#weirdest I’ve ever seen him sit
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what the fuck.
#weirdest I’ve ever seen him sit#I’ve stared at this photo for hours now n I still can’t figure out his posture#he looks ai generated#albertoposting
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i’m losing my mind .
#pissed that i won’t ever be able to watch this episode for the first time again#if there are episodes i should edit let me know but also be aware that i haven’t watched the entire show i’ve only just finished s2 😭😭#anyways#THIS episode yall . holy shit#the house writers did NOT need to go off this hard .#they sit down for three episodes a season and say what if we wrote the weirdest goddamn forty - five minutes anyone’s ever seen#and it works#i like how by the end of the episode i didn’t have a clue in the fucking world what was happening#going crazy with him !!#house#house md#gregory house#greg house#houseposting#lgbt#lgbtq#save me weirdcore house episodes !!! i love you weirdcore house episodes !!!!
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Hellowww, love your writing.
I can't stop thinking about reader being tuned on by Ethan being such a nerd, like every time he says something smart or dorky she just wants to jump his bones.
a/n: since I’ve been so obsessed with the concept of my bully!reader, I decided to make her in this one. Final request that has pretty Ethan header because it consumes a lot of time and I can’t get them out quick.
not proofread
Ethan turns you on in the weirdest ways…
Ethan is always telling you some random nerdy thing that you didn’t even ask about but sometimes relates to what your speaking of, he blames his quick thinking and apologises when you mock him for it, what he doesn’t know is that… it’s attractive, in a way.
You don’t know where your fondness for nerds started, but it surely seems a lot more noticeable when he’s a sound, sure, you make fun of him and you curse him out but there’s always times that you find yourself biting down on your pen, slowly getting more interested in what he’s saying, it’s weird…
“I can’t believe his head exploded like — why would he take off his spacesuit?” You comment about a recent movie you’ve seen, completely disgusted by it, you sit down on your chair, Ethan, who’s sitting on the desk besides you, can’t help but listen it.
“You know… that’s actually not true.” He points out.
Your frown, turn to him with a scoff. “What?”
“Your head wouldn’t explode if you.. took off your suit.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It wouldn’t, it’s impossible.” He mutters. “You would just… go blind from the blood vessels in your head popping, then you’d slowly freeze and —“ he keeps speaking, your eyes go down to his lips, you can’t even remember what you were talking about in the first place. “You’d asphyxiate.”
Your lips are lightly parted, he thinks you’re confused but you aren’t, you’re just in a very.. very light transe from what he just said, eyes focused on his before he speaks up.
“S — Sorry.” He fiddles with his pen, sighing.
“Uhm…” you chuckle, almost if not believing him. “how do you… how do you even know that?”
“I… read a lot of books, google things often…” he swallows hard, nervous of your reaction.
“‘Course you do.” You mock, crossing one leg over the other. “Tell me, E, what other facts do you know?”
It’s the first time you really do seem interested in what he has to say without making fun of him and Ethan takes advantage of it, he starts rambling about some geek movie stuff, something that you quickly start ignoring once you feel heat pooling down your stomach, it’s unlike you, it’s unlike him to be seducing you — if he’s even doing so — but it just works so well, and after a matter of minutes, you’re not sure what you’re even staring at.
Somehow, Ethan notices it, this time, it’s going to be him who teases you.
“Got it?” He raises one eyebrow, tries to hide back the smirk on his face.
“Y — Yeah, totally.” You swallow. “But it was so hard to, I was getting distracted by all your geeky stuff, I mean shit’s so boring.”
Ethan chuckles, and it’s the first time he’s ever laughed at you, in your face. “For someone who’s so smart, you don’t seem to have a lot of brains when I’m talking.”
“What?”
“Just saying, you’re.. so dull when you’re talking to me.” He points out.
“The hell does that mean?”
“Nothing, I just… I just think maybe you’re not so truthful about your hate towards me…”
You scoff, as if you don’t believe him, deep down, you know he’s probably right, but you’ll deny it.
“What? You think I find you hot or something? Get a grip, nerd, I wouldn’t like you even if you were born again.” You scoff, so upset that you stand, grab your things and leave.
Ethan know he should be offended, but he really can’t be anything other than glad when he sees the look on your face as you walk away.
#ethan landry scream#ethan landry smut#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x you#ethan landry fanfiction#ethan landry fic#ethan landry x fem!reader#ethan landry fluff#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry#jack champion x reader#jack champion smut#jacob elordi x y/n#jack champion x y/n#jack champion fluff#jack champion scream#jack champion imagine#jack champion#ghostface smut#scream 6 smut#scream smut#scream 6#ghostface x y/n#ghostface x you#ghostface imagine#ghostface x reader#𝜗𝜚: ethan landry#. requests#webbluvrsugar
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think i like you best when you’re just with me, and no one else ୧ ‧₊˚
cuddling with dally | dallas winston x fem ! reader ⋆˙⟡
-
your favorite candle flickered with the scent of vanilla and pumpkin spice wafting through the air as you lay in bed, a george orwell novel in one hand and your other hand ruffling dally’s hair. your boyfriend wasn’t much of a cuddler to begin with— he would rarely even hold your hand in fear of him looking too ‘soft.’ however, today was the rare exception. dallas was awfully tired from a long day of doing god knows what, and as soon as he climbed into bed with you, he was knocked out cold. he’d always found comfort in your presence.
just as you were reaching the climax of your novel, dally let out a groan, slowly tilting his head upwards and looking into your eyes with nothing but a drowsy smirk. he sits up, adjusting his position to lay next to you with an arm around your shoulder. you rest your head on his shoulder as he presses his lips against your cheek, peering over at your book. “you’re such a bookworm, y’know?” he chuckles, reading along the words on the page.
you flip the page, scoffing in mock-offense. “i’ve never seen you touch a book before.”
“never said it was a bad thing, dollface. reading makes you look like a.. sexy librarian or sum’.” he shrugs.
you pause, taking a moment to process one of the weirdest compliments you’ve ever received in your life. “thank you..?”
“actually, i think ya look sexy doing anythin’, baby.”
dallas begins to bombard your entire face with soft, sleepy kisses as you giggle under him, trying to focus on your novel. once you finally manage to push him off you, dallas’ mouth formed a light frown.
“what, you ain’t gonna kiss me back?”
you let out a sigh of defeat. of course you couldn’t turn down a kiss from him— especially when his brown puppy-like eyes are looking down at you with all the warmth in the world. you eventually give in, planting a soft kiss against his rosy lips.
“you happy now?”
his lips quirk up into a smirk. “yeah, you keep goin’ on with your reading or whatever.”
‘kristen, come right back.. i’ve been waiting for you to slip back in bed, when you light the candle’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡
requested by @johnnycadesslut
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#𝜗�� grlsinterrupted#the outsiders#the outsiders fanfiction#the outsiders headcanons#dallas winston#dallas winston x reader#dally winston#˖˚⊹ dallas winston#𝜗𝜚 i luv u dallas winston#dallas winston imagine#the outsiders dally#dally the outsiders#dallas winston x y/n#dallas winston headcanons
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We're no good alone | S.H. & E.M.
Part two of It's just us
Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! rough smut, threesome, spanking, choking, manhandling, mentions of unrequited love and heartbreak, mentions of cheating, slight angst, fluff, happy ending
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | slight Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson
Summary: As you and Steve put your rivalry aside, you grow closer and closer and take another step forward when Steve befriends the man who once broke your heart. @mysticmunson thank you for the idea with the polaroid picture!
Word count: 14k+
Author's note: I'm not too sure about this but I didn't just write 14k words for nothing so I hope you're gonna like it
Read the prequel story about Eddie x reader here -> For me it's always you (more parts coming soon)
stranger things masterlist
Feel free to send in requests for drabbles/blurbs for this fic!
-
This has to be one of the weirdest days in your life, first you hooked up with Steve after finding out that your boyfriend had cheated on you with his girlfriend and now you are sitting at Benny’s diner, sharing fries with him and drinking vanilla milkshakes as though it’s the most normal thing for you both to do. It’s not. You hate each other’s guts, you always did. The rivalry had already started in middle school and carried on until now.
You were disgusted by everything he said and done and yet that didn’t stop you from having sex with him. You let him take out his frustrations on you and he let you too, it was merely hate fucking, that’s all. Right?
It felt good, he made you feel good. You needed it after what you had run into a few days back.
You never thought that Jonathan would do this to you, that he would hurt you like this but it seems like every guy that you want, doesn’t actually want you. It’s not the first time you have been hurt by men like him, he wasn’t the first.
He may not know it but he ripped open wounds that you had gotten before him.
Why aren’t you enough for them?
What does she have that you don’t have?
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop thinking those thoughts,” Steve sighs.
“How would you know what I’m thinking about?” You snap at him, rolling your eyes.
He chuckles, shaking his head at you, he dips his fries into the ketchup, taking his time to answer the question, he eats the fries and drinks his milkshake.
You have to admit, he looks pretty. His hair is messy from all your tugging, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are filled with.. peace? For someone who just got cheated on, he looks awfully relaxed and content.
“It’s because I’m thinking them too,” he admits, “but don’t think that you aren’t enough, y/n. You are enough.”
You brows knit together, you stare at him without saying anything.
His hazel eyes flash with something unrecognizable, he smiles a little, “anyone would be lucky to have you.”
“You’re just saying that,” you mumble as you play with your straw, “you have to say that.”
“It’s the truth. I know you hate me but I’m not lying to you,” he shrugs, clearing his throat, he looks away from you, suddenly too shy to hold eye contact, “we might not get along but you’re not that bad, you know? You’ve been a good girlfriend to him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you being annoying or mean with him, like you’re with me,” he chuckles, eyes raking over your body, “plus, you’re like really hot and pretty and way out of his league.”
A smirk tugs at your lips, his cheeks grow more red as he continues to look anywhere but at you.
“Does someone have a little crush on me?”
He rolls his eyes, “shut up, no I don’t.”
He used to have a crush on you, actually, he was pretty sure he was frozen in place the first time he saw you. 12 year old Steve was pretty sure that he was in love with the pretty girl that just moved to Hawkins after her parents decided to come back from the big city. He liked you but he sure had a funny way of showing it, instead of befriending you like he should have, he pulled at your pigtails and shoved you around.
You giggle as he glares at you. Leaning back in your seat, you look him up and down, “you’re not too bad either but I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”
He scrunches his face up in confusion, furrowing his brows, “we literally just fucked at the party and then you made me stop the car because you wanted to suck my dick.”
“That was in the past,” you say, blushing.
“That was 20 minutes ago, you let me cum inside you.”
“Well you bend me over the car.”
“Because you asked me to!”
“I like your dick, it’s really big.”
A sharp gasp makes you tear your eyes away from his, looking up, you find a middle aged lady looking at the two of you in disgust. The cross necklace around her neck clutched in her hand, she looks at you in disgust, frowning as she looks between you both.
“Sinners!” She sputters before she continues walking, glancing at you one more time with a horrified expression on her face.
You and Steve look back at each other, only being able to contain the laughter for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. His hazel eyes are filled with amusement, he puts his hand on his stomach as he leans back, “did you see her face?”
You nod, still laughing at the older lady.
“I think she’s gonna go pray for us now,” you giggle.
“It’s no use, we’re already sinners,” Steve snorts.
The ring above the door sounds through the diner, you look behind Steve’s shoulder almost instantly. Your smile falls when your eyes lock with those brown eyes. For a moment he stares at you, not moving, he just stands there and looks at you.
Steve straightens up, face growing serious when he sees the annoyance in your eyes and lingering sadness, your brows are furrowed and you glare at whoever it is that you’re looking at. As he turns around he expects it to be Jonathan but instead it’s Eddie Munson who is receiving the death stare from you.
Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. Now that he knows that you have hooked up with Eddie in the past, he can’t help but wonder what else has happened. Clearly, it wasn’t just casual hookups the way you described it earlier to him, you giggled and mentioned it as though it was nothing meaningful but that was obviously a lie.
Eddie is staring at you with his big puppy dog eyes, while you stare at him with the look that only he ever received in the past.
He tears his eyes away from you and they flash with confusion when he looks at him. Steve can imagine what kinds of questions are running through his mind right now, ‘why is she here with him?’, ‘where are Jonathan and Nancy?’, ‘why are they here together?’
It’s no secret to others that you and Steve don’t get along, the whole school knows about your rivalry.
He looks at you one more time before he finally turns away and walks towards the counter.
Steve turns back to you with a curious look on his face, your arms are crossed, your jaw is clenched and you look out the window, blinking.
“Are you… okay?” Steve asks almost skeptically.
“Don’t act like you care, Harrington,” you snap at him again, giving him the usual bratty attitude.
He sighs, rolling his eyes.
“Can you drive me home?”
“No.”
Your lips part, glaring at him, you scoff, “what do you mean no?”
Steve smirks, “say please and I’ll drive you home.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
You huff angrily, rolling your eyes. It amuses him.
“I can walk home,” you shrug. Getting up, you reach for your purse and smooth down your skirt.
“You think I’ll let you walk home?”
“Well, you said you won’t drive me home,” you counter.
“Just be nicer, jeez.”
“I’m not nice.”
He gets up as well and looks at you as he reaches for his wallet, throwing some money on the table, “did anyone ever tell you that you’re a brat?”
You feel his eyes on you and it’s making your skin crawl. You step closer to Steve, batting your eyelashes at him, “can you please drive me home, Steve?” You ask as you reach for his hand.
His lips curl into a smirk, he knows exactly why you are doing this.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
He places his hand on the small of your back and looks down at you as he leads you out of the diner, you are not looking at him but he is looking at you, with both a frown on his face and confusion. He doesn’t even notice that Steve is looking, he only pays attention to you.
You let out a loud sigh when you step out of the diner, breathing in the fresh air. Neither of you speak up, at least not until you’re back in his car.
“So.. what happened with you and Munson?” Steve asks, watching the way you tense up, “I thought it was just casual hookups.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Eddie Munson was just another boy who broke your heart. Jonathan was the one who put it back together, only to hurt it was well.
You moved on from it, at least you thought you did. Jonathan’s and Nancy’s betrayal wasn’t the only painful memories on your mind the past few days, they also brought you back to him.
Steve tilts his head as he watches you, he will find out what happened.
“So what now?”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs, getting more comfortable in his seat, he puts his hand on the steering wheel, running his hand through his hair, he looks at his own expression in the rearview mirror before turning to you.
“You do know that we’re gonna be the laughing stock of the school, right?”
You shrug, furrowing your brows you stare at him like you don’t understand the problem. You don’t care about it, you don’t care that people will laugh at you, that they will make fun of you. That is something Steve always admired about you, you just don’t give a damn about other people, you do and say whatever you want, not caring about what others will think or say.
“I don’t want that.”
You snort, “why would they laugh at you?”
Steve sighs again, eyes flashing with confusion, he brings his hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, “we dated two outcasts, two…–”
“Losers? We dated two losers?” You mumble, nodding, “yes we did, they are fucking losers for what they did.”
“Exactly! We got fucked over by losers, y/n!”
“Oh my god, Harrington, do you seriously care about what people will have to say about it? Do you think that I give a fuck? They can laugh and talk shit, I don’t care. I literally just lost my boyfriend and my best friend!” You say angrily, throwing your hands up as frustrated tears well up in your eyes, “my best friend, Steve! She was with me since we were little! I don’t even care about what he did, I’ll move on from that but her? She was supposed to be my friend.”
His eyes flash with guilt but also with sympathy. He lost her too, a girl he thought he would spend his life with but it must be so much harder for you.
“Y/n..”
“What do you want? Do you want to hurt them? Do you want us to be together so you can get back at them?” You ask, “trust me they won’t fucking care, obviously they’re like in love or something.”
You wipe your tears angrily and slump back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window, only now noticing the van parked next to you.
“Can you just drive?”
“Yeah.. sure,” he mumbles, finally starting the car. “You think they’re in love?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, rubbing your forehead, “I’m not blind, Steve. I could see the way they looked at each other, I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.”
Steve swallows harshly, eyes flashing with sadness, “oh..”
“Yeah, oh.”
He thinks about it, is he hurt by it? A little. Is he heartbroken? Not really. He doesn’t understand it, when he first caught them, he threw up and felt like crying his eyes out but now after what happened with you, he suddenly feels… okay.
The car is filled with silence aside from the music on the radio. Too many things are running through your mind as you drive through the empty streets of Hawkins but you try to focus on something else, you try to focus on the fact that you are here with Steve.
Things should feel awkward between you, especially after what happened at the party and here in his car but it doesn’t, if anything it feels natural, surprisingly. Not that you would ever admit that to yourself.
Kissing him, touching him, having sex with him felt nice. Even sharing fries and spending time with him felt nice, it makes you wonder why you ever hated him in the first place, why he hated you.
You look over at him, staring at his side profile. His chiseled jaw, the light stubble on his skin, his stupid perfect hair. Your eyes trail down to his shoulder, his arm and his hand, his veiny hands.
You lick your lips, Steve is handsome, pretty and sexy. You had never seen his beauty before, not until tonight. Suddenly you feel yourself wanting him more. Not wanting this to be a one time thing.
Nancy is an idiot.
“Steve?”
“Yes?”
“We should be friends.”
His eyes widen, he blinks a few times, lips parting and closing again.
“F-Friends?”
“Mhmm.”
He parks his car in your driveway, staring at your house for a moment, he takes a deep breath and turns to you, “friends?” He asks, pointing his finger between you and him, “you want us to be friends?”
“You literally wanted to fake a relationship–”
“Who said anything about fake?”
“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “you and I? We would never work.”
“Why not?” He shrugs.
“Uh– maybe because you hate me and I hate you?”
“I don’t hate you,” he scoffs, “I just hate that little attitude of yours, you need to be put in your place.”
A laugh falls from your lips, “yeah well, you’re not exactly brat tamer material, Steve.”
He smirks, eyes twinkling, “oh so you admit that you’re a brat?”
“No..”
He chuckles at the frown on your face, leaning closer to you, he puts his fingers under your chin, “you know what? I can be your friend but please tell me that we can do all this again.”
You bite your lip and look deeply into his eyes, “please.”
His eyes light up, he brings you closer, looking down at your lips. His nose bumps against yours as he smashes his lips against yours. You respond to the kiss with desperation, throwing your arms around his neck, you bury your hand in his hair.
He moans into the kiss, a sound that is enough to make you shiver again.
“Do you wanna come inside?” You murmur against his lips, pecking them again.
“What about your parents?” Steve asks as he continues to steal kisses from you.
“We’ll have to be quiet,” you breathe.
“Can you be quiet?” He smirks as he kisses your cheek, “wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to catch their good little girl getting ruined by Steve Harrington.”
“Shut up, can you be quiet?”
“Let’s find out.”
-
Your weekends usually consist of movie nights with Jonathan, Nancy and Steve. Getting food at Benny’s diner, sleepovers with your best friend or a shopping trip to Starcourt mall.
You expected tears of sadness and anger for this weekend but instead you got something else.
After spending the night at your place, he took you back to his house the next day. His parents weren’t home, you got the house to yourselves.
You took your frustrations out on one another, he fucked you on every surface of his house, making you forget about anything that ever hurt you. He marked you up, he kissed every inch of your body, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your chest, you gave him some in return, you worshiped him, making him feel something that she could never make him feel.
Steve fucked you like he hated you, probably because he did but you didn’t mind. You felt good and he made you forget, that’s all you wanted and needed.
You ignored Nancy’s and Jonathan’s calls, you expected them to show up at some point but it seemed as though neither of them were brave enough to actually face you, luckily. You didn’t want to see them and Steve didn’t either.
You stayed at his house for two days. Your usual movie night was different this time, Jonathan and Nancy weren’t there and thank god they weren’t. Making out with Steve and riding him on his big sofa was better than watching some stupid movie and cuddling up to your lying, cheating, partners.
You even made use of the polaroid that Steve bought but never really used before.
To say that you had fun this weekend would be an understatement.
But of course, you still hate each other.
When you walked down the hallways at school this morning, all eyes were on you and Steve. For the first time, you walked together, side by side.
It was no secret that you hated each other, you were often found bickering during class, at the cafeteria during lunch and in the hallways. But there you were, walking next to him in your cheerleader uniform, hair perfectly styled and makeup looking pretty on your face, a bright smile resting on your face as you looked up at King Steve, who gave you a cocky smile as he carried your books.
The hickeys on your neck were perfectly on display as were his.
You almost burst out laughing when people started whispering, pointing to the two of you. It was a scandal.
You and Steve had fun with it, especially when you caught the eyes of Nancy and Jonathan, who both stared at you in confusion before they disappeared in a classroom.
You enjoyed the attention and so did he, you were amused by it.
You couldn’t help but wonder what they would react like if you walked hand in hand, while stealing kisses from each other.
Maybe someday..
-
He should be paying attention to class, he really should but his mind is occupied by you. After spending a whole weekend with you, he had a sudden change of heart. His feelings had developed into something else and it confuses him.
He should be hurt, heartbroken and in agonizing pain. He should be crying and pining after the girl that he thought he loved so much but instead his thoughts are elsewhere.
Maybe you fucked the pain out of him.
He sighs, looking down at his notes, he finds the page blank, he will have to steal them from Robin again.
He looks around, eyes falling on the man that intrigues him ever since he had learned about your little affair. He tried to find out more about your past with Eddie but you always shut down, refusing to talk about it. You seemed hurt, just hearing his name made you tense up. What happened?
You seemed less hurt by Jonathan’s actions than by Eddie’s. What did he do?
“You’ll be working in pairs for this assignment, you can pick your partner.”
Steve looks around, staring at people switching seats. Then his eyes fall back on Eddie, who remains in his seat with his head down.
Grabbing his books, he gets up and walks towards him, settling in the free seat next to him, he slams the books on the table, startling the metalhead who looks up at him in confusion.
“W-What are you doing?” He mumbles, eying Steve with shock on his face, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, like he expects to be jumped by him.
Steve chuckles, “we gotta work in pairs,” he shrugs.
“I always work alone.”
“Well, today you aren’t,” Steve says.
Eddie continues to stare at him with raised brows, looking around, he almost expects someone from the basketball team to stare at him with smirks and anticipated looks on their faces as they wait for the King to pull some sort of prank but no one even looks at him.
“Okay,” he mumbles, turning back again.
“Relax buddy, I just wanna work with you.”
“Why?” Eddie mumbles grumpily.
Steve shrugs, “I just do.”
“Yeah, you expect me to believe that?”
Steve rolls his eyes, he can’t blame Eddie, he doesn’t have it easy at school but he never did anything to him, he can be an asshole but he is no bully.
“Whatever, man. Let’s just work on this assignment.”
“What’s the assignment?” Eddie asks.
Steve shrugs, “I don’t know.”
Eddie huffs, throwing his pencil on his notebook, “aren’t you trying to graduate this year?”
“Aren’t you trying to graduate again?” Steve counters as he slams his notebook open, forgetting about the pictures he had slipped in there earlier. It falls on Eddie’s lap, who looks down at it, eyes widening.
Eddie takes the picture, he stares at it in surprise. His lips part in shock. It’s a picture of someone’s boobs. It’s not a challenge to figure out who’s body this is, he had definitely seen and touched it before, he is pretty sure he has a picture of them too, somewhere.
He can’t see a face or hair in this picture, only the neck and the chest that is littered in hickeys and bite marks, a hand on the lower stomach, fingernails painted black, a pink skirt bunched up at the waist, nipple piercings.
It’s you.
His stomach drops, his eyes flash with anger and jealousy, he doesn’t want it to be you.
Steve watches him in anticipation, he might have done it on purpose, wanting to find out how the metalhead would react to it.
Eddie pushes the picture into Steve’s hand, looking up at him, “who’s that?”
The look on Eddie’s face is almost comical to Steve, his nostrils are flared, lips set in a frown as he stares at him with jealousy in his eyes. Shouldn’t he be used to it already? You’ve been dating Jonathan. Did he ever glare at him? Did he ever stare at him with anger and jealousy on his face? Steve wishes that he would have paid attention to Eddie before.
Steve chuckles in amusement. Putting the picture back into the notebook, he turns to one of the nerds, asking about the assignment.
“Harrington,” Eddie hisses, “who is it?” He asks, despite knowing the answer already. Everything about the picture just tells him that it is you, from the shape of your body to the pink skirt you have worn before.
Eddie continues bugging him throughout the whole lesson, he should be focusing on the assignment but he can’t get the picture out of his mind.
“I thought you’d be able to recognize her,” Steve says smugly, “given that you two have fucked before.”
Eddie wants to ask and say so many things but he is shocked and confused.
Steve is dating Nancy.
You are dating Jonathan.
You hate Steve Harrington, at least you always said you did, was it all just a lie?
Eddie storms out of the classroom the moment the bell rings, he rushes out into the hallway, leaving a smug looking Steve behind.
-
Skipping the last period seemed to be the best decision to make, it’s the one class you share with both Jonathan and Nancy, you don’t feel like seeing either of them, it’s been difficult enough to avoid them all day.
Sitting on the ground at the library, you’re flipping through the pages of some random book about nature, you tried reading something but your mind is just too occupied by other things, you can’t focus.
“Hey.”
You freeze at the sound of his voice. You raise your head slowly. Eddie Munson. You can’t even remember the last time you had talked to him and you wish it would have stayed that way, you don’t want to talk to him, in fact, you would even rather talk to Jonathan and Nancy, that’s how bad it is.
“What do you want?”
“Can we talk?”
“No?” You snort, rolling your eyes at him, you shake your head in disbelief, looking back down at the book, you flip to the next page, pretending to read.
He sighs, “please?”
“Fuck off, Munson,” you mumble, “you should go before someone sees you with a popular cheerleader, don’t wanna ruin your perfect reputation.”
Eddie scoffs, huffing in annoyance.
“You’re still pissed about that?”
“No, I’m just saying,” you mumble as you slam the book shut and throw it to the ground before you get up, reaching for your book, you walk into the other direction, not bothering to even look at him but Eddie has different plans. He rushes after you, moving in front of you to keep you from walking away.
All he gets is an annoyed look before you turn the other way but he is quick to push you against the bookshelf, caging you against it.
“Are you serious? Let me go!” You whisper, trying to push him away.
He shakes his head stubbornly, looking into your eyes intently.
“What the fuck do you want from me, Munson?”
“Are you still mad at me?”
Your eyes show nothing but anger but you pretend not to be, “no, I just don’t feel like talking to you.”
Eddie Munson broke your heart, hurting you with harsh words and pushing you away just when you had confessed your love for him.
“You’re fucking Harrington?” He asks, completely ignoring your answer.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the look in his eyes is one of jealousy and anger. They flicker down to your neck, staring at all the hickeys on your skin, recognition flashing in his dark eyes.
“That’s what you wanna talk to me about?” You scoff.
You really wanna keep your cool, show him that you left him behind in the past, where he belongs. You hate him. You hate him more than you hate Jonathan who cheated on you, something that you thought would rip your heart out, surprisingly it didn’t but maybe that’s because Eddie had done it for him long before.
What does he even want from you? He hasn’t spoken to you since the night he left you standing in the rain. He was the reason you started dating Jonathan in the first place, you found comfort in him when he had found you crying behind the school weeks after your fallout with Eddie, he comforted you, placed his jacket around your shoulders and asked if you wanted to listen to a tape he had just made.
Jonathan was sweet, he loved music and driving around, taking you to the movies. He did what Eddie used to do, maybe that’s why you liked him so much. He filled the hole that he had left behind.
Something about Eddie has changed, not only do you see a new tattoo peeking out of his shirt, his hair also got longer, he uses a different cologne now, he probably stopped using Wayne’s cologne or maybe Wayne changed his and Eddie is still stealing it. New pins are on his vest and he seems more mature. You know that he is still the same dork as before, still joking around with his friends like a young and careless teen, he still jumps on tables and holds speeches knowing that he will get shit for it afterwards but there is something in his eyes that had changed. A flicker of sadness and emptiness that wasn’t there before.
You haven’t been this close to him since the last year and you hate yourself for admitting that you miss him.
You always missed him. You used to feel awful for still thinking about him when Jonathan kissed you, when he touched you or even when he just held your hand, you always thought about him. The last weekend was the first time that you haven’t thought about him, not even a single moment.
Jonathan couldn’t make you forget but Steve did.
“You’re dating Byers,” he mumbles, “and you’re fucking your best friend’s boyfriend?”
So, word hasn’t gotten around yet? You’re surprised, considering you told Heather about it, not that she’s much on gossip but she tends to have a loose mouth when she’s drunk.
“And so what if I do?” You ask, tilting your head. You don’t miss the look in his eyes when he stares at your lips for a moment.
“That’s not you, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart, god you want to rip your hair out.
“And what do you know about me?” You ask, clenching your jaw angrily.
He grimaces at your question, stepping even closer to you, “I know everything about you.”
“No, you don’t,” you shake your head, “now back off.”
Eddie hesitates, what reason would he have to talk to you? What right does he have to ask you any questions? He was the one who pushed you out of his life, he was the one who rejected you, he was the one who didn’t want you. What a lie. God, you will never know how much he really wanted you, how much he still wants you.
He felt like a goddamn fool when he saw you with Jonathan Byers, knowing that he could’ve been the one by your side, if he wasn’t so scared.
He steps away and drops his arm to his sides, eyes flashing with sadness as you quickly pull away from him. His gaze follows you.
You halt in your tracks, taking a deep breath before you whirl around to face him again. You cannot stand him and his stupid puppy eyes. He looks at you as though you were the one who hurt him.
“To answer your question, no, I’m not with Jonathan anymore and I didn’t fuck my best friend’s boyfriend, she fucked mine. Steve caught them and the next day I caught them as well.”
Eddie’s eyes widen, he looks shocked and confused.
“W-What?” He mumbles in disbelief, “shit, sweetheart. I’m sorry–”
“Save it, Munson,” you scoff, looking away from him as your eyes well up with angry tears.
“Who would cheat on you..”
What is that supposed to mean? Wasn’t he the one who made you feel like you weren’t enough for him?
“Yeah and who would ever hurt me?” You ask as you plaster a smile on your face. The guilty look on his face makes you mad. “Whatever, I seem to be going for the wrong guys all the time.”
He whispers your name.
“But that’s fine, I guess I learnt my lesson,” you shrugs, “I should look for ones that are just as stuck up and boring as me, huh?”
He looks down, feeling ashamed of the words he used to hurt you.
You leave after a moment, storming out of the library. You want to leave him behind just like you want to leave Nancy and Jonathan behind.
But it turns out to be a challenge. You and Steve continue your newly found friendship. Weeks go by and after a few confrontations with your ex partners, they finally leave you alone. You no longer want to resume your friendship with Nancy, she cried and apologized to you, telling you that she didn’t want to lose you but she didn’t do much to prove it, especially when she just started dating your ex boyfriend.
Moving on will never be easy but you have him now. You and Steve still fight, you still use every opportunity to piss him off and in return, he does the same. You love making each other mad, you love heated arguments, ones that lead to sex.
You sneak out of class just to make out with him in the bathroom. Every time he throws you a note, you can feel his excited eyes on you but also the one’s of Eddie, who seemed to be interested to make a comeback in your life.
Not that you will ever let him.
You are focused on other things. Cheer practice, studying, girls nights with friends from the cheer squad and most importantly spending time with King Steve.
You found comfort in each other, maybe you were just no good alone but you like being around him. What starts off with a weird friendship with your enemy ends up developing into something bigger. A few months back you couldn’t even stand being around each other for longer than 10 minutes, now you can’t be without each other. Steve is surprisingly a really clingy guy and you don’t mind it.
After using your parents money to book a vacation, you spend your spring break on the east coast, using fake IDs to buy drinks and using Mr. Harrington’s credit card to rent a yacht. You both have wealthy parents, might as well use their money to have fun.
When Steve had suggested going on that trip, you didn’t expect to come back as his girlfriend but you did and for some insane reason, you love it.
A part of you still struggles to trust his intentions but you still agreed on becoming his.
What’s more insane is the fact that Steve had somehow befriended Eddie. Out of all people he could’ve started a friendship with, it of course had to be the guy that broke your heart. Apparently they had worked on an assignment together and ‘hit it off’. You should be pissed but he doesn’t really know what happened with you and him and you cannot blame him for liking him, Eddie is.. amazing. And Steve deserves to have more friends.
After cutting off Tommy a while back, Steve only really had Nancy, Jonathan and well you. Robin Buckley was one of his friends as well but they only ever hung out at work together, only having brief conversations at school.
For two months, he followed you around like a lost puppy after the breakup with Nancy. Spending lunch with you and your cheer squad instead of hanging out with the guys from the basketball team, why? You will never know, maybe it had something to do with his dislike for Jason Carver or Billy Hargrove but Steve preferred to stick to your side, that is until he and Eddie became friends.
You are not sure which one of them is playing a game though, is it Eddie who uses your boyfriend to sneak his way back into your life? Or is it your boyfriend himself, who is trying to test you to see if there are any remaining feelings left for his new friend?
You did tell him a little about your past but you didn’t want to give away too much, not wanting to admit that he hurt you as much as he did. Steve isn’t stupid though, it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out that what you felt for Eddie was deeper than you wanted to admit.
It also really wasn’t a challenge to figure out that you started dating Jonathan in hopes that he could be like him.
Maybe, he should feel insecure, feel scared and worried that he might lose you to another man just like he lost Nancy but your feelings for him are genuine, even when your mind keeps taking you back to the other man. He can see it in your eyes, though you still act stubborn at times and pretend that he doesn’t mean that much to you, he knows it’s all just an act.
You love Steve in a way Nancy couldn’t and he loves you in a way Jonathan couldn’t.
But there is also someone else that loves you and despite his jealous nature, Steve doesn’t mind it, as odd as it is.
The more time he spends with him, the more he finds a liking towards Eddie, much to your demise. You don’t mind it, you just hate being around him.
It’s been easy to ignore him and his puppy dog eyes at first but once he realized that he is not getting any of your attention, he suddenly became a menace. He went from being apologetic to annoying, real quick.
He uses every opportunity to tease you, making sly comments and trying to flirt with you and Steve doesn’t even seem to mind, if anything, he finds it amusing. Watching his new friend getting on your nerves and getting the treatment from you that only he usually gets.
You should be mad at Steve for letting Eddie treat you like this but you can’t, not when you like it deep down.
Eddie stole the spot that used to belong to Steve, now he is your annoying 'enemy'.
Wherever Steve goes, Eddie goes. Just like tonight.
A date night with your boyfriend turns into one with Eddie as well.
Sitting on Steve’s lap, you play with his hair, occasionally turning to look at the other man in the room, who smokes his blunt and drinks his beer as he talks to Steve about his stupid band that you used to love.
Steve’s large hand is resting on your hip, playing with the soft material of your skirt as he nods along to Eddie’s words.
“Babe,” you cut Eddie off, not even sparing him a glance as you look at your boyfriend, “are you ever gonna order that pizza?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, “I’m getting hungry and bored.”
Steve sighs, “don’t be rude, he was talking.”
“Who?” You feign, giving him a confused look. Smiling in satisfaction when you hear Eddie mumbling something under his breath.
You smile at him as you lean in to kiss his neck. He takes in a sharp breath, hand gripping your hip tighter causing your skirt to ride up a little. He can’t help but look over at Eddie to see his reaction, just as expected, Eddie is staring at you with such intensity in his eyes that it makes Steve shiver.
“Baby,” he warns but you don’t listen. You never do.
Eddie is both jealous and angry, though he admires the view, staring at your exposed skin as Steve touches your hip.
Steve raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak but before he can even form a word, you smash your lips against his, kissing him roughly.
His eyes widen in surprise but he can’t even stop the moan from falling. You throw your leg over his lap and straddle him, placing your hands on his neck and deepen the kiss as your tongue meets his.
Eddie swallows harshly, placing his blunt down, he tightens his grip on the bottle. His jaw clenches and his eyes flash with anger and jealousy. You are doing this on purpose, to taunt him.
He likes Steve but right now, he hates him for being able to touch and kiss you like this, wishing it was him instead. He leans back against the sofa, eyes trailing down to your ass that Steve is squeezing roughly as he starts making out with you. Your skirt rides up further, exposing the black thong that you’re wearing. You’re rolling your hips, grinding against your boyfriend as you moan into his mouth.
Eddie clenches his hand into a fist, tensing up, he shifts around, uncomfortably, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper a small ‘please’.
He would love nothing more than to be in Steve’s place right now. To hold you and kiss you.
Steve pulls away with a groan, “behave yourself.”
A giggle leaves your lips and after pecking his lips one more time, you pull away and settle back on the couch, smirking at the bulge in your boyfriend’s jeans.
He blushes, running his fingers through his hair, he gets up, trying to hide the obvious tent in his pants, “I’m gonna order the pizza,” he mumbles as he rushes out of the living room without looking at Eddie.
You look at the tv for a moment before your eyes find Eddie’s. He is glaring at you. You smile in satisfaction, raising your hand, you look at your freshly manicured fingernails as you begin to hum some song.
Eddie is seething, this is not the first time you had kissed Steve in front of him but usually it was nothing more than a peck.
He scoffs as he raises the bottle to his lips. Right now, he can’t stand you.
He can’t stand the way you look so pretty, the way you sit there looking so innocent after what you just did. He hates the way the room smells like your sweet perfume despite the lingering smoke in the air. He hates the way you hate him.
He reaches for the blunt, placing it between his lips, he lights it up with the lighter that Steve threw on the table earlier.
You look at him, tilting your head, “what’s wrong?” You ask him sweetly.
He screws up his face, shrugging, “nothing.”
You get up and his eyes widen when you walk towards him. He stares at the way your skirt hugs your body perfectly, the way your top slides up your stomach a little, exposing some of your skin, you’re not wearing a bra, he can see your nipple piercings. You lick your puffy lips and lean down in front of him, placing your hand on his knee, you reach for the blunt between his lips.
He gulps, eyes growing wider and breath hitching in his throat. He licks his lips, staring into your eyes as you inhale the smoke.
Eddie can’t even help it, he leans closer to you, placing his hand over yours, his fingertips trace your skin.
You look down for a second, staring at his hand and at his rings, your gaze softens for a moment and then you look back into his eyes.
He whispers your name, you blink, eyes falling down to his lips.
But it all just lasts for a second before you place the blunt back between his lips and walk away from him. Sitting back down on the sofa and looking away with a clenched jaw.
“Sweetheart–”
“Don’t.”
Steve walks back into the room, sensing the tension right away. He looks between the two of you, noticing the anger in your eyes and the longing in his.
He sighs, trying to lighten the mood, he smiles at you, “pizza is on the way,” he says as he settles back next to you, “you wanna watch Halloween now?”
“Sure..”
-
The graduation party is finally over, you no longer have to listen to the awful pop music, red solo cups are all over the place. Steve’s house is a mess. You’re both lucky that his parents aren’t home until the end of next week.
The night started off well, you got ready in his bathroom, had a few drinks before the party even started and made out with him on one of the pool loungers before the guest started coming in.
Now you’re seething, rolling your eyes at him and scoffing at whatever he is saying as you’re cleaning up the mess. It’s silly, you have to admit and you know you’re acting like a brat for no reason but getting the piss out of him will just always be your thing.
You’re proud of him, you really are. He made it, he graduated, got his diploma and he is free to do whatever he wants now. He doesn’t have to go back to high school, he doesn’t have to see Nancy or Jonathan again. You’re just so scared that he will leave you behind, walk away from you and pretend like you were never a part of his life.
Maybe you are overthinking it, maybe you are just hurt from the men before or maybe you are simply broken.
But right now, you’re angry, especially after seeing one of the girls trying to flirt with him. He didn’t pay her any mind, he didn’t even smile at her or react to the way she was eying him up and down, he politely rejected her and pushed her hand off of his arm and yet it pissed you off, why did he let her get this close in the first place?
“Asshole.”
“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs as he watches you rush past him.
“You heard me!” You snap at him as you slam the door open and walk towards the counter, slamming your red solo cups down, you turn around and open the fridge, getting yourself a cold coke.
“Why am I an asshole?” He asks with a confused and angry face, closing the door to the luckily empty kitchen.
“You let that bitch touch you!” You yell as you close the fridge, glaring at your boyfriend.
Steve knows that this isn’t the only thing that caused this sudden outburst, you have been acting weird and sensitive for the past few weeks.
“Honey,” he mumbles as he takes a deep breath, putting his hands together he walks towards you, “I pushed her hand off, I didn’t even talk to her!”
You clench your jaw, tearing your gaze away from him, you sigh angrily, “yes, you did.”
Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knows that you won’t just drop it, you’re gonna mop around and continue trying to get on his nerves.
“Jesus, I didn’t.”
You stare at him with fire in your eyes. Oh, you’re mad, mad. He knows that there is more behind your anger, it’s not just about that girl, you’re not even the jealous type or maybe you are, maybe you were just too good at hiding it before.
Steve shakes his head, walking towards you, he tries to reach out for you but you push his hands away, “just go to your new girlfriend, you seemed to like staring at her fucking tits.”
You both know that he wasn’t staring at her tits, in fact, he wasn’t staring at her at all. He looked uncomfortable and glanced at you, reaching for your hand, he pulled you in and placed his hand on the small of your back, you were there the whole time. He wasn’t staring, he wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t doing anything.
“Jesus christ,” he sighs in annoyance, rolling his eyes, “are you really starting this again?”
“Starting what?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest.
Steve’s eyes fall to your chest, staring at your tits.
“Starting some stupid fight just so I will fuck your brains out.”
You tilt your head, scoffing, “why would I want you to fuck me?” You ask him, as though he isn’t your boyfriend, as though you don’t beg for his touches, as though you aren’t obsessed with him.
“Oh, so you’re gonna act like you’re not obsessed with me?”
You scoff, giving him a disapproving look, “trust me, I’m not obsessed with you.”
He rolls his eyes at your words, stepping closer to you, “you’re such a brat,” he says as he places his hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling.
“You’re the brat, Harrington.”
He looks back down at you with darkened eyes. The pout on your face is cute but the mischief in your eyes irritates him.
“What do you want, honey?”
You shrug, biting your lip, you eye him up and down. Grabbing him by his belt, you pull him closer to you. Instantly, his hands reach for your waist and he pulls you flush against him. Standing on your tippy toes, you lean in and give him a kiss, “I want you to stop being a dick.”
He looks into your eyes and raises his brows, he grabs your jaw, “oh, I’m a dick now?”
“Mhmm, yes you are,” you nod, “you’re a dick, Steve Harrington.”
“And you’re kind of a bitch, honey.”
“No, I’m not. You’re just a real asshole.”
“You always need the last word, don’t you?”
You nod, “you know me.”
He shakes his head, tracing your bottom lip, he looks deeply into your eyes, “tell me, what’s your actual problem? Be honest with me.”
You hesitate. You’re scared of something, he can see it in your eyes. That fear has been there for some weeks now.
Your relationship was just two months old, things were still new for the two of you. You went from disliking each other to loving each other, sure, it was weird for you but not for him. Once he touched you for the first time, he easily grew addicted to you and he found himself wondering why he never went after you instead of Nancy, in the first place.
“You’re leaving me,” you say with fear in your eyes and anger in your voice.
He frowns at your words, staring at you in confusion, “huh?”
“You’re leaving me,” you repeat yourself as you cross your arms over your chest again, pouting at him like a pissed off brat, “you’re leaving me alone with all these assholes.”
Just as you and Steve finally found your way to each other, his time at school is over while you stay for one more year, you are not ready to let him go.
“Oh,” he mumbles, finally understanding what you are talking about, he rolls his eyes at your words and sighs, “I’m not leaving you, honey. I only graduated and the last time I checked, you’re the one who’s leaving me next year, while you go off to college, I’ll stay here and wait for you.”
You squint your eyes at him, “are you?” You counter, tilting your head up, “are you waiting for me or are you gonna find someone else to fuck?”
He scoffs at you, glaring into your eyes, “fuck? Is that all we’re doing here? Fucking?”
You shrug. Maybe. The anxiety of him wanting to do this just to get back at her still lingers.
“Oh my god,” he murmurs, staring at you in disbelief, “baby, you’re my girl. I want you, no one else.”
Your heart flutters at his words, taking the tension off your shoulders a little but you aren’t done yet.
“What about Nancy? Do you still want her?”
He doesn’t understand where this is all coming from, he shakes his head, eyes widening, “no!” He cups your cheeks, “I don’t! Why would I still want her? I want you, only you even though you’re a fucking brat and you get on my nerves all the damn time but fuck, you’re it for me.”
If your past selves could see the two of you now, they would be mortified.
You believe him, you really do. You want to kiss him and hug him, lay your head on his chest and apologize but still, you roll your eyes and look away.
You look away from his hazel eyes, staring at your manicured nails, you shrug, a small sigh leaving your lips.
Steve’s shoulders slump, he loves you but you are so irritating sometimes.
“Trouble in paradise?”
Looking over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie standing there with a smug look on his face. He walks towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You drop your arms to your sides and step away from your boyfriend, sighing in annoyance.
Right, you forgot that your boyfriend’s boyfriend is still here.
Steve looks intrigued, he wants to see what will happen if Eddie takes his teasing a little further.
You cross your arms over your chest and turn away from both men but Eddie grabs your arm, holding you back, he steps in front of you, “where are you going, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
You furrow your brows, glaring at him, “away from you.”
He coos at you, pouting at your words, “I see, nothing changed. You’re still a fucking brat.”
You scoff at his words, slapping his hand off of you, you clench your jaw in anger. How dare he touch you?
His dark eyes stare into yours, he leans closer, eying your lips for a moment, “poor King Steve doesn’t know how to handle you, huh? He doesn’t know how to put you in your place?” He asks as he reaches his hand out to touch your face, caressing your cheek softly. “He can’t do it like I can, right?”
You blink as you stare into his eyes, shivering at the feeling of his touch and at the sound of his voice. Your knees grow a little weak and you hate the way your stomach flutters at his words. Your boyfriend is standing there, right behind you, watching the scene unfold.
Why isn’t he saying anything?
You scoff, rolling your eyes, you turn away from him as you start blushing because of him, “whatever.”
Steve gasps, eyes widening in disbelief. That’s all you have to say? Whatever? You sure have a lot to say to him whenever you both bicker.
Eddie chuckles as he eyes you up and down, “you wanna be put in your place, huh?”
Eddie wouldn’t say all this to you if there wasn’t so much tension already, the past few weeks have led up to this exact moment.
You don’t say anything, just growing more flustered, not looking into Eddie’s or Steve’s eyes.
Eddie’s smirk widens, he looks over your shoulder, staring at Steve who shakes his head as a small chuckle falls from his lips.
“Do it.”
Your lips part and your eyes widen, you turn around, staring at your boyfriend in shock.
“Put her in her place,” he murmurs as he reaches for your waist, pulling you into him, “tame the fucking brat.”
You gasp at his words, “S-Steve?”
He chuckles, grasping your face in his large hands, he pulls you closer to kiss your lips, “that’s what you want, right?”
You gulp nervously, blinking. You hesitate and take a deep breath.
“N-No..”
He smirks, looking into your lust filled eyes, “come on, don’t lie to me.”
He pulls you tighter against him, squeezing your waist as he steals another soft kiss from you, “it’s okay, it’s just Eddie.”
Eddie, the only man he is willing to share you with.
You can always say no, he makes sure you know that. You can back down but do you want to?
You tear your eyes away from your boyfriend and turn around to face the man you have been avoiding, your eyes lock with his beautiful ones.
No, you don’t want to back down.
Eddie already knows your answer before even asking that question but he grabs your hand and pulls you closer, “do you want it?” he whispers as he brings his hand up to your face, grabbing your chin.
“Yes.” It comes out as a mere whisper, a nervous one.
Eddie smirks and Steve does too but you can’t see him. The man in front of you looks like he had just won the lottery, his eyes light up and he looks happier than he has ever felt before. He grabs your waist and without wasting another moment, he pulls you flush against him and slams his lips against yours.
For the first time in over a year, you finally feel his touch again, his kiss.
He is desperate in the way he kisses you, not caring about your boyfriend who watches it all unfold with awe in his eyes, he doesn’t care about anything but you. He finally has you back in his arms, even if it’s just for this moment. His hands are so delicate on your skin, his lips move so roughly against yours, he savors every second in which you kiss him back.
He doesn’t know whether to smile or to cry but he leaves the latter for when this night is over, now he enjoys it.
A moan, a whine and a desperate whimper from you, and both men that you have wrapped around your finger are rock hard. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue meets yours and he groans in pleasure when you bury your hands in his hair, tugging at his dark curls.
God, he missed you so much. His heart, his life felt so empty without you. He wants to kiss you softly, he wants to make love to you and show you how much he misses you but he can’t. You are not his, you will never be his and even when Steve is okay with this, he knows that it’s only just a one time thing, it’s just for sex, for rough sex.
Your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, forcing you to break the kiss with Eddie, you whine at that action, chasing after his lips. He chuckles darkly, leaning down, he presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing you and nipping at your skin as he pulls the strap of your top down, “you want him, honey?”
Your eyelashes flutter, your lips part and you stare into Eddie’s eyes, watching the way he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, the way he did before but there is more now, something you can’t or don’t want to read because it will make you sad.
Steve’s lips are soft, making your heart and stomach flutter, “it’s okay, you can have him if you want,” he murmurs, “I don’t mind.”
You have questions, so many of them but you don’t bother to speak them out now, instead you find yourself nodding, “I want you both.”
Eddie smirks, eyes lighting up.
“Oh yeah?” Steve whispers, “you want him to fuck the brat out of you, baby?”
“Mhmm.”
Steve leads you and Eddie upstairs and into his room, he holds your hand while you hold Eddie’s, looking back at him to catch him staring at your ass, watching your skirt move back and forth as you walk up the stairs. He licks his lips before he raises his head to look into your eyes.
The moment you step into your boyfriend’s room, you suddenly feel nervous but also intrigued. Steve locks the door and then he walks you over to his bed, pushing you down, he grabs your chin and caresses your cheek, smirking at you and leaning down to peck your lips before he steps away, “you’re awfully quiet, honey. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
Rolling your eyes at him, you scoff.
Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “Munson, come here.”
Eddie walks over to him, glancing at him, Steve smirks, “she’s all yours.”
You stare at your boyfriend, almost in shock. There have been moments where he got jealous whenever men just looked at you, here he is, giving you away to his friend like it means nothing to him. Which, you don’t actually mind because it’s Eddie. Yet, you glare at him.
“What’s wrong?” He laughs, “you wanted to be tamed and I’m not exactly brat tamer material, isn’t that what you said?”
Eddie looks amused by Steve’s words, he chuckles to himself as he looks at you.
“And don’t act like you don’t think about him, we both know you do,” Steve murmurs as he sits down beside you, bringing his hand up to your face, he cradles your cheek, you still glare at him just like before but now you look flustered, clearly not wanting Eddie to know that you still think about him, “look at him.”
You blink, shaking your head a little.
Steve’s hazel eyes flicker with mischief, lips curling up into a smirk, “you don’t want him to know that you still think about him?”
“Steve.”
He ignores you, “you don’t want him to know that you dream of him?” He asks as he kisses your cheek softly before he turns your head towards Eddie, forcing you to look at him, “I heard you whispering his name the other night, you know?”
Eddie’s lips part in surprise.
You grow flustered, both men notice the way you squeeze your thighs together.
“Is that so, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks as he steps towards you.
You look at him through your lashes, ignoring the way he makes you feel just by looking at you with his hungry eyes.
Steve lets go of you as Eddie places his fingers under your chin, “you dream about me, huh?”
You scoff and roll your eyes, “you wish,” you mumble in annoyance, “I haven’t thought about you in a long time.”
So you still wanna act like you hate him? Eddie shakes his head, laughing, “a few days is what you call a long time?”
“Not a few days, a whole year.”
He raises his brows, “a whole year, huh?” He asks in amusement, “that’s when you started dating Byers.”
You press your lips together, frowning at him and at your boyfriend who chuckles yet again.
“He didn’t satisfy you enough? You still thought about me?”
“Shut up,” you mumble as you raise your hand and slap his hand away.
His eyes darken and he looks at you in a way that would leave your past self shivering but you are not the girl that you used to be, you are not the fool that was once in love with him, at least that’s what you are telling yourself.
“Are you gonna fuck me or what?”
“You’re a depraved little slut, you know that right?”
You shrug, licking your lips as you feel yourself getting wet at his words.
“You’re sitting here next to your boyfriend, asking another man to fuck you,” Eddie smirks.
“It was his idea,” you shrug, ignoring Steve’s chuckle, “maybe he wants you to fuck him too, maybe he’s a depraved slut as well, just like you Eddie.”
Eddie raises his brows, tilting his head at you as he kneels down in front of you, his gentle hands grasping your ankles, he takes your shoes off slowly.
“Me?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, “I wasn’t enough for you, you wanted to fuck other girls, not just one other girl, you wanted all of them, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t want me anymore. So, who are you calling a depraved slut? You are the biggest of them all.”
Steve glances at Eddie, noticing the regret in his eyes.
Eddie didn’t want anyone else but you, he didn’t want any other girl, he just wanted you. The things he said to you were nothing but lies, to make you leave, for your own sake.
The tone in your voice is masked with anger but the pain is still lingering.
“You’re an asshole,” you say as you look deeply into his eyes, “I hate you.”
Eddie clenches his jaw, maybe his heart would hurt if he didn’t see the softness in your eyes, you don’t hate him.
“And you’re a fucking brat. A very mean brat.”
He gets back up after taking your shoes off, he puts his hand around your throat, watching the way your eyes widen and flash with lust, you always loved this.
“I bet you’ve been acting like this on purpose, huh? You wanted him to put you in your place?”
You blink, breathing faster as you look up at Eddie, well aware that Steve is staring at you with a smirk on his face.
“Answer me,” Eddie orders.
“Yes,” you whisper.
“Yes, what?”
“I’ve been doing it on purpose,” you admit, your cheeks growing hot at your own words, “I wanted him to put me in my place.”
Steve gapes at you, you never ever admit anything like this to him, you never give in, you never let him hear what he wants to hear. You only ever stop acting like a brat after he makes you cum a few times.
You bite your lip, eyes raking over Eddie’s arm, the bracelet around his wrist, the tattoos on his arm, his shoulders that got broader. His hand around your neck, he pulls you up, forcing you to stand in front of him.
He brings you closer until his nose bumps against yours, “poor Steve doesn’t know how to tame the brat, huh?” He whispers against your lips as his eyes remain locked with yours, “it’s okay, that’s what you have me for.”
He kisses you softly, one last time before he rips your top off, throwing it on the ground along with your bra, taking a moment to admire your naked chest, touching your boobs and giving them both a squeeze before he turns you around and shoves you down on Steve’s bed, in front of him.
A whimper leaves your mouth when Eddie reaches for your hips and pulls your ass up, using both hands to tear the skirt into shreds, he rips it off and throws it on the ground.
Steve’s eyes widen in surprise as do yours, you gasp, calling his name loudly.
“What?” Eddie chuckles, “your rich boyfriend can buy you ten more of those, right?” He asks before his palm meets your ass roughly, a loud smack! echoing through the room, followed by a whiny moan.
Steve’s eyes darken and he looks down at you to make sure that you’re okay, pushing your hair out of your face, he caresses your cheek.
“Don’t worry, Harrington. She loves it even rougher,” Eddie murmurs as he smacks your other asscheek, “isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
You moan, nodding desperately as you bite your lip.
He chuckles as he watches you arching your back, your light pink thong is soaked already and Eddie can’t help but moan at the sight of it, he teases you, bringing his fingers up to your pussy, “who are you so wet for? Me or Steve?”
Your boyfriend touches your bottom lip with his thumb, smirking when you look at him with pleading eyes.
You hear Eddie shuffling around behind you, taking his belt off, you already know what he’s about to do and it only makes you feel more desperate.
“Me or Steve?” He asks again, with more anger in his voice.
“Answer him, honey.”
You don’t.
You want him to take it further.
Suddenly you jolt forward and a cry falls from your lips as you feel the leather smacking against your ass, tears well up in your eyes.
“Dude!”
Eddie chuckles at the shocked and angry look on Steve’s face, his body tenses up and he looks down at you with worry in his eyes.
“M-More..”
Steve’s eyes widen, shock ripples through him. He always knew that you were kinky, that you like it rough but not this rough.
“Please.”
“You see that, Steve?” Eddie murmurs as he raises his hand, using the belt to spank you again. The bulge in his pants is growing, his dick twitches at the sound of your moan, at the sight of your half naked body, “she loves it.”
“You’re so fucking dirty, honey.”
“Yes, she is,” Eddie groans.
He spanks you, again and again. And even after he is done, you are still begging for more, despite knowing that your ass will hurt. Steve watches in awe and disbelief, no snarky words or comments leave your mouth, just desperate moans and whimpers.
He swallows, your hand resting on his knee, squeezing it tightly as Eddie takes your ruined panties off and throws them at him, chuckling when he catches them and sniffs at them.
“Perv,” you mumble as you look up at Steve with a smirk on your face.
Eddie reaches for your waist, grabbing you tightly as he manhandles you on your back, he catches the surprised look on your face. Eddie takes his shirt off and throws it to the ground.
For a moment, he lets himself admire you. It’s been too long since he had seen you like this. Your bare body, your soft skin, your pretty hair laying on your naked shoulders, your eyes looking into his with desperation, with a softened gaze he hasn’t seen in so long.
You eye him up and down, you want him just like he wants you. You squeeze your thighs together, sighing when Steve starts playing with your hair, “you look so beautiful, honey.”
“Yes you do,” Eddie whispers, he leans over you, taking the black scrunchie off of your wrist, he uses it to tie his hair back, “you are the prettiest girl.”
Your heart flutters but at the same time, it hurts.
You roll your eyes at his words, clearly not believing a word he says.
“Shut up, Eddie.”
Steve chuckles at your words, while Eddie scoffs, shaking his head as he kneels down in front of the bed, he grabs you, pulling you closer, harshly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and begins to nip at your inner thighs roughly, kissing and biting your skin before he finally tastes you again.
His eyes flutter closed and he moans against you as he grabs your hips tighter than before, slipping his tongue into your wet pussy.
You moan loudly, reaching into his hair, you pull at it.
“F-Fuck!”
Eddie starts to eat you out, more intensely, more desperately than ever before. He needs you, he needs to feel you in every way possible. He grabs your ass harshly, squeezing your sensitive skin as he devours you.
You arch your back in pleasure, feeling his tongue plunging deeper inside of you. You look down at him, eyes locking with his, you allow yourself to look at him, only for one moment before your eyes roll back and you shut them.
You moan even louder than before when you feel Steve’s lips on your neck, his hands on your boobs, squeezing and grabbing them roughly as his fingers toy with your pierced nipples.
Eddie’s nose bumps against your clit as he shakes his head against you, licking and eating you out like a man starved. He shows you how desperate he is to touch you again.
So much pleasure runs through your body, the feeling is euphoric.
“Feeling good, honey?”
“Mhmm, so good,” you whimper.
Steve smirks, he leans down to kiss your lips as he twists and tugs your nipple. You shut your thighs, caging Eddie in and he only moans in response. He licks a stripe up your pussy and begins to flick his tongue on your clit as he pushes a finger inside of you.
“I missed your sweet pussy, baby.”
Not wanting to hear any of his praises, you pull his hair harsher than before as you make out with Steve.
Eddie groans, using his free hand to push your hand out of his hair, he slams it against the mattress and intertwines his fingers with yours, holding it against the bed.
That is too intimate for you, you don’t hold hands with people you don’t love, Eddie doesn’t love you.
“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you, kissing your clit teasingly, he glances at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, your free hand in your boyfriend's hair as you kiss him.
His chest is filled with jealousy, you’re gentle with him, you’re soft with Steve, loving. That’s something he will never get again and it breaks his heart.
Eddie doesn’t stop after making you cum, he only keeps going. Fucking you with his fingers, keeping the rings on because he knows how much you used to love it. He covers your thighs in hickeys, smacking your soaked cunt when you call him names. Eddie is rough with you, he devours you for both yours and his pleasure and he enjoys knowing that not even Steve can make you feel like this.
He loves knowing that he watches you two, that he sees the way you yearn for him, the way you moan for him.
Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your voice sounds like music to his ears, it makes his heart flutter in his chest.
He only stops when he feels like he might cum before he even gets to be inside of you.
He pulls away and admires the view, watching the way you are shaking, the way your cunt flutters, glistening from your juices and his spit. Your thighs are covered in hickeys, fingerprints on your hips.
Steve is being too soft with you, he caresses your cheek and whispers praises into your ear, as though he wasn’t the one suggesting this. Growing annoyed with the sight of it, he finally takes the rest of his clothes off and flips you over on your stomach again.
“Sit your ass down, Harrington,” Eddie orders, gesturing to the chair in the corner, “watch and learn.”
Steve raises his brows in surprise, his cheeks grow red and it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him or you. You look smug and it only makes Steve blush harder, he rolls his eyes at you as he does what the other man told him to do.
You lick your lips, eying the bulge in Steve’s pants, “take your cock out, Stevie,” you whine, “please.”
Eddie chuckles behind you, you feel the bed dip under you. You swallow nervously, stomach growing tighter at the feeling of his hands on your hips, “listen to your girl, Steve.”
Steve blinks, nodding at his words, “f-fuck.. yeah, yeah..” He stammers, unbuckling his belt hastily, he pushes his pants out just enough to take his dick out.
You moan while Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of Steve’s dick, “holy shit, man.”
Your boyfriend looks smug, smirking as he looks at the two of you.
“Yeah, he is so much bigger than you, Eddie,” you tease, looking over your shoulder with a smirk on your face, “makes me feel better too.”
He glares, holding your hips tighter, “oh yeah?” He murmurs as he takes his hard cock and slips it through your wet folds until it touches your sensitive clit.
“Ah– shit,” you whimper.
“Touch yourself, Steve. Look at her, watch how I ruin your pretty little girlfriend, I’m gonna make her mine again.”
You shake your head in response, wanting to protest but only whimpers leave your mouth when he pushes inside of you, splitting you open. You’re too sensitive, too overwhelmed, too weak already. Unable to hold yourself up, you fall down against the pillows.
“Forget it,” Steve growls as he fists his cock, keeping his eyes on you, “she’s mine forever.”
Eddie chuckles darkly, watching how you struggle to hold yourself up, you whine and moan.
“We’ll see.”
He pushes in deeper, placing both hands on your asscheeks, he spreads them, watching how your wet pussy takes his cock. He moans loudly, eyes fluttering closed, he can’t even help but grin when he feels your walls clenching around him at the sound of his moans.
“E-Eddie,” you whine into the pillow, gripping the bed sheets tightly, “I-I… please.”
He dreamed of this moment, he thought about you day and night while you were apart, he missed this, he missed the feeling of being inside you, of feeling your warm pussy around him, of hearing your moans, he just missed you so much.
“Please what?”
You are drooling all over the pillow, your eyes well up with tears and you can’t stop the whines and moans from escaping.
“Please move, please sir.”
“Good girl,” Eddie grunts as he squeezes your ass, he pulls out completely before he slams back inside of you roughly with a loud moan.
“Ah– f-fuck.. your cock feels so good,” you cry out.
“Oh yeah?” He breathes as he reaches for your hair, tugging at it to raise your head up to make you look at him. Eddie starts thrusting, rougher and rougher. “Look at him, baby.”
Steve jerks off and fuck, he looks so good. He moans loudly, biting his lip as he moves his fist faster.
“Your pussy feels so perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, “so tight and wet for me.”
“D-Don’t stop,” you whimper, “please don’t stop.”
Your juices are slipping down your thighs, your pussy gets tighter around his cock, you feel filthy, especially when you hear the squelching sounds of your pussy as Eddie pounds you into the mattress.
The room is filled with moans and whimpers. Tears are running down your cheeks, your body is already shaking, your next orgasm approaching. The coil in your stomach tightens as he fucks you deeper than before.
“O-Oh fuck, stop clenching around me, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie growls.
You squeal when you feel his hand around your throat. Suddenly, he has you pinned against his back, one hand remaining on your throat while the other roams your body, playing with your tits and sliding down your stomach.
“Honey, you look so fucking good,” Steve grunts, moaning louder than before. He stares at you, he stares at the way Eddie’s cock slides in and out of your pussy, he watches the way tears run down your cheek, the way you hold your hand over Eddie’s, grasping it tightly as you moan louder and louder.
Eddie kisses your shoulder and your neck, “you’re doing so good for me,” he whispers, “are you close, baby?”
“Mhmmm,” you nod desperately, “s-so close.”
“You wanna cum?”
“Yes, Eddie! Please!”
He looks over at Steve, “should I let her cum?”
Steve nods, looking just as desperate as you, “yes, fuck.. Let her cum.”
You feel him twitching inside of you, he is close, just like you, just like Steve. Eddie whimpers into your ear, his fingers reaching down to rub your clit, he grasps your chin, looking into your eyes before they flutter shut, “cum for me, baby,” he whispers before he slams his lips against yours.
Unlike the other kisses before, this one is soft and sweet, enough to transform tears of pleasure into tears of sadness.
You gush around him, cumming for the last time this night. Eddie moans against you, unwillingly breaking the kiss. You push away from him, letting yourself fall back down just in time for him to pull out, with a groan, he releases all over your ass and back.
You shut your eyes, whimpering at the sensitive feelings rushing through you.
“Fuck,” he whispers, a happy chuckle leaving his lips.
You try to catch your breath, try to stop the tears from falling, you don’t want him to see how vulnerable you are, how hurt you still are by his past actions but you missed him so much and you feel ashamed for it because you know that this means nothing to him, just like it never meant anything to him back then.
Your boyfriend is here, the one that you love with all your heart even when you haven’t told him yet, too scared of rejection, too scared of being pushed away by him the way you were by the other man.
You don’t know how long you’re laying there like this but the feeling of Eddie’s hands on your skin, the feeling of him cleaning your back gently before he presses a soft kiss to your bruised ass suddenly makes you cry harder.
Soft sobs leave your lips as all your feelings come catching up to you.
Steve’s eyes flash with concern, he looks at Eddie, who suddenly looks like a deer caught in headlights as his face grows pale and his eyes show nothing but panic.
Steve rushes towards you, using his throw blanket to cover your bare body, he pushes your hair to the side and touches your back softly, “honey,” he whispers, “what’s wrong?” He asks in concern.
Eddie doesn’t even bother to put his shirt on, standing there in nothing but his jeans, he stares at you as his heart begins to race.
Steve kisses your shoulder, your arm, your knuckles and then your cheek, “talk to me, baby,” he whispers, “are you hurt?”
Eddie puts his hand on his forehead as tears well up in his eyes, did he take things too far? Did he hurt you?
You shake your head, “no.. I’m not, I’m okay.”
He should feel relieved but he can’t, not when you are crying after you just had sex.
Your glassy eyes meet the ones of your boyfriend, your bottom lip quivers as you stare at him, you push yourself up a little, clutching the blanket against your chest, “d-do you love me?”
Your voice sounds broken, small and vulnerable.
Steve has never seen you like this. His heart squeezes in his chest and he furrows his brows, he nods, cupping your cheeks, “of course, honey. I love you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with truth, “I love you so much.”
Your eyes flash with relief, you nod, “thank you.”
He frowns at your words, not understanding why you are thanking him for loving you but it quickly catches up to him when he looks over your shoulder, eyes locking with Eddie’s tear filled and guilty ones.
You loved him and he didn’t love you back.
At least that’s what you believed.
Eddie looks heartbroken, he looks sad and he looks like he hates himself because he pushed you away before. He loves you, he is in love with you.
Eddie’s bottom lip quivers just like yours does, he blinks, trying to push the tears back as he reaches for his shirt, throwing the black material over his head.
Steve feels a sudden longing for the man in front of him, not wanting him to go, not wanting him to leave you again.
“I’m gonna go,” Eddie mumbles quietly.
Steve can see the way your eyes flash with sadness, the way your body tenses. He doesn’t want you to hurt, he doesn’t want Eddie to hurt.
Steve wipes your tears away and he looks into your eyes. You love Eddie, maybe that should scare him but it doesn’t because he knows that you love him too and that’s all that matters.
“Don’t go.”
Eddie looks at him in confusion, “what?”
“Please don’t go,” Steve says, “come here.”
Eddie hesitates, he looks at the back of your head, your quiet sniffles break his heart all over again.
“It’s okay, Eddie.” It’s okay to love her too.
Eddie nods, walking closer to you, he looks at you with sad eyes, watching the way you clutch Steve’s hand tightly as you cry. Tears stream down your face just like they did back then.
He sits down beside you, reaching out to touch your shoulder but you flinch away from him.
He closes his eyes, sighing deeply.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry for everything, for what I said. I’m sorry for lying to you.”
Steve rubs the back of your hand, squeezing it tightly.
“Lying?” You whisper.
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, “I lied to you about everything that night. I didn’t want anyone else, there was never anyone else, there was no other girl, ever. You were always the only one for me, you still are.”
You furrow your brows, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You feel relieved but angry at the same time.
“Those things I said about you, I didn’t mean them. God, I was so stupid. I wanted you so bad, still do,” he says as tears run down his cheeks.
You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but the truth.
You still long for him the way you always did, you still want him, you still love him.
You love them both.
“I was always so crazy about you, fuck– it hurt so much to push you away, sweetheart,” he whispers.
“Then why did you?” You ask in a broken whisper.
“I didn’t want to ruin your life.”
Your heart breaks but the anger is stronger.
“But you did, you did ruin my life. You broke my heart.”
Regret and guilt is what he felt for so many months after he had pushed you away but especially now that he has to look into your tearfilled eyes.
“I-I’m so sorry, I regretted every single day,” he whispers, scooting closer to you. He reaches his hand out again, this time, you don’t flinch when he touches you, he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes.
“I love you.”
You sniffle, more tears well up in your eyes as you finally hear those words that you have craved so bad.
“I love you so much, sweetheart.”
“Y-You do?” You whisper.
He nods, smiling as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, “I do.”
Steve can’t even help it, he looks down at your hand that is still holding his tightly, he smiles.
Maybe this isn’t ideal but it works for him.
Eddie grew on him, he didn’t understand just how much he did but he doesn’t mind, especially now when he sees the happy look in your eyes, when you still hold his hand as you let Eddie wrap his arms around you.
You bury your face in the crook of his neck and squeeze him tightly as he holds you, cupping the back of your neck and breathing in your scent.
You are happy with him but you are even happier with Eddie back in your life, that's makes it all worth it.
As Steve watches the two of you, he knows that everything is going to be okay because at the end of the day, you all have each other.
No more pain, no more broken hearts or any missing pieces.
You got each other forever.
-
tagging my faves <3 @littledemondani @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @aftermidnightwriting @bimbobaggins69
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#steddie x reader#steddie x you#steddie x y/n#steddie x reader smut
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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest
Day #30 - Prompt: Fame and Fortune | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: implied alcoholism | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: mild angst with a happy ending, future fic, they’re in love your honour, Eddie’s over it
Again, another iPad entry so hopefully no typos but… who knows!
The moment Eddie gets off the stage Steve knows something is wrong.
The twenty-first had been hard, a day of press, of meet and greets, of things Steve asked Eddie to cancel. ‘It’s easier to just do it’; it’s not though. It never fucking is. The press and the fans get a Diet Eddie, and Steve ends up with an angry drunk in his bedroom. But they power through it. They always do.
Steve goes to special shows now, wouldn’t have come to this one but it’s the twenty-seventh, and what’s more special than knowing your boyfriend is still alive?
Eddie practically throws his guitar at his tech as he rushes off stage, rushing past everyone, Steve included.
“Eddie?” he calls out.
The rest of the band get off the stage. “Eddie!” Jeff shouts from behind him. “The encore!”
But he’s gone, down the labyrinth of hallways, the crowd still cheering for more.
He doesn’t shower, doesn’t grab his shit from the dressing room, just walks out of the back of the venue to their car, Steve running behind him. The car isn’t ready, they’re not expecting him for another thirty minutes at least, and it’s a confused mess of security and crew, frantic radio messages.
“Eddie, what the fuck is going on?” Steve asks, taking him by the elbow. He gets a tight head shake as a reply.
The car ride is silent, the smell of cooling sweat blending with the air con blowing full blast at them, and when they get to their hotel room, Eddie heads straight to the phone.
“Hi, can I get room service to the Junior Suite?”
Steve just gawps, he feels like he’s losing his fucking mind.
“Uh… can I get… do you have pineapple? I’d really like some pineapple actually. And a bottle of champagne… whatever you think is best, oh and hold on,” he says covering the mouthpiece with his hand. “Do you want anything?”
He sounds manic, so off, so not his usual self. Wild in a crazed way, and it’s scaring Steve. He stands in the entranceway, mouth hanging open.
“Yeah, I want to know what the fuck is going on?”
Eddie blinks.
“And a cheese burger and fries.”
He hangs up and finally peels his t-shirt off, letting it drop to the floor as he walks to the bathroom to shower. The phone keeps ringing, Jeff asking what the hell is going on, their manager, Phil, screaming at him. Eddie wanders in, towel around his waist, another wrapped around his hair. He doesn’t even stop to ask who Steve’s talking to, just gently takes the handset from his hands, places it back on the phone.
The room service arrives and Eddie leads Steve to the dining table, tells him to sit and eat, and then he takes a huge piece of pineapple with him to the bed.
The phone rings again, and this time Eddie rips the cord from the wall.
“Ed, you have got to talk to me.”
“I will. Just let me eat this first. Eat your burger.”
As if he could.
Eddie sits on the edge of the bed half naked, eating pineapple. Steve’s watched them trash rooms before, true idiot behaviour, but this is probably the weirdest fucking thing he’s ever seen.
There’s banging on the door, Steve can hear Gareth’s voice, then Phil’s again, it’s after midnight now. Eventually they go away.
“You know,” Eddie says breaking the silence. “I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything in the last few years as much as I enjoyed that fucking pineapple.” He frowns at the half eaten fruit platter, like he’s trying to solve a math problem.
Steve crouches in down in front of him, his hands gripping Eddie’s knees.
“Bambi, please, what the fuck is going on? I mean, do I need to call a doctor here…? You’re scaring me.”
Eddie looks at him like he’s water on a hot day.
“What if I said let’s run away? I’ll quit the band, we’ll buy a ranch or a farm. Get out of LA.” His eyes meet Steve’s properly for the first time since he got off stage. “What would you say?”
“I’d say give me ten minutes to pack.”
“Really?”
“Really. Where’s this coming from?”
“I died twenty years ago. And I got a second chance and I took it, you know. We’ve done amazing things. But it’s not fun anymore. It hasn’t been fun for a long time. And life’s too short for that, it’s too short for me to waste it being miserable. And I am. I’m a thing, I’m a commodity. I go where I’m told, I turn up, do my thing. I don’t remember the names of the towns I’m in, I always thought that was a joke you know? It’s not. It’s real.” He laughs, but it’s shallow, his eyes flat. “Who fucking knew?”
Steve gets off the floor and sits beside Eddie on the bed. “Are you serious?”
Eddie doesn’t answer straight away, but when he eventually looks at Steve he nods, and for the first time that day, Steve realises, he smiles. “Yeah. Yeah I’m serious.”
“I hate that you felt this way and didn’t tell me.”
Eddie takes his hand, threads his fingers through, locking them together.
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
This stupid, beautiful man. His everything. His life.
“And the band?”
Eddie shrugs. “They’ll be fine. They’ll get another guitarist no problem. People would kill to join them.”
Steve reaches for Eddie, lays his palm against his cheek, trails his thumb along the silvery thread that runs all the way to his throat, a memory woven on his face. It scares him how close they were to not having this, hits him sometimes out of nowhere. He leans in, his lips meeting Eddie’s, tastes pineapple, tastes home. He wouldn’t deny this man a single thing.
“Alright then,” says Steve says, breaking the kiss with a smile. “I guess we’re going shopping for a ranch.”
#corrodedcoffinfest#corroded coffin#corroded coffin fic#eddie munson#steve harrington#cw implied alcoholism#Steddie
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𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆
pairing: college!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.8k words
summary: in which a plethora of coincidences keep pushing you and steve toward each other and you kind of hate it
warnings: slight!fuckboy steve, explicit language, angst, some fluff
author’s note: hope y’all enjoy<3333 (full folklore series masterlist here!)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“and isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
You didn’t know his name, but you saw him almost everywhere.
Actually, you did know his name, Steve, but you didn’t really know him.
What you did know was that he had been a shitty group partner to have last semester for a history class, and that he had an on-again/off-again, more so off-again, relationship with your roommate who you had a polite but surface-level friendship with. He also frequented the diner you worked at a few minutes off campus with his basketball friends and dates; and you couldn’t help but notice that it was always a different girl each time.
Even though there were a bunch of opportunities for something to happen between you two, you’d never had an actual conversation with him. Not that you necessarily wanted to. But, after having the plethora of instances where you could’ve talked to one another, it sometimes surprised you that you didn’t at least have some sort of a friendship with this guy you’d see way too often.
You chalked it up to the fact that even though you two would share passing glances every so often with one another, you’d never been in a one-on-one situation with him.
Until you finally were, and it was in perhaps one of the worst and weirdest ways possible.
You were walking down a random aisle on the fourth floor of the campus library when you bumped into Steve. Well, “bumped” is a bit of an understatement because you quite literally tripped over him.
For some reason, he was sleeping in the middle of the aisle, and you didn’t notice until it was too late since your eyes were solely trained on the shelves as you searched for one book in particular.
“Jesus Christ,” You yelped as you tumbled to the ground, glad that your brain thought quick enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant.
When you looked at what caused you to fall and saw Steve leaning against a bookshelf with his legs out, you inwardly groaned because, of course, it was him.
“Ouch,” He said with a small yawn as he rubbed the leg that you tripped over. “Weird wake-up call.”
“Why the hell are you sleeping here?” You asked as you started to get up.
“I was trying to study for a test and then I got tired,” He shrugged and then finally looked at you. “Hey, you look crazy familiar.”
You almost laughed at that and thought about simply walking away from him, but decided against it. The universe clearly wanted you two to have a conversation with one another, so you decided to finally give it what it wanted.
“We were in the same group for a history project last semester,” You answered.
“Oh yeah,” He said and his eyes cast downward. “Sorry about that. I know I was probably the worst person in that group.”
“Very, very true,” You nodded, although you were no longer upset about that whole situation. Not that you were ever truly mad, anyway. “Also, you had, or maybe still have, some sort of fling going on with my roommate. Lissa.”
“That is definitely a past tense thing,” He responded with so much certainty that you silently wondered what happened between them. You weren’t close enough with Lissa to talk to her about that sort of thing, though.
“I think I’ve seen you somewhere else though, too,” Steve said and then thought for a moment. “Oh, you work at that diner, right?”
“Yup, mostly weekends but some weeknights too.”
Steve nodded at your words. “Huh, surprised we never talked before.”
You didn’t tell him that you had been thinking the same thing and instead decided to sit down across from him putting your legs out as well. “What class are you studying for?”
“Psychology,” He answered and then showed you the textbook next to him, which looked eerily familiar.
“With Dr. Brooke?”
Steve nodded and you fought the urge to look around to see if you were on some sort of elaborate prank show. Because it didn’t fully make sense to you how all of these fucking coincidences were happening.
“I’m in that class too,” You responded after a brief stint of silence.
In this case, it kind of made sense that you didn’t know he was also in that class because it was huge, with at least a hundred fifty people in that auditorium-type room.
“Wow,” Steve verbalized the surprise you were inwardly feeling. “Weird.”
You couldn’t help but finally let out a small laugh. “‘Wow’ and ‘weird’ are probably the understatements of the century.” You pulled your legs up and wrapped your arms around them. “I think we kind of have to be friends now. These coincidences are too fucking insane to not be.”
He smiled at you and there was something about it that made you fully understand why he so easily had a new girl to bring to the diner every week.
“What if I take you on a date?”
A part of you immediately felt surprised by his question and how abrupt it was. However, the other part of you sort of saw it coming because it made a little bit of sense. Case in point, the fact that you would frequently see him with a new girl. Asking someone out was probably equivalent to breathing for him.
“No,” You answered simply before standing up.
You didn’t notice the immediate confused look on his face as he followed suit and abruptly stood as well.
“Why not?”
There were a lot of reasons you could’ve given him as the answer to that question. Such as how he’d been with your roommate, and although you weren’t best friends with Lissa, something about it still felt at least a little wrong. Or the fact that the thought of being added to his list of conquests made you feel physically ill.
“I’d just rather not,” You ultimately answered with a small shrug and then started walking away. You quickly pushed away your lingering thought that told you that if the circumstances were different you would’ve fully considered saying yes to him.
Steve didn’t follow you as you walked away. Instead, the wheels in his brain started turning as he thought about how he could get you to go out with him, something told him that you would be harder to get than the majority of girls he’d been with before.
However, he never shied away from a challenge. In fact, there was a part of him that loved them.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“time, curious time. gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. were there clues i didn't see?”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Somehow through the hordes of people, Steve managed to find you the next day in your shared psychology class, and he sat right next to you.
“Hi, friend,” You said when you noticed him and smiled.
Before he could say anything in response, class started and the professor started speaking, almost immediately jumping into the lecture; and he was very intense about his no talking policy. As you half-listened to him discuss the final chapter that would be on the test next week and tried to take somewhat useful notes, you were interrupted by Steve bumping your elbow with his and sliding his notebook over to you.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the action before you read what was written in the margin.
Do you like pizza?
You almost laughed at the randomness of the question. You met his curious gaze for a brief moment and then wrote your response.
Obviously. I’m not a psycho
You pushed the notebook back to Steve and then went back to paying attention to the lecture. Moments later, he slid it back toward you.
Wanna get some tonight? I know a really good place a few minutes off campus
If it’s just a friendly hangout then yes
No. Date?
You rolled your eyes at the question and moved the notebook back toward him without saying anything. You could see in your peripheral that he was adding something else before pushing the notebook to you.
Please?
You crossed out that question and his previous words, and then under it drew a tic-tac-toe board, putting an X in the middle.
You watched as Steve made his move, an O in the top left corner, and then wrote something else.
If I win, will you say yes?
Your one worded response was immediate.
No.
And then you made your move, putting an X under his O.
He didn’t write anything else, which you were actually surprised about, and instead just continued playing tic-tac-toe. You won the first game, and then he won the next two, and you were close to starting another one with him, because you wanted to redeem yourself, but you forced yourself to listen to the end of the lecture.
“So pizza date tonight? I’ll pick you up at 8?” Steve asked when class was over, and the both of you started packing your things.
You laughed a bit. “I think we have very different memories of the conversation that just took place in your notebook.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but you were glad when he was bombarded by a few of his basketball friends. You used that opportunity to slip away and out of the room without having to say anything else to him.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“gave me the blues and then purple pink skies. and it's cool, baby, with me.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Surprisingly enough, when Friday night rolled around, Steve showed up at the diner alone; for the first time probably ever.
You didn’t say anything to him aside from giving him a small wave, which he returned with a smile.
You weren’t the waitress taking care of him that night, and you could tell that Casey, who you worked with most nights, was also surprised to see him by himself because just like you, she was used to seeing him with girl after girl.
Toward the end of your shift, you slid into Steve’s booth, sitting across from him. “You’re probably bored out of your mind being here alone, aren’t you?”
He shrugged nonchalantly and then took a bite from one of the few stray fries left on his plate. “I’d rather be alone if it’s not gonna be you sitting across from me.”
You pretended as if his words had no affect on you, even though they slightly pulled at your heart. You had to remind yourself of his track record, most of which you’d seen firsthand. And because of that, you also reminded yourself that you could only be friends with him.
“Very smooth,” You said and then slid back out of the booth. “But, also probably the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s the truth.” You heard him say as you walked away, and you couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes.
Barely ten minutes later, he went up to where you stood behind the counter putting napkins in a dispenser. His bill was paid and you had expected him to leave at any moment, and you hated that the thought of him leaving made you feel a little bit sad.
“What time are you done here?”
You met his gaze. “In exactly five minutes, actually.”
“Can we do something after?” He asked and when you tilted your head at him, he followed up with, “I promise I only have the friendliest of intentions.”
“I finally brought you to the friendship side?”
“No, but for this instance, yes.”
That managed to make you smile a bit. “Can we go to that pizza place you were talking about? If they’re still open?”
“Yeah, it is. They close at three because the stoner crowd usually shows up around one and that’s peak business.”
“Makes sense,” You nodded. “I don’t drive, so I’ll meet you at your car.”
A confused look crossed Steve’s face. “You don’t drive? How do you get here?”
“I walk from my dorm, it’s only about ten minutes,” You answered with a small shrug.
“Oh, okay,” He responded, and didn't say it aloud to you, but he now knew that he would make it his mission to pick you up at the end of your shifts so that you wouldn’t have to walk alone in the dark anymore. “I’ll meet you outside.”
When you stepped out of the diner, a minute earlier than expected, you were quick to get in Steve’s car.
“Do you have a sweater or something I could wear? I left my jacket at home,” You asked, not really thinking too much of the question because you hated wearing the baby blue dress that was your uniform anywhere other than the diner.
Steve reached into the backseat and handed you a hoodie, which you immediately slipped over your head. The hoodie swallowed you whole and made it look as if you weren’t wearing anything underneath, but it felt so comfortable that you couldn’t even bring yourself to care.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“What are you thinking?” Steve asked when you both finally decided to leave the pizza place around two in the morning. He had walked you to the passenger side of his car, but before you opened the door to get inside, you turned around to face him and you didn’t say anything as you met his eyes, which was what prompted his previous question.
There was a lot that you were thinking right then, and most of the thoughts surrounded the fact that you had thoroughly enjoyed yourself on this “non-date” with Steve. He was genuinely nice and funny, and such a fucking charmer that it made you want to roll your eyes while giggling at his words. And he was being honest about keeping things friendly for the most part, although you had a feeling that not being a least a little flirty was impossible for him.
And it was all of that put together, that made one thought sit heavily at the forefront of your mind.
“I think I wanna kiss you,” You finally answered, and you were surprisingly not scared by your complete honesty.
He smiled at that and his hands found your hips as he moved the tiniest bit closer to you and his next two words came out softly. “Do it.”
You had to pull your eyes away from his because you were so close to listening to him.
“I can’t.” Your voice was quiet.
“Why not?”
“Because I really just want us to be friends.”
“We can still just be friends even if you kiss me right now,” Steve told you, and although you were unsure if you fully believed him, you still decided to take his word for it and you pushed yourself up on your toes a bit to press your lips against his.
You could tell he was initially surprised by the abruptness of it, but he kissed you back almost immediately. Your arms came up to wind around the nape of his neck to steady yourself as your back was pressed into the side of the car.
It felt almost surreal how much better this was than you thought it would be. Your mouths moved against each other so seamlessly, almost as if this was already something that had happened a million times before.
You expected to be able to kiss Steve once as a way to sort of get the attraction you felt toward him out of your system so that you could then let things become completely normal and solely friendly between you two. But, right then– with his lips against yours, and one hand on your waist and the other cupping your cheek– you were hit with the sudden thought that you would need this to happen so many more times.
You didn’t necessarily want to pull away from Steve at that moment, but you had to because you were completely out of breath.
“That was— That was really good.” Your lips were still tingly as you licked them and you felt slightly light-headed, but in a good way, if that was possible.
Steve pressed a chaste kiss against your cheek. “You sure you wanna still be just friends?”
That was the question that you now were unsure of the answer to.
However, a small “yes” was what you responded with after what felt like a year’s worth of silence, and you could hear exactly how unconvincing you sounded.
Steve nodded and you could tell that he was pretending to believe you. “Okay.”
He was about to finally pull away from you, but you stopped him. “What if…What if we are just friends, but we can kiss and maybe do other things,” Your mouth was moving much quicker than your mind could fully process the words you were saying. And you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about what you were proposing, but most of it seemed really good to you. “But, you shouldn’t date people, and I won’t either.”
“Okay,” Steve responded, smiling amusingly at your words. “But, this is starting to sound a lot different from a friendship.”
“Shh,” You said as you slotted your lips against his again. You knew how all of that sounded, but it made you feel a little better about the situation you were putting yourself in because you convinced yourself that you couldn’t get hurt this way. And aside from kissing Steve, not getting hurt was all that really mattered to you right then.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“one single thread of gold tied me to you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
let me know ur thoughts<333
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Could you see Jaune having trouble with meat going forward because he just spent decades where everything was potentially human levels of sentience.
Jaune is poking at his food.
Which Yang knows isn’t THAT strange, he’s never been good at feeding himself when he’s down (a certain week at Beacon with a certain asshole who shall remain unnamed comes to mind) and Jaune certainly has more than enough reason to be out of sorts these days. Being young then old then young again would do that to a guy.
But this is different than his normal lack of appetite. He’s not just pushing his food around; he’s actively picking over pieces of it, almost putting them in his mouth, and then putting the food back on the plate. There’s a certain green around the gills look on her friend’s face that Yang’s come to associate with airship travel.
Not that she can blame him. The food in Vacuo isn’t what she’d call normal or appetizing, but with supplies limited they can’t turn up their noses, especially since they didn’t exactly give Vacuo time to prepare for an influx of refuges.
Still, eating worms, bats, and lizards has taken some getting used to.
“Are you gonna invite me to sit down, or do I have to keep lurking?” Yang quips, plopping down next to her fellow blonde. He jumps, predictably, but his startle instinct is less than it was a week ago. Baby steps.
“Oh! Yeah uh… hey.” He smiles sideways at her. “Did you need something?”
“Nah, not really,” she shrugs. “Just saw you sitting all by your lonesome and thought I’d join you.” She pokes at his food. “You gonna eat that?”
Jaune drops his gaze back to his plate, and once again his expression turns queasy. Like a toddler faced with a plate full of vegetables. Strange, Yang never took Jaune for a picky eater, but then again he did eat almost exclusively dinosaur chicken nuggets back at Beacon.
“It’s looking at me,” he groans, poking at the side of a roasted lizard. It flops over and he shudders.
“So do fish,” Yang says bluntly, dropping an arm around his shoulders. “And I’ve seen Blake eat those heads and all.”
“You know shockingly you’re not helping.”
“Come on, this can’t be the weirdest thing you’ve eaten.” She leans in conspiratorially, lowers her voice. “I mean I was only in the Ever After for a day or two but that parfait-” Yang is fully about to launch into a tirade on the pros and cons of growgurt parfait, but something makes her pause.
The fork is rattling in his grip. Her eyes narrow. That’s not just nausea. A glass dropped in a kitchen miles away comes to mind.
“Jaune…” Yang trails off. Are you alright? What’s wrong? Do you need to talk? She can probably guess the answers to all three questions, but none really feel appropriate in the middle of a cafeteria.
So she draws on the only other well of experience she has. Being a big sister to a very picky eater.
“What’s wrong with the food?” Blunt, but sometimes it’s best to cut to the heart of the issue. “Is there something else you’d rather have?”
“Not meat,” Jaune replies without hesitation, and Yang is admittedly taken aback. He’s never been a carnivore by any means, but his aforementioned love of dino nuggets barred him from vegetarianism.
Yang looks back down at his plate. The lizard is still looking at them, and Jaune is very determinately not making eye contact. “If this is still about the eyes, I’m sure that-”
“No. No it’s not,” Jaune cuts her off, shaking his head. “Well I mean, a little bit, but.” He plops his head down in his hand. Glances sideways at her, and then away again. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
Yang is almost offended that he thinks SHE of all people might laugh at him for what is obviously a trauma response. Friendly negging, sure, but never laughter. She wouldn’t do that to anyone, let alone him. But then a certain magenta and cyan cat with a wicked grin and sharp tongue comes to mind, and she’s reminded that laughter in the face of pain is probably all he’s known for years.
She hates that fucking cat.
“I promise, Jaune. I won’t laugh.”
He studies her for more than a moment, searching her face for any hint of insincerity. Of course finding none, he sighs. “You remember Little?”
Yang blinks. Not where she thought this was going. Roll with the punches. “Yeah. Kinda hard to forget a talking mouse.”
“Right. Yeah, of course.” Jaune laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. He scratches at the back of his neck, reaching for a ponytail that isn’t there. “Stupid of me.”
Yang grabs his hand, and he starts. “Hey. None of that,” she reprimands, stopping his downward spiral before it has time to start. Her thumb rubs a circle in his palm, and she can feel him untense. “What about Little?”
“They’re why I don’t wanna eat meat,” he admits. He's speaking quickly, like the words are being drawn out of him.
No laughing, not now, but Yang can’t help her skeptical look. Little, by their own admission, had never been away from home. And sure, Jaune was there for decades, but he didn’t seem to know the mouse.
Jaune sees her look and clarifies. “Well not them specifically, but like… the Afterans. Everything there was so… alive, they could talk, think for themselves. Everything. The mice, rabbits, deer, birds…”
His grip tightens on her hand. “I didn’t have a choice in the beginning. It wasn’t fun, but what else could I do? I had to eat, and after the clock fruit I didn’t trust the plants, so the animals…” Jaune swallows thickly. “The animals seemed like the safest bet.”
If her hand was flesh, she’s sure his nails would be biting into her skin. As it is, she can feel the way his hand is gripping hers like it’s the only thing keeping him from running. And it’s horrible, because Yang thinks she can see the end of the tunnel, the destination this story is going to.
“I knew how to do it. Hunt animals, I mean,” he says, his voice horribly detached. “I used to go hunting with my mom when the food stores were low. And in Mistral, with Ruby and Ren and Nora. So I knew how to catch an animal and skin it and cook it.”
Jaune laughs again. “It wasn’t pretty, Ren could definitely do a better job. So cooking and cleaning it wasn’t the worst part. The worst part…” He swallows thickly. “The worst part was killing it. It was alive, Yang. It was alive, and it was staring at me, and it didn’t want to die.” He stares down at the lizard on his plate. It stares back at him, accusing almost.
“How… how do you know it didn’t want to die?” Yang asks tentatively, even though she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.
“It told me.” His voice is horrible, wretched. The green is back in his cheeks and Yang hates that she now knows the reason why. “It told me! And I still killed it, and cooked it, and ate-” Jaune’s voice chokes off. The words seem to catch in his throat. “It was like… it was like eating…”
“Like eating a person,” Yang finishes, the train now having reached the horrible station. Jaune nods, horror stricken, and Yang trades which hand is holding his so she can rub circles into his back. He’s still just staring at his food. “Gods Jaune I… That’s so fucked, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“I had to eat, or I’d die. And I couldn’t die because I had to wait for you all to arrive. So I had to eat.” The way he says it, so matter-of-fact, Yang can’t help but wonder what else he’s internalized as being what he had to do, no matter the harm it caused him.
She doesn’t know what to say. Picky eating, she could handle. Trauma, she could handle that, too. At least, to an extent. But sometimes it was just too much.
“How long?” Yang asks eventually. “You weren’t eating meat while we were there, how long did you have to do that?”
“A week. I think,” he responds. “Time was difficult.” And isn’t that the understatement of a century. “Once I found the Hunter Mice they showed me which plants were safe to eat. Some of them were hit and miss, but I was good from then on. Especially when I made it to the Market.”
The lizard stares up at them both. Yang glares back at it, as if the dead desert dweller was the one who sent Jaune back in time and made him so desperate to live that he was forced to… do that.
“So… no meat?”
“No meat,” Jaune confirms. “I could probably choke it down if needs must, but…”
“Not even dino nuggies?” she grins.
He barks out a laugh. “My only weakness. No, not yet.” Not yet. That was better than she was expecting. His cheeks are still a little green, but he’s not shaking anymore at least. “Maybe at some point, but not now. No meat.” He grimaces, poking at the lizard. “And especially none with eyes.”
“Well in that case, come on.” Yang stands. He finally pulls his eyes away from the plate, and blinks up at her. “Let’s go!”
“Go where?”
“To find you something to eat!” Hand still firmly clasped around his, she hauls him up and scoops the unwanted plate up in the other. “I’m sure Sun knows someplace around here that serves vegetarian options.”
“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Jaune protests. “I already ruined your whole lunch with this.” He gestures vaguely between himself and the plate.
“No way, you didn’t do anything.” Yang jabs a finger in his chest. “If you need an ear to listen, I’m happy to be there. You’re not imposing, you’re not too much, I’ve got you.” She doesn’t tell people that enough. A tea cup and a wooden tomb. She needs to tell people that more. “I’m buying you lunch. Veggies. Fruits. You name it, you get it.”
“You really don’t have to do that.”
“Oh, I really think I do.”
“I’m not going to change your mind about this, am I?” he smiled, allowing Yang to drag him from the cafeteria.
“No-sir-ee bob,” she said, swinging his hand back and forth. “You are not leaving my side until we get some desert fresh veggies in your stomach.” She passed the uneaten plate to a volunteer by the door. “My treat.”
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Jaune's Bachelor Party
Ren: Are you certain that this is a tradition for bachelor parties? I promised Pyrrha that Jaune would have fun and be safe...
Taiyang: Well of course!
Qrow: That’s why you hired us, right?
Ren: I suppose…but this plan you gave me…
Taiyang: Don’t worry! Qrow and I are old pros at this!
Qrow: You should’ve seen what I did for Tai’s second bachelor party! The cops in Menagerie were both impressed AND pissed!
Ren: ...I’m even less sure about this than I was before.
———————————————————————
Jaune: *walking down the sidewalk with Ren* Thanks again for agreeing to be my best man, Ren!
Ren: I’m honored you asked me!
Jaune: So, what’s the plan for tonight? Meet Sun and Neptune for dinner at the noodle bar? Go to the VIP room at the arcade? I hope it's not a difficult Escape Room, I told Pyrrha I’d be back by-
Qrow: NOW!!!
Taiyang/Qrow: *jump out of bushes and grab Jaune*
Qrow: *cover’s Jaune’s face with a chloroform-soaked rag until he passes out*
Taiyang: *throws Jaune’s body over his shoulder and carries him to an unmarked van*
Ren: That was more violent than I was told to expect.
Qrow: Hey, who’s the professional here?
Taiyang: *tosses unconscious body into the back* Besides, the fun’s barely begun!
———————————————————————
Sun: So…uh…we’ve been driving for a while…where is this bachelor party exactly?
Neptune: And why is the bachelor unconscious in the back seat?
Taiyang: *driving the van* Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing!
Qrow: Blondie’s going to love this place, trust me!
Jaune: *groans* …wha…? Where are we…?
Taiyang: We’re here! *slams on the brakes*
Taiyang/Qrow/Jaune/Ren/Sun/Neptune: …
Sun: …dude, you brought us to a strip club.
Ren: This is everything I promised Pyrrha I wouldn’t let happen.
Qrow: Oh, lighten up! Once we go inside you’ll see that this is a classy place with an excellent buffet!
Jaune/Ren/Sun/Neptune: *dragged inside*
Qrow: Feast your eyes, boys!
Jaune: 😳
Ren: 😳
Sun: Dude…
Neptune: …holy…
Taiyang: Hey, I told the MC that we’re here for a bachelor party and she said they’ll do something special!
Jaune: Wait, what?
MC: Attention, everyone! We’ve got a special show on tonight for someone’s last night out before getting hitched!
Jaune: *shrinks down awkwardly as spotlight shines on him*
MC: …So everyone give it up for the bandit queen herself! Welcome to the stage…Raven!
Raven: *struts on stage*
Qrow: Raven?
Taiyang: RAVEN?!
Raven: Qrow? Taiyang?! What the hell are you doing here?
Taiyang: What the hell are YOU doing here?!
Ren: Is this part of the bachelor party?
Raven: The tribe broke up a few months back, and this was the easiest way to make money under the table without drawing the cops' attention!
Neptune: What’s even happening right now?
Qrow: What, robbing people crapped out and couldn’t get a job as a street walker?
Raven: 😡
Raven: 😑…You know what? I’ve got a job to do and I’m going to do it! Which one of you is getting married? *starts undoing her shirt*
Jaune: I-
Jaune: *hit in the face with Raven’s top*
———————————————————————
Sun/Neptune/Ren/Jaune: *sitting at the buffet table after Raven's raunchy display* ...
Sun: ...did that seem…like…really weird to anyone else?
Neptune: It started out exciting, but then it got…disturbing…😰
Ren: *looking down at his noodles* …I don’t feel like eating…I’m not sure I can even look at this right now…
Jaune: *hair messed up and nursing a series of rope burns and whip lashes* I miss Pyrrha…😭
Qrow: *finishes his noodles with a slurp* Not a bad start to the evening, if I do say so myself! 😋
Qrow: Has anyone seen Tai?
Sun: He went backstage with the stripper. He said something about “the weirdest sex ever.”
Qrow: *shaking his head* Ha, ha….! Classic Taiyang…!
Qrow: …
Qrow: …anyway, everyone back in the van for the second half of the bachelor party!
Neptune: Uh…?
Sun: Well…?
Ren: This sounds like a bad idea.
Jaune: I don’t-
Raven: *pulling her shirt down as she walks out of the back room* Hell, yeah! I’ll drive!
Taiyang: *following Raven and fastening his pants* I’ll grab my keys!
Ren: *face in his hands* If we survive, Pyrrha’s going to kill me
Pt 2…
#rwby#jaune arc#lie ren#neptune vasilias#sun wukong#qrow branwen#taiyang xiao long#raven branwen#arkos#jaune x pyrrha#jaune arc x pyrrha nikos#phoenix#taiyang x raven#Taiyang xiao long X raven branwen
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Got Your Back
“You know what,” Tony said, making a displeased face at the weird temple-thing that Stephen had brought them to. Stephen resisted telling him his face was going to get stuck that way. “This is not where I want to die.”
“We’re not going to die,” Stephen said, exasperated. “Though, even if we were, I promise you, I’ve died in worse places.”
Tony gave him one of those looks that made it clear that, while Tony loved him immeasurably, Stephen needed serious help.
Which sure, might be true, but Stephen was a very busy person. Sue him if getting help for his myriad of issues was not on his priority list.
No matter what Wong had to say about it. Wong could keep his opinions to himself.
“You really need to stop dying places,” Tony said bluntly. “Period. There’s no competition out there about who can die in the weirdest places or the most number of times. And if there were, I’m pretty sure you already won and are only competing with yourself at this point.”
Which, okay, might also be true. Didn’t mean Tony needed to point that out.
“I’ll work on it,” Stephen said noncommittally; it wasn’t his fault that there had been so many times when the best way to win involved dying. That and time loops were a thing that Stephen had made excellent use of.
He’d always been creative.
“Don’t strain yourself,” Tony said dryly. “It’s only your life on the line after all.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Stephen agreed. “So how about you leave me to worry about it. And if you’re worried about dying, then maybe you should sit this out.”
“You said that this was an Artificer’s Temple, and that you suspected they dabbled in mechanics,” Tony pointed out. “And that you might need a mechanic’s touch to disable any traps. So unless one of your fellow sorcerers has gone and gotten a PhD in engineering, I’m your best bet.”
He really was Stephen’s best bet, and Stephen knew it.
It was the only reason he was bringing Tony along anyways. He hated endangering Tony any more than he had to, especially since Tony was pretty much retired at this point—for now at least—his vision damaged in his right eye and his mechanical arm mostly untested. Though given that it had been a collaboration between Shuri and Tony, Stephen had no doubt that the arm was more than up for the task of anything Stephen could imagine.
Stephen focused back on the artificer temple that they had only discovered in their attempts to track Mordo. Ominous, he decided, would be a good description. The stone was pitch black and seemed to absorb the light around it, making the whole area feel dimmed and shadowed. It reeked of darkness that reminded Stephen of the dark dimension.
He glanced at Tony, reassuring himself that Tony was okay.
Tony must have felt his gaze, because he turned toward Stephen giving him a reassuring smile that only touched the left side of his face.
Burned or not, he was still the most beautiful, most precious man that Stephen had ever seen.
“Hey,” Tony reached out, taking his hand and giving it the softest of squeezes. “This is going to be fine. What’s a temple going to do, come alive and swallow us whole?”
Stephen groaned. “Thank you, Tony. You’ve now jinxed us. Because let’s face it, we both have the sort of luck that would include buildings trying to eat us.”
It was absolutely something that a talented enough artificer could pull off, that or a large enough group of artificers aimed at a larger purpose.
“Well, it would be an interesting way to go, at least,” Tony commented blithely. “So, what are we looking for anyways?” Tony asked, ignoring the comment about jinxing them. Tony was always good at ignoring things he didn’t want to acknowledge. It was almost impressive.
And no, Stephen wasn’t a hypocrite.
“Not sure,” Stephen admitted. “We just want to make sure that Mordo isn’t causing problems here.”
“Right. Your old mentor who decided it was time to steal the magic from everyone who doesn’t agree with him. Sounds like a great guy.”
Stephen flinched a little, there was still a part of him that felt a deep sting of betrayal at the thought of what Mordo was doing.
“That’s the one,” Stephen said, keeping his voice neutral. Tony winced and sent him an apologetic look. “Now let’s go, I don’t want to give him any more time to find ways to cause the rest of us problems than we have to.”
“After you, doc. I’ve got your back.”
Stephen smiled at him, this one genuine. “I know you do.”
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i had a whole message ready to go and dropped my phone, so this might end up being shorter. first, as context, i went to a massive hockey school and was with my boyfriend who was on the team throughout our time there and after. still talk with him, but i’ll be honest and say that all the sh*t that comes with having a relationship with someone that’s high profile was just too much.
1. the reading stuff is hilarious. obviously they can read—they just don’t HAVE to read. even in college. was at a party at one of his teammate’s places and opened the fridge to grab something and there were textbooks, still in the plastic, sitting on the top shelf. it was a class i was also taking. when I confronted the guy about it as I held said textbooks in hand laughing (it was near midterms) he said “it doesn’t matter. i’ll pass.” he passed and it definitely wasn’t because he understood a damn thing in that course.
2. cliques exist on teams. ill break that down further. my boyfriend hung with like five of his teammates and a handful of athletes from another big sport at my school. those were who we were around on any given day. on weekends after games, or if there was a stretch with a break from some games, the entire team would go out. your ass better be at those team events or if not you better have a good reason why you’re not there. there was an issue off the ice involving the team and there was definitely a rift afterwards because a few of the guys were not there. it made for a really bad season with a team that should have done well.
3. they’re not tagging pics in real-time. they’ll post stuff a few days later with the tags on the locations so people think they know where they are if they post anything at all. that’s equally true for public and private accounts where tracking can be controlled. im sure most people recognize this, but i’ve never seen it stated outright. i was even asked to hold off on posting things until we were somewhere else even though my accounts are private. if they want you to know where they are, you’ll know where they are.
4. for the love of god do not send them nudes. not unless you want that entire team and possibly more to have them. getting nudes was a game to them.
5. which brings me to—they are ALWAYS involved in some sort of game or challenge with one another. the nudes was one, i can’t give anything more specific because i’d likely dox myself. not really feeling up for that blowback. just—they’re always betting each other over something and keeping tabs/score with something likely unrelated to hockey. sometimes it’s funny and sometimes “ew.” but there’s always something.
6. the sh*t they do off ice is hilarious and often unexpected. one of my best friends is the biggest a-hole on the ice, led the team in penalties, etc. off ice he’s the nicest human you will ever meet. he doesn’t read for fun, but he’s a nerd over a specific genre of movies that you wouldn’t expect. video games are pretty constant. they’re psychotically competitive even with those. watching giant man children rage quit video games is hilarious. oh and some of them have the weirdest habits. can’t really elaborate on that one. if anything i’d send it another time.
7. as someone that had a whole school watching my every move and then a whole city watching my every move, i can tell you it gets old fast—for everyone involved. i had people (guys and girls) show up where i lived. 95% of the sh*t i read online that was supposedly about me, him, me and him, etc was not even close to true. take what you see about any of the players or the people involved with them with a grain of salt.
8. sadly some of the worst guys are the ones in the longest relationships, or had families, etc. that was really horrifying to me. strictly anecdotal to my experience with two teams and their circles, but yeah. it was bad.
9. because the question comes up a lot—where? i met my boyfriend at mandatory study hall freshman year because im also an athlete. we never talk hockey. i talk hockey with my other friends and family, never with him or his teammates. he’s in it all day everyday, it’s his job, just like when im done with work i know i don’t want to talk about it, they’re the same way. if he brings it up, sure, but i’m sure as hell not gonna be the one to do that.
and for those keeping score: tall and natural blonde. many of his teammates over the years dated brunettes but they almost always ended up dying their hair blonde. so I don’t know if it’s blondes initially all the time. if anything i would just add that WAGs are their own beast with all the peer pressure and competitiveness of a team. the going blonde thing might be due to the pressures within that group.
way longer message than i intended but hopefully some valuable insight for those who have asked. as you’ve said, they’re humans like anyone else, their job is just different. oh, and summers were mostly working with skills coaches and rehabbing injuries/getting surgeries that are overdue that weren’t publicized. the public doesn’t know half the sh*t these guys are playing through.
everyone thank this anon for her service because this is absolutely perfect, no notes.
the ones i can most agree with / corroborate from my own experiences: she is 100% correct. do not send these guys nudes (i never have & never will, but know that they get them spread around quickly!!), and the same goes for competing over things. good lord, it’ll be the stupidest shit sometimes too but somehow it becomes a competition 😭 it’s crazy! and the same goes for schoolwork. it’s not just hockey. i have a friend who went to an SEC school with a historic football team (and sorority rush, cough cough), and she said the same thing about football players. they’ll pass. no matter what. doesn’t mean they’ll have a 4.0, but they’ll pass enough. i’m sure it’s the same with big hockey schools up here and the midwest as it is in the south with football. that doesn’t surprise me at all, unfortunately.
also, that last line. the public doesn’t know half the shit these guys are playing through. YUP. the things their bodies go through in not just a season, but in one game, are absolutely insane. and she’s very correct about privately-handled, unannounced offseason surgeries. 🙂↕️
i think the most interesting thing for you guys to see is her insight that most brunette WAGs end up going blonde & that whole explanation of the blonde WAG stereotype in every level of hockey.
whoever you are, i adore you, this was an amazing read, and if you ever want to talk privately in dms and stuff, i’d love to! if not, no worries, and thank you for stopping by & talking to me 🥰💋❤️
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May I request from your Followers event. If it's no trouble, I request izuru kamakura and reader insert, and the length will be long. And can it be fluff with a tint of angst, That's all and thank you!
Oh absolutely, anon. I went ham with this one (the brainrot was BAD) so enjoy the extra long fic!~
As always, this will be cross-posted onto AO3 shortly.
As the world falls to pieces, no one is immune to injury, fatal or not.
You learn that the hard way when rioters become extra violent in Tokyo, which ends in several explosions, wrecks, fires… everything. Whether it’s a homemade blast, something stolen from the government, or a freak earthquake, you have no idea. All that you know was that you’re just trying to evacuate when something goes off, throwing you a dozen feet back, feet-over-head. You crash into something hard and simply black out from the impact.
How you’re still alive is a mystery to be sure. When you come to, you’re sprawled across the pavement, lightheaded and confused. To get your bearings, you attempt to stand.
Keyword being attempt.
Your legs aren’t cooperating, simply staying inert even when you pull up on a nearby car. All of your arm strength isn’t enough to pull yourself up, and your lower back hurts like a bitch. It’s enough to make you cry out in pain and frustration as you simply flop back onto the road, defeated.
For the first time, you realize that you’re alone and completely helpless.
Until you hear footsteps nearby—heeled shoes, clicking across the debris-covered pavement, heading in your direction with careful steps.
You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. You’re not sure how much time has passed since the explosion, so you can’t completely rule out the idea that it’s a rioter. They were bloodthirsty people, and you would rather not get got immediately after waking up.
…Then again, who knows how long you could stay alive like this? Would you even be able to pull yourself to a store to get food? Or water?
The footsteps continue to approach, growing louder with every moment. You debate pleading for your life, wondering amidst the panic what you would even have to offer in exchange when—
“What an inconvenient place to rest,” they say, monotone and male. “The tension in your face suggests that you’re in pain.”
“Just get it over with,” you groan instead. “Put me out of my misery, yada yada.”
“Why would I kill you? You’re no threat to me.”
That’s… odd. You hesitantly open your eyes to see a vibrant red gaze looking back at you. This man stands over you without any sign of wary, only a blank expression on his face with the slightest hint of curiosity. Your eye is drawn multiple places, from the red eyes, to the long dark hair, to the rough scar across his crown. This is someone with a story, and you’d be enthralled if it wasn’t for the lingering confusion as to why he’s just… staring at you.
Weirdest looking angel I’ve ever seen.
“I assure you,” he says without prompt, “I am no angel.” When you gawk and open your mouth to question him, he simply talks over you. “Are you so faint as to not be aware that you said that out loud?”
It forces a startled laugh out of you. “I, uh, think I might have a concussion. Also my legs don’t work. So please, feel free to move on with your day.”
The stranger blinks at you. Once. Twice. “Odd,” he finally says, small and distant. “I shouldn’t be feeling pity.”
“Odd thing to say.”
“I should be incapable of having emotion. I was made that way.”
The scar across his crown suddenly makes sense, and now you’re feeling pity.
“Are your arms functional?” he asks.
“Yeah, looks like it. I can always just pull myself along until I find shelter, so—”
His hands are on you, then, guiding you up into a sitting position while you startle. The stranger is rather cold to the touch, but he’s quite gentle. After you’ve sat up, he fully squats in front of you, his gaze tracing everywhere available to it. One hand finds its way to the side of your head, and you yelp at the sharp pain. His brow furrows in response.
You think he’s checking your injuries, but for someone as hypothetically-emotionless as him, it feels odd.
He turns, back facing you now, and reaches out behind him a bit. “Arms around my neck.”
“Wh—The hell are you—?”
“That was not a request.” There’s no audible bite to his words, but you decide that you don’t want to test it.
Still hesitantly, you lean forward as much as you can and lock your arms around his neck, careful to not pull any of his hair in the process. Just as you’re about to question his intentions, the stranger’s hands slide under your knees and hoist you up into a piggyback position. You half expect him to show some kind of effort in standing, but he does so without problem.
You hold just a little bit tighter. “H-Hey, uh, whatcha doing?”
“I will be your transportation and protection until you are well enough to take care of yourself,” he responds simply, the duh implied. “Is this to your satisfaction?”
“…Do you have a name?”
Red eyes find you over his shoulder, no longer cold and menacing, but soft. “I have been named Izuru Kamukura. Call me whatever you wish, within reason.”
You introduce yourself to your savior, and he begins walking to god-knows-where.
– – –
Kamukura is, in fact, someone with a story. A batshit one, even.
Somehow, you manage to coerce him into spilling some things about himself. While he doesn’t remember much more than the past year or so, he does know that he was created as artificial talent by Hope’s Peak Academy by giving some poor Reserve Course student a lobotomy. (You’re upset on his behalf. What a dick move, Hope’s Peak.)
In return, you tell him a bit about yourself. Though, truthfully, there’s far less to tell than him. You’re a new university student, having barely made it past your second semester when everything went to shit. It’s unfortunate, really, but you do feel some semblance of peace without schoolwork constantly weighing down your shoulders.
Kamukura carries you everywhere, which really is everywhere, since you don’t have a destination, and he’s the wandering type. When not on the move, he provides you physical and occupational therapy by utilizing his many talents. Slowly, you gain more mobility in your lower half, but your legs still don’t cooperate enough to walk properly. When you suggest scouting out or making a wheelchair, he closes off.
You’ve gotten used to it, being looked after by a walking mystery. And if you didn’t know any better, you would say that you’ve both grown fond of each other.
(You contemplate kissing him by the fire one night.)
(You don’t. Your anxiety overtakes you.)
Judging by the day/night cycle, your time with Kamukura lasts for about three months before something changes. He’s particularly restless one morning from the moment you wake up, and he doesn’t elaborate when you ask him about it. You decide not to press.
It takes all day, but he ends up bringing you to the old Hope’s Peak Academy building, in all of its crumbling glory.
On the second floor, you arrive at a door that stands slightly ajar. It’s evidently a classroom, based on the remainder of desks scattering the place. From your minimal knowledge of Hope’s Peak, you know that this building was used for the Main Course students—the “Ultimates.” What would Kamukura have to do with classroom—You find the splintered remnant of a sign hanging from the wall—77-B?
Inside, he sets you down on the most intact chair. “Do you still have those flowers you found?”
The question takes you by surprise, but you nod and pull out the carefully-wrapped bundle: a daisy and a carnation. His luck had graced you with encountering the two in the remains of a flower shop the day before, so you’d taken special care to preserve them until you could find a good spot to replant them. It seems that he has another idea.
Kamukura grabs a vase from a shelf—again, has to be his luck for it to not be any worse than cracked—and gingerly places your flowers inside. He then sets it on a desk at the back of the room and slightly turns it, leaving a pretty array.
The pain that reaches his eyes alerts you to the truth—this is a memorial.
“…A friend of yours?” you ask as gently as you can.
“Chiaki Nanami. I believe she used to be a friend, before the Project.” Kamukura reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small hair clip, one with a pixelated spaceship. He rubs it between his fingers. “I watched her die at the hands of Junko Enoshima. I should have saved her. I was more than capable of doing so.”
“They took your emotions from you,” you counter. “Or at least they tried to. It’s not your fault you didn’t have the will to do it.”
“No, I am at fault. But at least Enoshima is dead now. She can no longer hurt the few people that I care about.” His meaningful gaze finds yours, and it shoots warmth through your body. “Would you mind giving a few moments of quiet? I have not been able to properly reflect on her like this until now.”
“Of course. Take as long as you need.”
And so he does.
Many minutes pass as Kamukura stares out the window into the setting sun, silent and somber. You watch him for a while, hurting by association, before you quietly pull out some paper and a pencil from your bag. Even if you can’t make this girl a headstone or something similar, you can make do and lay out a sign by the vase.
Chiaki Nanami, beloved friend and hero. Never forgotten.
While you fancy the lettering up a bit, something catches your eye from the doorway, forcing you to drop the pencil as you gasp. “K–Kamukura…!”
There stands a new face, a boy that can’t be much younger than you or your companion. His wide amber eyes are primarily locked on Kamukura, but they flicker to you with your outburst. With a suit and styled brown hair, you would have pegged him as a government agent or something, but he seems more nervous than anything.
You realize that you recognize him.
Kamukura turns sharply at your call, red eyes more murderous than they’d been in the past months, but they dull when they meet the newcomer’s. “Makoto Naegi. I understand that you’re here to apprehend me on behalf of the Future Foundation, along with the three dozen soldiers rapidly approaching our location.”
Naegi smiles in return, apologetic. “It’s, uh, good to meet you, Kamukura. But… yeah. Are you…?”
“I will not be running this time,” Kamukura assures him. “I will come quietly.”
You gape at the admission. “Wh—You’re—”
“On one condition.”
“O-Oh? Well, um, sure!” Naegi nods. “Sure. What is it?”
The walking mystery meets your gaze finally, and you hate the hesitancy in them. “My companion here is paralyzed in their lower half and requires medical attention. Physical therapy. Proper meals. I will only surrender if you take care of them as I have. They are not associated with my actions, and they are very important to me.”
Heat flies to your cheeks, but it does nothing to stop the pit from forming in your stomach.
The other seems surprised at Kamukura’s words, but he doesn’t voice it. Instead, his own apprehension melts away in favor of warm understanding. “I swear, we’ll take care of them as our own.”
“Then I surrender.”
“No,” you snap, pushing yourself up from the chair. Your weak legs wobble and threaten to give, but you hold yourself upright. “No, you can’t just leave me. Not after everything.” The desk is released in an attempt to step toward him, and your knees buckle beneath you.
He crosses the room in an instant, catching you under the arms before you fall completely and holding you to his chest. Your name comes out softly as he holds a hand to the side of your head like he did when you met. “I’ve known from the start that my path leads to the Future Foundation. It was a stroke of luck to come across a kind soul like yours along the way. Now I know that the Project could not strip me of all emotion; how else would I feel such fondness as this?”
“But I’m not gonna see you again, am I?”
“It is… unlikely, but not impossible. I won’t die, that much I am certain of. Stay with Naegi and his team until you’re better.”
“Kamukura—”
“That was not a request.”
You’re only faintly aware of the soldiers filing into the room as you hold his suit lapels tightly, stubbornly. They have to pull you from him like lovers separated in a war, and you’re handed off to Naegi as he apologizes to you.
Kamukura is escorted out of the building in restraints, and that’s the last you see of him.
Somewhere in the mess, a flower vase had been knocked over, its contents spilling onto the scorched classroom floor.
– – –
Given your questionable status within the Future Foundation, you’re kept in the dark about the Remnants as soon as they’re shipped off. Not that you expect much different, to be fair. No one trusts you from the moment you enter the facility, despite your lack of hostility and current physical handicap.
Speaking of, you’re quickly gifted a wheelchair for mobility purposes, but therapy is put on hold for the time being. It leaves your legs stiff and sore, even when you try to repeat the stretches Kamukura did with you.
You miss him, and you vocalize it often.
Asahina, a friend of Naegi’s, is in charge of monitoring you while her compatriots oversee the Remnants elsewhere. She does her best to keep you positive, and it only works sometimes.
You’re holding the pixel hair clip close one evening when your room’s monitor flickers on.
It shows the classroom Kamukura took you to, but it’s completely unscathed. Whole. Like the Tragedy never happened at all. You recognize the faces there from what little information you were given about the Remnants—Komaeda… Kuzuryu… Koizumi… all of them.
One girl introduces herself as Chiaki Nanami, and you gasp. Could it be…?
The final student enters the room, and your shock is completely overshadowed as you do a double-take. You know that face. It’s pinched with anxiety, not neutral, but you know it. You know those eyes. They’re olive green, not red, but you know them.
He calls himself Hajime Hinata, and you’re confused as hell.
Hina bursts into your room then, frantic and also confused as hell. She then spills their plan involving the Neo World Program, explaining the idea of blocking out Despair memories to heal their inner selves—or something like that—and clarifying that they did not expect Kamukura to revert to his pre-Project self.
You find that you like Hinata, but you wish he were Kamukura.
Then the killing game starts.
During your time with Kamukura, you’d witnessed the School Life of Mutual Killing, live on television, from start to finish. It was a horrific experience, and you weren’t even there. With the same bear in charge this time, the Remnants end up pressured to begin killing each other.
For the next three weeks, their numbers steadily decrease. You’re relieved that Hinata’s managed to make it this far.
As the program finally winds down, you catch wind of the Board’s displeasure of Naegi’s unauthorized actions. Hina manages to convince Togami to take you with him when he absconds, avoiding the fray, only for you to panic when one final killing game occurs among the Board and trial participants. Togami and his squadron rush to find their location, and you tag along on the helicopter ride to help with damage control.
To your surprise, Naegi insists that he and the others are fine and taken care of, and he points you in the direction of the seafront. You catch a glimpse of Class 77-B, and you take off in your wheelchair to meet them.
They’re piling onto a commandeered Future Foundation battleship, every one of them alive. It should be impossible for that to be the case, but you have a hunch.
You call out for Hinata, who startles, as you approach. Finally, sparing some room between you, your wheelchair comes to a stop. “So, um, you probably don’t know me, but I just…”
All words fail as you notice a distinct change about him—while one eye remains green, the other has taken on that sharp red you used to know. It’s the only thing truly Kamukura-like about him in appearance, but somehow it soothes you. There’s confusion in them, but only for a moment.
Hinata smiles, the warmth filling both eyes, and he says your name without prompt. “He told you he wouldn’t die, right?”
“Is he—”
“He’s in here. I think we have a lot to talk about. Do you think they’d mind if I borrowed you for a bit…?”
“Who the fuck cares?” You roll forward and past him to the ship’s ramp. “My transportation and protection is on this ship. If I’m a traitor, I’m a traitor. Munakata can fuck off.”
A laugh bubbles from him, and your heart flutters at the sound.
Even if he isn’t completely Kamukura, he’s still someone to lean on, both literally and figuratively.
He’s home.
I think there's been a glitch
Five seconds later, I'm fastening myself to you with a stitch
And I'm not even sorry
Nights are so starry, blood moonlit
It must be counterfeit
I think there's been a glitch
#Follower Event :D#salem's works#danganronpa#danganronpa x reader#izuru kamukura#izuru kamakura x reader#kamukura x reader#i hope this was okay anon <3#writers on tumblr
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カドぐだ | 相棒 (partner)
“So this is the rumored ‘Gil-fes’, huh?” Kaodc heaved a heavy sigh as he tugged at his black shirt before clutching at the strap of the backpack he had in hand. “Oi, Fujimaru, where’s the venue for this...tournament?”
According to the archives, someone hosts this... martial arts tournament for the Servants using a Holy Grail. And that someone was either Emperor Nero or King Gilgamesh himself... like last year, and the couple years before.
But who knows who was going to host next year’s event!?
Wait. Why is he thinking about the possibilities of an event like this in the future!?
Gudako hummed as she finished in tying her unlaced boots, “Well, Gil said it’s going to be at Madison Square Garden like last year. But for the rooms we booked in the nearest hotels? We have yet to find out!”
Her arm looped around his own and before he could react to it, they were off on the streets with his ever-reckless kouhai hollering like a maniac.
Please. Someone help him.
--
They ended up farming again throughout the whole ordeal, collecting hotdogs and fries as currency to exchange with Ishtar’s-former-consort-now-turned....golden sheep, Dumuzid.
And he thought Fujimaru was describing the god as someone humanoid! Jeez! Did he really interpret that wrong!?
Even with all the craziness he can’t quite get used to yet, it was actually fun.
And it even felt... a little normal since it felt as if it was the current timeline’s New York, just with some more colorful additions- and okay, he nearly got his face bashed by Spartacus for just getting shoved in front of him before getting declared as an oppressor for “standing” in his way.
So, on second thought, he wasn’t going to get used to this.
--
“Making Doujins!?”
“Yup!”
“Just to retrieve the Holy Grail and stop this time loop we’re stuck in!?”
“Uh-huh! So you better get your butt back to the drawing board, Kadoc-kun.” The way Gudako teased him with the honorific, and he felt faint about the situation.
They spent most of the week chilling and spent the last few days procrastinating. And somehow they discover along the way that time is repeating itself, with the reset being the day of judging the most popular doujin contest.
From across him Hinak- Yu Mei-ren seethes while glaring at her tablet, the pen she had on hand nearly cracking in her grasp, “If I don’t get back to Xiang Yu-sama within the week, I’ll blow this island up.”
Help.
--
“Fujimaru.”
“Yes, Kadoc-kun?”
Kadoc looks at the gothic, medieval castle, before reclining his head up to the large, upside-down pyramid, and the Himeji castle sitting on that same pyramid itself.
Kadoc blinks, and turns to look at the Master beside him, smiling as if this was something that could normally be seen in everday life.
“You know what? Nevermind.”
They were promptly turned into a wageslaves by the Amazonesdotcom CEO after that.
--
“Was it fun?”
Fujimaru asks him as she lightly kicks on the pool’s waters, watching it ebb and flow beneath them.
Kadoc sips on a cocktail Moriarty had given him, before pursing his lips shit, “What? The entire thing with Las Vegas? Jeanne d’Arc’s talking-shark? Wait, actually, that’s 42nd of the most weirdest things I’ve seen in my list.”
She rests her head on his shoulder, no doubt now sleepy as they spend the last few days of their vacation in the comfort of the hotel.
“...Something like that.” She says, after a few moments.
The question was...weird. Fun was a concept he was still becoming familiar with. After all, all he’s ever known was to become a mage to survive a world that could kill you at a moment’s notice.
Even with the near-death experiences, and things that could easily break a normal person’s mind (he had only gotten so far by being a mage who had a decent amount of spells with him that maintained his reason and sense of self. Fujimaru had none and yet she was still smiling despite the fuckery happening almost every moment of the day.), he supposes that...
“-I guess it was ugh, crazy...” Kadoc mutters under his breath, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks.
Some Servants didn’t trust him, others were the opposite, many varied in their opinions on him but at least, all of them no longer deemed him hostile. As evidence by how he’s somehow alive and breathing right now.
Fujimaru stirs, and they meet each others’ gazes. Her own was reflecting the stars above, a ghost of a smile spread across her lips, “Good crazy?”
He avoids her gaze and downs the last of his drink.
Her response was a chuckle. “I’ll take it that you don’t like the times whenever we rode on Drake’s ship or anything that involved motion sickness.”
Kadoc flicked her forehead, and while she yelped, there was no helping himself in pinching her cheek, “No shit Sherlock.”
“I am right behind you, Mr. Zemlupus.”
The heart attack he got simultaneously made him scream before pushing him and Fujimaru to the pool to drown.
When they surfaced, they both glared at the laughing detective relaxing on the pool chaise.
And seeing Ritsuka smirk deviously with a plan to prank the Holmes?
Kadoc was in.
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[First request! Warnings: cursing, mentions of blood/gore, body horror, death, unreality]
“Babe, check this out.”
Ace’s call makes you turn from where you’d been staring at a cloak, finding him holding something that he tosses to you for inspection. Catching it, you inspect it and find it to be a mask – made of smooth white plastic with deep, dark spaces for the eyes and a macabre, wide yawn of black for the mouth.
“Creepy,” you remark as you toss the mask back to him. “Like a kabuki mask, but way worse. Why do they have something like that for sale?”
“Dunno,” Ace answers, still studying the mask, tugging at the stretch of black fabric that covers the back of it. “Maybe it’s for some kind of festival. This island feels like they’d enjoy something like that, you know?”
“Maybe…” You trail off. Indeed, the island that the two of you have found yourself on is undoubtedly strange – from being undetected by the log pose to the almost too friendly attitude of the townsfolk that you’ve come across, something doesn’t sit quite right with you. Or perhaps you’re just being paranoid – if there were really something wrong, Ace would have picked up on it too, right? Shaking your head, you dismiss your thoughts and step away from the high-collared cloak you’d been examining. “We should probably find somewhere to stay.”
Ace doesn’t respond, still staring at the mask. You frown, approaching to snap your fingers in front of his face and he jolts, jerking back as if scalded. “Huh?”
“I said we should find somewhere to stay,” you repeat, studying your boyfriend’s expression with mounting concern. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Ace answers, and you don’t miss the way his gaze drifts back to the mask for a moment. “Just – yeah. Let’s go find somewhere to stay, okay? And something to eat.”
There’s the boyfriend you know and love – thinking with his stomach. You roll your eyes fondly, grateful when Ace finally lets go of the strange mask in favor of hooking his arm around your shoulders. Without the presence of prying eyes and people who recognize you, affection is easier, and you lean into his embrace.
Though the strange behavior from him is forgotten by the time you find accommodations for the night, the sense of unease about the island has returned, even as you watch Ace dig into the food before him with his usual gusto. It takes him a minute to realize that you aren’t eating, and he looks up. “Something wrong? Do you feel sick?”
“No,” you answer, though you set your fork down and lean back in the chair with a sigh. “Doesn’t this island just feel…off to you? I mean, the log pose didn’t even pick it up.” You gesture to the cuff around his wrist. “Is it still acting weird?”
Ace glances down at it, watching the shuddering spin of the needle with a frown as he swallows the food in his mouth. “It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, “and besides, the grandline is full of odd things.”
He has a point, but the sinking feeling of wrong won’t dissipate. “I don’t like this,” you say, brow furrowing. “Not one bit.”
“You worry too much.”
“You don’t worry enough,” you counter, and Ace grins before his expression sobers.
“I agree that this place feels weird, but–” He pauses as a smiling waitress sets down another wide platter of plates laden with steaming food, “it’s probably nothing. Just try to relax, okay? We’ll leave in the morning, and hopefully the log pose will have reset by then.”
Maybe you are being too paranoid, too accustomed to watching over your shoulder wherever you go, mindful of who you talk to and what you say for fear of inciting the Marine presence – but no matter how hard you try to buy into Ace’s reassurance, the unsettling feeling just won’t let up.
No longer able to stomach the idea of eating food, you scoot back and stand, Ace’s eyes following you. “I’m going to go explore a little more,” you say, “meet up with you in a little bit, okay?”
Swallowing another mouthful of food, Ace thumps his fist against his chest and exhales before he gives you a look of concern. “Just be careful,” he tells you, and you hope the smile you offer conveys confidence you don’t quite feel.
“I will, don’t worry.”
The sun has begun to set by the time you make it back into the center of town, the sky a melted blend of pastels that’s admittedly beautiful. Maybe Ace really is right – your paranoia has gotten the better of you, imagining problems where there are none.
You still as the unmistakable chill of being watched washes over you, tensing as you place a preemptive hand on the pistol at your hip. Training kicks in as you force yourself to resume walking, listening for signs of a presence other than your own.
Cold sweat beads at your temple as you force yourself not to spook at the skitter of rock beneath your feet, gaze carefully sweeping from side to side as you move to turn the corner – and come to an abrupt halt as the sick-sweet smell of rotting fruit reaches your nose.
It’s nauseating as you move to cover your mouth, searching for the source – an overturned trash can perhaps, a forgotten basket, groceries gone bad before they could be eaten. It’s a handful of steps before you spot the culprit – indeed, an overturned trash can, black plastic bags spilling their contents onto the ground. Half-eaten apples, strawberries white with mold, and –
Your stomach lurches.
The skyward jut of bloodied fingers, poking out of another bag that flies cluster around in dark, buzzing clouds. You know that smell too, of sun warmed blood and the bloat of decay –
Ace. You should go get Ace, figure out what to do, come up with a plan – you move forward, aware of the staccato beat of your heart in your ears as you approach the trash bag for a morbid inspection.
Nudging the mouth of it open further, your stomach finally gives a hard rejection, the swell of saliva the only warning you get before you’re forced to lurch away, hands and knees slamming against the ground hard as you vomit.
Your stomach doesn’t let up until you’re retching around nothing, gasping raggedly as your mind finally catches up with what you’ve just seen. A corpse, but not just any corpse – the face of the waitress who’d dropped off food to your table less than an hour ago, her eyes foggy and unseeing, coagulated blood at her hairline and lips. But how? There’s no way she could have been killed and look like that in under an hour – your stomach rolls again and you press the back of your fist to your mouth.
Something is very, very wrong with this island, this town –
Ace. You need to get him and get the hell out of here. Adrenaline filters through your veins as you scramble to your feet and turn, darting back in the direction that you’d come from. You don’t miss how the sky has darkened considerably, that most windows are dark now – snuffed out like candle flame and mocking you with the distortion of your own pale, frightened form as you dart past.
‘Gotta get out of here,’ you think, ‘even if it’s just to the other side of this fucking island–’
You collide with someone, hard. You let out a startled noise as you stagger back, correcting your balance and looking up, a reflexive apology on your tongue before relief floods you as you find yourself staring at your boyfriend’s back. “Ace,” you say, relief clear in your tone, “we need to get out of here, I just found–” You stop, realizing that he hasn’t turned to look at you. “...Ace?”
He finally shifts to turn towards you at the same time that you realize the back of his head is covered by black, gauzy fabric – and the dying sun gleams off of smooth, white plastic as your stomach drops.
It’s that fucking mask from the store.
“Ace,” you begin shakily, “take that off and listen to me, okay? I was right about this island, something is seriously wrong here, I just saw our waitress’ dismembered corpse in a trash can–” You pause, scowling as Ace’s head only tilts. “Aren’t you listening? I said to take that stupid thing off.”
You reach to yank it off, only for him to catch your wrist before you can touch it. There are a thousand situations you’ve been in where Ace has grabbed your wrist like this, but never has he gripped it so hard – hard enough to bruise, hard enough for it to hurt.
“Ace,” you snap, struggling to free your hand. “Let go of me!”
His head only tilts further, the tip of the mask now at an unnatural angle with the length of it – and you struggle harder as his other hand slips down to the leather sheath of his dagger. What is wrong with him? Surely he isn’t going to do what you think he is – there’s the flash of dying sun against gleaming silver, and your eyes widen.
“Ace, no!” Your shriek is desperate as you finally wrench yourself free of his grip in time to avoid the upward arc of the blade, stumbling backwards before you turn on your heel and bolt. You almost half expect him to pull ahead of you in a whirlwind of flame, but he doesn’t – and when you chance a glance back, he’s still standing there, knife in hand.
Your mind races as you duck into an alley, back pressed against rough stone as you try to catch your breath. What the hell is going on? That can’t possibly be your boyfriend – he’d never raise a hand against you, let alone a blade – had something happened to him while you were gone? Poison? No – mind control? Another devil fruit user?
Above your harsh breathing, you can hear something – and you jolt as you realize it’s your name, being called in a childish sing-song. “Where are youuuuu~ Come out and play~”
You clap a hand over your mouth and tuck yourself further into the alley, eyes narrowing as you watch the opening, reaching for your pistol once more. The idea of using it against your boyfriend makes you feel sick – but you can’t just let him kill you.
Ace moves to pass the alley way and you slink closer as quietly as you can, waiting until his back is to you to lunge forward, just as he turns. You collide, momentum sending you both to the ground – but you aren’t fast enough to pin his arms properly, the flash of silver the only warning you get before he’s sinking the dagger deep into your shoulder.
Blinding pain sears through you and you bite back a scream, struggling to swipe at the mask on his face. “This isn’t you,” you manage, fingertips hooking around white plastic. “Ace, you don’t have to do this–”
The mask comes free. Though the shock of black hair is Ace’s, the face that stares back at you is not your boyfriend’s. It’s a comical caricature made from the stuff of nightmares – dark, hollow holes where his eyes should be, a wide, gaping maw of black where you’re so used to seeing his bright, dazzling smile.
“What –” Your voice falters. “What are you? What did you do with Ace? Tell me, right now! Tell me what you did with him!”
Whoever – or whatever is wearing Ace’s face laughs. It’s far from his laugh, cruel and mocking as it twists the blade into your shoulder, using your recoil to its advantage as you find yourself pressed into the ground, the horrible thing above you.
“I killed him,” it rasps, voice unholy and making you want to do nothing more than to get away from it, though your efforts are greatly hindered by the amount of blood you’re losing, making your head spin and your limbs heavy. “And now I’m going to kill you.”
Helpless. You’ve never been so helpless against an enemy, unable to do much but writhe in pain and fear as the creature pulls the knife free, bringing it up to its wide, gaping mouth – and dragging a black, rotted tongue against the smear of bright red blood. It leans over you, reeking of rotten flesh and wet earth.
“You never should have come here,” it taunts you. “This island has become your demise, as so many before you.” There’s hard pressure at your throat, tight and making it impossible to breathe, sending your head spinning further and your vision darkening at the edges. So this is it, this is how you die –
“Wake up!”
The cry is sharp, familiar – and you lurch upright with a gasp, eyes wide and wild as you turn to find Ace watching you, his expression one of unfiltered concern. “There we go,” he says, “hiya, sleeping beauty.”
You stare for a long moment, becoming aware of the warmth of the sun on your cheeks, the soft grit of sand beneath your hands – you’re on a beach, Ace’s striker bobbing just a few feet away. Overhead, there’s the distant call of birdsong, high and sweet.
“Ace…” You lurch forward, his startled yelp of surprise in your ears as you latch onto him, arms locked tight around him as you tuck your face into his neck. “You’re okay.”
“Yeah,” Ace answers, “I’m perfectly fine. You’re the one I should be worried about.” His arms wind around you. “I went to take a look around here and when I came back, you were out cold in the sand. I thought somebody attacked you.” There’s audible relief in his tone, though he stills when he hears you sniffle. “Hey, hey, you okay? What happened?”
You press yourself further into him as much as physical limitation will allow, soothing your frayed nerves with the steady thump of his heartbeat. “Nothing,” you finally mutter. “Just a nightmare.”
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It's About Time, pt. 3
Part One | Part Two
“Who trained you?”
It was a question, but Kanan made it clear that an answer wasn’t optional.
Ezra didn’t answer.
He sat still and silent with his legs crossed, his elbows on his knees, and his hands folded under his chin, just like any meditating Jedi. At his side, sitting in the cargo bay—leaning against his side, actually—was Sabine, doodling in her sketchbook, as casual as if her being near someone and being comfortable near someone wasn’t the weirdest personality flip Kanan had ever seen.
What those two did today… it still boggled Kanan’s mind.
He’d never seen a child so powerful. He’d never seen Sabine so… normal.
She and Ezra knew each other well.
She knew he was a… Force-wielder.
But he had also been part of the Empire, along with her.
And given what he said about specialized training… and that lightsaber of his… Kanan had questions.
“Kid,” he said.
Abruptly, sharply, Ezra answered the previous question. “Nobody you would know.”
“Try me.”
Ezra ignored him.
“If you’re going to be part of this crew, kid, I need to know I can trust you.”
Now he flinched, visibly, and opened his eyes.
Sabine answered for him. “It doesn’t matter who taught him. I was an Imperial Cadet, and you still trust me. Why should it be different for him?”
“I trust you because I’ve seen that you can be trusted,” Kanan shot back, crossing his arms.
“If you trust me, do you trust that I trust him?”
Ezra gave her the saddest look Kanan had ever seen on anyone. “Sabine…”
“You don’t have to prove anything,” she said firmly.
“I kind of do.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. One of his hands reached out towards Sabine, almost instinctively, like he knew she would take it—and she did take it, lacing her fingers through his and holding on tightly.
“Kanan—have you ever—”
Ezra’s voice faltered, and Kanan saw Sabine’s grip on his hand get tighter.
“Ezra, you don’t have to do this.”
But the boy squared his shoulders, took a shaky breath, and met Kanan’s gaze.
“Have you ever heard of the Inquisitorius?”
#i figured since i didn't post a fic today i might as well share something!#It's About Time#the It's About Time AU#fic snippet#i guess#(it's not exactly a snippet since I'm posting the whole story piece by piece here)#star wars rebels#star wars au#kanan jarrus#ezra bridger#sabine wren#sabezra
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Friday, Diner Day - 2052
There was this old couple in the corner of the room, sitting on those high red vinyl stools, both short enough to swing their feet above the ground, the man’s a little lower. They’re both giggling like highschoolers and people couldn’t help but look fondly at them.
Sitting beside them was a young woman, her chin resting on her folded hands, cheeks flushed from laughter. She hung from every word the couple said, eyes full of stars and wishful daydreams.
“So, how did you two meet?” she asked and the older gentleman smiled crookedly, slanted eyes full of mirth.
“Funny story, really” the old lady laughed “Richard here was in a motorcycle gang and I needed a quick escape from the police.”
“Betty was fistfighting transphobes that got in the way of a march for trans rights. She jumped onto the back of my bike and yelled ‘run, I’ve got priors!’”
“I shoplifted a lot” Betty nodded, quickly adding “only from big corporations, of course!”
“She stole our first anniversary gift” Richard placed his hand on top of hers, matching wedding bands reflecting light on their ring fingers “She’s very sentimental.”
There was a horrified yet endeared look on the young woman’s face, misplaced admiration for the lasting love of those elderly ex-delinquents.
Love can really be found in the strangest of places, she mused, maybe I should join a gang.
***
“A motorcycle gang, Y/N, really?”
Friday was laundry day of the week, meaning you and Yoongi wore your weirdest, most mismatched clothes while folding shirts, the smell of his favorite fabric softener covering the room, sticking to the clean sheets.
“You would look good in one of those leather jackets. Also, being in a boy band is not that different from being in a gang”.
Yoongi threw an unknown piece of clothing at you “How would you know?”
“Well, I’ll have you know, Richard, that I used to be a prolific criminal in my day. The TV in the living room? Stole it.”
“From Walmart?”
“From Hybe.”
Yoongi’s giggles and gummy smiles still managed to fill your heart with a funny and unsettling sort of warmth even after decades of being exposed to it. You would never get used to it, never be impermeable or numb to his happiness as it was directly correlated to your own. Every loud laughter you managed to get out of him was a victory and you had been keeping score for thirty years.
Friday, Diner Day - 2022
Diner day was the best day of the week, Yoongi thought. Every possible Friday was spent with his best friends in the back of a poorly lit restaurant they found when they had very little money and way too many dreams. The whole place smelled of grease and sugar, but to him the sweetest thing was always behind the counter.
As usual, Yoongi excused himself from the table only minutes after arriving, leaving behind his hollering friends and walked over to you. You had flour on your head and icing covering your hands, hair pulled into a half-fallen bun with a single pencil running through it. That day, you wore about 3 thousand beaded bracelets and high tops, each foot clad in a different colored one.
“Yoongi” you greeted him cheerfully, pretty rosy lips stretched in a grin “You are back!”
Missed me?, he wanted to ask, but even after knowing you for so long he was still too shy, too unsure. His quiet way of pinning was annoying, sometimes impossibly painful to watch, but there was still some sort of comfort in keeping his cards close to his chest, safety in all the words he didn’t say.
“Uh, yes” he mumbled, voice soft and shy “Got back a few days ago. Thought I’d stop by.”
“That’s nice of you, we all really missed you here.”
Yoongi glanced at the rest of the staff in disbelief: a teenage girl chewing gum that looked like she would rather be anywhere else, half waitering and half bullying the clients; a middle-aged cook that spoke very broken korean and only ever answered anyone with a grimace and a college boy that Yoongi had never ever seen sober. “You all did?”
You shrugged, the picture of nonchalance except for your now bright red ears “Well, I did. It’s not the same without you here on fridays.”
Yoongi’s heart always came alive when you talked to him, but some days, the days when your kindness dripped out of every words and your casual compliments got to him, on those days his heart became an Olympic athlete and tried to jump out of his chest, following his barely working brain down the street, running away from his flustered, sweaty and non-responsive body.
“Ah,,,” he said smartly, right hand flying to rub the back of his neck. C’mon, Yoongi, he thought, you can say something nice to the girl you like “I missed you too” he forced the words out, smile bordering on a grimace.
“You’re just saying that cause I serve you food” there was a light blush hanging high on your cheeks now, bringing even more warmth to your completion and the sight made hope bloom in Yoongi’s chest.
Cause if he could cause that sort of reaction on you (you, who he once saw dump hot coffee on a guy’s lap for harassing the other waitress and yell at client for making fun of the cook’s accent) then maybe he had a shot. Maybe he could find a way to work around the impending doom cloud that loomed over him due to his celebrity status and just ask you out. Just a normal-ish guy with a crush on an extraordinary-ish girl.
#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts scenarios#bts fluff#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi#min yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader
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