Eddie scoffs.

“Aw, what about Edward, how cute?”

Eddie cringes. “No to any of those. Although I wouldn’t be opposed to being called master.”

“Master,” Y/N looks at him in disgust.

“Yeah, like a dungeon master.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“In D&D the dungeon master, or DM, is like the leader, the one that organizes the campaign.”

“Oh, is that you do?”

“It’s not what I do, it’s what I am babe.”

Y/N blinks, flustered at his words. “What the hell are you talking about Munson?”

“The Dungeon Master does a lot of things, but they’re essentially the creators of the world where the game takes place.”

“What do you mean? The world the game takes places in doesn’t already exist? You have to create it on your own?”

“Not exactly. It’s more like you can customize the world. There’s a lot of different characters and settings and situations that could play out, but as the DM I can pick a specific sequence of events. From there, I pretty much control everything in the game except for the other players actions.”

Y/N scrunches her eyebrows. “Oh! I didn’t realize how much went into it.”

“Yeah, anytime we have a campaign, just know it took weeks or even months of preparation.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yup.”

“If you’re the one creating it all and planning how everything plays out, it’s almost like you’re their…”

“God?”

A god was exactly what Y/N was thinking but never in a million years would she spoon feed his ego like that.

“What? No! Now you’re just being egotistical.”

Eddie leans over to cockily say, “Is it really egotistical if you know it’s true?”

Y/N takes a moment to contemplate his words. In the same breath she says “Yes”, Eddie says, “See!”.

“You hesitated,” Eddie smirks.

“I didn’t hesitate, I was just thinking about my answer.”

“Uh huh, sure you did sweetheart.”

“Eddie, you can’t be serious. And you’re far from a god! You’re very much a mortal man.”

Eddie looks over at her, “Oh yeah? What if I told you I could make you see the gates of heaven.”

“Um, what? How would you even do that?”

“Why don’t you get in the back and I’ll show you,” he winks.

“Eddie!” Y/N yelps, embarrassment infused in the blood currently racing toward her cheeks. She should’ve known she was walking into that one.

He laughs boisterously, “C’mon Y/N, it's hard not to tease you when you get all flustered like that.”

“Fuck off,” she says as she flips him the bird.

“Oh sweetheart, I intend to.”

Y/N squeals, “Oh my god, how do you manage to turn everything sexual?”

Eddie leans back and extends his arms fully, fingers clutching the steering wheel. He sighs contentedly, “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

“Your only gift is being obnoxious, that's for sure.”

Eddie laughs and a comfortable silence falls between them too. The comfortable feeling only lasts for so long when Y/N’s thoughts wander back to her anxieties.

She tries to focus on her breathing and count the number of cars they pass on the road as a way to distract from the physical sensations of her body.

The further away they go from town, the more nervous Y/N gets. She worries what her parents would think if they knew where she was and who she was with right now. It seemed like a good idea before, but now, she wonders if this was the right call.

Admittedly, things were so much easier, so much simpler before Eddie showed up in her life.

“We’re here,” Eddie announces as he puts the van in park.

What? That was fast.

Y/N blinks and looks around. They’re in a small parking area surrounded by tall thin trees. Ahead of the car is a dense forest that stretches into the horizon.

She leans forward to pick up her backpack and feels a hard material shove into the crevice of her hip. She leans back and takes the offending item out of her front pocket: the tube of red lipstick.

She pulls down the visor and flips open the mirror to lightly apply the rosy pigment to her perfectly puckered lips. She presses her lips into each other and smiles at her reflection.

Y/N grabs her backpack and slowly gets out of the car. She notices a few other cars in the lot but it's otherwise empty. Across from the van, there’s a paved path with a sign that has an arrow pointing forward with the words “This Way to Lovers Lake.”

The only sounds filling her ears are that of birds chirping and leaves crunching beneath her feet, that is until the loud slam of the van’s backdoor can be heard.

Y/N looks up and sees Eddie, balancing a guitar case in one hand, and a little portable radio and a six pack in the other.

She’s fully seeing him for the first time today. He’s wearing chunky black combat boots, loose sky blue jeans with holes in the knees and a chain at the belt loops, a faded metallica tee shirt cropped right above his belly button, exposing the trail of light chestnut hair from his stomach to his hips that Y/N’s eyes may or may not have lingered a little too long on, and to top it all off, his signature leather jacket and denim vest.

She walks over to him and clears her throat when he doesn’t notice her presence.

“Hey sweetheart, you re–”

Eddie looks down at Y/N and the red of her lips becomes a target to his eyes. His own lips threatening to shoot for the bullseye.

Y/N nervously smiles at his widened eyes and slackened jaw.

Eddie clears his throat and straightens up after staring a moment too long.

“I like the, um,” he vaguely points to his own lips, “The red looks good,” he finishes with a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” Y/N says awkwardly.

“You, um, you ready to go?” Eddie asks, pitch climbing higher with every word. He points behind him, silver jewelry along his fingers, wrists, and neck reflecting the light of the overcast clouds.

The guilty tension in her muscles converts back into the anxious churning in her stomach. She swallows dryly and musters a smile, “Yup.”

“C’mon,” Eddie ushers her with a brief touch of his hand to her lower back. His soft brown waves of hair swishing along with hers.

For a moment, his touch eases her tension, but she has way too much pride to let him know how much she enjoys it and too much guilt to ever ask for more.

The cool early autumn breeze blows past them. In that September in Hawkins way, the heat of the summer has long gone and the crisp coolness of fall is starting to linger in the air, but its presence won’t fully be established till early October.

The overcast sky looms above them and creates a sense of relief in Y/N. She always loved the rain. Even though it’s not in the forecast till later tonight, the possibility of it is enough to put her at ease.

Eddie and Y/N make their way over to a picnic area with wooden tables and small charcoal grilling stations. The place is empty, with no one to be found for what feels like miles.

The realization that Eddie and Y/N are all alone here makes Y/N nervous. But isn’t this what she wanted? To be alone with Eddie in a quiet place where they could be themselves, without the scrutiny of their family or friends or the Hawkins community at large.

“You sure you’re okay,” Eddie asks as he rubs a hand along Y/N’s shoulder as they set up at one of the tables with a view of the lake.

“Mhm,” she hums, avoiding his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You say yeah but you don’t seem very yeah.”

Y/N glares at him.

Eddie sets his things down on the table, “I’m just saying, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay?”

Y/N squirms under his gaze, feeling like she could snap from having to choose between what she wants to do and what she should be doing.

“Just say the word and I can–”

“No!”

Eddie side eyes her and raises his brows.

Y/N runs a palm over her face.

“No, Eddie I…I want to do this it’s just–,” Y/N clenches her fist and breathes harshly out of her nose. She bites her lip and looks around, not sure how to explain what she’s feeling.

“C’mere,” Eddie waves her over.

He pulls her in for an embrace, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other stroking the hair draped over her shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re safe with me. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

Y/N melts into his touch and wraps her arms around him. She rests her head against his warm touch. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’m gonna promise you something, okay?”

Y/N pulls away slightly to look up at him.

“Even though there aren’t a whole lot of witnesses around…”

She moves her hands to his chest as he keeps his hold on her. “Eddie,” she says with a worried look on her face.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he chuckles, rubbing circles in her back with his thumbs, “I was gonna say that if I do something that makes you uncomfortable or just anything weird, you have my full permission to just punch me in the face.”

Eddie brings one hand up into a fist and brings it to his other palm opened flat, resulting in a smack sound.

“What?” She scrunches her face and playfully shoves at his chest.

“Seriously, you can go full Rocky Balboa on me, I don’t mind.”

Y/N looks at him concerned, trying not to laugh.

“Promise me you’ll do that okay?”

“Oh my god Eddie,” Y/N sighs as she lowers her hands back down to her sides, “You’re such a…”

“Such a what?”

“A dork!” Y/N laughs. She walks over to sit down on the side of the bench facing the water and starts unpacking her backpack.

Eddie slides in next to her and Y/N looks at him from her peripheral vision. She thought he would’ve sat across from her, but she guesses he just wants to look out at the water too. Although, he’s sitting rather close, a little bit too closely in fact. There’s plenty of space on the bench, so why does he need to be practically touching her?

He fumbles around with the radio on the left side of the table. “Do you want to listen to some music?”

“Sure,” Y/N smiles and fumbles around in her backpack.

Eddie sets the radio to her favorite station and Y/N looks at him in awe. A wave of relief washes over her. “You remembered?”

“Of course I did.”

Not only did Eddie remember, but he knew that trying to make her laugh or doing something he knew Y/N liked would help her feel more comfortable.

She smiles in surprise. “By the way, um, I made you this.” She hands him a cassette tape and a folded up piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, amused.

“It’s a mixtape.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, um nothing metal, for obvious reasons…”

“Obviously.”

“But um, it has some stuff I like, that I think you might like too. Like some of that Luis Miguel stuff I told you about. But um, yeah, all the tracks are listed on that piece of paper.”

“Luis Miguel? Finally, let’s put this bad boy on!”

“No!” Y/N juts her hand out.

“No?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow and looks at her smugly. “No… I want you to listen to it when you get home.”

Eddie raises both eyebrows, giving Y/N a shit eating grin. He’s surprised she would even think to gift him something like this. It means more to him than she’ll ever know, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that he’ll never miss an opportunity to see her all hot and bothered like this.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because…”

“Because what?”

“Because, you can find out then.”

Y/N had put her favorite songs on that tape along with a few… suggestive ones as well. She can’t help it if The Thompson Twins created one of the greatest love songs ever! Even though they haven’t known each other long, Eddie’s managed to find a way to hold her now and warm her heart.

“Why can’t I find out now?”

“Eddie, please don’t make me go all Rocky Balboa on you.” Y/N raises her hands in soft fists for emphasis.

Eddie raises his hands in mock defense, “Alright, fair enough smarty pants.”

Y/N smiles nervously and Eddie smiles admiringly. “Ready to get this badass picnic started?”

Y/N rolls her eyes cringing, at his silly name for their outing, “Sure.”

She passes him the sandwich she made along with the chips and can of coca cola she packed for him. She assembles the same thing for herself. She unwraps the plastic wrap and brings the sandwich up to her lips before Eddie interrupts her.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“Bring your sandwich up to mine.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

“No, just tell me why.”

“You’ll see why.”

Y/N looks at him annoyed.

“Please?”

Y/N sighs and brings her sandwich triangle close to the one in his hand. “Okay, now what?”

“Here’s to having fun day with zero worries,” Eddie toasts and Y/N looks at him confused, “chemistry… and Rocky Balboa.”

Y/N scrunches her nose and smiles.

He touches the tip of his sandwich triangle to hers and winks, “Cheers.”

Y/N shakes her head and smiles, “Such a dork.”

She takes a bite of her sandwich and Eddie playfully shoves his shoulder to hers, “Yeah, but I’m your favorite dork, right?”

Her eyes widen and she looks down. Oh Eddie, you have no idea.

“Oh my god,” Eddie moans as he takes a monster sized bite of his sandwich. “You made this?”

“Yeah? And don’t talk with your mouth full,” Y/N chastises.

“This is so good,” Eddie replies, the words muffled by the bits of food in his mouth before he swallows.

“Um, thanks? It’s a pretty normal sandwich though.”

“What’d you put in it?” Eddie asks before he takes another bite.

“Um, turkey and cheese with lettuce, tomatoes, and a bit of mayo on plain old wonder bread. Nothing special.”

“Maybe not to you, but this is the best sandwich I’ve ever had,” Eddie groans.

“I don’t know. I guess food tastes better when someone else makes it,” Y/N shrugs before she takes a bite of her own sandwich.

“Yeah, it really does,” Eddie quietly nods.

Eddie’s been making his own meals since he was pretty young. With his parents gone and his uncle always away at work, he’s had to rely on himself for a lot of things; food being one on the very long list.

He’s no chef, but he can do enough to survive on. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or burnt scrambled eggs and toast used to make up a vast majority of his diet. That is until he discovered the glory of frozen TV dinners.

However, there are times where he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to discover the magic of a home cooked meal.

And what Eddie doesn’t know and that Y/N doesn’t think is important enough to tell him is just how much love and care she put into making those sandwiches.

Early on, Y/N learned the essence of food as a form of showing love. She saw it when her mother spent time cooking meals for the family or when her dad would cut up fruit for her when she studied or take the family out to get ice cream after anyone had a particularly bad day.

So to Y/N, this is normal, but to Eddie, the thought and effort can be tasted in every bite of the delicious sandwich.

“You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” Y/N says excitedly and reaches into the bag. She pulls out a clear plastic bag filled with warm chocolate chip cookies she spent the entire morning making.

“No way,” Eddie snatches the bag with eyes the size of the cookies. Y/N giggles at his reaction. He inspects the bag of cookies, each a slightly different size from the other.

“Wait, you made these too?”

“Yeah! I actually had to try a different recipe because I lost the one I usually use so we’ll both find out if they’re good or not. So much for copying a chocolate chip cookie recipe from a library cookbook,” Y/N says nonchalantly.

Eddie looks at Y/N and he could just kiss her. His chest is burning with heat and his blood is pumping so, so loudly. It’s such a small gesture, and yet it means the world to him. No girl has ever done something like this for him before.

“You’re quite the little chef aren’t you?”

“Uh, I don’t know about that, but uh, I guess you could say food has a special place in my heart.”

“I like that. What other kind of stuff can you make?”

“Mostly desserts. But I want to learn more family recipes. Especially once I go off to college and stuff. I want to be able to cook for myself.”

“Well, whenever that cooking class goes down, you mind if I join in? I’m pretty shit at it but I’ll help taste.”

Y/N laughs. She guesses it's true when they say that the way to someone’s heart is through their stomach.

The two continue to eat while Eddie teases her and tells her jokes in his D&D voice to make her feel more at ease.

Sure enough, Eddie showers Y/N with praise at the taste of the decadent cookies. It makes Y/N blush to hear his compliments but to also know how much a small gesture on her part means to him.

When they finish eating, they continue to sit and talk, enjoying the lapping water in front of them. Y/N notices how Eddie will tap his ringed fingers along the wooden table top or shake his leg underneath the table.

After a while, Eddie takes a can of beer out of the six pack and Y/N looks at him skeptically. She saw him bring it over to the picnic table, but she somehow forgot to make the connection that he brought it because he was going to drink it.

“You want some?” Eddie offers.

“Um, no. I think I’m okay,” Y/N replies, avoiding his gaze.

“You’ve had beer before right?”

“No, not really, but I’m cool,” Y/N nervously says.

“You sure you don’t wanna try some?”

She looks hesitantly from the can in his hand to the encouraging look on his face.

“Just take a sip, see if you like it,” Eddie takes his own sip before holding out the can to her.

Y/N feels a wave of disappointment flow through her. She didn't think Eddie would need to drink just to have a good time with her. She can’t imagine why he would bring it otherwise.

And she could live the rest of her life without having had a sip of beer and be happy. But she’s also acutely aware that she’s probably taking this all way too seriously and should just go with the flow like a normal teenager.

Out of politeness and not wanting to seem uptight, she cautiously takes the can from his hand and brings it up to her lips. She closes her eyes and takes a sip of the bitter liquid. She shudders and tries to stop her face from scrunching up. She brings the can down on the table in front of him.

“Yum,” she says with a sarcastic smile as she tries to neutralize her facial expression.

Eddie chuckles as she passes the can back to him, “You get used to the taste.”

“I doubt that,” she mutters angrily under her breath.

Eddie picks up on the way she responds and notices the way her shoulders hunch over as her gaze is glumly cast out at the water.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

Y/N looks at him from the corner of her eye and nods, “No, I’m okay.”

“Y/N, you don’t look very, okay,” he imitates her voice by saying the word in a high pitch.

“I-I am, I’m fine,” Y/N musters a smile at him.

“Y/N,” he calls her name in disbelief, “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that right?”

“Y/N brows furrow as she looks from him to the silver can in his hand.

“It’s just, why did you bring… I mean, is hanging out with me so bad you need that just to get through it?” Y/N tries to say in a lighthearted way.

“What?” Eddie hisses, hurt at the idea.

Y/N looks at him, suddenly feeling small and guilt-ridden. Eddie looks from the six pack to her.

Eddie shifts his body to straddle the wooden bench. He places his palms along his thighs and leans forward, eyes narrowed, “Can I level with you?”

Y/N looks at him wide-eyed, slightly shifting her body to face him too.

He searches between her eyes, “Believe it or not sweetheart, but I want to be here. And this? This is just to help calm my jangled nerves.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrow, “Calm your nerves? Why would you need to do that?”

“Well let’s see, I’m at Lover’s Lake with a pretty girl who has the biggest brain in the world, you tell me.”

Y/N jerks her head back, not sure if she should laugh or smile at the weird compliment.

“Do I…I make you nervous?” Y/N whispers, eyebrows raised up to her hairline.

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner.” Eddie calmly says before taking another swig.

“What? You’re lying,” Y/N playfully slaps his bicep.

“True story sweetheart.”

“Why?”

Eddie laughs, “I don’t know. Why is the sky blue? It just is.”

“Yeah but it doesn’t make sense.”

Him making her nervous? Now that makes much more sense. He’s the one with the upper hand here, right?

“World works in mysterious ways babe,” Eddie casually replies before chugging the rest of the can.

Y/N furrows her brows in concentration. It is beyond unfathomable for her to accept the fact that she makes a boy, a boy like Eddie Munson no less, nervous.

“You still thinking about it,” Eddie playfully asks after Y/N’s been quiet for a moment too long.

“Yeah,” she answers truthfully.

“Silly girl, don’t worry about it.” Eddie says as he cups her cheek with his hand, the solid metal fresh against her warm cheeks.

“Have you met me? I’m genetically engineered to worry about it.”

“See, this is why I brought the beer.” Eddie makes a show of lifting the six pack.

“Whatever Munson.”

Y/N and Eddie continue to sit and talk for a little while longer. Aside from teasing each other, they talk about each other's interests and lives. Y/N learns more about Eddie’s friends and family and Eddie learns more about Y/N’s.

The more time they spend and the more they learn about each other, the more Y/N and Eddie are at ease. At a certain point, they’re no longer anxious about what the day holds but instead, excited at the possibilities.

“Can I show you something?”

“Sure.” Y/N answers. Knowing Eddie, it’ll probably be a cool rock he found on the way over or some random tree that looks like a D&D character.

But then he shakes off his jacket and goes to get his guitar case resting against the table. He takes an acoustic guitar with tape that says, “This instrument slays dragons” out. He moves to sit on top of the table, facing Y/N and looks down at her.

“What’s this?” Y/N asks curiously.

“A little something something.”

“You know that tells me absolutely nothing right?”

“It’s called the element of surprise, Y/N. Come on, you're the chemistry nerd here, you should know better.”

Y/N groans, “Oh god, what kind of dad joke Eddie? This is a new low, even for you.”

Eddie laughs as he tunes the guitar.

“Did you write me a song?” Y/N teases.

“You wish,” Eddie chuckles.

“Did you learn another Prince song?”

“Actually I’m still working on Purple Rain but it’s not ready yet.”

“Oh,” Y/N sighs and slightly pouts.

“But I do have a song for you. It’s a song I learned a long time ago, but I’ve never gotten around to playing it live.”

“Oh, why not?”

“Well it’s not really the sort of song you perform on stage.”

Y/N frowns in confusion. Little does she know, this is one of the first songs Eddie ever learned how to play on guitar. He’s never played it in front of anybody else because it’s a rather intimate kind of song. He’s never found the right audience to play it to till now.

“It’s more like a… I don’t know but you’ll understand when I play it for you.”

Eddie tunes the final strings and breathes deeply, breath resounding in the air as his chest expands. He begins delicately plucking the strings of the guitar.

The melody starts off slow. The same few chords are repeated over and over again. But then it slowly builds into a more complex chord progression that’s slightly faster. It’s sweet and serene and beautiful all at once.

The chords begin increasing in pace and Eddie’s fully lost in focus at the instrument before him. His brow adorably furrowed in concentration at his expert fingers rippling across the six strings. He bites on the edge of his lip and closes his eyes. The delicate strings bring a brightness to Y/N’s skin like sparkles rippling off the lake water.

It’s the same pattern of slow melodic chords building into the faster complex chord progression and slowing back down and starting all over again, like a cycle.

Meanwhile, Eddie himself is silent, letting the strings make all the noise. And as the song crescendos toward the end, he finishes with one final strum. He didn’t realize how heavily he was breathing till there was no other sound to mask it.

Eddie peers through his eyelashes at Y/N and her eyes are full of admiration and something else he can’t quite discern.

He lets out a breath

“Eddie, that was beautiful. I think that might be my favorite song you’ve played for me,” Y/N compliments in that sweet loving voice of hers.

“Thanks,” Eddie replies shyly as he brings his palm to rub the back of his neck.

“What song was that?”

“It’s a Black Sabbath song, called Fluff.”

“Black Sabbath? That sounded like anything but metal. And fluff? Not a very hardcore song title for a band of their caliber.”

“It’s named after this DJ who was one of the few to play their music at the time. His nickname was fluff so that’s why they called it that.”

“Hm, interesting. And they don’t sing on it at all?”

“Nope, it’s just the instrumentals of guitars and a bit of piano too.”

“Oh,” Y/N says dejectedly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just… I like it when you sing too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I like hearing your voice.”

“What,” Eddie asks, almost convinced she’s just messing with him.

“Yeah you have a nice voice,” Y/N compliments, giving him that sweet innocent smile that has Eddie’s heart making leaps and bounds through his chest.

“You mean even when I sing something like,” Eddie starts before leaning forward and whisper-singing, “I’m not your woman, I’m not your man. I am something you will never comprehend.”

He passes the guitar to Y/N and stands on the table. “Take this.”

He raises one open palmed arm to the sky and the other in a closed fist to his mouth. He continues in a loud screeching sing-song voice looking forward, “I'll never beat you. I'll never lie. And if you're evil I'll forgive you by and by, 'cause,”

He jumps down from the table next to her and Y/N shrieks. Eddie looks down and locks eyes with Y/N as he points to her, “You, I would die for you, yeah.”

Eddie moves around Y/N and climbs back onto the seat of the bench singing, “Darling, if you want me too. You, I would die for you.”

“Okay okay enough Eddie! You could’ve hurt yourself” Y/N says between fits of giggles.

“Hey, you said you wanted a performance” Eddie shrugs, grinning at her amusedly.

Y/N scrunches her face and tries to hide her smile but fails. “I most certainly did not.”

“Well, you got one anyway. You should be so lucky, they come rather sparingly.”

“Uh huh. You really took a liking to that Prince album didn’t you? How did you even get your hands on one?”

“Let’s just say the collection of Corroded Coffin’s library of music inspiration extends to our family members too.”

“Uh huh, sure. Still doesn’t explain the perfectly memorized lyrics from Hawkins’ resident metal-lover… who’s secretly Prince’s number one fan.” Y/N whispers.

Eddie looks at her and narrows his eyes, to tauntingly ask, “So what if I am? You gonna tell anyone?”

Y/N looks off to the side, then leans in while looking at Eddie, whispering, “Well, now that you mention it…”

Then she leans back and cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Attention Hawkins, Indiana, Eddie Munson, self-proclaimed metal-head, loves Prince and The Revolution.”

She moves her hands down and shakes her head back and forth, “His favorite song is–”

Eddie moves forward and claps a hand over her mouth and puts the other on her shoulder. He looks around, “Good god woman. Will you shut up?”

Eddie’s laughing and Y/N’s smiling while stifling a laugh under his hand.

Y/N yells into his hand, “Move your hand Eddie.”

“What’s that sweetheart?” Eddie mocks her. “Sorry, can’t hear you.”

Y/N tries to pry Eddie’s hand away but he’s stronger than her and keeps it firmly connected to her face till Y/N licks his palm and he instinctively retracts it.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie laughs as he looks at the palm of his hand and wipes it on his jeans.

“That’s what you get.” Y/N responds with a playful attitude.

She and Eddie laugh for a moment till she sighs and looks down at their laps. Y/N shifts her body and bends one leg along the seat. She looks down at Eddie’s twiddling fingers and then up his arms.

“You have a lot of tattoos.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “You like my tatties?”

Y/N wrinkles her nose in disgust, “Tatties? Why don’t you just call them tattoos like a normal person?”

“‘Cause they’re my tatties! And besides, what’s normal anyway?”

“I guess,” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Would you ever get any?”

“Eddie, be real, my parents would beyond kill me if I ever came home with a tattoo. In fact, I think they’d rather I have a boyfriend than a tattoo.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Yeah but in the future? After you get out of your parents house?”

“I don’t know. I think I would be too afraid of the pain. Did yours hurt?” Y/N visually inspects the ink on his pale skin.

“Not really, but it depends where you get them.”

“I don’t even think there’s anything that means enough to me to get permanently inked on my body.”

“Your tattoo doesn’t have to have some deep and philosophical meaning.”

“Do yours?”

A devilish gleam crosses Eddie’s features. “A few.”

He outstretches his forearms and twists his right one. A tattoo depicting several bats can be seen. “This one’s my Ozzy tattoo.”

Y/N looks at him puzzled.

“Ozzy Osbourne. He’s a heavy metal legend. He once bit the head off a bat onstage!”

“Oh my god,” Y/N groans in horror. “Why would he do that? That’s just a bad case of rabies waiting to happen!”

“Well, supposedly someone threw it onstage and he thought it was just a rubber bat, so that’s why he bit it. But then it turned out to be a real one and he did end up getting a fuck ton of shots for rabies but it was the most metal things ever.”

“Gross,” Y/N shakes her head.

Eddie turns his right arm over to display a weird chicken mixed with dragon looking animal tattooed on his tricep, “This one’s my wyvern tattoo.”

“Your what?”

“Wyvern, it’s a mythical creature from D&D.”

Y/N nods. “Oh.”

Eddie reaches over and hooks his right index finger around the collar of his shirt and pulls it down. Y/N gasps at the sight of the exposed alabaster skin. “This one’s a tattoo of some random demon. It’s not from D&D or anything but it looks cool, right?”

Y/N nods contemplatively.

Eddie pulls the collar further to expose a spider tattoo near his collarbone. “I got this spider one too. There’s not a lot of meaning to it either, but it looks sick right?”

Eddie releases the collar and puts his arm back down with his hands in his lap.

“What does that one mean?” Y/N points to his inner right forearm.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that one.” He extends his arm outward.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she leans over to visually assess the image on his arm.

“You can touch it, if you want.”

Y/N looks up at him, his upper eyelashes almost touching his bottom ones as he looks down at her.

“It’s ok,” he says encouragingly as he leans forward.

Y/N looks up at him then down at his arm hovering above her lap. She softly grabs his arm in her left hand and uses her right fingertips to gingerly brush over the tattoo of a… demon puppet?

“This one’s my favorite.”

“What is it?” She asks, never looking up. She continues to trace the tattoo’s outline and unknowingly send shivers down Eddie’s spine.

“I call it the puppetmaster. You see that?” Eddie points to the demon with strings attached to its arms. “This is the puppet. It’s a demon with puppet strings attached to it. But the hand above it, on the other side of the strings, is the puppet master.”

Y/N nods and touches over the parts he describes.

“It reminds me that I’m no longer the puppet. That I don’t have to conform to whatever ideals society has. That I am the puppetmaster and I pull the strings in my own life.” Eddie says proudly.

Y/N sighs dejectedly and sullenly lowers his arm.

“What is it?” Eddie looks at her with concern

Y/N shakes her head, but lets it hang low. “Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

She looks up at him and forces a smile, “I think that might be my favorite tattoo of yours too.”

Eddie looks down at her and offers a reassuring smile, unsure what to say.

Y/N scans around his tattoos then looks up into his big brown eyes. He raises his eyebrows.

“I know this might be weird but, do you think I could give you a tattoo?” She asks before digging through the front pocket of her backpack.

“No, that’s not weird at all.”

“I mean I would just draw something on your skin,” she remarks as she pulls an ink pen out. “It’ll wash away.”

“I wouldn’t mind if it didn’t.” Eddie looks at her endearingly.

“Here’s a blank canvas,” Eddie says as he outstretches his left arm, free from any ink.

Y/N softly grabs his arm with both her hands and inspects his arm. She runs her fingers back and forth as she thinks about what she’ll draw.

She looks up at him sheepishly, then looks back down to press the ballpoint pen to the soft skin on the underside of his arm. She draws harsh lines and angles, the dark black ink contrasting his milky white skin.

“Okay, done.” Y/N says as she moves the pen away.

“What is it?”

“It’s the chemical structure of dopamine.”

“Dopamine huh?” Eddie slowly nods.

“Yeah, it’s a hormone. The feel-good hormone so to speak. It plays a role in a lot of different things like memory, motivation, or sleep. But it's most famous for its ability to give you the sensation of pleasure.”

“Huh,” Eddie smirks at her, “So what exactly is the meaning behind this tattoo?”

“Well I wanted to do something chemistry related, for obvious reasons–”

“Obviously,” Eddie mocks her.

“Shut up,” she laughs, “And dopamine is… kind of a provocative hormone when you think about it, you know. So what’s more hardcore and metal than provocation?”

“Solid choice,” Eddie laughs, heart fluttering at the notion that he has a piece of her with him now.

“Can I do another?”

“Have at it princess,” Eddie smiles with glee, satisfied at how much fun Y/N is having with this.

Y/N’s eyes brighten and she returns her gaze back to his arm. She moves upward and begins drawing.

She draws a picture of a heart with swords running through it. Next to that one, she draws a small cassette tape and a few roses throughout. She blows on the ink to let it dry and Eddie makes a hiss sound as he inhales sharply.

“What?” Y/N looks up at him with eyes the size of golfballs, worried she might’ve hurt him.

“Nothing,” he replies tensely as he shakes his head.

Y/N looks at him unconvincingly before turning his arm over.

“You boutta give me a whole sleeve or something?” Eddie teases.

“Would that be a bad thing?” Y/N arches a brow at him.

“No, no. Just wondering.”

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know when it’s finished,” Y/N says as she turns her concentration back to her work of art.

She draws a snake that slithers up and around his arm. She continues back on his forearm and as the focal piece, she draws a picture of him playing guitar with large angel wings behind him and an intricate spider web surrounding his figure. She outlines his long wild hair, signature jacket, and precious electric guitar he taught her how to play on.

“Damn, this is incredible,” Eddie admires her work as she finished up.

Y/N smiles to herself in satisfaction.

“You know, you’re really good at this.”

“What? No, this is just…” Y/N shrugs.

“Seriously, I might just go and get this done for real after we’re done here. Why didn’t you tell me you were such an artist?”

“Because I am most definitely not.”

Eddie looks at her puzzled. “Then what do you call this?”

“A… very sophisticated doodle.”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I love to draw, doesn’t mean I’m an artist.”

“Not with that attitude it doesn’t.”

“But I don’t want to be an artist. Being an artist is impractical. This is just something I do…”

“For fun?” Eddie asks with a concerned eyebrow raised.

Y/N frowns and presses her lips into each other. “Um, yeah.”

“Do you have other drawings? Like in a sketchbook or something.”

“No, at least not one I’ve done in recent years. I used to do it a lot when I was younger, but then I came to high school and ditched the sketchbooks for textbooks.”

Eddie looks at her with pain etched in his features. “You should draw more. You’re really good at it.”

“With what time? I have more important things to be doing like working on my college applications or studying to maintain my gpa.”

“C’mon, how long did it take you to make these sophisticated doodles? Not that long right?”

Y/N doesn’t want to have this conversation. She’s had the opposite version of it with her parents many times before.

By now, she’s had it ingrained in her mind that drawing is never going to be something that can pay the bills. Drawing is just supposed to be one of those things you do for fun on the side as a hobby, if you even have the time. School comes first, always.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she grumbles as she looks down. She grabs his arm and admires her work. She lightly touches the skin and looks to see no trace of ink on her fingertips.

“But, I am finished with my masterpiece.”

“Sweet,” Eddie says as he admires her work.

“You know, in this light, your skin sort of looks like marble, I almost feel like Michaelangelo creating the Apollo.” Y/N remarks as she clicks the pen and shoves it in her backpack.

“Like the ninja turtle right?”

Y/N freezes and peers up at him. “What?”

“Michaelangelo, like the ninja turtle right?”

“What? I don’t even know what that is.”

“You’re telling me you don’t have a favorite teenage mutant ninja turtle?”

“What? No, Eddie, I’m talking about Michaelangelo, the world famous Italian renaissance artist.”

Eddie shakes his head, “Nope.”

“Seriously? The Apollo? It’s one of the most famous marble sculptures in the world. And Michaelangelo? He’s one of the most famous artists in history. This is sophomore history Eddie. How do you not–,” Y/N says, voice raising with frustration as she looks at him with disdain.

She tightens her lips and breathes in.

“How do I not know about it? Is that what you were gonna ask?”

Y/N is silent, thanks in part to the foot in her mouth. She hates when anyone else makes her feel bad for not knowing something. It's one of the worst feelings in the world for her and here she is, inflicting that feeling onto someone else.

“God, you sound just like Henderson,” he chuckles as he wipes his face with his free hand.

“What?”

“My freshman friend. I love the little shrimp but fuck, he can be such a know-it-all, just like you. You guys seriously need to get your ego checked. Just ‘cause you’re smart doesn’t make you better than everyone else.”

Y/n looks away embarrassed at his characterization and unsure how to process the observation that she’s a lot like his best albeit young friend.

For some reason, she feels herself on the verge of tears, a blanket of guilt weighing down her shoulders. It’s not like Eddie’s even mad at her, but she feels guilty for insulting him.

“Look Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you down like that.”

“It’s not about putting me down, Y/N. It’s like you have this weird sense of self-righteousness about what you know. Henderson has it too. Like there’s something wrong with someone if they’re not as quick to connect the dots.”

Y/N sighs in exasperation because she knows Eddie’s right. She nods and avoids his gaze.

“You’re right Eddie. It’s not cool. I’m sorry.” Y/N looks up at him in pain.

“You know some people have their looks, some have their athletic abilities, and some have their artistic talent,” she looks at him pointedly, “but for others like me, and I guess your friend too, all we have is our brain. I’m sorry if I insulted you Eddie, because that truly wasn’t my intention. And this doesn’t excuse it all, but I guess the reason why I do it is because when all you have is your brain, you take a lot of pride in what you know because that’s sort of all you have.”

Eddie looks at her, searching deep within her eyes. “I don’t believe that.”

“What?”

It’s my lived experience, what is there not to believe?

“You’re not just smart. You do realize that right?”

Y/N looks at him in confusion.

“You’re also insanely talented, I mean look at this,” Eddie lifts his arm. “This is crazy stuff.”

Y/N’s breath halts.

“And it’s not even what you know or what you can do; it’s who you are. You’re kind and you’re caring,” he moves his head down to meet her gaze and smiles, “And you’re beautiful, inside and out.”

Y/N looks at him quizzically before averting her gaze to the water beside her, a visual distraction from the visceral sensation of her blood pumping violently in her ears.

“Now I know you’re lying,” she says, intending it to come out teasing but releases in a condescending tone.

“You’re a smart girl, you should know that I’m not,” Eddie says with confidence.

“But despite all that, You just really need to chill out sometimes. And realize that just because you know a lot it doesn’t make you a better person.“

Y/N nods contemplatively.

Eddie follows her gaze out onto the water for a moment.

“C’mon,” Eddie slaps the table and stands up, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Eddie and Y/N climb out of their seats. Eddie grabs his jacket in one hand and reaches for Y/N’s hand with the other.

Y/N tenses slightly and looks up at him frazzled. Eddie smiles down at her, “C’mon smarty pants, let’s go on an adventure.”

Y/N and Eddie walk along a paved path bordering the lake. Y/N’s still in her head about Eddie’s words, so he makes mindless chatter to fill the air with noise. He tells her about the last show he had with Corroded Coffin or how the recent campaign went with Hellfire.

When Y/N asks about D&D, a game she’s never played before, Eddie is eager to tell her every piece of information he knows about the game.

The two walk for a while and at a certain point, the light autumn breeze picks up, making Y/N shudder.

“Here,” Eddie says as he drapes his jacket along her shoulders. “Take my jacket.”

“What about you? Aren’t you going to get cold like… that,” Y/N asks, referring to his cropped band tee shirt, letting her gaze linger a little too long at the exposed skin of his midsection.

“I’ll be fine. That’s what I’ve got you for sweetheart,” Eddie laughs as he wraps an arm around Y/N and squeezes her into his side.

She giggles and smiles into his touch, wrapping her arm around him too.

She’ll never admit it, but she loves how touchy-feely Eddie is. She’s grateful that he’s willing to initiate the contact. Y/N secretly loves to be as touchy feely as Eddie is but hates initiating physical contact. So even though she’ll never make the move, she loves that Eddie always does.

As the sky starts getting darker and after walking god knows how far, Y/N suggests they turn back. They hear a few too many rustling noises in the dense forest beside them and make a run for it back down the path.

At a certain point, they grow tired and start walking again. As they begin to approach a dock, Eddie stops and leads her to it.

“Eddie, what are you doing?”

“I wanna see the water,” Eddie says matter of factly.

He leads her to the edge and plops down cross-legged.

“Eddie.”

“C’mon, let’s enjoy the view.”

Y/N looks over her shoulder then out onto the water and back down at Eddie. “Do you trust me?”

“Barely,” Y/N grumbles as she sits down next to him. She reaches out and grabs Eddie’s hand. He looks at her in surprise.

“Don’t get too excited, Munson. This is just a precautionary measure. In case you try to throw me in there,” she nods her head to the water, “I’m dragging your ass with me.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself sweetheart,” he winks and Y/N rolls her eyes.

She looks out onto the rippling waves and breathes deeply. She squeezes Eddie’s hand and traces circles over his skin with her thumb.

The two sit in silence for a moment before Eddie asks Y/N, “Hey reach into my jacket pocket, will you?”

Y/N pulls out a carton of cigarettes and frowns in confusion.

“You mind if I…,” Eddie asks as he grabs the cigarettes from her.

Y/N looks from the cigarettes in his hand to the shy look on his face and nods.

“I also had a lighter in there too.”

Y/N pulls out the lighter and hands it to him. Eddie pulls a lone cigarette from the carton and puts it between his lips. He passes the carton back to Y/N and she stows it away in the jacket pocket.

In one swift motion, he cups his hand around the end of the cigarette and uses the other to press down on the lighter and let the flame light the cigarette.

The sight alone is enough to knock the air out of Y/N’s lungs.

“You enjoying the view,” Eddie winks at Y/N as he looks at her from the corner of his eyes.

“What?” Y/N asks with irritation and makes a show of turning her gaze forward. Her cheeks feel hot and she can feel her blood pumping loudly all throughout her body.

Eddie takes another puff in silence and Y/N focuses on admiring the view of the water before her instead of the boy beside her.

From her peripheral vision, Y/N admires Eddie’s shoulders rounded over, the way his luscious red lips perfectly pout over the cigarette butt, and the way his long chestnut waves tousle over his shoulder in the breeze.

“Wanna try?” Eddie innocently asks as he holds the cigarette over the space between their bodies.

“Huh,” Y/N looks over at him.

“I can’t remember if you said you’ve tried these or not.”

“Oh, I haven’t,” Y/N replies sheepishly despite Eddie acting like anything but the Big Bad Wolf.

“You can, you know, if you want to,” Eddie calmly gestures out for her. She looks from the cigarette between his ringed fingers to his eyes and back at the cigarette.

“Don’t think about it too much. If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” Eddie retracts his hand.

“No I-,” Y/N cuts herself off. She nervously looks at him and he cocks a single eyebrow.

“I want to know,” Y/N says but doesn’t reach out for the cigarette just yet.

“Don’t feel like you have to, okay?”

Y/N nods and zeros in her gaze on the cigarette between his fingers. “I know… I just, I want to try. I just don’t know how to do it. How do you even smoke a cigarette?”

Eddie looks at her skeptically, but shuffles closer to her. He hands out the cigarette to her. “Here, for better leverage, take it between your thumb and index finger.”

Y/N nods and takes it just like how he explained.

“Then you put it between your lips and inhale.”

Y/N looks at him with knitted brows.

“Inhale? How do I inhale? It’s blocking my airway?”

“You kind of just…,” Eddie looks between her eyes, “suck in, sort of like when you drink from a straw.”

Y/N nods, imagining how it would work in her mind.

“So you inhale and then you hold the smoke in for a bit, okay? Don’t swallow it or let it out just yet. Take it in, let yourself feel it in your body, then you can exhale it out. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Y/N cautiously brings the cigarette closer to her mouth. She stops a few inches away from her lips and looks up at Eddie.

“You can change your mind at any moment.”

Y/N shakes her head. “I'm not… Just mentally preparing is all.”

“Y/N, you’re overthinking it. Just do it, and if you don’t like it you’ll never have to do it again.”

Y/N peers up at Eddie through her curled lashes. Eddie almost swears his heart beat stops for an instant. He nods at her encouragingly.

“Okay… So I just suck, hold it in, then blow, right?”

Eddie stifles a laugh, “Yeah, exactly.”

Y/N brings the cigarette between her lips and closes her eyes. She inhales and feels the nicotine laced smoke fill her body. She can almost taste the tobacco. The smoke enters her lungs.

It feels weird in her body and makes her dizzy. It becomes too much for her to handle and before her brain can think of what to do next, her body reacts and coughs the foreign entity out.

Y/N brings a hand to her chest and continues coughing and choking on the smoke as tears begin to spring in her eyes.

Eddie pats her on the back, “Alright, easy there champ.”

Y/N passes the cigarette to Eddie and continues to cough. She lets out another stray cough before regaining her breath.

“A single drag’s not gonna kill you,” Eddie rolls his eyes light heartedly.

Y/N looks at him in disgust, “And you like that stuff?”

Eddie shrugs, “Yeah, you get used to it.”

Y/N shakes her head. “I did not like that at all, but I guess I can at least say I tried.”

Eddie claps a hand on Y/N’s shoulder blade “Yup, you sure can smarty pants.”

Before Y/N can roll her eyes or stick her tongue out at him, he adds, “I’m proud of you.”

Y/N furrows her eyebrows at him and cocks her head to the side. For someone who has a lot to be proud of, she doesn’t always feel that way or hear people say it a lot.

Coming from Eddie, over something as miniscule and trivial as smoking a cigarette, she feels her chest tighten.

“What? Why?”

“Because you overcame your fear. And because you did it for yourself, you know. Not because I said you should or because your parents said you shouldn’t. You did it for you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you almost let it kill you, but you didn’t.”

Y/N shoves her shoulder against his and he laughs. “Shut up.”

The two continue laughing and joking around till a loud clap of thunder booms above them. They look at each other and back up into the sky as streaks of lightning tinge the dark gray skies.

Y/N feels a light drop fall upon her cheek. She touches her finger to the skin and wipes it away. “Maybe we should get out of here.”

A few more scattered droplets fall into them. “What? You scared of a little water?”

“Remind me to ask you that when the rain ruins your guitar,” Y/N says as she stands up and holds out a hand for him.

“Shit, let’s go,” he grumbles as he reactively takes it and stands up.

The two start walking off the dock and the scattered drops start turning into a sprinkle. Eddie grabs her hand and picks up the pace.

The sprinkle picks up speed and heaviness as full raindrops descend from the darkening sky. Another loud clap of thunder roars above them. The two make a full on run over to the picnic table. Y/N gathers her backpack while Eddie clumsily puts the guitar back in it’s case.

“I’ve got the radio,” Y/N announces to Eddie.

“Is that everything?” Eddie asks as he scans his surroundings.

“Yeah,” Y/N confirms as another clap of thunder rumbles louder than the previous ones.

In an instant, the rain starts coming down even harder. The fat rain drops pelt against their skin.

“C’mon,” Eddie commands, hand outstretched for her. She grabs his hand and the two make a run for it across the forest.

The thunder rumbles and the rain comes down in sheets, making it difficult to see.

“Eddie,” Y/N shrieks.

“We’re almost there princess,” Eddie yells back.

They finally make it to the van and Eddie fumbles for the keys in the wet denim of his pants and opens the back door of the van and the two climb in.

Eddie shuts the doors and locks them from the inside. Y/N crawls backward a bit till her back rests against the side of the van.

They’re both sighing in relief and catching their breath from running.

Y/N looks at Eddie and his hair is damp, a few pieces stick to his skin. He looks so frazzled. He shakes his head like a wet dog and she starts laughing.

“What?” Eddie asks.

Y/N looks down at her own jeans which have scattered spots that look like polka dots. She looks at her blouse which was shielded from the rain thanks to Eddie’s jacket.

Y/N looks at Eddie who’s taking off his mud encrusted reeboks. She looks down at her own white reeboks which are equally covered in mud.

“Oh no, my shoes got all muddy,” Y/N whines as she bends forward to take them off.

“Here, I’ll do it,” Eddie says as he reaches forward and grabs Y/N’s ankle. Y/N’s frozen in his touch and shocked by the gesture.

He gingerly undoes the laces and pulls the shoe off, tucking it away next to his. He repeats the gesture with her other shoe and taps the side of her ankle.

“Done.”

“Thanks,” she shudders.

She looks up at him then down at the soaking wet fabric hugging his skin.

“Eddie, your shirts all wet.”

“Oh, yeah,” he laughs as he looks down. He scans around the van and crawls over to the corner behind the driver's seat. He plucks a piece of black and white fabric and brings it to his nose.

He peels the wet black fabric off his skin and smirks at Y/N practically gawking at his bare torso. “If you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask,”

“Oh my god Eddie,” Y/N exclaims as she averts his gaze. “That’s not what I was asking at all. I just don’t want you to get cold or sick.”

She looks back at him out of the corner of her eye and he’s still looking at her as he reaches for the dry shirt and places it over his head.

“Uh huh, sure you were sweetheart.”

“You’re so full of it Edward.”

Eddie balls up the wet fabric and throws it at her. Y/N scoffs and gives him an evil stare as she throws it back at him harder.

Eddie crawls back over to the other side of the van and sits opposite her, watching how harshly the rain pelts against the window above her. “So young jedi, what do you suppose we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N says and she shrugs off Eddie’s jacket. She can barely see outside the window behind Eddie. “Wait out the storm, I guess. It’s too bad to be driving right now.”

“You don’t have to be home for curfew yet?”

Y/N looks down at her watch, “No, it’s only 7:00.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie nods.

Eddie and Y/N sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, save for the occasional tapping of Eddie’s fingers along the carpeted van floor and the clacking of raindrops along the van windows.

Y/N looks out the window behind her and sees the darkening view of the sky. A boom of thunder roars, shaking the van, and a strike of lightning, a little too close to the window for comfort strikes and Y/N yelps.

She jumps and crawls away from the window, looking over her shoulder. She unknowingly makes her way next to Eddie and almost bumps into the other side of the van when Eddie stops her.

“Woah, easy there tiger,” Eddie taunts as he reaches a hand out and blocks Y/N. She stops and sits back on her knees.

“Oh,” she mutters as she looks at him then the window behind him.

“C’mere,” Eddie says as he pats the space next to him.

Y/N reluctantly makes her way over and sits next to Eddie with her back against the van wall. Eddie shuffles closer and wraps his arms around her.

Y/N exhales and leans into his touch. She shuffles her body to get closer to his and inhales the scent of cigarette smoke and soap on his skin and clothes.

“Hey,” Eddie says as he finger combs Y/N’s damp hair.

Y/N looks up at him. The darkness from the outside casting shadows on his face.

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” Eddie whispers.

Y/N cocks her head to the side. What kind of secret could Eddie Munson possibly have to tell her?

“I’m really glad you made me bring you out here today.”

Y/N’s jaw slackens at his admission, but then she realizes something and scoffs. “Made you? You act like you weren’t very willing and able when I asked.”

Eddie smirks and rolls his eyes. He swings her lower legs over his thighs and rubs his hand over her shin.

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Eddie, you make it sound like I begged and pleaded you to be here.”

“No, I know you didn’t but…,” Eddie trips off his words trying to be vulnerable with you for a second.

“C’mon, you know I’m right.”

“No, I–you just– urgh, you’re so not gonna make this easy on me are you?”

Y/N shakes her head, “I don’t think you want me to either.”

Eddie grips onto the flesh of her calf and grins widely, “Fuck, you’re reading me like a goddamn book Y/N.”

Y/N giggles, “Well look at who you’re talking to.”

“What? The biggest bookworm in Hawkins?”

Y/N nods with pride.

“Or maybe the smartest girl in Hawkins?”

“Well I don’t know about that—“

“How about the prettiest girl in Hawkins?”

“What?” Y/N snorts into a fit of laughter.

“I’m serious,” Eddie laughs.

“Thanks but I mean I am not the prettiest girl in Hawkins. There are far more objectively pretty girls than me.”

“Not to me there aren't.”

Y/N’s eyebrows draw inward. Her eyes narrow before she leans forward and inspects Eddie’s eyes. She uses her fingers to gently raise his lids. “Your pupils aren’t dilated. Are you sure you didn’t take something before we got here?”

“Y/N,” Eddie scolds while pulling her hands away and interlacing them with his.

“Is it so crazy for me to say something like that, sober?”

Y/N squirms under his scrutiny.

“Um, maybe just a little bit,” she pulls one hand away and raises it between their faces, finger and thumb an inch apart.

“What’s crazy to me is that you don’t believe It.”

Y/N scrunches her eyebrows, not sure what to say.

“Y/N you’re beautiful.”

Y/N flutters her eyelashes as she looks down and fights the smile trying to form on her lips.

“You know that right?”

Y/N did not in fact know that. She’d been told that by family and friends, but never by a boy. Never by a boy like Eddie.

“I um, I know that… i'm not like, you know… when you look at me it’s like… um, alright?”

“Alright? Are you sure you’re not the one that’s high?” Eddie teases, searching around her face and pulling her lids like she did.

“Eddie,” she squirms from the tickle of his touch. Eddie retracts his hand and moves it down to cup her cheek.

“I mean it. You’re so beautiful. Every time I look at you I feel like I’m looking at a goddamn work of art.”

Y/N playfully shoves Eddie’s chest. “Okay, now you’re just being dramatic.”

“I’m not,” Eddie laughs, “and I know I’m not the only one who sees you that way.”

“Um, I highly doubt that.”

“Y/N, I promise you it’s true.”

“I mean, I know that I’m beautiful, but like in my own distinct way, but not in the same kind of way other girls are beautiful. And even then, I know for a fact no one else has ever thought of me that way.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because this is the first I’m hearing it.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m the first to think it.”

Y/N blinks at him puzzled. “What?”

“You know Jeff?”

“Jeff? Jeff who?”

“Jeff, my friend from Hellfire Club. He’s also Corroded Coffin’s best guitar player, after me of course,” he whispers the last part.

“Okay,” Y/N nervously laughs, “What does Jeff have to do with any of this?” “He might’ve mentioned his little crush on you from freshman year.”

“Freshman year? What the hell are you talking about?” Y/N eyes bug out of her head.

“Apparently you two were in the same math class together with some weird teacher who had crazy glasses.”

“Oh, yeah I remember that.”

“Jeff said you guys sat next to each other and he was always bothering you for help on his homework. He said he would even copy off your test sometimes.”

“Wait, oh my god, that Jeff? I fucking knew it! I knew he was cheating off of me! I swear Eddie, I could always feel him watching me or leaning over kind of closely whenever we had a test and I even asked him about it but he completely denied it.”

Eddie laughs at her admission.

“He had a crush on me?”

“Yup.”

“No way, you must be lying.”

“I’m not! And I doubt he was either. He said you had his heart the moment you taught him polynomials.”

“What? I feel like you’re just making this up Eddie. It’s not funny,” Y/N jokes.

“True story babe, you can ask him yourself.”

“Why didn’t he ever say anything?”

“I didn’t know him back then, but Jeff’s pretty shy, I can only imagine how much more he must’ve been as an anxious little freshman. And according to him, his little heart couldn't take being rejected by the insanely smart and beautiful girl who even bothered to give him the time of day.”

“What? That just doesn’t make sense. I really doubt he said any of that.”

“He really did. Cross my heart princess.” Eddie says as he crosses over his chest with his index finger.

“Do guys really even talk about stuff like this?”

“On occasion,” Eddie shrugs.

Does that mean Eddie has talked to his friends about her? How else would she have come up in conversation? Unless Eddie was lying, but then how else could he have known the exact details of their time in class that only she and Jeff would know?

Eddie looks at Y/N, whose brows are furrowed so deeply in concentration. He finds it so adorable to just watch her think. He sometimes wishes he could become miniature sized and just crawl inside her brain to see the sort of madness that goes on in there.

“What are you thinking about?”

Y/N looks up at him and her brows relax.

“Don’t tell me you’re reconsidering Jeff now. I don’t think I could take it if you left me for him,” Eddie pouts his lip and playfully whines.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “You wish you were half the man Jeff is.”

Eddie laughs and holds her tighter, interlacing his fingers and caging her in his hold. Y/N shifts her torso slightly and rests her head on his shoulder, placing a hand on his chest.

She sighs, “Eddie.”

“What is it sweetheart?”

“What do you think will happen if the rain doesn’t stop?”

“I don’t know, guess we’ll be stuck here,” he says with a smile.

She looks up at him, “Eddie, this isn’t funny.”

“I know it’s not,” he says. As he caresses her cheek with the back of his finger.

“Then why are you smiling?”

He shrugs, “Because, if I’m gonna be stuck here, there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with.”

Y/N’s grateful for the darkness and the way it hides her raging blush. Her lips threaten to curl up into a smile as heat radiates through her chest.

She almost wants to tease him. On the tip of her tongue she has the words, “Aw, that was sweet Eddie. Sickeningly sweet in fact, I think I might just go throw up now” or the ever sarcastic, “Not even Ozzy Osbourne?”, locked and loaded, but something in her won’t let her pull the trigger.

Maybe it’s the fact that she feels the same way even though her pride won’t let her say it. But it could also be that for the first time in her life, she isn’t experiencing the usual resistance she gets whenever she starts to develop feelings for someone. In fact, she feels something right now. She’s not quite sure what it even is but all she knows is that it’s intense and she’s never felt it before but she likes it, a lot.

She feels something for Eddie and normally her feelings would be something to shy away from or to poke fun at, but now they’re here to stay. And for the first time, she feels like she can fully embrace them. And now, the only thing left to do, is to finally do something about them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @dotslabyrinth @aedicn @fancyghosttrashhero-blog

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst ##stranger things fanfic #stranger things #st4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #urfavstargirl1

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reallydumbdannyphantomaus · 2 years ago

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Danny, Paulina, and Valerie investigate Kwan. It doesn't quite go the way any of them expected. (ao3)

Chapter 5

Loop 4

Danny wasn’t sure if his burgeoning headache had more to do with sleep deprivation, stress, or Paulina and Valerie’s constant fighting. Whatever the case might have been, the pressure behind his eyes was becoming difficult to ignore.

He just wanted this day to be over.

But, unfortunately, he had to agree with Paulina: it wasn’t going to be Kwan. Partway through freshman year, he’d seen Kwan go through a dramatic change. He couldn’t believe that that was all some years-long act leading to this. It just didn’t make any sense.

Still, Valerie was insistent that they check Kwan first. It probably had more to do with pissing off Paulina than any actual belief that Kwan was the culprit, but Val was stubborn, and she held grudges.

(Danny knew that all too well.)

“Val,” he said as they headed back toward Paulina’s pink convertible, “a word?”

Valerie hung back. “If this is about the fighting—”

“It is.”

“—I’m sorry. I know it has to be annoying. Paulina just…” Valerie bit her lip.

Ahead of them, Paulina had reached the car and was staring at them. Danny waved her off. Paulina glared, tapping her wrist where a watch would be. Valerie rolled her eyes.

“Paulina just drives me nuts, is all.”

“Look, I know you two aren’t friends anymore,” Danny said, “and I know she hurt you back when… y’know.”

“What, when my dad lost his job and we lost our house and then all my friends abandoned me because I wasn’t rich anymore?” Valerie snorted. “No, she didn’t hurt me at all. I’m glad, actually. I got to see her true colors before it was too late.”

“Valerie.”

“Seriously, Danny, I’m over that. I’m better off without them.”

“Okay, okay. But, for right now, the three of us need to work together. So hate Paulina all you want, but you have to stop coming after Paulina anytime she does anything.”

“I have not—”

“You pushed her out a window when she took a few seconds too long.”

“Okay, but we needed to move—”

“She gave us info on the AP Gov students and you got angry.”

“I mean, it’s a little creepy.”

“Hey!” Paulina yelled from across the street where the car was parked. “We’re on a schedule, losers!”

Danny watched Valerie’s hackles raise in real time and put a hand on her shoulder before she could shout back. “Listen. You don’t have to forgive her. I can’t blame you for that because what she did was absolutely messed up. But you gave up your secret in the hopes that it would help save the world. Can’t you let go of a grudge?”

Valerie took a deep breath. Another. And another. “I don’t know if I’d ever forgive her,” she said, clenching and unclenching her fists. “She never gave me a chance to, even. She still hasn’t apologized for anything.”

Danny squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Even if she isn’t.”

She laid her hand over his. “Thanks, Danny.” She smiled at him. “You’re a good friend. I promise, I’ll do my best to calm down about Paulina. I still want to check on Kwan, though.”

“Of course you do.”

“I just—his whole turnaround is a little suspicious, don’t you think?”

“I think that if you still can’t forgive Kwan after all this time, then you definitely wouldn’t forgive Paulina.”

“Seriously!” Paulina yelled again. “You two can make out after you save the world!”

“You would be able to see if we were making out!” Valerie yelled back.

Danny raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? That was a fair hit.”

Danny huffed a laugh. “C’mon,” he said, “let’s go before she blows her cap even more.”

He stepped toward the road, but Valerie pulled him back into a hug.

“I missed you,” she whispered in his ear.

Danny smiled. It really had been too long since they hung out. “I missed you, too.”

Paulina honked the horn. “Sometime today would be nice!”

“Coming!” Danny and Valerie yelled.

----

“After all the shit you gave me about not taking this seriously,” Paulina said, glaring at Valerie in the rearview window. “You guys wasted so much time!”

Valerie’s eyes flashed and she opened her mouth, then sighed and shook her head. “Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I know.”

What? Paulina blinked and focused her eyes back on the road. She wasn’t sure what to do with a Valerie that suddenly wasn’t at her throat. “Right,” she said. “So long as you know.”

She looked in the mirror again just in time to see Valerie roll her eyes, but otherwise she was silent.

What had Fenton said to her?

“So what’s the plan?” Fenton said from the passenger seat. It hurt Paulina’s soul a little to let the dweeb sit there, but between him and Valerie, who she didn’t completely trust not to claw her eyes out while driving, he was the obvious choice. She could’ve put them both in the back, but then she’d look like their chauffeur. No, thank you.

“Well,” she said, “first we can check Kwan’s locker to see if it has the key or the Crown. Then, when it doesn’t, I’ll manufacture some excuse to check his bag. It won’t be there either. And then he’ll be in the clear.” She hoped none of her nervousness showed in her voice. That last text from Kwan skipped in her head like a broken record.

No, she thought. Kwan would never. She knew Kwan. Of all her friends, he was the best. The kindest.

“What if he stashed it somewhere else?” Valerie said. Damn her for bringing up a valid point.

“I don’t think so,” Fenton said. “Whoever it is, they’d want to keep the Crown close to them. Somewhere only they’d have access. If they were smart enough to set this whole thing up, they’d be smart enough to keep the Crown close by. The key, too, now that I think about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the key is pretty much the only thing that could stop Pariah Dark. We need it and the Crown if we want to have any hope of surviving. Whoever let Pariah out would know that, most likely, and plan for it. Keep it close by.”

“So just checking Kwan’s stuff for the key and Crown? That’s our plan?”

“It’s simple, but I think it’ll work.”

“But if this person wants to end the world,” Paulina said, brow furrowed, “why didn’t they just give the ghost king dude the Crown right away? Why wait?”

“Maybe there’s something special about today,” Valerie said, leaning forward in her seat. “Maybe they wanted to make sure the world ended at just the right time.”

Paulina racked her brain, trying to remember if something had happened to Kwan on this day before. She couldn’t remember anything in particular about February 7th involving Kwan. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel. That was good, right? If the date mattered, then it wouldn’t make any sense for it to be Kwan.

(Unless there was something she didn’t know.)

No. No. It would be fine. She’d check Kwan’s bag during lunch. Valerie and Danny could watch it then and see that there was nothing bad in there, and then they’d move on to dealing with the real suspects. Like that annoying goth weirdo, Manson.

She pulled into the school parking lot. It would be fine, she told herself, as she got out of the car. Totally fine.

----

Kwan wasn’t at lunch.

Paulina hadn’t noticed it the first few loops, but thinking back, he hadn’t been at lunch any of the Tuesdays so far.

“Probably giving the Crown to Pariah right now,” Valerie said, arms crossed. Even Fenton was starting to look suspicious.

Paulina couldn’t even refute them. Her mouth was too dry.

She moved through the rest of the day in a haze. Kwan couldn’t be the one. He just couldn’t. Kwan was the best of her friends. Way nicer than Dash. Nicer than her, too. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

She went to each of Kwan’s classes. He wasn’t in his fifth period class. Or sixth. Come seventh period, Paulina had thrown up three times. Her mouth tasted like something had died in it. Her heart felt ready to burst. Even Valerie was giving her concerned looks.

Paulina didn’t want to think about how bad she looked if she’d earned Valerie’s pity.

Seventh period English with Mr. Lancer. Paulina, Valerie and Fenton each took their seats with mute dread.

A couple minutes before the bell rang, Kwan burst in, face flushed. “Made it,” he said with a grin.

(He’d been in seventh period the first few loops, too. He’d been breathing heavily, like he’d just run from the parking lot. Why didn’t she notice before?)

He held his backpack out in front him with an odd sort of reverence. As he took his seat behind her, Paulina wanted to scream.

How could you? How could you? How could you?

But Paulina was a good actress. She knew exactly how to be the perfect little girl her mami demanded, after all. She knew how to manipulate Dash into carrying her bags whenever she went shopping. She knew exactly how to piss Valerie off. She could talk to Kwan.

“So,” she said, “Kwannie. Tell me about this surprise.”

He grinned at her, crooked. “Wouldn’t be much of a surprise.” His fingers drummed on the desk. “Kinda nervous, though.”

“Does it have something to do with your bag?” she said. “You seem awfully protective of it.”

Kwan flushed. Bingo.

“Lemme see!” she said, reaching down.

Kwan pulled the bag away. “No! It’s not for you.”

Paulina scowled. What, so she was just collateral damage in whatever weird grudge he had? They were supposed to be friends.

Behind Kwan’s head, Fenton was gesturing to the backpack. Kick it, he mouthed.

“C’mon!” she said. “We’re friends, right?”

And she kicked the bag.

Harder than she’d meant to, even. It skidded past Fenton, colliding with the closet in the back of the room with a soft thunk.

Oops.

“Paulina!” Kwan rushed over to the bag. “What the hell?”

She ran behind him, conscious that every eye in the classroom was now on them. She didn’t see them, but she knew Fenton and Valerie were following her as well. Somewhere behind her, she heard Mr. Lancer admonishing her, but she didn’t process it. All she could focus on was Kwan, bending down. Kwan, opening his backpack. Kwan, pulling out…

… a foil covered tray.

Kwan, tears in his eyes.

“I made them this morning but I didn’t have time to decorate,” he said, sniffling. “Mom said I could come back during lunch and get it done in time for class.”

He pulled off the foil and there it was. A tray of slightly smashed cupcakes, frosting smeared all over the foil.

“Kwan…” she said. She didn’t know what to say. Relief buckled her knees, and she collapsed to the ground next to him.

“I put little stars on them,” he said. “It took me forever. I was gonna give them to…” His eyes flicked over to Star. “Well, I was gonna ask someone to the movies.”

“Oh.” That was Valerie, behind Paulina. Paulina turned to look at her and spotted tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “That’s. That’s sweet, Kwan.”

Fenton heaved a sigh. “Fuck me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Paulina said, covering her mouth with her hand. “I didn’t realize.”

“Mr. Huang,” Lancer said, “Is everything alright?”

Kwan scrubbed at his eyes. “Y—yeah. Yeah.”

“Kwan,” Paulina whispered. Guilt settled in her stomach like a stone. She was almost glad the world would end again soon.

“It’s okay, Polly. I didn’t need this many, anyway,” he said with a wet laugh. “Mr. Lancer, I think I have enough for the whole class to have a cupcake, if that’s alright?”

Lancer rubbed the crown of his head. “Of course, Mr. Huang. Very kind of you, considering… well. Ms. Sanchez, help him pass them out.”

“Okay,” Paulina said, voice small. She grabbed the tray and held it out to Fenton, and then Valerie. She saw the same dawning horror in each of their eyes: they’d failed, again. The world would end soon.

And all they’d done was smash some cupcakes.

All she’d done was hurt her friend.

She took the tray up and down the aisles, leaving one on each desk. She couldn’t look at Star, opting to stare at the floor as she put a cupcake in front of her. She gave one to Lancer as well, before at last putting the tray on Kwan’s desk, three left.

“Hey,” Kwan said, “you forgot yourself.”

He pulled one out and handed it to her. The icing was messy, but she could still see where what used to be yellow stars ringed the confection.

“C’mon,” he said, grinning. “You gotta tell me if they’re any good or not.”

The tears that had been building finally broke free of her eyes. She took a bite.

Sweet. Tangy. The cupcakes were strawberry flavored: Star’s favorite. Cream cheese frosting. Delicious.

She sobbed.

“Hey, hey,” Kwan said. “Seriously, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

Behind them, Fenton gasped. The green glow appeared in the window.

Paulina loved Kwan very, very much.

“I’m happy we’re friends,” she said, smiling through her tears.

The green light was getting closer. Kwan would never remember this, but she couldn’t bear the thought that this version of Kwan would die without her having said this.

“Kwan, I’m so happy we’re friends!”

The world exploded.

Loop 5

Paulina awoke 15 minutes before her alarm.

There was so much to do. They still needed to find the person who let Pariah Dark out. They had a whole list to work through. They had to stop the apocalypse.

Kwan didn’t deserve to die like that. None of them did.

Her head hurt.

Her heart hurt.

She curled around her pillow and sobbed.

#danny phantom #dpau #danny fenton #paulina sanchez #valerie gray #kwantent #this chap at least. lmao #reset #time loop fic #my fic #i know i know i updated super fast #very unlike me #but i desperately wanted to get to this scene #so here! have at ye!

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iwadori · 4 years ago

Note

are you going to do a 'when the haikyuu boys make you insecure' part with Iwaizumi / could I request that?

When they make you insecure part 6 (Iwaizumi,Matsukawa)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

masterlist

AN: Did I embedd myself in this story? Yes, yes i did. :3 (it’s only a small part dw loool)

Iwaizumi

One day when you were walking to the gym to go see your boyfriend

You overhear him and the team talking about some instagram girl

“She’s hot” you hear Boktuo yell doing a hoot as he fawns over a picture, with the rest of the guys agreeing.

“What do you think Iwaizumi?” Hinata ask

“She’s cute... I guess?” the rest of the guys, grunt in disagreement at Iwa’s lack of drooling over the girl.

“Well I see why you wouldn’t want her Haji-kun,” says Atsumu “you are into the more simple girls bro”

“Simple?” Iwaizumi questions, and the rest of the guys agree

“Yeah simple, you know Y/N... she’s simple” says one of the guys, with the word ‘simple’ rolling off their tounge with a tone of disgust.

“I guess your right guys...” Iwaizumi says “Y/N is pretty basic and simple but-”

You leave the gym before you hear what the rest of them had to say. When you got to your house you bolt straight to the mirror, you look at your outfit and frown. You never thought your style was ‘basic,’ to be fair you wouldn’t describe anybodys style as basic or simple. Of course, you weren’t like those instagram influencers, that wasn’t your thing. But Iwa has known that about you for years... but I guess that’s not what he truly likes.

You go to your closet and take out all the contents, just tossing all your clothes (even some of your favourite items ever) and dashing them in a black trash bag putting them to the side. You were already on a mission to buy a whole new wardrobe, going through all different stores and looking on pinterest for inspo.

You didn’t really talk to Iwa for the rest of the week, since you wanted him to see you in your ‘new form,’ you weren’t being radiosilent but you didn’t initiate any hang outs with him or face time calls (which he did find slightly odd, but didn’t think that much by it.)

Finally, the clothes came and you were kind of shocked at how much you ordered you spent over £200 on clothes from all different places. When you were trying them on, you liked some of them the ones that were kind of similar to your past style but not so ‘simple,’ the others you kind of frowned at since it definitely didn’t feel like ‘you’ at all. ‘This is for Iwa,’ you reminded yourself as your forced a smile on your face analysing yourself in the mirror.

You had everything sorted, your wardrobe was now changed and done the colours and styles you once wore before is now the complete opposite. You invited Iwa over, hesistantly waiting to see how would he react.

When you hear your door knock, you rush over to open it and model a pose you saw one of those girl do trying to look as natural as possible.

“Hey babe ho-” he says, with his eyes widening seeing your new look “Woah Y/N!”

“Hey Haji..come in!” you exclaim with a beaming smile pulling him inside to the couch. “So, are we going to continue watching the crown, I watched the previous episode and god prince phillip is such a dick.”

You look over your shoulder and see Iwa still standing in your entranceway a bit awkwardly, looking a bit stunned. “Come sit down then, we’ve got an episode to watch.”

“uh oh yeah, sure” he says blinking, following you to the couch.

You got through atleast 4 episodes together, you barely talked as you were really engrossed in the show. Iwa was barely paying attention, he was too busy questioning how you were acting. This definitely wasn’t the girl he knew, even the way you were acting whilst watch the show was odd. The way you’d cutely giggle and ‘sublty’ look over to him whilst laughing at a funny part of the show instead of just doing your usual obnoxious laugh that he loved to hear.

“Oh Y/N, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” he says standing up, you don’t reply you just wave your hand in acknowledgement.

On his way to the bathroom, Iwa nearly trips on a black bag left outside your bedroom door. He opens it, and mildly gasped when he saw all your old stuff jumbled up in there. He picks up the back and goes straight back to the living room and stands in front of you.

“Haji, what are you doing you’re blocking the TV” you complaining trying to see what’s happening behind him.

He drops the black bag infront of you and you internally curse yourself for not moving. You stare at him waiting for him to say something.

“Well whats this then.” he says looking down at you, almost like a disapproving dad.

“Clothes.” you say smartly, knowing what he was asking.

“You know what I meant Y/N, why are all your clothes in a garbage bag.”

“Because I wanted to put them there,” you wanted to seem as nochalant about it as possible as if putting all your clothes in a garbage bag doesn’t make you feel sad.

“Yeah but why?” he says sitting down next to you.

“Just because I wanted to” you reiterate “what else do you want me to say?”

“Well this isn’t like you, its just a bit random Y/N” he says

“I know this isnt like me you” you spat, standing up “Isn’t this what you wanted anyways.” You head to your bedroom picking up the bag with you, with Iwa hot on your heels.

“What do you mean this is what I wanted?” he says in disbelief “When did I ever say that?”

“It doesn’t matter” you mumble, you start to aggressively take our your old clothes and shove them back into your wardrobe whilst Iwa is just talking. You’re not really listening to him your just putting the clothes back.

“Y/N Stop!” he yells kind of knocking you out of your ‘trance,’ “what is going on with you?” he grabs you hands and pulls them down stopping you from what you were doing and he winced at seeing your tear stricken face.

He gently pulls you into his arms sitting you both on your bed, waiting for you to speak. “I don’t know what you want from me Iwa..” you start your voice slightly breaking “it’s just I did this all for you and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what you mean Y/N?” he says sounding genuinely confused.

“Y/N is simple and basic.” you say repeating words that you heard your boyfriend say about you, you feel him tense as you say it and you slowly get out of his hug.

“Y/N I-”

“That really hurt Hajime, I know now that I'm not your ‘type’ but I-”

“No Y/N, you are my type of course you are!” he says gulping in nervousness “I love you, and your style. I’ve always being enamored by how you dress and present yourself and I don’t know why I even said you’re basic and simple I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Really?” you say sniffling looking down

“Yes really you idiot,” he says lifting your head up “To be fair I don’t care what you wear, since you look great in anthing I just want you to be happy Y/N and especially not dress for anyone including me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree slightly nodding your head.

“Good, so can we go and finish the crown and then burn all these clothes?” Iwa jokes as he stands up.

“Burn them!” you exclaim “These cost £200, you muppet.”

“£200! Gosh Y/N, next time you go shopping im definitely coming with you.” he says shaking his head “can’t have you blowing out your bank account for clothes you don’t even like that much.”

You spend the rest of the day finishing of The Crown and you and Iwa eventually both sort out your wardrobe. Your style and aethetic changes a lot more through the times you were together and Iwa was very supportive and helpful of every single change. Especially *insert your favourite dress aesthetic here.*

Matsukawa

You were walking with your friends; Iwa, Tooru, Maki and your boyfriend Matsun. Walking to school as you did every morning, today the topic of conversation was Tooru’s bad taste in women.

“Gosh yesterday was horrible, she didn’t want to talk to me at all,” he complained “all she wanted to do was to come straight to my place, I didn’t even have the chance to tell her my hair routine.”

“That’s why you don’t find dates off of Tinder shittykawa” grunted Iwaizumi

“Well I know that now!” he exclaimed.

“Y/N,” said Makki grasping your attention “Would you ever use Tinder?”

“Well I-”

“Of course she wouldn’t” your boyfriend interrupted wrapping his arm round your shoulder “she’s got me”

“Yeah, but if you two weren’t together, would you use it.”

“Well may-”

“Y/N definitely wouldn’t” he said interrupting you AGAIN “she’s way to frigid for that shit”

Frigid? You thought to yourself, ouch. Their was a quick awkward silence and all you could hear was Matsukawa laughing with the others laughing after awkwardly in pursuit. After sensing your uncomfortability (is that a word?) Oikawa decides to change the subject to make things less awkward,

“I need a woman who understands me!” he rants “One that can listen to me and appreciate my awesome hair.”

“Goodluck with that Shittykawa.”

Oikawa rambles on as you walk to school with the other guys chiming in. You on the other hand, were lost in thought. Your sex life wasn’t something you would want to publicly talk about let alone to you and your boyfriends' male friends. Also, with Matsun describing you as ‘frigid’ struck a nerve. You weren’t frigid, well at least to you, you weren’t.

When you got to school you immediately rushed straight to your lesson claiming that you teacher really needed to talk to you. Which was odd to Matsukawa as you usually all hung around each other until the bell rang, the other boys gave each other knowing looks all assuming the reasons for your odd behaviour.

At lunch time, you stayed in your class instead of going up to the roof where you and your friends usually end up. In the class room you hear one of the girls in your class, Empress having one of her usual gossip conversations with her group of friends.

“Hajime is so hot!” she said, fanning her face being dramatic

“Of course he is! You should totally go for him.” her friend said and the rest of the friends agreed.

“What do you think Y/N?” she says to you catching your attention “you’re close friends with him right?”

“Yeah, I am” you say a bit sadly “You should definitely go for him, I think you’d be perfect together.”

“Okay! I think I might later” she says smiling. Her and friends leave, but then Empress returns and walks straight to you.

“Are you alright doll?” she asks softly smiling

“I guess so..” you say hesitantly “It’s just something my boyfriend said to me this morning.”

“Matsun?” she asks and you nod in reply “What did he say?”

After you rehash the situation from this morning Empress scowls in annoyance, “Boys can be such pigs sometimes, such a dick thing to say.”

“I know right!” you respond “Even if I was frigid, which im totally not it’s not even a bad thing nor is it something to reveal to people in public in a ‘jokey’ way.”

“Yeah!” she agrees “I think you should go and give him a piece of your mind.”

“I mean...” your voice falters, when it comes to Matsun you’ve never really given him a ‘piece of your mind,’ even when he makes jokes that you’re not so fond of.

“Come on!” she encourages “I’ll come with you and cheer you on.”

“You just want to come to see Iwa Empress” you say pointedly “But fine let’s go.”

You both power walk to the roof where you see the four seijoh boys sitting down and eating. “Oh hi Y/N/-chan and look Iwa its Emp-chan... isn’t that a surprise!” Iwa blushes and the rest of the guys laugh.

You walk straight up to Matsun and stand right infront of him. “Matsukawa I need to talk to you,” you say folding your arms. “Why whats up babe?” he says, still sitting down with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alone.” you say turning around walking to a secluded spot. Behind you, you hear Matsun get up and the rest of the boys saying “oooh Matsukawa your in trouble” as they laugh.

“What’s wrong with you today Y/N?” he asks slightly accusatorily.

“I didn’t appreciate the comment you made today on the way to school,” you say with your arms folded.

“Oh that little comment about you being frigid, come on it was just a joke I wasn’t being serious.” he says lightly laughing but he stops once he sees the glare you give him ”you knew it was a joke right?”

“Matsun, some are your jokes just aren’t funny,” you say “especially when they're about me and our sex life in front of our friends too.”

“Y/N I didn’t mea-”

“You just come off as a huge dick sometimes, and I can’t do this anymore if you keep on making these comments anymore I don’t think I can do this.”

“Woah Y/N, are you threatening to break up with me?” he asks “Over a few little comments?”

“These aren’t a few little comments, sometimes what you say is just unnecessary and rude.”

“Okay well...”

“Well...” you repeat staring at him waiting for to apologise or atleast say something, “fuck you Matsukawa.”

You storm away and walk bout to the group saying “Empress lets go.” She jumps of Iwa’s lap and waves by to them following you back down to the school. You walk into the bathroom and just start to cry, “Y/N whats wrong?” Empress says pulling you into a hug

“H-He doesn’t care,” you cry “He pretty much excused his stupid comments, passing them off as little ‘jokes,’ that didn’t apparently mean anything.”

“Oh dear,” Empress says consoling you “he’s not worth your time right now.”

“B-but but I love him.” you wail fat tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” she says letting go of the hug “so what do you wanna do about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say “I don’t want to break up with him or anything, but is there a point in staying if he’s just going to make these comments again.”

“I don’t know Y/N, but whatever you wanna do I’ll support. Wether it’s keying his car or reading shitty fanfiction and crying.” Empress says making you laugh.

The final bell rings and now it's time to go home, of course you don’t walk with the guys so you just enjoy your own company walking home.

“Y/N! Y/N!” you hear from behind you and of course the only person it can be is Matsukawa.

“What do you want?” you mumbled

“I..I want too” he says heaving out of breath from the running he had to do “I want to apologise. I need do.”

“Okay...” you respond

“Im sorry, Im so so sorry,” he says “those jokes and comments were stupid and I agree I can be a dick sometimes. Well a lot of the time, but I never wanted to be a dick to you.”

“Well you were.”

“I know I was, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse what I said and what I have said before I just hope I can make it up to you.”

“Okay then.”

“So are we not broken up?”

“No we’re not broken up, but it’ll take a lot of making up to do for me to fully forgive you.”

“Great! And I'll spend every day to get you to forgive me.”

Which he did, he spent every day showering you with love and affection. He was way better than he was before, you even went on double dates with Oikawa and his flavour of the week and triple dates with Iwa and his girlfriend. Matsukawa, although he still made jokes, he never targeted them and centered them around you in an insulting way.

AN: I didn’t really like the matsukawa one since i couldn’t really write for him properyl sooo sorry bout that one kids.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu scenarios #haikyu headcanons #haikyu #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa angst #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa oneshot #signedwithane😌

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scuttling · 3 years ago

Text

If I Should Linger

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,979 (what is wrong with me??) Tags: 18+, NSFW, Best Friend's Dad Hotch, Confident reader, Flirting, Oral sex, Protected sex, Dirty talk, A little angst with a happy ending Summary: Your best friend stands you up at the bar, but it actually turns into the best night you've had in a long time—maybe the best night of your life. Unfortunately, things don't stay uncomplicated for long... *Requested by @hotforhotchner11 Link to A03 or read below! “I can’t believe you stood me up to have sex with a frat boy,” you hiss into your phone from your seat at the bar. Your best friend Julie—better known as Jay—is on the other end, and she’s completely ruining your plans for the evening at later than the last minute. She’s never on time for anything.

“He’s not a frat boy… yet. He’s rushing.” You pick up your gin and tonic to take a sip, but her comment makes you pause.

“He’s rushing? How old is he?” The breath she blows out before she answers tells you everything you need to know. Goddamn cradle robber.

“Twenty? Or, almost twenty.”

“Oh, you nasty girl. He’s nearly ten years younger than us.” At 28, you literally could not imagine being interested in a 20 year old. Anyone under 25 is practically an infant; what would you talk about?

“The pussy wants what it wants, babe. It’s more fun when they barely know what they’re doing.” Then again, you figure, she isn’t exactly doing much talking.

“That’s gross, Jay.”

“Is it any grosser than your thing for older guys? You’d fuck my dad if I let you anywhere near him, which is exactly why I don’t.”

“I would not fuck your dad—actually, what does he look like?” She groans down the line and you laugh. “I’m kidding. I’m trying to fuck someone’s dad tonight, but not yours.” You hear a choked laugh from beside you and you glance over at, objectively, one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen: he’s Black, bald, muscular, with a neatly trimmed goatee and a killer smile, and apparently your thirst for older men amuses him. You smile back. “Jay, I have to go; I’m embarrassing myself in public.”

“Okay, and what else is new? Bye!” When she hangs up, you lock your phone and turn to face the man at the bar.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget people are actually listening in places like these; there’s so much talking it’s all kind of white noise to me.”

“It’s kind of my job to listen to what no one else does, but I forget to turn it off sometimes,” he says, and no, that’s not intriguing or anything. “So you’re into older guys?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, and you lean in with your chin in your hand, elbow on the bar.

“Almost exclusively. You don’t look old enough to be someone’s dad, but I’d probably make an exception.” He laughs again; he doesn’t have a drink, so maybe he’s waiting for the bartender, but you sip yours.

“I’m flattered, but taken. I have a friend who’s probably your type; he doesn’t do one night stands, though. He doesn’t really do anything. We’re trying to loosen him up.” You hum thoughtfully, take a cursory glance around the room.

“I happen to be great at loosening older men up. Is he here?” He shoots you a smile, looks at you like you kind of amaze him.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Would you, if you weren’t taken?” He nods a little, like you’ve got a good point, and you both laugh. “Yeah, it’s a double standard. If you can walk up to a woman and ask her if it hurt when she fell from heaven, why can’t I walk up to an older man and ask if he believes in love at first sight, or if I should walk by again?”

“That tired line would not work on my friend,” he says, and you grin.

“I think you’d be surprised. But, you know him better, so why don’t you just invite me back to your table, since I got stood up by my friend and I’m all alone, and let me do my thing?” You swirl your straw in your drink, try to look flirty, and he leans in on his elbow like you did before.

“You know what? What the hell. If nothing else, he gets some attention from a pretty girl and maybe it boosts his confidence.” You smile—you like this guy already.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He rolls his eyes, and then the bartender presents him with his drinks. You take two—one is a neat bourbon, that has to belong to the older man friend—and follow him to his table while he just shakes his head.

“Looks like you brought back more than drinks,” a pale woman with dark hair and bangs says with a smile when the two of you approach the table. He hands her one of the beers, takes the cocktail from your hand and gives it to a petite blonde with fair skin.

“Her friend bailed on her and we got talking at the bar, so I invited her to come sit with us.” You introduce yourself to the group, and the friend Derek mentioned might be your type? Egregious understatement.

He’s everything you like in an older man: polite, well-spoken, handsome, clean shaven, with a great head of thick, dark hair—he’s wearing an expensive watch, a goddamn suit, a tailored suit that fits him perfectly, and if Jay were here, you’d be catching her attention and panting like a dog, with your hands up near your face.

To someone without your more refined palate for older gentlemen, he may look like an average white guy in his early fifties, but you have to look down to make sure your panties haven’t dropped involuntarily. Just in case.

“Is this seat taken?” you ask, gesturing to the one next to him, and he shakes his head, pulls it out for you before he sits back down—yes, he stood when you approached the table. Manners, check. You’re trying not to drool.

You smooth out your skirt before you take your seat—you always dress for the man you want to attract, and tonight is no exception, so you’re wearing a black lace dress and nude heels; the dress is fitted, but not clingy, and not too short, and you know the right kind of man will find it appealing. So far, your handsome potential love interest Aaron seems to be looking respectfully; that may change, but you’re happy to see it, for now.

“So Derek mentioned you’re all in the FBI; are you the boss? You look like the boss,” you say with a playful smile, and Aaron looks a little nervous when he nods, makes eye contact.

“Until someone decides to overthrow me,” he jokes, deadpan, and your smile gets brighter. Dry sense of humor, check.

“I’d like to see them try; I definitely sense that you can handle your own.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Derek hiding a smile behind his hand. He knows you’re flirting, even if no one else does, and another reason you hope to take Aaron home is so you can wipe that smile off his face—but mostly because Aaron’s gorgeous, and you know it would be a very good time for the both of you.

“Let’s play darts,” Derek says to the other people at the table—you can’t remember their names at the moment, all your attention focused on Aaron—and they get up and walk over to the board, so it’s just the two of you.

Aaron clears his throat. “Thank you. What do you do for work?”

“I’m in publishing; a copy editor. Mostly Tom Clancy type action novels, and romance novels. Lots of heaving bosoms and cries of overwhelming pleasure, you know?” You take a sip of your drink through the straw, looking over at him as innocently as you can. He’s a little flushed; you’re a huge fan of that look on a man. “Do you ever read romance novels?”

“Uh, no. Not my genre.” He takes a sip of his drink, and you watch his mouth while he does.

“Not mine either. When you edit enough of them, they become wholly unsexy… and they never compare to real life.” You flick your eyes over his body, briefly but not subtly, and he gives you a glance back. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest. “So what do you like to read? Wait, may I guess?” you ask, setting a hand on his arm. He nods, and you carry on, leaning just a little closer. “So I’m going to guess you’re a fan of the classics, novels you’ve read a hundred times. I think you would tell me your favorite is To Kill a Mockingbird,” you say, tapping against his sleeve, “and maybe intellectually it is, but you actually feel more when you read Moby Dick. I bet your heart yearns for adventure—not that life as a crime solving FBI agent is boring, but it's all too real. Moby Dick is the perfect blend of adventure and fantasy for a man like you.”

“You’ve known me for all of ten minutes,” he says with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug and take a drink.

“True. But am I right? Or close?” He smiles, the first full, unguarded expression he’s given tonight, and you feel awesome for making that happen.

“My favorite book is Moby Dick. I make a point to read it at least twice a year. You’re good.”

“Thank you.” You pull back, take your hand off of his arm; you’ve laid the groundwork for touching, and he’ll have to make a move if he wants more. “People often tell you a lot they don’t intend to, and books are my thing, so it’s easy for me to connect the dots. I recommend books to people as a kind of party trick.” You stir your drink, and he shifts a little, sitting closer.

“Have you disappointed many people with your recommendations?”

“Oh, I make it a personal mission to never leave anyone disappointed,” you say, your voice low and sweet like honey. His eyes move to your mouth. You sweep your tongue over your bottom lip. “Derek said your friends are trying to get you to loosen up; can I ask why?” He flicks his eyes up to yours, frowns a little, like he’s not sure that’s something he’s ready to tell you; ultimately, he just sighs.

“I’ve been divorced for five years, alone for five years. They think it’s time I…” He trails off, shrugs.

“Get back in the saddle?” you offer, and he laughs lightly, agrees. “Is that something you’re interested in? You shouldn’t feel pressured into it if you’re not ready.” You might want to sleep with him so badly it’s sickening, but not at the expense of his well-being.

He exhales deeply and lifts his arm to rest it on the back of your chair; you want to smile, but the conversation doesn’t call for it, so you hold off.

“I think I’m ready, but how do you really know?” You turn toward him a little more, lean against his arm; it feels easy, comfortable, almost like a real date and not you flirting like your life depends on it and hoping to get a bite.

“I think you should wait to meet someone who makes you feel a spark, and then explore it. Maybe it burns hot, but doesn’t last. Maybe it’s a slow burn. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I think when you’re really ready to put yourself out there, you’ll know.” He holds your gaze, wets his lips, takes a breath.

“You’ve been flirting with me.” You do smile a little, then.

“Yes, Aaron, I have.”

“Did Derek put you up to it?”

“Absolutely not.” You touch his arm again, gentle, lean in close. “I’m genuinely interested in you. You’re everything I’m attracted to in a man.” His smile doesn’t touch his eyes.

“Old and uptight?”

“Older, and kind, and capable of having a conversation about more than just sports and money, and handsome. Very handsome.” You lift your fingers from his arm, brush them through his hair over his temple. “I feel a spark. Do you?”

“Yes,” he breathes, and when you set your hand on the table, he covers it carefully with his. His hand is big, warm, softer than you’d expected, and you’re met with the sudden urge to feel it all over your body. “I feel a spark.”

“Good. Do you want to come home with me tonight? No strings attached—just to get you back in the saddle,” you say with a tilt of your head, and he nods.

“I want to.” You’re certain that the smile that crosses your face is softer, inviting, but you get the feeling he won’t kiss you while his friends could be watching. You’re actually surprised he’s touching you so openly.

“Okay, so why don’t you give me a ride home? I was going to have to call an Uber, since my friend didn’t show up, but you’re a gentleman, aren’t you? You wouldn’t let me do that.” He catches on to what you’re saying, the excuse you’re giving him to give his friends, makes a noise of understanding.

“Of course. I wouldn’t rest not knowing you made it home safely.”

“I’m not sure how much rest you’ll be getting tonight,” you murmur, and you rest your free hand on his thigh under the table, squeeze a little. He’s very firm, and you kind of melt. “But that’s a very sweet sentiment, Aaron. Are you committed to staying here much longer?”

“Not at all. Would you like to leave now?” You hold his gaze for a moment, want to be really sure about this; you’re no expert on body language, but you’ve been here before, and he really does look less tense than when you first showed up, more comfortable and open. All really good signs.

“Yes, please.” He squeezes your hand, then stands, smooths out his jacket, and tells you he’ll be right back while he goes to say goodbye to his friends. You stand too, finish what’s left of your drink, and pull out your phone to text Jay.

Taking home the most incredible man. Guess I don’t need my wingwoman after all.

J: Tell grandpa I said he better treat you right.

Please. He’s not that old. If anything, you can call him daddy. :P

J: You can call him daddy. Have fun ;) The ride to your apartment starts out quiet, but you try to fill it by asking Aaron more about himself. You keep your hands on him while you chat, leaning as close to him as you can while wearing your seatbelt, running your hand up and down his leg, over his arm while he shifts gears. You know it’s turning you on, and you’re fairly certain it’s turning him on as well.

You learn more about his job, that he basically solves crimes by judging people, which is kind of funny; before that, he was a lawyer, which you can definitely see. He has one child, a daughter who’s upset with him because of the divorce (someone’s dad, check), and a brother who lives in New York, no living parents. It’s more information than you usually get out of someone you plan to sleep with, but you really do like him, and since he’s not the one night stand type, you think more conversation is the right way to go.

He asks about you too, about your family and your job and your lame friend who bailed on you, and when he arrives outside your building, parks in the lot, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean in closer, smoothing a hand over his waist.

“I’m really glad I met you tonight,” you breathe, looking up at him, and he puts his hand on your cheek and you meet for a slow, easy kiss. “Hmm. I knew you’d be good at that.”

“I knew you’d be good at that, too. You have the most beautiful lips.” He brushes his fingers over them, and you take his hand, bring two of them into your mouth to suck softly. His breath hitches, and you feel your panties getting damp. God, he’s gorgeous. “Let’s go inside,” he whispers, and you slip his fingers out, drop a hand to his lap where he’s—oh, so perfectly hard it’s unreal.

“We could get started out here, have a little adventure,” you say playfully, fully prepared for him to say he’d rather not, but he just licks his lips and looks at you like you’re going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die happily. That’s another look you’re a huge fan of on an older man.

You undo his belt, his button and his zipper, pull his cock out of his pants; he’s of average length, thick, makes your mouth water, and you lean in to use that to your advantage, getting him wet with your saliva and then stroking him in your hand. You look up at his face, and he’s got his eyes closed, head back against the headrest—so fucking sexy. You reach your free hand under his shirt, where he’s hairy, strong, but a little soft, just the way you like it, and he opens his eyes and pulls you close for a kiss that’s a bit harder than the last.

“You’re absolutely perfect,” he sighs against your lips, and you press closer for another kiss. You almost regret the adventure comment now, because you want to undress him, and touch him, feel him all over, but you’ll just have to be patient. (That’s never been your strong suit.)

“Are you kidding? You are… everything. If I could build a dream man, he would literally be a copy of you.” He makes a sharp, self-deprecating sound, and you lean down to get him wetter, move your hand a little faster. “I’m completely serious. I’m a little upset I’ve been going to that bar for so long and our paths never crossed.” One of his hands moves to your hair, and he pulls you close for a kiss; he’s ready to come, you can tell, and you want him to more than anything, so you cover his hand with yours and dip your head, sucking his dick like you’re desperate for it. When it comes to Aaron, you’re kind of desperate for everything.

“Oh, god. That feels so good, baby.” You moan at the pet name—is there anything better in the world than an older man calling you baby? Maybe just Aaron specifically calling you baby—and he tightens his fingers in your hair while you glide over him, tight and wet, until he comes in your mouth.

You swallow it down, pull off breathless, and then swipe your tongue over him so he’s clean enough that you can tuck him back into his pants. You look up at him from his lap, and he’s panting too, rubs his fingers over your lips, your chin, down your throat. You’re desperately horny now, soaking wet, and when you shift to sit up, he catches you for a deep, steamy kiss, and that does nothing to help your situation.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and ugh, your heart flutters. Seriously, who created this man? He’s incredible. “Now let’s go inside so I can make you come, too.”

“Definitely,” you agree with a nod, and you kiss him once more before pulling back and climbing out of the car, straightening yourself up. He does the same, then walks over to you, takes your hand, and follows you into your apartment.

Sex with Aaron is… talk about adventure. He fucks like—well, like he hasn’t done it in over five years. As soon as you get inside the door, he gets on his knees, pulls your panties down, lifts your skirt up, and eats your pussy with such enthusiasm you come with your hands in his hair, rocking against his face, in less than three minutes. Seeing him down on the ground in the full suit, just going to town on you, is not an image you’ll soon forget, that’s for sure.

After that, the two of you stumble to your bedroom, hands all over each other, tugging at zippers and discarding clothes—he has you keep your shoes on, and that makes you feel slutty like a porn star, and super hot—and you kiss, touch, moving your hands all over each other's bodies until he’s hard again. You stay in missionary, and after he slips on a condom from your bedside table, he slides into you, kisses your lips and your neck and your shoulders while he rolls his hips against yours.

It’s slow and sensual at first, and you drag your nails lightly across his back, tilt your head when he nips at your throat.

“Aaron, oh. You feel so good,” you breathe, scraping your fingers through his hair, and his thrusts get a little deeper, his kisses a little rougher.

“You’re incredible. So gorgeous.” He moves a hand to your breast, massages it while your bodies work; you hitch your legs up higher, moan, and pull him closer, your hands on his body, and he fucks into you more frantically, humping against you hard, wildly. You’ve never really gotten fuck you like an animal, but that’s kind of what he’s doing, and you’re into it, clinging to him, pushing into his thrusts like it’s possible to take him deeper than you are now.

God, he’s going to spoil you, ruin you for all other men. You’re going to have your best sex at 28 and then be chasing this feeling the rest of your goddamn life. It’s both amazing and horribly unfair.

“Yes, Aaron, yeah. Fuck me hard, fuck me deep.” He groans, pounds inside you, moves his hand from your breast to the back of your neck and stares down into your eyes while he absolutely destroys you. You come clenching around him, pulling his hair and digging your nails into his shoulder, and his mouth comes crashing down for a kiss while he thrusts through it and then stutters, his orgasm right behind yours.

You sag against the pillow behind your head, and he puts his weight on you, hand still clamped around the nape of your neck, and breathes hot against your throat.

You stare up at the ceiling, catching your breath, and thank fucking god Jay stood you up tonight. Aaron is very sweet, kissing you and holding you, murmuring against your skin, and the two of you go to the bathroom, get cleaned up, and then raid your kitchen for snacks, talking easily and laughing. He doesn’t look like he’s about to bolt, which you’d been a little worried about; in fact, he actually suggests taking your snacks back to bed, jokes about not getting any crumbs on your white sheets. Never one to kick a man out abruptly after sex, and especially not a man like Aaron, you agree, and you end up in bed again, which means…

Another frantically torn condom wrapper later, and you’re on your stomach, your nipples rubbing against the sheets. Aaron’s hands are on your ass while you work yourself on his cock, rolling your body, moaning desperately like you aren’t already two orgasms deep; his dick hits just right, and between that and the nipple stimulation you’re coming fast, bucking hard against him so he’ll follow.

“Fuck, baby, coming already?” He tightens his grip, slams inside you, plants one hand on the bed to change his angle a bit. “Let’s try for another; your body is so perfect, built for sex, built for me.” You groan, roll your eyes back because his dirty talk is hitting the spot, and the two of you fuck together, noisy and eager and hot, until he shudders, squeezes your ass hard and starts to come.

You’re so close, right on the edge, and you sound wild because of it, your moans high, whimpering, your fingers digging into the sheets.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you beg, grinding against him, and he puts both hands hard on your hips, rails you into the bed.

“I’m not stopping until you come for me. Come for me,” he murmurs, and he wraps one hand around the front of your body, rubs your clit, and you climax, squeezing your eyes shut, seeing stars. You moan his name, drop your hand to cover his where it rests against your pussy, and this time when his body drapes across your back like a weighted blanket, you sigh and close your eyes.

He kisses your back and shoulders, runs his big hands over your hips and ass, then slides off and guides you to the edge of the bed, lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom. You think absently that you could get used to being treated this well, and you must say it, because he presses a kiss to your lips and whispers, “I will if you let me.”

There’s a little talk in bed, after you’re cleaned up and cozy beneath the comforter, about going on a real date; Aaron seems nervous, like he thinks you won’t go for it, that all you wanted was this night of sex. And yes, while that’s typically your MO, something about Aaron is different. He makes you want more, things like dates and picnics and sweet lovemaking at night and kisses—all the kisses, everywhere, all the time.

You ask him to stay, and he promises he will, and you fall asleep in his arms. It’s the best you’ve felt in a really long time.

You wake up to Aaron’s sleepy, handsome face, and you kiss and smile into each other’s lips, because last night was great, but this is even greater. Your plan is to take a shower together and then go out for breakfast, but there’s a knock at your door just as you’re planning to step in.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” you tell him with a kiss, and you pull on your robe and peer through the peephole, then pull the door open. “Well, well; now you decide to show up.”

Jay steps in with a box of doughnuts and two cups of coffee, looking properly shamed.

“I know, I’m a horrible friend. I broke the slut code: stay slutty, but never at the expense of your best girl.” You crack a smile, because you could never really be mad at her, but especially not after last night. You’re about to say that, but she looks over your shoulder at the clothes still strewn about your living room and grins. “Holy shit. Is your old man still here?”

“He’s not an old man, and yes, he’s in the shower, so shut up.” She shoves the doughnuts and coffee carrier into your hands and brushes past you, toward your bedroom, and you groan. “Jay, no, come on.”

“I just want to get a glimpse of him,” she says, peeking her head into your room. She sees more clothes, and the condom wrappers, looks back at you with a cocked eyebrow. “Okay, someone had a good time last night.”

“Yes, it was fucking incredible. He’s a sex god, I’m not even kidding. He ate my pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in months, then fucked me twice, so hard and sexy, and then he asked me if he could take me on a date, Jay.” You smile wide, can’t help it. “I really like him, so I actually owe you for not coming out last night.” She smiles back, pulls you close for a hug, and you step back with your hands on her shoulders. “So thank you, and thanks for coming to apologize, but can you please leave? I really don’t want to miss out on some potential good morning shower sex.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s all from a place of love, and she turns to head out of your room.

“Okay, but only because cockblocking you would mean breaking the slut code again, and I can’t have my membership card revoked. I have a date with the almost frat boy again tonight.” She grins, and you shake your head, pull off your robe when you hear the door shut and head for the shower.

Good morning shower sex has never been so good. One month and twelve dates later, and you’re head over heels for Aaron. He is so sweet, and smart, and secretly funny, the perfect gentleman when you’re in public and an absolute manic in private, and you seriously could not have imagined a more perfect man.

Jay is maybe a little tired of hearing you talk about him.

You’re out for breakfast on a Saturday morning—Aaron is on a case in Indiana, or you’d probably be with him—and she sighs around a bite of french toast.

“I get it, he’s the best lay you’ve ever had in your life. He makes your pussy wet and your heart horny, or whatever. When do I get to meet the old man who’s got you wrapped around his big sexy fingers?”

“He’s supposed to be home tonight, maybe I’ll see if he’s feeling up to drinks?” Sometimes he’s really worn out after these cases, and you don’t blame him, but occasionally they must touch him in a way that makes him want to enjoy life, because you’ve had some nice dates the same day he gets back. You’ll ask, and if he’s not up for it, you’ll reschedule.

“Ooh, yes. I can’t wait to finally get a good look at the hunk who turned my maneater best friend into a monogamous whore.” You gasp, affronted, and she cackles, takes a sip of her iced coffee. Sometimes you can’t even remember why you’re friends—but she never fails to do something completely unexpected and sweet that reminds you eventually. “Hey, maybe now that you’re obsessed with this guy, you can finally meet my dad, since I don’t have to worry about you trying to suck his dick at first sight.”

You know that Jay’s relationship with her dad has been a little rough since her parents split up, and you’ve always thought that maybe you could get her to open up to him, to talk to him, if you could get to know him, but her fears about your taste for older men have always been hilariously real. As if you can’t control yourself; as if you’d ever actually date her dad.

“Well I’ll have to ask my old man; maybe he’s down for a threesome?” It’s her turn to act offended, and you laugh and send Aaron a text about this evening before you forget.

Can’t wait to meet the infamous Jay, he replies, and you won’t lie, you’re feeling really good about your two favorite people finally getting to know each other.

That night, you and Aaron beat Jay to the bar, because of course you do—that bitch is never on time for anything.

You’re feeling cute in a sexy turtleneck dress (the neck of which Aaron tugged down to place a hickey under when you rode him on the couch before coming here) and a set of earrings he bought you—you’re wearing a set of lingerie he bought you, too for later—and he looks gorgeous in a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

You can barely keep your hands off of him, squeezing his thigh, kissing his neck; you only give him an inch of space when he gets up to run to the restroom, and even then, the way he smiles and presses his lips to yours before he goes makes you want to cancel drinks and take him home so you can be alone.

But Jay asked to meet him, and you have been a little obsessed lately, so you want to do this and make her happy.

You look down at your phone, ready to hit her with some inflammatory where the fuck are you??? texts, when she drops into the seat Aaron had just vacated, breathless.

“Sorry, sorry. Traffic was really bad, and I got into this huge fight with my mom on the phone...” She pulls off her jacket, drapes it over the back of the seat.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, concerned. The two of them usually get along pretty well.

“Yeah, she’s just pissed because my dad has a new girlfriend—which is stupid, because she’s the one who wanted to divorce him, so why does she care? But anyway, I told her I’d meet her and be nice to her, because it’s important to him, and she expects me to take her side or something. I don’t know. Let’s just say I’m really glad I’m out for drinks with you and your old man so I can forget about my problems for a while.” She takes a deep breath for practically the first time since she started talking, then looks around, realizes it’s just the two of you. “Hey, where is he, anyway?”

“Restroom,” you say with a smile, but something more must creep onto your face, because she rolls her eyes playfully.

“And you didn’t follow him in there for a little stall action?”

“Ew, no. That’s more your speed than mine; we had sex before we came, anyway, look at this hickey.” You pull the neck of your dress down and she whistles, impressed.

“Congrats on having such good pussy, babe. I know you’re sickeningly obsessed with him, but it looks to me like he’s got it bad for you too.” You grin, instinctively want to gush over him, but you see him walking over out of the corner of your eye, so you hold off.

He’s frowning, though, and you’re not sure why.

“Julie?” Jay whips her head around at the sound of Aaron’s voice, and her eyes get wide.

“Dad? What are you…” You stand up abruptly, looking up at Aaron, and Jay stands too, looking between you, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I… We…” He swallows, looks at you like you’ve both made a terrible mistake. You’re surprised how much that look hurts, but you know you have to take care of Jay before you can feel sorry for yourself.

“Jay, listen to me, okay? I swear to god I didn’t know.” You’re begging, pleading with your eyes, your hands on her shoulders. “I did not know.” She shakes her head like it’s not making sense, but when she lets herself connect the dots, she brings up a hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh my god. Are you fucking kidding me?” She pulls away from you, looking at you like you punched her in the face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Jay, I didn’t—”

“Julie,” Aaron says, reaching for her, but she steps back, palms up.

“I seriously can’t believe this. You two… After every joke we made about me keeping you away from him?” She looks at you like you betrayed her, and you exhale, shrug sadly.

“It’s not like I went looking for him, Jay. We just… found each other.” You don’t look at Aaron, because if the last month hasn’t meant the same things to him, you’ll have to be okay with that. “I know it’s shocking, and I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it feels like to find this out, this way.”

“You’re right, you can’t imagine. I just fought with my mom about my dad’s new girlfriend, and it’s-it’s you.” She laughs, humorless.

“You fought with your mom? When?” Aaron asks, crossing his arms, and it’s so clear how much he cares about Jay. Her eyes fly to his.

“On the fucking way here. She told me about your new slut girlfriend, and I was defending you! I told her I’d meet her if you asked me to, that I’d be nice because I know she’s important to you! And it’s you,” she practically spits, turning to you. “Such a whore that you’ll fuck anyone over forty who can still get it up, including my fucking father.” Her tone stings, and people are looking at the three of you, but you take a breath, remind yourself that she’s just angry right now, and she loves you, doesn’t mean that.

“Julie, that's enough. I’m taking you home and we can talk about this there.” Aaron steps past her, picks up her jacket, and glances over at you, but you’re collecting your things and and pulling up a rideshare app to get yourself the fuck out of there.

You head for the bathroom to wait it out until your ride comes, and you definitely don’t cry because the two people who bring you the most happiness in the world are gone and they barely even looked back. It’s five days before Jay shows up at your door with apology doughnuts and a bottle of rosé. You eat and drink and cry on each other, and then laugh at each other, and your heart feels a little healed by the end of it.

“I’m sorry I called you a whore. It’s just… what are the odds, after everything we said, that you would actually hook up with my fucking dad.” You laugh and take the last bite of your doughnut.

“You don’t think I was a little startled by that turn of events? I was as shocked as you. I knew he had a daughter around my age, but that’s not really what we talked about, you know?” She shoves half a doughnut in her mouth and cackles.

“You don’t talk a whole lot, from what I’ve gathered.”

“Didn’t,” you say, and your whole mood shifts. She looks confused. “We didn’t talk a whole lot. He hasn’t spoken to me since the night you found out.” She pulls out her phone, starts texting.

“Okay, I told him I was okay with you guys like, two days ago, so this probably means he’s spiraling. He tends to do that—get in his own head and beat himself up for things that aren’t his fault.” She looks up from her phone, gives you a soft smile. “Will you forgive me if I tell you he’s moping at home right now, and that I know he’ll be happy to see you?” You roll your eyes a little.

“I already forgive you, Jay, but if he hasn’t called me, maybe there’s a reason. Maybe he was looking for an out, and I gave him one, or maybe he can’t feel the same way I do because he knows we’re friends.”

“He told my mom about you, remember? He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t serious about you, and I don’t think he’d be acting this emo if he didn’t have feelings for you.” She reaches out, covers your hands with hers. “I’m really, really sorry I fucked this up for you guys. Weirdness aside, I know what good people you both are, and I hate that you were happy and I took that from you guys. I’m 100% supportive of you being my future step-mom,” she says with a grin, and you roll your eyes again and give her a hug and then jump up to get a shower.

You’re going to go get your old man.

When you knock on Aaron’s door an hour later, he looks surprised to see you.

“I thought you’d be Julie,” he says softly, and you sigh.

“I know. She sent me. She wants us to get our heads out of our asses, but I told her I don’t know where your head is, because we haven’t spoken.” Seeing him makes you feel a little better, because he does look like he may have been moping the last few days, so that must mean the spark is still there, right? “If you want me to leave, just tell me, and I’ll go; I’ll get out of your life and you can pretend it was just a casual thing, if that’s what you want.” Your heart aches at the thought, but you’d understand, if being his daughter’s best friend is an obstacle he can’t overcome.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says after a long, painfully drawn out moment. “I don’t want you to ever leave. And I could never pretend this was casual.” He steps forward—so handsome in a t-shirt and jeans it makes you long to press kisses all over his face, to hold him and be held by him—and his eyes are trained on yours. “I know nothing about us is conventional, but it doesn’t matter to me if it doesn’t matter to you. I want to be with you.”

You take a deep, calming breath, exhale and nod. Your hands ache to reach out and touch him.

“I want to be with you, but only if you can promise that if something comes up with Jay—Julie—we can figure it out together. I don’t ever want to feel the way I felt the other night, and while I get that you had to take care of your daughter, and I’m glad you two talked things out, I can’t just be abandoned if things get weird.” You approach him, wrap your arms around him, and sigh. He hugs you so tightly, rests his cheek against the top of your head.

“I promise. I know I could have handled that better, but the situation was just so...”

“I know, that’s okay. Family comes first—but just so you know, she gave me her full support to campaign to become her new step-mom,” you say, pulling back with a teasing smile, and he shakes his head and grins. “So, one last question: Are you ready to get back in the saddle, Aaron?” He leans in and kisses you so hard you’re breathless, weaves his fingers into your hair.

“Sounds like my kind of adventure.” Message sent with high importance: Do not disturb! Your dad’s indecent.

J: Gross. Thanks for the warning, mom.

That’s step-mom, to you. Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #prompt #request

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amatchinwater · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Isaac Lahey

Words: 3177

Prompt: @steodiscord Steo Spooktober Scare Dare, I wanted to do more, but here we are.

Ao3 link Masterlist

There's No Such Thing as Werewolves

---

There’s few things in life that Stiles can say no to. A dare certainly isn’t one of them. In fact, that’s a guarantee to make sure Stiles does something. His best friend Isaac daring him to walk through the preserve alone with nothing but a flashlight wasn’t going to scare him off. Stiles can’t turn down a challenge. Plenty of teenagers have done it. Hell, it’s almost something of a tradition in Beacon Hills. Kids daring their friends to take a moonlight stroll.

Because there’s something different about the woods in his town. Supposedly, it’s full of feral supernatural creatures like werewolves and coyotes. While Stiles has never seen any for himself, his father has gotten plenty of calls at the station about it. Snarling sounds and four-legged creatures with glowing eyes chasing them. His dad mostly thought they were prank calls. But eventually enough parents raised a fuss about it that the preserve is now off limits at night.

Good thing Stiles doesn’t plan on getting caught. He’s going to waltz through the preserve until Isaac tells him to stop. And since he has no sense of direction during the day, Stiles is going to use his phone’s GPS to get back out. He also can’t wait to shove it in Isaac’s face that there’s no such thing as werewolves. His best friend swears up and down that he saw red, glowing eyes when Jackson made him go over the summer.

Stiles is a logical being, he knows that most animal’s eyes reflect light when it’s dark, making it appear like they’re glowing. Filled with anxiety and adrenaline, Isaac probably only thought they were red. Just fear messing with your brain and making you see things that aren’t there. It makes sense. It’s logical.

Occam’s Razor, the simplest explanation is often the right one.

“So how long do I have to do this for?” Stiles asks, getting out of the passenger seat.

“Why?” Isaac’s head pops up above the car. Leaning on the roof, he drums his hands, “scared already?”

Stiles couldn’t roll his eyes harder if he tried, “no, jackass. I’m not scared. I would like to make it home before my dad does.”

The cheeky grin on his best friend’s face falls a bit, “okay, yeah. That’s a fair point. I’ll check on you in an hour. That’ll give you enough time in there and plenty to get home.” Isaac gives him a look that he can’t quite read. Almost weary. “Watch your step,” his best friend offers before disappearing back into his car.

If you’re going to be all worried about it now, maybe you shouldn’t have dared him in the first place. With a sigh, Stiles checks his phone, the digital numbers telling him it’s eleven-fifteen. His father should be home somewhere around two. Time to get this over with. Tapping the button on the screen, Stiles turns on his flashlight and steps into the preserve. It’s quieter than he thought it’d be. Then again, if some giant beast with a beam of light was trampling through his home, Stiles would cease all movement and sound too. He walks on a little mindful of where he steps in case there’s an actual animal trying to sleep.

Three times.

Stiles has nearly killed himself tripping over a root three fucking times. The light from his phone is only doing so much and the full moon isn’t making it through the thick trees. Fuck the streetlights, he stopped seeing light from that who knows how far back. Forget the werewolves, if Stiles dies tonight, it’s going to be from his severe lack of coordination. This was such a stupid idea. Luckily, his GPS will be able to lead him back because retracing his steps is going to be next to impossible.

A racoon darts in front of him. “Jesus!” Stiles shrieks, nearly dropping his phone on the ground when he jumps. He laughs to himself, palm on his chest as he tries to calm his heart. It was just a fucking racooon. Racoons are normal to see at nighttime. Man, he’s gotta get a grip on himself.

Checking his phone again, Stiles notices two things. One, it’s now midnight. His hour is almost up. Which is great because if he almost kisses one more fucking spider, he’s going to freak out. The second makes him groan in annoyance. A great big, red ‘x’ where his signal bars should be stares him in the face. It’s a good thing Isaac told him how long because it’s not like Stiles can get or make calls right now.

“Fucking fantastic,” Stiles grumbles to himself. Fuck this, he shines his light around trying to figure out if he should keep going. No. He’s heading back. With no service, if Stiles gets hurt, he’s fucked. His father will definitely kill him if he gets hurt over a fucking dare. Turning on his heel, Stiles scrolls through his phone to pull up his GPS so he can get the hell out of here.

Not thinking about it, when the page opens, it doesn’t load. “Fuck,” he draws out the worn on a groan, hanging his head back. “Of course the GPS won’t work. There’s no signal, dumbass.” Stiles curses to himself again, stomping- hopefully- back the way he came. Maybe if he gets back far enough, he’ll pick up signal again. Especially because after a minute or two of walking, an uncomfortable shiver works its way down his spine.

He’s being watched.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stiles scoffs, “nothing is out here but pissed off squirrels because you woke them up.” A twig snaps behind him. Stiles pauses for the smallest of seconds. Hair rises on the back of his neck. He doesn’t like this at all. Stiles walks a little faster, “nope. Not about to get impaled by a deer for you, Is. If I got too close to your family, I’m sorry,” he says as though the animal will understand. “I didn’t mean to. I just can’t see shit.” Maybe it’s mostly to calm his nerves from irrational thought.

Another twig snaps and something snarls.

Deer definitely don’t make that sound.

Fear freezes Stiles’ body in place despite his brain screaming at him to run. The sound happens again. A bit softer this time. More like a growled warning. No idea how he knows that except that he just does. Stiles gets the scary feeling that if he takes another step, he’s dead. But he can’t just not move. So against his better judgment- maybe some part of him wants to see if he can fight it off or outrun it- Stiles slowly turns around. No sudden movements, just carefully see- a black wolf with red glowing eyes is staring right at him.

“Oh my god,” Stiles shouts, turning and running in the other direction.

A vicious roar sounds off behind him, vibrating his chest. That shouldn’t be that loud. That should not be that fucking loud. His lungs ache, burn in their desperate attempt to keep him moving. To get Stiles away from the danger that is undoubtedly getting closer. He can feel it breathing down his neck. That also shouldn’t be possible.

If Jackson could see him now. Running blindly through the dark faster than ever and not falling over. He’d make first line for sure.

The wolf nips at his heel. Not enough to hurt; another warning. How does he just know this? The action was enough to spook him though, causing Stiles to lose his balance. Tumbling face first into the dirt with a hard thud. He groans, spitting out dirt and rubbing his nose. He’s going to die. Stiles is going to die because of a stupid dare. There’s no chance to scramble to his feet to try and run away again. The wolf has a hold of his ankle. Sharp fangs simply prevent escape, they’re not even breaking skin.

When it lets go, the wolf snorts, nudging Stiles’ leg. When he doesn’t move, the wolf does it again, clear in its intention for him to roll over. He shouldn’t. Stiles is more than aware that he shouldn’t. Wiping the dirt from his chin, he rolls onto his back. No sooner is he flat against the earth is the wolf on top of him. Towering over him with a paw on either side of Stiles’ face, fully encasing his body.

Without the help of his phone, that fell who knows where, the only thing Stiles can really see are the scarlet orbs watching him. The branches of the trees are a little more sparse, so some moonlight trickles through. It’s not nearly enough. All he can properly make out are those eyes just observing him. Why is the wolf just looking at him? Shouldn’t it be eating him by now? His heart is making a valiant attempt at escaping his chest currently. Stiles doesn’t have the first clue what he’s supposed to do.

He wiggles, just a tiny bit, only trying to get the twig that’s digging into his spine to move so that he can think straight. Which was exactly the wrong thing to do. The wolf snarls, fangs wrapping around Stiles’ throat, breaking the skin just a touch. Enough that it stings. Frozen. Stiles freezes on the spot. Other than the small tremors of fear wracking his frame, Stiles doesn’t move a muscle. Doesn’t even breathe. He falls completely pliant to the wolf.

He’s so fucked.

But the wolf, seemingly satisfied with the submission, releases him at least. Rearing its head back, it howls at the sky. Stiles hasn’t the slightest idea what that could mean. But it can’t be good. Wolves howl to signal their location to the rest of the pack. Did it just tell the others where to find dinner?

Oh god.

The wolf ducks its head, cold nose bumping Stiles’ sweat-slick, hammering pulse. Then it licks him. Long tongue brushing along his skin. “H-Hey,” Stiles swats at the wolf. Yes, because he’s not in enough danger he needs to hit the thing and piss it off. “That’s sweat, not real salt. Stop licking me,” he tries to shove the wolf. Let’s try pushing a brick wall next, probably have better luck. “I- I’m skin and bone,” Stiles tries to reason with the wolf, fully processing his ludicrousness. But he just can’t stop. “I’m not a suitable meal, okay?”

The licking doesn’t stop and the wolf huffs in a way that almost sounds like an animal trying to laugh. Which is even more ridiculous. But then, the tongue gets shorter, the weight on him heavier as the licks turn to nips and a mouth sucking against his skin. What the- Stiles moans, blunt teeth biting the crook of his neck.

“Not a meal, sweetheart,” a- very attractive- male’s voice chuckles. Now is really not the time to be thinking about how good his voice is. Stiles’ limbs lock up, working much better than his brain. This can’t be happening. “A mate. Mine,” he rumbles, stubble burning Stiles’ neck.

This isn’t happening.

Yeah, that’s it. When Stiles fell, he must’ve hit his head too hard and is now unconscious whilst being eaten. That’s totally it. His brain providing some weird dream so he doesn’t feel himself being torn apart.

Another moan tears through Stiles’ throat. The guy pushing his hips down until Stiles’ legs open. Allowing him to grind his very hard dick against Stiles.

“Not a dream, sweetheart,” the once wolf mumbles, hands curling into the hem of Stiles’ shirt.

Warm fingers brush his skin and Stiles is painfully aware of the fact that he’s just letting this happen. Fangs graze the crook of his neck, biting into his skin until he feels a little trickle, “no,” Stiles shoves the guy’s chest, surprised when he actually backs off.

“But I thought- you ran,” he says, like that’s an explanation.

“Yeah, I ran,” Stiles sits up, scooting back for good measure. His hand comes up to his neck, grateful that there’s only a little wetness to his fingers. “A wolf was trying to eat me, of course I ran. I was terrified! You snuck up on me.” His eyes have mostly adjusted to the dark. Not enough to see completely, but he can more or less make out the guy- the very naked guy- across from him. The shadows cover the important bits. But not his face, which as gorgeous as it is, looks extremely upset.

For no reason Stiles can place, he’s put off by the fact that the guy is upset. And the fact that Stiles isn’t more upset that he was bitten hard enough to draw blood. Stiles realizes that he should certainly be more put out about this whole thing. But he has this weird curiosity. More wanting to know what the fuck is going on than he is concerned about his wellbeing. None of it makes any sense, but that’s all Stiles currently has to offer.

“No, no, I didn’t,” he scoots barely an inch closer. “I snapped that twig so you’d know exactly where I was. You didn’t see me, so I broke another one.” Bangs flop over his eyes when he shakes his head, “I’d never want to scare you, sweetheart.”

“Okay, that too,” Stiles holds a hand up, “I don’t even know your name and yet you keep calling me sweetheart. You don’t know me.”

The guy takes a deep breath. Not from irritation, like he’s trying to keep himself in control. The ruby color keeps flickering too. “Theo,” he says, hands digging into his thighs in efforts not to move. “My name’s Theo. And you’re my mate.”

“How do you know what?” Stiles scoffs, “I don’t even know what that means!”

“Think of it like a soulmate. All supernatural creatures know their mates by scent,” Theo explains. “I snapped the twing so that I could shift and talk to you about it. But then you ran,” the word is growled, emphasized by the glowing red color intensifying. Theo shakes his head again.

“Who in their right mind wouldn’t run from a snarling wolf?” Stiles slaps his thighs, utterly exasperated with the other guy’s reaction. “I thought I was going to die!”

“Running is considered an invitation to werewolves,” Theo states. He must see the crickets chirping in Stiles’ brain because the wolf continues, “think of it like a challenge. Someone wanting to see if the other is worthy enough of being their mate by giving chase. Seeing if their mate can catch them.”

“So me running away-”

“Kicked in every single instinct I have to claim my mate. It’s done with a bite to your neck. And don’t worry, my fangs didn’t go in far enough.” Theo’s nails dig into his thighs again, “but it’s why it’s incredibly hard for me to just sit here while you’re all the way over there-” okay, he’s like two feet away max- “smelling like someone else.” Stiles can’t even begin to unpack that. “It’s even worse because of the full moon. It heightens everything. But, as much as it pisses my wolf off, I’m not going to force you into anything. Just because I’m a werewolf doesn’t mean I’m an animal.”

Which is very true. Theo listened to him when he said no. But Stiles can’t shake the feeling of wanting to make Theo feel better. Happy. Can’t shake the annoyance that he’s the cause of Theo’s distress. Even more so that given what he’s seen so far, Stiles is inclined to believe him. He’s smart as hell. Stiles isn’t going to ignore evidence when it’s laid out right in front of him.

“So, does that mean you don’t live out here in the woods?”

“What? No,” Theo almost laughs, finally looking at him again. “I live in town. Graduated early and now I’m working towards getting my degree online. I wanted to be able to stay closer to my pack. Helps the bond.”

Stiles looks at Theo. Really looks at him. He’s very easy on the eyes. Which is a nice bonus to be honest. And he hasn’t really done anything to hurt him. Stiles honestly doesn’t think he could. Which is just another thing. Throughout this entire ordeal, Stiles had had this intuition about everything. Theo warning him proved to be true. Theo trying to keep himself in control was also correct. Almost like Stiles had instincts of his own.

Meanwhile Theo is consistently fighting his own to ensure Stiles’ comfort and safety. The wolf finally notices that he’s under the microscope, “why are you looking at me like that?”

With the way Theo is trying so hard not to do something, this is probably a stupid idea. But he’s finding it hard to care. It’s not like his love life has been particularly fruitful. A hot guy telling him that they’re basically meant to be together can’t be all that bad. Right? “I’m Stiles,” he says, extending his hand to shake.

“I’m sorry,” Theo preemptively says, reaching out and yanking Stiles into his lap. Stiles will absolutely deny the way he squawks from the action. Strong arms wrap around his frame, holding him close. Theo tucks his nose under Stiles’ jaw, inhaling his scent deeply while rumbling in his chest. “It’s really hard to control,” the wolf says, fangs grazing the crook of Stiles’ neck. “Just,” Theo takes a controlled breath and his arms loosen, “there,” he says, letting go.

Stiles doesn’t get up. Rather adjusts himself so he’s not crushing the wolf’s crotch, “it’s okay.” Theo’s head snaps up at his words, arms locking around him again, brows raised. “I’m not saying let’s run away and be mates. But I’m,” Stiles loops his arm over Theo’s shoulder, “I’m saying it’s okay. I mean, you’re pretty hot,” he quirks his brows, hoping humor as a coping mechanism works for the wolf too.

Theo laughs, resting his forehead in his neck, “I could court you,” the wolf says. Stiles makes a noise that sounds something close to ‘um’ but it was really mostly a noise. “Dating, Stiles. It’s like dating. I won’t go full tradition on you, but,” Theo lifts his head, their noses brushing, “I’d like to court you. Prove that I’m worthy to be your mate.”

“I think I’d like that,” Stiles says with a smile.

“It’s for life, you know,” Theo’s hands tighten around his sides, but he’s whispering to, staring at Stiles’ mouth. His excitement is crystal clear, no matter how much the wolf tries to hide it.

He pulls a face like he’s thinking about it, “we’re basically made for each other, right?”

Theo nods, “that’s what mates means, yes,” tone teasing and husky.

“Then yeah,” Stiles bumps their noses together, “I’m saying you can court me.”

Smiling back, Theo crashes their mouths together. Stiles would’ve gladly reciprocated the kiss had he not been so surprised. The wolf pulls back, “sorry,” gasping for air.

Just as breathless, Stiles chuckles, “it’s okay,” and seals their mouths together again.

#teen wolf #steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #theo x stiles #stiles x theo #steo spooktober vol.4 #scare dare #Match Writes

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mummybear · 4 years ago

Text

Finally, I’ve Found You.

Words: 4938

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, ABO, Protective Sam, Possessive Dean, Claiming, Scenting, Dirty Talk, Orgasm Control, Hair Pulling, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, knotting....Think that’s it :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Bingo Square: @spnkinkbingo - Free Space - ABO Soul Mates

Summary: When your protective Alpha best friend takes you to meet his family, things don’t go quite to plan. You end up finding something, or someone, you’ve been looking for your whole life.

Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr Thank you again babe! :D

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Being an Omega in this part of the world was nothing short of a nightmare - Omegas were treated as slaves and fuck toys for Alphas. When your parents had died, you were even more scared than ever before. Being left alone in this world was terrifying, you hadn’t told anyone, not until you’d met Sam Winchester. He was an Alpha through and through,” - at least, that’s what he let the outside world believe. To you he was your best friend, and your protector. He was a complete sweetheart, even when you knew it was hard for him not to give into his nature.

The most that he ever did was snap at you, but that was only when his rut hit particularly hard or your heat or his rut started before either of you were ready. Even then though, he would lock himself away, or he would lock you away and keep you safe, until those days passed. You wanted to want Sam in that way, and you knew he felt the same, but neither of you had ever been able to bring yourselves to do anything.

There were times you’d talked about it at length; the possibility of you being his, but you’d always come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t right, for either of you, and it wouldn’t be fair. You were worried though, because if Sam wasn’t supposed to be yours, then who was? And were they even half as sweet, hot and caring as your best friend? You only knew what you’d been told by your other Omega friends, once you found your mate, you would just know.

“You ready to go?” Sam asks as he walks into your room, with a big excited grin on his face.

“Sam, are you sure about this?” you sigh as you finish zipping up your suitcase for the weekend.

“Y/N, trust me! My family are going to love you.”

“You know I trust you, more than anyone on the planet, but I don’t know if It’s such a good idea. I’m not exactly special, I’m just like any other Omega,” you sigh as he takes the suitcase from your grip, and you hear him huff quietly.

“I’ve told you before, that isn’t how any of my family see it. Besides, you’re my best friend, they know how much you’ve been there for me. Even if you are a giant pain my ass. Now come on, stop complaining,” he winks at you over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and follow him out of the door.

“Fine, but you better not leave me on my own,” you huff out, locking the door behind you.

Luckily the drive doesn’t take as long as you thought it might, and all too soon you’re pulling up to a gorgeous home, with perfectly kept lawn and two classic cars in the driveway. You wring your hands in your lap, feeling the nerves creeping up on you even more than you’d expected. You can feel the need to be sick pressing against the back of your throat. Sam must notice because seconds later you feel a big hand on top of both of yours, and you feel a slight sense of calm start to settle over you.

“Sam, I told you not to use those Alpha powers of yours on me,” you laugh slightly, feeling grateful that he doesn’t always listen to you.

“Y/N, you’re shaking and you’re breathing too hard. I don’t want you passing out on me, just breathe,” he smiles gently, the complete picture of calm, as always.

It takes a few moments, but you finally manage to get your breathing under control, and your heart stops racing.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” you swallow thickly, climbing out of the car and following Sam as he pulls your suitcases out.

Sam looks you over and frowns, “now you mention it, I’ve never seen you like this. Did we work out the days wrong? Is your heat due or something?”

You think on it for a moment as Sam leads you to his parents house, and over to the front door.

“I, uh, no. I only had one a two weeks ago. You know I only have one a month, it can’t be that.”

Before Sam can respond the door is pulled open, and a grinning couple fill the doorway.

“Sam! It’s great to see you son.” The older man steps forward and embraces Sam in a tight hug, that Sam returns with a big grin. Before turning to the older woman and doing the same. It’s clear to see they’re his mom and dad. The family resemblance is beyond obvious.

“Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N this is my mom and dad, Mary and John Winchester,” Sam introduces fondly.

“Great to finally meet you, Y/N! Sam has told us all about you,” John smiles warmly, giving you a quick hug which you return nervously.

“We really have heard so much about you, thank you so much for looking after our baby,” Mary grins, and pulls you into another hug.

“Now, come on inside you two,” Mary tells you both, moving aside so you can follow Sam into the house.

“Sammy!” You hear from down the hall, and you follow Sam further into the house, watching as Sam is embraced by a slightly shorter man with sandy hair. You smile at the display of affection. it’s so nice to see Sam surrounded by family, he’d always spoken about them, and you’re guessing this must be the brother he’d told you countless stories about, Dean.

Suddenly Dean looks up and his eyes lock with yours over Sam’s shoulder, you feel like a rug has been pulled from under your feet and you stumble back a little. Your heart thuds painfully in your chest, and you swallow thickly around the lump that’s lodged in your throat. You bite your lip as his nostrils flair and feel yours do the same as his scent hits you, and it’s like you can see his eyes darken before you.

Your words are stuck in your throat, until Mary comes to your side and wraps her arms around you, “Y/N? Are you feeling okay, sweetie. Do you need to sit down?”

Her voice sounds a little distant, like you have cotton wool lodged in your ears, but you hear her faintly all the same.

“Yes, please. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” you all but whisper, tearing your gaze away from Dean, as Sam pulls away from him to come and stand by your side.

Mary and Sam lead you into the living room and help you get settled on the sofa.

“Are you okay?” Mary checks again, as she sends Sam away to help his father outside with the grill.

“Y-Yeah, I think so. I think I just need a minute, long drive,” you explain as you try and reassure her, and she nods in understanding.

“Okay honey, if you need anything we’ll just be outside okay?”

“Thank you, Mrs Winchester,” you sigh, leaning back against the soft sofa, and you let your eyes close for a moment. You feel her squeeze your hand and the sofa dips as she steps away.

You suck in a deep breath and your eyes snap open, as an unusual but tantalising mix of scents fill your nose. It’s like leather, spice, oil and something you don’t quite recognise. Then your gaze falls on the door you’d come through earlier, and on him.

You sit a little straighter and shift awkwardly in your seat.

“Hi, you must be, Dean. I’m Y/N,” you practically whisper as he walks further into the room.

He looks you up and down and licks his lips, his gaze heated, like he can see through your clothes and it makes you shiver.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” his voice is almost a growl as he talks, and he takes the seat right next to you, holding out his hand for you to shake.

You take his hand and your eyes lock with his, a complete calmness settles over you and you can feel yourself leaning into him. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he repositions his hand, so that his fingers are moving between yours, intertwining your hand with his own.

“Alpha,” you whimper leaning in closer, following his lead, until his forehead is pressed against yours.

“Omega,” he practically growls, scooting his body closer to you and breathing deeply, as his free arm curls around your waist tightly, almost possessively.

“There’s something about you… I don’t understand. I’ve never felt anything like this before,” you mutter, almost disbelieving, like if you say it too loud he’ll disappear.

“Neither have I, but I can smell it. I know you’re mine.”

He says it with such finality, and you want to believe him because, fuck, he’s perfect. Gorgeous, strong, great family. But beyond that you don’t know anything about him, you’ve literally just met, but something tells you that you can trust him, that he’s right, and you are his and he’s yours.

“B-But we’ve just met, Dean,” you stutter, as the hand gripping your waist slips just beneath your t-shirt and brushes your skin.

“Don’t care. You’re mine, I know you are. I can feel it, I can smell it, and I know you can too,” he growls as your free hand rests on his thigh to steady yourself.

“I can feel it, in every bone in my body, Dean. But we can’t,” you protest weakly, trying to pull away, but he holds your body tight against his.

He pulls back and looks at your face, “Is it Sam?” he huffs, and you can hear the unease in his voice, you can tell he’s forcing down a possessive growl.

“Why would it be anything to do with Sam? He’s my best friend, and that’s it. We both feel the same,” you sigh as he pulls away further, and you groan as your stomach rolls painfully.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ll let you rest, just pretend this never happened, okay?” he grits out, voice shaking as he backs away slowly.

“No, Dean, don’t. I didn’t mean you had to go!” you call after him, but before you can get up he’s already left, and you hear the back door slam closed.

Dinner had been really great, full of great conversation and stories of Sam and Dean when they were younger, not to mention the amazing food. It only made you more confused as to why Sam never cooked more often at home. But after ten minutes, something had changed with Dean, and he’d gone to eat in his room, claiming that he had to make a call for work.

You’re all now sitting in the living room, while Mary shows you photos of Sam and Dean when they were babies. When suddenly a wave of pain hits you from nowhere, and you grip Sam’s arm tightly.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, and he looks really worried as he takes you in.

“No. Something’s wrong,” you whimper, wiping at your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. Sam carefully helps you to your feet and you cling onto him tightly.

“Mine.” Comes a growl from the doorway, snapping everyone's attention away from you and towards Dean.

“Dean? What the hell do you mean ‘Mine’?” Sam questions defensively, putting himself between you and his brother, pushing your body behind him.

“Alpha,” you whine, reaching for Dean, and Sam has to hold you tighter against his side, so you don’t fall to the floor.

Everyone seems to be looking between you and Dean, before John groans quietly, “Fuck, I shoulda noticed earlier. Sammy you need to let her go, son,” he tells his youngest son gently, as he walks towards you and Sam.

Sam looks at his father as though he’s gone mad and holds you tighter.

“No way, clearly Dean’s lost his damn mind, he’s not going anywhere near her. I’ve kept her safe for years, but I didn’t think I’d have to protect her from my own family.”

Your eyes lock with Dean’s and you whimper as he starts to walk towards you, feeling the slick gathering between your thighs.

“Sam. Listen to me, Dean must be her mate. You said yourself that Y/N isn’t due a heat, right?” John asks calmly, stepping between his boys.

“Not for another two weeks, why? What the hell does that have to do with anything?!” Sam exclaims with disbelief.

“Well, your brother has literally just had his rut. So by rights, he was safe, unless…” John trails off, maybe hoping Sam is understanding.

“Sam, please. I need him,” you moan pathetically, as John growls at his eldest son warning him to step back, in an effort to calm the situation down.

“It must be another heat, Y/N, it’s the only explanation. You’re not thinking clearly-” you unintentionally cut Sam off, when a scream rips through your throat and you double over in pain, with Sam’s arms the only thing stopping you from hitting the floor.

Dean whimpers and looks around his father, locking eyes with his brother, looking like a scared puppy.

“Sammy, please. Let me help her,” Dean groans, running his fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“No. I’m the one who looks after her, not you,” Sam growls defensively.

You’re starting to lose consciousness, and your eyes are heavy, sweat dripping from your forehead. You’ve never felt anything this intense in your entire life. Suddenly a smaller pair of arms wrap around you and help you sit back on the sofa, you look up at Mary, and she’s barely in focus.

“Honey, I need you to focus, look at me okay.”

“Can’t, Mary. I’m so tired,” you slur, feeling the sofa dip the other side of you.

“Doll, listen to me, you can’t fall asleep, you’re burning up.” Comes John’s deep voice from your other side, and you lean into him when he presses a cool rag against your forehead.

“‘mega, tell me what you need, let me help,” Dean whispers, carefully cupping your cheeks in his big warm hands. You force your eyes open, and you can see the pain in his eyes, and the tick in his jaw as though he’s clenching his teeth.

“Alpha, please. Need you, don’t go,” you beg desperately, reaching out and grabbing his shirt in your fists. Dean’s hands cover yours and he tries to hush you gently, and you notice that you’re both alone in the room now. Your legs are still like jelly, so when you try and stand you practically collapse into Dean’s arms.

You nuzzle at his neck and purr as his scent surrounds you, feeling your vision clear slightly as your lips press against his skin.

“Not here,” Dean growls, his voice deep, husky and thick with need as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style, putting a stop to your attempt to push his shirt from his shoulders.

You clench your thighs together as another wave of arousal grips you, and you feel Dean’s fingers tighten against your body as he carries you up the stairs. When you reach the second door on the left, Dean walks inside and then kicks the door closed behind him. He heads over to the large bed and lays you down carefully, before sitting down beside you, and brushing the sweat soaked hair away from your face. The familiar feeling of your heat coursing through your body is even stronger than it’s ever been before, and you can feel yourself curling around Dean as soon as he lays down beside you.

“It hurts, Dean,” you whimper, hooking one of your legs over his body as he wraps his arms around you and you find yourself rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to find some kind of release.

“Shh, sweetheart, just breathe. You’re makin’ it real hard to be a gentleman right now,” his voice is practically a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite your lip as you look up at him, “I don’t want a gentleman, I want my Alpha. I want you.”

Dean’s arms tighten around you and you feel the growl in his throat right before you hear it, “Fuck you smell good ‘mega. I could smell you as soon as you walked through that door. Haven't stopped thinking about it since I first laid eyes on you.”

“I don’t understand how this all happened so fast, but I know you’re my Alpha, I can feel it,” you whisper as he cups your cheek and you feel relief flood your body when he pulls you into a kiss.

The kiss starts off careful and slow but quickly becomes more passionate, he gently pushes your hands back against the mattress, and you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from touching him.

“Stay there, baby, let your Alpha make it better,” he whispers against your lips between intense kisses that seem to be turning your body to liquid. Dean’s hands are exploring every inch of you, his touch is firm and a little rough, but it’s just what you need right now. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when he starts tugging at your clothes.

When he pulls away from your lips to look into your eyes, you gasp for breath, quickly realising only your panties remain. Dean hums in approval, cupping your breasts in his big hands and he gently flicks over your nipples with his thumbs, biting his lip as he watches your face for a reaction. You arch into his touch, desperate to feel more of him.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whine needily as Dean runs his fingers over your soaked panties.

Dean chuckles deeply, breath hot against your soft skin, and you shiver as he nips at your neck, “you want me to bite down just here,” he nips a little harder for emphasis, and you can’t help but moan as you struggle to nod. You arch your hips and moan his name as he pushes your panties aside, and he eases two thick calloused fingers inside your soaked entrance, slowly edging back and forth until they’re fully inside you.

“Mmm, of course you do, my needy little Omega. You want me to claim what’s mine? Want me to fuck you until you can’t see straight, and you’re coming all over my knot?” You can tell his instincts are taking over, his voice is deeper, and his touch is almost bruising, but in the best way.

Dean rips your panties away from your body with his free hand. You barely even feel the sting of them ripping, only the slight pressure on your clit as he pulls them up and off of you. Then he leans over you, and he starts to curl his fingers inside you, pressing his free hand to your stomach so everything intensifies as he picks up a steady pace. Then his hand shifts and his thumb presses against your clit, your hands immediately reach out, and you grab hold of the first thing you can. Your nails dig into his biceps as you hold on tight, feeling the muscle bulge and relax as he pushes towards release, the look in his eyes makes you want to give in to whatever he says.

There's just something about him being fully clothed and fully in control, while you’re naked and at his mercy that makes the Omega in you purr appreciatively.

Your stomach tightens and your pussy flutters around his fingers as he pushes you towards your first orgasm. You’re breathing heavy and writhing beneath him when suddenly he pulls his fingers free, and your body slumps against the bed, with a sheen of sweat coating your skin. You whimper as you look up at him, wishing you felt a little less pathetic, because you would kick his ass if he was one of the Beta’s you’d slept with before. But this is an Alpha - your Alpha.

Dean chuckles, leaning back as he starts to pull off his clothes, and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Oh my beautiful Omega, don’t make all of those pretty little noises right now. I promise I’ll make it better. But the first time you come for me I want it to be with my cock inside you, stretching out this tight little cunt.” You moan at his filthy words as he throws his shirt across the room, he’s perfect, and you can’t stop staring, unable to believe how lucky you are.

“Please, Alpha. I need to come so bad, wanna feel your knot.” The desperation in your voice is clear as you cling to the sweat soaked duvet under you.

His eyes lock with yours as a filthy and cocky smirk curls at his lips. You watch with bated breath as he pulls off his jeans and boxers, and his thick cock is freed from its confines.

“Hmm, am I your first Alpha, sweetheart? Your only Alpha? Is this the first knot you’re gonna take in that perfect little pussy?” Dean sounds far too pleased with himself as he asks those questions, but in the moment they only make you squirm more.

He strokes his cock slowly in one hand as he pushes his other hand between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit torturously slow. You don’t want to stop looking at him, but your entire body is shaking with need. You clench your thighs around his hand, trying your best to stave off your orgasm.

“Dean, please. I can’t hold it,” you whine desperately.

To your relief his hand falls away, and you suck in a breath, feeling the heat of his body pressed against you forces you to open your eyes.

“You ready?” he asks quietly, voice husky and thick with need, and you feel the wide head of his cock pressing against your wet entrance.

You can feel his thighs quivering against your own, it’s pretty obvious he’s holding himself back. You meet his eyes and swallow hard, knowing that you couldn’t go back now, even if you wanted to. You need him, you can feel it deep down.

“Don’t you want me on my hands and knees, Alpha?” you ask, voice breathy, and you shiver feeling his fingers digging into your thighs.

“I’m trying to take it easy on you here, ‘mega, don’t push me,” his voice has lowered to a growl, and you know you’re poking the bear, but you can’t seem to stop yourself, you need him to lose control.

You slowly drag your hand down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch, and you hear him suck in a breath when your hand wraps around his thick length.

“I can take it, Alpha, want you to fuck me like you mean it.” Dean grunts as your hand moves over him and you turn your head to the side, showing him your perfectly clear skin, free of any scars and stroke your fingers down the side.

“When you claim me, right here-” you don’t get time to finish your sentence, because Dean has pulled out of your grip and his rough hands flip you over and force you on your stomach.

You barely have time to suck in a breath before he’s hauling you up by your hips. Dean spreads your legs and the head of his wide cock presses inside you slowly, but then his hips snap forward, and you scream in pleasure as you lose your balance. Your fingers curl around your pillow and your back arches painfully, as he pulls out almost all of the way and snaps his hips forward again. The grip on your hips tightens, to the point you’re sure there will be bruises left behind.

“How’s that, my needy little Omega?” he growls, wrapping his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back harshly. You can’t speak, you can hardly breathe.

“Ah fuck! Dean, please let me come!” you scream feeling your pussy spasm around his cock when he picks up a steady rhythm, deep and slow, and so hard you feel like your body is going to snap in half.

“Wait. I decide where I claim you, is that fucking clear?” he growls snapping his hips forward roughly.

“Fuck! Yes. Whatever you want, Alpha,” you whine obediently, impossibly close to the edge of a mind shattering orgasm. But even your body is refusing to disobey your Alpha.

“Mmm, good girl. C’mere,” he pants, tugging you back against him by your hair and nuzzling your neck. You don’t struggle, in fact, you find yourself relaxing against him.

“You wanna come all over my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please, Dean, I need it,” you whine breathlessly, feeling his free hand roam your body slowly, as he cock continues to thrust into you teasingly.

“Then play with your clit while I fuck you. I wanna watch you fall apart, my desperate little ‘mega.”

The sheets are soaked beneath you both, his rut and your heat are in full effect now, and you know you’d do anything he asked.

You drop your shaking hand between your legs and start to rub circles into your clit, feeling your pussy clamp down around his throbbing cock. You cry out when Dean starts to pick up his pace, his thrusts are precise, rubbing perfectly against your g-spot.

“Ah! Alpha, right there!” you practically scream as he roughly tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side, exposing your neck and you feel his teeth gently tug at your skin.

The threat of him claiming you is enough to send you hurtling into the most powerful orgasm of your life. Your body shakes in his arms as he continues to fuck into you, your tight wet heat gripping him like a vice. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Dean’s wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you pinned against him because you’ve gone limp in his arms.

“So sexy when you come ‘mega, such a perfect little pussy. You want it, baby girl? You want me to make you mine?” he grits out breathlessly. Your head is swimming as you feel another orgasm burning in your stomach, but his words are enough to make you moan in agreement. Dean chuckles, pushing the sweat soaked hair over one of your shoulders, “c’mon, ‘mega, need to hear you say it.”

You tilt your head to the side again and feel his tongue against your skin, “take me, claim me, Alpha. Wanna be yours.”

“Oh fuck,” he moans sucking hard at your neck, “gonna make me come ‘mega, gonna fill you up,” his voice is a broken rasp as he fucks up into you, his pace brutal.

He lets out an animalistic growl when his own release finally hits, and sinks his teeth into your neck, then you feel his knot swell inside you. His knot catches against your entrance as his cock pulses inside you, pulling another scream from you as your second orgasm shoots through your entire body. Gasping, you both crash down onto the mattress, with Dean’s body wrapped around you.

Your bodies shake against one another as Dean pulls his teeth carefully from your neck, and licks softly at his claim mark. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you take a deep shaky breath, as a feeling of being complete finally settles over you.

Dean presses kisses along your shoulder and brushes his fingers through your damp hair.

“Remind me to buy Sammy a house for bringing you to dinner,” Dean chuckles, his voice hoarse from your time together.

You giggle and lace your fingers with his, his hand feels so big against yours but it feels right.

“Just a house, huh?” you tease playfully.

He presses a soft kiss to your claim mark and he drags his teeth over your ear lobe, “mmm you’re right, maybe a mansion,” he whispers, every word punctuated with a soft kiss and roaming hands. You can’t help but be a little nervous, this is all so sudden. What if he changes his mind about you?

His cock slips free suddenly as his knot retracts, and he turns you in his arms, so that you’re facing him. The soft smile on his face is completely disarming, and you can’t help but smile back.

“I can practically hear you thinkin’, ‘mega. I promise we’re gonna figure all of this out.”

You sigh softly and lean in, kissing him for the first time in what feels like forever. When you pull away his intense green eyes meet yours.

“It doesn’t make any sense, but I trust you, Dean. You and me, it just feels right,” you tell him, and the emotion you’re feeling causes your voice to catch a little.

“That’s because it is. So, what do you say we get ourselves ready and go down to see everyone?, I think we have a little explaining to do, my beautiful Omega,” he whispers tenderly, cupping your cheek and presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Probably a good idea, Alpha,” you agree, feeling a blush come to your cheeks as your fingers graze over the claim mark on your neck. You weren’t expecting your life to change so drastically in a day, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

All Tags: @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @simsadventures @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @death-unbecomes-you @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp

Dean/Jensen Tags: @hobby27 @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967 @screechingartisancashbailiff @maddiepants @spnfanfic-reblogs @holylulusworld @mrswhozeewhatsis @sonofabringmesomepie @deans-baby-momma @mrsjenniferwinchester @hhiggs @pisces-cutie @trina44sb @heartsaved @matsumama @adoptdontshoppets @beth-winchester21 @doctor-hp-mcu @mrspeacem1nusone @fanddoms4love @nihilismworld@noobwuvsj2 @lyarr24 @hearteyes-j2 @tatted-trina6 @deandreamernp @thoughts-and-funnies @weepingwillowphoenix

Pond Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @deanscarlett @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @deandoesthingstome @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @supermoonpanda @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester-blog1 @becs-bunker @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @maraisabellegrey-blog @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-business @there-must-be-a-lock @just-another-winchester @cas-backwards-tie @winecatsandpizza @firefly-in-darkness

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raineydays411 · 4 years ago

Text

So warm and tender

Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

A/n: Hello! finally the last part of Ember. I hope you guys like it and sorry for making y’all wait so long for the confrontation lol)

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

Y/n’s POV

“Aunt Pam?!” you say in shock as you stop struggling against the vine wrapped around your body.

“Y/n, is it really you?” your aunt said as the vine loosened its grip and gently lowered you on the ground. “ Where have you been? Everyone has been going crazy looking for you”

You don’t answer as you look at your aunt. You didn’t realise you missed her as much as you did but now all you want to do is throw yourself in her arms. So you did.Pam, sensing you needed comfort rather than an interrogation, wrapped her arms around you. “I missed so much my Petal.”

With those five words, all the hurt and pain you bottled up came out. and you cried.

As you cried, your aunt looked at the girl she hasn’t seen in eight years, and wondered what she’s been going through and if she did the right thing by giving you to your father all those years ago.

“Petal, I think you need to explain what’s going on”

You look up and sniff, “ Yeah, i think an explanation is well in order.” and you tell her everything. From the years of being ignored by your father, your last argument, the two weeks you spent in captivity, and your new powers.

“ And that’s when I found you.” You finish looking at the grim faces of Pam and the other woman, who now that you think about it looks really familiar.

“Oh, you poor puddin’!” you found your face being squished between two ands and then you were comically pressed against a body in a tight hug.

“Don’tcha worry bout a thing, me and Pammy will take care of everything, you just sit here and---” This seems familiar...

“ Harley, I don’t think she can breathe.” “Oh right, now you remember, it the blonde woman who used to sneak into the apartment”. You think to yourself as you struggle to get loose from her grip. You hear someone snicker and see Danny looking at the commotion.

“ Shut up Danny, where have you been?” You say, forgetting that you’re the only one who can see him.

“Exploring, do you thing she could hug me like that too?”

“ If you weren’t already dead, I’m sure they would kill you for that comment”

Pam and Harley look at each other in concern as it seems like you’re talking to yourself.

“ Hey kid, if you’re gonna talk to yourself, try an’ do it when other people can’t see you, like me.” The blonde says as if someone talking to themselves was a daily occurrence for her. You explain that with your powers, you were basically dead and can speak and see other dead people. Hearing that, Pam’s expression darkened

“He let you die?” she said in a grim tone. All the vines and plants in the room started whipping around angrily as if they were looking for the person who wronged you. It was then when you realized it wasn’t your Auntie Pam who taught you how to plant petunias you were looking at, this was Poison Ivy.

“ Men, you can never trust em’. Well, whadda say little flower, ya up for a little premeditated murder?” and that was the infamous Harley Quinn.

“ It would’ve been nice to know that you’re related to scary criminals y/n....” Danny said in a fearful voice. And if you were being honest you just found out that your aunt Pam was also the Poison Ivy but to be fair you haven’t seen her since you were like eight.

“I don’t want to kill him” you finally say. “ I don’t want anything to do with him. Nor his precious Spiderling.” The plants calm down as Ivy calmed down and was your aunt Pam again. “ What do you want to do?” she asks.

You think to yourself and say,” I want him to know how he made me feel, and then I want to stay with you.” Your aunt and Harley froze when you said that.

“Petal, there is nothing I want more than for you to stay with me again,” She started, “ But it isn’t safe for you to stay.” Your eyes started to water

“But I-I have powers now, I can defend myself! I won’t be any trouble, it’ll be like I’m not even here” At this point, anything was better than going back to being invisible. “Please...I don’t want to go back...”

Hearing the desperation in your voice broke Pams, Harleys, and Danny's heart. Pam because this was the daughter of her closest friend. She vowed to protect you from anything the day you came to her after losing your mother. Seeing you like this just reminded her how she, in her mind, has failed you. Seeing you so desperate to get away from the man who broke your heart reminded Harley of herself. The nights she would sneak into the tiny apartment you shared with Pammy, in hopes of escape only to get drawn back with empty promises. So yeah, she had a small soft spot for you. And Danny, you were the only person who saw him after months of being invisible. He felt like he needed to help you in your mission to get your father regret ignoring you.

“Hey Pammy...maybe we should call him...” Harley started to suggest.

“NO, I’d rather drink weed killer than go to that...orphan collector for help.” the red head spat. “ No. We’ll figure it out but she can stay here for now.”

Hearing that you had a place to call home now, gave you the motivation to go and confront your father. Not only for ignoring you, but for leaving you in that..cell for two weeks. He didn’t even attempt to look for you as far as you knew. You’d have thought at least one of the other Avengers would have came to save you. But no one came. After all those years, no one came.

“Y/n.. your eyes” Danny whispered, his cold hand touching your arm snapped you out of your mind. The neon glow of your eyes faded to your normal e/c.

“ Aunt Pam, Harley is there any way you guys can get me to New York and back?” You ask, finally ready to confront your father.

“ Well....” Harley say as with a smirk

~~~~~~~~~one terrifying ride on a stolen batplane later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving to New York you made Pam and Harley wait a few blocks away from the tower, as you really didn’t want the Avengers to find out your aunt was a wanted criminal. You “went ghost” as Danny like to call it and snuck into the Tower with ease. You then snuck into your room, seeing everything covered in a layer of dust as no one has been in there for over two weeks. You packed a bag and filled it with some clothes, books and a picture of you and your mother. You took that bag and walked to the door, looking around at the room that was both you prison and safe space. It was decorated with multiple trophies, medals, and ribbons all from the multiple sports and clubs you joined to impress your father. Not like that ever happened. Danny wander around looking at the multiple teams photos you had hung up.

“ You’re a volleyball girl?” he said, “ Huh. I’d never have had guessed.”

You rolled your eyes as you finished packing. “ Hey I have a job for you.” you say turning to him. “ I need you to go to the control room and turn off the power for thirty minutes. Then turn it back on and come find me in the common room.”

“ Yes ma’am” Danny says, saluting and disappearing through the wall before he comes back. “Ummm, wheres the control room?”

You roll your eyes and explain how to get to the control room and wait. When the lights go out and you’ll make your move. Your father would have to pass through the common room to get to the control room from his lab, which you assume he’ll be. There you’ll be waiting for him.

The lights go out. It’s showtime.

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

Tony's POV

The team spent three more days searching for you. They followed every lead and half of the team even flew out to the building that collapsed an hour ago. Tony, Steve, and Natasha stood behind to look at more clues. It was a little past midnight, and both Steve and Natasha went to bed leaving Tony to tinker in his lab. Tony was making improvements to a certain spider suit as he thought about what his daughter said to him before she went missing.

“Sir, there seems to be someone in Y/--” FRIDAY started to say when the power cut out.

“FRIDAY??” Tony questioned as he walked out to check the control room, making sure to get his nano bracelet just incase. As he walked down the hallway he thought about waking up Steve and if he was brave enough to wake Natasha when he heard it.

“Hi daddy.”

Tony stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up in disbelief. The lights turned back on to reveal his daughter. Wearing a black halter top, spandex leggings, grey boots with elbow length gloves. She looked skinny, as if she hadn’t had a proper meal in the weeks she was gone. And for some reason the air was cold in the room. But there she stood.

‘Y/n” Tony said breathlessly.

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

Y/n pov

As you wait for Tony to walk in,you look around the common room and reminisce. You think about the time when you first moved in, and you got lost trying to find the bathroom and accidently walked into Natashas room. YOu thought she was going to kill you but ended up walking you to the restroom and back to your room. Or when you made the volleyball team way back in eighth grade, and you ran home to tell your dad but ended up telling the whole team, who were rarely all together, and they all took you out to get ice cream, minus Tony. You had to admit, even though your dad didn’t pay attention to you, Nat and Steve did. As well as the whole team, but those two really became the parental figures in your life. That’s why it hurt when not even they came for you. Even they had forgotten you.

“Hi daddy” you said in a mocking voice. Your father stopped dead in his tracks, as he looked you over in disbelief.

“Y/n”, he said in a breathless voice.

“Oh, you remember my name?” You say in an sarcastic tone. “ Didn’t seem like you did when you left me in a hydra cell for two weeks.”

Hearing that you were a prisoner of Hydra made Tony’s blood freeze.

“Hydra? Oh Y/N are you okay? What did they do to you?” He asked frantically as he walk towards you with the intent of checking if you were injured. You jerk away from him, avoiding his touch and say

“ Oh, I’m wonderful. Just so fucking fantastic. I was just experimented on and injected with various liquids that caused excruciating pain. No big deal”

“ Y/n..we spent days trying to look for you. Me and the team--”

“You and the team what Tony? I was there for two weeks. TWO WEEKS I WAS POKED AND PRODDED. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.” You scream, anger filling your heart as you remember the agony you went through. You think about the scratches on the wall of the cells, the taunts from the guards, and screams of the undead.

“ You have no idea what I went through. What I’m going through.” You say, feeling your body grow colder as you lose control and start to shift. “ You don’t care about me. If I were Parker, you would have saved mem within SECONDS.”

“That's not true. Y/N you have no idea how much I love you.” Tony tries to say. He’s filled with the need to tell you everything he didn’t tell you before. “I know I haven’t always been the best father. Trust me I know that now. But if you give me a chance, I want to make everything right. Please.”

You didn’t think it would go like this. In fact you were not at all prepared for Tony to say this. You expected to walk in on him continuing his life as normal, tinkering in his lab and such. You had always yearned to hear him say those words to you. But now, they just fill you with anger.

“You think you could just tell me what I want to hear and what? I’ll just act like nothing happened?? I know you’re not that stupid.” You spit, the room growing colder as you get angrier. “ It’s too late for all that Tony. I’m not the same girl i was two weeks ago.i won;t take it any longer.”

“Y/n..your eyes” Tony says as he slowly starts to put his gauntlet bracelet on, realising that you are becoming a threat.

“ Oh do you like them?”, You ask “ This is what happened when they injected me. I can also do this.” You shift, shades of blue taking over brown skin. Tony stared at you in awe and a bit of fear.

“ Y/n this isn’t you. I know you’re angry but--” “ Isn’t me?” You interrupt.” You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m like. And even if you did the old me died in that cell. Literally I died” You and Tony stared at each other. and that's when you heard the doors open. Two sets of footsteps started rushing to the commotion.

“Y/N some red head and beefy blonde are on their way” You hear Danny say as you realize you had to wrap it up. If anyone can convince you to stay, it’s Steve and Nat.

“ It doesn’t matter anymore Tony.” you say as you start walking to the window. “ I can’t stay here anymore. There’s nothing for me. You win. Peter can be the child you always wanted cause from now on, consider me dead.” and with that, you phase threw the window and let yourself fall, knowing that you won’t actually fall as you can fly.

Tony freaks out and calls for his suit, only to see a blue blur shoot up and across the sky. Then he just sits there and stares. The footsteps reach the common room and he hears someone ask

“ Stark..what was all the yelling. What's going on?”

“she's gone” He says, and that's when he truly realizes his mistake. He became what he never wanted to become. He became his father. And now you were gone.

Taglist: @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 4 years ago

Text

Soft Pretzel

A request by @ittoehurt in which the reader has been feeling sick lately and finds out they are pregnant with Peter’s kid. But she isn't sure if he would even want to have a kid with her. I put my own little twist on it, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: None really, mostly pure fluff, a little angst

Word count: 1780

You were currently huddled over a toilet throwing your soft pretzel up. Jubilee was with you holding your hair back. “I’m so sorry Jubilee.” You choked out in between your sickness. You laid your head against the toilet bowl, much to her protests.

“No honey it’s okay.” She reassured you by moving your head from the public toilet to lay on her shoulder. You wrapped your arms around your stomach as if willing it to keep down your food.

“You can leave me here, go have fun with Kurt and the gang.” You smiled weakly and she just softly shook her head at you. You guys were supposed to be having a fun day at the carnival, when you suddenly felt sick and rushed off to the bathroom. Peter had wanted to go with you but Jubilee insisted that he couldn't just go into a woman’ bathroom like that.

“I am not leaving you here. You know that.” She brushed your hair away from your face. “I told you not to eat that carnival food, it always makes me sick.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of even eating anything at the pop up carnival. Especially when she saw the buckets of grease that everything was marinating in. Peter had eaten something from every stand as you guys had walked around together and he was in no mindset to stop soon. But for once he felt his appetite disappear as he waited for you outside of the bathroom. His foot anxiously tapping against the pavement.

Truth be told you knew it wasn’t the pretzel was what had made you so sick. You had woken up on many occasions recently hurling into a toilet, you were always careful to never wake Peter up when you slipped out of bed to spill your guts. It had been a while since your last period as well. Your suspicions were confirmed when you took a pregnancy test a couple days ago. You had driven to the store to buy one after your morning classes. Peter wasn't home in your shared apartment when you took it, and when you saw those two lines appear you knew you were screwed. You had sat in the bathroom for god knows how long crying a mix of tears.

You and Peter had been together for a while now. You had met him in high school in your science class, he was your lab partner. He cracked some dumb chemistry joke and you fell in love with him right then and there. You guys started dating and at homecoming he admitted that he was a mutant, he had been so nervous on how you would react. He loved you so much and he hated the idea of ruining it because he was different. But you could care less, you told him that it didn't change the way you felt about him and when you said you thought his superspeed was really cool he was whipped. You guys had been together a couple years now, you had even taken the next step and moved in together, not wanting to spend the rest of your days making out in his mom’s basement. He had become a member of the x-men and you took classes at the local university. Everything seemed so perfect. And now there was a chance of ruining it all. You and Peter were in your early 20’s you two hadn’t even talked about having children, heck you hadn't even thought about it yourself. You didn't even know if he would want a kid with you, he was so young and this was both of yours first relationship. You felt as if you were going to tie him down to something he never even wanted.

You bit your lip debating on telling Jubilee what had been bugging you for the past few weeks. She saw your brow furrowed and turned to face you. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again.” She got up to leave. “I’ll go get you some water.” You grabbed her hand before she could leave.

“The pretzel isn't what made me sick.” You admitted quietly, curling into yourself even more. She silently urged you to go on, sitting back down and taking your hands in hers.

“I’m pregnant,” You admitted, staring at your lap, not wanting to meet her eyes, in fear that you would see disappointment in them.

The bathroom was eerily quiet until Jubilee let out a happy squeal and tackled you in a hug. You nearly fell over onto the floor.

“Omg (y/n)!!! You and Peter are going to have a kid together!! They’re going to be so cute! Especially if they look like you, I don’t know how they’ll look if they get Peter’s genes.” She rambled happily. You let out a little laugh at her excitement, but your heart was still heavy.

She calmed herself down and her tone turned serious. “Have you told Peter yet?’

You fiddled with your hands. “No I haven’t.”

“How come?’ It wasn’t a judgmental question that Jubilee asked and you could sense the question was more for your benefit than for his.

“I just don't know he would even want a kid with me. We’re both so young and I don’t want to trap him into a relationship he never wanted.” You admitted, tears threatening to form.

“Oh Honey.” Jubilee pulled you into a tight hug. “Peter loves you so much, I just know he would want a kid with you. It might be a shock but he’s talked about spending his life with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes really, that boy is so whipped for you it’s so funny.” She joked as she pulled away. She wiped your tears away gently and helped you off the floor. “You should tell him though, it's only fair.” You nodded your head in agreement and you excited the stall together.

“Can you give me a minute to fix myself? I look like a mess.” You laughed.

“Sure.” Jubilee left you alone to tidy yourself in the mirror. The minute she stepped out of the bathroom Peter bombarded her with questions.

“How is she? Is she okay? Does she wanna go home?”

“Chill out she’s fine.” Jubilee replied, trying her best to hide her smile. She turned to Kurt and the rest of the gang. “Let’s go get a spot to watch the fireworks, (y/n) and Peter will catch up later.”

They left Peter to his thoughts and he began to wonder why she wanted to leave you two all alone. The longer he sat there the more his thoughts drifted to negative ones. You came out a couple minutes later and Peter was immediately by your side. “Hey I missed you, are you okay?” You smiled at him nervously and took his hand in yours. “We need to talk.” Peter felt his heart stop at those words, but squeezed your hand in response.

You led him over to an empty bench that was at some distance from the rest of the crowd. “Peter I-”

Before you could even continue Peter interrupted you. “Are you breaking up with me?” He asked in a small voice.

“What no.” You cupped his face with both your hands. “No, nothing like that I could never break up with you. I love you too much.” You kissed him softly and he returned it. You pulled away running your thumb absentmindedly across his cheek. He moved his hand to cup yours.

“What is it then?” You felt your heart pounding in your chest, drowning out all the noise around you.

You wet your lips before meeting his gaze. “I’m pregnant Peter.” You were met with silence and immediately you took it as a rejection and started to ramble. “It’s yours but don't worry I’m not asking for anything and if you don’t want to have the kid I can raise them on my own. I can go back with my parents and I-”

“You're pregnant?” Peter repeated softly a smile starting to form on his lips. “I’m going to be a dad.” You nodded your head silently. “I’m going to be a dad!” He screamed lunging towards you and picking you up. He spun you around in circles, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

“Peter!” You squealed. He gently set you back down and held your face in his hands.

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? (y/n) I couldn't be happier!” Your face broke out in a smile. “I love you so much, we’re going to be amazing parents!” He took you back in his arms, holding you tight and pressing kisses to the top of your head. You felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulder. “We have to tell the gang!”

Peter wanted to get there as fast as possible but settled for walking when he realized that the sudden speed might upset your stomach. “Peter I’m not that delicate.” You protested.

“Not taking any chances babe! You’re carrying very precious cargo!” He rubbed your stomach slightly as if there was a bump there already. You let out a light laugh and he pulled you even closer. When you met up with the rest of the gang the fireworks had already started. Peter scared everybody by shouting at the top of his lunges that he was going to be a dad. He slapped Scott on the back with a hearty laugh nearly knocking his sunglasses off.

“Watch it, Maximoff.” Jean stifled a laugh next to him. “Good luck spending the rest of your life with that idiot.”

You laughed and and Peter whined. “Babeeee.”

Jubilee pulled you into a side hug, watching as Peter told random strangers that he was going to be a Dad, they just awkwardly congratulated him and he smiled proudly. “I see he took the news well.”

“What!” Peter exclaimed as he sped back to your side. “You told Jubilee before me!” He proclaimed with mock hurt. You just rolled our eyes and nudged him playfully.

“Yeah cause she likes me better!” Jubilee joked pulling you closer to her.

Peter yanked you back to his side. “Not in a million years Lee.” He kissed the top of your head. You guys settled onto the grass with the rest of the group, you leaned back into Peter’s chest. He rested his head in the cook of your neck inhaling your scent. “Thank you.” He whispered.

You closed your eyes at his soft touch. “For what?”

You felt him smile and hug you closer, hands resting gently on your stomach. “For giving me everything I could have ever wanted.”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver #quicksilver xmen #xmen x reader #quicksilver xmen x reader #xmen fanfiction #xmen #fanfic #peter maximoff fanfiction #request #oneshot #headcanon #peter maximoff headcanon

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

Text

Learn to Fly

CW: Self-loathing, some internalized victim-blaming, references to parental death and grief, VERY vague reference to past noncon once or twice

Note: I made a decision to switch a little of the timeline around, so Laken and Chris’s breakup at this point happens after the original conversations about the Speak Out Arc start happening but before the Olympics themselves. I’m folding this bit into the larger Speak Out Arc.

Follows Time Apart and It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped

He curls up on the couch in the coffeeshop, sipping something warm he barely tastes. It might have coffee in it - he feels a little drowsy, and that usually happens when there’s just a little caffeine.

Maybe that’s just because he hasn’t slept since Jake was hurt, not really. And he’s slept even less since... since he and Laken broke up.

Outside, there's unseasonable heavy rain. The clouds are low and heavy, a deep gunmetal gray that blocks out the light and has the streetlights on at 9:30 in the morning. The raindrops seem less to fall than to slam into the ground with terrible violence.

The baristas talk in low voices about how grateful they are for the rain, burying the wildfires outside the city in a deluge the heat can’t overcome. Chris likes the rain, too, if only because it reflects the inside of him, suggests that the world can tell he is a storm within himself and reflects it to him.

He takes another sip.

He hasn’t showered in three days. His hair is dulled with it, like a penny left too long in the dirt. He’s dressed himself like he used to, back before when he was still learning he was a person and not a pet - in one of Jake’s hooded sweatshirts over his compression shirt, so oversized on him it’s nearly a tunic, and a pair of mesh basketball shorts. His knees still look knobby, he thinks.

He can see the ghosts of the bruises there that used to never quite heal before his Sir sent him to his knees and made new ones to lay over them. He can see a couple of scars, some from training when the baton would crack into the backs of his legs and send him dropping like a stone, some from gymnastics, some from just being a kid.

Chris’s eyes lower, to look at his own hands holding his coffee cup. He put star stickers on his nails last night, and a few of them have already peeled off. Those that remain glitter, just a little.

Something about the sight of it - the memory of when he put star stickers on Laken’s cheekbones at a concert until they sparkled under the starlight, laughing, a blur of bright eyes and dark hair - makes his throat nearly close, sends a new rush of tears to burn hot behind his eyes.

He has to close them to hold them back.

“You’ve had a hard time of late, have you, then?”

The voice is a rumble, cracked with decades of cigarettes and too much liquor, but Chris remembers it, anyway. At least, he remembers it now.

He turns to look up at the old man, in his shirt and slacks, a bit bent with age. There’s a merry twinkle in his slightly rheumy eyes, though, that shows that a young man is still there, under an old man’s experiences. There’s a slight smile on his face, warm and welcoming.

Chris swallows, struggling to find the words. They flit away from him, he has to chase them down, but eventually he manages to clear his throat and says, “I, I, um. I know you. You, you, you knew my dad.”

“I did, at that. Worked with him for years.” The old man settles onto the other end of the couch, giving Chris plenty of space, a nice wide berth for safety. “What’s got you looking like a television commercial for depression, hm, Tristan?”

No one calls him that.

Chris feels his heart twist, a little.

By the time they saw the meteor, Tris, it was already too late for anything but a blink or two. When it touched down into land, it was so big the end of it was still in space. Can you imagine anything so big? Can you?

No, Dad.

The earthquakes alone would have been immense thousands of miles away. Imagine, you’re eating leaves, living your life, and you see a shadow - and then in an instant, the world is shaking and you’re breathing glass. How does life go on after that?

I, I, I don’t know, um, um... how how does it?

It just does. That’s what’s amazing, Tris. It just goes on.

“Nothing. I, I, I broke up with my, my partner is all.”

“Hm, that nice young person who comes with you to the shops?” The old man nods, slowly. He’s got his own cup of coffee, plain black, steaming gently into the air-conditioning. Outside, the rain creates a curtain that walls them off from everything else. Chris can’t even see all the way across the street. He can barely see a woman with an umbrella racing from her car into the nail salon place off to the side.

“Yeah, them. I’m, um. It wasn’t anything they they they did.”

It’s something I did.

It’s something I am.

It’s something I’ll never stop being.

“Well, breakups do happen now and again. Usually the one who does the leaving isn’t the one who does the moping about and staring at rain, though.”

“I didn’t want to.” Chris sits back, keeping his coffee cup in one hand. The other drops to his stomach, to tap, soothing his nerves at being so close to a man he knows and doesn’t-know. His memories are there, fuzzy and hazy from being overwritten by fear and pain, but they’re there. He knows this man, Mr. Malley, who would watch him sometimes when his parents went out, or when his father needed to stop by work.

The memories are there, but they still hurt.

His head starts to throb, a pulsing pain behind his temples.

“I didn’t-... I, I love them, I d-didn’t want to.”

“Well, now, that’s a conundrum, isn’t it? Are you moving, then, Tristan?”

It hurts to hear his name, but it hurts in a way that feels good. He was that person, too, before he was Chris. He hums, low under his breath. “No. I, I, I just… you know, um, I’m just. I’m… hard. Difficult. To, to, to, to be with, to, um, to-... there’s a bunch wrong with-... with me.”

“You sound like your dad.” Mr. Malley laughs, a deep chuckle that rumbles more in his chest than out of his throat. “You know that? You sound just like him.”

Chris ignores the pain in his head and he turns, now, to look fully at Mr. Malley, blinking rapidly. “My, my, my dad?”

“Yep. Paul was a good man, and a good dad, but before he was that he was a scared boy with a baby on the way and a plan that might not work.” Mr. Malley sighs. “A scared boy who’d always had it a little rough, trying to make the world work for him when it did nothing but work against him. You were always his spitting image. He’d probably be tickled to see you still are.”

There is a sense, in Chris’s mind, of a blurry man with short red hair, sitting near him but not quite touching him, speaking with animation about how there are dinosaurs that lived closer to human beings than they did to other dinosaurs.

He remembers a man whose eyes sparkled with animated focus when he talked about the world millions of years ago, who loved him by sharing the information he held within his own mind.

He and his dad had understood each other, in ways that no one else did but his mother, and Chris was beginning to see that it had been her determination to know him that had fueled his mother’s actions, her endless support. The same way Jake and Nat were determined, and stubborn, and kept trying even when they got it wrong.

Everyone gets it wrong sometimes, but that doesn’t… that doesn’t mean they aren’t trying.

Maybe he got it wrong.

“He never broke up with your mom, but oh, he thought about it. You know, when he came to work with us, he had a plan. But plans… they have a way of going off the road and into a ditch. He worried he couldn’t make it work, he worried that it would be too hard for Ronnie to be with him and have a child, too.”

Ronnie.

Chris’s throat closes up, and he closes his eyes.

All right, Tris, I got you these so the noise won’t bother you so much. We’re going to have a good day at the parade, okay?

“Her family never liked him, for one. That’s a rough spot to be in, I think.” Mr. Malley is quiet for a moment, sipping his coffee and watching the rain fall. “Ronnie didn’t see it that way, of course. That woman was a freight train and God help anyone who got in the way. My late wife, God rest her soul, helped Ronnie with some things when her own family wouldn’t. She’d come over big as a house, eyes sparkling. You were a kicker, she used to say, kept her up all hours of the night. Just a girl, still, your mom, but she had a steel spine and she wasn’t going to live any life but the one she wanted. But your dad… he worried, that it would be too hard on her.”

“Having, um, having me would?”

“No. Having him. Paul was a smart man, you know. He knew his job would be trouble. He gave her chance after chance to go, if she wanted. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? She didn’t.”

Chris looks at his phone, lying on the little table in front of the couch. There’s some text messages he hasn’t looked at. Couple of voicemails he hasn’t listened to.

“Maybe he, he, he didn’t want to keep hurting her,” Chris whispers.

“Hurt’s a part of living, lad, take it from someone who’s given out his fair share of it and more.” Mr. Malley hums. Outside, a car pulls up, almost bumping the curb. “Perhaps you’re meant to separate from your young partner, Tristan, perhaps not. It’s like I told your dad, way back in the Stone Age. You choose if you love someone, to be sure, but they choose if they love you back. You can’t decide that for them.”

“But, but I’m-... but, but I’ve been… what I am, it’s-”

“I know what you’ve been made to do,” Mr. Malley says gently. “You don’t have to explain, lad. We knew.”

Chris’s lips tremble. He doesn’t want his coffee any longer. He sets it down next to his phone, on the little table. The baristas talk quietly about a date that one went on the night before, there’s a low sound of machinery. It all filters into Chris’s mind, a cacophony of sound he picks apart or doesn’t. Right now it’s hard for him to think around all the sound, but he tries. “Then, then, then why… if you knew, um, why… didn’t you-”

He can’t finish the question.

Why didn’t you save me from it?

“We couldn’t. It’s shite, is what it is, but we couldn’t. And by the time we could, you were with that nice young man who you live with now. I’m sorry for the time you lost, Tristan, and sorrier still I can’t give it back to you somehow. You’re your dad’s child through and through, but you’ve got your mother in you, too. You know what Ronnie did when there was something she couldn’t get through?”

Chris turns to look at this man, who knew his mother and father in ways he never could have. He swallows. “What?”

“She went over it. Or around it. Or blew it to smithereens and went through the wreckage. Whatever it took. They tried to kick you out of school when you were a wean, she fought them ‘til they realized they’d never win against her. They tried to tell her you wouldn’t read, she told them to go, well, to go sit on a thing or two and not to tell her what her boy could or couldn’t do.”

Chris thinks of Nat sitting next to him on the floor, patiently encouraging him to keep trying to turn the letters into words, despite his headaches, his tears, his certainty he’d never get reading back.

You will, Chris. I know you will. Just keep fighting for it. They won’t take anything from you forever, I won’t let them and you won’t let them either.

Don’t let them keep you from yourself.

“They told her she’d never have a happy life, having a wee one so young, but she built that happy life anyway with her own two hands and dared anyone to try and knock it down.”

“Someone… some, someone did, though.” The gunshots, his mother’s eyes going dull and blank, her whispered I love you so much, Tris…

“Sure. Yes.” Mr. Malley’s expression goes serious, and sad. “But it took breaking into her house at midnight and bullets to stop her. You’ve got plenty of your mom in you, lad. Plenty of your dad, too, he was always a stubborn git himself. Do you love this person you’ve broken up with? Hm?”

“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation, even though his voice shakes and his heart races. “I, I, I do. That’s, that’s why I don’t want to-to keep hurting them by, by, by by being messed up from what, um, from what happened to me, I don’t… I don’t want to keep h-hurting them-”

“Let them decide how they feel about that,” Mr. Malley says, voice gentle and low. “Plenty of people are hurt and find their way forward together after.”

Jake and Kauri, laughing in the kitchen as Jake spins Kauri around in a circle, dips him backwards, presses a kiss to his nose that has him giggling.

Antoni at the stove, sighing but with a smile on his face, watching them. Being pulled into the hug not quite against his will, all three of them laughing then. Kauri bright and sparkling, Jake a deeper harmony, Antoni soft and genuine.

“Maybe it won’t last, maybe it will - but don’t let a hard past keep you from the people who love you. I’ve seen many ruined by believing you may only be loved if you’ve no pain inside you. We’ve all got pain, lad. Carrying it together’s a sight easier than trying to go it alone.”

From the car parked right outside, an elderly man unfolds himself, opening an umbrella to shield from the driving rain. Mr. Malley looks up and smiles. “Ah, right on time, must be ten sharp. That’ll be Cilly. D’you remember Cilly, lad?”

Chris looks as the man shuffles his way inside, pushing open the door. The little bell over the top jingles and the baristas cut off their conversation, standing up straight to call out a familiar greeting to a regular customer.

He squints.

“Not… not very well,” He confesses, a little ashamed.

“Ah, well, that’s not a problem. He and I’ve known each other a long time. I was an angry man for a while after my wife died, you know. Seemed a crime that I should outlive her, when Christa deserved to live to a hundred and six if she so wished. Cilly helped me carry that anger when I needed to be angry, and he helped me put it down later on.”

He gives a wave to the man - to Cilly - who looks at Chris and then back to Mr. Malley with clear surprise, then heads towards the counter to make his own order.

“Be angry, Tristan,” Mr. Malley says, a little heavily, leaning over to him on the leg as he pushes himself, with a grunt of effort to his feet. “You may need your anger, in the days ahead. But if you’ve a love to help you carry it, who wants to help you carry it and who will be angry right there with you, and you love them back… well… don’t let the wickedness of others keep you from the happiness you could have. You’ll be a poorer person for it.”

Mr. Malley walks away without another word, leaving Chris by himself again on the couch, tapping at his stomach, thinking. He keeps looking at his phone, thinking about all the texts he hasn’t read, the way he’s refused to call them back when Laken kept trying to reach him.

He leans over to reach out.

He stops, hand hovering just above the plastic with its colorful case, the sensory sticker on the back of it that Laken had bought him.

What happened after all the dinosaurs died, Tristan?

I, I, I don’t know, Dad.

Trick question, buddy. They didn’t. Paul’s eyes, bright and vibrant, gesturing to a bird in a tree nearby. Nothing stays the same and lives forever except alligators and sharks.

Right because, because they’re perfect.

Exactly. Dinosaurs died, sure, but they didn’t die, too. They just changed to suit the world after the one they knew how to live in was gone. Imagine, Tris.

Imagine what?

Imagine the world destroyed and in darkness, buried in ash. Everything you know is gone, ruined, wrecked beyond repair. And imagine… imagine that you learn to eat seeds and little mice instead of big animals and leaves. Imagine you become smaller and smaller. Imagine that your arms turn to wings, that your bones hollow out to carry you higher above the piles of ash that turn to grass and to life again.

What? I, I, I don’t, um, I don’t understand-... Dad, um, I don’t, I don’t... know what you mean.

Right, sorry. Just... imagine you’re a dinosaur.

He’d laughed. Okay.

Now imagine your dinosaur family is gone, and you have to become something else. What do you become? Being a dinosaur means dying, right?

Um. Right.

So imagine that you look at death and say, no thanks. No, you’re not going to be over. This isn’t it for you. Even a meteor the size of the entire sky can’t end you. Instead of dying out, no, you look at history, at geological time, and you say…

Paul had trailed off.

Say what? What, what do I say?

Don’t tell your mom but-... you look at the end of the world and you say... fuck this, I’m going to learn to fly.

Chris picks up his phone, finds Laken’s name and photo in his contacts. It’s a photo of the two of them together, Chris and Laken smiling and laughing as he smears whipped cream on their nose and they smear a cross of fluffy white into his forehead.

He dials.

They pick up on the third ring.

“Chris? Oh my God, Chris, are you okay? Are you-... are you okay, baby?” Their voice shakes, and he closes his eyes.

This time, he lets the tears slip out and run down his face. “H-Hey, Laken, um, I, I, I-... I’m… I wondered if you, um, if you could, uh… are you busy?”

“Am I-... Chris, where are you?”

“The, um, the coffeeshop-”

“I’m on my way. Don’t you dare fucking move.”

At their usual table, at their usual time, Cilly and Sean Malley start to talk amicably about the week ahead. But he keeps an eye on Paul’s boy, where he speaks a few sentences and then hangs up the phone, looking out the window at the rain.

It’s twenty minutes before a new car pulls up outside, and umbrella-less, the partner Sean has seen with Tristan before comes racing inside, a blur of black clothes and black hair and brown skin. Paul’s boy stands, and his partner throws themself at him so hard the two of them fall backwards onto the couch.

They start laughing, and shortly after to cry.

Their hands come up to either side of Tristan’s face, and they lean forward to kiss the scar on his forehead. He can’t hear what they say to each other, but he doesn’t need to.

Ronnie, he thinks, would like this spitfire person that Paul’s boy is so in love with.

That’s one wrong put right, at least for the moment.

One more to go.

Sean smiles and sips his cooling coffee.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

Just Go On from Kimmy Schmidt

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