#weirdest I’ve ever seen him sit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andvys · 2 years ago

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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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dreamwatch · 9 months ago

Text

Turn The Page

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

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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megumismyhusband · 6 days ago

Text

it happens after school. the sun’s setting, the pavement’s still warm, and you’re sitting on a bench near the back gate—right where the breeze always hits just right. your bag’s beside you, your skirt’s neatly pressed, and there’s a soft little snack pack open in your lap.

there’s also a ghost. sitting next to you.

you don’t react. you never really do.

you felt it approach, sure—the brush of air that wasn’t quite wind, the tiny prickle at the back of your neck. but you’re used to it.

you don’t see them.

you don’t hear them.

but you feel them.

you’ve always been able to.

across the path, a group of boys are walking by, half talking over each other. one of them glances over. kanzaki, maybe? you’ve seen him around.

he slows down, stares, then nudges the tall one beside him. “there’s a ghost next to her.”

you don’t hear that part. you’re too busy trying to open your juice box without stabbing the straw straight through the other side.

they all glance over. pause.

you look so calm. like you don’t notice a thing.

zaki mutters something about you being popular. says there’s no way someone like you would be interested in a club like theirs.

eugene raises a brow. tamon shrugs.

mogari just says, “i’m asking anyway.”

and the next second, he’s walking up to you.

no hesitation. no dramatic lead-in.

you blink up when he casts a shadow over your snack pack.

“…uh. hi?”

“do you want to join a ghost club?”

his tone is completely flat.

you stare at him. “what.”

he points to the spot beside you. “there’s a ghost next to you.”

you glance down. blink.

“…yeah?”

“you didn’t freak out,” he says. “most people freak out.”

you poke the air next to you.

“i can’t see them. but they’re kinda… cold. like misty? and i always know when they’re there. it’s just this weird feeling.”

you pause. “kinda like when someone stares at you for too long, you know?”

mogari looks at you like he wasn’t expecting you to get it.

like maybe he thought you’d laugh at him.

but you’re not. you’re being completely serious.

“…we could use someone like you,” he says after a beat.

you smile a little, still holding your juice box. “wow, this the weirdest club invite i’ve ever gotten.”

“is that a yes?”

“hmm… depends. do i get snacks?”

“…maybe.”

you laugh. a real one. kind of bright. kind of dorky.

and mogari just blinks at you, expression unreadable.

back with the others, zaki stares like he’s seeing a ghost too.

he’s not.

just you.

talking to mogari like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

like you were always meant to be part of this.

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supernaturallyafreak · 2 months ago

Text

Peanut Butter Bunker || February 5, 2025

By Haden: @Supernaturallyafreak || #Destiel

Dean sat in the library, leaning back in one of the creaky office chairs, a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich in his hand and another one sitting on the table in front of him. He’d been thumbing through a lore book, but his attention kept drifting to Castiel, who was pacing nearby with his usual quiet intensity.

Castiel stopped, tilting his head as if considering something deeply. “Dean,” he began, his voice calm but curious, “why do humans often sit on each other’s laps? I’ve seen it depicted in your television shows, often in moments of intimacy or amusement.”

Dean froze mid-bite, eyebrows shooting up as he turned to look at Castiel. “Uh… well, I mean, it’s not something you usually ask about. It just kinda… happens. You sit on someone’s lap when you’re close, I guess.”

Castiel nodded thoughtfully, and before Dean could fully process what was happening, Castiel stepped forward and perched himself on Dean’s lap, his movements precise but somehow endearingly awkward. “Like this?”

Dean sputtered, nearly dropping his sandwich as Castiel settled his weight on him. “Cas! What—what’re you doing?” Dean’s voice cracked with a mixture of surprise and laughter, his free hand hovering in the air as if he didn’t know where to put it.

“You said it just happens,” Castiel replied, his tone entirely serious, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. “I wanted to understand the significance. Is this appropriate?”

Dean stared at him for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form a response. “I mean… I guess? You don’t just—people don’t usually announce it first, Cas. They just… do it.”

“I see.” Castiel nodded solemnly, then adjusted slightly, getting more comfortable in Dean’s lap as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Dean groaned, shaking his head, but there was a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” He leaned back, balancing Castiel’s weight with surprising ease. “If you’re gonna park yourself there, at least make yourself useful. Hand me the other sandwich.”

Castiel reached over, grabbing the second sandwich from the table and passing it to Dean with a small, satisfied smile. “Does this fulfill the requirements of sitting on one’s lap?” he asked, his voice steady but with a hint of what might have been amusement.

Dean laughed, shaking his head as he took the sandwich. “Yeah, Cas. You nailed it.” For a moment, they sat there in companionable silence, Dean munching on his sandwich and Castiel perched comfortably in his lap, his curious gaze wandering around the room.

“You know,” Dean said after a while, his voice light, “this is probably the weirdest peanut butter break I’ve ever had.”

Castiel tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Weird… but not unwelcome?”

Dean chuckled, leaning back and resting his hand on the arm of the chair. “Not unwelcome, Cas. Not at all.”

#supernatural #dean winchester #destiel #castiel #deancas #dean x castiel #spnfandom #sam winchester #spn deancas #spn rewatch #spn castiel #spn fanfic #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas fic #spn fic

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pilot-boi · 10 months ago

Note

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.”

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #mine #my writing #asks #ftkicker98 #healing rust au

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superiorsturgeon · 2 years ago

Text

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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pucktoxicity · 8 months ago

Note

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 🥰💋❤️

#hockey gossip #team information

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princesskenny1998 · 6 months ago

Text

Ghostbusters | Trevor Spengler x f!goth!reader ~ Tinder

You sat cross-legged on your bed, absentmindedly scrolling through Tinder, not expecting much. Your profile bio was a carefully curated reflection of your interests: “Goth girl, into the occult, lover of all things spooky. New to New York, but old to weirdness.” You weren’t exactly looking for a deep connection, more like curiosity about who would match with you in a city like New York. But then, a profile caught your eye: Trevor.

His bio was quirky, almost charmingly awkward: “Ghosts aren’t just stories, and neither are we. I like fixing up old cars and talking about the paranormal. Let’s see if we vibe?” You chuckled at his attempt to blend his interests into something conversational. His pictures showed a lanky guy with messy dark hair, a crooked smile, and an unassuming vibe that drew you in. There was something about him that felt... different.

With a smirk, you swiped right, not expecting much. But then, the screen lit up: It’s a match!

You blinked, a little surprised, but also intrigued. Before you could overthink it, a message from Trevor popped up.

Trevor: “So, goth girl into the occult... Would it be too cliché if I asked what your favorite ghost story is?”

You smiled, typing back quickly.

You: “Depends. Do you believe in them? Ghosts, I mean.”

A few moments later, another message popped up.

Trevor: “I’ve seen enough to say yes. Though I prefer to think of them as more than just stories—more like unfinished business.”

That response made you pause. He didn’t come off as the usual skeptic, and he wasn’t mocking either. You decided to keep the conversation going.

You: “Interesting take. Most guys would roll their eyes at that. So, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Over the next few days, you and Trevor exchanged messages about all things paranormal, from ghostly encounters to occult symbols and haunted places around New York. You found yourself genuinely looking forward to his texts, and his strange, almost naive enthusiasm about the supernatural world was refreshing.

As the week progressed, he eventually worked up the courage to ask you out.

Trevor: “I know we’ve been chatting about weird stuff, but maybe we could grab a coffee or something and talk about ghosts in person? I know a great spot that’s supposedly haunted... no pressure.”

You stared at your phone, chewing your lip. You’d been in New York long enough to know that dating here could be a disaster, but Trevor had this awkward charm that intrigued you. Besides, it wasn’t like you had anything better to do.

You: “Sure. I’m in. When?”

The date was set for Saturday afternoon, and you spent way too much time deciding on an outfit. Settling on a black lace top with ripped jeans, you felt like it struck the right balance between goth and casual—something that would hopefully show Trevor you were serious about your style but not trying too hard. You added your favorite pentagram necklace and smudged eyeliner to complete the look.

You agreed to meet at a small café in Manhattan, one that Trevor had mentioned was rumored to be haunted by the ghost of an old jazz singer. When you arrived, you immediately spotted Trevor sitting at a table by the window, nervously tapping his fingers against the side of his coffee cup. He looked up just as you walked in, and his crooked smile spread across his face, making your heart skip a beat. There was something undeniably endearing about him.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” he stood up a little awkwardly as you approached.

“That’s me,” you said, giving him a small smile. You noticed he had dressed down—jeans, a band tee, and a worn-out jacket that gave him a relaxed, almost boy-next-door vibe. You liked that he wasn’t trying too hard.

You sat down across from him, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence as you both tried to find the right thing to say. But soon enough, Trevor broke the ice with a story about how his family was connected to the original Ghostbusters and how weird things had been happening at their old firehouse recently. He seemed genuinely passionate about it, though there was a hint of self-deprecation in the way he spoke, like he was used to people not taking him seriously.

“You’re joking, right? Like *the* Ghostbusters?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your coffee.

“Yeah, my grandfather was one of them,” Trevor said, looking a little sheepish. “I know it sounds crazy, but... it’s real. I mean, we live in the firehouse now, and, well, weird stuff happens.”

You blinked, processing that bit of information. Of course, you’d heard of the Ghostbusters—the stories about them were legendary. But Trevor being connected to them? That added a whole new layer to your interest in him.

“That’s... wow. That’s kind of insane,” you said, leaning forward a bit. “So, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen at the firehouse?”

Trevor’s face lit up as he launched into a story about a ghost that had manifested in the middle of the night, knocking things over in their kitchen. As he spoke, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes sparkled with excitement, how his smile grew wider with every detail. It was clear that the paranormal wasn’t just a passing interest for him—it was something deeply ingrained in his life.

You found yourself laughing more than you expected, the conversation flowing easily as Trevor’s nervousness began to fade. By the time you both finished your drinks, it felt like you had known him for longer than just a few Tinder messages.

“Well, I guess if anyone’s going to believe in ghosts, it’s going to be you,” you teased as you stood up to leave.

“Yeah, it kind of comes with the territory,” he chuckled. “But, uh, I had a really good time today. I’m glad you agreed to this.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you found yourself smiling again. “Yeah, me too. You’re not as awkward as I thought you’d be.”

Trevor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

There was a brief moment of silence as you both stood outside the café, the bustling sounds of the city filling the space between you. You glanced down at your phone, realizing you didn’t want the night to end just yet.

“Hey,” you said, looking back up at him. “How about we take a walk? There’s this park nearby that’s supposed to have a haunted fountain. Wanna check it out?”

Trevor’s face lit up again, and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

As you walked through the park, the conversation turned more personal. Trevor asked about your interest in the occult, and you explained how you’d always been fascinated by the supernatural, even as a kid. You told him about the old, dusty books you’d read on spells and ghost stories, and how you’d dabbled in tarot readings for fun. He listened intently, never once making you feel weird about it.

In return, he shared more about his family and he admitted that he was still figuring things out, that he didn’t quite know where he fit into the whole Ghostbusters thing yet.

“I guess it’s hard, being connected to something so... kinda legendary,” you said softly, glancing over at him as you walked.

“Yeah,” Trevor said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s like... I don’t want to be just the ‘Ghostbusters guy,’ you know? I want to be more than that. But at the same time, it’s kind of cool to be part of something bigger.”

You nodded, understanding more than you thought you would. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty cool on your own.”

Trevor glanced over at you, his cheeks turning a little pink. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.”

The two of you continued walking in comfortable silence, the city lights casting long shadows across the park. You couldn’t help but feel a growing connection to Trevor, a warmth in your chest that hadn’t been there before. There was something about him—his genuine nature, his passion for the strange and unknown—that drew you in more than you’d expected.

Eventually, you reached the fountain Trevor had mentioned, and the two of you sat down on a nearby bench. The conversation continued, light and easy, until the night began to grow late.

“I should probably head home,” you said reluctantly, glancing at the time.

“Yeah, me too,” Trevor agreed, though he didn’t seem in any rush to leave.

As you both stood up, there was a brief moment of hesitation. You weren’t sure what to say, how to end the night. But then Trevor spoke up, his voice a little more serious than before.

“Hey, Y/N... do you, um, maybe want to do this again sometime?” he asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your stomach. “I’d like that.”

And before you could second-guess yourself, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. “Here, let me give you my number.”

Trevor grinned, taking your phone and entering his own number in return. As you parted ways that night, you couldn’t help but feel like something special had just begun.

#ghostbusters #trevor spengler #after life #frozen empire #trevor spengler x reader

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tortillamastersblog · 5 days ago

Text

Just A Nobody - Part 6 | Mabel

Pairing: Mabel x reader

Warnings: mentions of substance abuse and addiction, and swearing

Summary: You never wanted to return to New Bedford, but when your dad relapses, you’re forced to go back for the summer and work to earn some money to pay for his rehab.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

I didn’t actually end up going home after all. I drove there, yes, but then I thought about what would be waiting for me when I went inside – the mess I haven’t cleaned up yet and my dad, probably hungover as hell and moody– and I decided to go straight to the café instead.

I’m just finishing up my shift, sweeping the floor while the late afternoon sun streams in through the windows, bathing the whole place in a golden glow. Karen’s somewhere in the back, going through inventory.

She didn’t comment on what happened or why I’m back earlier than planned, but she did eye me with some confusion when she noticed my clothes were still a little damp from when Mabel pulled me into the shower fully dressed. Just like she didn’t mention me coming home early though, she didn’t mention that either. She just gently told me what needed to be done, and that was that.

I’ve got to be honest, I feel kind of disgusting still wearing the same clothes from last night, and I’m looking forward to finally showering, but the thought of my dad waiting at home, and the mess that’s still there, makes me sweep and clean a little slower than I could be.

After a few more minutes, there’s literally nothing left to clean, so I put the broom away and head into the back to tell Karen I’m leaving.

She looks up from her clipboard, standing next to a shelf full of flour and sugar and smiles kindly.

“It’s about time. I told you you could’ve left three hours ago,” she scolds playfully, which just makes me smile tiredly.

“I know, but I needed the distraction,” I admit, and her smile fades just a little.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asks gently.

I shake my head. I already told Mabel and it drained me, so no, I don’t want to talk about it again, especially not right before going home where I’ll have to face the music.

“Okay then,” she says, accepting my answer without pushing. “Have a good evening. I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

I nod, and she squeezes my forearm for a second before going back to her clipboard. I turn and leave after untying my apron and hanging it up on the back of the door.

The air outside smells like it always does, salty and a little fishy because of the docks nearby, and I sigh, climbing into my dad’s truck and starting the drive home.

I keep thinking about the way Mabel comforted me last night. How I actually managed to open up to her, even though we barely know each other. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and the weirdest part is… I trust her. It’s not logical. It’s not earned. But it’s there, sitting warm and heavy in my chest, and I’m holding onto it because she’s felt more like home in the past twenty-four hours than anyone else has in years.

I know I have Dan and Karen, and I’m grateful for them. I really am, but I don’t tell them everything. They’ve got their own lives, their own worries, and they know my dad. I’ve seen the way their expressions change when I bring him up, and I don’t want to make it worse. With Mabel, it’s different. With her, it feels like I don’t have to explain myself. Like she’s got her own demons too, and maybe we don’t have to fight ours alone if we’re both already carrying them.

When I pull into the driveway and step out of the truck, I stretch and run a hand through my hair, dragging my feet up to the door. I check my phone out of habit. A text from Charlie—nothing new about the site. I ignore it and pocket my phone before going inside.

The second I walk in, the smell of stale beer and something bitter hits me. I sigh and drop my bag by the door.

“Dad?”

No answer. Just the hum of the fridge and the low buzz of the lights.

“Dad? I’m home.”

Still nothing.

I stand there for a second, hoping I’ll hear a groan or movement, but the apartment stays quiet. He’s probably still at the bar or crashed somewhere. I swallow the frustration and toe off my shoes. There’s no time to spiral over it right now. I’ll shower, start my laundry, put away my stuff from the boat, and maybe go look for him later.

I pick up my bag and round the corner.

And then I see him.

“Dad?”

He’s on the kitchen floor.

The bag slips from my hand and thuds on the floor as I drop to my knees.

“Dad!” My voice breaks as I reach for him, rolling him onto his back, and I feel my stomach twist.

His shirt is soaked. There’s vomit on the floor and in his beard. He’s cold to the touch and his lips are tinged with blue, his breathing shallow and uneven.

“Dad, come on.” I tap his cheek. Once, twice. Nothing.

My hands are shaking as I fumble for my phone, already dialing 911. My voice stumbles through the words as I cradle his head in my lap, trying not to panic.

The woman on the line talks me through it. I check his mouth, make sure there’s no blockage, then turn him on his side, trying to keep him steady while watching his chest rise and fall. She tells me to be ready to do compressions if his breathing stops which makes my heart drop.

Luckily I don’t have to do anything but watch him breathe though because five minutes later, the paramedics are there. I open the door with numb hands, then step back and let them in. They move fast, efficiently, checking vitals, fitting the oxygen mask, and asking me when I last saw him.

I tell them I wasn’t home last night which makes them nod and keep working, and before I know it, they’re loading him onto a stretcher.

One of them asks if I want to ride with them. I normally wouldn’t, but my legs feel like jelly and my head’s still spinning, so I just nod and follow.

In the ambulance, I sit with my hands clenched together, watching the paramedic check my dad’s pulse, and watching the rise and fall of his chest. They stick defibrillator pads to him, just in case which makes me look away. There’s a lump growing in my throat and it burns.

This is my fault.

If I’d come home last night instead of staying at Mabel’s… If I hadn’t let myself feel something good for once…Maybe I would’ve found him sooner. Maybe I could’ve stopped this.

But I didn’t.

And now I’m sitting here, watching the only parent I have left get smaller and smaller beneath all the wires and tubes and machines. I can’t turn back time. I can’t fix it. I just have to sit here and watch and pray, even though I don’t believe in God.

I keep thinking about the last things I said to him. How he asked me to watch Breaking Bad and I blew him off. How we argued about going back out to sea. What if that’s it? What if those were our last moments?

He’ll think I hated him, but I didn’t. I never did and I still don’t.

I hate the drinking, I hate what it’s done to him, I hate that I’ve had to be the adult since I was fifteen, and I hate the way it’s broken both of us, but I love him. Even now. Even when it hurts more than it heals.

A hand on my shoulder makes me shoot up in my seat, and my eyes fly open.

"I'm sorry," a nurse says, and I relax when I remember I'm in the waiting room of the hospital. It's been about three hours since I got here, and I must have fallen asleep while I waited for the doctors and nurses to take care of my dad. They immediately rushed him to the ICU, and I was actually going to follow them, but then the same nurse that just woke me stopped me with a gentle smile and told me I couldn't go after them.

"It's okay," I croak, running a hand down my face in an attempt to wake myself up. "How's my dad?"

I feel absolutely filthy in my clothes, and I'm tired and overcome with guilt, but all of that is overshadowed by the worry I have for him.

The young nurse takes a seat next to me and lowers his voice so the elderly woman across from us doesn’t overhear, even though she seems to be in her own world of worry right now. Maybe she’s here for her husband, who's got God knows what that made her come to the hospital a little past eleven.

"We've sedated and intubated him because his breathing wasn't strong enough," he says, and my eyes briefly drop to the keychain around his neck, where his ID is clipped, revealing that his name is Henry. "He's stable for now," he goes on, "and we've already run an MRI to rule out brain swelling, but they're still keeping a close watch on him in the ICU. You can see him soon, but he won't be awake for a while."

"Okay, thank you," I say, sinking back into the chair with a shaky exhale.

Henry sends me another soft, gentle smile before leaving, but I don't reciprocate it. Not because he isn’t kind or I think they’re not doing enough, but because I literally just can’t.

This morning, I felt light for the first time since coming back to New Bedford. Talking to Mabel, just having the space to be me for once, felt like a breath of fresh air. I was going through our date plans for tomorrow all day during my shift at the café, but then reality had to slap me in the face once again and make me feel nauseating guilt for spending the night at Mabel’s in the first place instead of being home when my dad got back so I could have called for help earlier.

I go to close my eyes again, to once again wallow in self-pity and grief, when my phone pings. It's another text from Charlie, but unlike his earlier one when he said there was no news about the site, he’s now texted that a court date is being set for Tuesday and that Tom is going to be the only one who goes in. And then, right after, he texts again, asking if I've been doing okay and if I want to come to his parents' house sometime over the weekend for dinner, and that I can even bring Mabel if I want to, as if we're some kind of couple.

I stare at it in disbelief for a moment, anger flashing through me at him even suggesting that, as if everything didn't just turn to shit. But then I feel that anger falter as quickly as it appeared because he doesn’t know what's happening and he's just trying to reach out.

I don’t have the time to hang out though, because I have to work to get ahead on the money I might have to chip in to get the site back. And now, also because of the hospital bills that are definitely going to pile up along with all the other bills at home.

I pocket my phone without answering and watch the woman opposite me again, getting news from a different nurse that seems to be good because she starts crying and smiling before being led away, leaving me alone in the waiting area while doctors and nurses bustle around.

I shut the door behind me with a soft click and lean back against it with my eyes closed. It's a little past six in the morning, and all I want to do is sink to the floor and cry, or sleep, or both. But I can't. I can't because I have to shower and go to work. A little after Henry left, he came back and took me to see my dad, and when I saw him unconscious, intubated, and looking like a literal ghost, I almost collapsed. I sat with him for hours, telling him about what happened with the site and how Tom's going to have to go to court over it. I even admitted to him that I knew going out fishing wasn't the smartest move and that I was sorry we fought, even though I knew he probably wouldn't remember any of what I said when he woke up. If he wakes up...

I flinch at the thought but push myself off the door to shower and finally get out of my clothes. The doctors said I should go home to get some rest when they found me half asleep next to my dad hours after Henry brought me to him, and that they'd call me if things changed with him, so I agreed and left. But not to sleep. No, it's like I said, I have to work. Not just because of the money, but because of the distraction it offers.

I stumble to the bathroom, finally strip off all my clothes, and take a quick shower before getting dressed again in some jeans and a simple shirt, not forgetting to put on my glasses again because I can’t handle putting in contacts right now. A quick look in the mirror makes me cringe at the dark circles under my eyes and the exhaustion written all over my face, so I quickly look away again and pull out my phone to shoot Charlie a quick text that I don't have time to see him this weekend.

Then I clean the kitchen and living room, gagging at the smell of my dad’s vomit and the moldy takeout boxes on the coffee table before heading out of the apartment.

I take my dad’s truck to the café and head inside. Karen and Jules, one of my coworkers, are already there. Karen vanishes into the back right as I get inside, while Jules just shoots me an amused look and raises an eyebrow.

"Rough night?" she chuckles, but I don’t reciprocate it. I just mumble, "Yeah, something like that," and brush past her to get my apron from the back.

Karen is just taking a batch of cookies out of the oven and smiles at me over her shoulder, but as soon as her eyes settle on me, her smile fades, clocking that something is wrong instantly.

"What is it?" she asks quietly, putting the cookies down and approaching me, lifting her hands to cup my face. But I turn away before she can and put on my apron, whispering, "I can’t, Karen. Not right now..."

"Y/N—"

I just shake my head and head back to the front, feeling my throat burn with unshed tears. I can’t afford to break down right now.

When I get out front, Jules is just finishing arranging the pastry display case. She gives me another smile, but this time it’s less teasing, and simply hands me a coffee and a blueberry muffin before I can say anything.

I thank her quietly and sip on my coffee, also taking one bite of the still-warm muffin before moving around the counter to take the chairs off the tables.

The café is set to open in a few minutes and there’s still a lot to do, so once I’m done with the chairs, I wordlessly help Jules set up the coffee while Karen pops her head in from the back every couple of minutes with a concerned look on her face. Every time her eyes meet mine, I quickly look away, and then the cafe opens and the morning rush begins.

"Y/N?"

I’m in the back, grabbing a box of new to-go cups from the top shelf, trying not to knock anything else down, when Karen sticks her head in.

"Yes?" I ask, finally getting the box down and turning around. It's almost half past nine now, and the morning rush is finally over, which has given me the opportunity to slip into the back for a breather under the guise of getting the cups.

For a moment, I'm worried Karen is going to want to talk again, but then she just says, "There's someone out here asking for you."

I shift the box in my arms and raise my eyebrows. "Who?"

Karen shrugs, and even though I can still see the worry in her eyes, there's a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "I don't know her name, but it's that girl I saw you talking to during your shift the other morning."

Mabel.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks. Is it okay if I take a little break?" I ask quietly, setting the box down, and Karen just nods and pats me on the shoulder on my way past.

I’ve honestly not thought about Mabel or our date later tonight ever since I saw my dad in his hospital bed, but now that I know she's here and she asked for me, I can't help but feel a little nervous because everything is just getting to be too much. I don't know if I can go on that date with her when I should be working, or when I know my dad is in the hospital, fighting for his life.

Don't get me wrong, I like Mabel. Like, really like Mabel. It actually kind of scares me. But right now, I don’t know if I can be there for her the way she expects me to be.

I already bombarded her with all my drama and trauma, and now this? My dad in the hospital because he literally almost drank himself to an early grave—still might? She deserves so much better.

I wipe my suddenly clammy hands on my apron and head back into the front of the café, where I instantly spot Mabel sitting in her usual seat by the window with her back turned to me.

Jules sees me stop in my tracks for a moment and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, but I just ignore it and hesitantly make my way over to her.

"Hey, you." I slowly slide into the seat in front of her, feeling my heart flutter when she looks up and a smile instantly blooms on her face.

"Hi!" She closes the notebook she was scribbling in and places her hands on top of it. "Busy morning?"

"Mhmm." I hum and try to smile, but it falls flat, and just like Karen, Mabel clocks it instantly. Her smile falters and a crease forms between her eyebrows, but she doesn’t ask about it. Not yet. Instead, she takes a moment before asking, "So, you ready for our date later or are you getting cold feet?"

I know she probably means it as a joke to lighten the mood, but it strikes the exact nerve I was worried about, and I actually cringe, which makes her drop her apparent resolve not to pry.

"What is it?" she asks.

I swallow thickly and wring my hands in my lap. "I actually have to work at the shop this afternoon—pick up an extra shift."

Mabel blinks, surprised, and hurt flashes across her face as she sits up a little straighter, probably thinking I changed my mind because of something she did. So I’m quick to go on before she can overthink anything.

"It’s not because of you, I swear. It’s just..." I avert my eyes. "My dad..." My throat closes and I swallow harshly again, but before I can go on, Mabel asks, "Your dad? Is he okay?"

I shake my head, still keeping my eyes trained on the table. "Not really, no. He’s—he’s at the hospital. I found him passed out in his own pool of vomit last night when I got home from work, and..." Tears spring to my eyes and I blink rapidly to get rid of them. "They had to sedate and intubate him."

"Fuck..." I look up, glassy-eyed, to see Mabel staring at me with wide eyes.

"Yeah... fuck," I agree quietly, quickly wiping at my cheek when a single tear rolls down. "I have to pick up extra shifts in the next couple of days to cover his hospital bills. And then there’s this whole thing with Charlie and Tom and the others and the site and... and—"

"Hey." Mabel takes one of her hands off her notebook and slips it under the small table to grab one of mine. "It's okay. You don’t have to explain. I get it."

I press my lips into a thin line and nod, feeling my eyes well with fresh tears. I'm just so glad the tables around us are unoccupied, and both Karen and Jules are too busy at the counter to notice my distress.

"I'm sorry."

"No." Mabel shakes her head, her dark eyes filled with so much understanding and compassion it tugs at my heart. "Don't apologize. It's okay. We'll just reschedule, yeah?"

Still feeling like I might just be too much for her but clinging onto this one good thing in my life nonetheless, I mumble a quiet, "Yes please. Thank you for understanding."

"Of course." Mabel squeezes my hand before letting go and looking around to make sure no one is watching, then cups my face and uses her thumb to swipe a tear off my cheek. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes before opening them again and gently taking her hands off my face.

"I'm really sorry, but I have to get back to work," I say quietly, rubbing my thumbs over her knuckles.

She hums and nods, squeezing my hands. "It’s okay."

I exhale shakily and squeeze back before letting go and getting back to my feet. I’m about to walk away when Mabel tugs on the back of my shirt, making me stop in my tracks.

She grabs the front of my apron and pulls me down, pecking my lips and taking me by surprise before sending me off with, "You know where to find me if you wanna talk or just get away from everything for a while."

It takes me by surprise, even though she’s been this soft with me before. But we’re in public right now, and I wasn’t expecting this kind of display of affection when she’s usually more sarcastic and aloof. It also makes me realize that even though we haven’t known each other that long, I’m already in too deep to just freeze her out now because I think she deserves something better.

So I just nod and thank her quietly before getting back to work.

_______________________________________________

Part 6 is finally done! I'm sorry it took so long to write. I've just been low on inspiration for this story lately.

Anyway, I hope you liked it <3

Tag list: @idontliketoread2137

#x reader #mabel x reader #mabel black label #finestkind #mabel finestkind

19 notes · View notes

thebusytypewriter · 2 years ago

Note

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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