#detention au part 2

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐋 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ! ! (𝒮𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒜𝑀𝒪𝒰𝒞𝐻𝐸)

student council president! scaramouche x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ modern au / highschool au ﾉ creampie ﾉ blowjob ﾉ fingering ﾉ clit play ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ biting ﾉ public sex (sex in school) ﾉ praise kink ﾉ hate sex (?) ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread !꒰๑´ᗜ`꒱*›◡‹꒱꒱

i loveee school au's . . . scara strikes me as one of those cocky, super smart student council presidents who thinks he knows everything ,, however, he also gives me delinquent always getting in 2 fight vibes ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

The snarky bastard. You couldn't help but glare at him, the smirk on his face only further fueling the fire that raged within you. Scaramouche, the student council president and the biggest, nastiest bitch you had ever met. He flaunted his status as the council president, his influence and wealth. Everyone loved him, and it infuriated you to no end. Even if his words had a way of cutting through you, a barb hidden within every statement, the way he made your heart race was what got you the most.

Your hatred for him was palpable, the tension between the two of you nearly suffocating. And he loved it. He lived for it, the way you would sneer at him, the way you'd bite back. Getting you in trouble was the best part. Watching as you fumed, as you glared, as you were reprimanded and scolded was a high like no other. It was addicting, watching you suffer, watching as you fell from grace, the power dynamic between the two of you skewed in his favor. You were always looking for a fight, and he was always willing to give you one.

Today was no different.

You sat in the empty classroom, accompanied by your oh so favorite person. Detention, again. It seemed as though he was the only one who had a knack for getting you in trouble. He knew exactly how to press your buttons, exactly which buttons to push. Your temper was your greatest weakness, and he exploited it to his benefit. It was the same shit, day after day. You were both so caught up in your hatred of each other that you hadn't realized the mutual pining. But that was besides the point.

"Well, well, well. Looks like someone's been naughty," he taunted, a grin curling the edges of his lips, his gaze boring holes into the side of your face. You didn't bother responding, your teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek. You couldn't deny that he was attractive, no, he was downright gorgeous, and it only served to piss you off even more. He was an asshole, through and through, and his looks only made him that much more appealing. The urge to smack the look off his face was almost too much, but you had a feeling that would only earn you a harsher punishment.

He stood up, slowly making his way towards you. You refused to make eye contact, knowing full well that the look he was giving you was absolutely predatory. His fingers gripped your chin, the touch light, and your eyes snapped up to his. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, slut." The words were hissed, and the nickname stung, even if it caused a small thrill to go through you. He had called you so many things, but that was a new one. His voice was a low rumble, the look on his face downright evil. "You know, I would really hate to have to punish you. Again."

"Maybe if you would stop harassing me, I wouldn't be here." You were quick to retort, glaring up at him with a scowl. His eyes widened for a moment before he laughed, the sound mocking.

"Oh? And yet you were the one who threw the first punch. Who started this, huh?" You had a smart remark on the tip of your tongue, but his grip tightened, and he tugged your head back, leaning down to whisper against your ear. "I could tell the principal. That would look awful on your permanent record. Or…" his tone was suggestive, the offer clear. He had been trying to get under your skin since the first day, and you were beginning to realize that it had been in more ways than one.

You knew what he was implying, and the idea didn't sound bad. But, the thought of him thinking that he could get away with doing whatever he wanted was even worse.

"Or, what? You're gonna fuck me into submission?" Your words were a challenge, and his smirk turned into a full blown grin, his teeth glinting in the light.

"Is that what you want, pretty girl?" The pet name sent a shiver down your spine, and the look on his face let you know he was more than aware of the effect it had on you.

"Don't call me that." Your words were more breathless than angry, and he chuckled, releasing your chin, only to slide his hand down your body. You were wearing a skirt, something that had been a mistake, the fabric bunching up around your waist. You couldn't help but squirm as his fingers danced along the inside of your thigh, his touch featherlight, teasing.

"What? Pretty girl?" You hated the way he spoke, the way his voice was so low and sensual, his words practically dripping with sex. It was driving you crazy, and you were sure he knew it. His fingers moved closer to your cunt, your panties damp, the fabric clinging to your pussy. His fingers grazed over your clit, the contact minimal, but enough to make you jump, the noise you made a strangled groan.

"Yes.." you moaned, your hips grinding down against his hand, seeking out more friction.

"What's the magic word?" His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, and you swallowed, trying to collect your thoughts, trying to get a handle on yourself. He wasn't allowed to do this. He wasn't supposed to have this kind of effect on you. And yet…

"Please.." the word was a whisper, the desperation clear, and he hummed, pleased, his fingers rubbing over your cunt, the fabric of your panties doing little to nothing to muffle the pleasure.

"Good girl." He practically purred, the praise making you shudder. It felt so good, having his hands on you. It was as if your brain was short circuiting, the feeling of his fingers on your cunt overwhelming.

His fingers hooked around your panties, and he tugged them to the side, his finger sliding between your folds.

"God, you're so wet. Are you sure this isn't what you've been wanting? Huh? Me fucking you? Filling you up?"

"Shut up.." you muttered, the flush on your cheeks spreading down to your neck. He was right, though. You had thought about him. Imagined him bending you over, his cock buried deep inside you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips. His words were filthy, the filthier the better. You didn't want him to stop.

"You're so sensitive." He mused, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing the bud in slow circles, his finger moving up to prod at your entrance. "I can feel how bad you want this. You're practically dripping.." he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

"F-Fuck you..!" You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, his words making the heat in the pit of your stomach burn even hotter.

"Such a mouth on you. I bet I could find something to put in it." He teased, his teeth scraping against the side of your neck, biting down, hard enough to leave a mark. You groaned, the noise echoing throughout the room, and his fingers pressed against your hole, pushing the digit into your tight cunt. Your walls squeezed around the digit, the feeling strange, but not unwelcome. His finger felt amazing, his pace slow and torturous, but it was more than enough to have you panting.

"You're doing so well. Such a good girl, taking my fingers like this.." he crooned, and you whined, his words going straight to your core. "How about I give you another one, hm?" You nodded, the movement jerky, desperate.

"Y-Yes.." you mumbled, your hands reaching to cling onto him, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt. He hummed, adding a second finger, your walls stretching around him. He scissored his fingers, slowly fucking you with them, his thumb continuing to rub at your clit. It felt incredible, the way he was filling you up, the stretch almost too much. You were moaning, unable to keep quiet, and you heard him laugh.

"Awww, you like this, huh? You're so loud, baby. You love me that much?"

"F-fucking hate you.. t-this- this isn't-" he cut you off, curling his fingers, the tips of his digits pressing against your sweet spot. The moan that left you was embarrassingly loud, and his free hand grabbed your hair, tugging on the locks, forcing your head back. He forced his tongue into your mouth, kissing you roughly, swallowing all the noises that escaped you.

"You talk too much." He breathed, the words coming out muffled against your lips, and you tried to bite back the whine that was building up in the back of your throat, the coil in the pit of your stomach wound up so tightly, your body tense.

"I-I'm close, fuck- I-I'm so-" you couldn't think, his fingers still pounding into you, his thumb pressing down on your clit, the pressure just the right amount. You felt him smirk, his fingers moving faster, his free hand moving to grip your hip, his hold bruising. "C-cumm-ing!" You managed, the word getting caught in the back of your throat, and the coil snapped, your body jerking as you came, his fingers still working inside of you.

"There you go. Come for me. Cum all over my fingers, just like that. Good girl." His praise only made the orgasm even more intense, and you whined, the feeling too much. You could feel his gaze on you, watching you as you came undone, his fingers working you through it. He pulled his fingers out, bringing the digits to his lips, sucking them clean, his tongue flicking out to lick the digits clean. "Y-you- you won't tell the orin-the principal about my-my detention record, right?"

You couldn't form a coherent sentence, the pleasure fogging up your brain. Scaramouche chuckled, a wide grin on his face, his gaze heated, and you realized just how much you enjoyed his attention on you. "You'll.. get ride of all thedetentions on m..my record a-and make sure I don't have anymore?"

He grinned, his fingers gripping the hem of his pants, undoing the belt, pulling his zipper down, pulling his cock out, the tip already glistening with pearly liquid.

"Only if you make it worth my while." You knew exactly what he meant, and you were more than willing to comply. You dropped to your knees, the cold tile digging into your skin. You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his cock, the heat from his member nearly searing. You leaned forward, flicking your tongue against the tip, the taste of his precum salty, but delicious.

"M-mhm, mhm.. deal." You agreed, your hand moving up and down his length, trying to get him wet enough so that your movements wouldn't be too rough. His eyes were trained on your movements, his hand reaching out, tangling in your hair.

"Good girl. Now, open wide." You parted your lips, opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gripped the back of your head, his fingers digging into your scalp, and he thrusted his hips forward, the head of his cock sliding past your lips. The feeling of his cock in your mouth was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the weight heavy on your tongue. He slowly pushed himself further into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, your gag reflex kicking in, making your throat contract around his length. He moaned, the sound making your cunt throb, and he held himself there, waiting for a few seconds before he started thrusting.

"Fuck- so- so fucking tight- you're doing so well.." he grunted, his eyes shut, the pleasure washing over him. His words had you moaning, the vibrations of your voice around his cock making him thrust harder. Your hand was pumping what wasn't in your mouth, your spit making the movements slick, his cock glistening. You were struggling to breathe, but the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him using your throat like this was amazing, and you couldn't get enough.

His hips were stuttering, his thrusts becoming more erratic, and he pulled out, his fingers wrapping around his length, pumping the digits, the tip of his cock pressed against your lips, your tongue darting out to lap at the head.

"Ahh- shit, here- come here.." he breathed, tugging at the strands of your hair, and you stood, your legs trembling, and he pushed you back against the wall, his hand slipping between your bodies, his fingers tugging your panties down, throwing them across the room. "Still so wet, hm? You really enjoyed that, didn't you?" He breathed, lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, the position putting him in perfect alignment with your cunt. You could feel his cock rubbing between your folds, the tip brushing against your clit, the contact making you moan, your hips bucking.

"Not so tough now, are you?" He chuckled, the sound deep and low, his eyes trained on your face. You were too out of it to come up with a response, the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, the pleasure threatening to drown you.

"F-fuck me, please.." the words left you before you could stop them, and his eyes widened, the look on his face a cocky tone.

"Oh? I didn't know you could beg, pretty girl."

"J-just.. I need you.." you pleaded, the feeling of his cock brushing against your cunt driving you crazy, the friction not nearly enough.

"You'll have me." He promised, and he pushed his hips forward, his cock sinking into you, his hands holding onto your thighs, keeping you steady. The feeling of him inside of you was like nothing you had ever felt before, his cock stretching your cunt, filling you up so well, his size almost too much. A high-pitched whine escaped you, and his grip tightened, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin.

"H-holy shit.. fuck, you're so fucking tight, fuck-" his words were cut off, a low groan escaping him, and he didn't bother waiting for you to adjust. He didn't give you a chance to recover. His hips were pistoning, his thrusts rough, his cock slamming into you over and over again. "You feel so fucking good." He grunted, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched. He was gorgeous, the sounds escaping him like music to your ears, and the pleasure was making your brain short circuit.

"Fuck..haah.. fuck, take it, baby, take all of me, you're so- so fucking perfect, shit, I'm not gonna last long, god, you feel amazing.." he rambled, his pace brutal, and you cried out, pathetic noises leaving you. You felt like a bitch in heat, a sexdoll, his to use however he saw fit, and as much as it pissed you off, the thought only served to turn you on even more.

"M-mh.. ha-harder! Fuck- fuck me- harder, ple-please-" you managed, the words coming out choked, and his eyes shot open, his gaze wild, the look on his face pure animal. He moved even faster, the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoing throughout the room.

"Shit, y-you want it that bad? Huh? Y-you like being fucked this hard? T-talk to me, baby, tell me how much you like it." His words were punctuated with moans, and you gasped, your nails scratching at the fabric of his shirt, the material wrinkling under your grip. You were shaking, your cunt squeezing around his cock, the feeling of him inside of you driving you absolutely crazy. The coil in the pit of your stomach was growing tighter, and the pleasure was making it difficult to breathe, his cock filling you up so well. You could feel the tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and he chuckled, the sound dark and deep, the noise making your cunt throb.

"F-feels good, f-fuck..a-so good.. i l-love your c-cock.. ahh, p-please, f-fill me up..! W-want it so bad- ah! M-more!" Your words were barely coherent, a babble of broken sentences, but they seemed to be enough, his cock driving into you with enough force to push the air from your lungs, his cock bottoming out, the tip pushing against the entrance of your womb. You were crying out, your noises almost deafening, the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your vision was blurry, the pleasure so intense, and you felt his thrusts begin to stutter, his breathing labored. "Mmph!! Y-yes, yes, fuck, fuck.. c-cum with me p-please.. i w-wanna feel it, n-need it..!" You cried, and he groaned, his head falling back, his hair sticking to his forehead, his bangs damp.

"Dirty- haah, dirty girl. F-fuck, here- cum with me, t-together.." his fingers moved between your bodies, his thumb pressing down on your clit. The pressure was the last straw, the pleasure snapping, and your body seized, your mouth falling open, a pornographic scream eliciting from you as you synced up, cumming with him, your release washing over you in waves. Your gummy walls were clamping down on his cock, and he moaned, the noise sounding more like a growl, his seed shooting out, painting the walls of your cunt, his cock pulsating. It was a sensation unlike anything you had ever felt, and you shuddered, the pleasure so intense you couldn't help but sob.

Scaramouche grunted, his head buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth digging into the side of your neck, biting down, his hips jerking, the aftershocks of his orgasm making him tremble. You were shaking, the two of you panting, your bodies pressed together. "Fuck.." he breathed, the word muffled against your skin, and you whined, the feeling of him pulling out making you squirm. His release began to seep out of your cunt, dribbling down your thighs, and he watched with a pleased expression, his cock twitching. You couldn't form a coherent sentence, too overwhelmed, but he seemed to understand. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, and his hand moved to brush the sweat soaked strands of hair from your forehead, a small smirk on his lips. "So, about those detentions slips.."

#୧ ‧₊˚ ☆ athena's creations ! #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #scaramouche imagines #kabukimono imagines #wanderer imagines #kunikuzushi imagines #scaramouche x you #kabukimono x you #wanderer x you #kunikuzushi x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #kabukimono x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche smut #kabukimono smut #kunikuzushi smut #wanderer smut #scaramouche #scara #kunikuzushi #kabukimono #wanderer #scaramouche x y/n #kabukimono x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #genshin impact x reader

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

__________________________________________

Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

..

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

--------------------------------------------------

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dc x dp #DP x DC #batman #Curaré #batman beyond #duke thomas #danny and the little deadgirl au #i really gotta think of a name for this AU if its gonna be a thing #do i have a plan for this? no no i do not #i have a vague idea about what happens in this universe and no real motivation to write it #batfam

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask". 

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?' 

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?" 

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential  the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?" 

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged". 

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window. 

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?" 

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?" 

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night. 

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack. 

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb. 

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street. 

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake. 

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything. 

If anything, Eddie has more questions. 

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot. 

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue. 

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?" 

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?" 

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone. 

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him". 

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt". 

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.  

And Wayne would never hurt him. 

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse". 

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…" 

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?" 

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday". 

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos. 

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end. 

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again. 

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!" 

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers. 

"Dustin?" 

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

#stranger things #stranger things season 2 au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and nancy breakup #what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party? #this fic is going places apparently #eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here #i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus #you can pry them from my cold dead fingers #afewproblems writes #cw marijuana #crossing into the canon upside down stuff now #lets goooooooooo #dustin meets eddie early #eddie is listening to steve talk and just thinking ??? #like what is wrong with this boy there are too many things to count #cw bullying #billy hargrove is his own warning #I might rename this Castles Crumble based on that TSwift vault song #such a steve song am I right?

[deardoiloveyou]

Softening angel

Draco x Fem!Ravenclaw!Prefect!Reader

Notes/CW: Angst, fluff, holding hands, romance in general, this is a decently experimental fic, in this AU draco isn't a prefect while you are,

Proofread: Yes

Prompt: Draco slowly falling in love with a genius yet outcasted reader

Part 1, Part 2

Draco's pastimes consisted of; teasing ickle hufflepuffs, in general bullying 'annoying arseholes', making snide remarks to Pottah, and mostly hanging out with his toxic filled friend group. Oh, and might I mention he has a knack for breaking rules (if you couldn't tell).

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"You buffoons- quit being so loud"

Crabbe and Goyle were quick to shut themselves up at Draco's command. Sneaking into the restricted section of the library wasn't a usual for Draco, but he needed to know the secrets that resided in this part of the library. No matter what anyone told the cold slytherin prince, he most likely wouldn't listen.

You were doing your prefect duties as always, diligently walking around the corridors of a school that was built like a maze. Yet, you seemed to notice something was off, your instincts were always strong and being observant was what you were known for.

A loud thunk. And then the sound of a boy scolding another person. From what you could make out, he was saying,

"This is why I don't invite you when I'm about to break about a thousand rules!"

And then the sound of shushing, shuffling, and a bit more quiet scolding.

You finally decided to investigate, your shoes clacking against the floor. Draco noticed it immediately, the sound of your walking growing nearer and nearer until he couldn't do anything about it,

"Crabbe- do you see any-..."

Before Draco even had the chance to finish his sentence, he came to the realization they had literally ditched him. Oh, how badly he was going to scold his normally obedient goons was incomprehensible.

"Hm? What does he see...?"

Your voice filled the tense air, Draco knew he couldn't "My father will hear about this" out of this situation.

Draco immediately noticed your practically glimmering Prefects' badge, he decided to try and act innocent (to no avail).

"Ah- Ms. Prefect, I was just about to lea-"

Before Draco could finish his sentence, you cut him off. Deeply disturbing Draco as he was used to having the upper hand. But before you could even begin to scold this unfamiliar boy, Filch's rugged tip-tapping entered the cold library. You weren't sure what to do, but your gut directed the rest of your actions.

You gently pushed Draco against the shelf full of curious books, placing a finger over his mouth as a way to say "Shut up". But Draco never obeys.

"Quite the temptress I see."

Dracos whisper sent a cold shiver down your spine.

"Oh for Merlins sake, shut up..."

His lips curled into a charming smirk.

"Oh you like me, don't you?"

The tension grew between you two. The heat growing between both Draco and you was undeniable. You didn't even know this boy, so how was it that you felt your cheeks burning red?

You finally heard the library go quiet. So you immediately pushed Draco away from you, seemingly further into the bookcase.

Your usual competent demeanor returned, yet you still couldn't make eye contact with this platinum blonde boy.

"I can tell you'd like to know my name, so, the name's Draco. Draco Malfoy."

You took a mental note inside your head to give "Draco Malfoy" a detention. And with that, you turned on your heel and walked off from a mesmerized boy, known as Draco Malfoy.

A/N: this will eventually become a series but depending on my schedule and motivation it could take quite a while!! I truly appreciate your patience as well as the support for my recent fics♡

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco x you #draco fluff #draco malfoy fluff

[mommypieck]

♡.°୭̥ ୨୧ aot masterlist

general aot masterlist (multiple characters)

aot characters when trying for a baby

aot boys giving u hickeys

aot girls being needy

aot boys reaction when their partner is getting harassed

why did aot characters get detention - modern au

aot characters reacting to u sleeping with a stuffed animal

aot boys and anal

hot things they do before you start dating

how they like your pussy

aot boys when they have a crush on their best friends sister

aot boys having a crush on their best friends sister part 2

how aot boys smell

aot girl with a kitty girlfriend

aot boys reacting to you calling them daddy for the first time

aot boys with a shy girlfriend

aot boys as perverts

aot x too big

aot boys reacting to you calling them a good boy

bratty aot boys

7 minutes with aot boys

pussy eating with eren, jean and connie

threesome

aot girls front and back

aot girls front and back part 2

faking an orgasm

making aot boys fall apart

pussy eating

himbo boys

being aot girls stripper

foursome with eren, mikasa, annie and armin

giving aot boys faux blowjob

sizes of aot boys

being aot girls stripper

foursome with eren, mikasa, annie and armin

having sleepover with mikasa, sasha, ymir and historia

jean, armin and eren eating you out

aot boys reacting to you rubbing against them in a club

aot girls as mums

specific things they find attractive

aot boys reacting to you sucking on a lollipop 

giving aot boys rimjob

how exibicionist aot girls are?

aot boys | clothing they find attractive

your favs sucking on your strap

eren & armin jerking off to you

toxic things aot boys do

threesome with mikasa and annie

boys with the prettiest eyes

[mypoisonedvine]

MEET THE MUNSONS (active series, stepbrother!eddie x reader)

encore (completed series, eddie x rockstar!reader)

part 1: wild side - part 2: still of the night - part 3: love bites - drabbles

the freak pirate and the slut princess

the waiting (is the hardest part)

safe

runaways (warning: dark!)

fake plastic love

the space he left behind. (warning: angst and spoilers!)

hold on to my heart (warning: angst!)

I'll always come back for you (warning: dark!)

it happened one night in detention (a/b/o au)

on the prowl (warning: dark, technically!) (steve & eddie x reader)

"I'm not wearing any underwear... thought you'd like to know."

"Please never stop smiling."

Eddie learns his shy best friend likes being spanked

stepbrother!eddie and the very normal, definitely not drugged gummies (warning: dark!)

stepbrother!eddie and the party outfit that he didn't approve of (warning: dark!)

perv!eddie and his innocent friend | part 2 | part 3

dom!eddie uses a fuck machine on his sub

college student!eddie and professor!reader

on the prowl (warning: dark, technically!) (steve & eddie x reader)

"I'm just getting comfy."

"Looks like we'll be trapped for a while..."

single dad/dilf!steve and the babysitter

yandere!001

"I fucking hate you."

argyle

blowing argyle at work

body worship with argyle

wayne munson

trailer park babydoll

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things spoilers #st4 spoilers #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #001 x reader #henry creel x reader #steddie x reader

[badcaseofcasey]

Steddie Soulmate/Met as Kids AU - Part 3 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

a/n: you guys are all too sweet - I'm so glad you're enjoying this little idea of mine, that has now grown into a 5k+ fic - so there's more to come!

Steve started high school with a chip on his shoulder; he’d done well enough in middle school sports that he’d be a shoe-in for JV, if not Varsity. He, Tommy H, and Carol had risen to the top of the pile, and even though they were back to being the new folks on campus, he was fully assuming that high school would be just as easy for him as middle school, at least as far as social standing went.

But as he got used to the new environment, he couldn’t help but notice the feeling of electricity that shot through his veins every so often. At first, he thought he could chalk it up to the sensation of being in a new place surrounded by new people, the hustle and bustle of it all, the independence of finally being a high schooler. It took until lunchtime during their third week of school to realize what the buzzing under his skin really meant.

Steve, Tommy, and Carol had just sat down to eat when Steve’s attention was drawn to a commotion on the other side of the cafeteria.

One of the other students (a sophomore, he thought?) had stood up on one of the tables and was speaking loudly to anyone who would listen. Steve was too far away to make out any of what he was saying, but he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and the buzzing sensation felt like it had been turned up to its highest setting.

“Get a load of Munson,” Tommy scoffed. “What a freak.”

“Munson?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, Eddie Munson,” Tommy explained. “He just moved here to live with his uncle - apparently his dad got thrown in jail and his mom didn’t want him, so he’s with his uncle in the trailer park. My mom heard about it from one of the secretaries at City Hall. Social Services brought him into town.”

“My sister says he’s so weird,” Carol added on. Her sister was a year older than them and Carol had taken to repeating whatever her sister had told her so they could start out high school quote-unquote the right way. “He wasn’t here last year, but he’s already been in detention like, six times for talking back to teachers. She says he’s the definition of trailer trash.”

Steve frowned. He tried to catch a glimpse of Munson’s face to see if he recognized him. Something about the way he captivated a crowd felt familiar. The buzzing sensation under his skin picked up again as Munson’s face turned their way. Steve snapped his eyes back down to the table.

“Whatever,” Tommy said. “He’s not worth our time, anyway.”

“Except for… you know,” Carol whispered, very poorly miming smoking a joint. “Apparently he sells drugs.”

Steve let their conversation wash over him as he pushed the food around on his tray. He had been waiting for the day when he might get to see his soulmate again, desperate to see how he’d grown up, if he still felt magnetic the way he had at the park. Now, it seemed, here he was. But could it really be him?

Part of Steve - the part he hated sometimes - was hoping it wasn’t the same person. The way Tommy and Carol talked about Eddie Munson made it clear that there was no way they’d ever want to hang out with him, even if they did find out that he was Steve’s soulmate.

“Steve?” Carol said. “Are you hearing us?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Munson’s a freak. Not worth our time.”

From then on, Steve was determined to see Eddie as little as possible. He convinced himself that maintaining the status quo and staying on the top of the pecking order was more important than anything else - soulmate or no soulmate.

Sure, he would still see Eddie around. He had a habit of showing up at parties he wasn’t invited to, there on business, as Tommy would jokingly say. Every time, Steve would feel that same rush of energy flowing along his side, where he knew the words hey, you want to fight a dragon with me? were scrawled. But every time, Steve held himself back, resisting the pull of Eddie’s magnet.

Even when Eddie flunked his first try at senior year and they ended up in some of the same classes, Steve did his best to stay away from him. Every so often, Tommy would try to get under Eddie’s skin, making snide comments as they passed in the hall, but Steve made sure they never lingered, reminding Tommy of his words in the cafeteria that day - “he’s not worth our time.”

By the time Nancy Wheeler came into his life, Steve fully believed that he could make a relationship work with someone other than his soulmate. Nancy had her words, too, though she also claimed not to know who they were from. For a while, dating Nancy was easy. It made sense: the handsome jock and the girl next door. If they just tried hard enough, Steve was sure they could have a good life together. People got married who weren’t soulmates all the time. And besides, Nancy made him a better person, and wasn’t that what everyone said your soulmate was supposed to do, anyway?

But then came Halloween, the word bullshit spat out in between sips of punch, and the revelation that Nancy’s words had come from Jonathan Byers, of all people. And Steve was back to being alone.

Or well, not really; because along with Nancy had come a gaggle of kids and the knowledge of things that he thought only existed in horror movies. And even after he and Nancy broke up and all the fighting was over - for now - he still had the distinction of being the best goddamn babysitter in Hawkins, Indiana.

So he had Dustin, and the other kids, and eventually Robin, and he was happy. Content. Eddie was still there, but almost in the same way he had been there before Steve had seen him again in the cafeteria. For now, Eddie was back in his memories. Steve was fine if he never saw his soulmate again - really, he was fine.

He could date, and hookup, and when he needed that feeling of something he would have forever that he could depend on, he could remind himself that he had the kids, and Robin, and Joyce and Hopper, and even Nancy and Jonathan, after a while. It was better this way, to keep that one perfect afternoon with Sir Eddie safe in his head, where no one could touch it.

Steve should have known that befriending a bunch of teenage D&D nerds would eventually come around to bite him in the ass.

Part 4

taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!): @infinitetrashbag @vampireinthesun @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach @thev01dd @obsessivlyme @a-little-unsteddie @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @spectrum-spectre @red-panderz69 @magpiemuseum @minjintea @finalmoondragon @thatonebadideapanda @estrellami-1 @freyaforestafay @biatcgh @sadcanadianwinter @im-sam-fucking-winchester @bidisastersworld @justanothergirlwithobsessions @anaibis @thing-a-ling

#i know - steve's a bit of a dick in this one #but he wouldn't be steve harrington if he weren't a dick in high school #i promise this gets happier eventually #my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #soulmate au #met as kids au #Stranger Things #steddie soulmate au

[ghosttotheparty]

For the dialogue prompts: Steddie + 24. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “Probably not.”

i did another one-shot with this prompt here as well :) (this is a no upside down au/high school au; eddie is a senior (his first senior year) and steve is a junior) {part 2 // part 3} cw: substance use; weed; very brief reference to child neglect & alcoholism; little bit of internalised homophobia

It's not often Eddie sees Steve Harrington in detention. Not often meaning never. He's out of place here, sitting at a creaky desk with Eddie and the others, in his pristine polo and shiny hair.

Eddie stares at him for a moment when he walks in, hovering in the doorway and eyeing Steve's posture. He's slouched in his seat, arms crossed, almost brooding, and Eddie feels rabid as Steve meets his eyes and cocks an eyebrow. But he behaves (for once).

He sits next to him, scooting his chair a little too close as he whispers, "What'd you do?"

"Nothing," Steve grumbles, and Eddie grins.

---

Steve's never actually talked with Eddie Munson. But that doesn't stop him from looking at him. He sees him in the hallways all the time, sees his hair that's almost at his shoulders, long and frizzy in a way that would be curly if Eddie took proper care of it. He sees him make faces at people, sees him draw in his notebook, and Steve is fascinated.

Eddie smiles like he's feral, all wide-eyed and shining, and Steve loves his smile, even if he doesn't admit it to himself. It's an exciting smile.

Somehow even though they've never spoken, Eddie seems perfectly comfortable sitting next to him (right next to him; maybe a little too close, but Steve isn't complaining) and talking to him.

"No, seriously," Eddie says. "What'd you do?"

Steve sighs, letting his head fall back to look at the ceiling.

"Uh." He keeps his voice quiet. There are other kids in the room, but none of them seem to care very much about the two of them. They're all sitting with their heads down on their desks, probably asleep. "I might have cussed out a teacher."

Eddie's eyes become even wilder, and his grin broadens, and Steve can't help but smile with him, his face flushing as Eddie knocks their shoulders together.

"You are so much cooler than I thought you were."

"Wow."

"Who was it?"

"Fisher."

"What'd he do?"

"Uh," Steve sighs again. "He, like, scolded me for not paying attention because I couldn't follow along, and I kind of just... snapped. Said he's a shitty teacher and maybe I'd be able to follow along if he wasn't so fucking boring."

"Steve Harrington. You're my hero."

Steve laughs. He hasn't laughed all day, but Eddie fucking Munson manages to get him to giggle, and then his face flushes with heat again.

They have to be quiet when detention actually starts, and Steve doesn't get the chance to ask Eddie what he did to get detention. But he can guess: he was probably late to class a few too many times, or neglected to turn in an assignment again. Something that Eddie is notorious for.

---

They fall silent when detention starts, and Eddie sees Steve lay his head down. He lets himself watch, admiring the way Steve pushes his hair out of his face before he sighs and looks across the room, blinking at the chalkboard. His eyes glaze over after a moment, and his eyebrows furrow like he's thinking hard about something. And Eddie is curious about what goes on in Steve Harrington's head. He has a feeling it's nothing good when Steve blinks his eyes, sniffling and tilting his head to lay it on his forearm. He looks like he's going to cry.

Eddie pulls his bag close and rips a scrap out of one of his notebook, rummaging around in the bottom of the bag for a pen before he scribbles a note and slides it onto Steve's desk.

you ok?

Steve lifts his head to look at him, and somehow his face falls even more as he reads it, and Eddie suddenly wants to wrap his arms around him, this boy he's never even spoken to, as Steve looks over at him and shrugs weakly.

What's wrong? Eddie mouths.

Steve looks back at the nose, biting his lip, and then he gestures for the pen, and Eddie passes it to him.

just feel like shit

Eddie looks at the note, contemplating, ultimately deciding that he can't give him a hug right here and now (unfortunately), and he draws the lines for tic-tac-toe before passing it back to Steve.

Steve looks at it and smiles.

He glances up at the teacher, who's reading something, and he moves his chair closer to Eddie, leaving the paper between them. The movement makes Eddie's stomach flutter, and he internally curses himself, because now is not the time to think about how he has a crush on a straight boy.

But he can't do anything about it, because Steve lays his head back down, drawing a little X in the center square, and his cheek squishes against his arm, and his hair falls to the desk, and he looks beautiful. Eddie looks away from him, but leans down, crossing an arm over the desk in front of himself and resting his chin on it.

They play three games, passing the pen back and forth. Steve wins the first two, and it makes him smile again and again, and Eddie decides he's set the world alight to make him smile. It makes his eyes squeeze shut in a way that's going to leave crow's feet behind when he's older. Eddie suddenly hopes he gets to see it.

Eddie sticks his tongue out at him like a child when he finally wins a game, drawing a sharp line through his Os, and Steve snorts, shaking his head at him.

Eddie sits up while Steve is staring at their next game, analyzing Eddie's Os carefully, and he stretches his back, looking across the room. Peters is asleep now, slouched over at his desk and snoring quietly, his book on his chest.

Eddie grins, elbowing Steve and gesturing with a jerk of his chin when Steve looks up at him.

Steve makes a face at Peters, looking oddly disappointed in him, and Eddie almost laughs, pressing his lips together when Steve looks back at him.

---

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Eddie whispers softly, and Steve glances him up and down, scanning his ripped jeans and his Megadeth t-shirt that's stained, the black fabric spotted reddish orange, his tangled necklaces and heavy rings.

"Probably not."

And Eddie just gives him this grin, this shit-eating, let's-break-the-law type of grin that makes Steve want to break the law. And Steve watches as he snatches the pen up from the table and grabs his backpack, standing up and crossing the room. The chains hanging from his jeans jingle happily, but Peters doesn't stir, and neither do the other kids, who just cast looks at Eddie and then lay back down or look back at whatever homework they're doing. Steve watches him, until he stops in the doorway like he can feel him watching.

Eddie turns back around, meeting Steve's eyes, and he gives him a look, widening his eyes and shaking his head before he beckons dramatically like they're going to be late for something. Steve glances at Peters, who hasn't moved.

And he follows Eddie.

Eddie is beaming when he follows him out, leaving their chairs behind, still out of place, and he starts to laugh as they head down the hallways toward the exit before he tosses an arm over Steve's shoulder, jostling him and messing up his hair. Steve doesn't mind.

---

"You're a terrible influence," Steve says, but he's smiling too, stumbling as Eddie pulls him along, arm still around his shoulders.

"But you were influenced so easily. You think I can get you into metal?"

"Absolutely not. Where are we going?"

They're exiting the building, the doors swinging shut behind them loudly, and Eddie just pulls him toward his van, standing out obnoxiously among the other students' cars.

"We're gonna smoke some weed," he says brightly. "Because you need it."

"In the school parking lot?" Steve questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Obviously not, we're leaving the school parking lot. I'll bring you back for your car when we're sober."

"Oh. Okay."

He just goes with it. He seems lighter than he did in the detention room, an absent smile on his face as he buckles himself in, looking around Eddie's van. It's a mess, but Eddie supposes it's representative of him. Steve jumps when Eddie turns the van on and the music comes on, the volume too loud, but he just laughs when Eddie headbangs as he buckles up.

They end up at the quarry. It's oddly quiet when the music turns off, replaced by the gentle sloshing of the water below them, by the leaves rattling in the wind.

They move to the back of the van, sitting opposite each other with their legs hanging over the edge, dangling above the dirt and gravel, and Eddie looks at Steve as he looks around, at the sky, which is now a soft grey.

"Why do you feel like shit today?" Eddie asks as he pulls a bong out from where it's hidden under a blanket.

Steve looks at him, his head falling back, and he looks tired, but relaxed. His shirt is wrinkled now.

"Just... I don't know. I feel..." He watches Eddie get the weed ready, eyes half-shut like he's going to fall asleep. "Tired. All the time. My dad was in town last week and he..." He's quiet for a moment. "I don't like him very much."

Eddie looks at him solemnly. One of his legs is propped up, his arm around it, the other kicking the air weakly.

"Is he gone now?" he asks before he takes a hit, the sound of the bubbling water filling the van.

"Yeah. Spain, this time."

"Spain? For what?" Eddie questions when he lifts his head, wrinkling his nose and exhaling.

"Who fuckin' knows, man," Steve says, laughing lightly, but it's a forced laugh, and Eddie can tell he wishes he knew.

"Does your dad suck?" he asks, passing the bong and lighter to Steve, who sighs and takes them. His chest rises and falls as he takes a hit, and Eddie's eyes follow the way his lips part to let the smoke out.

"Yeah."

Eddie nods.

Steve takes another hit, looking out across the quarry as he exhales, eyes a little glazed over.

"He wants me to..." Steve pauses, holding the bong back out to Eddie and sighing. "To follow in his footsteps. With his business and everything."

"Do you want to?" Eddie asks softly, gazing at him. Steve scoffs.

"Fuck no. 'D rather fuckin' die."

A laugh bursts out of Eddie and Steve grins lazily at him.

"What would you do?" Eddie asks. "If you got to pick. You graduate high school and then..."

Steve hums breathily, slouching and fidgeting with the end of the blanket as Eddie takes a hit.

"Probably just... take off," he says finally, his voice soft and thoughtful. "Pack my shit 'nd just leave."

Eddie exhales the smoke, smiling.

"You don't like it here?"

Steve scoffs.

"Hate this fuckin' town."

"This town loves you," Eddie points out, but Steve's face just falls a little, and he shakes his head.

"...They love who they think I am," he says softly after a moment. "They love King fucking Steve, not me. I wanna go."

"Isn't that the dream," Eddie says softly, ignoring the way his chest hurts for him. He wonders if he's the only one who knows Steve. This Steve, this... fragile, lonely boy.

"You too?"

"Jesus, yeah." Eddie passes the bong to him, still smiling, and he tosses the lighter. Steve catches it against his chest, looking at him curiously. "Hate this fuckin' town, man."

"You're not from Hawkins," Steve says. "Right?"

"Nope." He watches Steve flick the lighter, watches him duck his head to take a hit, watches his shoulders rise as he inhales. "Moved here with my uncle when I was nine."

Steve looks up, giving him a curious look as he leans back against the side of the van and exhales slowly.

"Why're you here?"

Eddie hums lightly, reaching for the bong. Steve tosses the lighter and giggles when Eddie doesn't catch it. Eddie flips him off. He grins.

"Dad was more into drinking than he was being a father," Eddie says. "And Ma didn't stick around long after he took up liquor. So. Wayne stepped in."

"Is he nice?" Steve asks after a moment, his voice so small it almost disappears behind the bubbling water. Eddie nods as he lifts his head.

"He's real nice," he says. "Kinda my best friend."

Steve smiles, listening.

"But he knows I hate it here. Knows I wanna leave as soon as I can. He's cool with it."

"Where would you go?" Steve asks, drawing both knees to his chest and leaning forward, hugging them to himself as he looks at Eddie like Eddie's going to tell him a story. He looks so young, like he's just a little kid, daydreaming about escaping a lonely town. Eddie's chest aches.

"Maybe San Francisco," he says softly, setting the bong aside. "Or some other big city. Somewhere I'll see other people like me. Somewhere I don't have to worry as much about being stared at, you know?"

Steve looks at him, his chin on one of his knees, and his eyes are shining at him.

"I like looking at you," he says after a moment, whispering. Eddie's stomach flutters again, and he smiles as Steve's face flushes pink. "...I'm kind of a lightweight. Sorry."

"'S okay," Eddie says softly, mirroring him, wrapping his arms around his legs and gazing across at him. "I like looking at you too."

He really does. Eddie always thought his eyes were brown, but they're hazel, lighter up close, specked with green and gold and the stars. His skin is spotted with moles that Eddie wants to memorize. Steve relaxes a bit at the confession, his lips curving into a smile, and he leans closer. Eddie leans closer too.

---

"Where would you go?" Eddie whispers.

He doesn't have to speak any louder. It's so quiet now, especially when Steve's head is a little cloudy and everything feels muffled.

"Anywhere," Steve whispers back. "Just... pack up and drive. Follow the roads to wherever they take me."

Eddie is smiling. His eyes keep flicking across Steve's face in a way that makes him feel a little self-conscious, wondering if there's something on his skin, but Eddie is just looking at him, his eyes aimlessly wandering across his face.

"Sounds nice," he says softly.

They fall silent, and Steve gazes at him. He looks so... soft.

Everyone makes him out to be so scary. Like he's a stray dog, like he's dangerous, but his eyes are dark and shiny, and he doesn't look threatening or menacing at all right now. His head is tilted like he's curious about what Steve is thinking, and his hair looks fluffy, and he just looks a little sad.

Steve wants to kiss him.

He hates himself for thinking it, for thinking how easy it would be to just... lean over. They're so close, and Steve's brain feels fuzzy, and for some reason, he doesn't think Eddie would mind all that much if Steve kissed him. But he can't.

Boys like Steve don't kiss other boys.

Especially boys like Eddie Munson.

It makes his chest ache, and his lip quivers. He sees Eddie notice it, the way the air shifts a little bit. Eddie's brows furrow, and he looks like he's pouting a little. And he's so adorable Steve wants to bite him.

"I hate this fucking town, Eddie," he says weakly, taking a breath to steady himself, because he doesn't want to cry. Not when he actually feels so... good. Good because he's a little high, but also good just because he's with Eddie, who doesn't seem to mind that Steve feels like shit. Eddie, who didn't tell him to just snap out of it, to just deal with it. Eddie, who just smiles despite the way Steve's eyes are glistening with tears, and leans in closer. (Close enough to kiss.)

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispers.

It makes Steve laugh, and he wipes the tears that fall down his face.

"Probably not," he says, still laughing softly, his voice wavering, and he sets his chin back on his knee, looking at Eddie. A soft gust of wind blows into the van, and Eddie's bangs shift and his curls fly into his face.

"Let's do it," Eddie whispers after another moment of looking.

Steve blinks. Eddie's smile widens.

"Let's get out of here," he whispers. "Let's just leave this fucking town, they don't need us."

Steve's heart beats faster, and he leans forward.

"Okay," he says.

"We should graduate first," Eddie says, voice still soft. "I gotta make my uncle proud somehow, so if I graduate this year, I'll wait for you, and then we can just..." He shrugs. "Pack our shit. Leave."

"Together?" Steve breathes.

"Yeah," Eddie says, as though it's obvious. Steve smiles, taking a breath, his legs falling as he stares at Eddie. He's serious.

Steve scoffs, smile widening.

"I can, uhm." Eddie swallows, shifting so he's crossing his legs. "I've been thinking about applying at that mechanic that's outside town, Morgan's? I heard they pay well, so I can... I can save some money up."

"I can get a job too," Steve says, almost excited. "There're tons of places in town that are hiring, and I can-- I can save up my allowance from my parents. And I can sell my Beemer."

"Your Beemer?" Eddie says, eyebrows flying up in surprise, which makes sense, Steve supposes. The care is practically who he is, what he's known for, but--

"We won't need it. We can take your van."

Eddie blinks, and his lips curve into a smile.

"Okay," he says softly. "Yeah."

They stare at each other for a moment as it sets it, and Steve's eyes burn.

"Really?" he asks weakly, and Eddie nods, smiling.

"Yeah," he says. "Fuck it. We'll take what we need and we'll just... go. Follow the roads to wherever."

Excitement floods Steve's body, and he moves onto his knees, taking a sharp breath, smiling and smiling and smiling.

"We can-- We can put a mattress back here," Eddie says, looking around the van. "We'll have to share, but--"

"I don't mind," Steve says abruptly. "I don't-- I don't mind sharing."

Eddie's eyes flicker across his face again.

"Okay," he says softly. "And we can... bring some bags and sort them out back here, and-- and food and water, and we can take turns driving. And every night it can be like this," he says, moving a little closer. Steve aches. "We can find beaches, and lakes, and mountains, and we can get high and just explore." His eyes are gleaming excitedly, and he's smiling. "I'll bring my tapes, and you'll get used to metal."

Steve giggles.

"Can I make you listen to my music too?" he asks, and Eddie gives a dramatic, silly eye-roll.

"I guess." And then he's just smiling. "I can bring books."

"Will you read to me?" Steve asks, and then his face flushes with embarrassment. "Just-- I'm not-- I'm not good at reading and--"

"I'll read to you, Stevie," Eddie says gently.

"...Okay."

They look at each other again.

"I can bring some maps," Steve says. "Atlases and stuff. So we know where gas stations are and stuff."

"Yeah, that's smart."

Steve doesn't hear that often. His face flushes with heat again.

"God, I'm so excited," Eddie says, and he's got that grin again, that grin that could convince Steve to do anything. "We just have to graduate. Then we can go."

"How soon after grad?"

"Soon as possible," Eddie says. "I'll pick up my stuff and say goodbye to Wayne, promise to send him postcards 'n shit, and then I can pick you up."

"I won't say bye to my parents," Steve decides out loud, shaking his head. "I'll just-- just leave them a note telling them I'm fine. Or if they're at home, I'll just go."

Eddie nods, eyes bright.

"We're gonna run away together," Steve realizes, his voice soft as he gazes at him, and Eddie tilts his head.

"Yeah. We are."

Steve hugs him.

---

Eddie startles with how sudden it is, Steve tacking him with a hug so hard they fall back against the wall of the van, but he wastes no time hugging him back, arms tight around his waist as Steve buries his face in his neck.

"Sorry," Steve says into his neck.

"Don't be," Eddie mumbles. "Wanted to hug you for ages."

Steve's arms tighten around him, and he settles against him, leaning so their chests press together. Eddie slides his hands over his back, pressing one into his hair. He smells nice.

It's a while that they stay there, wrapped around each other, but Eddie is content to stay there all night, as long as Steve needs.

When they finally part, they don't let go of each other. It's slow, the way Steve's hands slide to his neck, his fingertips cold and his palms warm as they press to his skin, and their faces are so close.

Steve's breath is warm on Eddie's face. Eddie tilts his head, and their noses brush.

He startles away, stomach flipping over, and Steve is looking at him, wide-eyed.

"Were you about to kiss me?" he asks breathlessly. Eddie's stomach clenches.

"I..." Of course he'd ruin everything so soon. "Yeah, I'm-- I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I just..."

But before he can spiral, Steve is reaching out and grabbing his face, pulling him in, and their mouths crash together. Eddie's eyes widen, and his hands fly into the air as he startles, but Steve just holds his face, and they're kissing.

Eddie closes his eyes, his hands finding Steve's shoulders, and the kiss softens as Steve slides his fingers into Eddie's hair.

---

It is soft.

Eddie is soft.

Steve moves closer as Eddie squeezes his shoulders and runs his hands over his biceps, his fingertips slipping under the sleeves of his shirt. Eddie follows, holding him with one hand and using the other to catch himself as he falls back against the wall of the van, and then he's pulling Steve closer by the belt loops of his jeans, and Steve falls against him. They're barely kissing now, just grinning against each other's mouths.

Steve kneels between his legs, spreading his knees to move as close as possible, so Eddie's legs are over his thighs, and he reaches to hold his face again, his palms pressing to Eddie's (soft) cheeks, fingers slipping behind his ears. He kisses softly too, almost tender as he presses a hand into the small of Steve's back and pulls him close. Steve hums, pulling back to tilt his head, glancing at Eddie's lips before he leans back in. They're kissed red, and Steve feels like his heart might be glowing.

Eddie tugs at his back again, shifting and sliding a hand down his thigh, squeezing and pulling

"C'mere," he mumbles. "Sit on my lap."

Steve giggles, shifting so he can sit atop Eddie's thighs.

"Thought you were gonna take me back to my car," he says quietly, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie's lips. Eddie's hands slide over his waist, and he tilts his chin up to look at him.

"I said I would when we're sober," he says, and Steve realizes what he's been looking at when his eyes flicker over his face. "Are you still high?"

Steve pauses, blinking at him.

"Mm... My head feels fuzzy but I can't tell if it's the weed or if it's because you're kissing me."

Eddie hums thoughtfully.

"Maybe we should stick around here a while longer just in case," he whispers. Steve smiles, leaning down and closing his eyes as their noses brush.

"Okay."

Eddie tilts his chin up. Steve kisses him.

"Can we do this when we run away together?" Steve murmurs when they part after a while, breathless.

"'Course," Eddie whispers, kissing him. He reaches up and holds the back of Steve's head, his fingers tangling with his hair, and Steve doesn't mind. He kisses him. "We can do whatever the fuck we want."

"Okay."

He kisses him. And kisses him, and kisses him, and he revels in it like the sunlight. Because he's kissing a boy, sitting atop his lap and feeling his warm hands run over his waist and back and legs, listening to his deep voice let out soft hums and breathy whispers of Steve's name as it all intensifies. And Steve never thought he'd find himself here, but he loves being here.

He runs his fingers through Eddie's hair, untangling it carefully as he sucks on Eddie's lower lip, and Eddie hums quietly, fingers pressing and kneading Steve's thighs in a way no one's ever done before, but it feels so good. Steve sighs.

The sky is dimming when they finally part for more than just breaths between kisses. Eddie laughs softly, hugging Steve's waist.

His hair is messy, frizzy from Steve's fingers, and Steve's shirt is partially untucked from Eddie's, and he kind of feels high, but it's definitely not the weed.

The feeling fades as they drive back to the high school, as Eddie reaches over and holds Steve's leg, as Steve reaches down and twists their fingers together. The parking lot is empty except for Steve's car. (Steve's care car that he's going to sell.)

"I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart," Eddie says as Steve is getting out of the van. Steve blushes.

"You got a pen?"

"Uh... Yeah?" Eddie rummages through the glove compartment for one and hands it to Steve, who kneels on the passenger seat and pulls at Eddie's hand, uncapping it with his teeth. His brows furrow in focus as he carefully writes his phone number on Eddie's hand.

"Call me," he says as he finishes, the words slurred about the pen cap, and he lets go of his hand, capping the pen again. "When you get home."

Eddie looks at the number, smiling.

"Okay."

He tilts his chin up, which Steve is already learning is his silent sign for wanting a kiss, and Steve leans back into the van, ducking to avoid hitting his head as he stretches over the center console, a hand holding himself up on the passenger seat as he kisses Eddie. Their lips don't land square on each other, and they're both smiling too much to really kiss each other, but Eddie's hand is warm when it finds Steve's cheek, and it's perfect.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers against Eddie's lips. Eddie's fingertip traces his jaw.

He has to tear himself away from Eddie after one last kiss.

He'll invite him to spend the night sometime when he calls him.

dialogue prompts!! ❧ buy me a coffee // check out my commissions ☙

#this is so much longer than i intended #will do the others tomorrow if i have time!!! #this was v fun i love high school aus #also love ppl falling in love unrealistically fast #i am a hopeless romantic #obviously #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie one shot #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfic

[help-itrappedmyself]

Jegulus AU Part 2

Regulus hadn’t fully healed from that encounter when he heard from his brother for the first time that year, receiving an owl about how wonderful Hogwarts was and how much he was going to enjoy it there himself. Regulus would have liked to think so, but as the year went on, Sirius befriended Potter and the rest of his dormmates, including a half-blood, and proceeded to get into a lot of trouble in the form of multiple late-night excursions and detentions, and while Mother had no problem telling Sirius how disappointed she was in him for basically everything he did in the form of Howlers sent to him at school, she was also very quick to assure Regulus in her own way that she expected better of him, and the consequences for not exceeding her expectations.

Regulus never did tell Sirius about the lessons their mother taught him while he was gone. All the punishments he received as warnings whenever Sirius misbehaved at school. He was happy to take the punishments for him. Sirius was always doing the same for Regulus when he was at home so Regulus was more than happy to pay him back even a fraction of the torment that Regulus caused Sirius in the first place. He had years to catch up on in that regard, and he stupidly assumed that next year he would be with Sirius and everything would be okay. 

That dream ended very quickly. Sirius became fast friends with his dormmates, namely one James Potter. Sirius spent the holidays with Potter, not even coming home to see Regulus until the summer. When summer finally arrived, Regulus was excited to get to see his brother again, but all Sirius wanted to do was talk about James Potter, and Hogwarts, and how excited he was to leave again. Regulus told himself this was fine, because he would be with Sirius next year. Next year they would be together, best of friends again. 

Except James Potter and his stupid Gryffindor friends. Regulus went to Hogwarts absolutely dreading the Sorting. He knew he had to be put in Slytherin, he had to because he knew that if the punishment for Sirius getting into Gryffindor had been bad, it was only going to be worse if he himself got put anywhere but Slytherin. He didn’t realize that his brother had been so taken in by his Gryffindor friends that when he was put into Slytherin it started the beginning of the end. Sirius somehow felt betrayed by Regulus. As if he was the crazy one for going to the house where literally everyone in their entire family has gone except for Sirius. Clearly, in this instance Sirius is the traitor. After all, their cousins, Bellatrix and Narcissa, are currently in Slytherin with Regulus. 

It all got worse from there. Regulus knew that being in a different house and a different year would create some distance between him and Sirius. He was however all too ignorant of just how large that distance would become. It became overwhelmingly clear to him that day when Sirius left. Sirius left him, without looking back. He walked out the door without a goodbye, leaving Regulus there, again, always left to pay the price for Sirius’ stupidity.

#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #marauders au #harry potter #my writing #sirius black #regulus black #james potter #remus lupin

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Lyney never feared the sight of the tank, but his "Father" changed that for him. (gen. neutral reader) [ IDENTITYV AU ]

CW/s: Drowning (or almost drowning), ooc Lyney? (he's shaken up oops), depiction of Knave! Lyney/Harbinger! Lyney, near death scenario, reader gets hurt in helping survivor! Lyney (part 2 of 3)

The familiar thumping of one's heart was something Lyney is quite used to. To him, as a magician, he would only have those when performing tricks that are impossible— only for them to work as the audience began to shower him with praise.

As an illusionist, he knew well that miracles are akin to magic tricks. That is what he was raised to believe, but outside of his job, there are things far more cruel than he may say.

So when he felt himself getting dunked into the tank his sister used in one of their shows, he felt the air leave him as he was put inside.

He banged on the glass as he saw his Father? leave, the illusion fading into a sight he can discern. He thought it was her?, but the familiar coat and attire betrayed his expectation.

It was… Himself?

… As the Knave.

He felt his eyes widened. Was this suppose to be him?

If Father gets replaced or dies, will he become like this?

The hunter turned his head to see the stunned illusionist, water pouring down to fill up the tank. And for a sheer glance alone, he could see him mouth the following words that shocked his core.

And then, he left.

His siblings are far from where he was chaired. And Heaven forbid will he let them rescue him like this.

The water is filling up to his knees.

Was this the end? He couldn't tell anymore.

After all, he knew he can turn the fates in his favor. He knew that, he was a magician! And by God will he just stop because he's stuck in a water tank!

As he felt his legs grow damp, he began to do anything in his power to get out. He tried to push the lid, perhaps use his own tricks to disappear from the tank.

He wanted to get out of this blasted tank. He was growing desperate.

At times like these, he wished he had his vision on his person.

But alas, no such luck.

His efforts rendered futile, and his desperation gnawed at him alive.

...

It's rising to his waist.

...

He wanted to crumble.

He couldn't hear the faint calling of a familiar voice— and a yelp from the hit by the grim-malkin cat. The one he had from his tricks.

He can vaguely recall how some of his tricks failed. How he and Lynette endured to get a sliver of fame, to even get a chance to perform.

This was one of those times.

He knew this moment awfully well. And the familiar despair began to get to his head.

...

It's rising to his chest.

...

Was this it? Is this the end of the road?

It can't be. I can't die here. I can't.

I can't stop here— why can't I do something? Why is there no exits here?

I can't simply drown in this tank and disappear. I don't want to disappear!

No, no, no—

Please, I need to see my sister again. I need to see my siblings again.

I refuse to sit here, and yet...

... I don't know what to do.

Can I even escape from this glass prison?

Can I escape the same prison I've been destined to be trapped in?

...

Then, it rises to his neck.

…

...

…

The seal of the tank opens.

Two hands grabs him, and with one full swoop, the playwright pulls the illusionist out as a way to rescue him.

Lyney was stunned when he felt the water leave him, and albeit he is dripping, he could smell the scent of parchment and ashes.

(Name).

"Are you okay, Lyney?" he heard them asked, watching as the tank closes but the water level remains the same. "Here," they added, handing him a syringe that they retrieved from the chests.

Am I okay?

"Come on, let's go—"

They yelped and went down as the hunter— himself— loomed over them, sighing.

"Oh, my dear poupée, you should've learned not to turn your back on a hunter!" his hunter identity said, but the playwright turned to wince and glare at him.

"Hah— and you should learn not to be so cocky."

Then, the sirens blared. And detention got ahold of the Knave.

With adrenaline, they shoved the now coherent illusionist.

"Run!" you yelled, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with them out of the big tent. "Detention will last in 2 minutes— and we'll both die if we get caught by him!"

And as soon as the two of you fled, the survivors could hear the ever familiar yet chilling laugh as the Knave is in pursuit of his showstopper.

No man will be left alive.

Not on his watch.

@.enxgmx-wrxtxr | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2023

#☁️ | drafted anecdotes #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact lyney #genshin lyney #lyney #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact au #genshin angst #lyney angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact lyney x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney x reader #astronetwrk

[nonexistent-introvert]

Seat Partners 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader (Classmates AU)

Word Count: 1.6k

Content: Fluff, Miguel being petty, this was self-indulgent

A/N: goodbye, I have barely any time to write but I still wanted to put something out there, I'm gonna disappear for god knows how long again

part 1

Miguel tried his best to stay focused on the novel he was reading. Staying focused was never an issue for a goal-driven person like him but something was different today. He caught himself looking up at the clock every few minutes, anxious about something he couldn’t pinpoint himself either. His fingers tap lightly on the table in a rhythm while he stared at the clock, watching the hour hand make its way back to the top. 

  Many people poured into the classroom around this time. He was one of the only people who would come to class early. When the bell rang, Miguel’s eyes searched for a figure outside in the hallways to no avail. He sighed, staring at the empty seat beside him. 

   You were always on the dot, never late. 

   Did you fall sick?

   Miguel forced himself to divert his attention back onto his novel. 

============

    You sat down with a sigh, running your hands through your hair. Miguel subtly glanced over to you from his seat. You had taken off your jacket which was wet, now hung over your chair while you leaned against it. His ears registered the heavy rain pounding against the class’s windows. Miguel played with the corner of his page when he realised that you were late because of the rain. 

   “Detention?” He asked, not looking up from his novel.

     “Strike one” you corrected him with a scowl. 

     “It wasn’t my fault that the stupid bus didn’t come because of the rain. “ you complained. “And you got drenched.” Miguel continued for you. You shook your head, dropping your head onto the table. “Actually, I didn’t mind the rain. At least it was cooling.” You admitted. That caused Miguel to look up, a look of disbelief on his face. He didn't think anyone would like getting drenched. At that exact moment, a memory resurfaced in Miguel’s mind. 

    Miguel had witnessed you in the rain on multiple occasions. There was one particular reason why you caught his eye. Simply because while everyone was trying to evade the rain, running for their lives to the shelters. You walked at a normal pace despite the rain, you took off your glasses and stuffed them into your pockets, as though you were perfectly content with the fact that your clothes were slowly getting soaked through. 

   Then there was the other time when he watched you give up your umbrella to an old lady with her grandson from the class window. You smiled at them, waving goodbye to the little boy before walking into the heavy rain. The water was practically up to your ankles and yet, it didn’t seem to bother you. He then watched as the discipline master reprimanded you for being late, your fists clenched by your sides while you accepted your fate. 

   “Oh I forgot you tend to do that.” He looked back at his novel with an exhale. . You raised your eyebrows, giving him a skeptical look. Miguel cleared his throat, unwilling to elaborate on his comment. You stared at him further, a teasing smile on your face. 

    “Have you been looking at me?”

   Miguel remained silent. You averted your gaze from him, maybe you crossed a line. “Ok, never mind-“ 

   “I was staring at the fool who was willingly getting drenched in the rain,” Miguel replied. You grinned, over the last week, you have come to appreciate his replies no matter what they are. “The first time was curiosity. But the multiple times after that is kinda suspicious Miguel.” Miguel closed his novel, putting it aside to focus his attention on the conversation. “And how do you know that?” Miguel questioned. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You know that I tend to do that. That means you could have only formed that conclusion after you noticed it multiple times.” Miguel stared blankly at you, a small grin tugging on his lips. 

“Ah, so you’re capable of logical reasoning after all.” You clicked your tongue in annoyance at his comment. He chuckled, “That skill will help you in math.” He teased. “Stop trying to change the subject Miguel, I must have hit bullseye huh?” You snarked. Miguel furrowed his eyebrows at you, letting out another sigh. “I saw you give up your umbrella to the old woman and her grandson.” He simply replied. You looked at him blankly, taking the time to recall what he was referring to. “That was years ago, like- two years ago.” The surprise was evident in your voice. You let out a laugh, “I didn’t even know you existed two years ago.” Miguel resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “I was in the same class as you.” He deadpanned. “Yeah, but we never talked. I forgot about your existence.”You replied bluntly. 

  Miguel had to physically swallow the lump in his throat. You didn’t need to be that honest. 

===

   “You’re so petty, Miguel.” You groaned, trying to peek at his notebook. Miguel was determined to cover his notes from you. “I was just being honest Miguel, We didn’t talk, how was I supposed to remember?” You defended. Miguel sat up straighter, his hand scribbling as he took down notes. 

  “I don’t exist to you anyways.” He said. You groaned out in agony, regretting your choice of words. Ever since you had admitted thast Miguel didn’t leave a strong impression on you he had been acting cold towards you just out of pure pettiness. 

   “Petty Miguel.” You decided to give Miguel a new nickname. “Thank you.” He simply replies, taking no offense to your nickname. You narrowed your gaze at him before you realised that he had misinterpreted your nickname for him. 

  “Petty! Not pretty!” You corrected. His eyes widen and he clears his throat in embarrassment. “You’re really not helping your case.” He retorts instead. You mutter something about his over-inflated ego while you look around class. 

   A grin appeared on your face as you glanced back at Miguel. He was still stubborn as ever, barely even sparing you a glance. You huffed at him, you didn’t need to rely on him. You leaned forward in your chair. “Oscar, Oscar. Can I borrow your notes?” Oscar passed his notes to you, scrawled on loose scraps of paper instead of an actual notebook. “Thanks, you’re a blessing.” You told him, taking his notes. Oscar chuckled, “Tell me if you don’t understand anything.” You nodded, the contrast in character between Oscar and Miguel was astonishing to say the very least. Oscar and you had become close friends since the both of you were constantly being paired up. “It must be fate.” Oscar always joked but it was hard to deny that fate didn’t have a play on this matter when the both of you just so happened to always be sitting near each other or randomly paired up together. You tapped Oscar’s shoulder again, pointing at a section on his notes and questioning him. You noticed Miguel’s head turn towards the both of you while Oscar tried his best to explain his words to you. “I can take it from here,” Miguel interjected, gesturing to the teacher who was eyeing the small commotion in your area. You clicked your tongue in annoyance at Miguel. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Mr. Top of the class can explain it ten times better than me,” Oscar reassured before turning back to face the front. You smiled back at Oscar while you looked at your notes, trying to make sense of it. “So, are you going to ask me any questions or are you just going to stare at the words and hope you magically get an epiphany?” Miguel started sarcastically. “Oh, are you talking to me now?” You feigned shock. “I made your grades my personal responsibility so I guess I have to make sure you’re doing alright.” 

    “Aw, should I thank you for offering me help now and making my grades your personal responsibility? I am so honored.” You said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes at you. “You’re welcome, my partner.” He quipped, playing along. Miguel tapped his pen on your table, “Now you treat me as your personal Google and ask me anything you don’t know.”

=======

    “You’re free right?” Miguel’s voice reached you while you were packing up. You glanced at him suspiciously, first, he admitted that he paid attention to you, secondly, he was patient and cleared up many doubts you had, and now he was asking if you were free? “Let’s study together.” He said, trying to act nonchalant although you noticed him trying to avoid your eye. “It’s a Friday.” You groaned at him. “And?” “Fridays are meant for relaxing.” You told him. “The library is quiet and peaceful, it is perfectly relaxing.” He defended. You narrowed your gaze at him, “I don’t get a say in this do I?” He shook his head, his lips quirking upwards.” Nope.” he popped the ‘p’ in emphasis. You groaned, glancing at the door behind him, calculating the probability of you just running past him and home. “You can’t outrun me.” Miguel shut down your idea as though he could read your mind. As a last resort, you placed your palms together, “Please…? Just let me off this week, I’ll study with you next week.” You pleaded. Miguel chuckled at your antics. “Maybe if you get on your knees and beg me.” 

   Your face flushed at his words, why did you even contemplate doing it? Before you could drop to your knees, he pulled you out of the classroom with him by the handle on your backpack. “I’ll buy you food alright?” He offered instead. 

   “Fine.” You conceded. Your emotions are still in overdrive at his words.

#miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider-man #into the spider verse #spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

[mrsparrasblog]

Highschool AU pt.2

Summary: You and your Brother moved away from Austria because of your parents Divorce, making you attend Northbridge Academy in Exeter, England. On your first day you meet the bullied Simon Riley and the overly extroverted John MacTavish. As if dealing with puberty, sports and your grades wasn't hard enough you fell in love not only with your Bestfriend Simon but also with Johnny, that Johnny was in love with both of you didn't make the Dynamic better

Pt.1

November 1990

As the days passed, you fell into a comfortable routine. You made a point to sit next to Simon in every class, despite Johnny's attempts to claim the seat besides you. You got used to Johnny though; he was funny and surprisingly smart. He even beat you in physics once, which made you incredibly mad. You always wanted to excel in academics; sometimes it felt like it was the only thing you were good at—getting good grades. If you couldn't be good at that, what special thing would be left in you?

"Lizzie, it's just an A, who cares if it's not an A+? You won't die from it," Simon nagged. He never understood your drive to excel in school. He wasn’t bad himself, though; he mostly got Bs, especially in math, history, and chemistry. He had some Cs in English and Housekeeping —claiming it was unimportant for him that he did poorly in sewing. He was right, though; that's why you didn’t pick that incredibly dumb subject and chose advanced German instead, which was like a free pass for you. Unfortunately, you were in the same class as John, the annoying new friend of your brother. He was always so flirty, although he was cute.

"How do you know? Maybe I'll fall dead on the ground in the next second."

"Would be a blessing for some of us," Simon replied. After a few weeks of school, you were surprised to find out that Simon wasn’t like he looked. He wasn’t shy and uncomfortable; he pulled lots of jokes—bad ones—next to you. Worse, his humor was dry and mean, making you chuckle all the time, which he secretly loved.

"You're an idiot, Si."

"And still, I'm your favorite, Lizzie."

"Only because Johnny isn’t a real challenge to you."

"Don’t let Johnny hear that; he will be mad."

"Maybe he needs a bit of an ego shrink," You laughed.

Simon and you walked towards your table. It was like in all those American movies you watched when you were allowed to watch TV. Tiffany and her squad had their own table, and then there were tables full of footballers where Kyle sat most of the time, except when Johnny begged him to sit with you. Michael, like the perfect big brother he was, was always where you were. And where Michael was, John and sometimes Nik would be, if he didn’t spend 90% of his time in detention.

Every Thursday was mail delivery day, the best part of the week. You always looked forward to a letter from Dad. He told you about all the different places he visited for work, and there was always a postcard in the letter. You had over 120 postcards, all placed on the wall of your dorm. At least that made you feel at home. Northbridge Academy wasn’t as bad as you feared at the beginning. The teachers were great, the school was fun, and you had Simon and Johnny. The only downside was my dorm mates. While the boys were more than lucky despite Si complaining about Michael's snoring, they still had a nice group. Meanwhile, you were stuck with Tiffany, Laurie, and Anne in a room, and it was even worse than you imagined.

Simon opened his mail, and his expression changed. He tried to regain his composure quickly, but he couldn't fool me. You knew something was up, so you poked him under the table, trying to get his mail. Surprisingly, he gave it to you without any further resistance, and for once, You wished he hadn’t.

Hello Simon, Im on a camping trip with your Mom and Thomas. Don´t bother coming over the long weekend. We wont be there. Stay at your trust fund school. Dad 

"Si—"

"No, Lizzie." He stood up and left the table, surprising everyone else who hadn’t noticed anything. Typical boys. You followed him into his dorm and sat next to him on the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's not a big deal, Lizzie. They're just on vacation."

"Is it?"

"Lizzie."

"You know you could come with Mich and me. Mom wouldn’t mind at all; she loves hosting people and all that stuff. We can spend more time together, and you don’t need to stay in this musty room—like, really, do you boys even clean?" You laughed at the chaos of the room. Everywhere, there were paint stains, football shoes, and, on what you guessed was Nik’s and John’s bed, an E-guitar was placed.

"Lizzie, it’s okay. You know I can practice a bit before the start of ice hockey season."

"Pleaseeeeeeee." You looked at him with puppy eyes. I needed him to come with me.

"Okay, but only this once." He agreed, and you gave him a big bear hug.

SIMONS POV 

"Whit dae ye mean ye gang hame wi' Ellie?"

"Was invited," I said shortly.

"Was invited too," John chimed in, while he tuned his guitar, making noises not safe for humanity.

"How come is a' body invited 'cept me?" Johnny started to whine. The answer would be easy for anyone with eyes: she doesn’t like his flirting, she is scared of things like this, and asking her to marry him after she gave him a cookie wasn’t the smartest choice.

"I wasn’t invited," Kyle replied shortly.

"You're not invited, Johnny, 'cause ye need to tone it down with my sister. She is only 13; she doesn’t care about boys right now. And asking her at any chance if she wants to marry you makes her scared. Ye don’t know anything about girls, do ye?" That was the most words I've heard from König since, well, ever, but he was right. Johnny needed to tone it down. I didn’t like how Lizzie felt insecure whenever he did it and clung to me. The truth is Lizzie wasn’t afraid of him or anything; she even liked Johnny as a friend. She just thought his advances were jokes. Johnny liked to joke a lot, giving him the reputation of a class clown. And so, his big gestures for her felt like a joke to her, especially since she was so insecure at heart. I just never understood why? She was smart, funny, much cooler than any other girl, and she was pretty, not that I would ever tell that to someone.

"Just trying to be good, König," Johnny muttered.

"If ye weren’t a lovesick little puppy, he’d probably punch you into oblivion," John mentioned.

"You can come too, Johnny," König replied, still giving him the big brother glance.

"Sweet."

"Wait, how do we all fit in a car?" I asked, afraid that Johnny would take my place, and I needed to stay here. But everyone just looked at me weirdly, and I didn’t know why.

The next day, on our way to Lizzie's house, I finally knew why. There was a fucking limousine with black windows, probably bulletproof, like in James Bond movies. A small man in his 50s walked outside of the car wearing a black suit and smiling as he walked towards Lizzie, taking her baggage from her hands.

"He doesn’t look like Lizzie’s Dad," I said. It was true; they didn’t look similar, but still, she hugged him like you’d hug a family member, I guess?

John started to laugh. "You really don’t know a lot about Beth." Beth? Why did he call my Lizzie Beth? That was a shitty name.

"I know a lot about her."

"Not about her world, little one." I hated it when people reduced me for my small frame. I didn’t want to be the skinny short boy walking behind Lizzie all the time in need of her support. At least she didn’t see me that way.

"Si, John, Johnny, that’s Alfred, he is our family, Butler," Lizzie said, smiling at Alfred like he was a family member more than a Butler.

We sat down in the limo. Lizzie, of course, sat next to me, much to the dislike of Johnny. He kinda grew on me, though; he was funny and extroverted, and he wasn’t as posh as Kyle, who was a nice bloke but just didn’t get it. He was always complaining, as if he had problems, of course, he hadn’t. He was rich, good at football, and good-looking.

Lizzie fell asleep after a while, her head resting on my shoulder. I didn’t dare to move for the rest of the ride. She looked so peaceful when she didn’t move her lips and spoke.

"Mate, that's unfair. Why does Lizzie sleep on you instead of me?" Johnny whined, but I ignored him. "I liked her first, brocade and everything, Simon."

"You don’t call dips on my sister, or I'll cut your tongue out," König spoke calmly. He was confusing me; he was mostly silent but always threatened everyone who came too close to Lizzie. He never threatened me though, of course not; no one saw a threat in me.

We arrived at a big white mansion, almost looking like the Buckingham Palace. I knew Lizzie was rich, but this rich? I should probably search Kortac up, what they did, and how her dad must be so rich.

John only shrugged as if it was nothing, making me feel like I was the dumb one. This wasn’t normal; why are they acting like this?

As I stepped into Lizzie's villa, my jaw practically hit the floor. I mean, I've seen big houses before, but this was something else. The entrance was like walking into a palace or something. The marble floors were so shiny

; I could see my reflection in them. And those pillars! They were taller than any trees I've ever seen, reaching up to a ceiling painted with fancy designs that made me feel like I was in a museum.

I couldn't help but gawk as I made my way through the place. The living room was like a dream. Soft, velvet couches and chairs were everywhere, so plush you could practically sink into them. Paintings and tapestries covered the walls, like something out of a history book. And don't even get me started on the fireplace! It was huge, with flames dancing and crackling like something out of a movie. All around were paintings that probably cost more than Mom's salary as a nurse.

The dining room was even more posh. A long, mahogany table stretched out in front of me, set with fancy plates and silverware that looked like they belonged in a museum. A chandelier hung overhead, sparkling with crystals and casting a warm light over everything.

In the kitchen, everything was shiny and new. Stainless steel appliances lined the walls, and there were bowls of fruit and baskets of bread everywhere. It smelled amazing, like something out of a cooking show. Chefs walked around the house; they had fucking chefs? I thought the Butler was much, but they had more staff. Didn’t rich people know how to cook for themselves?

As I wandered around, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. I mean, we have a house; it's nice and all, but it's nothing like this. Lizzie's family must be really rich to live in a place like this. But as much as I envied her, I couldn't help but feel grateful that she was my friend, never judging me because of my scholarship like Tiffany did, and by the looks of it, Tiffany wasn’t even half as wealthy as Lizzie and König are.

"Mutter, Vater, Ich dachte Papa ist in Salzburg gerade," König said. He sounded more confident when he spoke German.

Lizzie's parents looked like nice people; her Dad was the tallest man I've ever seen and looked a bit intimidating, while her mom looked a lot like Lizzie herself, just older.

"Dein Vater hat gehört, ihr kommt hier her und ist direkt gekommen," her dad replied.

"Also, seid ihr nicht wieder zusammen?" Lizzie’s voice sounded so different in German, but she still sounded nice and soft.

"Nein, und sprech Englisch, das ist unhöflich gegenüber deinen Gästen," her mom scolded, her voice too loud for the small room.

"So, who do we have here?" Lizzie’s father asked curiously.

"I'm John Price, sir."

"Oh, like William Price?"

"Yes, that's my old man."

"We worked together quite a bit for his campaign."

"Wait, my dad worked with Kortac?" John lost the color of his face, and I really needed to know what the fuck Kortac is.

"I'm Johnny MacTavish."

"Well, didn’t hear of your family," Lizzie’s dad mustered Johnny.

"Richard, be nice," Lizzie’s mom scolded, in a tone too loud for the room. "Okay, and you are?" She gestured to me.

"Simon Riley, nice to meet you both, sir," I replied politely, shaking his hand, only to get my hand crushed.

As I followed Lizzie's family into the dining room, I couldn't believe my eyes. The table was like something out of a fancy restaurant, but way bigger. There were so many dishes spread out that I had never seen or tried before. I mean, I knew what a salad was and some of the other stuff, but there were these little black things in jars that Lizzie's dad called "caviar." I had no idea what that was, but everyone seemed to be enjoying it, so I tried a tiny bit. It was salty and kinda strange, definitely not like anything I'd ever eaten. Johnny looked as confused as me; of course, the academy had fancy food, but this was weird. And so much different from what mom cooked for us, and I longed for her lasagna right now.

Then there were all these different forks and spoons and knives laid out next to the plates. I was used to just one fork and one spoon at home, but here, it was like a whole set of tools just for eating. I glanced over at Lizzie, who noticed my confusion and tried to discreetly explain which fork to use for which course. But I could tell I was still getting it wrong.

Lizzie's family seemed used to all this fancy stuff, chatting away as they effortlessly used their array of utensils. Meanwhile, I was struggling not to knock over a glass or use the wrong fork. Her mom smiled kindly at me and offered some advice on what to try next, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. John and König, of course, knew how to act. I noticed how Lizzie’s dad liked John, but Lizzie’s mom definitely liked me.

It was strange; they were so familiar with each other, chatting at dinner and laughing, listening to Lizzie ramble about the school teaching shitty German. It was so different than at home; no one screamed, no one cried, and, most importantly, no one punched each other.

Johnny and I slept in one of the various guest chambers, and it was so comfortable, the best sleep I've ever had until I heard Lizzie scream from next door. I ran towards her room; I didn’t know what was wrong, but I needed to find out.

She lay in her luxurious room, whining and shaking in her sleep. I always thought rich families like these never had any problems, but here she was having night terrors.

I sat next to her in bed, brushing my hand towards her silky hair. "I'm here, Lizzie, everything is good."

"Please don’t kill me; I don’t know anything," she cried, and then König walked in, pushing me to the side while grabbing her in his bulky arms, whispering to her something in German until she calmed down and slept peacefully again. Now, all of us stood in her room. I just wanted to comfort Lizzie, telling her everything would be fine again.

"What was this?" John asked.

"Nightmares."

"That’s more than nightmares, mate," Johnny said, earning a death glare from König. I didn’t know what I thought, but I stood up and walked towards her bed again, cuddling her like Mom and Dad always did. For the first time, I could protect someone, and I’d protect her like she protected me.

"LEAVE."

"No, she is my best friend; I won’t leave." Slowly, after minutes, John and Johnny climbed into Lizzie’s bed. All of us wanted to comfort the girl who gave us everything every day. And so all five of us played together in the bed, eager to protect her from whatever haunted her. It was nice; having her in my arms was the last thought before I slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #john price #captain john price #simon riley x you #john soap mactavish #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost fanfiction #john mactavish x reader #johnny #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #alternate universe #high school #dark academia #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Three

Part One, Part Two

Eddie waits till the end of the day to strike.

It's after four, and almost everyone has left for the day with the exception of the teachers and the janitor --who has already given Eddie the stink eye for remaining after hours for 'no reason'.

But Eddie does have a reason, a pretty decent one too.

He's waiting for King-Steve to get out of detention.

Turns out it didn't take until lunch for the whole school to hear about Harrington and Wheeler. In fact, the way Eddie heard, Steve had been ambushed not two minutes after his conversation with Nancy by Hagan and Hargrove.

Now here was where the story differed depending on who you heard it from.

Tammy Thompson told her lunch table that Steve freaked out when Hargrove started talking shit about Nancy.

Mark Holmes told Jim Cutter that Hagan got punched in the face and Hargrove was simply defending his friend from Steve.

Sarah March told Jeff in their homeroom that Steve wound up with a black eye after gym class that morning and was almost suspended for the week.

Eddie knows there must be a thread of truth linking all of these stories together. And at this point, he'd much rather hear it straight from the source.

Plus with a black eye Harrington would be needing those glasses back.

Eddie snaps the gum in his mouth and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he leans against locker 109, certain that Steve will have to stop by before he leaves.

"Munson?"

Speak of the devil.

Eddie tilts slightly in the direction of the voice and blows out a low whistle at the sight of the shiner on Steve's face.

It's already a deep purple, though it isn't as swollen as Eddie would have thought. It matches the colour of the bags under Steve's good eye and is accentuated by how strangely pale he looks today. Steve's lip is also split down the middle, blood staining his polo collar.

Huh, so it didn't happen in gym.

"Looks like someone had an interesting day," Eddie smiles as he crosses one leg over the other and taps the tip of his chuck on the linoleum, Steve winces at the harsh squeak it makes.

"Look Munson, whatever you want, just get it over with," Steve manages to say through gritted teeth, his hands have clenched into loose fists but the same tremor from the night before has returned in full force.

Eddie pushes himself off of Steve's locker and watches as the other man tenses. Eddie rolls his eyes and reaches behind himself, grabbing the shades from where they are hanging off his back pocket. Steve's gaze follows Eddie's movements and barely halts a flinch as the sunglasses are tossed into his chest.

Steve only seems to catch them with his latent jock ability but still nearly drops them in surprise.

"You left these in my van last night," Eddie shrugs at the way Steve's head tilts slightly, he looks from the glasses in his hand to Eddie and back again with a frown.

"Oh," he breathes out, and the tension drops from Steve's frame like the strings holding him up are all at once severed.

"First a taxi service, now a courier," Eddie smirks, dropping his left hand to his hip, "how ever will you make it up to me Harrington?"

Steve grimaces, rubbing a hand down his face, he winces as it brushes the deepening bruise under his eye, "I'm sure you're about to tell me".

Eddie grins, pretending to consider his options as he lifts a ringed hand to his chin to hold it thoughtfully for a beat while Steve stands before him, looking more and more frustrated with every passing second.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie says with a sly smile as he steps closer, nearly into Steve's space, and leans in.

"Maybe you'll owe me one," Eddie winks as he says it before dropping his voice into a wheezing Italian affectation, "perhaps one day soon I'll call upon you for a favor--"

"What?" Steve sputters out in a strangled laugh, leaning away from Eddie's sudden proximity.

From this angle Eddie can see the slightest flush creeping down Steve's neck.

"The Godfather? You know?" Eddie raises an eyebrow at the blank expression on Steve's face, "I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse?"

Steve's brow pinches in confusion as he shakes his head.

"I mean," Eddie huffs, moving out of Steve's space again, "you'd probably like it, you have plenty of practice rejecting offers don't ya big boy?"

It takes a second for the words to register for both of them.

Steve's eyebrows cut creases across his forehead as they rise into his hair and Eddie immediately wants to fling himself off the gymnasium roof.

Of all the stupid, stupid things--

"Is this about the weed?" Steve asks slowly with a frown wrinkling his nose, it would be cute if Eddie wasn't beside himself with relief.

Focus.

"Yup," Eddie manages to say with a straight face despite the way his heart is racing. He clears his throat and leans backwards to drape himself against the lockers again, miscalculating how far he's moved away from them after Steve showed up.

Eddie loses his footing and slams into the metal with a loud bang, sliding down onto the floor in a leather clad heap.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie hears from above him, opening his eyes to find a pair of wide hazel ones staring into his own.

"Did you hit your head?"

Eddie ignores the question and the heat that rises in his face and ears. He wants nothing more at this moment than to tell Steve to fuck off, to leave him to crawl into a hole now and finally live the rest of his days as a Hobbit.

But King-Steve is persistent.

"Come on Munson, we should go before someone comes to see what happened, I'm not getting another detention for you," Steve huffs as he holds a hand out in front of Eddie.

Eddie looks from the outstretched hand in front of him, to Steve's face. His stupid, earnest, beautiful face, and takes his hand, grunting as he rises back to his feet.

A door opens down the hall, near the admin office and both men freeze as a pair of heels begin to click and clack their way down the hall.

"Shit," Eddie hisses at the same time Steve barks out a frantic, "Go, go, go!"

They scramble to get away from the lockers and make a beeline for the side exit, a mixture of laughter and curses echoing after them.

Eddie doesn't stop running until he reaches the driver's side door of his van.

He pants out a wild laugh and shakes his head as Steve bends at the waist with his hands braced on his knees. When Steve rights himself, there's a flush of exertion and a bright smile that is only slightly marred by the black eye and split lip.

"You're a trip Harrington," Eddie breathes out before clutching his throat, "I think I swallowed my gum back there".

Steve laughs loud and bright and Eddie can't help but watch the way his head tips back, exposing the long column of his neck. He looks up again, his eyes seem to search Eddie's face briefly before he shakes his head with an expression Eddie's never seen before.

"Yeah well," Steve huffs, his good eye crinkles at the corner from his smile, "you're not what I thought you'd be like either Munson".

And Eddie just doesn't know what to do with that.

Instead, he clears his throat and kicks at a piece of gravel that careens across the empty student parking lot.

"Where's your noble steed?" Eddie asks, his head on swivel. Harrington's car was fairly iconic around here, no way it would have been missed among the sea of beat up Ford's and Gremlins.

Steve tilts his head and frowns slightly, "I left it at Tina's remember?"

And yeah, shit, that makes sense, he must have caught the bus that morning and completely missed it with detention.

"...do you need a ride?"

"Okay".

Part four up!

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @strangersteddierthings @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

#stranger things #stranger things season 2 au #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #steve and nancy breakup #what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party? #this fic is going places apparently #eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here #add a little bit of misunderstandings in the van as a treat #i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus #you can pry them from my cold dead fingers #afewproblems writes #cw marijuana #cw injury #eddie is a clumsy goblin man and i will die on that hill #well love a man that can make us laugh with his antics and so does steve

[shadowyricecake]

Exploding butterfly shrooms

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ⊹ ۪ ﾟ｡⋆☾ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ｡⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ⊹ ۪ ﾟ｡⋆☾ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ｡⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫

Hogwarts au ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Jay x reader SNEAK : Rivals Y/n & Jay? Detention = torture. But a forbidden forest adventure & a hungry Bugbear spark something unexpected... maybe even love? WARNING: This story contains mentions of bugbears, blood sucking creatures, and close calls in the Forbidden Forest. Proceed with caution...or a Patronus Charm at the ready ━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺

Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon)

‎‧₊˚✧["So It's Now Or Never, Isn't It?"]✧˚₊‧

"Merlin's beard! That pitch!" I hollered, practically sprinting towards the Quidditch field with my team trailing behind. A week of wrangling with the booking gnomes, and finally, the pitch was ours... or so I thought! Those slimy Slytherins, of course, occupying the pitch at our precious time slot!

"PARK JONGSEONG!" I bellowed, my voice reaching octaves previously unknown. The smug git himself, with his signature infuriating smirk, sauntered over.

"Well, well, well," I began, frustration bubbling like a cauldron on high heat. "Isn't this a surprise? Our appointed hour, and here you Slytherins are, playing house on our pitch!"

Park just chuckled, that annoying, arrogant sound that could curdle milk. "Not anymore, it seems, Gryffindor."

"Not anymore? What d'you mean, 'not anymore'? I booked this pitch ages ago! Get your broomsticks and yourselves off this turf, or Madam Hooch will be hearing all about it!"

Park feigned a dramatic gasp, clutching his robes. "Oh no, please, Gryffindor, don't tell Madam Hooch! Whatever will become of me?" he whimpered in a sickeningly sarcastic voice. His little team, of course, erupted in laughter, the sound like hyenas feasting on a particularly juicy Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

Frustration bubbled over. This weasel wasn't stealing our pitch without a fight. "Tarantallegra!" I shouted, aiming for Jay's kneecaps. But the weasel dodged like a greased ferret. The next thing I knew, spells were flying faster than a rogue bludger in a crowded match. Let's just say Park puts up a decent fight.

Our little(not-so-little) duel attracted quite the crowd – students, ghosts (probably Peeves, placing bets), even a couple of professors with that "not this again" look on their faces – even Professor McGonagall materialized out of thin air, looking like she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"ENOUGH!" she roared, her voice cracking like a whip. We both froze, wands sputtering. "Detention! Three weeks! No arguments!" she declared before turning to the gawking crowd. "Don't you all have classes to be in ? Shoo!" ”Now both of you, off to my office before I take anymore points from your precious houses!”

We stood there, glaring at each other like grumpy pixies guarding their treasure, detention looming over our heads like a Dementor's kiss

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━-----━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺

(In Professor McGonagall's office)

"He started it!" I protested, the injustice burning a hole in my pocket.

"You jinxed me first!" Park countered, a pout forming on his face.

"Only because you stole our pitch!" I retorted, my voice rising.

"Well, I wouldn't have had to if—"

"Enough!" Professor McGonagall interjected, her voice like nails on a chalkboard.

"You two cause more mayhem than a pack of pixies on sugar quills! Settle this like civilized witches and wizards, or I'll be stripping you both of your precious Quidditch captaincies !”

That escalated quickly. Looks like I had a choice to make – swallow my pride and work with Park, or say goodbye to leading the Gryffindor Quidditch team to victory. We slunk out of the office. Park opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"Look, I don't have time for this, and I definitely don't want to lose my captaincy."

"Neither do I," Park grumbled.

"So, truce?" I sighed, extending a hand towards him.

Park stared at it for a moment, then shook it… but not before shooting a stinging hex at my palm with a smirk. "Did you not hear Professor McGonagall, Potter? Dimwitted as ever, I see.”

Jay, the rotten scoundrel, just grinned. Looks like this whole "working together" thing was going to be a real laugh riot.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━-----━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺

Three days into our shared detention purgatory, and I already wanted to shove a Snitch up Park's nose. Professor McGonagall, in a cruel twist of fate, decided to make our schedules identical for "maximum cooperation." Joy. That meant I was stuck with his pointy-haired self from sunrise to curfew. I'm stuck with Jay for the entirety of every day, from Herbology to bloody History of Magic (turns out Park's idea of polite is asking if I want my fingernails clipped… with his wand).

So here I am, chilling in the Hidden Garden (well, not exactly hidden, but most students are oblivious) . Mealtimes are the only escape from Park's annoyingly perfect presence. As I lie here contemplating the wonders of the cosmos (and how much I loathe jay), it dawns on me – this all started in second year, when we were both Seekers with a competitive streak a mile long. Ever since then, it's been non-stop bickering.

Maybe it's because he's got it all – looks, quidditch skills, top grades (the git). Me? Well, at least I'm good at Quidditch and jinxing self-important Slytherins. The rest is, well, a work in progress.

As I drifted off under the warm sun, an object landed on my chest. A… sandwich? I looked up to see ………..Jay ? , his expression unreadable.

"Last time you offered me food, I ended up in the hospital wing," I said, eyeing the sandwich with suspicion. "Not falling for that again, Park."

"Relax, I didn’t do anything to it. It's just a sandwich. We need to be able to tell Flobberworms from decent ones for detention, remember? Besides, if you faint from hunger, I'll have to do all the work."

"Why would you care?" I scoffed.

"Care about you? Don't be ridiculous , if you faint from hunger, I'll have to do all the work. This is purely out of self-preservation." ”Sure, Park. Whatever you say”

But maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of something… not-completely-unpleasant in his eyes. Nah. Must be the fumes from the greenhouses or maybe the Hungarian Horntail droppings they made us clean up.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━-----━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺

Detention with in the forbidden forest? Sign me up! This time, we weren't stuck weeding Herbology greenhouses or scraping Flobberworm mucus off toadstools (although, knowing our luck, that was probably next). I practically skipped alongside Hagrid, a giddy smile plastered on my face to snag some Exploding Shrumpheads – those funky fungi used in Fire-Protection Charms. Meanwhile, Jay shuffled behind us like a lost Puffskew.

"Alright, you lot," Hagrid boomed, his voice somehow even louder than usual in the eerie silence of the forest. "Remember, stick close, and those Burst-Caps you're after? Grab 'em quick and careful. Nasty little buggers can give you a right singin' in the ears if you don't handle 'em proper."

Jay, raised an eyebrow. "But Hagrid, where are you going? Aren't you supposed to, you know, supervise us or somethin ?"

Hagrid scratched his beard, a thoughtful look on his massive face. "Well, now, there's a bit of a... situation with Fang and a particularly plump Hippogriff down by the lake. Shouldn't take long, though! You lot just be good and I'll be back before you can say 'Flibbertigibbet!'" With that, he vanished into the oppressive darkness of the forest, leaving us bathed in an unsettling silence .

"Let's just get this over with," Jay grumbled, carefully plucking a mushroom.

He clearly wasn't thrilled. A smug smile played on my lips. "Scared, are you?"

He shot me an irritated look before returning to his task. We worked in eerie silence, broken only by the hooting of owls and the rustle of unseen creatures. As I approached a tree brimming with mushrooms, a sudden yank pulled me back. A hand clamped over my mouth, stifling my scream. Panic jolted through me, but a familiar cologne told me it was Jay.

"Don't move," he whispered urgently in my ear. "Blood-sucking Bugbear."

Peeking through the leaves, I saw it – a hulking monstrosity with razor-sharp claws tearing into a deer antler. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen in a textbook. Pure terror locked my legs in place.

Jay grabbed me, leading us away with silent urgency, but with a sickening crunch, one of us stepped on a Bursting Mushroom. The resulting explosion covered us with burns and spores ,echoed through the trees, and the Bugbear whipped its head towards us, glowing red eyes fixated on its new prey. We were trapped, the forest alive with a new kind of fear. Run. That was the only thought in our heads. We sprinted through the dense undergrowth, dodging rocks and branches, the Bugbear's roar a terrifying symphony of hunger close behind.

Suddenly, Jay scooped me up and hurled us both onto a thick branch high above the forest floor. We clung to the tree , gasping for breath, as the Bugbear lumbered below, searching for us with its glowing red eyes. Fear, cold and primal, coiled in my gut. Our breaths came in ragged gasps as we hear the Bugbear's frustrated roars echoing around us. Some time passed as we tried to settle our racing hearts and ragged breathing .

I registered our position. I was pressed against Jay's chest, his arm wrapped protectively around me. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his, his own racing beneath my cheek. The terror had morphed into something else – a strange awareness of him, of the warmth radiating from his body… But that could wait. Right now, all that mattered was escaping the hungry beast below.

╰─ - ̗̀ entry will update soon… ░༄ quote. 🥡

┆🥘┆🍙 ┆🍮 ✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: .✦ . :★. ───✧ ☆ "quote"

#enhypen #enhypen ff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen jay #park jongseong #jay ff #jongseong x reader #jay enhypen #Hogwarts #jongseong ff #enhypen hogwarts au #enhypen jay ff

[fallingintoyourlilaceyes]

"Back to school"- The kissing booth AU Chapter One

part 2 of 4 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Reader, side modern!Aemond Targaryen x modern!Floris Baratheon

summary: You get yourself in trouble on your first day back in school, go to a party and it´s time for the fundraiser. But nothing could possibly go wrong there, right?

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of sexual harrasment, underage partying and drinking

Taglist: @fan-goddess

(If you want to be tagged in this fic or any specif character taglists, send me an ask)

Now that you sat in front of the principal's office, looking down at the fingers that were playing in your barely covered lap, you questioned your whole existence. You were never one to get into trouble and now you had gotten yourself into exactly that by simply refusing to stay home. 

Aegon´s sigh beside you as he puts an ice pack to his busted lip pulls you from your thoughts.

“What?” your voice is a sharper than you intended to, but you don´t care. He was part of the reason why you were here now anyway. 

“I know you are naïve and all, but I never would have thought you would be naïve enough to come to school dressed like that and think nothing would happen.” He says dismissively. 

“I beg your pardon?” You turn to him, glaring daggers into his form that is still not looking at you. 

“Your skirt. You were practically asking for something to happen.” He turns to point at your exposed thighs. 

You scoff and open your mouth to give a retort, but right in that moment the principal calls you into his office. 

“It wasn´t my fault, I swear.” You start to defend yourself, before you even sit down. “My pants ripped and then my backups weren’t there and so I only had this left.” 

“Alright, just calm down.” The principal tells you in a slow voice that you assume is supposed to sound soothing, but you are close to tears with fury and embarrassment. Pulling down the short uniform skirt non-stop. 

“Calm down? I can´t calm down. A guy just grabbed my lady bum.” You almost whisper the last sentence. 

“Calm down? I can´t calm down. A guy just grabbed my lady bum.” You almost whisper the last sentence. 

“And he will have to face the consequences for that. Unfortunately, you broke a rule as well. The length of this skirt is a violation of the dress code. That means detention. Tomorrow.” 

Detention goes about as well as it could have. With Aegon sulking behind you on one side, rolling his eyes, shaking his head and scoffing ever so often and the guy that had grabbed you on the other side. As it turns out he is kind of cute though. Apologizing to you in earnest, effectively landing him your number and a date. 

Which kind of immediately gets temporarily forgotten that same afternoon, as Aemond drags you shopping. You slump in a chair in front of the changing rooms, waiting for him as the two of you brainstorm ideas for the fundraiser. A task that gradually grows to be more difficult than thought. Every new idea turns out to be taken by another club already, your legs bouncing more out of control with every rejected notion. Ending with you rubbing your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time. 

“Ugh, this is so stupid…” You groan and let your head hang over the back of the chair. 

When the sound of the curtain sounds off and you look at Aemond, it takes you a moment for the world to stop spinning, while he just stands there waiting for your judgement.

“You know I´m not much help with this stuff… Why do you even care that much how you´re gonna look at the party?”

“Because Alys is gonna be there and I really want to kiss her?” He replies in a dry tone. As if it is ridiculous that you even have to ask and honestly, now that you think about it, you probably should´ve known.

“Today was literally the first time the OMGs ever spoke to me. Plus, she is a cheerleader.” It still confused you majorly that they did in the first place.

“So? Baby steps.”

“She probably wouldn´t even make out with you is if you´d pay for it, Aem... Sorry…” When you look into his eye, instead of finding him hurt you see an idea bouncing around in his brain. As if someone out in the universe had silently counted to three you burst out at the same time.

“Kissing booth!” It feels so good to finally not have to worry about that anymore, but with the relief also comes back another sinking feeling. The one you get every time you think about the date.

“What is one even supposed to do on a date?” You ask Aemond as you sit down in a small café.

“I don´t know, like… sit and eat… I guess.” At his answer the two of you look down at the food in front of you. Exploding into laughter momentarily. You ignore the dirty looks the people around you are throwing your way.

“Seven hells, I´m so lost…”

“Come on, stop fidgeting. You´re gonna be great. And if he doesn´t see what a badass you are that´s his loss. Alright?” Aemond takes your hand to stop it from picking at the seam of your dress.

“I just… Okay, I mean I don´t really believe you, but alright.” You sigh and with your hands still restrained by his, all you can do to soothe your nerves is checking your makeup in the mirror one last time. As Aemond drives off you have half a mind to call him back right that moment. But you know what he would say and so you woman up, calm your trembling legs, wipe your sweaty hands on your dress and wait for your date to show up. Fifteen minutes after your agreed time he isn´t there. You take a deep breath and tell yourself to keep calm. He´s just running a bit late. Thirty minutes later you can´t help the second thoughts sinking in. And when you still wait in front of the restaurant an hour later, with no message or calls you finally called Aemond to pick you up again. You thank him countless times for trying to take your mind off the failure that was supposed to be your first date and he is a real friend, letting you bitch about it the entire time. When suddenly you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

Your head whips around, the expression on your face speaks of more than just hurt feelings.

“Hey…” Your `date´ waves awkwardly, the black eye form the fight still sitting prominently on his face. “I came to… to apologize. I-“

“Yeah. One would think an apology is the least you could do.” You snark back.

“I know, but I had my reasons, okay? You gotta believe me. Targaryen has been going around for years, threatening every guy that planned on asking you out. And I won´t catch another black eye or broken nose or possibly worse for a pair of boobs.”

All the words you wanted to tell him before, get stuck in your throat and only come out in a scoff and a shaken head as he leaves. Lips pressed in a tight line and a curt nod.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You try to keep calm as you call Aegon that night. Which, much like your date, terribly fails. “Who in the seven hells told you that it was okay to go around keeping guys away from me?”

“I´m just trying to protect you. You´re naïve, but I know how guys really are.“ He argues back, but you can still hear the smile on his face.

“Oh, fuck off. You do not control me any longer. End of discussion.”

“Sure, we´ll see about that.” There it is again. That unmistakably smug smile on his face that can´t be hidden by his voice. With a frustrated yell you hang up on him and throwing your phone onto your bed.

Pitching your idea of the kissing booth doesn´t make you feel all too great either. Student council is more than just doubtful of the whole thing and Aemond isn´t any help at all as well. The only way you are able to convince them, is by lying about Aegon participating. Sadly, persuading student council doesn´t mean everyone else was ready to participate. Not on the manning the booth side at least. Upon asking most of your year, your phone blows up with messages of refusal. 

It makes you glad to get a break from all of it in the form of a party. Something you get excited about to early. The problems follow you there as well. Of course they do. First Aemond tries to talk you into talking to his brother and then the OMGs call you over to them. You don´t even finish greeting them, when Talya holds a Jello shot in your face. 

“Here, you need to taste this. Tastes green.” Her voice sounds over the loud music. 

Your heart beats higher as the alcohol burns down your throat, yet the girls don´t give you a break. Johanna and Alys talk at you to get you to go over to Aegon and ask him to do the booth, who is currently busy making out with some older girl. For the sake of everyone's well-being and to not catch anyone's attention, you ignore the pull at your heart and after another shot from Talya, you get pushed into the elder Targaryen´s direction.

You clear your throat once and then twice before they notice you. You have never seen the girl before, but she is arguably tipsy already and immediately gets mad at you. Shoving you as she tells you to get lost. You go to defend yourself, but Aegon beats you to it. Telling the girl that you are like a sister to him, and she needs to get. There is another stab in your heart. No one wants their crush to put them in the sibling zone after all. 

“Sorry, for ruining that for you…” Your voice is barely audible over the music. 

“Nah, it´s okay.” He waves your intrusion off with a small smirk that always seems to rest on his lips. 

“Now, that you are alone though… I wanted to ask, if you would help with our kissing booth for the fundraiser?” You try to smile and look as cute as possible to hopefully get a yes out of him. 

“Never.” He chuckles. Thus, sending you back to your new `friends´. 

When the girls ask you what he said, you put on a mask and just tell them “He basically does whatever I ask, but…” You put a finger to your lips. 

The rest of the party goes by much easier and with a whole lot more alcohol. Though you would not remember any of it the next day. Not the many games of beer pong or the Jello shots or may the gods know what else you drank. And most importantly you don´t remember how you started to dance on a table, pulling off your shirt for everyone to see or being caught and carried to a bed that isn´t yours right as you begin to fall.

What you think you will remember forever is the all-consuming and mind-numbing hangover the morning after. Looking around once the daylight isn´t so blinding anymore, you recognize it is Aegon’s room you´re in. At that realization you hurriedly check the state of your clothing under the blanket, to find yourself out of the clothes from last night and in Aegon’s football jersey. The gods didn´t mean you well after either. Right as you plan to sneak out of bed and find your clothes before anyone else can see you Aegon enters the room. You try to hide yourself behind the blanket as you bicker with him about the happenings of the previous night and getting to your clothes. So busy, that you don´t even realize your legs had tangled up in the blanket, making you fall on top of him.

Aegon laughs about the whole thing, as always. You on the other hand are utterly humiliated by the time you are dressed and leave the room to join Aemond, who is already up and way too cheery for what happened the night before. On the other hand, he hands you an emergency kit to cure the thundering headache so you can´t be too mad at him overall.

As it seems you have more reason to be mad at yourself anyway. May the seven damn all alcohol for making you tell everyone Aegon, who even now you can´t stop thinking about, would do the booth.

 Building the booth with Aemond is a lot more fun than any of the process before was. You are so stressed out with planning everything, so when his brush hits your skin, turning the skin it touched in a stripe of paint, your first reflex is to give him a taste of his own medicine. Through the laughter and fun, things quickly get out of hand. Ending with you covered in paint all over, as he is a much better shot when it comes to flinging the paint at you without seeing much or being hit with it himself. All the while you can´t even really open your eyes anymore, because there is so much paint on your face.

It leads you right into your next… mishap.

In your almost blinded state, you stumble into the closest changing room, thinking it´s the girls one. Your shirt comes off in a swift motion, the color splashes already starting to dry. Over the sound of the running water in the sink you don´t hear the quiet giggles.

It only erupts into full blown laughter and whistles when you turn around. Still covered in paint, but finally able to see again. They don´t even stop when you feel Aegon´s presence behind you. He lays a hand on your shoulder, trying to shield your half naked body from the spectators and pulling you out of the room simultaneously. However, in his own self-assuredness he forgot your promise that he wouldn´t control you anymore. So, you make sure to run an extra round through the full changing room, leaving with a smug smile on your face and your shirt over your shoulder. Reveling in the disappointed look on his.

After that incident preparations come along great and in no time, you are ready for the fundraiser to arrive. You eat cotton candy and check out the other attractions with Aemond, giggling at the irony of some clubs' choices. Aemond leaves you to go and prepare as you approach Aegon one last time. Asking him for help one last time. 

“Look who´s come crawling for help…” His tone is so cynical it stings. 

“Ugh, forget it. I just thought it would be nice for you to do something for people that care about you… Guess I was wrong.” You hide the frown by turning around and trudging off. 

And then it is time to open your own booth. You put on a happy mask and slide the name plates of the first two people in, handing them their blindfolds. Meanwhile Aemond greets the small cluster that has built in front of the makeshift cash register. 

“Alright! First off for the ladies: Jason Lannister! And for the guys: Johanna Lannister!” 

“Tickets can be bought right here; all sales and smooches are final.” You add and smile as the crowd cheers. 

You and Aemond basically get bombarded with money and so the kissing booth starts off as what you would call a great success. Well, one shouldn´t count their chickens before they hatch, or so they say.

After a while there is a rising uproar, commanding for Aegon.

“Targaryen! Targaryen! Targaryen!” You hear the crowd chanting.

Giving Aemond a panicked look he does something you would have never expected of him. He snatches a blindfold and gets out on stage to replace Jason. Your explanation that it was in fact `Targaryen´ up there, still turns away 99% of the girls. First and foremost, Alys. Which makes you feel hurt for your already blindfolded friend. Then, to your surprise, Floris Baratheon steps forward and pulls him into a passionate kiss. You step aside with them. They look so happy you feel like throwing up.

“It sure is okay to let you man the booth alone, right? We just wanted to have some more fun at the fair before the night is over.” Aemond looks half worried for you, but you know the happiness of the moment overweighs that.

“Yeah, of course I am sure. Now go, before I change my mind.” You smile brightly. Aemond and Floris look so cute it is easy for you to abide by rule number 18 of your friendship rules. Always be happy for your besties successes.

When you return to the action you are right on time to stand in Johanna´s way as she storms off stage. “I can´t do this!”

Looking past the curtain you see one of the nerds picking his nose as he is waiting next in line.

“Girl, you said Targaryen would be here. He isn´t. So I guess it´s your turn now.” Alys blindfolds you and shoves you out on stage.

You know lying wasn´t fair, yet still you feel betrayal course through your system. Unbeknownst to you they dug their own grave. With gaping mouths, they have to watch as none other than Aegon Targaryen replaces that nerd.

You however, only feel two hands on your shoulders, alerting you to someone standing in front of you.

“Okay, look. We don´t really have to do this. I know you expected Johanna and… And this is my first kiss. I mean I tried to kiss Cregan when I was younger but we kind of butted our heads together and…” You ramble on and on until a pair of lips shuts you up.

Butterflies rise up in your tummy and you move quicker than you ever have to remove the blindfold, to find your crush of so many years in front of you. In a matter of seconds your lips find his again. Pressing against them, your arms slung tightly around his neck. Your mind feels as blank as ever. It´s like in one of those movies, where the camera spins around the kissing couple as fireworks go off in the background. In this moment everything is more than just perfect.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #modern hotd au #modern house of the dragon au #house of the dragon fic #hotd fic #hotd x reader #hotd #house of the dragon

[scoops-aboy86]

I just want to preface this by saying that no, Steve is not being subtle, and yes, Eddie is being intentionally obtuse. He thinks he has to, to protect his heart. And at this point it's just part of his Munson Doctrine to try and pretend that he never cast that love spell at all.

Anyway, is it a date if no one says the word date and neither of them want to assume it's a date and get their heart broken but it feels like a date and they both want it to be a date, but then Eddie has to go meet up with the head cheerleader about some drugs?

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 of the love spell no go au

It’s surprisingly easy for Eddie to relax into just enjoying whatever time he gets with Steve. Yeah, Steve is still a little intense about his exercise regimen, he’s lost that extra cuddliness that looked so good on him, and Eddie is still kind of worried about how tightly wound the guy is after Starcourt, but… things are okay. Good, even. 

Eddie is still a little unsure of the line between friendship and magical influence, but Robin makes a good buffer. She’s a good check for what is and isn’t appropriate for close friends. (...Sometimes. He once walked in on them both shirtless and comparing freckles to try and decide if any of them looked precancerous, and Eddie will not be doing that.)

Every morning Steve gives Eddie and Robin a ride to school. Eddie doesn’t need to carpool, since he has his van, but Steve started by insisting that it wasn’t out of his way and then quickly escalating to parking behind the van before Eddie usually even rolled out of bed. He’s… not a morning person. Actually, Steve is probably the sole reason that Eddie isn’t constantly in detention for first period tardiness this year; just the prospect of seeing that beautiful face first thing is motivation enough to start the day with only minimal grumbling. It also saves gas, and therefore gas money. Some of that goes to Steve, obviously—and here it was Eddie’s turn to have to get creative about secreting the extra cash into Steve’s In-Car Coin Jar. 

No, seriously, that’s what’s written on it in permanent marker. That was the kids’ doing, Eddie has been informed. He believes it, too, because some of said kids have joined Hellfire and those little shits think they’re sooo clever. Any time he’s able to take them down a peg on campaign nights, he’s on the phone with Steve after dinner to tell him all about the freshmen’s demise and subsequent reactions. 

And Dustin specifically, Jesus H Christ. The kid talks about Steve almost as much as Eddie thinks about him, though he plays it snarky and sarcastic and know-it-all in Steve’s actual presence, like an obnoxious younger brother. How had he missed Dustin back during the Scoops Ahoy days? 

(He says that out loud exactly once before realizing his mistake: breaking the cardinal rule of No Referencing Starcourt. For some reason, Steve can’t look at Robin without getting a pinched, guilty look for a whole hour.)

Anyway. Saving gas money means he doesn’t have to deal as much, which in some ways means saving even more gas money. It means more free time for his new friends to force him to study, without interfering with Hellfire or band practice. Robin helps him review the material and make sense of his own chicken scratch notes (or, more often, lets him crib off hers), and Steve is in charge of making flash cards and quizzing both of them. 

Flash cards are serious business, apparently, because whenever Robin yells out an answer before he’s finished reading the question he flicks the card at her face in exaggerated annoyance. Eddie thinks it’s cute, even more so when he gets the same treatment for wondering out loud if they should phrase their answers in the form of questions, like on Jeopardy. 

For every sixty flashcards Eddie answers correctly, Steve lets him talk for an hour about what happened at Hellfire’s most recent dnd night or plans he has for the next session. It’s an amazing motivator, not least because Steve actually asks questions that, while sometimes getting things a little mixed up, really do show he’s listening. And if Steve sometimes accidentally lets the hour run long, or gets wrapped up in a storyline so much that he actually turns up in the drama room on Friday nights like a housewife with her afternoon soaps, Eddie tries not to read too much into that. (The kids love it, despite Mike pretending not to. The rest of the Hellfire guys are skeptical, but gradually relax as they see how avidly Steve follows along, quiet so as not to interrupt and never bullying anybody.)

Between the constant reviewing and flashcards, by spring Eddie is army crawling his way to finally passing all his classes this time. ‘86 is going to be his year. So yeah, things are good. 

And then, suddenly, they aren’t. 

“You want,” Eddie says slowly, “to what?”

“Go to the championship game,” Steve repeats, leaning casually against Eddie’s locker between fifth and sixth periods. He’s not supposed to be here, he graduated, why the hell would anyone come back to this shithole? Besides, he should be at Family Video, finishing his shift. He’s still got the green work vest on, for fuck’s sake! “Come on, man, I come to watch your games sometimes.”

“Campaigns,” Eddie can’t help but interject on autopilot. 

Steve snaps his fingers and points at him, as though Eddie has just made a valuable contribution to his argument. “Exactly. And I don’t play basketball anymore, but this is the first time Hawkins has made it to the championship finals in years. It’s going to be an awesome game.” The smile on Steve’s face is, for once, not tinged by the shadow of what’s been haunting him since last summer, and that alone is going a long way towards melting Eddie’s defenses. “So, come with me?”

And. Eddie still feels like he’s having some sort of stroke, blinking dumbly at Steve’s big hazel puppy dog eyes. Is this what being asked on a date is like?

Is that what this is?

He’s not so dumbstruck that he doesn’t hear himself mumbling some sort of agreement, but… it’s not like he’d ever realistically expected something like this to happen in Hawkins. Or with Steve—because daydreams didn’t count. 

But also, Steve never says the word date. Eddie is listening really hard for it, just in case. Even though no guy in their right mind would ask another guy out in the middle of a crowded high school hallway. As it is, they’re already drawing stares that range from puzzled to incredulous. 

“Wait,” he manages finally, “is this because I told Henderson and Wheeler to find an alternate and they called you?”

Steve snorts. “No, this is because Sinclair called me after the semi-finals last night to tell me the team is moving on to the final game.” And then he smirks. “But yeah, Dustin did call, the little butthead. You should probably let them know that Hellfire is rescheduled after all. And, hey, if you need to move it to a night the drama room isn’t available, you guys can always play at my house.”

“What? I mean—Really?”

“Yeah man, my parents are never home so it’s cool.”

“What’s cool?” Robin’s voice asks, quickly followed by Robin herself crowding in and propping an elbow up on Steve’s shoulder as she joins him against the locker. Which Eddie still needs to get into, if he wants to take his textbook to chem class, but that’s really not what he’s focused on right now. 

Since Eddie is still slack-jawed with surprise, Steve answers. “Hellfire at House Harrington,” he says, with a goofy grin that says he’s pleased with the amount of alliteration he’d managed to achieve, like a fucking dork. Eddie loves him so much—for the offer, for that grin, for just the willingness to be seen with the Freak of Hawkins High on school grounds. 

Unexpectedly, Robin’s eyes light up. “You finally—ow!” Steve, grin going a little fixed, had elbowed her unprotected side where she was leaning on his shoulder. She angles herself out of further striking range, and flashes a matching fixed grin Eddie’s way. “I mean, that’s great! Because, like, those old school rooms are probably loaded with asbestos and, uh, lead paint. Steve’s dining room is a much healthier environment!”

… Okay, so whatever Steve is doing here, he’s talked to Robin about it. Eddie isn’t sure if that makes the date possibility more or less likely, because sometimes he feels like she has a vibe, but he has nothing concrete to stand on. Better to just assume it’s a friendly sharing of interests rather than more and ending up screwing everything up. 

Jeff is in chemistry with him, and at the end of the period Eddie feigns magnanimously changing his mind to grant the club’s three freshmen a reprieve. There is absolutely no way Jeff buys it, but Eddie knows that’s still what will filter down to the underclassmen rather than any speculation on the truth. Which is good, but Eddie doesn’t have time to worry about that… He’s too busy worrying about this sudden commitment to attend a school sporting event, surrounded by his so-called peers and the pearl-clutching parents of Hawkins, hopefully without getting tripped in the bleachers or a tray of hot gooey nachos put on his seat right before he sits down. 

Here’s the thing.

Steve has been braced for something to happen the rest of the summer. He’s been braced all through October and November. All of his training is focused on speed and endurance, because the monsters are fast and the tough bastards are hard to put down. He’s slimmed down, remembering how it had felt to sneak through the Russian base and crouch behind random crates, and built up his arm muscles until he can just about splinter a regular baseball bat on a tree trunk in the woods. 

But now he’s tense because he just asked Eddie out on a date without calling it a date. He wants it to be a date and he’s nervous like it’s a date, but it only counts as a date if both people know, and… Eddie is hard to read. Sometimes Steve thinks Eddie wants to kiss him, and other times he’s punching Steve on the arm and calling him man, which is either mixed signals or Steve is just bad at this. He’d believe either, really. 

It doesn’t start like a date. Steve rushes back to Family Video because he’d used most of his lunch break driving to the school and waiting at Eddie’s locker for the bell between classes to ring. After he finishes his shift and clocks out, he rushes home, rushes through a shower—does not rush through styling his hair for the evening—and meets Eddie in the parking lot outside the gym. Nothing special, just parks beside the van and peeks in to find Eddie smoking a joint with all the windows rolled up. . 

“The last time I went to a school function, I got egged,” Eddie tells him, “so this is for my nerves.”

Steve wants to track down whoever did that and punch them. “That’s not going to happen tonight,” he promises. 

Eddie pretends to swoon, falling back on the floor of the van while also waving Steve inside. “So valiant! Good sir knight, you honor me with your pledge of protection. You have earned your toke, should you wish such a favor.”

“You’re so weird,” Steve mutters affectionately, He leans in far enough to grab Eddie’s hand with the joint and bring both towards him, taking the hit without taking the roll up. If his lips graze Eddie’s fingers and both of their faces are a little redder than usual afterwards, it’s easy to blame on the chill of the spring evening. 

And the game is good! Maybe Steve is a little nervous and over buys at the concession stand, but Eddie just grins and claims the Red Vines. Tammy Thompson puts in an appearance, Eddie whispering “What the fuck, she couldn’t hold a tune if someone put it in a bucket for her” and Steve reviving his excellent Muppet impression joke (which hopefully Robin will think is smooth when he gives her a rundown of how the not-date goes). Steve spots Dustin and Mike in the crowd and points out the back of their heads to Eddie, adding when Lucas is called off the bench, “See? It’s good that you rescheduled, otherwise his best friends would’ve missed this. That’s like… Frodo going to Mordor, but Sam couldn’t come because he has a gardeners conference to go to instead.”

Something in Eddie’s eyes sparks. “You’ve read Lord of the Rings?”

Robin has been reading them aloud to him lately, as practice for ‘speaking endurance’ for her speech and debate elective. It helps Steve get in the zone when he’s doing reps in the basement.

By the time the final buzzer beater comes along, they’re partway through constructing an elaborate Lord of the Rings basketball metaphor where the ball is the ring, traveling is like putting the ring on, the opposing team’s hoop is Mount Doom and the hoop on the Hawkins side is either Minas Tirith or the Shire—they can’t agree on which. But it’s all forgotten for that final shot, Eddie sitting up tall and alert to see what happens right along with Steve. 

Whooping and high fiving when Lucas makes the winning shot. “Score one for the school freaks,” Eddie declares, but only loud enough for Steve to hear in the crowd. 

After waving to Lucas (who does a double take to see Eddie there, flashing his devil horned grin over Steve’s shoulder), they drift back to their vehicles. At first Steve thinks, heart in his throat, that Eddie is dawdling on ending the night because it’s a date for him too, but—

“I kinda have a sale to make,” Eddie says apologetically, looking down at his sneakers as he kicks at a crack in the asphalt. “Back at my place, but I, uh, have to give her a ride.”

Her. Steve immediately feels stupid. Her her her. Of course this wasn’t a date. They’re just friends, and Eddie had postponed Hellfire but obviously had plans for after that are still in place, and Steve has just been living in this little bubble of queerness that consists of just him and Robin—population of two, not three. 

“Yeah, sure man. Have a good night, I’ll see you later,” Steve rushes out. He hops in his car and drives off, running a hand through his hair, the nachos and couple concession stand hotdogs he'd made quick work of during the game to quell his nerves sitting heavy in his stomach. 

Leaving Eddie, who had just been about to ask Steve if he wanted to tag along or something, because if Chrissy wants to take the special K immediately there’s no one Eddie trusts more than Steve to help look out for her and make sure it’s not a bad trip. Or, if she doesn’t, at least hang out and smoke up after dropping her off wherever she wants to go next. 

The abrupt departure stings, but it actually ends up not being the worst thing that happens to Eddie that night.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

#love spell no go au #wg steddie #scoops words #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #rip chrissy cunningham 😔