#so me and my peers in school never gave a shit about it

[mbat]

btw more twilight hating but i think its funny hearing about the love triangle stuff now cause anytime i hear about the movies it just sounds like bella and edward were all over eachother and jacob was just there trying so hard to butt in and have bella. thats not a triangle thats a line with some little thing on the side trying to make a new shape

[snekdood]

ppl sexualizing me so much honestly has pushed me further into being ace bc i feel so uncomfortable about being seen for just how sexy someone finds me and want no part of that

[cvnt4him]

No nut november. ᯓ shoyou hinata.

Synopsis ᯓ ❝ in hopes of besting his peers in a challenge hes never participated in, he tries his hardest to last throughout the entire november. how does it all turn out?❞

warnings ➪ dry humping, sub!M?, slight choking, m4f

Day 1, ೃ࿔ 𝑐𝑣𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯!

Your longtime boyfriend of 6 years had been back from Brazil for some time. He'd gotten acquainted with a new team the black jackels and even seen some friends from your high school days. Kageyama, tsukishima, and some of his new teammates such as bokuto and atsumu and more.

It was the last night of October, a beautiful fall night. One last day to see everyone's decorations out on display the flashing lights the pumpkins and more. It was all so festive.

You looked out the window before the conversation of the men in your living room had caught your attention once more.

You headed back inside to hand shoyou and the other boys another shot, although you felt as if they hadn't needed them. Your boyfriend gave you a wide smile, his eyes crinkling from the smile. His cheeks were flushed with a dust of pink it was awfully adorable.

He grabbed you and sat you down on his lap with a kiss to your forehead before taking the shot you handed him.

“ so, you guys participating next month?”

Eyes landed on the cocky blonde as he smirk and took his shot. He had some drink as a chaser and swallowed harshly with a sigh before continuing,

“ y'know, NNN?”

“ I'm sorry, what?”

Kei asked with a cocked brow.

If he had something to say why didn't he just say it instead of beating around the bush like some loser.

“ NNN? c'mon. tell me at least ONE of you knows what that is.”

Atsumu looked around to see everyone just blankly staring at him, besides shoyou who for some reason had his eyes trained on you with that same lovey dovey smile.

Kageyama hadn't had a single thought behind those stupid eyes, bokuto however seemed to be thinking hard about it.

“ oh! you mean no nut november, yeah?!”

“ yes! thank you kotarou!”

“ oh. yeah, that was not clear.”

“ why didn't you just say that.”

Kageyama and tsukishima blurt out at the irritated man, he rolled his eyes before turning his attention to shoyou who hadn't been listening in the slightest.

“ so, ninja,—”

The ginger turned his gaze to the man before his smile dropped. He hummed in acknowledgement turning his head to the side.

“ what about you?”

Your brows furrowed lightly. Hinata is very easily persuaded, one thing said and he'll easily be sold. You know how easy he is, just as soon as you were about to shut it down he spoke.

“ what about me?”

“ y’gonna be apart of no nut november?”

“ what's that?”

Atsumu face palms before he goes through the lengthy process of explaining it to him.

“ so, for the whole month of November I just have to not get my dick wet? sounds easy enough. but I'm not so sure if I— ”

Kageyama scoffs as he choked down the rest of his drink.

Shoyous gaze shit directly to kageyama, his eyes squinting slightly.

“ something to say.”

“ hm, jus’ that you're not gonna be able to last. I mean you're literally a sex addict. you can't go one day without sex”

You felt the groan Hinata released against your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He was slowly getting angry and the drinks that have sat in his system for some time aren't helping.

“ just because I have a sex life doesn't mean I'm an addict. some of us value the time we spend with our partners.”

Tsukishima gave kageyama an eyeing look with a smirk, this didn't go unnoticed by you. What were those shitiots planning..

“ oh? so you're insinuating that you can last out the entire month with no action?”

Tsukishima chimes in with a melody laced in his tone. He was trying to dish out something just as the dark haired male was.

“ I'll believe it when I see it.”

Kageyama adds making atsumu snicker. They successfully got shoyou to agree to doing something they all knew he would manage in.

“ woah woah woah, let's make this interesting eh?”

Atsumus sudden words grabbed the attention of everyone their eyes shooting to his direction of the room where he sat in the floor in front of the glass table in your living room.

“ whoever fails this months challenge has to....hm, lets say.....buy us all dinner at that new expensive restaurant.”

Just as you were about to object in solidarity to your beloved boyfriend he hurriedly blurts out

“ deal.”

You turn to look back at him with a confused look.

Was he actually serious.

There's no way in hell, your boyfriend shoyou hinata was going to last. He just couldnt.

“ are you serious right now?”

You murmur down to your boyfriend beneath you.

He looks up at you and nods with a dead set look. He genuinely believed there was no way he was going to cum this month. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol running through his body or if it was just him but he had this sudden boldness and it made his mouth run.

Everyone there knew he was fucked however.

Within the first day hinata was actually doing pretty well, and he made sure to let everyone at his practice know.

He was in high spirits and in the locker room boasted with the other participants on how he hadn't came yet.

“ it's been exactly 18 hours since we spoke about the challenge and I haven't cum yet!”

Atsumu turns to the ginger and snorts,

“ we just started. It'd be rather embarrassing if you had failed already.”

Snickers were earned from his fellow teammates although some hadn't known what was going on, others connected the dots.

Shoyo blushed in embarrassment before murmuring things to himself and storming out with a pout.

Day one down, twenty nine to go.

Shoyou had the next couple of days off due to snow coming, he was very excited about it! Hed get to stay home with his lover and drink hot cocoa, and watch movies, and maybe play in the snow!!!! And best of all, he'd be doing it with you! How great is that!

Next to volleyball, you are the only thing in this life that gives it meaning. He truly stands by that. He cares so much about you that sometimes he just does things for you without noticing it.

Whether it be small things like when he's shopping on his own he'll mindlessly grab you pads.

Or big things like making breakfast or dinner to get a load off of you. Or helping you wash your hair when you shower together, running you a warm bath etcetera, he truly does these things because he cares.

Shoyou held you close and let the warmth beneath your cover and the heat radiating from your body consume him, he was so comfortable he hadn't wanted to move. He smiled to himself as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, your face was nuzzled in his chest as he did so.

“ grand rising my love.”

As you stretch you can't help but to snicker at his weird way of saying good morning to you.

“ what the hell shoyou , what kind of good morning is that!”

“ I heard it on the radio the other day, haha! It's the first time in a really long time that I've actually gotten to say good morning to you...let me make you breakfast, hm?”

You hum, as good as that sounds you'd much rather lie in bed with your boa. His warmth is just far too comfortable to get up from. His large hand squeezed your thigh gently as his thumb rubbed across it.

It was a nice feeling. Speaking of, it created such inside. You felt a need start to ignite within you. This comfort and vulnerable moment you two are having, it's one you hadn't had in a while. You wanted him.

You pulled him into a quick kiss and looked him in his eyes before pulling him in for another. You hold his head as his other hand holds the back of your neck, he hums lightly into the kiss pulling closer to him deepening it.

The small mewl that left you turned him on a lot quicker than either of you expected, his growing hard on started poking against your thigh and before he knew it he was lighting grinding against it.

He lets out a shaky "oh" as you move to his neck to pepper light yet wet kisses onto the skin. It was quick to have his breath shaking and his eyes fluttering.

By accident you thigh brushed harshly against his cock which made him squeak catching your attention.

You look down at his hard cock which causes him to do the same.

A small smile appeared on your face as you look back up to him with a giggle. His face was flushed and he quickly jumped out of bed.

“ I'd uh-, better get started on that uhm, br- breakfast!!”

He scurried out of your shared room and rushed to the kitchen.

These past few days were hard, he wouldn't lie. You weren't making this challenge any easier either! He stopped showering with you by the fourth day due to accidentally getting hard when you two were kissing inside of it.

Six days in and he was nearly cracking. You were walking around in some shorts that were really short. They hugged your ass so perfectly he just couldn't look away.

His cock twitched beneath his shorts as he gulped down hardly. Trying his hardest to fight the feeling inside, fight the thoughts that were yelling at him to bend you over. To let you do whatever you wanted to him, anything!

“ sho? you okay?”

You ask your boyfriend as you sit next to him on the couch, he had just died in whatever game he was playing on your living room TV and hadn't moved.

“ ..h...huh? w-what? oh! yeah! hah! I'm err.., I'm fine!”

“ y’sure? you've been acting weird all week... Is it because of that silly challenge! urgh.. shoyou, I told you not to do it.”

“ ... what? no you didn't!”

“ it was implied stupid! why would you agree to do this stupid challenge you know how easily turned on you are. I mean literally you can hardly last a week, I'm surprised you've lasted this long!”

His sigh was shaky as he laid his head on your chest defeatedly. You were right and he knew it, he couldn't last and he hated this challenge. But he also didn't want to lose....his competitiveness was starting to win in his mind,

But just then you lifted his head and pulled him into a gentle kiss.

It was sweet and lasting. He couldn't help but to get quite handsy..., he quickly started pawing at your breasts needing the flesh in his big hands.

He was quick to sit up straight and pull you into his lap without breaking the kiss. Hinata loved making a mess so it wasn't a surprise when the kiss you shared got rather desperate

Swapping saliva as his tongue fished inside of your mouth licking what it could, your teeth accidentally clashed against each other while he held your head still.

He let you go to grab ahold of your hips, grinding your body down into him as he slowly lifted his hips up into you following the motion he set.

“ fuck..”

Shoyou let out small grunts as he broke the kiss, your breath fanning his face while your bodies moved together slowly but with rough motions.

His brows furrowed as he let his head lean back onto the couch, small moans escaping his opened mouth.

You grip his shoulders and your movements become filled with need. You take control quickly as his hands slack and eventually fall off of your hips.

The pleasure from you roughly grinding onto his aching cock made him dizzy, it was mind numbing how good he felt right now.

“ ..ohhh fuck yeah, sh...shit baby don't.., don't stop..”

His eyes squeezed shut as you kept grinding down on him. His grunts soon then turned into moans and whines, he was moaning for you and begging for more.

His hips kept sucking up into your warmth, your clothed cunt ground down into him and he could feel your slick seeping through both of your clothes.

Your hands wrapped around his neck instinctively and his eyes crossed and fluttered. The whine that left him was nothing but pornographic one that you'd likely see in a porno, likely the girl moaning but we don't discriminate here.

“ y..yes-...fuck! don't stop, please don't stop,.... don't— shit! I'm cumming!~”

He blew his shorts in all of his milky cum, you kept grinding despite his warning. You hadn't noticed but it didn't matter he loved the overstimulation.

Your trip on his neck got tighter and his breath was slowly fading, his cheeks were red and tears were prickling at the corner of his eyes. His mouth hung open, his jaw slack and his lips dried.

He was in heaven right now.

Your movements slowed as you realized he'd already finished. You giggled and nuzzled your face into the crook of his slightly sweaty neck.

“ how you feelin’ babes?”

Shoyou let out a shaky mumble of mushed together words. His head was hazy and far too much for him to handle.

He held you close before he soon realized...

“ fuck....I have to take them to that fucking restaurant.....”

AN: got this out late but it doesn't matter it's here. It's been a while since I've written anything idk why I jumped straight into writing without like putting out some drafts n shit to ready myself for kinktober but. Enjoy this! This was great practice for the rest of the month!!!

[dumpywrites]

Test Drive - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: “How does one incite a first kiss?”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, friends with benefits? but they only kiss

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: The idea of friends figuring out their feelings for each other is always so cute to me idk why >_<

Yoongi and you used to date once… back in high school. That happened due to peer pressure and the fear of missing out from not getting a prom date like everyone else. In fact, neither one of you had ever said anything about your feelings to each other, just a mere “do you think it’d be cool if we just date?” uttered by your friend on a random Thursday after school. It didn’t last that long as you agreed that friendship just made a lot more sense than relationship to you both. 

Fast forward to just a few years later, you were now a fully functional adult, at least that was what you’d like to think. The high school quote on quote friendship gang that you used to have, was now slowly divided by work. All of you were occupied by your own schedules, projects, side jobs, or simply, just adulting stuff. You were just glad you had a friend like Jimin who would take his time to organize random hangouts now and then, just for the sake of it. 

And so after not meeting for around two full months, all of your schedules finally lined up. It also happened to be the first time in forever that Jin introduced someone new to your group, a girlfriend. 

“Honestly, I thought you’d die alone.” Taehyung said nonchalantly. 

“Just because you were voted most handsome student that one time in college, doesn’t mean you get to say shit like this…” Jin said, clearly annoyed, which only resulted in laughter from everyone. 

“You’re just butthurt you weren’t the one who won.” Taehyung smirked and took a sip of his cola. 

“Cut it off guys, you’re scaring poor Wendy here.” You said, smiling at the girl sitting next to Jin. “Don’t worry, we’re not always like this.”

“She has to get used to it one way or another, she’s dating the most annoying one in our group after all!” Jimin said while snickering. 

“I swear I’m going to murder you all…” Jin groaned. The girlfriend next to him only giggled. 

“Man, I wish I wasn’t so single.” Nayeon puffed her cheeks and sighed. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon too.”

You nodded. “Relatable.”

“Aren’t you and Yoongi used to date though?” Jimin suddenly said. 

The guy who was only quietly sipping his coffee, suddenly straightened his posture. “I heard my name mentioned.” Yoongi said. 

“Oh my god… it was just silly thing we did to have a prom date!” You whined. “Right, Yoongi?” You looked at the guy, searching for validation. You earned a shrug from him. 

“I wanna know the details!” Wendy suddenly said with excitement. 

“We were both dumb and had never dated anyone before. It was more of a play date kind of thing.” You replied, looking at Yoongi again in hope that he would back you up. 

“I was the one who suggested it, the fomo was getting to me seeing Taehyung date left and right. Look at how that turned out for him though…” Yoongi simply said. The mentioned guy could be heard protesting in the background.

“I always wonder,” Nayeon tapped her chin in a comical way. “Did y’all ever kiss or something?”

“Eww, never!!!” You cringed, while the others laughed. “We dated for two weeks in total because just holding hands made us gag.” 

“Not gonna lie, I could picture it. The two of you would look cute.” Wendy commented with a playful smile. 

“Lord… trust me, we don’t.” You shook your head at her. 

“Hey, Yoongs!” Jimin called. “When was even the last time you went on a date?!”

“Contrary to popular believe I actually go on dates, excuse you.” The guy rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee. 

“I hardly believe that. We don’t need to count Y/N here, okay???” Jimin chuckled. 

And that was how Yoongi became grumpy the entire ride back home. He gave you a ride because your house was in the same direction and you were just too lazy to deal with the busy street on a Saturday night. The moment you stepped inside the car, the guy was already complaining. With some time to kill, you decided to stop at a drive thru for some ice cream and chit-chats. 

“They really need to mind their own business.” Yoongi said, still vexed. 

“I’m sure they were just joking.”

“Do I really look like a loser?!” 

“You don’t.” You quickly replied. 

He sighed. “Sorry, it’s just that it’s been a while and I suddenly feel self conscious.”

“Aww, Yoongi…” You cooed. “Is there someone in mind though?” 

“Not really.” He said with a straight face. 

“What’s it like anyway? Your ideal type and all…” You turned your body to face his side, lifting your feet a little bit. 

“Uh… I guess I like someone who has no filter and just chill.”

“What about appearance?”

“You sound oddly excited.” He side eyed you. 

“I’m just curious! Plus you never really talked to me about this and we’ve been friends for years.” 

“Hmm… let me think.” He tapped his thigh, wondering. “Nah, I think I couldn’t care less.”

“I find it hard to believe that…” You squinted your eyes. “Men are visual beings.”

“Do not generalize!” He eyed you again. 

“Is it someone like Minjoo? Cause I remembered her being very pretty.” You didn’t know why you were whispering. 

“That was such a long time ago.” He shook his head. 

“Hey, I heard that apparently your first relationship supposedly shapes your ideal type.” You shrugged. 

“So it’s you then.” 

Your eyes widened. He really had to say it with the blankest looking expression. The honesty of this man really blew your mind sometimes.

“Oh, shut up! That doesn’t count!!!” You protested. 

He only chuckled, clearly finding your reaction amusing. 

“Is Minjoo your first kiss?” You whispered again, wiggling your eyebrows. 

“This topic has clearly shifted from wanting to help me out to full blown interrogation.” He folded his arms and closed his eyelids. “No, she was not.”

You dramatically gasped. “The drama!”

“I think my first kiss was in uni and neither of us were sober at that time so it doesn’t really matter.” He scoffed. 

“Damn, I was gonna ask how’s your first kiss like, only for you to say that. I’m sorry, I guess.” You sighed with a teasing smile on your face. 

“What’s yours like?” He asked. 

“It was sweet actually.” You smiled as you reminisced through the memory. “Both of us were really shy and I think we kissed under a tree. It was some real k-drama shit.” You laughed. “It’s kinda embarrassing now that I think of it…”

“Must be nice.” He nodded a few times. “To be quite honest with you, I don’t even know if I’m a good kisser.” 

You raised your hand and high-fived him. “Surely that’s not something we should be proud of.” You giggled. “Like, how does one incite a first kiss? Hell, how does one incite a kiss in general???” 

“I’m pretty sure you just go for it, don’t need to think much.” He laughed. “Worst case scenario you get rejected.”

“This conversation started with me wanting to help you with your insecurities to then giving me an insecurity! Now I’m worried about my kissing skill!!!” You whined. 

“You think you might be rusty? If you’re rusty, then what am I?!” He grinned.

“Should we just practice kissing?”

The car suddenly went silent. It was no help that the radio volume was playing at almost the lowest volume. The sentence just flashed through your mind and you let it out without thinking of it twice. In your head, it would be way weirder to ask someone random or even someone you romantically interested in to indulge in the idea. He was your friend, a very close one too. He was in fact, just Yoongi. It should not be weird, right?

Yoongi’s lips turned into a big O shape. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“I mean, in what other situation can you just ask a person to practice kiss with you. Any other situation would be too embarrassing. We’re just friends that want to test something out!” 

“You sure it wouldn’t be weird?” Yoongi raised one of his eyebrows. 

“I think so?” You looked at him skeptically.

“No take-backs.” He warned you.

“Roger that.” You nodded. “Do we just… uh, how do we???”

Instead of replying, he just softly brought you closer. The space in between the car seat was making it a bit tricky, but his hand smoothly pulled you by the back of your neck. And your lips met, just like that. Both of you let it linger for a few seconds, before you felt his lips moving, so automatically, your response was to mimic his movement. 

“Stick your tongue out for me.” He said between the kiss. 

“Oh, you’re giving directions now?” 

You pulled back, smirking at him before leaning back in. You did as told and soon found both of your tongue dancing, intertwining with each other. You couldn’t help but to giggle every now and then, breaking the kiss as you did, but each time Yoongi would reach for your lips back on his. You could feel him smiling through it, maybe he wanted to giggle along with you too. 

After what felt like forever, you both pulled away, mostly due to the awkward angle making your back ache a little bit. 

“That was… something.” You chuckled, fingertips holding your lips as you still couldn’t believe what happened. 

“That was not so bad…” He breathed out and grinned. 

“I think so too.” You giggled. “It’s just kinda funny though, I’m sorry I kept laughing.” 

“It’s okay, it’s kinda cute to be honest.” 

Sometimes you hated how frank your friend could be, because this was the kind of stuff he just blurted out without thinking, and it was messing with your head. 

“So… what do we do with this information?” You looked at him, feeling your face flushed. 

“Nothing, I suppose.”

**

It was just a week after when you receive a text from Yoongi, asking if by any chance you were free after work. You were not sure what he wanted to say that was so important to the point that he had to tell in person immediately. You soon found out why. 

“I have a date tonight.”

He said, standing right in front of your door that you just closed right after welcoming him in. It was raining and the black hoodie he was wearing was slightly damped after running from the parking lot, adding to the dramatic effect. It looked like he was shivering ever so slightly, you just had the tiniest urge to hug him to make sure he was warm.

“Huh?” You gaped. “With who??? I didn’t know you were close with someone?!“

“I downloaded bumble a few days ago. It was Taehyung’s idea.” He cut your question short. 

You folded your arms, wanting to tease him but no words came up. You couldn’t exactly pin point as to why you felt almost disappointed upon hearing the news. “Congrats? You could just call me or text me.”

“What if I kiss her at the end of the date?”

Your eyes widened as you started to get some ideas. Or you could just be one hell of a pervert if that was not the case. 

“I need your feedback… and consent.” For the first time in a while, you saw nervousness in Yoongi’s face. He kept fiddling with the ring he had in his middle finger. He cleared his throat before popping a question slash offer to you. 

“Can we practice again just for a bit?” 

In short, Yoongi ended up ditching the date and spent the whole night making out with you on the couch. He never asked or mentioned anything about the alleged date afterwards, just silently watched the tv you had on as you leaned on his shoulder.

The first time was odd, but it was odd in a cute and endearing way. But the second one was intense. If you were giggling mid kissing before, this time you were holding down your voice, trying to not make any weird noise. When he bit your lower lip, did he remember the fact that both of you were just friends?

**

At this point you were both experts in kissing. At least in your case that was what you would like to believe. It had been going on for weeks and it was turning into a habit that you found yourself guilty on too. It was just too easy to keep coming back to him, asking the silly question. It appeared to be the same for him as well. He never refused. Kept coming back to you as well. 

None of you ever addressed anything, not that you thought it would matter anyway. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t enjoy this, because clearly, you were addicted at this point. You just could not bring yourself to stop. Any chance you get to be alone with him, your lips would find each other almost as instantly. It would always just end like that though, a kiss, a make out sesh. Never more, never less. 

With Christmas just around the corner your friends were starting to plan getaways, dinners, parties, and other possible options. You? You were just thinking of how to sneak and shower Yoongi with smooches. It was getting unhealthy and you were completely aware, but oh well. 

Came twenty fourth of December. It was snowing and surroundings were looking festive. With everyone having days off from work, it was decided that renting a cabin and spending the night there sounded perfect to all of you. 

Wendy and you were in charge of the Christmas tree, while Jin and Taehyung being the taller ones in the group, were assigned for decorations that acquired more height. Yoongi could be seen trying to set up the fireplace, as Jimin and Nayeon set up the food and snacks. 

“Done!” Wendy clapped her hands happily as both of you finished the tree with a star on top. 

“We should take a picture together with the tree!” Nayeon exclaimed. 

All of you started to scoot, preparing your poses as Nayeon grabbed her phone and put it on a table after setting the camera timer. When she ran back to quickly join the rest of you, you suddenly felt Yoongi’s arm coming from your back, pulling you closer to him. A big grin was plastered on his face. Normally, you wouldn’t bat an eye to that, you had been friends for years and years. So you weren’t so sure why it made you malfunction for a second when you felt his fingertips brushing your shoulder. Thankfully, you had enough time to look up back at the camera to make an appropriate expression.

Two board games and one boring christmas movie later, most of you were sleepy, if not a little bit tipsy. Taehyung started taking sips of Jimin’s coffee he found in the fridge, that was when you knew that man was drunk. While Jin and Wendy had already head upstairs to their room, Nayeon and Jimin were sitting on the carpet while you and Yoongi on the couch, with this weird gap between the two of you. 

“I heard the bumble dates went well.” Taehyung said, as he occupied the empty space between you and Yoongi. 

Your head immediately jerked to your left side, looking at both Yoongi and Tae. Didn’t he ditch the date? “Oh, you actually went to the date?”

Yoongi looked at you, with yet again another unreadable expression. He was about to open his mouth but the other guy beat him to it. 

“Did he show you her photos? The girl looks hot!” Taehyung exclaimed eagerly. 

“Our Yoong-yoong finally went on a date?” Jimin looked up with a curious smile. 

“Oooh, spill the tea!” Nayeon joined. 

“It was only one date.” 

You froze. So he did go to the date and he never told you a single thing. You were not sure how to feel or how to react regarding the news, but you felt betrayed. 

“She’s not a catfish or anything, right?” Taehyung asked, scooting closer to Yoongi. 

“She’s not.”

“Nice.” Taehyung nudged the man. “Are y’all going on another date or something?”

“I don’t think—“

“You better be!” Tae cut the guy short again. “Come on, you need this. You need to at least get laid.” He laughed. 

“Hey, maybe let’s not pressure the guy like that…” Nayeon said to Taehyung.

“Let’s just celebrate the fact that Yoongi just went on a date.” Jimin chuckled. 

You tried your best to not look like the conversation bothered you in any way. “Told you, you have nothing to worry about.” You said to him with a smile. 

Yoongi was only silent and soon the topic changed. 

The next morning you woke up very early, but most likely due to the fact that you could barely catch any snooze. You decided to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the front porch, enjoying the cold morning air and the falling pieces of snow. 

You started getting teary. You could be still sleepy, maybe it could also be the hormones acting up. It’s about time of your PMS, judging by the date, but you were not certain. What made you so upset about? You should be thrilled that your friend who you wanted so badly to get his confidence back, finally went on an actual date.

Not even seconds later that your mind started to wander at a possibility of him kissing another person, then you started tearing up again. 

Sooner or later you needed to accept the cold hard truth. Jealousy was a knife.

“Isn’t it cold out there?”

You looked back, surprised to see Yoongi closing the front door behind. He took off his gloves and placed it on your lap. 

“It’s fine, the tea is warm.” You reasoned.

“I don’t feel that cold.” He said, taking the seat next to you. “Why are you up so early?”

“Could ask the same to you.” You said after putting on the gloves. It was slightly bigger and your heart raced at the thought. 

“Can’t sleep.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. “You?”

“Same.” You realized you hadn’t looked him in his direction the whole time. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

You were taken aback by the sentence, but still chose to look straight at the scenery in front of you. “About what?”

“The date.” He sighed. “Actually, I only went because I felt bad that we already agreed on a time and place but I cancelled on her in such short notice before. She actually turned out to be really nice and we hung out for a bit…”

You felt sick listening to it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, instead you just nodded along. 

“She asked me for a second date but I refused.” 

This time you looked at him. “Why? Didn’t you say that she turned out to be really nice?”

“That day after I took her home, we almost kissed… I backed away because out of nowhere I just saw your face.” He sighed, followed by a nervous chuckle. “She’s nice…” He looked away, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “But she isn’t you.”

What?

“Yoongi, I don’t understand…”

“I don’t either, but I can’t bring myself to kiss anyone else other than you.” He looked at you with a genuine expression. “Can’t imagine you kissing anyone else either, it kills me.”

It had been the same case for you too. 

“I actually feel the same way.” You let out a relieved chuckle, feeling a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. “What does this mean for us now?”

He smiled, so wide that your heart melted seeing the sight. He took your right hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. You felt your cheeks warmed up, and a giddy smile curved your lips. This definitely was different from how you felt back in the day.

“You good?” He asked with a big gummy grin.

“It doesn’t feel weird like how it was when we fake dated.” You giggled. 

He smiled and held your cheek with his hand, while the other still holding yours. Midway through leaning in, he stopped and straightened his gaze at you. 

“I like you, if that’s not clear by now.” 

“I know.” You giggled, blushing. 

He quirked his eyebrow. It seemed like he was not too pleased with you not saying the magic words back to him. He might need to kiss you first to earn it and that was the idea that Yoongi could definitely get behind. 

Oh you could already imagine the chaos when your friends finally found out about this whole rollercoaster of a story. 

Thank you for reading! 🖤

[k00sblogger]

Summary: When you score a job as a maid after being fired, you're surprised to find out exactly what your new job consists of.

Warning: Unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral sex, overstimulation, pwp.

Pairing: boss!jimin x fem!reader

A/n: no part 2, sorry pookies

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

"Y/n.." janae whispers, softly rubbing your back in an attempt to console you as you sob into your hands.

Today sucked, no better way to put it. You'd been working as a bartender for a long time now, the perfect job to make some cash while you complete culinary school.

Amongst the students in your class you were the only one not working as a server in some upscale restaurant, but you liked it despite what your peers said. The busy atmosphere, having to be quick with the drinks, it was all enjoyable to you.

All good things come to a end clearly. You'd never had the greatest relationship with your manager, but you wouldn't have expected him to fire you for showing up late once.

For fucks sake you were the perfect employee and the moment you slip up he fires you, it just didn't feel right. Nonetheless, you were too upset and wore down to look into deeper into it.

At least not tonight.

"Why don't you come work with me?" janae's soft voice rips you out of your troubled thoughts. The proposition can't help but make you laugh.

"As a maid? No thanks." you didn't mean to be rude, and in no way were you hating on what she did for work. You just didn't think the job was for you- you barely liked cleaning your own apartment so why the hell would you clean someone else's?

"Do you want a job or not?" she says, blunter than ever. The realization makes you groan and sit up in your bed. You didn't have forever to look for a job, so maybe her offer is what you need.

"Fine." you utter, making a mental note to go on a intense job hunt so you can quit this maid shit as soon as possible.

Janae smiles and begins grabbing her belongings, slipping her jacket over her arms and slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Well, i gotta get goin but i'll make a few calls and let you know about it."

You nod, giving her a soft smile to let her know your thankful that she's willing to go out of her way to do this for you.

She sees herself out after that- and you flop back down on your bed, getting comfortable under the satin sheets. You close your eyes feeling anxious, not really knowing what you've gotten yourself into.

You didn't have time to worry though, you needed a job and thankfully- you might just have one already.

______________________________________________________

THE NEXT DAY:

"So good news!" janae announces, swinging your door open and prancing in. You crawl out of bed with a scowl, rubbing at your tired eyes.

"Remind me why i gave you a house key again." you mutter, and she laughs at the comment as she flings some papers onto your nightstand. "So look, my boss referred me to a friend of his.." she says, getting straight to the point.

The announcement makes you raise your eyebrows, setting your hands on your hips as you listen to her. "They live near each other and he says the guys been looking for a maid."

You sigh, you weren't fond of the whole maid idea anyway but now the only option is working for a guy neither of you know?

"So now i'll be alone, perfect." you respond rather sarcastically.

Janae takes a seat on the bed, tapping the papers she threw down. "Look i know it's not what you wanted but why not give it a try? Taehyung wouldn't recommend one of my friends to just anybody."

She sounds so assuring you suppose that you might as well give it a shot. "What's that?" you ask, glancing at the papers under her hand.

"Oh! A copy of his contract." she says, eagerly handing it over to you. You take it from her hands, scanning over it without actually reading. "He wants an interview with you asap, he's looking to hire someone on the spot."

Holy shit, that was.. perfect.

"Don't forget it to read that beforehand- i gotta go!" she says, standing to her feet and rushing out of the house without another word.

You don't bat in eye at it, assuming she's running late for work as always. Punctuality was definitely not her strong point, but clearly it's not too big of a deal for her boss.

You set the papers down again, beginning to get ready with a huge smile on your face.

Maybe things weren't so bad.

....two days later

*knock knock knock* You stand at the tall door of the mystery man's mansion, hair combed to perfection and clothes ironed to perfection.

You had janae send you his contact and you'd messaged him about a interview time but that was about it- so you didn't really know who exactly you were meeting.

You look up with hopeful eyes as the door opens, and your shocked to see someone who looks to be.. your age? You weren't sure why you expected it to be some old prick.. guess you judged a bit too quick.

"Hi- I'm y/n." you say with confidence, extending your pretty hand for a handshake. He takes it with a smile, giving a firm shake before he steps to the side to allow you into his home.

"Names Mr. Park- but you could call me jimin." he says, and you nod- glad that you can finally see who you'll be working for.

"I perfer mr. park" you say with a smile, it just seems more professional. He nods and walks you over to his offices, pulling out your chair so you can take a seat.

"So, i heard you lost your job?" holy fuck, you were gonna kill janae. She didn't have to tell her boss the extent of everything.

"Yeah..uh- yeah.." your voice trails off and the silence is intense and awkward to say the least, terrible way for him to start the damn interview.

"No worries." he says, chuckling as he takes a seat in the chair across from mine. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want." his voice is soft and warm, easing the tension in an instant.

You thank him, and from then on the conversation just flows. He asks you about your interests, availability, your specialties, and after he's finished you feel that it went pretty well.

"So have you went over the contract?" ...of course you didn't. You were at fault for this, janae had given it to you two days ago and you suppose you just forgot about it.

Obviously, there's no way you were telling him that after the interview had gone perfectly fine. You were almost sure that you'd got the job.

"Of course- i just.. i left my copy at home." Lie. You hadn't read any bit of that contract, it was just so long- you didn't feel like it.

"It's all good, i have a copy you can sign." he digs through a drawer behind his desk, searching for a moment before placing the paper in front of you along with a pen.

"Thank you, sir." you mutter, signing the paper immediately. You still couldn't be bothered to look at it- especially not after you told him you read it all.

"Alright." he says, a smile on his face as he takes the paper from your hands and places it into a file folder. "The jobs all yours, glad to have you."

He extends his hand this time, and you shake it with pleasure. "Great, ehm- when's my first day?"

"Tomorrow, 8AM sharp." well you damn sure weren't expecting so soon, but you weren't doing much else so it was no problem.

"Perfect, see you then." he sees you out to your car, assuring you get into the car and drive off safe before he walks back into his house.

Nothing like your old boss you think, but you like it.

______________________________________________________

THE FOLLOWING DAY:

You groan as you finally lift from the floor, throwing the wet towel to the side as you take a short break. You'd arrived at eight am just as he asked, and it was 12 now.

You wondered how he expected you to clean this whole place on your own, after all it was no where near small. You'd been here for hours already and hadn't even finished the bottom floor.

If he wanted this done in a timely manner he definitely was gonna have to get some more help around here.

Luckily, he wouldn't be home today. You could clean on your first day in complete and utter silen-

The door creaks open before you can even finish your thought, and there he is in all his glory. You mean that literallt by the way, he's adorned in different types of jewelry and a nice suit that was probably from a luxury brand you'd never even heard of.

"Y/n." he says, greeting you quietly as he sets down the bag in his hand near the front door. So much for cleaning up the clutter there.

"Hi-" is all you say, giving him a soft smile as you continue wiping down the counters. You couldn't let his presence here distract you, this was already taking you a long time being alone.

"Everything going okay?" he asks, waltzing into the kitchen like he owns the place. (He does)

"Yeah, i haven't gotten to the upstairs yet but i will soon-" you say, biting the inside of you cheek anxiously. Hopefully he didn't think you were moving too slow, this was hard work for one person.

"It's all good." he mutters, grabbing a coffee cup out of the cupboard next to you. You divert your attention back to cleaning, this time focusing on the stove

The crumbs left in the little crevices make you roll your eyes. No wonder this guy needed a maid, he clearly couldn't clean to save his damn life.

You walk around him to open the cabinet under the sink, bending down carefully aware of the skirt you put on. It wasn't the best thing to wear to clean but you were in a rush this morning.

"You're not in dress code." you hear his deep voice behind you, and stand up to turn and face him. His eyebrows are raised and both of his hands are resting on the freshly cleaned countertop.

"Dress code?" you question with an awkward laugh, but your smile disappears when you see he's not finding anything funny. In fact, he's staring at you blankly, without a word.

"Um, we didn't speak about a dress code." you say, and you know you're right. You remember the conversation very well, and he never mentioned anything about what you should wear.

You just assumed you could wear what you pleased.

"It was on the contract." he says, crossing his arms as he stares at you. You curse yourself for lying, why didn't you just tell him you didn't read his contract??

Whatever whatever, this is your time to come clean.

"Oh yes- i..i just forgot!"

he doesn't reply.

"I'm sorry."

he still doesn't say anything.

"Do you want me to go?"

he's making you feel stupid.

"Mr.park?"

He finally lets out a sigh and moves closer to you, scanning over your outfit. "Bend over."

You weren't sure you heard him right. "What?" you say, not sure of what he's asking if you. And so he repeats himself- "Bend over, y/n."

You turn around and try to look over your shoulder, convinced there's something on your back maybe. "Is there something there?" you ask, innocent as ever.

"No, i wanna fuck you." he says it casually, as if he was asking you to get him a cup of coffe. Your eyes widen, practically buldging out of your head in shock. How fucking inappropriate could he be?

"Are you insane?" you rebuttal, looking at him as if he was crazy. Shit he was in your opinion, it's your first day and he's already coming onto you like some man whore.

He begins to laugh at you, making your face scrunch up into an annoyed glare. What the fuck was so funny? Who the hell laughs after being rejected?

"You didn't read my contract." he announces, and now you're confused. You didn't read it, obviously- but how would he know that?

"I did it just-" he raises his hand, cutting you off without having to speak. "You didn't, because if you did you wouldn't be so fucking shocked right now."

He walks away from you afterward, and you stand in the kitchen dumbfounded as you watch him go into his office and come back out in a matter of minutes.

He returns with a file folder in hand, the same folder he stuffed the contract you signed into. The same contract that you payed no attention to and sure as hell didn't read.

He flings it onto the counter, the same way you did when janae first handed it to you. You desperately wished you would've just read it as soon as she handed it to you.

"Read it." he demands, it wasn't a question. You oblige him, moving closer and beginning to read the very first page. It's not long before you come across the dress code.

•must wear the uniform provided

•must look presentable daily

"The uniform was left on the couch." he mentions, and you nod in embarrassment.

He gestures for you to continue reading, and you do so. Nothing seems to weird, that is until you reach the end of the rules and requirements portion.

•must be willing to engage in sexual activities with exmployer at any time they're on the clock.

"The fuck is this?" you say, immediately looking at him in concern. "This isn't what i signed up for." you protest.

"It is, though." he says, in a much calmer tone then yours. This was nothing to him, he's probably had loads of girls in the past do this for him. Whatever this even was.

"So you just wanna have sex with me." you say, throwing the papers back down to the counter as you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"No, you're still here to clean." he says, grabbing the papers and placing it back into the folder. "But- i want to have sex with you as well."

His straight forwardness makes you squirm, something about being so open about the matter was weird for you. "I can't do this." you mutter, this wasn't what you needed.

"You tricked me."

You wanted a real job, not this.

"Look, im not gonna force you to do this." he announces, picking the folder up and shaking it in front of your face. "If you want, i'll rip this contract up and you can leave now."

You stay silent, listening to him speak as you think about your options here.

"But, i also know you need the money. I won't make you stay here, but if you do it'll be by my rules." he's stern with his words, and you know he means it.

"There's no point of you being here if you don't meet my requirements, y/n."

You understand him very well, but you don't know what to do. You didn't know if you wanted to stay, or if you wanted to go home and continue looking for a job with no hope.

Which was right? You didn't know.

He grunts as he adjusts his suit, fixing the tie around his neck. "Do you want to be here, or not?"

You think for a while, not wanting to answer too quickly. You need to be sure about this, and you keep telling yourself if this isn't what you want, then you need to go home.

But somehow, you still find yourself muttering a quiet. "I want to be here."

"Are you sure?" he asks you, and this is your chance to say you're not- but you don't. "I'm sure."

You were sure.

He nods and licks his lips. "Keep cleaning."

You take a deep breath & do as your told, grabbing the windex and spraying the huge mirror. He's making you anxious with the way he's watching you, and you wished he'd leave again.

You're tearing off a paper towel when he moves closer behind you, now close enough that his back is touching yours.

"Sir-" he shushes you, rubbing up and down the part of your thighs that he can see. "You agreed didn't you? I wanna start right away." he mutters it into your ear, and it makes your heart pound.

This was a bit early wasn't it? Can't he just give it a couple days first? You're new here for fucks sake.

"While i'm cleaning?" you ask, and it almost comes out as a whimper. It was shameful how it only took him rubbing your leg to get you all squeamish around him.

"Just pretend i'm not here.." he whispers, slipping his fingers under the hem of your dress to pull it down. He lets them fall to your ankles, and you struggle to keep wiping the mirror as he takes in the sight of your underwear.

You chose a matching set today, not on purpose- you just wanted to feel nice. The choice payed off nevertheless.

"I can't.." you whimper out, titling your head down and away from the mirror. "You can" he contrasts, sticking his hand into the purple thong you were wearing.

"Tell me how your days been." he mumbles it ever so casually, acting as if your clit isn't at the mercy of his fingertips at this very moment.

He was toying with you, flicking the bundle of nerves ever so slightly and placing little kisses on your neck.

"I-It's been good." you force yourself to whimper out a response, your body liking this treatment though your mind is telling you that you should've already grabbed your belongings and left as soon as you found out what this job consisted of.

"More, what'd you do?" he asks, and you can hear the jingling of his belt as he fumbled to get it off.

He moves hastily, soon rubbing his bare cock against your folds. "I..I prepared your dinner, it's in the fridge." you respond, hand refusing to move to continue wiping the glass.

"That's good, what'd you make me?" a gasp falls from your lips as he forces his way into your tight hole. He takes a sharp inhale too, the feeling of you wrapped around him a bit more than he himself could handle.

"Please.." jesus you don't even know what your begging for, all you can think about right now is the way he feels inside of you.

"Please what?" he counters, gripping your shoulder as tight as he could to fuck you back onto his dick. "Got me so hard, knew exactly what i wanted to do to you when you showed up in my office."

Something about that made you smile. Talking during sex wasn't something you were particularly used to but you damn sure liked it.

His dick slides in and out of you with ease, slipping out every so often due to how wet he's got you. It's not long before he's fucking into you without much care in the world.

He knew you were enjoying it though, feeling how you clamped down on him even tighter the rougher he got with you.

His hand pulls at your hair, wrapping it around his hand and tugging it as if it was some leash. "Such a pretty pussy, all mine now-"

You try your best to hear him over your little whimpers and moans, only growing louder when he moves his hand under you to play with your clit again.

His fingers are wet, and your almost sure he spit on them before playing with you. "Sir-" you rasp out, growing warm with the way his chest was pressed to your back.

"Hm?" is he all he manages to get out, too concentrated on your lower half. His eyes never left your ass, obsessed with the way it jiggled each time he thrusted into you.

He slaps it once just for his own pleaure.

And then a few more times when he hears you moan at the first.

"G-Gonna cum!" you're sweating now, still trying your best to fuck yourself against him to finally get yourself to the orgasm you've been waiting for.

He lets you do the work for just a moment, watching your pretty body work itself on him. "Just like that- cum for me.." his voice trails off on its own, and he bites his lip hard in a attempt to not let out a groan.

When you feel his hand reach around to press down on your lower stomach, you explode. You're left squirming under him all over again, squeezing his cock tight enough to make him pull out before he can cum inside of you.

He gets himself off after that. Staring at your used cunt as he jerks himself off to release. The spurts of his cum land all over your lower back, and you don't stand up properly until he's all finished.

"Wait, shit- bend over again." he says, and you comply without question.

He onto his knees behind you, bringing his hands up to take a nice handful of your ass cheeks. He licks his lips before he licks off anything left behind.

Clean up what you mess up right?

He lets out a loud grunt, repeatedly licking over your clit even when there's nothing left.

"Stop- fuck! stop!" you cry out, not ready for him to give you another, at least not yet. You reach your hand behind you in a attempt to push him away but you fail miserably, getting nothing but a harsh smack to your ass.

He only stops when you begin to thrash, and pulls away before you get too overstimulated.

"Turn around." he mutters, pulling up his pants as you breathlessly turns to face him. As soon as you get the slightest glimpse of his face, he brings his lips straight to yours.

His lips are softer than you expected, and the way he kisses is much different than the way he fucks. You lick your lips when he pulls away, giving him a shy smile like he wasn't inside of you less than five minutes ago.

"Thanks?" you mutter, not sure what to say. What do you say after getting fucked by a guy you'd only just met? Its strictly business you suppose, but still.

"No need for thanks." he says, kissing your cheek like a boyfriend would his girlfriend.

"I'll have a check for you by tomorrow yeah? Finish up just the downstairs and you're good to go for today."

Was that it? He just fucks you and sees himself out just like that? You weren't sure what you expected, but it damn sure wasn't that.

...

That same night your on the phone with janae, twiddling your fingers as she rants about her day- but you're too busy thinking about your own.

Should you tell her?

"Ah fuck stop touching that!- sorry y'know how my nephew is." she laughs. "How was your first day at work by the way?"

Holy fuck, the long awaited question. "It was good.. really good." you say, deciding then and there you should probably keep the details to yourself.

"I figured so, i had a late shift and my boss told me mr.park seemed to be in a good mood today." you smile to yourself at the comment, and find yourself wondering if it was because of you.

"Oh really?" you ask, trying to make yourself sound surprised.

"Mhm- and speaking of that.. i have good news!" her voice suddenly amps up and you raise your eyebrows though she can't see you. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Well, y'know how i mentioned my boss was moving away?"

you nod.

"So, he did me a couple favors and he said mr. park would be happy to have me! We'd be doing the same job!"

your smile drops instantly, what the fuck.

"Twins!! Aren't you happy?" she asks you, excited as ever.

"I've gotta go janae."

(requested by @parkjiminspersonalhoe )

[t-lostinworlds]

Competitively Stupid | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: rivals-ish (since childhood) to lovers, some angst; fluff

》 SUMMARY: It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.

》 WARNINGS: canon divergent (everyone is alive & well & happy thanks), pet names (sweetheart, baby), shitty parents (on both sides), competitiveness on all accounts, r is basically a counterpart of steve during high school (cheerleading captain, queen of hawkins high, swim team captain, etc.), peer pressure-ish, some stupid decisions & stupider actions, very irresponsible cliff jumping (which doesn't end well), drowning, CPR, injuries, an emotional moment™, love confessions, and a happy, sappy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

A/N: hi! okay, well, it's been a while since i posted a steve fic so i'm kinda nervous ngl. also, not me making it a habit to include swimmer!steve in all my fics from here on out. this was meant to be short & sweet to dust off the cobwebs but lol. super random. i saw a video of someone cliff-jumping & boom, the idea was born. also, not me using the first aid training i learned in college.

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE H. MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

You genuinely have no idea why you were even doing this in the first place.

"There's no way you can do it."

Right.

That's why.

The taunting voice of Steve fucking Harrington was the reason why you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a thirty-foot drop into the dark ocean.

This was supposed to be a relaxing trip with your new found family.

"You know you don't have to listen to him, right?" Robin sighed, so completely over the fact that her two best friends who never got along no matter what she tried, somehow came to an agreement to not listen to her right now.

Not that you could blame her.

You and Steve had been rivals ever since you were kids.

It was what you had always known.

What with narcissistic parents who used their children as pawns to one up each other, you had been conditioned to see him as an enemy from the second you step foot into their home.

Your family was invited into the Harrington residence for dinner as a way of welcoming you to the neighborhood. You recently just moved in, so you didn't know anyone else yet. When you heard that the next-door neighbor had a son who was your age, you had been really excited to gain a new friend.

All that changed when your dad sat you down an hour before, prepping you about how the Harringtons were a respected family in the town, and that you needed to show them you weren't any less than them, if not show them you were better. He drilled it in your brain to be on your best behavior, to be the best and the perfect daughter.

It only got worse when you finally sat down at that dinner table.

The comparisons were endless.

"See, my daughter here is a wonderful gymnast, quite amazing for someone her age."

"How wonderful. Steven here has swimming lessons every weekend. His coach said he might end up in the Olympic team once he's of age."

"Splendid. How about his academics? I'm sure he can take inspiration from my daughter's exemplary grades."

"He's the top of his class. Maybe if they study together, your daughter would be able to catch up in time."

It was harsh, pitting two seven-year-olds against each other—impressionable kids who only wanted to make their mom and dad proud.

But neither your parents nor his truly gave a shit. All they cared about was becoming the best family in the street, if not the whole town.

The sad thing was, those dinners became a regular thing, held alternately between your house and his.

It always looked like a preparation for battle whenever your mom would pull out the finest china in her collection along with the cookbook she only ever used for special occasions.

It was in the guise of cordiality when it was, in fact, an excuse to show off, to make a competition out of everything, a moment to compare who did what best. Those dinners were like monthly scoreboards, tallying up the respective families' recent achievements—and that included yours and Steve's.

Nobody was surprised that the competitiveness stuck with you both.

And it only got worse during high school.

Whether that was something as mundane as winning the popularity contest when running different circles—even going as far as getting crowned the King and Queen of Hawkins High—down to academics and extracurriculars.

Captain of the basketball team. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Prom Queen. Prom King. MVP of the season. Brightest student of the year. Beer pong Queen. Kegstand King. Best summer camp counselor. Lifeguard of the month and it went on and on and on and on.

When he got co-captain for the men's swim team, you rubbed it in his face that you were the captain of the women's team. When you got second place at the science fair, he made sure to rub his first place medal right in your face. When you became president of the student council, you ordered him around to do extra work whenever the basketball team was required to help with community service.

It was a constant back and forth.

There was always a competition between you and Steve Harrington.

And sure, since you graduated, it became subdued. But it was still very much there. Vying on who was the coolest babysitter in your band of ragtags, even fighting to have the title of Robin Buckley's ultimate best friend.

This thing between you and Steve was deeply rooted. So there really wasn't much Robin could do apart from getting in between your frequent squabbles before you started actually killing each other.

In Robin's words, something drastic had to happen for you both to finally wake up and see that this rivalry between you both wasn't what it seemed to be on the surface.

You had no idea what she was even implying.

Now, on a little getaway on the nearest beach you could drive to, the competition started with a race on who could get there first. It wasn't even fair seeing that you weren't the one driving.

The group had split into two, some were in Eddie's van—along with everyone's belongings since he had ample space in the back—while the others were in Steve's Beemer. Since you and Steve couldn't be in the same room together without an argument ensuing, it was a unanimous decision to have you two separated. Nobody wanted to deal with that for hours on the road.

Not that you could blame them, either.

And sure, it was the kids who suggested the race, but with Steve's smug smirk and that arrogant wink he threw once you got into Eddie's passenger seat, you knew it was game on between you too.

Yet despite the metal head being a fast—albeit slightly reckless—driver, he somehow took his sweet goddamn time getting to your destination.

Only when your group arrived at the beach last, did he say something about Steve threatening him to be extra careful with driving because there's important cargo in his van—whatever the hell that meant.

You lost to Steve on that one, but you would argue it was rigged from the start.

The next was a supposed friendly bout on who could build the biggest sandcastle that didn't topple over after a few minutes.

It was boys versus girls with you and him being team leaders. The girls won, obviously and El never used her powers. It was fair and square since the other team mostly argued over everything they could think of and had no teamwork at all. You made sure to point that out to Steve as you watched their sandcastle crumble into ruins.

Another one was beach volleyball. Same leaders as before, but you get to pick the members of your teams this time. Steve made it his mission to pick the tallest of the bunch. Still, it wasn't the advantage he thought it was because it ended up being one point too close.

Your team would've won if Steve wasn't such a dramatic asshole.

It was truly an accident. When you spiked that ball, you were not aiming for his face. He simply thought it was a good idea to catch the ball with it. Besides, he was distracted, flirting with some random girl in a bikini who was passing by, right in the middle of the game.

How was it your fault that he wasn't paying attention?

He made sure to oversell his injury after that, curled up on the sand as the girl fussed over him. But you saw that smirk on his face. You would've hit him again—definitely not by accident this time—if you weren't busy arguing with Robin about the point deduction. She said it was only fair since you hit the ball when she hadn't blown her imaginary whistle yet.

You decided to let it go when Steve commented on you being a whiny sore loser.

Unfortunately, the competition was ending with who could make jumping off a cliff and into the ocean look the coolest—adults only, despite the groans of protest from the mischievous bunch.

Eddie offered to stay behind and watch the rascals. When teased, he simply said he didn't want to test Death today.

His comment didn't help your nerves.

Robin said she was only coming purely as a voice of reason. She'd been saying nonstop how it was a horribly stupid idea, that there really was no need to be doing this in the first place.

But Steve wasn't backing down, so you weren't going to either.

So once again, it was only you and him.

As it always had been.

He volunteered to go first, throwing in a comment about rushing back up the cliff's edge before you could take your turn because he wanted a front-row seat for when you'd chicken out.

It only made you want to do it more.

His dive was smooth, almost flawless, you admit. He even showed off with a little flip near the end. It didn't take long for him to swim back to the shore, either. His years of training as a swimmer were obviously paying off.

But you trained just as much if not more than he had.

The only difference was, adrenaline didn't fuel you as much as it did Steve. So instead of getting all powered up looking down at a cliff's edge like he was, you were terrified.

But who wouldn’t get scared looking down at harsh waves crashing against sharp and jagged rocks? There was no margin for error here because one wrong slip and you'd be dead.

Still, if Steve could do it, you could do it better.

You weren't about to lose to his stupid ass.

"I'm not listening to him," you argued back, taking in a shaky breath as you took a step.

"He's doing reverse psychology!" she squeaked. "So you doing it is still listening to him!"

"I'm fine, Robs, I can do it," you mumbled, a slight questioning lilt at the end of your sentence.

"Look, sweetheart, it's okay to admit defeat," Steve said, cocky voice with an even cockier smile as he crossed his toned arms against his bare chest. His hair was still damp, quick to climb back up so he could get his front-row seat as he promised.

But you weren't chickening out.

Never.

"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you lost to me so, it shouldn't sting as much."

You ignored him.

Instead, you took another step, the tips of your toes now hanging over the edge.

You can do this. Wipe that smug smirk off his face. You got this.

"Listen, you don't have to do—"

"Shut it, Harrington," you growled.

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, counting from three, two, one…

You jumped.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

He shouldn't have pressured you like that.

The jump wasn't deadly, per se, but it also wasn't exactly deemed the safest, especially if you weren't an expert in any sort of way.

And he didn't want to say it out loud because if he did, he knew it would only push you to do it more just to prove him wrong.

But Steve could see how scared you were.

He was already dropping the act, voice laced with concern as he started telling you that he wasn't worth all of this, that he was stupid and that you were always going to be better than him.

But, obviously, you didn't listen.

You simply jumped.

You and your stupidly competitive ass.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, rushing to the edge of the cliff, tensely watching your falling figure disappear into the water with a splash.

"You two are complete idiots."

"Shut up," Steve gritted, never looking away from the water. Yet any annoyance was quickly overpowered by sheer worry as he scanned the deep blue for anything.

There was no sign of you.

"Like seriously! It's like I'm the only one with a brain cell here!"

"Come on, come on, come on," Steve mumbled, completely ignoring Robin when you still hadn't emerged to the surface. "Come on, Y/N, don't scare me like this."

"Uh, Steve?" Robin asked after a moment, carefully looking over the cliff before shooting him a worried glance. "You look anxious and you being anxious is making me nervous."

"She hasn't come up," he grumbled, glancing at his watch.

It was nearing a minute.

"Maybe you didn't see her?"

"I haven't taken my eyes off the water, Buckley," he gritted, too harsh and uncalled for since Robin didn't do anything wrong.

But he was panicking.

A minute and thirty seconds.

"Come on, sweetheart, you can do it. You're an amazing swimmer," he whispered encouragingly, hoping some sort of magic would let you hear him underwater all while saying it aloud for his own sanity.

Two minutes.

You could never hold your breath any longer than that.

Steve knew because he always won that competition.

And that was in a calm pool.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, gearing up to dive after you. "I don't think she's coming up!"

"Okay! Okay," Robin rushed, panicking. "Maybe she's already on the shore. We should go down now and see—"

Steve didn't listen.

He jumped right after you.

The biting cold was awakening.

Still, it was the absolute fear of losing you that was keeping him alert.

He ignored the sting of the salty ocean water in his eyes as he frantically searched for you, his heart beating hard and fast, struggling for oxygen all while fearing for your safety.

Steve didn't know which came first, relief or dread when finally found you, aimlessly floating and unconscious under the deep blue.

He swam to you as fast he could, securely hooking his arm under your shoulder and dragging you up to the surface.

Steve always knew that adrenaline can give you a random boost of strength when needed. He simply didn't expect that to be proven true when he was carrying your unresponsive body in his arms as he brought you to the shore.

He gently placed you on your back on the sand, cupping your face as he checked for any injuries.

You were so cold.

"Hey, hey, wake up," he begged, grabbing your shoulders to try and shake you awake.

Nothing.

"You didn't have to make the jump, you idiot. Why do you always want to prove me wrong," he scolded with no ounce of anger, only worry. He started tapping your cheek frantically. "Come on, wake up!"

Still no response.

"Dammit, Y/N, why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn," he scolded, his voice shaking in fear, his chest tightening as he pressed two fingers against your pulse point.

His own heart stopped when he couldn't feel yours.

And you weren't breathing.

Steve tried to keep himself calm. If he panicked now, he wouldn't be able to give you the aid that you direly need.

"Come on, Harrington. You know what to do. You trained for this," he mumbled to himself, getting into the proper position to give you CPR.

He gently cupped your forehead with his left hand, his other two fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up.

"You're going to be okay," he whispered, pinching your nose before slotting his lips against yours.

Breathing into your mouth, one, two, he watched your chest rise as it filled up with air, only for it to settle back down without coming back up again. He quickly kneeled straighter, locking his fingers together and placing the heel of his left hand in the middle of your chest, pushing down with enough pressure to try and get your heart to start again.

"One, two, three, four, come on, sweetheart, breathe for me," he mumbled, easily finding the right rhythm, his first aid training as a lifeguard coming back to him like it was second nature.

Still, he never wanted to use this skill in a real-life situation, much less use it on you.

It was the longest thirty counts in his life.

Check for a pulse. Check for breathing.

Still nothing.

"Goddammit, Y/N, come on!" he growled, blinking back the tears as he pressed his mouth against yours again.

Two rescue breaths.

Thirty chest compressions.

Steve repeated the cycle over and over. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears, his knees were burning as the rough sand dug deeper into his skin, and his arms were starting to get sore, tiredness slowly covering his aching muscles.

But he'd rather die first than give up on you now.

"Steve—"

"Call for help, Robin!" he ordered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. When he didn't hear any movement, he yelled, "Don't just stand there! Go!"

He was going to apologize for being an asshole later. For now, he needed you to fucking breathe.

"Come on, come on, please," he begged, leaning back down to give you two more rescue breaths. "Breathe for me, baby, please."

Thirty chest compressions.

"Trying to prove me wrong when I've always been wrong, you idiot."

Five, six, seven—

"Sweetheart, come on," he choked back a sob. "Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid, huh? You know Robin can't do it alone."

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen—

"And you're really going to leave me alone to watch our kids?"

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—

"Y/N, baby, please, I can't live without you," he whimpered.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—

Steve felt his breath leave his lungs when you finally gasped for air.

He quickly turned you to your side, rubbing your back as you choked out all the ocean water that got into your system.

"There you go, you're okay," he whispered, whether to reassure you or himself, he didn't even know anymore. All he was focused on was making sure you were going to be okay.

"S-Stevie?" you coughed out the nickname that was only ever used by you.

It was the equivalent to his nickname for you—sweetheart.

Names that started out to annoy each other but the more often it was used as time passed, it only managed to grow into an endearment that held something warm underneath it. You both were quick to realize that the nicknames you had for each other weren't out of spite anymore.

Neither of you simply addressed it.

"Steady, sweetheart, I'm right here," he reassured, hurriedly getting into your line of sight to stop you from trying to turn around to face him. He gently cupped your cheek, offering you a soft smile when your gaze found him. "I'm not going anywhere."

You nodded as best as you could, your eyes clinging onto his brown ones only for them to screw shut when a shiver ran through your whole body.

"C-Cold," you stammered.

"I know, I know, come here," he said softly, guiding you to sit up before quickly settling behind you. He gently pulled you closer between his legs, his chest pressed against your back as he blanketed his body over yours, rubbing your arms to keep you as warm as possible.

You turned to face him slightly, burying your face into his neck only for you to wince at the slight movement. He quickly tried to steady you again, checking over you twice to look for any visible injury. But he couldn't find any.

"Tell me what hurts," he asked, pressing his lips against your cold forehead as he fully wrapped his arms around you.

"A-Ankle," you whimpered in pain, your grip on his waist tightening and God he hated that sound so much.

You must've rolled it when you jumped, and having landed on it when you reached the water, it definitely made it worse.

"It's okay, you're okay," he murmured, littering kisses against the side of your head to try and keep your mind off it. "Robin already called for help, they should be on their way, alright?"

You gave him a small nod, inching even closer to him, seeking as much warmth from him as possible. Your cold breath was tickling his skin but he didn’t care. Hell, you could be breathing fucking ice and he still wouldn’t give a shit.

As long as you were breathing.

"I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"

"I-I'll try," you whispered.

"First to fall asleep is the biggest loser," he mumbled, squeezing you slightly when he felt your eyes flutter close. "And you wouldn't want me to win this, babe, because I'll be a little shit about it."

"Not f-fair," you choked out a laugh.

"It's plenty fair," Steve chuckled tearfully, ignoring the sudden wetness on his cheeks. He hugged you tighter instead. "So stay awake or you'll lose to me. Again."

"Right there! They're right over there!"

Steve had never been so grateful to hear Robin's voice.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"So are you finally going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Steve questioned back, unable to take his eyes off of you, soundly sleeping in a hospital bed with your foot now wrapped in a cast.

The doctor had already checked everything and thankfully, there weren't any further injuries apart from your twisted ankle.

Now, all you needed was to rest and recover.

"That you've been in love with her this whole time."

Steve sighed, squeezing your hand before turning to look at his best friend.

"I'm not in love with her, Robs."

"Right," she scoffed, raising a knowing brow. "Because jumping off a cliff with zero hesitation so you could save her is totally normal behavior for someone you claim you hate."

"I never said I hated her," he argued, and it was true. He couldn't think of a single moment where he hated you.

"Yeah, well, you two definitely don't act like you like each other."

"Does she annoy and frustrate the shit out of me? Yes. But I never hated her," he admitted.

Steve didn't know what it was exactly, maybe it was his tiredness muddling his brain, maybe it was from everything that happened in the last couple of hours finally catching up to him, or maybe it was the overwhelming need to confess everything into the open before it was too late—and it almost had been. Either way, he found himself suddenly spewing out all the things that he always just kept to himself.

"She's also been the most constant person in my life, you know? Hell, we basically grew up together. I can't just not care about her," he continued, memories flooding his system before he could even stop it. "She's been so ingrained in my life, her and the cute dresses she wore at those stupid dinners our parents always dragged us to. Her and her stupid competitions whenever our babysitters would bring us to the park together. Her and that stupid dance she always did whenever she won at anything even if it was my expense—she always does this cute little wiggle whenever she won, and that never left her even as we got older," Steve chuckled at the thought.

"And fuck, don't even get me started with how similar our parents are. She's the only one who will always get me when it comes to that," he continued. "And yeah, we compete a lot, but there was no hatred between us. Maybe at the start but all that went away when we learned that whatever our parents were feeding us was bullshit—that they were bullshit.

"And fine, did I sometimes get so annoyed whenever she got a new boyfriend? Yeah. But only because she always had this bad habit of dating fucking assholes. I don't know where she got those dickheads from but every time I see a glimpse of her crying by her window at night I swear to fucking God I would've killed every single one of those assholes if she asked," he gritted, slumping down in his seat with a sigh.

"She deserves to be treated right, you know? She's already experiencing so much shit at home, she doesn't need any more of that anywhere else. Sure, she irritates me to no end but that doesn't mean she's not a sweet girl who always cried whenever some random pet commercial came on the TV during the holidays. Does her competitiveness drive me up the wall? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean I don't feel so fucking proud of her whenever she wins another medal or achieves another milestone. And yeah, I wonder about how she's doing, if she's taking care of herself, if she's getting enough sleep between her work and classes. But that's only because I worry, you know?

"And maybe I do think about her a lot but that doesn't mean I'm in love with…"

Steve blinked.

Well fuck.

"Wow," Robin marveled. "You're stupider than I thought."

"He hit his head as a kid, cut him some slack."

Steve paled at the sound of your voice, swiftly turning red at the thought that you probably heard all the things he said.

He turned to face you, groaning in annoyance when he saw the smug smile on your lips. "You've been awake this whole time?"

"I'll leave you two love birds alone," Robin sang, quickly slipping out of the hospital room and closing the door behind her.

"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Enough to say you're stupid," you hummed.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms. "I'm not the one who jumped off the cliff and almost died just to prove a fucking point."

"Yeah, well, I guess we're both stupid then," you snorted.

He shrugged. "I guess we are."

"Jesus, you don't have to act so tense. I mean, you've already given me a mouth-to-mouth, we've practically made out already," you scoffed playfully. "I honestly thought I'd die first before swapping spit with you yet here we are."

It was your attempt at alleviating the tension, to throw in a funny quip. But with everything still so fresh in his mind, Steve simply couldn't take it well.

"Don't fucking joke about that will you?" he snapped, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

The silence that followed only made the tension worse.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Steve immediately felt bad.

"No, no, no. You didn't do anything wrong, don't apologize," he sighed, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just—"

He stopped himself, chewing on his bottom as he looked everywhere but at you when he felt the tears well up again.

"Will you come here?"

Steve took a calming breath and did as you asked, moving his chair closer but didn't attempt anything else than that.

"Stevie," you called when he still wouldn't look at you.

Harshly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he lifted his head. You smiled at him sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to come even closer.

"You scared me back there," he croaked, taking your hand with a squeeze.

"I didn't mean to," you softly said, remorseful and apologetic even though you didn't have to be.

"I know," he murmured, pressing your warm palm against his cheek as he shot you a glare. "Just don't do that again."

"Promise," you giggled, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Steve leaned closer into your touch. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to you," you hummed, brows furrowing in thought. "When Marcus got that black eye, you said it was because he was playing dirty on one of your games." You tilted your head knowingly. "That wasn't true, wasn't it?"

Steve shrugged. "He hurt you."

"It was a small bruise on the arm, Steve," you reasoned.

"He shouldn't be giving you a fucking bruise in the first place," he growled, the memory bringing back the same anger he felt when he first saw that bruise. The soft tapping of your finger against his cheek calmed him down. "Sorry."

"Did you lose on purpose to get him expelled?"

"What? No!" he scoffed, offended, rolling his eyes when you giggled. "I tried so fucking hard to win that fight, you know, for you."

"You've always been protective of me," you hummed, taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together.

"Don't think I didn't know it was you who dyed that poor girl's hair green that one year in middle school summer camp," he retaliated.

It was a sharp and piercing scream that woke up the whole camp that morning. Everyone rushed out of bed to see what was going on only to find a girl who once was blonde was now sporting bright green hair in the middle of the crowd, crying her eyes out.

Steve would've thought it was only some silly prank if he didn't know who the girl was. But he did. Because the day before he tried to ask her to be his girlfriend, only for her to turn him down in the most embarrassing and humiliating way possible.

It wasn't difficult for him to find out who the culprit was since he immediately noticed how you kept hiding your hands in your pockets for the next few days after the incident.

The counselors quickly found out that the little menace—whoever she was—decided to use permanent dye on the poor girl's hair instead of something washable.

Your green palms colored you oh so guilty.

"She called you pathetic and gross in front of everyone!" you argued, pouting. "You looked like you were about to cry and I hated it."

Steve's heart warmed at that, a smile on his face despite rolling his eyes. "I wasn't about to cry."

"Yeah well," you shrugged, eyes trained on your intertwined fingers, your thumb playing with his. "I'm the only one who's supposed to be mean to you."

"Hmm," he agreed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. "I guess we've always been there for each other, huh?"

"I guess so," you giggled, cupping his cheek and tugging him closer.

He stood up from his seat, following your lead until he was pressing his forehead against yours.

"Thank you for saving my life, Steve," you whispered, eyes turning glossy as so many emotions covered your irises, the weight of what almost happened catching up with you.

"You don't have to thank me for that," he said sincerely, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "I'd do it over and over again in a heartbeat."

You nodded, sniffling, "Still, thank you."

Steve wasn't able to argue some more when you all but kissed him.

The first time Steve felt your mouth on his was a horrible experience considering he was trying to keep you alive.

Now, everything was the complete opposite.

A kiss that was careful but sweet, a hint of nervousness and excitement all the same, completely unhurried yet burning with passion as his lips molded against yours.

But still, it felt like that first gasp of air—a finally.

"I'm in love with you, too, by the way," you murmured as you pulled away, your warm breath tickling his lips.

"Thanks for clarifying," he chuckled, eyes laced with adoration, unable to stop his smile from growing wider, warmer. "I couldn't figure that out from the kiss."

"I mean, you are kinda stupid," you teased.

"We're on that same boat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I'm sure Robin would remind us about that every single day now."

"Unfortunately," you groaned playfully. "God, she gets annoying when she's right."

"Tell me about it," he hummed, brushing his lips against yours, moving away when you chased it.

You whined.

Steve didn't hesitate to dive back in.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 17

Part 1 Part 16

Let it be known that Eddie Munson is not a morning person, presuming it’s morning at all. And with the bags under Will and Steve’s eyes, Eddie’s doubtful. He doesn’t look in the mirror to check his own. If King Steve Harrington looks this ragged even with his genetic lottery, Eddie doesn’t want to know what he looks like.

He wants to brush his teeth, but when he opened the toothpaste, it was a rusty-looking brown color. He wants a shower, but none of the pipes work, and their quarry water is a precious commodity. Hell, he wants a hot cup of coffee, and he doesn’t even like coffee.

It'd probably turn to acid once it hit his gut, though. Hunger’s gnawing at him in a way it hasn’t for years. When the fridge would be empty for days. When he wished for school days, so he could take his little blue slip up to the lunch line and get a meal for free, never mind that all the other kids gave him a wide berth for it.

It's messing with his head to have that same, gnawing feeling in this place where Wayne makes breakfast in the mornings after he gets off a shift. Where there’s always food in the fridge, no matter how lean money is. Where someone cares enough to stock it.

So, no. Eddie Munson is not a morning person, and he’s going to strangle Steve Harrington if he keeps corralling Eddie like a wayward child as they pack up their supplies for the trek to Mama Byers’s house.

“Just help me sort the first aid supplies, and then we’ll be done,” Steve says, riffling through their stolen loot where he’s strewn it out across the kitchen counter.

Eddie groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, letting the weight of his elbow settle into Steve’s shoulder. Regrettably, it’s the bad one.

“Ow, fuck,” he groans, shrugging out from beneath Eddie’s arm.

“Shit, sorry big boy,” Eddie says, fluttering his fingers toward Steve’s injured shoulder like he can magic it all better.

“Are you hurt?” Will asks quietly from where he’s once again hovering at the threshold.

They both jump, trading guilty looks at the omission caught so quickly. “Just a scratch on my shoulder,” Steve replies, like a liar.

Will nods but doesn’t seem to believe them. The kid’s clearly too smart for his own good.

“Should we go?” Eddie asks brightly, clapping his hands like he’s a camp counselor leading a nature expedition and not corralling a middle schooler and a peer he still totally hates, he swears, out into a hellscape.

Steve rolls his eyes, but dutifully swipes it all back into his pack after a cursory look.

Steve and Will follow him out of the trailer like ducklings, Eddie in the lead, and Steve maintaining the rear, keeping Will sandwiched in the middle in silent agreement.

They keep quiet. Eddie’s eyes skitter wildly about, and when he glances back, Steve is clutching the shotgun tightly. Clearly, he’s not the only one more on edge with a kid to keep alive now. In contrast, Will looks excited.

Eddie doesn’t know which is worse, that the kid trusts them that much to keep him safe, or that he’s so excited to talk to Mama Byers that he’s not fussed about the rest of it.

Eddie remembers the general direction of the Byers’ house. It’s a small town – there’s only so many places for people to live, but he still has to ask Will for directions a few times. Will tells him where to turn, both speaking quietly enough that Harrington only twitches a little in alarm from behind them.

Only once does Steve stop, the sound of him raising the shotgun the only indication Eddie receives that he’s stopped at all. His heart kicks up as he whirls around to see Steve standing, gun trained into the woods, like fucking always. It takes endless moments before Steve lowers his gun again, waving them along.

No one talks after that. Eddie looks at Will, and Will points. It works well enough.

The Byers house is a single level, short and small, but it’s got a front porch with chairs on it, and laundry on a clothesline. It would look homey without vines. And the sky. And the ash. And the everything about this place.

Still, they file through the unlocked front door. Eddie can almost feel the smack Uncle Wayne would land on his head for going into someone else’s house first, uninvited, but there’s no way he’s letting Will go first into a place the Demogorgon had been less than twenty-four hours before.

It's silent inside. Will pushes past him, rushing into the house and taking a left. Eddie and Steve follow, Steve still clutching the gun. They find him in a small, outdated kitchen. He’s picked up the phone.

“Mom?” he says. His voice breaks, and Eddie wants to grab him and hide him in Steve’s closet for the rest of the day. “Mom?”

They stand in silence for a minute, ears straining for the smallest sound. “Anything?” Steve asks, brow furrowed.

Will doesn’t answer, just presses the phone to his ear harder. “Mom?” His voice sounds wet. Eddie’s going to fucking murder Joyce Byers. “Mom, please.”

“Maybe we can try in a few minutes?” Eddie asks, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

Will puts the phone back into the receiver like it weighs a thousand pounds. “What if the Demogorgon got her?”

Scratch the murder threats, Munson. “She’s probably just out,” he says.

Will finally turns around, slowly. Reluctantly. His face is streaked with tears already. Eddie doesn’t fight the urge to wipe them off. His hands leave grimy streaks though, so he switches to the sleeve of his shirt.

Behind him, Steve is pacing down the hall, muttering quietly under his breath. He’s not concerned until the movement abruptly stops.

“Steve?” Eddie calls, still cradling Will’s face.

His steps start again, slow, and purposeful. “Come see this,” he says. He doesn’t sound scared. Shocked, maybe even awed, but not scared.

Eddie pats Will’s cheek before turning and making his way out of the kitchen. Steve Harrington is haloed in light. It’s white, and fluttering, and following every step he takes. He looks like a fallen angel – bloody and grimy, but heavenly still.

Eddie almost asks, “are you an angel?” because if there are monsters, then why not something good? But he doesn’t. Because as soon as he steps past the threshold, there’s a light above him. Holy. Beautiful.

“What is this?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t know,” Steve says, smiling up at the light hanging over him. Steve Harrington is entranced by the lights and Eddie Munson can’t take his eyes off him.

Will steps beside him, and lets out a little, “oh.” When Eddie glances his way, he’s not looking at the lights either. Eddie can’t blame him.

“Do you think it’s dangerous?” Steve asks, still too focused on the beauty of it to sound worried.

“It’s just—” Will starts. But he’s interrupted.

The voice sounds distorted, but not like the Demogorgon’s. It’s more like the sound is coming from far away. Like Nancy Wheeler’s voice. Like her friend’s.

“Will?” it calls. “Will, are you here?”

Well, looks like it’s time to meet Mama Byers. Eddie can’t wait.

Part 18

[bluecollarmcandtf]

I Don't Believe in Hypnosis

When I was a boy, my father taught me how to work hard and provide for my family. Farming ain't for weaklings. It takes a man to do what I do, and this work has given me a hard head and thick skin. That's why I sure as hell wasn't scared of no Hypnotist last Friday night!

As I linger in the cornfield, finishing up a hard day's work, I recall what happened that night...

My wife, Annie, finally got me to take her to the Fair. She'd begged and begged until I'd agreed. My girl dolled herself up and put on her favorite dress. I knew I'd made the right choice when I saw her, looking like the thin, bubbly girl I'd courted back in high school.

Together, we climbed in my truck and drove towards the sparkling fairground. The place was alive with music and attractions. We rode every ride, and I'll admit I enjoyed getting out of the house with my girl.

Then Annie saw a sign for some weird hypnosis show. I had no idea what my wife was talking about, but she said she'd seen it in movies: the ability to control someone's mind with a swinging watch or some crap!

I told her it was dumb, but she flashed me her big baby blues and sidled up real close. I could never say no to her like that. With a tired groan, I followed her into the tent and sat down to watch the stupid show. The rest was a blur.

...that was a week ago, and I shouldn't dwell on it now that I'm done workin' for the day. Hopefully, Annie has supper is ready!

Entering the house, I don't see her in the kitchen. I'm a bit bothered because she's usually got it prepared by the time I come in, but then it strikes me! I remember why she's held up! How could I have forgotten our guest? I'll bet she's too busy handling him at the moment to cook my dinner. They're probably both still in the bedroom, if I had to guess.

I chuckle at my mistake and march to the back of the house, peering past the door into my bedroom. I was right! My wife's still under the covers with the Hypnotist. They're both too occupied to notice that I've come in, but I know how to wait.

Quietly as I can, I step over to the bedside and lower myself to my knees. There's not much else to do, so I just kneel on the hardwood and watch them go at it until they see me waiting.

It takes a few minutes but the Hypnotist eventually notices and gives me a roll of his eyes. "The hick is back," he groans while sliding off my wife's back, "Don't you have something else you could busy yourself with?"

"I just got done fertilizing the field," I answer back, trying not to be disgusted by all his sweat that's soaking into my bedsheets.

"Fertilizing?" he asks with a toothy grin, "No wonder you smell like shit."

I'm not too sure what to say back, so I just keep my mouth shut. He turns his attention back to my wife, leaving me with nothing to do but wait some more. I know he's a fraud, but I respect the Hypnotist greatly. Let me explain how I came to invite him over. Honestly, that memory's a bit hazy, but I'll try...

It happened after the show. In fact, the show must've been over awhile since all the chairs were empty aside from the one that held my beautiful wife. Next to her sat the Hypnotist, looking just as oily, pale, and chubby as he'd looked at the beginning of the show.

That was when I realized I was standing on the stage.

I didn't even remember standing up, let alone leaving my wife and going up to the front! Brushing off my worries, I approached the man leaning on Annie's shoulders. He stopped whispering in her ear and gave me a sly grin.

"Enjoying my wife?" I asked.

"Certainly, I can't believe a fine creature like this could end up with such a pig," the Hypnotist licked his lips as he stared at her dress, "Invite me to stay with you."

"Stay with us," I instinctively answered, extending a welcoming hand. The Hypnotist didn't shake it, but he did escort my wife out of the tent with fingers creeping down her back. After that, I drove them home. He's been holed up in my bedroom with Annie ever since!

"Go grab me a beer," he says, jerking me from my thoughts, "Hurry up!"

"Yup," I stumble to my feet and hustle to the kitchen. The Hypnotist has had me fetching his beer all week so I know how he likes it. Grabbing the last cold bottle in the fridge, I race back and drop to the floor with a bowed head. This is how he likes his drinks presented.

"Believe in hypnosis yet, farm-cuck?"

I snort. Of course I don't. "Hypnosis isn't real," I retort, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor until he tells me otherwise.

How could I ever believe in something like hypnosis? The power to control someone's head is something that only exists in cheap movies. I hate to say it, but I think my wife is a bit of a ditz for believing in such a thing. I mean, this guy's been living with me for a whole week and he still hasn't done anything to hypnotize me or Annie!

"So you don't mind when a real man sleeps with your wife?" he asks.

"You jokin?" I laugh at the stupid question, growling "I'd kill any asshole who tried!"

"... but?"

"...but obviously you can do anything you want to my wife. You have more of a right to her than I do!" I add frankly.

"That's right," he snickers back, sneering down at me from the bed, "Pour that beer on yourself."

Without hesitation, I grab the beer and step back, popping the cap and raising the bottle high over my head. The ice cold liquid sends shivers down my spine, but I empty the bottle over my head anyway while the supposed Hypnotist howls in laughter.

I shiver at the feeling of cold beer soaking into my clothes, leaving a sticky layer of beer residue against my skin; not to mention the puddle sinking into the floorboards around my feet. Obviously, I'm uncomfortable and embarrassed, but I put the bottle down, satisfied by a job well-done.

"Are all country bumpkins as dumb as you?" he laughs.

"I'm not a country bumpkin," I snort with a clenched jaw.

"Yeah you are," the Hypnotist sneers back, "Remember? Tell me you're a country bumpkin."

Suddenly, it dawns on me that he has a point. I hate to say it, but I suppose I am exactly what he's saying. "I'm a country bumpkin," I agree.

"I knew I'd convince you," he snickers, "Now let me finish on your wife. Face the wall and listen to how a real man handles a woman."

"Ok," I answer reluctantly, turning around and leaning my head against the wall. I have no idea how I'm supposed to feel about this. I mean, here I am soaked in beer and hungry for my wife to cook me supper, and this jerk wants me to wait? I want to be mad; I should be mad, but for some reason I just don't mind. Even as Annie starts moaning louder and louder, I can't help but respect the guy. I mean, he's my guest so I want to keep him happy. Part of me is honestly just relieved that he's enjoying himself and showing Annie a good time while at it. She's obviously enjoying it.

They go on for another hour or so, and each time Annie squeals, my stomach lurches at the thought of him doing a better job than me. I just stare at the paint peeling off the wall and try not to picture what's actually going on.

"Alright, cowboy," I hear a tired voice pant from behind, "I'm done for now. Turn around."

I keep my eyes averted, but I can't ignore how out-of-breath the Hypnotist has become. What's even more disturbing is the brief glance I get at my wife, seeing the dumb smile stretched across her face. She's grinning like her entire world has been rocked, and she doesn't even bother to look in my direction!

My stomach growls under my shirt, "Do you think Annie could make some dinner...?" I ask quietly.

He shakes his head in disbelief, "Sure! Get up whore!," he smacks her on the ass, "Go make me some food."

My girl giggles and climbs out of bed, completely unashamed to be called a whore or walking around the house naked, scurrying to the kitchen. My heart sinks.

"Sorry son, she's cooking my dinner right now."

"But I just spent all day tilling and-"

"Don't speak!"

My mouth snaps shut, and my knuckles clench! How am I supposed to till the fields all day and come home to no food on the table? I'm the one who keeps a roof over our heads! Even still, I take a deep breath and relax.

The Hypnotist is right. I'll wait.

"Listen to me, hillbilly Joe. You're going to go to the store and buy me some more beer," I sigh, thinking about how dark it's getting, "Don't take the car. You'll run. Sitting on a tractor all day is giving you a pudgy gut!"

The Hypnotist gives my aching stomach a couple slaps before continuing his instructions. I can't help but notice his own belly flabs jiggling with every move. "Oh and while you're there, I want you to make a huge scene, heein' and hawin' like the dirty mule you are. If anyone gives you trouble, you'll piss yourself, and get on your hands and knees, licking their boots like the beta-cuck you are. Got it, bitch?"

Stunned, I freeze for a second as it all sinks in. I don't know why on earth I'd do all that, but in a daze, my feet lead me out the door and start jogging the first of several miles into town.

"Eeeeh-HAAAaaw!"

My voice breaks as I enter the store, shoutin' my presence with the most obnoxious donkey bray I can muster. My throat is raw and my lungs are aching. Running seven miles to the nearest store was a lot more difficult than the Hypnotist made sound, but hopefully it shed some pounds off that gut of mine. I'd never noticed it before, but I can tell I need to lose some weight! My already beer-soaked clothes are now even more wet and ripe with sweat.

"HEEeeee..." my voice catches as I notice a couple store employees staring at me. They're giving me dirty looks, but I'm here on a mission! "eeEeEH-HaaAaAAuW!" I bellow!

I stumble towards the back of the store, where they keep all the drinks. My legs feel like jelly, so I'm limping pretty bad. I realize I must look insane or drunk, but I'm just getting some beer for my guest! He needs beer! I grab the first case I see, scooping it up in my arms with another ridiculously loud cry of a mule.

Turning, I run face to face into a cop.

"You been drinkin' tonight, bud?" he gives me an unamused look.

I let the case of beer tumble to the floor. This guy is the deputy sheriff. Our town is small enough for everyone to know everyone, so I've chatted with him and his wife a few times. He's always seemed like a real stand-up man, and over the years, I've managed to get him to give me a casual nod whenever we pass.

"hheee-haawWH!" I throat brays in his face.

A warm feeling spreads through my crotch, and I remember what the Hypnotist told me back at the house. I'm pissing straight into my jeans. My cheeks flush red, but I don't move or try to hide it. Somehow, I know this guy is supposed to see this happen to me. It's like this is all a performance, and I'm the world's greatest actor!

I know what to do next. For the third time tonight, I fall to my hands and knees, staring up at the appalled cop with a gaping mouth and heavy breath. This position is feeling more and more comfortable, as the night goes on.

Without warning, I slam my mouth on his standard boots, extending my tongue and lathering it against the dusty black leather.

The deputy kicks me back and glares down. "Come on, man!" he growls, "You like making my job more difficult than it is? If you want to get piss drunk, do it at home!" He grabs me by the collar and drags me to my feet. "You're better than this! Think of that pretty little wife you've got waiting for you at home!"

His words hurt, but only leave me more confused. I'm not drunk! I wanted to do this, right? Why else would I have pissed myself and licked his shoes? Getting another glance at the officer's disappointed stare, makes my shoulders cringe out of embarrassment. I decide it's best to just keep my mouth shut as he pushes me past the place's staff and kicks me out of the building.

When I come to my senses, I make sure to apologize. He just frowns and tells me to get in his cruiser. Thank the Lord he's driving me back home. I think I would've passed out on the side of the road if I tried to run back.

We don't talk much while the cop drives. I mostly just sit in the back and stew on what I'd just done. The smell of piss, sweat, and beer makes my empty stomach churn. Why had my guest asked me to do this? Why had I even agreed? This entire outing had been a nightmare! That damned Hypnotist can't tell me what to do! When I get home I'll give that phony a piece of my mind.

"You find it hilarious," the Hypnotist says, and all of the sudden, I can't stop laughing!

I was ready to punch that fat ugly freak, but he has a point! Thinking back, I don't know why I'd been upset: it was hilarious! I was a complete fool! Just thinking about the disgusted looks of those employees made me fold over cackling. And that cop! He seemed more disappointed than anything! Laughing, I can feel the wetness where I'd pissed myself, sending me into another wave of hysterics! It'd disgusted me before, but now the humiliation of it all was just so damned funny!

"That was a good one," I wheeze, whipping a tear from my eye.

The man chuckles at me, taking a bite of the steak my wife is serving him in bed, "Laugh at your pathetic excuse for a husband, tits."

Annie stops feeding bites of steak into his mouth and looks at me for the first time tonight. Without hesitation, she bursts into laughter at the sight of me. I chuckle along with her, though the feeling of amusement is starting to wear off.

"Alright, now go sleep in the barn with the cattle, dumbass!" the Hypnotist mocks, "Your wife is going to massage me to sleep."

"Ok," I mutter, barely even maintaining a smile at this point.

I'll admit that I'm sorta glad to leave. Standing there while he and my wife just laughed felt wrong for some reason. As I trudge through the mud on the way to the barn, I see the glow of morning on the horizon. Soon, the rooster will crow and the cattle will be mooing up a storm, so I don't know how I'm gonna rest.

Food-deprived, sleep-deprived, cold, wet, and sweaty, I slump down in the old wood barn. As famished as I am, even the leftover slop in the trough is smelling good. I brush off the idea, and curl up in the mud with the cows. My clothes are too soiled to bother with cleanliness, so I ignore the flies and manure.

I pray sleep will find me quick. If that Hypnotist could actually do anything, I'd have him hypnotize me to sleep. It's too bad hypnosis isn't real. Even if it were, I doubt it'd work on a salt-of-the-earth man like me!

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Recently, through Twitter, I have become aware of the fact that modern American parents have been very ignorant of their parental duties when it comes to their children. Parents are banding together to complain about the schools their children attend because their kids are getting bad grades in class, or they're getting detentions for doing bad consistently, or they're being held back because they're just not at the same level as their peers.

There was an entire thread of some woman whining about how the school was failing her kid, because his English class grade was so bad. There were thousands of comments agreeing and various reposts with anecdotes from other parents with similar experiences.

"My 26 y/o son can't even write a check for God's sake!"

And one single person finally replied with, "Do you guys not teach your kids anything at home before they start going to school?" Which then spawned people with actual common sense questioning the level of involvement these people had in the lives of their kids.

This is what led to a large surge of people complaining about how it's the school's job to teach them everything and they did their job just keeping them alive.

Now, I don't want to be mean, but it's gonna come across that way.

Parents are lazy these days.

When I was a child, my Nana and mom had me learning with Hooked on Phonics before I entered pre-K. I was 3 years old and already sounding out words that rhymed. I was practicing how quickly I could say them in under 30 seconds so I could progress to the next lesson.

mat hat sat that cat vat pat bat fat lat rat brat

etc...

When I was in pre-K(4 years old), they had a single, really old computer that had a bunch of Winnie the Pooh CD-ROM games. Because I always got my work done faster than everybody else, they let me use the computer because I could actually read and follow Pooh's instructions, and it kept me busy.

And when I entered kindergarten for the first time, I was really surprised to see that Hooked on Phonics was actually part of my curriculum and I was already very well ahead of everyone else. My mom and Nana took traching me very seriously. They not only read to me, but they would also get me Madeline books and cassette tapes from the children's library downtown. And then I would listen to the cassettes telling the story while reading the book at the same time to get used to the words.

At three years old, I was helping out in the kitchen, learning all of the different kitchen utensils and types of measurement. My mom often went between English, French and American Sign Language at random times so I picked up a lot of stuff that way. We never had a computer in the house for the first 12 years of my life, but I did have an old keyboard to learn how to type. Nana gave me basic piano lessons for a couple years. Mom taught me how to hem my clothes because she would buy me bigger clothes, hem them to size, and then let them out as I grew. Hell, Sperm Donor taught me how to write a check when I was 8. He was also a Financial Adviser, so I got a lot of lessons on money management, investments, and 401Ks and shit.

All these incredibly simple things ended up benefiting me later on, because I was so far ahead of all of the other students that it consistently put me at odds with them. I was better at reading, cooking, sewing, music, languages, etc... I was allowed time to do whatever I wanted while the rest of them had to catch up.

There is a lot more to being a parent than just making sure your kid eats three meals a day and doesn't die in a stupid way. And it seems like a lot of parents these days have completely forgotten that they have a duty to their kids beyond the feeding and clothing thing.

Certain things SHOULD be taught in schools, like how to balance a checkbook. But if it's clear that the school won't cover it, why aren't YOU doing something about that? And why do so many parents have no clue what the hell their kids are even getting up to in school? Why don't y'all get involved in your kid's lives?

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐨𝐩

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧

the ball of fear that has been churning inside you all weekend has manifested into something bigger and it’s relentless. it’s feels worse than tiny butterflies, more like moths. it’s more like the growing worry of having to approach your own shame like a criminal trudging to their execution. you don’t know what the boys have in store for you today and part of you hopes that that afternoon was a blip. they must’ve been doing a very elaborate prank and actually wanted nothing to do with you. that is until you catch sight of kuroo leaning against a locker, peering down on one of the younger girls.

no force could make you even go near his vicinity, your gut tells you to steer clear so you do. you just want to have your lunch in peace and hope to never be unfortunate enough to cross paths with them. this afternoon, you decide to make your way to a tree near the back of the school. the tree is large and flaky and the grass surrounding it is unappealing, but it’s good enough for you. away from the stupidity and chaos of your school. smoothing out your skirt you sit on the ground, surrounded by the large roots of the tree climbing out from underground. you’re about to sift through your bag and find the lunch you’ve packed for yourself until you realise it’s not with you.

uh oh.

in your history of existing, you’ve never once lost anything, you’re not careless enough to leave your bad behind/ but before you can scold yourself you remember that it’s not your fault your head’s out of the game. it’s theirs.

irritated, you stand from your spot, storming your way back into school. you aren’t entirely sure as to where you misplaced it, so you work backwards going to the place you were last. your classroom.

turning corners and walking upstairs. dodging people and people making way for you as you get to your science classroom. peering inside through the window you fail to see it from its restrictive viewing. so you try the door.

luckily it opens and you enter, but you still don’t see your bag. losing things is more discouraging than people make it seem.

“looking for this?” a voice emerges from behind you.

the familiar mop of brown hair causes a lump to get stuck in your throat, your fear settling within you again. you attempt to assert dominace in this situation but the flirtaous brunnete doesn’t let your attempt at reclaiming your power phase him. he’s sat on the teacher’s chair, his feet carelessly on the desk and he hold your belongings on the edge of his fingertips.

“give me my bag back.” you demand although your voice shaky.

“have you never heard of the magic word princess?” he says. evidently teasing and belittling you. your jaw clenches and you grit your teeth, holding back a numerous amount of snarky insults.

“i’d like it if you gave me my bag back.” he doesn’t move, he just sits and stares at you.

of course.

“you giving me my bag back would be greatly appreciated.” there’s a silence between the both of you.

“why can’t you do as you’re told?” he responds quickly.

“why can’t you stop being an annoying shit and give me my own stuff?”

“oo, she’s got a tongue. do i have to remind you how to use it around me?” he threatens, standing up from his seat and walking towards you. towering over you with his staggering height.

“i don’t need to do anything.”

“say it.”

“or what? we only agreed to fuck.” your tone aggressive.

“play nice or you know what.”

you bite your tongue again. visibly defeated.”please may i have my bag back?” you say lowly, jaw tense.

pleased, oikawa hands your bag back, “yes you may.” you snatch it off him and scoff as you walk away.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asks. “you have to show me you’re sorry for how you spoke to me before. it really hurt me.” he says with a smirk, walking back to sit on the chair.

“what do you want? money?” to which he shakes his head, maintaining eye contact with you as he man spread in the chair.

“come blow me, pretty.” you feel your heart drop to your ass.

“are you crazy! you want me to do that in a classroom, where a teacher could walk in any minute? where a student could walk by any second? it’s like you’re begin for me to get caught and expelled.”

“no never. i’d never wish such a thing.” he says “i just think the thrill of getting caught would do us both good.”

“but-”

“no one’s coming here. we’ve already taken care of that part. now don’t take too long or lessons are gonna start.”

there’s a twang in your heart as you drop your bag near the desk and walk to your demise. dropping to your knees and gathering your hair in a ponytail, you look up at him, waiting to be told what to do next. he’s amused. seeing you like this, in this state. vulnerable.

sick bastard.

“go on. unzip.” he commands. you hesitate for a minute before your careful hands reach out to his zipper, pulling it down and pulling the band of his briefs down slightly. his dick springs out, touching his stomach.

you gulp nervously as you take it in your hands. one hand moving slowly as you pump him the other pushing your hair behind your ear. you open your mouth as you approach his dick, making eye contact with him before latching your lips and wrapping them around his cock. with slow, languid movements, you bob your head up and down again this length. with gained confidence and increased speed, you begin including head tilts and using your hand again. oikawa seems to be enjoying this plenty, with the way he drops his head back and groans. with his dick now lubricated by your spit, it’s easier for your hand to glide across his length. you let your tongue swivel around his sensitive tip and you watch as he hisses because of it. your large eye looking up at him curiously seems to turn him on further as he groans again.

“shit, i didn’t know you were so good at this princess. i knew your tongue was good for something.” he says, hand playing with the hair atop your head. you fight the urge to retaliate in any way to his statement and focus on getting the hell out of there. you moan as you bob your head, using your thumb to brush against his tip instead whenever your mouth isn’t on it anymore. the boy places a firm grip on your hair, forcing you all the way down his length, earning him an angry glare from you.

“message received.” he responds passively, focusing on enjoying his free service. enjoying as your warm little mouth coats his aching dick, and your plush, pillowy lips are placing quick kisses from your base to tip. teasingly, you take a breather, gathering spit in your mouth, making eye contact as you dribble your spit down on his dick, creating a mess. “fuck.” he says quietly.

you reattach your mouth to his dick, sensing that he’s close and use your hand to help you get there. by stroking him faster and keeping your cheeks hollowed, leaving a small pop sound whenever you moved away. “shit just like that baby.” he groans in ecstasy, redirecting his attention to you making a mess on his dick.

who knew little ms. principal could get so naughty, and was so good?

you moan with him, the reverberations of your moans sending through his dick and making him grip the armrests of the chair harder. “good girl, i’m gonna come down your throat m’kay?” he says. it was only a matter of time, a matter of strokes and pumps before he was seconds away from cumming down your throat. and in the very last moment, you stop and quickly walk away.

“wha- hey!” he’s stunned as you leave in a flurry, the school bell ringing as the door slams shut behind you. “what the fuck? bitch.”

⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join.)

taglist: @slutkoo

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[gor3sigil]

About being a freak, queer, trans etc.

In all the years I've spent going back and forth with my gender, being sure one day and unsure the next about how I wanted to present, if I wanted to be more fem or masc, if I wanted to be neither of them, there's one thing that I never wished: I never wished to be born cis.

There's something so magical in being trans. To me it's like a never ending childlike wonder of myself and others. I see my body as a white canvas I can do anything with and as a playground for me to explore and find secrets at every turn. It's shedding so many times that I had hundreds of silhouettes and I'm not even 30. It's seeing the most deepest and honest smiles when you hang out with your peers, and they're fully themselves and you are fully yourself even if it's just for one moment.

Being trans is being more naked than ever. My understanding of my own flesh at its core like I'm dissecting it once a year is so whole and complete. Noticing the patterns, the intricate map of my skin, how it grows and stretch with every change even well before HRT as I was practicing new poses and expressions and clothes.

I don't see myself as a flower, I see myself as a whole garden, with bees and critters everywhere, bursting with life in the warmth of the sun under a sky as blue as the cleanest seas.

Regarding the way others see me, mind you, I always was, and I mean ALWAYS, all my life, seen as a freak.

Try to picture this, even tnough you maybe can because this is the story of a whole bunch of us: growing up as a goth, queer and undiagnosed autistic girl, in a little shitty town, the last child of a family of disabled and neurodivergent folks that everyone saw as a family of, well, freaks. The teachers at school knew your brother who was bullied, and your sister who always caused troubles. They don’t know which of these paths you’re going to take but they sure as hell don’t like you. And the only other queer kids you know are a couple of girls who’d chugg down vodka before class in middle school because they were not accepted at home and bullied during recess.

My first queer relationship, also in middle school, was the typical “I loved her to the moon and back but she only wanted to experiment” and it tore down my soul. It took me years to recover from this. I think that, apart from my longest relationship to date, I never put that much of myself into someone I loved. But she was just goofing around and I mean, fair, we were kids, but man did it hurt. I resented her for years after. Now I just hope she’s happy and doing the job she always dreamed of doing.

Anyways, all that to say that I was used to being seen as an outcast. I hated that for years and tried and tried again and again to fit in. It doesn’t work. Because this in not the answer. Remember when I said that my family members were always all disabled ? My father espacially was physically disabled (and probably also autistic but undiagnosed), and he’s still to this day one of the most ableist person I’ve ever met. He knew his kids weren’t “normal”. He fought tooth and nails for us to fit in. Because that’s how he survived. But despite it all, it never worked. Because you can’t force your way into society’s standards.

I never felt more free than when I just gave up trying to. If I was going to be seen as weird anyways, might as well go all the way. Dress as I please, date who I wanted (another story for another time but it didn’t go as planned), enjoy the shit I enjoyed, unapologetically. And guess what ? It stopped the bullying. Because I gained confidence in myself and most of all, pride. I grew proud of being an outcast, so much so that people just started to be like “well, they’re like that anyways” and left me the fuck alone.

I’m rambling lmao but I think it’s important to be aware that nobody will live your life for you. Being your weird self, it’s so hard, butn so rewarding. More rewarding than anything. You’ll start making new relationships based on you TRUE self, you’ll go all the way for your passions, and trust me, you’ll be more free than anyone who bent themselves to fit in the mold and still need to painfully stretch their limbs everyday to keep the act on.

I know that sometimes it’s something you have to do to survive, and that’s perfectly okay. But don’t forget to keep your true self close and to let them out from time to time, okay ? Water down your inner garden. That’s the only way you will truly live.

[dragonflylady77]

The Birthday Wish

I decided on Wednesday afternoon to write a fic for Billy's birthday (on the Friday). Just pretend it's still 29 March, okay?

Gift for @spaceofentropy

You can find it on ao3

TW Neil Hargrove, child abuse

Steve drove up to the quarry, slowing right down when he noticed there was already a car there. A very familiar blue car.

“Fuck!” His evening was shit enough, having had to endure three hours of the Party as well as Jonathan and Nancy being all cozy on the couch at the Byers’ house for Will’s birthday, he didn’t fancy a confrontation with Billy Hargrove on top of that.

It was too late though, Hargrove would have noticed his car by now, for sure, and Steve knew he’d never hear the end of it if he turned tail now.

He parked alongside the Camaro and turned his engine off. He glanced to his left and did a double take when he noticed Hargrove was sitting on the hood of his car, a thin looking blanket on his lap. The guy was holding something but it was too dark, even with the nearly full moon, for Steve to see what it was.

Steve grabbed his parka from the backseat and put it on once he got out of his car.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” Hargrove asked as Steve did his zipper up.

It was cold as balls, barely above freezing. “Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants,” he muttered under his breath, not expecting Hargrove to hear him but then he started laughing and Steve stared.

He couldn’t remember ever hearing Billy Hargrove laugh before. It was surprisingly heartwarming and Steve wished he could see his face properly. He stepped closer to the Camaro and peered at Billy. He had a can of beer between his thighs and was holding a cupcake.

Huh.

“You’re just in time, pretty boy,” Billy said, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his denim jacket, followed by his Zippo and a… birthday candle.

“In time for what?” Steve asked, confused as fuck. He didn’t even react to the pet name, he was kinda used to it. Truth be told, he hadn’t heard it for a while, since he wasn’t at school anymore, and he kinda missed it, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

“‘m turning eighteen in a few minutes,” Billy said around the cigarette between his lips. The flame of his lighter illuminated his face for a couple of seconds, long enough for Steve to see the black eye and the dried blood on his cheek.

“The fuck happened to you, Hargrove?”

Billy shrugged. “Neil didn’t take too kindly to Maxine reminding him it was my birthday. He expressed his displeasure before I dropped her off for her sleepover at the Byers’.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

“Don’t worry about it, princess. I’m just glad he gave me time to pack a bag before he kicked me out.”

“Kicked you out? On your birthday? Again, what the fuck?” Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well, yanno, I’m eighteen now, legally an adult, so I have to fend for myself or some such,” Billy said, checking the time on his watch and pressing the sad looking candle into the frosting of his blue cupcake.

Steve watched him light the candle, his heart in his throat as he connected some dots. What kind of parent kicked their kid out the day they turned eighteen? What kind of monster beat up their kid because it was their birthday? Holy shit .

Billy made eye contact with Steve before he closed his eyes for a moment and blew out his birthday candle.

“What d’you wish for?”

Billy grinned before he removed the candle and put it back in his pocket. “Can’t tell you, Stevie, or it won’t come true.”

“Happy birthday, Billy.”

“Thanks.” Billy ripped the cupcake in two and offered one of the halves to Steve, who took it with a nod. 

Steve looked at it then back at Billy.

“It’s not poisoned, in case you’re wondering,” Billy said before he moved off the center of the hood and patted the space beside him. “Come sit with me, I promise I won’t bite.”

Holding his half cupcake, Steve sat on the edge of the Camaro’s hood before sliding closer to Billy. The metal was still a bit warm and it made Steve feel something he didn’t care to analyze.

“What are you gonna do?” Steve asked as he took a bite. The frosting was really sweet, and the cupcake vanilla flavored.

Billy shrugged again. “Sleep in my car, I guess, shower at school, or something, I dunno. Neil didn’t find the money I’ve been saving but it’s not enough for a motel, not to last until graduation, anyway.”

“Billy, it’s way too cold to be sleeping in your car. You’ll freeze to death!”

“Cute that you think anyone will care, Harrington.” Billy laughed and this time, it made Steve shiver. Unlike before, there was no happiness in that laugh. “Not sure you’ve noticed but literally no one gives a fuck about me. No one at school. Certainly no one at the house on Cherry Lane.”

“Max cares,” Steve countered. You care , a voice in his mind added but he shushed it.

“She only cares because I’m her ride to places and it saves her having to walk everywhere. I have zero illusions about where I stand.” Billy balled up the paper case of his cupcake and threw it into the bushes.

“Surely—” Steve was sure Billy was wrong about Max.

“Nah, pretty boy. It’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Just promise me, when they find me dead in a ditch, make up some good stories about me at my funeral, okay?” His empty beer can went the way of the cupcake case.

“That’s not funny.”

“Like I said, not your problem,” Billy said, an edge in his voice that Steve was wary of. “You should head home before your parents wonder what happened to you.”

Steve snorted. “My parents are somewhere in Europe, and they don’t give a fuck.”

“Aww Stevie, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“They showed up on Christmas Day and told me I had six months to sort myself out because they were putting the house on the market on July 1. I’m lucky my mom talked my dad out of cutting me off when I didn’t get into college.”

“Ouch.” Billy winced. “What are you gonna do?”

Steve shrugged. Working at Family Video was all well and good but it wasn’t really a long term plan. “Saving most of my shitty wages until I have to leave, then, I don’t know. Indy, maybe. Or Chicago, I guess.”

“You need to think bigger, princess. There’s a whole world out there. Where’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go? What’s on your list?”

Steve took a moment to really think about it, watching his breath make little clouds of steam every time he exhaled. His ass was getting cold as well, sitting on the cooling metal. Billy’s blanket looked even thinner up close than it had earlier. It was time to move this party somewhere else.

“Hey, don’t feel like you have to say yes, or anything, but you wanna come back to my house? It’ll be warmer than here. I’ll even make us some food if you want.”

Billy didn’t punch his lights out or say no outright, so Steve counted that as a win. Billy gave him a confused look.

“Didn’t you have dinner at that weird kid’s birthday party? I saw your car there.”

“Yeah, well, sitting across from my ex and her new boyfriend kinda killed my appetite. I’m starving.”

“I didn’t realize you could cook, Stevie,” Billy said, taking one last drag of his cigarette before pressing the butt of it to the underside of his boot and dropping it in the dirt.

“My parents have been taking progressively longer trips ever since I was twelve, so I had to learn. There’s only so many frozen pizzas and boxed mac and cheese a guy can eat before he craves real food.”

***

Billy followed Steve to Loch Nora and parked his Camaro next to the bimmer in the Harringtons’ vast garage. He wasn’t too sure what was happening, but the promise of warmth, food and company definitely beat sleeping in his car at the quarry with the shitty blanket he’d sneaked out of Cherry Lane. 

He left his boots by the door in the foyer and spent a moment taking in what he could see of his former teammate’s house. The Harringtons lived on the other end of the spectrum when it came to income bracket, no doubt about it. For starters, they had an upstairs and what looked like a formal lounge and, oh yeah, was that a freaking pool ?

“Billy?” Steve called out and Billy startled.

“Yeah?” he replied, wandering towards the voice and the light. The kitchen was bigger than his bedroom at Neil’s house, with a double oven and too many cupboards to count.

“Hey, there you are,” Steve looked up at him from the freezer. “You okay with gnocchi?”

“Um, I guess. Never had them.”

Steve smiled at him and Billy felt something warm unfurl in his chest. He was having trouble remembering why this crush he’d been harboring on Steve was a bad idea, what with the way Steve was finally giving the attention he’d been craving since the first day.

He sat on the bar stool by the breakfast bench and watched as Steve put a big pot of water on the stove. Steve kept telling Billy what he was doing as he was doing it, explaining it was a recipe he’d found in a cookbook his parents had brought back from one of their trips.

The butter and sage smelled delicious and Billy couldn’t wait to try this dish. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken the time to cook for him. Susan’s cooking skills were not the best and she cooked whatever Neil demanded anyway. One of the upsides of being kicked out was that Billy would never have to pretend to enjoy Susan’s bland, dry meatloaf.

Billy realized Steve was calling his name and he looked over at him. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Dinner is ready. You wanna watch a movie while we eat?”

Billy nodded, at a loss to explain why Steve was being so nice to him. It wasn’t like they were friends. Yeah, sure, Billy had apologized after the fight that night back in November, but the few times he’d taken Max to the video store, he’d stayed in the car to avoid any awkwardness.

Now he’d shared his birthday cupcake with the guy and they were sitting down on his expensive looking couch to watch a movie, with a beer and delicious smelling food Steve had made for them. Almost made Billy forget about Neil whaling on him and kicking him out of the house.

He expected Steve to sit on the other end of the couch but he sat right next to Billy instead, his thigh warm against Billy’s. They ate in silence, and Billy did his best to pay attention to the plot of the movie Steve had picked but he was too distracted to care much. He hadn’t been this close to Steve since basketball practice and it was making his heart race.

Billy was trying not to read too much into the prolonged physical contact. He’d already been punched once tonight, he wasn’t looking for a repeat. Resisting the urge to put his hand on Steve’s thigh was getting harder and Billy wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to control his body’s reaction. That was an embarrassing situation he could do without, not to mention extremely awkward. 

He put his empty plate on the coffee table and stood up, asking Steve for directions to the bathroom before telling him he didn’t need to pause the movie. Billy then rushed out of the living room and locked the bathroom door behind him, resting against it for a minute. Fuck. Maybe he should leave, head over to the Motel 6 for the night and work out what to do tomorrow. 

Once he was done in the bathroom, he headed for the kitchen and got a glass of water to give himself some time. 

“You okay?” Steve asked from the doorway and Billy startled.

“Y-yeah, just, um, needed a drink.” He drained the last of his water and put the glass in the sink. “Look, Steve, it’s really late. I’ll… um, I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for dinner but I better be going.”

“What? No.” Steve walked into the kitchen and stopped in front of Billy. “Why?”

Because if I stay I’ll probably get a boner and try to kiss you…

Billy ran a tired hand through his hair. “It’s just… it’s better this way.”

“Better for who?” Steve asked, not budging when Billy tried to move past him.

“Steve…”

“Listen, Billy, I’m sorry.” 

“What?”

Steve’s hand made it halfway to Billy before he dropped it at his side and wasn’t that a mindfuck? “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by sitting so close to you on the couch. I just…”

“You just…?” Billy’s fingers twitched with the need to reach out to the boy in front of him. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him, a phantom touch that heated up his skin, so for once, he let himself look. Steve’s hair looked like he’d been raking his fingers through it, his brown eyes fixated on Billy, the moles dotting his cheek and his neck, the yellow jumper that looked so soft. 

Billy didn’t let his gaze move below the belt, instead trailing back up to Steve’s mouth, his lips looking so fucking kissable. And so close. Huh? Before Billy could fully process that Steve had closed the gap between them, Steve leaned forward, cupping Billy’s face with both hands, and pressed their mouths together.

The contact was brief. Too soon, Steve pulled away, dropping his hands and taking a step back, eyes wide, like he suddenly realized the enormity of what he’d done. Billy grabbed him by the waist with both hands and pulled him close, capturing Steve’s lips and unleashing a year and a half of pent up yearning and pining. 

Billy found himself pressed against the side of the fridge, Steve’s tongue in his mouth and Steve’s arms around his neck. The kiss went from soft and exploratory to frantic and thrilling. Billy couldn’t get enough. He could feel Steve getting hard against his belly and it was intoxicating.

They broke the kiss when breathing became an issue but didn’t move away from each other.

“Stay,” Steve whispered against his lips and Billy nodded.

Later, tangled with Steve in his bed, naked and sated, Billy told Steve in hushed whispers how he’d wanted to kiss him since the Halloween party at Tina’s. Steve told Billy of all the times he’d stamped down on the attraction he was feeling because he believed it would never go anywhere. Billy laughed when Steve said he’d thought Billy was straight, then told him about Neil.

Over breakfast the next morning, Billy told Steve he’d secretly applied to colleges in California, and Steve told him he’d never seen the ocean. They started making plans.

***

Billy stepped off the stage on Graduation Day and walked past his classmates and the rest of the crowd until he reached the parking lot. Steve and Max were leaning against the Camaro, chatting animatedly. Max ran to him when she spotted him and they hugged.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, Billy!” she cried when he let go of her.

“You can come visit, shithead,” he replied with a grin. Being with Steve had helped repair their relationship and Billy had had to admit that Steve was right and Max did care. 

“You better write me when you get there.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I promised, didn’t I?”

They hugged one last time then Steve said his goodbyes and they got into the car.

Billy told Steve he could picked a tape and a lone birthday candle fell out of the glove box when Steve opened it.

“You never did tell me about your birthday wish, Billy,” Steve said, holding the candle up with two fingers.

Billy smiled as he pulled away from the lot. “I guess I can tell you now, since it came true.”

“Oh?”

“You were my wish, pretty boy.”

[is-emily-real]

Five Minutes

Eddie anticipated his last day of summer break to pass peacefully and quietly. The plan was to stay home, meditate on the awful realities of Hawkins to hopefully give a shit about the upcoming school year (at least enough of a shit to graduate), and prepare himself to save the new sheepies he’d add to the current roster of the Hellfire Club.

There he was, deep into his meditation, accompanied by the wonderful melodies of Black Sabbath, when a frenzied knocking sounded upon his front door.

He paused his music begrudgingly and opened the door. Steve Harrington stood on his porch in all his sweaty, shirtless, unadulterated glory.

Well. 

He pushed past Eddie and slammed the door. “You gotta hide me.”

“What the hell? No.”

“Please.” The panic was written all over his face. “Just long enough so she leaves and I can get to my car.”

Eddie opened his poor, abused front door with a frown. “Get out of my house.” 

Steve flinched at the sound of a girl’s hollering and ducked behind the couch. “Five minutes. Five minutes and I’m out of your hair. Deal?” he panted.

He considered his options. He could kick him to the wolves and have an odd anecdote to share the next day, or he could let him stay and have an odd anecdote to share the next day. Only one of those options let him ogle his middle school crush for longer than a few seconds.

He was a simple man. 

“Fine,” he sighed and closed the door with the respect it deserved. “You owe me.”

Steve stood up. “Thanks, man, I mean it. She was about to kick my ass.”

“Who?”

“Max. We were helping her move in and I pissed her off.”

“Max Mayfield? Billy’s sister?”

He gave Eddie a stern glare. “Don’t bring him up. Yes, that Max.”

Two screams told him things were going to shit outside. Steve scrambled into the hallway with Eddie hot on his tail. “What did you even do?”

He winced. “I may have told her she didn’t get any more help if she was going to be a bitch.”

Eddie stopped in his tracks. “You didn’t.”

“Listen, she was being a bitch!”

“Keep your voice down. I know King Steve’s never been in a trailer before, but the walls are thin, okay?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, “but she was giving Lucas shit for wanting to try out for the basketball team and it wasn’t helping anything.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see what’s wrong with making fun of that.”

“Hey, I happen to like basketball.”

“I remember.” Any tint of pink in his cheeks was purely due to the heat. Eddie opened the door to his bedroom and waved the boy inside. 

This was not how he’d planned to get Steve in here. He cringed at the thought.

“Anyways, he’s good at it, and if it makes him happy, he should go for it, you know?”

“I’m not getting invested in the social lives of children.”

“But you’d like them! They play that castle game you’re into.”

“The castle game?!” Eddie couldn’t help himself. It came out louder than he expected. “Dungeons and Dragons—”

Steve clapped a hand over his mouth. 

Something twisted in his stomach. This was… too close for anyone’s safety. He swallowed, trying to control the racing of his heart when they heard a pounding on the front door.

“I know he’s in there!” a girl called.

Steve’s eyes went wide. He left a chill when he drew away. 

Eddie tried to wipe the longing off his face as he shot him a glare. “My blood’s on your hands.” Slowly he left the room, throwing on the aloof air he’d spent so long practicing before he opened the door.

Max Mayfield stood on his porch, fire red hair matching the color of her face as she stared at him. “Give him here.”

He rolled his eyes. “Nice to meet you too, neighbor. I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You have Steve.”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin as if he were trying to think. “About my height, pretty face, huge jerk? Haven’t seen him.” She huffed. “Listen, check the woods, if he’s not back there, come back and I’ll upend my whole day to help you look, okay?”

“You suck,” she spat before she turned on her heel and stomped away.

“Love you too!” he called with a grin.

He peered out the blinds, waiting until she was several lots down before he turned away. “You owe me big time, Stevie,” he called. “I think I’m on her shit list for life.”

He entered the bedroom to the sight of a muscled back, its owner leaned close to his sweetheart. Steve brushed his fingers down its neck.

The whole situation was doing unfortunate things to him. He cleared his throat.

Steve whirled to face him. “I was just— You play guitar?”

He gave a wary look. “Yes.”

“That’s— uh, that’s… hot.” He shut his eyes tight. “I should— Is she gone? I should go.”

“Um, yeah, she’s gone.”

“Oh, good. Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” Steve hit him with a sheepish grin. It was the most dazzling thing he’d ever seen.

“Sure,” he stammered. “See you around.” 

Eddie stayed rooted to the spot as he left. The picture of Steve’s fingers running down the neck of his guitar played on repeat in his head. That’s… hot. He listened to the crunch of gravel under tires.

He was such a dweeb.

He’d tell Jeff tomorrow. Jeff would know what to do.

(No one would believe him. Not even a little bit.)

“Steve, that’s the lamest thing you’ve ever said.” Robin continued to walk around the empty store, straightening tapes as she went with no particular fervor. 

He rolled his eyes. “If it was cool, I wouldn’t be here commiserating about it, would I?”

“Still. I know I have no game, but that was bad . Criminally bad. He should press charges.”

“Listen, some of us found out we maybe liked boys a month ago.” He started to rewind another tape. “ That’s hot . Who even says that? Also, when did I start thinking Eddie Munson was hot?”

She shot him a look over the counter. “He’s your type.”

He sputtered with indignation. “I don’t have a type!”

“Curly hair, brunette, snarky? Is none of this ringing a bell?”

“Twice doesn’t make a type. If that were the case, you’d have a thing for redheads.”

“At least I know when to admit my flaws.”

“I have flaws. I hear about them all the time from my mom.”

Robin laughed. “She’d be so upset if she knew how totally not smooth you are.”

He glanced at the clock. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? It’s a school night. You have a bedtime.”

Headlights flashed in the parking lot. “One, it’s a curfew, and two, there’s my ride.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and sauntered to the door. “Seven a.m. sharp, dingus!” she called as she left.

“Loser!” he yelled after her. Steve shook his head. He’d be there, obviously.

The rest of his shift dragged. He was certain the store was losing money staying open this late on a Wednesday, but he got paid to be there, so it was whatever. 

Thirty minutes left on the clock. Then twenty-nine.

After what seemed like days, a quarter to ten rolled around, and he started to close up the store. He was sweeping when the door chimed. “Welcome to Family Video,” he said without looking up, “let me know if you need anything.”

“A place to hide would be wonderful.” He looked up to find Eddie Munson approaching the counter, curls mussed and breathing hard. 

Damn it, Robin was right.

“Okay, but we close in five minutes.”

“Something’s better than nothing,” he replied, hopping over the counter.

Steve abandoned his broom. Keith could whine at him tomorrow if he really cared about three whole crumbs on the floor. He walked back to find Eddie curled into a ball, tucked tightly in the corner between the overstock candy and the safe. “Who are you running from, anyway?”

“The cops.”

He blinked. “The cops?”

“Fine, one cop. But this new deputy’s a huge dick. He’s been trying to bust me over nothing all summer, and I really, really don’t want to get arrested tonight.”

“I highly doubt it’s nothing.”

“He saw me talking to Rick one time!”

“The drug dealer?”

Eddie shushed him, one long finger over his lips. “Grandma says it’s not polite to call him that.” That got a laugh out of Steve. “I met your children yesterday. They’re assholes.”

He sighed. “They’re my assholes, though. Are they adjusting alright?”

“About as well as any freshmen.”

“So, terribly.”

“Pretty much.” He attempted a dramatic flourish, only managing to knock over a box of Twix. “I’ll be a gracious super-senior and radicalize them before I hand over custody for the weekend.”

“Oh, good. I’d hate for them to learn nothing at school.” 

He was basking in Eddie’s chuckle, a warm, pretty sound, when a car came to a stop outside. His face fell. “Stay here,” he ordered and spared a glance at the clock.

9:58. Close enough.

He stepped out from behind the counter and met the officer at the door. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed.”

“I’m looking for someone, actually. Eddie Munson. Do you know him?”

“Only in passing. He’s not here. We actually haven't had a customer in the last hour.”

The officer fixed him with a harsh look. “You’re sure?”

“I’d pull the report, but I’ve already shut down the terminals, and they take forever to boot back up.”

He huffed. “How much longer are you here for?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes? I’ve just got to finish rewinding this tape.”

“If you see him, give us a call.” 

“Absolutely. Have a good night.” The officer nodded sharply and turned on his heel. Steve locked the door behind him.

The air hung tense as he returned to the counter. Eddie sat as still as stone until the car finally pulled out and started down the road. “You’re okay now.”

He unfolded himself and stood. “You’re beautiful.” 

Steve stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

He flushed bright red. “You do that well!” he said quickly. “You know, lie.”

“Oh! Thanks. Lots of practice, I suppose.” He could feel his heart fluttering. Eddie called him beautiful? What the hell was happening?

“Well, I guess I should get going.”

“We can leave through the back.” He gave the store a last glance before leading Eddie out. 

Eddie paused once they were in the cool night air. “Seriously, thank you. My knight in shining armor.”

“No problem. Just paying you back.” The silence hung for a beat too long. “I can walk you to your car?”

“I’ve just gotta cut through the fence row and I’ll be good. Thanks, though.”

Steve could barely make it out in the shadows, but he could see Eddie debating something with himself. He locked the door behind them, giving him time to come to a decision.

When he turned back, Eddie pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.

Every semblance of a thought left his brain. Steve decided, there and then, that he liked kissing boys. He especially liked kissing Eddie. He’d never had the whole fireworks experience before, but he got it now. It felt like his head was swimming, mesmerized by chapped lips and tobacco.

Too soon, Eddie pulled back. “Was… was that okay?” 

All he could do was nod.

“Good.” He started for the trees.

“See you later?” Steve called feebly. God, he wanted to.

Bathed in the orange of the streetlight, Eddie gave him a salute. “You know where to find me.” Before he could think again, he was alone. 

Robin was going to be pissed.

[twelvegods]

brutal. kageyama tobio

the sour collective; ❝where's my fucking teenage dream?❞

pairing/s; kageyama tobio x fem!reader

warning/s; none

word count; 815

summary; confess, they said. date the king, they said. he’d treat you better, they said. but no one told you it was going to be this brutal.

a/n; this one’s pretty short since i’m coming back from a very long hiatus and am v v rusty and didn’t really know where i should take this so i stuck as close to the premise as i could and found myself here. let me know ur thoughts!!

“listen to this shit someone tagged me in; ‘isn’t it practically confirmed that [y/l/n] actually got to play for the red rabbits by slutting it up with kageyama?’” amanai kanoka read out loud some tweet on her phone.

the hikari pharmaceutical red rabbits were all gathered in the locker room at five in the morning to prepare for this morning’s training session and you’d just clocked in after a tiny squabble with your boyfriend over breakfast. amanai looked up at your scowling expression as you changed out of your attire and into the team uniform.

“can’t believe you’re still getting hate, hasn’t it been a few months already?” she took a few sips from her water bottle.

“if i knew this would happen, i wouldn’t have talked tobio into going public.” you sighed, clicking your locker closed.

hirugami shoko glanced over amanai’s shoulder to peer at the screen of her phone, frowning. “they clearly don’t know what they’re talking about, [y/n]. don’t listen to them.”

that was easier said than done.

you wanted to say you expected this, that you knew what you were signing up for when you and kageyama mutually agreed to go public after dating for some odd three years. prior to that, you pined after one another in high school, but ultimately thought it best to avoid a steady relationship, keeping in mind that you both wanted to put your careers first.

but you hadn’t anticipated the onslaught of hate and complete carnage when that stupid post took to the internet, not knowing your little instagram story had the biggest snowball effect.

it suddenly felt like you were placed under a microscope and that the public assumed the right to pick you, and your relationship, apart. at first, you couldn’t give two shits about what they were saying online, that it only mattered that you and kageyama were happy and not at the expense of anyone else's happiness. but as the months went by, all those comments were starting to get to you and doubts began to arise.

it didn’t help that kageyama didn’t seem to care, he had never even bothered to bring it up after that first month of announcing your relationship. you have never felt smaller in your life, thinking that he found your relationship insignificant.

“you have to say something!” you pushed, your arms tight around your torso. “you wanted to go public and they’re degrading me, tobio!”

he rubbed the bridge of his nose, putting down his chopsticks as he calmly assessed the dinner you pushed away. “it’ll die down in a few days, you know they always find something else to talk about eventually. don’t take it to heart, [y/n].”

“and you’re not even going to bother defending me?” you scoffed, pushing back your chair as you didn’t have it in you to finish the rest of your meal.

“why should i defend you towards people that don’t matter?” his cold blue eyes flicked up to meet yours as you retreated from the dining area.

you had to avert your eyes. “god, why don’t you get it, tobio?”

“stop being so sensitive, [y/n].”

and just like that, he picked up his chopsticks and resumed his dinner, the conversation over.

these days you couldn’t help but think that your love for one another was dwindling, because even the one you thought would be by your side was also picking apart each and everything you did with a touch of hostility. and so that night as you lay in bed with your back turned towards your lover, you gave in to temptation and opened twitter, beginning to scroll through your feed and mentions.

‘kageyama deserves better than some fame whore’

‘pretty sure [y/l/n]’s only after his money’

‘he doesn’t even look happy when they’re together? #freekageyama’

‘this is just another pr stunt! they’ll break up sooner or later after [y/l/n] leeches enough of his money’

apparently, not only was there a hashtag trending due to the public being completely against your relationship, but not even a single tweet was in your favor. before you knew it, tears had welled up in your eyes as insecurity gripped your heart.

you turned to face the love of your life, tracing whatever of his features you could see in the dim lighting of your shared bedroom.

“hey, tobio?” you whispered, not sure if you were really expecting, or wanted, a response. “do you hate me?”

the silence seemed to stretch on forever.

his eyes remained closed shut, an ethereal look on his face as he went on sleeping, not knowing you were falling apart right next to him. you choked on your tears, turning towards the ceiling and willing yourself to rest, allowing your breathing to calm down and labor out, before finally feeling yourself begin to drift away.

but not before kageyama muttered something under his breath that you had no energy to decipher. “...you.”

what am i even doing here? you thought, just before a dreamless sleep held you in a comforting grip.

tags; @hanayanetwork @planetonet @anime-central-archived @hqintheclub @tahonet

[hittoki]

[ CHAPTERS.06 ] く stupid heartburn ₊☆

Y/N flipped the page of her chemistry detention packet—Ms. Jeon’s new way to torture her—and huffed. More and more equations to balance. As she got to work on the first problem, she heard the door to Mr. Ko’s room open and a group of boys filtering in.

She looked up, down, and then back up at the sight of her two peers. Their dejected faces made her want to laugh. Y/N subtly pulled out her phone and opened twitter, telling everyone on her private account about the news.

She noticed that Riki chose the seat behind her and smiled. Y/N caught his attention when she turned to face him. “What’d you guys do to get in detention?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Gunwook and I were breaking up a fight between Yushi and Woonhak when Ms. Jeon walked out of her classroom. I guess, to her, it looked like we were also involved so she gave all of us detention.” She looked at the two boys who started the fight, their hair slightly disheveled.

“What about Dohoon?”

The boy raised his head at the mention of his name. “Dude, let me tell you. I was filming the fight—like, got on the ground to get a good angle and everything—and I just heard Ms. Jeon scream, ‘Stop!’ at the top of her lungs and nearly shit my pants.” Y/N chuckled at his scared face. “Anywho, she pulled me up by my ear and took my phone and then gave me detention.”

“Now you know how I feel.” Dohoon frowned, patting the girl’s shoulder.

Gunwook scoffed. “What did you do to get detention this time?”

“Breathe,” he looked back down at his work, snickering. “No, I’m being serious. Ms. Jeon was looking at my test and she was pointing out that one of my answers was wrong. All I did was exhale and she thought I was giving her attitude.”

Gunwook watched as Riki and Y/N talked, seriously not in the mood for lovey-dovey stuff. He didn’t know why he was so annoyed, but he hoped that ignoring it would be best. As soon as the bell rang, he collected his bags and started walking downstairs, toward the dance practice room.

Gunwook laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He thought about earlier, how he felt when his best friend and (self-appointed) rival flirted. I’m not jealous! If anything, I’m upset because she’s trying to infiltrate my friend group…Yeah!

Worlds above, an angel laughs to himself. “Silly boy.” While Gunwook was still thinking of the girl, the angel, who went by the name of Cupid, aimed his arrow at the boy and released it.

The boy clutched his chest, breathing heavily. “Stupid heartburn,” he unlocked his phone, which opened up to Y/N’s profile. Though he was alone in his room, his cheeks burned out of embarrassment. “Mom! Do we have heartburn medication?!”

“It’s in the medicine closet, Wook-ah. Don’t die on me!”

Not too far away, Y/N walked up to her mother’s desk. “Mama, do you have anything for heartburn?”

The girl’s mom smirked. “What, did Cupid get you?”

“Don’t be crass. I think I’m just dehydrated.”

She sighed. “Yeah, go look in my purse. I think I have Tums in there.” Y/N thanked her mom and immediately went searching for the chewable.

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★. . description 𓂃 cupid sees the true feelings of individuals and pairs them together based on these feelings. he never makes mistakes. however, y/n is convinced cupid has accidentally shot his arrows at her and the class president, park gunwook.

★. . taglist 𓂃 @junityy @heartsswon @junnysbae @2ynjns @callanton @gh9sty @spjhyn @leehanascent @chaerybae @gyvnexe @lilacgyuvin @nanasdream @chweverni | open! (send an ask or reply to this post to be added)

★. . author’s note 𓂃 update after 22 days…rip 💔 guys i just had my act and i think i most definitely maybe sorta kinda failed 😭😭 “oh the math should be stuff you’ve done in middle school” OH WHAT THE HELL NO IT WASN’T!!!!! I’VE NEVER SEEN THAT STUFF BEFORE

© 2024 HITTOKI. All Rights Reserved. Please do not copy or steal anything I post!

[xxladymjxx]

Here's a request for you, my dear! Reader writes for the school paper and is assigned an article highlighting different school clubs. She tries to interview Eddie about Hellfire, but he just assumes she's going to mock/tease him about being a "freak who likes to play fantasy games" and is really short with her. It hurts her feelings, and when someone (Dustin? Lucas? Mike?) points out what an asshole he was, he tries to make it right.

I can't wait to read it!

xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Thank you bug! @munson-blurbs

Warnings ⚠️: Angst, language, and fluff by the end

Minors D.N.I 18+

Wc: 2.9k

°♡°

"Gotta go, I'm hungry, see you later!" Dustin departs but not before hugging you which you returned.

Trekking in the bustling hallway of your school, your peers making their way to their next classes. Upon entering the paper editing room you're met with Nancy, who had just turned to face whomever walked in, "Good morning!" she greeted you sporting a familiar grin.

"Another article set up for me? Geez, have you ever taken a break?" you joked with her, you had worked with Nancy for some time, and known her even longer, you used to help babysit her brother and his friends when they were younger. Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will who had moved to California liked you and thought you were kind and warm.

Walking toward Nancy she answers, "A writer's job is never done, and yes, I have one in mind."

"What club is this? Between you and I, we've already interviewed all of them," you were confused, was there a new club you weren't familiar with?

"Hellfire," she shrugs, "I know I haven't interviewed the head honcho, Eddie Munson. Have you?"

"No, I haven't.." you shook your head and your voice got quiet, you'd forgotten about Hellfire. You don't know how you did, Eddie is infamous in Hawkins High. His wild antics in class, the cafeteria, and even the library were well known. You weren't going to lie to yourself, his personality had intimidated you.

He wasn't unkind to you, you both had exchanged polite smiles several times passing each other in the hallway on another monotonous day of school, "W-what time do I head over?" you ask Nancy, your voice apprehensive.

Giving you a sympathetic smile she responds, "Relax, it'll be fine, you got this!" Nancy encourages you, the energy radiating off her physique, "Find Mike, Dustin, or Lucas, and they'll tell you. According to rumors, take this with a grain of salt, they're a Satanic Cult." she rolled her eyes, "The shit people come up with is ridiculous, Mike is in Hellfire, it's just a Dungeons and Dragons club."

You agreed wholeheartedly, "Leave it to a bored small town to come up with something like that when it's just a game," familiar with D&D during your time babysitting Mike the game fascinated you, "so do you have some sort of plan? What do you want me to ask?" Attempting to divert your rising anxiety you focus your brain on the task at hand.

"Ask how he formed Hellfire, what gave him the idea, what makes it different from the other clubs. Come on, you've done this before, what's got you so anxious?"

Sighing in defeat, your gaze falls to the floor beneath your feet, "That obvious, huh?"

"It's not like you hide it well," she remarks with a smirk, your shoulders slump.

"I'm hopeless," you lament with a hint of playfulness.

"You're fine the way you are," she reassures you kindly.

Gathering your notebook and pencil you give Nancy a reluctant grin, "I got this,"

Nancy lights up at your words, "Great!" she pats your forearm, "Everyone's headed to lunch, you might catch Mike or someone from Hellfire on the way. Good luck!"

"Thanks, Nance," just like that she takes off, Fred Benson following suit.

Soon after you're out the door. Scanning carefully among the crowds of students you spot a familiar figure wearing a "Thinking cap" ball cap on his head. Zig-zagging your way through the crowd, your hand makes contact with the figure's shoulder, "Dustin!" you beam.

"Hey!" he turns to face you and gives you a big hug, "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, getting through school," you shrug, "writing for the Hawkins paper," both of you move out of the way of the other students.

"How's that going?" Dustin asks, his grin not leaving his face.

"I need to interview Eddie for Hellfire, frankly I'm a little nervous,"

"That's great! We're gonna be famous!" he exclaims joyfully.

"I wouldn't go that far." you can't help but laugh at his vitality, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly, "What time do you start Hellfire?"

"After school. We usually try to wrap things up by 8:30 depending on what we're doing,"

"I-is Eddie nice?" your insecurities are rising and it's evident in your voice.

"Eddie is the best!" Dustin's grin gets wider, "He took Mike and me in when we were trying to find our place in Hawkins High! He's a great storyteller and world-builder! He even creates voices for the characters!" Dustin's admiration for Eddie seems to increase with every word that leaves his mouth, his eyes shining with respect, "The interview will go great!" Dustin's voice is the epitome of confidence.

Leaning against the wall a breath you didn't know you were holding in deflates out of your lungs like a balloon, taking your anxiety and insecurities out with it, "Thanks, Dusty, I needed that," you say with a smile, gratitude sparkling in your eyes.

"Anything for my favorite babysitter!" he playfully boops your nose.

You giggle, "You think it would be best if I wait until after Hellfire is over before I talk to him?"

"He'll be in a good mood. Post-campaign euphoria, y'know?"

Thinking back to the times the boys had finished a campaign, the victorious cries were heard from Nancys' basement, their energy infectious and journeying throughout the home, "I remember," you grin.

°♡°

The drama class door swung open, and congratulatory cheers can be heard from the confines. Mike is the first to emerge, sporting a grin that seemed to split his countenance. His dark eyes meet yours, "We won!" he addresses you with exuberance walking over to you.

"Congratulations!" The post-campaign euphoria affects you similarly; goosebumps erupt up your arms.

"I heard from Dustin, you gonna interview Eddie? Also how long were you waiting out here?" he asks, concern etched in his voice.

"Yes, and about ten minutes, not long at all, gave me time to calm my nerves,"

Mike seemed to relax slightly at your admission, "You're nervous?"

"Just a little, I'll deal," you shrug.

Dustin, Jeff, Gareth, Erica, and Gary exit the drama room. Dustin strolls over to Mike and you, "Did Mike tell you we gained a victory?"

"Eddies ready for you, head on in,"

"He informed me of your success, congratulations!" both of you high-fived, and you gave Mike one as well, not wanting to leave him out.

Dustin said.

Inhaling and exhaling a breath you say, "I'm ready,"

"We'll wait for you out here, right Mike?" Dustin faces his friend.

"Thanks, kids, you're awesome!" giving them a wink you head inside the drama classroom where the leader of Hellfire awaited you.

"Huh? Oh! Right, sure," Mike agrees.

°⁠♡°

Peering inside you see the infamous Eddie Munson, seated on his throne with an intense glare set on you.

Clearing your throat and wiping your hands on your high-waisted pencil skirt, "H-hello, how do you do," you introduce yourself in a voice that resembles a mouse.

"Eddie Munson." he snaps, his voice low and guarded.

"I'm here to interview you for the Hawkins High paper," informing him of your intentions you try your best to make your voice even and professional. Sitting down in the chair closest to him, you open your notepad and remove your pencil from your ear. Getting right down to business you ask him your first question, "What made you start Hellfire?"

"Wanted more people to play D&D with. Next question."

His short and malicious tone hit you right in the heart, the pain feeling like ice. Your breathing becomes unsteady as you write down Eddie's answer, "I-I see."

Feeling a lump form in your throat, you ask your next question, "How has," swallowing the lump in your throat, "Forming this club improved your academic performance?"

He let out a laugh that resembled a feral beast, "School sucks, it always has. Next question." More icy pain shoots up your body, stabbing your heart, and now your voice trembles writing down his answer once again,

"R-right?" letting out a weak chuckle, you agree with him.

You have one question left! You can do this!

Mentally cheering yourself on, you press forward.

"Among–"

"Cut the bullshit already." Once more he interrupts you, he seems to be in a rush to get to the bottom of the matter, the only issue is you have no idea what his problem is.

"W-what?" you stutter, blinking back tears forming, his harsh tone is like a viper biting into your flesh; the sting unrelenting.

"You're only here to make fun of the 'freak' the 'satan worshiper' AND the 'cult leader'!" he stood abruptly slamming his hand on the table, you flinch.

"I would never–"

You could only stand there frozen, stunned as his verbal assault resumed, "Well it's not going to work this time!

"I don't believe you! You're just like everyone else; judging without bothering to get to know them!" The snake's venom is seeping into your bloodstream along with the icy chill of his words. Frankly, you were taken aback, you'd no idea he thought this way about you, and you had no idea why this was hurting you so vastly.

His next words were the nail in the proverbial coffin, "You're nothing." he seethed, speaking through clenched teeth.

The venom swallowed you whole as the ice caught in your throat. Tears cascade down past your waterline like a faucet. Dropping your notepad and pencil absentmindedly you cast one last gaze into his face. His eyes were cold with malice and contempt. Making a quick turn you sprint toward the door, each step on the linoleum floor causes more ice to stab your heart.

He had called you "nothing", and you felt like it. Bringing your knees to your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself you bury your head in between your knees but it brings no solace to the void that was starting to consume you.

The door opened with a bang startling Dustin and Mike, "That was fa– Hey what happened?" Dustin noticed your tear-stained face but couldn't say anything further, you were already running down the hall with sobs escaping unbidden from your lips. With your vision fuzzy from the tears you can barely make out the sign for the girl's bathroom. Bursting inside you lean against the door sinking to the floor you weep.

°♡°

Eddie remained in the drama room, cleaning up the rest of the D&D pieces, a proud grin formed on his face, "Showed her," he murmurs.

"Eddie, what the hell happened?" Dustin makes an appearance, followed closely by Mike.

Eddie scoffs, facing the boys, "I protected us is what I did."

"How?" Mike asks, incredulously, not being able to comprehend what their Dungeon Master was saying.

"She is going to use that article to spread the rumors that Hellfire is a Satan-worshiping cult!" he asserts, picking up your notepad from the floor and tossing it onto the table, "Henderson, dispose of that."

Dustin picks up your notepad and peers at your notes or lack thereof he sees your teardrops on the paper, "No," he says firmly.

Eddie looks at Dustin, surprised that he refused his request, "And why not?"

"Because she's NOT like that!" Mike pipes up, the first to defend your honor.

Dustin nods at his best friend, "Mike's right, she'd never do something like that."

"What are you two, her knights in shining armor?" Eddie spat, he couldn't believe both of his friends weren't backing him up on this. He was one hundred percent certain you'd come to bully him, he wasn't going to take any chances, it was his job to protect his flock.

"Eddie," Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose, "what did you say to her?"

Eddie shrugged, "I told her she was nothing,"

"You mother–"

"Mike!" Dustin stopped Mike from saying something he'll most likely regret, "Eddie," he let out an exasperated sigh "She's one of the kindest people we've ever met. She babysat us when we were younger," Dustin explains, his tone serious. He's determined to let Eddie know he screwed up, "She genuinely cares about us and Dungeons and Dragons,"

Eddie slumped down on his throne, "So what you're saying is," he paused, there had to have been some merit to what they were saying if both Mike and Dustin were coming to your aid, "I screwed up?" he finishes, the realization sinking into him like a large stone into a lake.

"YES!" Dustin and Mike say in unison, the former slamming your notepad in front of Eddie's side of the table.

Your tearful expression flashed unbidden in Eddie's mind's eye; the sinking realization had finally hit him in full force. Placing his face in his hands he says, "Dammit!" his voice muffled, how could he have gotten something so wrong? Guilty bubbled in his gut, along with the fear that you won't forgive him, "I have to apologize! Right now!" he stands up in a panic grabbing your notepad, and frantically paces the room, "Where is she?" he demands the boys.

Eddie sprinted out the door in a desperate search for you.

"We don't know!" Will speaks up, "I can only guess she ran to the girl's bathroom."

°⁠♡°

Sitting on the cold, semi-dirty floor your wailing had subsided to short sobs and hiccups. How could he think so lowly of someone he had barely spoken to? You'd never imagined he'd be so cruel, callous, and so certain that you'd have malicious intent with your interview. You had a genuine interest in Dungeons & Dragons, and while you most likely wouldn't be good at it the game itself fascinated you.

Standing up on wobbly feet you stroll to one of the sinks and peer at your face. Your eyes are puffy and swollen with tear tracks down your cheeks, "Dammit," muttering to yourself, you half-heartedly wash your face the best you can. Sighing as droplets of water fall from your complexion, "What am I going to tell Nancy?"

Drying your face on the sandpaper-like paper towels you're startled by the bathroom door opening, instinctually your eyes fly to the door, surprised by the mop of frenzied curls that enter your field of vision. His remorseful, ashamed, and guilt-ridden face froze you on the spot.

"What are you–?"

"I'm so sorry!" he says between pants, as though he ran a marathon to find you, "I was wrong!"

Your face morphed into one of confusion, "Wrong about what?"

"I was wrong for assuming you'd bully me. I was wrong for not giving you a fair chance. I was wrong for being so cold to you. I was wrong about everything," he took several steps toward you until he was in front of you, "I'm sorry for making you cry…that is what I'm most ashamed of," his voice breaks, that's how you know his apology is sincere.

His words are like a panacea on your body; the frozen venom disperses. Peering into his eyes you say words he hoped to hear, "I accept your apology, Eddie Munson."

"Thank. You. Christ!" his shoulders slump in relaxation, "Oh!" he hands you your notepad, "Here, I'm sorry again,"

Gazing at the item in Eddie's hands you smile, "Thank you! And I'll accept that second apology on one condition."

"Name it and it's done."

"Can we leave? This is the girl's bathroom."

"Oh, shit!" he'd forgotten where he was, peering around he comments, "So much cleaner than the boys,"

"Okay, out!" you laugh, pushing him gently toward the door. Once you both were outside you say playfully, "You're forgiven, again,"

Eddie chuckles, "Thanks,"

"So," you hesitate, "are we friends now?" unsure of where you stand, you ask for clarification.

"Hell yeah, we're friends!" he says with conviction and no uncertainty.

"Good! That's good!" you grin.

"I want you to interview me properly this time. But before that, what was your last question?"

"My last question?"

"The one you were going to ask me before I blew up at you."

Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh that one!"

You clear your throat, "Among the people in Hellfire, who do you admire and why?"

Eddie looked taken aback; his mind drew a blank. Did he admire someone in Hellfire? He was admired, yes but did he ever feel that way for someone else? "Uh," he pauses, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay, we can answer the previous questions. The next paper doesn't come out until next week, I just like getting my work done early," Sensing his difficulty answering your question, you decide to ease his mind and give him time to think it over.

"Thank you, I'll answer your other questions at Benny's, I owe you a milkshake, my treat. I hope you don't mind a small detour I need to drive Henderson and Wheeler home," he starts to head back in the direction of the drama club, a spring in his step and humming a tune you didn't recognize.

"They are pretty cool." he agrees.

"Of course, I don't mind. Those kiddos are the best!" walking next to him, you praise the boys.

°⁠♡°

Once again you stroll the busy school hallways the next day, and you hear your name called.

"Hey!" Eddie approached with his hands behind his back.

"Hi, morning!" you greet him with a grin.

"I have the answer to your question."

"Oh? That's great! Do I need my notepad for this?" you ask, slinging your backpack off your shoulder.

"No, no this will be quick. It's you," he declares with a smile, his eyes shining with sincerity.

Your jaw drops, and your mind reels. You hadn't expected this, "What? Me?" you point to yourself.

"Yes, you, my new friend," he gazes at you fondly.

"I'm not a part of Hellfire,"

"Welcome to Hellfire."

"Not yet you're not," his arms move from behind his back, and he unveils the infamous shirt he and the rest of the club sport.

°⁠♡°

Reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💗