#i remember in like. sixth grade i think. i had a friend who was much more of a tumblrina than i was. at the time. and i always thought of | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meangirls-imagines · 1 month

Note

Hi. A request here (ignore it it's breaking any of your rules).

I was thinking of Regina George being with masc fem!reader that is actually a softie. I like the idea of a relationship with the dynamic of a mean girlboss and a soft nerdy type, especially if Regina is significantly shorter than the reader.

Imagine the shorter Regina pinning reader against a wall. Or Regina calling reader her 'puppy' because of how she always follows her around the school like a lost puppy or how she lets Regina tell her around without complaints.

Possessive power bottom Regina x Service top Reader (with reader managing to get on Regina's nerves by talking back) 👀

Fire and Ice

Description: For as long as anyone can remember, it had always been Regina and Reader. The complete opposite from each other, it worked perfectly. But, what were the school's power couple like behind closed doors?

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, slight dom/sub dynamics, reader being a little shit

Y/N Y/L/N and Regina George.

Best friends to lovers.

The couple had been deemed North Shore's power couple before they even stepped foot in the hallway. The two had gotten together in sixth grade, proudly open ever since.

As they grew up, Y/N grew into more of a masculine person. She loved sports, hockey specifically, baggy clothes, she cut her hair shorter, got more buff. She was a completely different person now than she was in sixth grade.

Regina, on the other hand, hadn't changed a bit. She was still obsessed with the color pink, designer brands, makeup. Still as feminine as ever.

She always made an exception for Y/N, some days opting to wear the girl's hockey sweatshirts (that were too big on her), a custom made pink jersey with Y/N's last name on it. Everyone knew the two were together.

The question that wouldn't leave anyone's minds:

Who was the top?

The students of North Shore were extremely curious. Most of them assumed it was Regina. But, there was that small percentage of people that thought Y/N was the top.

That small percentage was going strictly off of physical attributes. Y/N was more masculine, she was taller, she didn't take shit from her girlfriend. She had to be the top.

The 90% that believed Regina was the top had right to do so. Y/N followed her girlfriend around school as if she was a lost puppy. It was cute, how much Regina had Y/N wrapped around her finger.

The two had the same class schedule, so they always sat together (more like Regina sat on Y/N's lap), they always went to lunch together, walked the halls together. Regina was always watching Y/N at hockey practice and always at her games.

There was also that time Regina and Y/N got into a mini argument in the hall that one day.

Regina was on a mission.

She had heard from Gretchen who heard from Karen who heard from Taylor who heard from Josh that some girl was throwing herself all over Y/N and her girlfriend wasn't trying to stop it.

She spotted Y/N next to her teammate Mark's locker, the two no doubt talking about the upcoming tournament they were going to play in.

The blonde had turned Y/N by her shoulder and fixed her with a glare. "What the fuck, Y/N?" Y/N looked at her girlfriend confused. "What do you mean, Regina?" The blonde glared harder. "You're gonna tell me you don't recall the slut that was throwing herself over you in your last class?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, how did you even find out about that? Nothing major happened." The blonde got an angry look on her face and pinned Y/n against the locker, glaring at the taller girl.

Y/N just smirked, keeping a mental note for later, letting Regina have her moment. The blonde looked up at her girlfriend. "You better not let anyone touch what's mine. You got that?" They had gained an audience, everyone watching in anticipation for Y/N's next move.

The girl just smirked and allowed Regina to claim her publicly before the blonde stormed off, clearing a path in the hall like the Red Sea.

Regina got a text 15 minutes later from Y/N.

Y/N❤️: I let you have your moment in the hall. But when we get home later, you're not leaving that bed.

Regina's heart raced in anticipation.

"Fuck, Y/N."

"Take it, Regina."

The blonde was on the verge of her third orgasm. When they got home that day, Y/N had decided to show Regina that she was the only girl for her. Her solution? Making Regina feel good.

She had made her cum twice with just her fingers and mouth and was on the verge of making her cum for a third time with her strap. Regina's brain had been turned into mush as all she could focus on was Y/N.

"Fuck, Regina. You take me so well. Can't believe you thought I'd entertain the thought of another girl taking me from you."

Regina couldn't speak. Her senses were overwhelmed with Y/N. The girl was making her feel things that only she could make her feel.

"I'm all yours, Regina. Forever. I don't want anyone else. But, there's one thing I do want. And that's for you to cum on my cock." She reached a hand down in-between Regina's legs and began to rub the bundle of nerves that rested there.

The blonde felt her eyes roll back. Y/N's cock was hitting all of the right places. She felt her climax rapidly approaching as Y/N pounded her.

"Cum for me, Regina. You can do it." Regina felt her entire body tense as she came around Y/N's cock. The girl continued to slowly thrust, allowing Regina to ride through it. The blonde shook from the aftershocks of her climax and the feeling of Y/N's slow thrusts.

Y/N was peppering her face with soft kisses as she came down. "You looked so pretty, Regina. So beautiful. Wanna make you cum again, pretty girl."

Regina gushed around Y/N's cock. With the way her girlfriend was talking to her, she would let her make her cum as much as she wanted, but Regina's body had limits.

Y/N continued the soft kisses. "Will you let me make you cum one more time, sweet angel? Just one more. Then we'll be done. Please." The blonde nodded, pulling Y/N into a more heated kiss. Y/N's thrusts slowly sped up as the blonde moaned into her mouth.

Regina was officially fucked out.

Y/N smirked and sped up her thrusts. "God, Regina, I can't believe you thought I'd go after someone else. Not when you take me so fucking well. Only want you. Only want your pussy." Regina felt heat wash over her body at Y/N's words.

"'M gonna cum. Y/N, please." The blonde's words slurred together as Y/N's cock began to hammer in and out of her. Y/N smirked and began to rub Regina's clit again. "Cum for me, baby. Come on, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock."

Regina saw white as the pleasure bubble burst. Her whole body felt like it was ascending to another dimension as Y/N whispered sweet nothings to her as she came down.

Y/N pulled out and went into Regina's bathroom to grab a wet cloth. She came back and gently cleaned between her legs, whispering praise at Regina's whimpers. She threw the towel to the side, making the blonde drink some water before pulling her into her arms.

"I'm yours, Regina. Forever. No one compares to you, baby girl." Regina sleepily smiled at the girl's words and drifted off.

The next day, when the two walked into the school, everyone's question was answered. Regina walked limped while wearing the pink hockey jersey as Y/N walked next to her, a huge smirk on her face.

That 10% of the school that had guessed Y/N would never let anyone else live it down.

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024

536 notes · View notes

ellecdc · 21 days

Note

ELLE !! OMGGGG i read a fanfic based on the movie flipped and i immediately thought of you and how you would eat this trope up or more specifically a childhood best friends to lovers !!

like one day either one or all of the marauders are spending the day with reader then all of a sudden the boys’ hearts start beating a little faster at reader’s laughter or they’re mesmerized by their little subtle quirks and now they’re like “oh fuck… i think i LOVE them love them”

this is not necessarily a request but if you decide to write something like this then YIPPIEEE FLUFF but if not then its just a cute little scenario to think about !!

this was such a sweet idea 🥹 thank you so much for your request 🫶

Sirius Black x gn!reader who he's - oh shit - in love with

Life hadn’t been particularly easy for Sirius.

He was born into a family not out of love but out of obligation.

In fact, he hadn’t ever really known love outside of whatever affection he held for his baby brother until he met his friends.

He’d been beaten, starved, ignored, and tortured into compliance all before the age of 11; and it only continued tenfold upon his return from school after having been sorted into the wrong house.

In fact, a lot about Sirius was wrong.

He had the wrong opinions, the wrong hair, the wrong style, the wrong language, the wrong grades, the wrong loyalty.

Sirius was wrong.

At least that’s what his family would have said.

However, Sirius eventually learned that it wasn’t him who had been wrong all this time; it was them.

And whilst removing them from him was very difficult - seeing as they were the ones who bred and raised him - he felt he was doing a pretty decent job of it.

Unfortunately, that meant leaving his baby brother Regulus, and you, behind.

From as far back as Sirius could remember, everything was always chosen for him; his friends, his interests, his hobbies, the volume of his voice, the clothes he wore, the way he presented himself etcetera, etcetera.

And though that was technically still true of his dedication to his brother and his companionship with you; the two of you were the only good things to have ever come from his life as a Black.

His friendship with you was a cherished one.

Perhaps one of the only people who truly got it; who knew what Sirius went through.

You were the silver lining at every grey and dreary Pureblood Gala and Sacred 28 dinner party.

You were his biggest advocate and protector when it came to his older cousins and the other older Purebloods.

And you were the only reason Sirius could bring himself to flee that horrid night in the summer before sixth year; he could only leave knowing that Regulus would at least still have you.

But it hurt.

It hurt knowing he had left you and Regulus to fend for yourselves.

He felt like a coward; like he betrayed the two people who he cared for most.

And he was still so scared; even now, albeit for different reasons.

He was scared because he was certain that when he returned to Hogwarts that September, you and Regulus would hate him.

But apparently, his fears were wrong too.

Because two weeks before the end of summer; two weeks before you would all be piling onto the Hogwarts Express to return to Scotland, you and Regulus showed up to Potter Manor wearing matching timid grins, yet seemingly no worse for wear.

Somehow, you had gotten yourself and Reggie out of the terror that was your familial homes, and were staying with friends up in Ottery St.Catchpole.

Sirius never really imagined getting to have his cake at all, let alone getting to have his cake and eating it too.

Yet, here he sat on a warm summer evening at Potter Manor with James, Remus, Peter, Reggie, and you around a crackling bonfire among the sounds of peeping frogs and chirping crickets as you told some grandiose story about you and Regulus trekking through a vast field where Regulus stumbled in a hidden hole in the ground and cursed for five minutes straight in both English and French before the two of you laughed so hard that you cried.

Your face was flushed and you were slightly breathless as you narrated your tale; arms flying wildly as you drew a rather descriptive picture of both your surroundings and your actions. Every so often you would reach over to shake Regulus’ shoulder as he hid his face behind his hands, laughing along with you and daring to interrupt if he felt you were overexaggerating some details or not painting him in a flattering enough light.

What was likely a rather stressful and arduous journey across the Southern half of the country seemed to be nothing but a grand adventure as you retold your experience.

Sirius liked that about you; everything was an adventure with you. You never let Regulus or Sirius feel too poorly for themselves for too long, telling them it was going to be great for their character development.

“I think I’m rather well developed already, sweetheart.” He’d grumbled at you once. You laughed like he had something truly funny.

And this was no different. From looking at Regulus, Sirius would never guess he’d just absconded from his volatile, abusive, and downright scary family; Regulus rather looked like he was retelling the happenings of a juvenile prank-filled slumber party (which Sirius would know a thing or two about).

And he looked good. Not like Sirius looked when he first arrived at the Manor; bloodied, bruised, starved, and soaked to the bone. Regulus was healthy, vibrant, and bright. Hopeful.

That’s the effect you had on people; you filled them with hope. Hope that it would be okay, hope that it would be better, hope that one day you might actually deserve the things you so desperately craved.

You had certainly done that for Sirius.

And looking at how good Regulus appeared, he couldn’t deny the same of you.

You were bright, animated, overflowing with a crackling energy and excitement that might even rival James’.

Sirius realised then that you were everything Sirius ever hoped to be.

Bold, assured, daring, caring, vivacious, kind, and so full of love.

And it seemed to him that the way the firelight was currently reflecting off of your face, as if the fire was somehow brighter from just simply being within your proximity, that you were far more beautiful than Sirius remembered you.

He hadn’t realised he’d been remembering you.

He had missed you; quite terribly, at that.

He missed your reassuring words, he missed your soft gazes, he missed your gentle hugs, and he missed the way that just knowing you were within his vicinity eased a ball of tension he hadn’t even realised resided deep within him.

And he missed getting to see you; like this most of all.

Lovely, happy, carefree, and beautiful.

He wondered how he’d gone so long without it.

Was a little over a month considered long? He supposed it didn’t much matter, seeing as it certainly felt that way.

Too long.

Sirius never wanted to go that long without you again. You were too important to him, too precious, too sacred, too-

Oh.

Sirius Black was bloody in love. With you.

Sirius Black was in love with you.

What likely should have sent Sirius spiralling (and certainly would have a little over a month ago) did nothing but cause him to smile softly as you let out a rather boisterous laugh that sounded like a symphony to Sirius’ ears.

And so, it should be commemorated for future generations to come:

Here sat Sirius Black… having his cake and eating it too.

288 notes · View notes

sluttywoozi · 8 months

Text

Meet The Parents | kmg x f!reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.2k

Summary: Mingyu is meeting your parents today, and it absolutely must go well. So why are you teasing him like this?

For May 💖 happy early birthday i love and adore you

Warnings: meeting the parents, wine and food mention, brief talk of the future and kids, suggestive thoughts, mingyu is horny and in love, fingering, marking, car sex, semi public sex, creampie

AN: not everyone has two parents that are still together (i know i don’t) but for the purpose of this story, reader does

Mingyu’s left hand tightens on the steering wheel, the fingers of his right tensing on your thigh, as he navigates the streets of the neighborhood you grew up in. You’ve been pointing things out to him - the tree you broke your ankle climbing in the sixth grade, the house your childhood best friend lived in, the cul de sac that had the best halloween candy - and he wishes he was less nervous so he could fully enjoy all these little memories with you.

But how could he not be nervous? He’s had two hours to think about this and now he’s minutes away from meeting the people who made you, and he loves you, and he has to make a good first impression! Usually, parents love him because of his winning smile and polite manners, but yours may feel differently. It doesn’t help that you’re wearing that skirt, the one that sits all pretty on your luscious thighs, the one that makes you look like a princess, the one that he fucked you in just last week.

Mingyu doesn’t want his mind to go there, but as soon as the thought pops into his head, he’s picturing the way he bent you over the kitchen table and flipped the skirt up only to find you bare, and how he dropped to his knees and made you cum on his tongue and fingers before finally giving you his cock. He remembers how you felt wrapped around him, how you begged and pleaded for him to cum inside of you, how you cried when fucked his seed back in with his fingers after it started to drip out of your perfect little pussy.

Fuck, he’s getting hard, and according to you, your house is only three streets away. He wills his mind to return to the safe zone, the zone that doesn’t make him want to pull over and fuck you in the backseat in broad daylight, but the warmth and softness of your thigh under his hand just reminds him how warm and soft you are all over. There’s not much time left, and the only thing he can think to do is remove his hand from your thigh and attempt to think about terrible, horrible, awful things.

Your hair in the shower drain, that one episode of My Strange Addiction, the time he lost so bad in Overwatch that he cried, and he’s back.

Just in time too, as he takes a right and rolls to a slow stop in front of your parent’s house. He pulls in a deep breath, shifts to park, and turns the car off before looking at you. You’re already staring with a sweet smile on your face and he can feel his cheeks heat, feel his heart start to race, feel his shoulders bunch up by his ears.

Even after six months together, having your full attention on him makes him feel bashful for some reason. Maybe it’s because you’re his dream girl, maybe it’s because he knows just how lucky he is to be with you, maybe it’s because he feels like you can see straight into his big, fat, full-of-love-for-you heart. Maybe it’s all three, but he can’t complain when the very fact that he gets shy around you is evidence he gets to be around you.

He feels your hand squeeze his arm, shakes himself out of the stupor he falls into when he looks at you for too long, and nods when you ask him if he’s ready to get out of the car. He’s not, but he doesn’t think he ever will be so now’s as good a time as any.

He also doesn’t want to keep your parents waiting, knowing that punctuality is a hallmark of a good, respectable boyfriend, as is running around his sedan at a near comical speed so he can open your door before you do. Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him from your seat in his car and he tries to pretend the hand he offers you isn’t shaking, but assumes he’s not successful as your expression softens into something fond.

“They’ll love you, Mingyu,” you promise him, giving his hand a squeeze to emphasize your point as you climb out and stand. Your free hand rises to fix his hair, and suddenly that’s something else he’s nervous about. He got his hair cut just for this, just to meet your parents, and he feels a bit exposed without the long waves covering his ears and neck. He does like how you fuss over him though, and it’s nice to be able to fuck your brains out without his hair getting in his eyes and obscuring his view of you, so there are two pros to the one con.

“Alright, you look so handsome, and you’re such a good boyfriend, and you’ll impress the shit out of them!” You quietly hype him up before asking, “Wanna go inside?”

He takes in a trembling breath, nods, and looks to your front door only to find it open, with your parents standing just outside the threshold. His ears flame at the knowledge that they’d witnessed this little moment between him and their daughter, but at least he didn’t try to cop one last feel in front of them too.

They wave, and he smiles and waves back, and then you and him are walking up the driveway hand in hand. There’s no time to back out now, not that he wants to, and all he can do is hope and pray and wish and manifest that this goes well, because it has to.

Dinner goes smoothly enough, Mingyu thinks.

Your parents worked together to make all the food, and Mingyu even recognizes some of the dishes as things you’ve made for him before. He figured you learned how to cook while you were growing up because you’re such a natural in the kitchen, and this is confirmation. It’s also a glimpse into the future he wants to have with you, one where you make things together and share them with people you love.

Your dad doesn’t grill him like he expects, instead drawing him into a conversation about the merits of college basketball, which gives him an opportunity to share the experience of being on his university’s team. It lights your dad up, the fact that Mingyu played in college, and he spends half of dinner asking about Mingyu’s favorite teams.

Your mom asks a lot of questions about his family: how his mom is, what his parents do for work, if he has any siblings, if he wants kids and if he does, how many. The last question throws him for a bit of a loop, but he recovers soon enough, answering, “I do, but how many isn’t just my decision.”

That seems to be the correct response, her face relaxing into a soft smile before she looks at you and winks. He doesn’t know what the wink means but assumes it’s something good, and the tight feeling in his chest starts to abate.

Once they’ve inquired about everything they want to know, the conversation tilts to you. Your parents haven’t seen you in a couple months - the two hour drive is hard to incorporate into your schedule - and though you talk regularly, there’s still catching up to do. You tell them how it’s going at your new job, how your coworkers are kind but nosy, and how your boss is demanding and strict. They hear about the dog you fell in love with while you were volunteering at the shelter, and about how your circle of friends is doing, and about how Rachel just keeps getting back together with Sean no matter how much you tell her he won’t change.

Mingyu listens attentively, practically hanging on your every word as if he hasn’t heard all of this before, and it’s only when you stand to get another bottle of wine that he remembers what you’re wearing.

The sight of your thighs sends him spiraling, your skirt brushing over them like he wishes his hands could, and he clenches the silverware in his fists, praying that his sudden want isn’t obvious. He averts his eyes when you return, stares down at his nearly empty plate as if it holds all the secrets to the universe, and looks up only when you place a hand on his shoulder and ask if he wants another glass.

He doesn’t trust his voice, doesn’t think his answer won’t come out hoarse with the way his throat has tightened with lust, so he just shakes his head. More wine will only make it worse, the taste of the red on his tongue already reminding him of the last time you got wine drunk together. You made it through two bottles before he pulled you into his lap, pushed his thigh between your legs, and helped you grind back and forth until you soaked his sweats.

Groaning in his mind, he tugs at the legs of his jeans, trying to give himself more room as blood rushes down into his cock. It doesn’t help that you lean over the table to pour wine into your parents’ glasses, giving him a peek at the panties you’ve got on today. Just by the little bit of color and fabric he sees, he knows they’re his favorite pair, and suddenly he’s all too aware that you did this on purpose.

Wore his favorite skirt and his favorite panties and bent over just a bit more than you needed to, just so he could see. You’re so evil but so fucking hot, and, swallowing the smirk, Mingyu decides to come up with a little plan of his own.

When you sit back down, he splays a big hand over your thigh, his touch low enough to seem innocent but high enough to tease you. Through the rest of the meal, he dotes on you. Runs his thumb along your soft skin, praises your brilliant mind and work ethic, presses a kiss to your cheek when your parents aren’t looking. He knows you love his attention, love when he shows how obsessed he is with you, but he also knows you know his increased affections usually lead to one of two things.

Him dragging you to bed to cuddle you until you fall asleep, or him dragging you to bed and fucking you into the mattress.

Neither of those things are possible here, but he’s hoping he can rile you up enough that you get a taste of your own medicine.

“Honey, why don’t you give Mingyu a tour while your father and I clear the table?” Your mom suggests, making you jump. You must have been zoning out, and he can only hope you were thinking about what he’s been thinking about. If not, he’ll just have to accept that he’s the horny one in this relationship. It’s a cross he’s willing to bear, especially if it means you always know how much he wants you.

Your thigh flexes under his palm and he gives you a squeeze, his fingers digging in a bit too much to pass as a show of affection rather than a sign of want.

“Yeah, mom, that sounds good.”

You stand quickly, your chair scratching on the hardwood, and his hand falls to his own lap as he looks up at you. Your pupils are dilated and you look slightly frazzled, but you compose yourself quickly and hold your hand out, waiting for him to take it before pulling him up from his chair and tugging him from the dining room. He follows at a sedate pace, his long legs allowing him to easily keep up with you as you lead him to the stairs.

He loses the upper hand here, his eyes instantly drawn to the way your ass moves under your skirt with each step climbed. Stairs have always been a treacherous place for him due to his clumsiness, but he never knew he’d be in danger like this. By the time you make it to the top, he’s half hard and nearly panting, and it takes everything in him not to push you up against the wall and drop to his knees.

The look you give him when you turn around tells him you know, and the smirk that stretches your lips tells him he’s in for even more trouble. You back up to a door, one covered in drawings and stickers, and place your hand on the knob, slowly turning it and backing into the room.

“This was my bedroom, can you tell?” You ask innocently, your eyes slowly traversing the posters and stuffed animals you’d left behind. He takes one stilted step, then another, crossing the threshold and feeling like he’s entering the lion’s den, except this den has pink walls and a princess bed and this lion has his heart.

You sit on the bed, the mattress bouncing with your weight, and smooth your skirt out over your plush thighs. He can hear your parents puttering about in the kitchen, hear the buzz of their easy conversation, hear the warning bells in his mind telling him not to come any closer to you. But he’s never been good at listening to those warnings, so he walks further into the room, his eyes stuck on you rather than the decor he should be taking in.

You pat the spot next to you, your face open and patient as you wait for him to join you. It feels like a mistake, sinking down onto the covers beside you, but it’s too late to change his mind now. He’ll just have to hope you don’t try anything because his restraint is already razor thin and stretched far past capacity.

“Are you thinking about it yet?” You whisper, your dulcet voice sounding like a devil on his shoulder.

“Thinking about what?” He responds, though he dreads knowing the answer.

“Fucking me in this bed.”

You sound nonchalant, unbothered, but he can see the desire in your eyes, knows you’re just as hot for him as he is for you. He also knows you’re teasing yourself as well as him, because you’re both fully aware there’s no way he’s fucking you in your parents’ house.

Not while they’re home, at least.

“Baby, please,” he begs in a hushed voice. “I’m trying to make a good impression.”

“You already have, Gyu. They love you, just like I said they would,” you drop the act just long enough to reassure him, sensing the anxiety in his words and kindly attempting to set him at ease. It doesn’t really work, his nerves are too fried and his body's too wired, both from meeting your parents and from having to endure the war you’ve decided to wage on him.

He’s thankful you’ve seemingly decided to back off, his heart slowly returning to a normal pace and his lungs able to fill with air again. Until you open your mouth and say something else.

“How about you fuck me on the way home?”

Shit. Now he’s thinking about you, spread out over the hood of his car, crying as he thrusts into you over and over and over. You, halfway in the backseat as he takes you from behind. You, riding him in the driver’s seat until he fills you up. You, you, you. Always you.

He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the dirty thoughts that keep invading his mind, but how is he supposed to do that when you’re staring at him like you are and saying the things you’re saying?

Even worse is the fact that he knows that’s exactly what he’ll do, fuck you on the way home. Whether it’s in the car or in the nicest motel he can find for you, he’s going to be balls deep inside of you just like you want.

You must sense his resolve crumbling because you shift closer, set a hand on his thigh, and lean in, pressing your lips to the hinge of his jaw and lightly sucking. He squeezes his eyes closed, clenches his teeth, and steels himself to do something he’s never done before - deny you.

“If you don’t stop, I’m not fucking you today at all.”

He’s bluffing but he sounds serious enough for you to believe him, your mouth detaching from his neck on a gasp as you process his words. He stares straight ahead, knowing that if you look into his eyes you’ll see the lie in them, see that there’s no way he could stand to go without you, especially after you’ve been teasing him like this.

“So you will if I do stop?” You question in a hushed voice, almost sounding like you’re bargaining.

“That’s the deal,” he confirms with a nod, feeling your eyes on him and hoping you aren’t seeing right through him like you usually can.

“Alright, Gyu, I’ll be good.”

He pushes out a sigh, knowing you chose those words on purpose. They’re the ones you say when he’s feeling more dominant than desperate, when he wants to tell you what to do and watch you do it, when giving isn’t enough and he needs to take instead. But he also knows that you always mean it, always want to be good for him if that’s what he wants from you, even if you did take this as one last opportunity to tease him.

You’re true to your word, your touches innocent and your devil horns put away as he chats with you and your parents over tea and a tray of cheese and fruit. You’ll need to get on the road soon if you want to make it home before dark, and Mingyu is already about to vibrate out of his skin at the thought of finally getting his hands on you.

He can tell you’re counting down the minutes in your head too, by the way you can’t seem to keep your eyes off him or stop your knee from bouncing or fully concentrate on the conversation. Mingyu fills in the gaps you leave, does his best to act as if he’s not currently picturing you naked, and laughs probably a bit too much every time your dad makes a joke.

He’s nervous again, mainly because his thoughts are far from pure and your parents are far too close, but also because he’s not sure you won’t jump him the minute you settle into the car. He’d like to at least get a few miles away before devouring you, and he doesn’t know if you’ll give him the opportunity to do so.

Obviously, Mingyu’s not complaining. It gives him a sense of pride that he can affect you this way, make you want him enough to change your plans when you were clearly hellbent on getting him to fuck you in your twin bed. In almost any other house with almost any other people, he would’ve been more than down, but he just wasn’t willing to risk ruining his relationship with your parents, which would have definitely happened if they caught him banging their daughter while she was supposed to be giving him a tour.

That’s not something he could come back from, and considering the fact that he wants to marry you someday, he thinks he made the right choice. That doesn’t make it any easier though, knowing you want him and not being able to do anything about it.

“We should probably get going, right, Mingyu?” You ask during a natural lull in the conversation.

“Yeah, we’ve got a couple hours ahead of us but I wish we could stay,” he agrees, trying to appear reluctant to be leaving instead of ecstatic. He thinks he sells it, your mom letting out a pleased ‘aw’ and your dad leaning over to clap him on the shoulder and say, “Maybe next time y’all can sleep over.”

“We would love that, dad,” you assure him with a smile before standing and taking Mingyu’s hand to pull him up with you. Your parents trail behind as he follows you to the front door, his eyes resolutely caught on the back of your head rather than your thighs in that damned skirt.

“Let us know when you get home, okay, sweetie?” Your mom requests gently, folding her arms around you and letting her eyes fall shut as she hugs you tightly.

“We love you,” your dad reminds you, wrapping you up in a hug of his own before letting go and turning to Mingyu. He offers a hand and Mingyu beams, shaking it firmly and nodding when he tells him to drive safely. Mingyu always drives safely, especially when you’re in the passenger seat, but he knows it was more of a command than a request anyway.

You both wave when you get to the car, Mingyu opening your door for you and waiting for you to climb in before shutting it gently. He jogs over to the driver’s side and slides in, turning the car on and holding the wheel tighter than is strictly necessary.

Now that you’re alone and in an enclosed space, the tension is stifling. You fiddle with the air controls and Mingyu sets up the playlist he made for you, pulling out of the driveway just as the first song starts to play.

It’s one he’s fucked you to before, of course, and all it does is remind him of just how badly he wants you, how badly he needs you. He can feel the arousal stirring in his stomach, feel it clouding his mind and his judgment, and he knows there’s no way he’ll make it two hours without feeling you wrapped around him.

So he takes a right instead of a left, turns into the first parking lot he sees, and parks in the darkest corner he can find.

“Here?” You ask, excitement clear in your voice as he unbuckles his seatbelt and shuts the car off.

“Here,” he affirms, getting out of the car with his jaw clenched and his jeans tight. You meet him in the backseat, your hands disappearing beneath your skirt to start working your panties down. He stops you before you get too far, pulls you into his lap and breathes, “Wanna fuck you in them,” as he pushes the gusset to the side and drags his fingers through your folds.

You’re soaking and fever hot, and Mingyu lets out a rough groan as he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth. You taste amazing, as always, and when you press your lips to his in a searing kiss, he knows you can taste yourself. It just makes everything hotter, makes his dick twitch in his jeans and his heart race in his chest, makes him moan into your mouth and bring his fingers back to your cunt so he can get you even wetter, even messier.

He sinks in one, then another, your walls forming to them immediately and sucking them back in when he pulls them out. Normally, he’d make you cum two or three times before he even gives you his dick, but he’s desperate and it seems you are too.

“Just get in me, Mingyu,” you cry into his mouth, your arms wrapped around his neck as your hips jerk back and forth with the movements of his fingers.

“One more, baby,” he sighs against your lips, working a third digit inside of you and curling, searching, until he hits the spot that makes you gush. Predictably, you tighten and get even wetter around his fingers as he targets your g-spot with every thrust, and he figures he might as well go for an orgasm while he’s at it.

His lips leave yours so he can kiss down your neck, nipping his way to the sensitive skin of your collarbone and sucking a mark there while he stretches you out for his cock. You whine when he spreads his fingers, whimper when he digs his teeth into your flesh, moan when he rubs his fingertips into the patch of nerves inside you. All of your sounds are heavenly, and they also have him so hard, he feels like he could cry.

He prays you’re getting close, is fairly certain you are by the clenching of your cunt and the grinding of your hips, but just to be sure, he shifts his thumb to your clit and presses quick circles into it, the little bud throbbing as you climb higher and higher.

“Cum, baby, please,” Mingyu whispers into your throat, knowing you can feel his lips brushing against your skin and hoping you can feel the vibrations of his voice too.

Your pussy quivers around his fingers, wetness seeping out of your undulating walls as you cum with a sharp keen. He works you through it, wishes he could turn a light on so he could see your face better but knows that you have to be quick and discrete if you don’t want to get caught.

His cock twitches, precum leaking into his boxers, and as soon as your cunt stops squeezing his fingers, he slides them out of you and sucks them into his mouth to clean them off (and to taste you again) before undoing his jeans and belt and pulling his cock out. You whine when you feel him against you, lifting your hips just enough to get the head notched at your entrance and starting to sink down.

His hands fly to your hips, his fingers clenching in the delicate material of your skirt as your pussy swallows him. You just keep sucking him in deeper and deeper until there’s nowhere left to go, until your hips are flush with his and he’s bottomed out inside of you, until he has to let his head drop to your shoulder at the feeling of your hot, wet cunt wrapped around him.

In such a tight space it’s hard for you to get enough room to rise up and down on his cock, so he lifts your hips and starts bucking up, fucking into you with quick, rough thrusts. You’re so wet, he can hear it, the slick sounds of his dick filling you music to his ears.

You’re perfect, so beautiful and soft and sweet and just for him, only for him, and fuck, he’s already getting close. He wanted to last longer, but after hours of trying to balance being respectful and being absolutely mad for you, he’s exhausted and even more susceptible to the molten velvet of your pussy.

Mingyu doesn’t know how much longer he can hold it off, especially when you start moaning his name and making little punched out noises every time he hits the end of you, so he slides one hand between your bodies and gets his fingers on your clit. You get tighter as soon as he touches you, and you’re so slippery, his fingers glide as he rubs tiny circles onto the swollen bundle of nerves.

Now that he’s not holding you up, it’s less fucking and more grinding, but that means he gets to stay inside of you and feel every clench, every squeeze, every ripple of your walls around him. You make him feel so good, every single time, and already he can feel his balls drawing up and his dick getting harder as he starts nearing the edge.

“Are you close, baby? Please be close,” he gasps brokenly, his head tilting back against the seat so he can gaze at you, the hand on your hip rucking your skirt up so he can watch his dick disappear inside of you. The sight of you in his favorite skirt with his favorite panties wrenched to the side as his cock stretches your pussy is one he’ll never forget, even if he can barely make you out in the darkness of the car.

You nod, your breath hitching and your back arching as his cock twitches and jerks inside you. He doesn’t think he can hold it off any longer, the pleasure so sharp it almost hurts, and he can’t hold in his sounds either, moans and whimpers leaving his lips as the wave starts to overtake him.

His heart is pounding, his vision whited out and his hearing all but gone, and it’s all he can do to keep breathing, keep up the circles on your clit, keep himself from crying actual tears when you whine his name and cum around him. He breaks as soon as you do, your walls fluttering wildly around his dick as ropes of cum paint the inside of your cunt.

His hips buck in little movements, fucking his cum in even deeper, and he doesn’t let up with his fingers, pushing you through your orgasm and right up to another. His cock is so sensitive but he wants to feel you cum again, speeding up the circles on your clit until you’re whimpering and shaking on top of him.

You collapse against him, your face in his chest and your arms falling from his neck as you go boneless. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight and rubbing your back, murmuring sweet little nothings into your ear as you come down. He can feel his cum starting to seep out of you as his dick softens. It’s probably staining his jeans but he doesn’t care, can only care about you and how you’re feeling.

“Alright, baby?” He whispers, waiting for you to nod before pulling out and starting to disentangle himself from you. He wants to stay, wants to hold you for hours, but he’s not keen on getting arrested and there's still a long drive ahead. You’re sluggish, your movements slow and clumsy as you climb off of him, wincing at the slight soreness.

He began keeping tissues in his center console after the last time you did this, so he at least has something to clean you up with, his hand gentle as he wipes the cum away before tucking a clean tissue into your panties so any extra will be caught. He cleans his dick off and puts it away, redoing his jeans and checking that the coast is clear.

He opens the door as quietly as he can, running around to your side and helping you out, smiling proudly when he catches the way your legs shake before making sure you’re all buckled in and gently closing the door. Jogging back to the driver’s side, he looks around one more time and finds no squad cars or flashing lights, letting out a sigh of relief when he realizes you’ve gotten away with it.

He hopes you can sleep on the way home, turns on your seat warmer and lays his hand on your thigh, waiting for you to cover it with yours before turning to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and whispering, “I love you.”

You mumble it back, your eyes already closed, and he grins, starting the car and backing out of the secluded parking spot. Now that he’s met your parents and (hopefully) won them over, he’s got two hours to think about how he’s going to ask for their blessing to marry you.

Should be easy, right?

AN: please i am BEGGING on my KNEES for your thoughts and feelings!!! thank you to @petrichor-mingi for beta reading 💖

My Masterlist

Taglist: @lenireads @confusedbansheee @junhui-recs @burningupp-replies @heeseung-lover686 @favehoshiposts @1004luvangel @bangchanbabygirlx @baldi-2 @monamonay @just-here-to-read-01 @gaebestie @heavenly-mobo @smalliechelle @shuabby1994 @snowgirlfallen @noraehey @swinterr @fr0g-filez @dejavernon @onewoowonderboy @awkwardnesshabitat @kpoppingmypussy @coupsgyus @jinsonaz @enhacolor @highkey-fangirling @jaycheoluwu @tinkerbell460 @jihoonliker @aurumness @maybeifyoutrieddd @chwecardcaptor @luvdokja @Itsteiiteii @cokeforcals @callmenev @doitlikehoshi @hwhjsthetic @multi-kpop-fanfics @ahgastayzen @kodzukein @candidupped @misssugarlips @luvthatleader-nim @wonusworldd @jeanjacketjesus @itbtoblikethatsometimes @kyeomcloud @itzz-me-duh

888 notes · View notes

makncheese12 · 1 year

Text

Top Shelf pt. 2

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Masterlist

Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.

Warning: my writing, I don’t know how to fully play chess so it’s a bit weird haha, very awkward, a little rushed if you come back tomorrow sometime after twelve it should be better

Word count - 3.1k

Credits: @novmoth (my friend from school who feeds into my delusions and gives me more ideas for this story🫶🏻)

“So,” Lyle starts as you move a piece across the chess board and look up to him then back down at the half played board. “You mean to tell me you ran into Jenna Ortega—“ he says through gritted teeth and puts his hands together and leans his forehead against them.

“—and you didn’t know who she was? She’s known world-wide after her recent show on Netflix!”

Why was he so surprised? He knew your parents situation and how it was critical that your mothers family didn’t find her.

Why would you want to be on social media so much anyway? All the drama involving celebrities and people switching up on them after finding some stuff they don’t like.

Hell people could even find information to black mail or threaten you with, that would just be your luck.

It was better to not get caught up in all of that. All you had was Instagram that had nothing to do with the last name and TikTok with no post that you barely used.

“You know I don’t watch a lot of TV.” You mumble watching him move the white piece taking your black on the board between the two of you. “Dude,” Mj starts looking up from pride and prejudice.

“We all used to watch her on stuck in the middle in sixth grade at Rosa’s place before Marco moved.” She says, clearly uninterested in the conversation yet wanting to be right.

You knit your eye brows together making Lyle stare at you like you were some kind of idiot. “She played Harley, middle child AKA stuck in the middle.” You continue to stare dumb founder.

The large man only groans and Mj scoffs at your lack of knowledge. Dru is then seen, holding a pile of games he wanted to try out.

“The chick with the hot sister who used her for an invention with her boyfriend.” He hums, placing the games next to the computer nearby.

Realization hits you like a brick and you nod, now knowing who they were talking about and the seeing the resemblance.

She both sounded and looked older now, you noted before moving a chess piece.

“If that’s what it takes for you to remember things then we’re all doomed.” Mj states as she pulls her legs up to her chest.

“Okay, when did she come exactly?” Lyle stares at the board, eyes clearly focused but keeping his attention on the conversation.

You think back to the interaction as he makes his move. “A few hours ago, right after lunch when people usually come in.”

“Wonder how she got here without getting noticed.” Mj wonders out loud. This girl must have been a big deal if she can’t get away without being noticed.

“Check,” Lyle hums and your eyes snap back to the board to see him move his piece. You narrow your eyes at the board for a moment and huff out.

You two had decided to create your own set of rules after playing together for so long it had become a bit boring. With his idea, you both made the game a little more interesting and complicated.

“She probably has little disguises, you know to specifically get away from the paps.” Dru mumbles, face inches away from the screen.

You grimace at the sight, now seeing why he needed glasses yet he was still doing it with them on.

“He has a point.” Lyle replies watching you make your move before his smile grows. “Checkmate.” He flaunts making you groan as he snatches your king.

“Your slacking, Y/N, do better.” He shakes his head before putting all the pieces back in place.

His teasing only making you groan again, louder this time making him chuckle.

“You’re making me feel like a sin getting scolding by his father after a bad game.” You mumble before sitting up again and making the first move.

“Good,” he laughs watching you make the same move as before. “You need it.” He says in response.

“Fuck the game, what are you going to do about Jenna Ortega?” Mj speaks up closing her book and slamming it on the table.

Usually, you’d scold her for doing so but it was after hours and no one was inside to bother.

Lyle huffs. “Never say that again, this game is very important.” Mj rolls her eyes in response, everything was important to him.

“What would you have me do? Send her a quick text and ask her to come back?” You laugh at the thought.

It would have to be a miracle to get any celebrities number, it would have to be a god send to get her phone number.

“You’re such a pessimist.” Lyle snorts and you send him a glare. “I would be if a cute celebrity showed up and I never saw her again.” Dru calls out making you huff.

“I will see her again, actually. I think, at least.” Mj perks up at this. “Oh? How so?” She asks, leaning forward on the table.

You send her a glare and lean away. Why was she suddenly acting like a fourth grade friend who finds out about your crush.

“She borrowed the book, so she kind of has to come back.” You grumble scooting your seat farther away from her.

You didn’t really think you’d actually be excited for someone to return for a book. Sure, there were cute people that came in and out of the library all the time. But none had really had any real affect on you like she did.

Though the interaction was short and quick, it was probably one of the most interesting ones you had with a customer.

You’d do anything to see those freckles in person again.

The clicking sound of a phone brings you out of your thoughts as you glance up to Lyle whose holding up his phone.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he begins angry typing. “You just looked so aesthetic with the chess board, I gotta post it to Insta.”

You roll your eyes before they move to Mj who paces back and fourth.

“Okay, so that would probably be your only chance at actually talking to her.” She says as if she were talking to herself.

“She’s so delusional

“That is if you don’t fuck it up,” she mutters that last part with a as she continues pacing making you point to your face that is clearly unamused.

“But how will you do that? You’re a horrible flirt, that much is true and your humor is as dead as Lyle’s hair.”

“Hey!” He quickly goes to cover his purple hair with his large arms. “There’s no hiding that atrocities.” Mj rolls her eyes, once again for the hundredth time tonight.

“I say you just go for it.” Dru says tapping his computer key quickly and you notice the game to be ‘cookie clicker’, an online game that is not any of the games in his pile.

“Be yourself and you’ll be fine, if she doesn’t like that oh well.” He says inching closer to the screen, glasses almost touching it.

“Wow DD,” Lyle says, looking up from his screen that was suddenly getting lots of notifications. “I never thought you could be so poetic.” He teases and Dru sends him a side eye glare.

“That wasn’t even poetic, just common sense.” He replies, eyes traveling back to his screen.

Lyle sticks his tongue out at the older man who doesn’t even notice.

“I want sushi,” You say standing up watching the abandoned chess pieces fall from their place. “Let’s go get some.”

“Right behind you,” Mj says eagerly as she grabs her book and jacket, Lyle not too far behind her.

“Wait, give me a second!” Dru calls but you just laugh and continue your way to the door.

“Wait! I want sushi too! Stop!” He calls out louder as Lyle holds the door open. “Just abandon mission dude! Sushi is way better.” Lyle says as you begin walking down the street, Dru coming out not long after making sure to lock the door.

————

You carefully pull books out of the return section as the beat of your music rings through your ears making you bop your head lightly.

You glance over to Lyle who sat in the desk chair, playing Call Of Duty mobile on his phone. You wouldn’t usually be allowed to do that but it was a particularly slow day.

It had been two weeks since Jenna had last came to the library and to say you were disappointed was an understatement.

You knew it could be months before she would have to return the book and you would have to charge her for it if she really didn’t and that is what you didn’t want to do.

Mj made sure you didn’t forget either, sending you cheesy pick-up lines and ‘how to flirt’ website which only aggravated you and hurt your ego.

You did look at a few though and had to admit some were actually good while others made you skin crawl.

You don’t notice the sound of the bell ringing or the way Lyle quirks up slightly glancing toward you

Jenna looks up to him as her body guards walk to a side table in front of the window allowing her a little freedom to walk after seeing there weren’t many people.

He makes his lips into kissy form and a small ‘ooh’ leaves before turning to you, back turned as you sort through the books.

He looks back to Jenna who is now standing at the front desk contemplating to help her or not.

He decides against it but doesn’t want to leave the celebrity waiting. He stands up and quickly grabs the closest thing to the back room door before putting his finger to his lips.

“Shh..” He says, eying her as a playful threat before chucking the item at you and rushing through the door.

The thing hits your head and you whip around, barely missing Lyle as your eyes land on Jenna who held her books, glancing between the storage room and you.

“Did you..” you say, pulling your headphones out and picking up a mouse key that had been ripped off from the cord. “Did you just throw a mouse key at me?” You ask with playful tone as you walk toward her.

Jenna thinks back to Lyle’s silence threat before speaking. “You weren’t paying attention, it’s bad customer service.” She just shrugs.

“Oh, my bad.” You say putting your hands up in defense and her smile grows. “I’m sorry I was doing my job,.” You say shaking your head before playing glaring at her.

Be confident, all girls like that!

Mj’s words ring through your head making you cringe slightly.

Not too confident, that’ll get you punched.

Dru had stated after and your lips pull up at the memory of Dru getting punched at the skating rink during you tenth grade year.

You think of all the pick-up lines that actually seemed subtle and weren’t cringe worthy but decided against it as she pushes the books toward you.

“So, what’d you think?” You ask taking them and scanning the under the red light and pressing the ‘return’ button on the computer screen.

“I actually enjoyed between shades of gray surprisingly even though it was pretty dark,” she says shyly and you nod. “But the other wasn’t really good.”

“Just shows I have better taste than you.” You tease lightly, attempting to flirt but realizing it wasn’t actually flirting.

You were starting to realize how bad of a glitter you really were and Mj was right.

You feel your phone buzz go off multiple times at a time as Lyle comes out of the storage closet with a box full of old tapes you had just put back in there a little while ago.

He takes his seat and watches through the corner of his eye, looking through the black blocks clearly acting like he was doing something as he ease-dropped.

You roll your eyes before leaning against the counter, rolling your thumbs around each other, becoming nervous by the sudden pressure of his gaze.

“Does he always stare at you like that?” She suddenly asks, amusement clear in her voice making you snort.

“Unfortunately yes,” you say and his head yanks toward you, fake offense taking over his features. “He’s always been weird but I guess that’s what makes us friends.”

He forms a heart with his hands before blowing you a kiss making you grimace at the large man.

“So,” you say looking back up to her, noticing her biting the inside of her lip slightly before looking back to you. “Looking for anything else or should I just get back to work?” You ask, smirking slightly as you look up toward her.

You hear a quiet snort come from Lyle and send him a mental glare in the process. Oh how you wished it was Dru here instead, hell even Mj would do.

“Actually, yes.” She says, perking up slightly at your mention. “I was hoping to get another suggestion from you, since you know.” She finishes making you raise an eye brow and hum to yourself.

You think through the hundreds of books you’ve read before coming to your conclusion and standing up straight.

“I have one,” you say and she nods. “I figured.” She replies as you pass through the low door and around the counter.

“It’s sort of the same as Between Shades of Gray, same time frame.” You say walking toward the historical section. “I will need to help get it though,” you snort to yourself, feeling glare in the back of your head.

“I’m actually six foot two if you remember correctly, it’s just the angle your looking at that makes me look shorter.” She argues and your smile grows.

“I’m sorry, I completely forgot I hope I haven’t offended you too deeply.” You tell her, bowing slightly as she passes you walking into the aisle with her head high.

“But in all seriousness,” you say scanning over the the spines of the books. “What made you think the name ‘Top Shelf’ wouldn’t be quite literally the top shelf.” You reach out and grab the book ‘The Book Thief’ before turning to her.

“I thought it was like a metaphor or something.” she mumbles taking the book from your hands, reading the cover.

“Oh definitely, especially with the owners being tall themselves.” You say, laughing at her glare at you through her eye lashes.

She rolls her eyes before moving past you and toward the front desk.

You follow after her quickly and go behind the desk again before pushing past Lyle who was messing with the computer.

“Excuse you,” he stares at you wide eyed as you click back to the search bar. “Your fault you were in my way.” You mumble only giving him a glance.

“Name?” You asks glancing toward and you can almost feel the glare Lyle gives you.

“You’re joking?” She asks, clearly unamused. “It’s policy.” You send her another playful smile watching huff out.

“Jenna Ortega.” She says before Lyle pinches your side making you jump slightly. “Stop that,” you whisper before kicking your leg back at him, you miss completely.

“Burrowing or buying?” You ask and she again, rolls her eyes. “Burrowing.”

You feel Lyle pinch your other side and you send him a glare, clearly wanting him out of your bubble and away from your conversation. “You’re so annoying.” You say before watching him stick his tongue and move back to his seat.

You look back toward Jenna who was, once again, chewing her lip.

You take her credit card and swipe it quickly, using your hand to keep him a safe distance away from you.

“Anything else?” You ask, glancing up to the girl who is already staring at you.

“Actually,” she mumbles quietly as Lyle pinches your arm pit making you elbow his chest and he lets out a hard huff.

“You seem pretty cool and I was wondering..” she hesitates for a moment, trying her best to maintain eye contact which makes Lyle stop, chest against your back.

She continues you hesitate as you bag the book and slide it toward, you fidgeted slightly as anxiety creeps up to your core.

“If I could have your number? Or maybe I could give you mine?..” there’s a sort of shyness in her voice and she begins to bite the inside of her lip again.

You stare at her dumb founded a second, not fully expecting that.

But then again it was very obvious it was coming from the first part of her sentence, that was clear especially to Lyle who glances between you two.

The two wait for your response that seems to never come which makes Lyle’s eye twitch and Jenna to shift on her feet.

“You can say no, of course I just thought I’d ask.” She says, voice even quieter which makes Lyle decided to take matters into his own hands.

He snatches the phone from your pocket and sends you a small knowing smirk before turning to the girl. “Excuse her, she’s not used to these kind of interactions.” He says unlocking you phone and opening your contacts and going to the number screen.

“She is, after all, a librarians daughter. She just has no game what’s so ever.” He shakes his head and clicks his mouth. You quickly snap out of your dazed state to glare toward him.

“Yeah, sorry but I’d actually love that.” You say before watching her smile grow and all the nervousness leave her body as she begins to type.

“Cool,” she says before handing you your phone back. “Very cool.” Lyle states as he nods and gives you a knowing look.

“Text me,” she says before picking up her bag and walking toward the door. “I mean it!” You watch her stern look as her body guards stand and open the door for her with a goofy smile on your face.

“I will!” You call out as the door shuts behind her.

“Holy shit,” Lyle mutters watching her walk down the street. “Holy shit.” You repeat, still a little shocked by the whole situation.

“Jenna Ortega thinks my best friend is cool and gave her her number.” He says pulling out his phone and typing quickly before you feel a buzz in come from the phone in your hand.

You open the text messages in the group chat and see a series of text between Lyle, Mj and Dru. They had to have been spamming the entire time.

You read over the last text and snort.

My best friend is cooler than you, you also owe me twenty bucks <3

Read next part here!

A/N: Lyle being R’s wingman is in fact canon🫶🏻

Also, while you’re here why don’t you request something for different characters. I have some drafts for other things I’m working on but I would let to create some you guys ideas!

#Jenna Ortega #Top shelf #jenna ortega fanfic #Jenna Ortega x reader #tara carpenter #scream 5 #scream 6 #wednesday Addams #Vada Cavell #jenna ortega x you #Lorraine day #x #the fallout #Jenna Ortega imagine

826 notes · View notes

tookthe-405 · 2 months

Text

On our way

Flashback 1: We were younger…

(I wanted some more backstory I’m sorryyy)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸

DONATIONS 🍉

(Not so loserish)ellie x fem!reader

a/n: some fluffy flashback from when they were 14 to give some happiness :)

Max and Chloe coded!! (Just realised that wtf)

put my whole childhood homoromantic friendship into this 😪

RILEY MENTIONED!?? they did you dirty my love

c/w: compulsive heterosexuality?!(not much though), a chicken heart?😭, a bit of fighting (ofc!), jealousyyyy, panic attack (yes again)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

(Reader and Ellie are 14)

(4 years ago)

Readers pov:

9/14

Whatever negative, people say about eighth grade, it's true. Eighth grade sucks. Seventh grade is manageable. Sixth grade? fine but Eighth grade was a new level you didn't know you had to go through. Few weeks in and its already a nightmare for you and all your friends. Thank god you found some.

When you got into middle school a few years ago, you and ellie managed to persuade joel to send ellie to the same school as you. Which wasn't a hard decision for him, because in a small town in Boston, he didn't have that many options.

But you didn't get into the same class, which was quite scary for you at first. Ellie, on the other hand, is good at talking to people, sometimes a bit too well, and then she says things that she should probably have kept to herself.

However, you had problems at the beginning of the 5th grade. The fear of being rejected by people you studied with for a years had haunted you.

Some of the classes were mixed together and you still remember how quickly you scanned the room, so you could find ellie to sit next to her, and unsurprised there were a few people around her laughing. You stood next the crowd, too shy to get Ellie's attention. She didn't notice you at all at first, but talked and laughed with the classmates around her.

That was the first time you felt afraid of losing her to people who are more In so many patterns. For a few seconds, you just stood there and watched her. Her easy-going but also attentive nature, which attracted people like the light a moth.

It was like magic.

She played with the feelings and laughter like water. Light in her hands, without meaning and purely out of feelings, but so careful. This was her stage, she was in her element, and you would always just sit in the audience, with an astonished and envious gaze.

But then she saw you and brought a gap through the crowd to show you that she had secured a free seat for you, with her backpack.

But today it is no longer the case. Eighth grade is a lot of shit, but you've finally made friends in the meantime. For a matter of fact, you're talking to one right now, but you're too engulfed in your thoughts.

"Hellooo you still there?"

Your body stiffens and you quickly turn away from the window, into the direction of Isabella .

"What?" you completely forgot that you are currently in biology and In the company of a friend… and that you still needed to finish a partner project.

Isabella giggles softly.

“You’re always doing that, what is your head thinking about?”

she playfully taps your forehead with her index finger. You grin slightly and wipe her finger out off your face.

“Nothing I’m okay”

“I Hope so because we Are supposed to dissect a chicken heart and not stare out the window”

A glance at the table and there is the chicken heart she’s talking about.

“Yeah no thank you” you say with a grimace that makes her laugh.

“It’s okay we can google the tasks at home, this is torture.” She sighs, puts the lid over the heart and takes of her gloves, you do the same nodding.

“So” she turns to you again with that curious grin of hers.

“What have you been daydreaming about the past few days?”

You let out a nervous laugh and wave your hand in the air.

"nothing what am I supposed to dream about, so…"

She raises her eyebrows reproachfully, she knows how you lie.

"You don't have to tell me, but is it a certain someone who starts with E?"

Your blood freezes with shock, but also respectful fear, of her alleged knowledge.

"what i don't know who you mean" Sweat forms on your palms and you quickly rub them together so that they don't Stupidly betraye you.

"I guess I hit the bull's eye, I knew you liked him?" Your forehead frown on its own and your stress sweat turn into anxiety sweat.

"Him?"

Isabella nods. "Eliza, you like him… Right"

The first two letter almost give you a heart attack but then you just frown at her.

she seems confused by your confusion, you turn around slow, as you are sitting in the first row, to stare at the boy in the last corner.

He just laughed and pressed the chicken heart into his sitting partner's face.

Ew.

Isabella doesn't seem to notice how disgusted you are, because she gives you a promising and excited look. Something pushes you to lie, you couldn't control it even if you tried.

"Yes, that's it" a sad smile on your face as you say the words.

Before she can react, the door is opened in a loud swing and ellie is standing in the doorway, grinning, behind her a few boys and girls.

"Hey" she gives you a warm smile that you knwo all to well, her arms resting on the table.

Then she looks up at Isabella emotionlessly.

"Isabella"

"Ellie" she replies dryly.

Yes, the two don't like each other very much. Then ellie's smile turned, quickly, sending it back to you.

"Aren’t you done yet?"

"No, young lady, they are not, and you knock before you come in" Ms. Perlow's voice booms through the room.

Any normal student would be scared, which justifies this woman is scary, but ellie isn’t sacred at all.

Grinning, she raises her arms in the air, as if she’s been caught stealing. A few children giggle at her gesture, but the older woman doesn't think it's so funny.

"Ellie, it's the same every time, you make a clown out of yourself for God's sake, leave this task to the boys"

Mrs. Perlow looks away for a moment to massage her temples with her thumbs and pointing fingers, which you felt a bit sorry for, she was soo old. Ellie of course doesn’t care.

She quickly rummages for something in her jacket pocket and nimbly presses a small piece of paper into your hand.

"Okay, till next time, Mrs. Perlow," she calls into the room before disappearing out the door.

"I hope not," the teacher murmurs audibly, however, and whispers break out again, in the classroom.

Your fingers try quickly and unevenly to open the note.

Meet me at the new dinner down the street, I’ve got news and please don’t bring Isabella along

- your favourite person ever

P.S your hair looks pretty :)

With each step, you tousle the autumn leaves on the ground. It was kind of fun though, so you didn't stop, the scurrying sound of the dead plants in your ear.

Ellie mentioned a new dinner, which you have already drove by once with joel. After a few weeks ago, you passed by the former tourist center, which was soon to be renovated into a dinner.

Ellie thought it was better right away, because there is no one who wants to look around here in a small town Beverly farms. The eastern side of Beverly wasn't really interesting, she was right, but you always thought the little town was cute.

Here is everything you need and you have the sea right in front of your nose.

As you walk down the street with your backpack on your back, you think about what Ellie must have meant by "ive got news".

Before you know it, you'll be standing in front of the new store. "Seth's dinner". It actually looks very cozy, the light inside seems warm and a few people have already become aware of the place.

It seems to you just in autumn, very hopeful? A new beginning that is going well, a small but beautiful change in this small town. When you open the door, the door snorts cold from the air, the pleasant air surrounds your face.

There also seems to be a bar, graceful bottles on the wall and behind the counter. But otherwise it seems to be a normal dinner. Greasy smell of fries, burgers and beacons in the air, but on the order table it is written (in beautiful handwriting) that there should also be donuts and pancakes in the morning. In the evening, the bar opens.

At the counter, an older man is eyeing you, who is drying a glass. You've never seen him before, and he looks spooky right away.

Your head turns in every direction until you see the waving hand of Ellie, who had held a seat across from her in a corner of the table. It looks a bit like the dinners in Joel's old movies.

With a loud noise, you drop your bag and sit down opposite her. You let out a tired sigh, but then you notice Ellie's excited look. You shrug your shoulders uninformed.

"What?"

"Wait, I want to order before I tell you"

Her legs were constantly wriggling with hustle and bustle and you can't help but smile a little. The waiter came to your table and you two ordered 2 fries.

"Okay, tell me now" you say

Something good releases in your chest, you suppress the distracting feeling before it could reach the surface. The sparkle on ellie's face made you nervous in various ways.

"Okay, but promise me you won't be angry, ok?"

Okay, so the bad nervous feelings won. You strain straighter, ready for whatever might come your way.

"How old are we ellie, you don't always have to say that, when you've done something"

Ellie laughs so bright, that sound that you appreciate so much every time, as if it gives you water just before you dry out.

"remember how We wanted to go fishing with Joel this weekend"

You shake your head.

"You wanted this, not me ellie"

"yes, anyway, and you know Riley, don't you? From my English course"

Your shoulders slumped, just as you were about to answer, your order arrived. The old man from the counter. You automatically avoid eye contact. As he quietly, almost like a ghost, puts down the plates in front of you, he stops abruptly and stares at ellie's legs.

"Can you stop fidgeting like that, it drives me crazy"

His voice is exactly how you imagined it, rough, a little hollow somehow and he sounds like he's been a smoker for 10 years.

Ellie looks after him with a pissed expression on her face and starts shaking her legs even more out of provocation.

"Whatever, Riley wanted to come this time and her parents allowed it, isn't that cool"

You're not as enraptured by the idea as Ellie is and you tap with the tips of your fingers, and an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, on the table a little rhythm.

Ellie's foot bumps against yours and you look up at her even before she grabs your hand.

"Now I understand what the old man means, it really makes you nervous" she Chuckles and you just feel her hand for a moment. It lightens yours gently, but not considerately, as physical contact is normal between you.

Or at least it should be. But her fingertips triggered a wave of heat that spread to your face like wildfire.

You quickly flinch back, worried that Ellie might feel your pulse, which beats very erratically. Your thoughts are circling around, unsure if the feeling is positive or negative. It feels… nice? Exciting and it's directly addictive, you feel your inner self wanting to reach for more, but an indecent anxiety accompanies you every time you allow yourself to think this far.

"so you don't like idea huh?"

Your head goes up. Shes the same as always, reddish hair, green eyes, those freckles… Ellie's own gaze has descended. You never wanted to see her like that. Now you nudge her under the table with your foot.

"No, I think it's a good idea" you lie straight to her face.

The well-known grin creeps back onto her face and she stuffs a french fries into her mouth.

Then she proudly told you how she was sent to the school principal almost twice, but also about how she got a B+ in math and how the subject gets way too much hate.

You tell her that it deserves even more hate and about the weird interection with Isabella.

Ellie choked on a french chip and coughed so hard that Seth almost kicked her out. She said that she would know if you liked someone and that Isabella shouldn’t think she could be more important to you, than she really is.

This gave you a tingling feeling, so that you almost completely forgot about riley

"I don't understand your anticipation about something like that" Confused, you watch Ellie excitedly digging her fishing stuff out of the rack.

After joel voluntarily took her with him a few times, it became a little tradition and she got her own fishing set, which she takes care of like a mother.

"I like fishing and I like to eat fish, it's a perfect fit."

You're leaning your shoulder against the door of the garage when she bumps her head under joel's workbench.

“Ow”

He can't stow boxes well and safely. But there isn't much space here either, the green pick up truck, tools and the bench on which he has already built the craziest things for ellie.

"I don't get it no, I don't like the hunt and the taste of fish very much"

You always feel like an unnecessary murderer,since you kill the beings and it doesn't give you anything.

Ellie grabs her personal spare fishing line and packs it into her fisherman's backpack.

"Then you can leave the fishes you catch to me… if you catch any at all" She grins at you challengingly.

"Hey!" You point your finger at her. "I'm not that bad."

“No, I wouldn’t want to be reminded of how bad I am either, I get it." She says and you can hear her fucking smile in her voice.

"whatever ellie, i don't like it and it’s not because I’m not good at it"

"Oh no its not that your not good at it, its that your terrible at it"

Annoyed, you roll your eyes, turn around and leave Ellie in the room, but you both have a grin on your mouths. In the kitchen, Joel waits in his typical fisherman's outfit at the dining table, with a magazien about horse races.

He actually just looks like a forester. "Hey little one you ready for the trip?"

You let yourself fall across from him, on the wood table , which Joel must have built and sanded himself.

In the beginning, you had a lot of trouble with him, he was older and taller than most of the fathers you knew.

He was also a bit old to be ellie's father. Which, in the end,turned out that he wasn't. Not exactly.

That's why he was a little colder to you at the beginning, to test you. What does it take you to leave ellie, how quickly can someone get rid of you.

He wanted to know so he could protect her from it.

That's what you're understanding today.

Ellie couldn't afford to lose any more people, and you'd be lying if you said you would have done it differently in his place.

Yes, he was a bit intimidating at first, but after a few months he softened.

Now ellie worries that he loves you more than her, but you know the truth. No one could get close to ellie, just like no one would ever get close to sarah. Probably not even Ellie herself.

You really wanted to know what name would use Ellie for the both of you?

The thought of a name, It scares you both. Because it was more than friendship yet less than- "hey you okay?"

Joel and ellie stare at you.

You nod quickly and look at the clock.

”Didn’t she wanted to be here already?" Your question was more directed towards Ellie.

Then the house bell rang and your hope falls deep and painful.

Ellie's face is starting to shine again, and even though that was one of your favorite pictures, it started to annoy you very quickly the last few days.

"Wait, I forgot my gloves," she dashed up the stairs with her huge hiking backpack and her much too loud shoes.

Her nimble footsteps could be heard throughout the house. Your gaze flicks back to a very concentrated joel, who twitches his head towards the door, to make it clear to you that you should get it.

You let out a little sigh and wander extra slowly to the door, maybe she left. She didn’t.

But You can't lie, riley was pretty. and nice. clever too. It annoyed you to the bone.

"hey"

You look at her for a moment and immediately notice the backpack and the fishing rod. God ellie will love her.

"Hey come in"

You politely open the door for her, before she enters the house she quickly takes off her shoes. Jesus, good manners too.

"Riley, Welcome, we'll leave as soon as this girl finds her gloves" he laughs in his typical raspy voice.

"Don't talk about me if when not in the room," Ellie yells down and Riley giggles. "Thank you for taking me with you this time, Mr. Miller.“

You didn't know Riley, but you can tell right away that she's very intelligent and that you understand Ellie liking for her.

As much as you try to cover it up.

Joel shakes his head. "You can call me Joel"

Riley nods briefly, and Ellie shoes can be heard whizzing down the stairs again. When she sees Riley, she freezes for a moment, even though she knew she would be here.

For a moment you wondered why she did that, but then you got it.

"Hey Riley"

"Hi Ellie"

The drive to the lake was 20 minutes. And they were the worst 20 minutes of your life. Ellie wanted to sit next to riley so bad she left the front seat to you. She never does that.

From the mirror you could see the two of them laughing, talking as if they have known each other for years.

For the first time, it seemed to you that ellie wanted to share her stage with someone. It's as if she's brought someone from the audience to the stage.

And that someone wasn't you.

You didn't say a word the whole way. Not a word.

When the bluish lake was visible trough the many trees, you wanted to drown in it. Now you still want that.

The weight of your backpack bends your back right now, and ellie and riley never looked happier.

"Have you ever fished before, riley?"

you ask the tall girl.

She nods. "My grandfather used to take me on his trips sometimes."

"So cool," Ellie murmurs.

You thought everything was shit in this place. The lake looks so unwelcoming in the fall, as if it is personally trying to tell you to just give it up.

The old wood of the jetty squeaks and slips because of the humid air and you doubt the stability of the old thing. Joel prepares a place where he can fish in peace and quiet, and gives you younger people the freedom to do it on their own.

As the youngest in the group, it doesn't help that you really are bad at fishing, but you should be able to do connect the purr and the fishing rod.

Actually, you only have to manage to connect a fishing line, the rest takes care of itself.

Too bad you're so bad to make this fucking knot.

and you really try, but it just doesn't work. After a while you get too uncomfortable that you can't do it and you drop your fishing rod loudly on the wood.

Riley looks at you confused.

Joel was back at the car searching for the bait that disgusts you so much that you’re always afraid that the worms are still alive.

Ellie looks at you and stops at your bright red face. You can't read her look, you can't understand so much about what's been going on with her over the last few weeks, maybe even months.

But maybe you’re the problem too.

"Can you help Joel for a moment, we'll come right away" Ellie jerks her head in Joel's direction, as she talks to Riley.

She doesn't give you one last look before she goes past you towards the car.

The freckled girl steps forward and picks up your fishing rod, in front of you while you stare into the air like a little child.

"Whatever is going on with you today, the fishing rod really didn't deserve that"

You look downs a bit again to meet her eyes.

"What's wrong with you Ellie?"

"With me? nothing at all… What is wrong with me?"

Her shoulders tense just a little bit, but you don't miss it.

"The only thing you're talking about is riley, the only one you want to impress is riley"

Ellie takes a few steps back for some reason and looks behind you, probably at joel and riley who are still looking for the fishing lure, out of respect.

"I don't know what you mean"

You let out a snort and look at her. “I don't know you like that and it's driving me crazy"

"Why? Why can't I change, what's your problem?"

You want to seek closeness, her hand in yours to make the emotional distance disappear, but she takes a step back again when you try it.

It makes sense that she doesn't want that right now, but it still hurts incredibly how she runs away from you.

"It's not about you changing, it's good that you do, I don't care about that, but not who you do it with, Ellie" you remark.

For a second, she seems so far away, as if worlds universes separate you. In some summers, ellie and joel visit their family in texas, or drive into town for a few days. The separated time is not pretty, but neither is it gruesome.

Cause you can’t wait for her to come back, and she's just as excited about it as you are.

But I’m this moment, right now, you feel more separate from her than ever before.

"It's not always about you, I'm not your-"

Both of you weren't sure how it happened, because all of a sudden she was in the water. You don't know if you pushed her or if she fell in because of her distance steps. But both would be your fault.

The sound the jetty makes, the platch of the water, the way she is so shocked as soon as her face reaches the surface.

With your hand in front on your mouth you watch as she stares at you indignantly. Thank god she can swim.

Her eyes and the light green of the lake, bite each other just a tiny bit. It almost seems to you as if it was so destined, ellie and the lake. And maybe that was the case, but not in autumn.

You can't imagine how cold the water is and her blue lips testify enough. But Ellie doesn't budge. For a few seconds, she just stares at you. Maybe so that she can picture it again later or to make you realize what you just done.

You two didn't have to check if joel and riley noticed, you can already hear the stomping footsteps.

"Im sorry I-" you turn around so fast that you get dizzy and you almost fall into the lake too , you run so fast down the jetty that Joel can't stop you.

You're not quite sure where you're going. It all looks the same anyway. A play of colours, of orange and yellow on the ground and in the crowns of the trees. The sounds of birds and the dead leaves in the air.

As soon as you don't feel your legs anymore, you stop.

Your lungs sound like they're about to give up on you, and you are about to hyperventilate. It feels like you're always running, if not physical, then emotional.

You run when you're awake, when you're asleep, when you're sitting, Whether that's on ellie‘s old couch or when you have dinner with your family. Something scares you and it's always in the back of your mind, no matter where you are or with whom.

All of a sudden, your chest feels too tight and your head too much, but the world feels too small. It's as if all the air in the world is evaporating in front of you, and you can't do anything but try to get some oxygen with every breath. Your arms rested on your knees, your head spinning and-

"Hey?"

Your eyes rush open so wide and fast it almost hurts.

Ellie's clothes are completely soaked, so is her hair and she shivers slightly. And she's standing in front of you? She’s wearing an fishing jacket, a thick one and a wet one, but she doesn’t care.

"Hey it's okay im sorry I shouldn't have said that" she says it so fast, your brain almost misses it.

she doesn't ask if she can touch you, even if a precaution wouldn't have hurt you. At first only your hand, she grabs it very carefully and her cold skin makes you twitch a bit.

After that, she holds your cheek in her other hand to make you look up. You could still feel the drops of water hours later.

"Come here its okay, I’m fine" She takes puts both of her arms around you and one hand rests on your head.

She literally presses you against her. Her hand gently caresses over your hair. You've shoved her into an ice-cold lake and she's holding you like you're gold. As if you weren't a monster - as if you mean something.

Like a lost piece of a puzzle, your own arms sling around her and you put your head into her shoulder.

You cry so often, and you know it. You know how overwhelming it is for you, for the people around you, maybe even annoying, but not for ellie.

The animals of the forest hardly bothered, even if it was like the whole forest when quiet for a short minute. But you might have imagined that too.

"I'm really sorry ellie"

Your breaking voice is very low, though she hears it anyway.

"I know everything is okay I’m fine, I’m sorry too"

Out of surprise, you stiffen for a moment.

"I dragged you out here and hardly spoke to you. You're only here because of me" she explains and You can’t deny that.

You were going to stay like this a little longer, but suddenly ellie's breath hitches.

"don’t fucking move"

Her words run like a cold down your spine and into your ear, all the way to your legs. You were prepared for something that would tear you apart from behind But not knowing what it was almost killed you by itself.

Her arms loosen and turned you around a little in the other direction. Her eyes are still directed forward, into the forest.

When you slowly turn around, theres only a… deer?

You suppress the urge to tease Ellie, expecting that a Serial killer with a pointed hook was standing behind you, but the beauty of the creature was already enough to shut you up. It's still a bit young, probably still baby.

The white dots reminded you of freckles, of ellie.

The same ellie who was still standing next to you, way too close. But by too close you mean “exactly close enough”. Just perfect.

The two of you watch as the animal sniffs around on the ground. Ellie's wet hand prushes yours just a little.

A daring, yet intentional invitation, which you immediately accept.

The deer looks up even though you didn't make a sound.

And it's hard for you to breathe, as well as blinking.

This moment, this gracious moment should last as long as possible. It seems to both of you as if it is looking right into your souls, your hand squeezes ellies even tighter.

"Do you have your phone with you?"

With her big eyes she is still watching the deer. You shake your head.

"That's fine. I think it wont leave us, just for a little while.

a/n: I tried to make it a little less angsty (I failed forgive me)

INTERACT W LINKS ABOVE!!!! 🍉🍉

anyways hope you liked it pls repost and like!!! Next chapter the road trip will start I promise 🤞 (no hate to Riley btw I love her but let’s be fr reader would be jealous)

@yourelliewillms @bready101 @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @elliezato @macaroni676 @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @lovelyxbaby @yalaysbee @moonchild184 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @gosomewjere

79 notes · View notes

blue--ingenue · 10 months

Text

"Evasive Maneuvers" - Part 4

Read the next part

Summary: You've been in love with Sebastian since the moment you knocked him on his arse on your first day. Entering your sixth year, you finally begin working up the courage to confess your feelings when he suddenly becomes the best Beater Hogwarts has seen in decades - and subsequently becomes the school's most eligible bachelor.

Author's Notes: sorry for the little cliffhanger/teaser a few days ago hehe. i've been really excited to post this chapter and wanted to give you a sneak peek. anyway, seb is a mess, but i promise he gets better at expressing his feelings :) (i forgot to mention in previous parts, but all characters in this fic are aged 18+)

Sebastian cursed as his shoe caught on a loose floor tile, nearly stumbling down the short flight of steps leading to the Potions classroom. He’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed and everything else had gone downhill from there. He’d arrived at morning quidditch practice to an onslaught of rain. Despite the wind and near-torrential downpour, Imelda had insisted they run drills until their allotted hour on the pitch was up. It was their final practice before their match against Gryffindor. Not only was it one of the most anticipated matches of the season, but Madam Kogawa had also chosen this particular match to evaluate the two houses’ players for a chance to represent the school at the Championships. Sebastian barely had time to cast a half-arsed drying charm over his robes before realizing Potions had started ten minutes ago. Now he was barreling through the halls, irritated and hoping that his tardiness wouldn’t affect his partner’s grade as well as his own.

Remembering that his best friend stood just beyond the door in front of him, he paused to run a hand through his unruly curls and adjust his tie. He hadn’t abandoned all decorum in his tardiness, thank you very much. For some reason she was the only one he cared to check his appearance for. The whole world could think him a rumpled, muddy mess, but as long as he maintained his dashing charm in front of her, he was content. This was, of course, all due to the fact that she was his best chum. That was the only reason he could think of. She was a fixture in his life, occupying more space in his heart and his head than he had the words to describe. So it naturally followed that her opinion would matter above the rest. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. Just last week he’d spent the galleons he’d been saving for some new quidditch gloves on a lovely necklace for her. He told her he’d come across it just as he was leaving Honeydukes. In truth, he’d spotted it at Gladrags a week before the start of term and knew it would look perfect on her. He’d only visited the sweetshop after he had acquired the necklace. He decided to downplay his enthusiasm for her gift, just in case she got the wrong idea.

Sebastian was no fool to the nuances of courtship. Ominis had approached him over the summer to ask him for his blessing about courting Anne. Solomon, who had always had a soft spot for the Gaunt boy, and encouraged his endeavor with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Both boys knew that Anne was her own woman and that asking for his blessing was a mere formality, but Ominis insisted on speaking to both of her remaining family members just in case. He knew what it was like to lose family and he didn’t want to risk causing a rift between any of the Sallows.

Sebastian’s feelings toward his Gryffindor weren’t similar in the least. He’d seen witches and wizards fawning over one another as they walked arm-in-arm at Hogsmeade. He knew how ridiculous his classmates would act when the object of their affections glanced their way. Sebastian Sallow had never acted that way with her a day in his life. Sure, her presence left him invariably flustered, but that was simply because they were the closest of friends. He didn’t know how to put a name to the feelings she roused within him, but calling it something as trivial as “infatuation” seemed nothing less than insulting. No, she was far too extraordinary for that.

He was looking forward to putting this mess of a morning behind him. Spending time with her never failed to lift his spirits - which is why it hurt twice as hard when he stepped into the classroom and saw a familiar ginger nuisance standing in his spot. He was rooted to the spot, incredulous and fuming. He’d never taken issue with Weasley in any year previous, but since the start of term he seemed to be in the one place that was rightfully Sebastian’s - by his Gryffindor’s side.

“Ah, Mr. Sallow. Good of you to finally join us,” Professor Sharp drawled from the front of the classroom. “If you’d like to avoid losing Slytherin any house points for today I’d recommend finding a seat. There seems to be an open stool next to Mr. Clopton.”

Begrudgingly Sebastian stalked over to Everett’s workbench and dropped his books onto the table with far more force than necessary. From across the room his Gryffindor shot him a sympathetic smile. It was like the first rays of sun had disintegrated the clouds from this morning’s offending storm. Looking around, she hastily scribbled a note onto a spare bit of parchment before waving her wand over it. With a soft pop the note appeared next to him. He smiled and snatched it from the table, unfurling it with speed.

Sorry, Garreth volunteered to take your place when Sharp noticed you hadn’t yet arrived. Catch you after class?

He let the note fall to the table and plastered on a nonchalant smile. She seemed relieved, and for some reason that only seemed to irritate him further. Did being his partner mean so little to her that she was already content to continue on? To add insult to injury he was now forced to spend the next hour with Clopton. He was an alright bloke, but his obsession with quidditch meant that he was one of Sebastian’s biggest fans. He felt flattered, truly, but Everett’s presence began grating on his nerves once he started butting into the rare free time he spent with his Gryffindor. Seeking out a distraction from the hornet’s nest of feelings trapped within his head he turned to Everett to ask how far along they were in the potion recipe.

The Ravenclaw stood stock-still, as though he couldn’t believe Sebastian was actually talking to him after nearly a month of dismissed conversations.

“Everett?” he prompted, exhaustion leeching the annoyance from his tone. He seemed to come to his senses at last and fumbled for the open potion book propped up against their cauldron.

“Just here,” he replied, pointing to the second step. “I’ve already gathered the necessary ingredients, so we can just carry on with the chopping.” Sebastian thought he sounded far too enthusiastic for their first class of the day, but obliged. He’d just finished crushing the last bit of moonstone when Everett piped up. Unsurprisingly, and much to his dismay, he began prodding Sebastian about his broom skills. Sebastian gave a few obliging nods as he tuned out the boy’s rambling, intent on finishing their brew as quickly as he could.

“The maneuvers you pull during practice are incredible! And on a school-issued broom, no less!” He carried on. Haughtily he added, “Of course, my broom is one of the fastest on the market. Begged my parents for one of those models for a year. A newer model was close to being released by the time they finally caved.”

Sebastian gave a noncommittal hum and focussed on listening in on the couple occupying his usual station. His hand stilled over the cutting board. Couple? He wondered. When had that word popped into his head? She and Weasley were hardly a couple. She was his best friend, and he was sure that he’d be the first one to know if she were even remotely interested in courting someone. To prove it, he looked up from his slicing to affirm their mutual distaste.

Only it didn’t look like distaste at all. She stood as she always did, elbows on the stained wood as she ran down the ingredient list with the tip of her wand. Weasley towered over her, reading over her shoulder with one arm supporting his weight atop the table. His attention caught on the boy’s face. He was smiling. It was soft and fond and trained entirely on her. Sebastian seethed. He didn’t know why this small act of affection lit a fire in his veins, but it just felt innately wrong, like stretching a muscle just a tad further than it was meant to bend. She was none the wiser as his larger hand brushed against hers in his attempt to turn the page. She turned her head then, realizing for the first time how close they were and blushed. This was ludicrous. Any closer and he’d practically have her pressed against the table. And what if he leaned down? What if he held her impossibly closer and pressed his lips against hers? Would she kiss him back? Sebastian wondered if she’d tug on his tie, pull him down and tangle a fist in his curls.

This was ridiculous. Unbelievable. The whole bloody world was spinning off its axis and Sebastian was the only one who seemed to notice. If anyone should be kissing her, it should be him. He was supposed to be the only one to-

Oh.

Oh, dear.

The world was no longer spinning off its axis. In fact, it wasn’t spinning at all. Everything and everyone was frozen and Sebastian was left to feel all these feelings in painful crystal clarity. He’d read about romance in the muggle novellas Anne had teased him for buying, but on paper everything was straightforward. The hero knew he loved the girl, and the girl loved him right back. In all the books he’d read the couples were inseparable. There was never a question of whether they loved each other, not one true doubt to be found. From Prologue to Epilogue he felt safe knowing that the couple would ultimately get their ‘happily ever after.’ Things were different once the books were back on their shelves. Happy endings were rare, if they even existed at all. His parents were kindred spirits, their love for one another so powerful that it flowed into every nook and cranny of their home. His mother used to tuck them in and say that she loved their father so much, the world decided they needed two children to carry it all. Those happy honeyed years were tucked safely away in his mind, where the memories of his parents’ demise and the rest of reality couldn’t touch them.

Love was soft and sweet, and the world was a sharp and insatiable thing. The years following their move to Feldcroft were a special type of purgatory. The memories of his beloved childhood swirled cruelly in his mind’s eye each night, just vivid enough to remember yet just out of reach. A shard of fear pierced his chest. He couldn’t bear to lose her like that. He didn’t think he could stand getting so close to another person only to have them inevitably ripped away. Sebastian Sallow yearned for fairy tale endings, but he didn’t know if he believed in them anymore.

A high-pitched hissing tore his focus away from his epiphany and the world spun on as if he hadn’t just realized something beautiful and horrible and terrifying. It intensified and he realized the noise was coming from Weasley’s cauldron. He could only watch on as it erupted, sending metal shards and acidic splatters every which way. Garreth tackled his Gryffindor to the floor, shielding her with his own body while the failed potion smoked and ate through his robes. She frantically tore the tattered robe from his body before it could make contact with the rest of him and the two froze. Although he couldn’t hear them over the chaos the rest of the room had erupted into, he knew she was asking if he was alright. He nodded and Sebastian saw red as he brushed her hair back to look at a nasty cut on her forehead. Garreth’s discarded robe smoked behind him, his shirt torn in a few places, and gently held her face in his hands as he checked for more cuts. He only barely registered Sharp dismissing the class for the day before he was grabbing his things and slipping out of the classroom.

Taglist: @snickette, @findingtruenorth23, @plooloo, @paganicher, @smilesworldsposts, @snoozebun, @crazyllamasurfer, @pixie-dustss, @margottheviking, @lollife1617, @tired-meg, @somethingiswrongwithme

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #angst #fluff #pining

186 notes · View notes

katsu28 · 1 year

Text

even after all these years

pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

summary: based on the prompt “i take my little sibling to their school’s halloween carnival and you’re one of the volunteers/workers there and you’re super cute” but slightly different

warnings: light swearing, bats

a/n: is it even legal to finally be posting a halloween fic in december? let’s pretend it is and i’m not criminally late with it! but in my defense, i started writing this before halloween and then just never finished it </3

navigation + taglist

Eddie didn’t want to be here. Now don’t get him wrong, he liked Halloween just as much as the next person, but being around all these people that were ready to hunt him down and burn him at the stake just months ago, who were now pretending like it never happened, just didn’t tickle his fancy.

But Dustin and Steve were very adamant on him coming with them, and as much as he wanted to decline, he couldn’t.

So now here he was, shuffling behind his friends as they wandered around the Hawkins High parking lot that had been converted into a makeshift Halloween carnival, trying his best to ignore the stares and whispers aimed his way.

Eddie was no stranger to them, but these were different. He wasn’t just a freak, he was a so called “murderer”. Even though his name had been cleared a long time ago.

“Dude, you look like you’re about to piss yourself. Relax.” Steve’s voice drew him out of his thoughts, his eyes flicking to the brown haired boy currently raising a brow at him. “You’re fine, Munson.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever.” Eddie muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket sulkily.

Dustin cast a glance back at him, frowning when he saw the older boy kicking a rock down the gravel path, much more interested in the toes of his dirty sneakers than anything else around him. He felt bad for dragging Eddie here when he obviously wasn’t having any fun, but it was good for him to get out more. He’d barely left Steve’s house at all the past seven months, only managing to drag himself to Hellfire meetings and to give Dustin an occasional ride home from school.

“Hey, you wanna come with me to get my face painted?” Dustin asked excitedly, making his way back to tug on Eddie’s sleeve with a grin. “I was thinking like a huge spiderweb, straight across my cheek. Pretty badass, don’t you think?”

“I guess.” Eddie shrugged, instantly feeling guilt pool in his stomach when he saw Dustin’s shoulders slump. So he tried his best to remedy it by plastering a smile on his face, clapping him on the back and pulling him closer by the collar of his jacket. “That does sound real badass, Henderson. Lead the way.”

Dustin perked right back up, launching into a mindless ramble about some species of spider that Eddie wasn’t paying attention to all that much as they made their way through the crowds of kids and parents to the face painting table. Immediately plunking into a free chair across from one of the Hawkins High science teachers, Dustin started talking again, probably forgetting that Eddie had come with him.

Eddie, on the other hand, was about ready to ditch him, since he was getting a few weird looks as he just stood in the middle of the array of tables awkwardly.

“Hey, I know you. You’re—”

“Yeah, yeah, Eddie the freak, satanic worshipper, murderer, yada, yada,” He grumbled, deciding to slouch over into another flimsy plastic chair with his arms crossed over his chest to get out of people’s way, barely hastening you a glance before focusing his scowl on the worn out knees of his jeans.

“Uh…okay. That’s not what I was thinking of though.” You frowned. “Hawkins middle school debate team, sixth grade.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up, widening in horror at the sight of you. You, out of all the people he could’ve snapped at.

He remembered you, and he definitely remembered that year. The year he went to live with his uncle, which then turned into two, then three, then the rest of his life.

He’d been having trouble adjusting to being moved around so much, so he’d started acting out. Arguing with teachers, interrupting class randomly, cutting school, the whole nine yards. Apparently, he was so good at arguing with authority figures, they decided to stick him on the debate team as punishment. But honestly, it wasn’t so much of a punishment when he realized that you were also on the debate team.

Bright eyed and bushy tailed with the brightest of smiles, you were Eddie’s first crush. You were one of the only people who didn’t treat him like a total freak, sitting with him during debate practices and talking to him when no one else would, even going so far as to share your snacks with him. You never brushed him off or called him a weirdo, and you’d even kicked Tommy H in the nuts one time when he made a dig at Eddie’s clothes.

So when you moved out of Hawkins, he was pretty bummed. But now you were back, and he still felt the same butterflies in his stomach right now that he did back when he was twelve.

“What was that about being a murderer?” You tilted your head at him in confusion, to which he shook his head quickly.

“Nothing! I’m not—my name was cleared, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t murder anyone!” He tugged at the collar of his jacket awkwardly, half expecting you to shoot him a weird look.

But you just smiled, laughing a little bit. “That’s always good. Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi,” Eddie said sheepishly, holding up a ringed hand in greeting. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yeah, I’ve only been here for a couple weeks…” You trailed off, fiddling with your paintbrush. Hoping I’d magically run into you somehow, you wanted to add. But you didn’t. “I like your hair. Much better than the buzzcut.”

Eddie’s hand flew to his unruly curls, trying his best to smooth them down even the tiniest bit. You remembered what his hair looked like? More importantly, you remembered him?

“Oh, uh, thanks. I like your hair too.” His words came out in an awkward jumble that you just beamed even brighter at, eyes crinkling at the corners. I like your hair too? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You didn’t seem to think it was stupid. “You’re sweet. How’ve you been? What’ve you been up to?”

Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably. What had he accomplished since the last time he saw you?

He’d become a drug dealer, started a club that everyone thought promoted Satanic worship, been accused for multiple gruesome murders, almost died in Hawkins the horror dimension, came back, and was now even more of a loser freak than he’d already been.

“Uh, not much. Nothing too interesting.” He mumbled. “So…what, uh, what brings you back here?”

“My grandparents’ house was damaged in that earthquake back in March and they came to live with us right after, so we’re just here trying to…hopefully salvage some stuff, maybe see if we can fix it up.” You shrugged, waving your brush around aimlessly. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s too much we can do, that was a pretty intense quake.” Eddie didn’t mean to, but he flinched a bit at your mention of the quake, seeing as what really happened was so much worse than a natural disaster.

You noticed, instantly scrambling to rectify your statement with flaming cheeks. “I mean, obviously, you knew that, you lived through it. Sorry, that was really insensitive of me, I don’t—”

“It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” Eddie shook his head quickly, brushing it off. “I’m—I’m okay.” I nearly got eaten alive by demon bats from hell, but I’m okay. Obviously he couldn’t tell you that. Not only would he sound absolutely insane, but it would definitely scare you off, which is something he really didn’t want.

“Right, well, anyways—” You started, but were cut off by a cleared throat from a quite severe looking woman with a clipboard standing a few feet away, who was aiming a very pointed looking glare in your direction. Leaning in a little closer, your nose wrinkled in distaste, voice hushed so as to not draw her attention even more. “That’s my supervisor. She thinks I talk too much, paint too little.”

“Supervisor? Aren’t you a volunteer?” Eddie whispered, brows furrowing.

You shrugged. “Apparently this whole carnival thing is super serious this year.”

“Uh huh, because painting pumpkins on kids’ faces is such a serious thing.”

“According to her, it’s pretty much the most serious thing in the whole history of serious things.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

You had to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter, such a simple act that still sent a shot of warmth through Eddie’s chest. It also garnered the attention from your supervisor, whose angry steps quickly spurred you back to business as usual.

“And what would you like painted on your face today, Eddie?”

His lips quirked into a miniscule smile at your sudden forced enthusiastic tone, which brought a flush to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” You apologized sheepishly. “Too teacher-y?”

“I’d say just enough teacher-y.” He observed, nodding thoughtfully. “Reminds me of Mrs. Paulson from middle school. Y’know, the old lady who always smelled like pepperoni.”

“Pepperoni Paulson, I remember her,” You nodded as well, then squinted at him suspiciously. “Wasn’t she arrested for public intoxication a few years ago?”

“Yeah. I stand by my point.”

You let out a noise of indignance, eyebrows creasing and nose wrinkling in such an adorable way that Eddie almost felt the need to turn tail and run.

“Okay, asshole, what do you want painted on you?” You huffed playfully, poking his arm with the pointy end of the brush in your hand.

Eddie scratched at his nose. “Eh, I dunno. Surprise me.”

“You sure you wanna give me free reign after that smug comment? Might just draw a dick on your face to be funny.”

He couldn’t help it. A snorting laugh fell from his lips at how utterly serious you looked as you dipped the brush into the colorful array of paint in front of you.

You were the first person outside his friends not to tiptoe around him like he was about to snap at any second. Maybe it was because you had no idea what had really happened in Hawkins, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t used to it, but he liked it. He really liked it.

Both Steve and Dustin’s heads whipped around at the sound of Eddie’s laughter, regarding each other with identical wide eyed stares before gawking over at him. They hadn’t heard him laugh in months. They didn’t even know he still could laugh.

But there he was, sitting at the face painting booth across from you, head tipped back, shoulders shaking, looking…happy.

Eddie, on the other hand, felt like he was about to spontaneously combust at your close proximity—your fingers gripping his chin to keep him still, the delicate swipe of your brush across his cheek, your knees wedged between his own to get the right angle for steady strokes. How you radiated vanilla and cinnamon and the kind of warmth that spread through his own body with every carefully controlled breath he took.

To make matters worse, your tongue poked out from between your lips in pure concentration, something Eddie realized you had in common. Though he probably wasn’t as cute when he did it.

His gaze bounced around, focusing on anywhere else, anything else but you.

“You look kinda uncomfortable right now, Eddie,” You said softly, your breath a barely there puff of air across his skin that still had goosebumps raising on his arms. “Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?”

“No, I’m—I’m good! It’s just…cold out today.” He finished lamely, fingers fiddling with the rips in his pants.

“It is.” You concurred, smiling softly. “I gotta say, I definitely haven’t missed Hawkins in that area.”

Hawkins has definitely missed you, Eddie thought. Okay, maybe not Hawkins. Just me.

The paint on his cheek was cold too, but it did nothing to quell the flame of his cheeks to rosy red the more he realized that twelve year old Eddie would give anything to be where he was right now. Hell, even himself from a few months ago would’ve had an aneurysm if he knew that he actually had the chance to talk to you again.

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, jerking him back to reality. “Alright, take a look, tell me what you think.” You passed him a small mirror, leaning back in your seat. “You can tell me if you hate it. I’ll just go curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment.”

“I won’t hate it, I promise. I—” He glanced in the mirror, stopping mid-sentence when he saw what you’d created oh so carefully. A flurry of tiny bats scattered across his cheek, the black paint a stark contrast to his pale skin.

“Oh my god, you hate it!” You moaned, hiding your face behind your hands.

“I don’t!”

“You so do!”

“Y/N, I promise I don’t hate it. See, look,” He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket hastily to reveal a similar grouping of bats tattooed on his forearm. “More bats.”

The scars marring his torso and chest twinged, not out of pain, but as a reminder. Bats. Obviously, he couldn’t tell you the real reason why he wasn’t too fond of bats, but he’d sooner face the Upside Down again than tell you he hated what you’d done.

“Oh, okay. Good. Because I was afraid I just blew my chance at impressing you after all these years.”

“You—you wanted to impress me?” He asked incredulously, eyebrows furrowing.

“‘Course I did. Feels a little late to admit this, but I totally had a crush on you in middle school.”

“You did?”

“I did. I was even thinking about telling you before I left, but it just…didn’t feel right, y’know? Dropping such a big thing and then bailing?”

“Y/N, you moved away, that’s not bailing.” Eddie shook his head, then inhaled a sharp breath. “I—I actually liked you too. And I wanted to tell you back then, but then you…y’know, moved, and I thought I’d lost my chance.”

It suddenly felt a lot harder to breathe, but you managed to utter your next words despite it. “But now I’m back.”

“Now you’re back,” He repeated. “You’re back, and I get another one.” His hand came down on your knee, the warmth of his palm sending a different kind of warmth to your cheeks. “I still like you. I don’t think I ever stopped. I actually think it got worse—no, not worse! Liking you was never a bad thing, it was a really good thing. It has been a really good thing, I just—I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again, and now that I have, I…am totally rambling, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to—”

“Eddie—”

“—overload you with my feelings, I just felt like it was something I should tell you, since—”

“Eddie,” You repeated, your hand blanketing his on your jeans. “Stop talking.” His mouth snapped shut immediately, brown eyes wide. “I still like you too.”

“You…you do?” You nodded. “Even after all these years?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a soft smile.

“Even after all these years.” You echoed, tapping along the rings adorning his knuckles. His fingers twitched, aching to entwine with yours, but he was afraid that he might be hallucinating right now. There was no way in hell you felt the same way, now or ever. He wanted to pinch himself, but he felt it might be weird.

You could tell by the way his mouth dropped open the slightest bit that the cogs in his mind were working overdrive, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Eddie. Feel free to stop me.”

Eddie wasn’t going to stop you. He’d never even dream about it.

When your lips touched his, he could swear that he was dreaming—that any second now, he’d wake up in his own bed, back to the reality where this whole thing never happened. Where you were still god knows where, miles and miles away from Hawkins, probably not even paying him any mind at all.

This time, he really did pinch himself, and he was beyond pleased to realize that this was real, that you were in fact here, kissing him, right now. He leaned forward into you, one hand sliding around the back of your neck while the other cupped your cheek tenderly. Yours came up to grip at his biceps, fingers curling into the worn leather of his sleeves as if you were securing him place, making sure that he couldn’t slip away the way he did all those years ago.

And when his hands moved down to your chair to drag you a little bit closer, you took that chance to take his face in yours, tracing the curve of his jaw lightly as his mouth moved against yours eagerly.

Both of you seemed to realize that you were in a public place with lots of people around at the same time, pulling away from each other swollen lipped and a little breathless, but still with identical stupid grins on your faces.

“Oh no,” You pouted, holding up your hand for him to see the splotches of black paint smudging your fingertips. “I ruined my hard work.”

“Looks like you’re just gonna have to do them all over again.”

“Looks like it.”

“Can I make a request though?” You raised an eyebrow at his sheepish turned suspiciously giddy grin. “No more bats.”

“I knew you hated them, you asshole!”

“I said I didn’t hate them! They’re really good, but bats are just…not my thing.”

“Says the boy with the bat tattoo.”

Cocking his head to the side, Eddie ignored you, instead opting to lean in and kiss you again, and of all the ways he could’ve changed the subject, this was by far the best.

Eddie had never been so grateful for his friends’ constant pestering and dragging him everywhere he didn’t want to go, because it led him back to you, the one that got away. Twelve year old Eddie knew it was you, current day Eddie knew it was you, and now you knew it too.

He’d thank Steve and Dustin later when he had the time, but not now. Eddie was too busy planning out all the things he wanted to say to you and do with you before his luck turned and you were gone again. Though if he’s being honest, he doesn’t think you’re planning on leaving anytime soon.

Neither are you. No way in hell were you thinking about leaving when coming back to Hawkins got you paint smudged fingers, some closure, and finally Eddie Munson.

Even after all these years.

taglist!

@wittiestrain184 @milkiane @pastel-abyss-x @liltimmyst @lilygreennn @nia-um @pinkdaiisies @maciiiofficial @oliviah-25 @scoopsahoykeery @eddiesquinn @bubsonnobx @yearningforeddiemunson @sanzu-holic @cityofidek @strawberry-canyon

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #guess what bitch is writing fic instead of writing a paper #spoiler alert: it's me i'm the bitch #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic

512 notes · View notes

givemeanaccountalready · 4 months

Text

You know what I’m most curious about for Milgram? How did the first few days go over? Milgram kidnapped eleven people and threw them in a building with no exits or even a window, had one announce to the others that they were all murderers and they were going to investigate, and how well do you think that went over?

I can see those who were indirect murderers being much more sociable than those who directly took a life. Like Mikoto, who is so sure that all he did was dream and believed that this was some sort of game show, thinks the term murderer is made up and is just chatting away. Or Shidou, whose murder seems to involve his shitty bedside manner (pressuring families of brain dead patients to pull the plug and I think pressuring other patients to go through with risky organ transplants), is probably like yes, everyone must be involved with a death that would be hard to prosecute, I bet little Amane probably was playing with a friend who fell off the playground, cracked their head open, and died. Does she need a trusted adult?

Then you have Haruka and Muu, who directly killed their victims through very personal methods (strangulation and stabbing), who are rightly terrified that the others must have killed like they have and could be killed so they try to stay out of the spotlight. Kotoko, who stomped her victim to death, having the same line of thought as Kazui, a policeman, with needing to carefully evaluate the situation and not act rashly because they both realize that the chances of everyone having the same story as them is slim.

Just imagine the first meal together. It’s tense and awkward, as everyone steals glances at each other and pokes at the food, and then someone (Shidou or Mikoto, probably) breaks the ice.

Shidou: “Why don’t we go around the room and introduce ourselves? I’m Shidou Kirisaki. I’m 29 years old, and I worked as a doctor before coming here.”

Mikoto: “That’s a great idea! I’m-”

Fuuta: “Why are we doing this kiddie crap? We were kidnapped. And why are we eating with this cosplaying brat and a rabbit?”

Es: refuses to react

Jackalope: angry ear twitch

Mikoto: “Chillax. This is probably just one of those new reality shows.”

Fuuta: “You sign up for those, stupid. Do you remember signing up for this, because I sure as hell don’t remember-”

Shidou: cutting in “Language.”

Fuuta: “Are you fu-”

Mikoto: quickly “So, I’m Mikoto Kayano, 23, and I worked for a top of the line advertising company down in Tokyo! What about you, uh?”

Kotoko: “Kotoko Yuzuriha. 20. I was studying law, but I was taking a brief sabbatical before… this.”

Mikoto: “Cool! I don’t think I could be a lawyer. I’m terrible at conflict.”

Mahiru: “Same here! I’m Mahiru Shiina, and I’m 22 years old. I’m in my final year of studying literature at university.”

Shidou: “What about you? You must be in your last year of high school, right? What are you thinking of studying?”

Fuuta: sputtering “I-I’m in college! I’m 20, for God’s sake! I haven’t been in high school for a while. You need to get your eyes checked.”

Kazui: to Amane “Would you like to go next or should I?”

Amane: “You can go first. I don’t mind.”

Fuuta: loudly “I’m not done yet!”

Mikoto: “I thought you didn’t want to do this-”

Fuuta: interrupts “The name’s Fuuta Kajiyama.”

Kazui: “And I’m Kazui Mukuhara. 39. I’m a police officer.”

Kotoko: narrows eyes “A police officer? And you’re here?”

Shidou: to the four remaining “And you all?”

Amane: “My name is Amane Momose, and I am 12 years old. I’m in the sixth grade.”

Mikoto: disbelief “My God, you’re so young.”

Amane: “I’d prefer it if you didn’t offer me any sort of special treatment because of my age. Treat me as you would any other prisoner.”

Shidou: aghast “But you are a child.”

Amane: angry pout and about to argue when

Yuno: does not want to listen to them argue “I suppose I’ll go next. I’m Yuno Kashiki. 18. I’m in my final year of high school. And you?”

Muu: “M-my name is M-Muu Kusonoki. I am 16 years old and in my first year of high school. Please don’t hurt me.”

Kotoko: flatly “The grade-schooler has more guts than you.”

Shidou: “I would argue that she isn’t being foolish.”

Amane: “It would be foolish to ask for special treatment. I do agree with the sentiment but I don’t fear any of you.”

Fuuta: “You’re literally 12. How are you not pissing your-”

Shidou: “Language!”

Amane: “There is no need for censorship on my account. I know all the bad words already. Speak freely around me.”

Fuuta: smugly “Yeah, see? She’s probably heard worse from her classmates.” Points to Haruka. “What about you?”

Haruka: shrinks down in his chair “U-uh, I’m, um, I’m Haruka Sakurai. I’m 17, I think. I’m uh, not very bright. Please be patient with me.”

Shidou: “There’s no need to put yourself down. What year of high school are you in?”

Haruka: “I’m, I’m not. My parents said that, that they’d rather light the money on fire for warmth than send me to high school just for me to flunk out. It would be a better use of-”

Fuuta: angry “That’s fucked!”

Shidou: “Language!”

Yuno: “Hate to say it, but he’s right. It is messed up.”

Shidou: “It is, but there is no reason to use such language in front of a child.”

Amane: “You don’t have to protect me from foul language. I just said-”

Shidou: “What about you, Es? How old are you?”

Es: “15.”

Fuuta: “You have gotta be kidding me! The fate of our lives hang in the hands of a junior high student!”

Mikoto: “Relax. Our lives don’t really hang in their hands. It’s just a TV show.”

Fuuta: “This isn’t a TV show!”

#milgram project #milgram fanfic #shidou kirisaki #fuuta kajiyama #mikoto kayano

64 notes · View notes

introspectivememories · 5 months

Text

four months into getting to know each other, shouto finds him by touya-nii's shrine. his little brother gently sits down beside him and offers a small prayer.

"yumi-nee-san," natsuo wonders if his little brother will ever drop the second honorific, "said you were the closest to him," shouto says quietly.

after all these years and the use of past tense still makes his heart break. 'you are the closest to him' he wants to correct but that wouldn't make sense anymore. touya-nii hasn't been talked about in the present tense since before middle school. does shouto even remember a time before nii-san's dea-, disappearance?

"yeah, i was," he says, eyes never leaving the photo. it's the one nii-san took for sixth-grade picture day. kaa-san had got him all dressed up and he had hated it. somedays he thinks if he looks close enough, he'll see the displeased pout on nii-san face. "why?"

his little brother says nothing for a long time, back ramrod straight. natsuo has no idea what's going on in that head of his. shouto has so few tells that he's practically a blank slate. natsuo hates his father.

then slowly and so quietly, he has to strain his ears to catch it, shouto stammers out, "do-, do you think he would have liked me?"

natsuo's immediate reaction is to say 'yes'. yes, of course, touya-nii would've loved you. yes, of course, touya-nii would've crossed the heavens for you. yes, of course, he would've loved you shouto; you're his precious younger brother.

but he remembers the way nii-san used to spit out shouto's name when he was a kid. the way his brother's mouth wrapped around it, the face he made, like he had just eaten something disgusting. he remembers the way touya-nii had become almost crazed by the end, hellbent on proving himself the rightful heir to their shitty father's legacy. he remembers the way touya-nii had said, "i just need to prove that i'm better than him,"; the 'him' said with such bitterness and contempt.

he knows instantly that touya-nii would not have liked shouto. that this house and his father would have twisted any ounce of love, nii-san would've held towards shouto, into jealousy and hatred.

(this house may have ruined all of them but it only ever broke two of them.)

natsuo can't say any of that to shouto. his kind little brother who forgave him for not being there. his amazing little brother who falls in love with every cat he sees. his wonderful little brother who has a wickedly dry sense of humor. his soft baby brother who loves him and yumi-nee with a passion. his tender-hearted baby brother who still worries if his long-gone older brother would've liked him.

no, natsuo can't tell shouto that nii-san wouldn't have like him. shouto will internalize it like he does with everything else that hurts him. and there is already so much that hurts shouto, he will not add to that list. his baby brother smiles these days, nothing big like his green-haired friend, but quiet, lovely, ones all the same. shouto talks more these days. they have dinner together when natsuo is home. his baby brother laughs now. it's a miracle like nothing else in this world.

shouto is the best thing to come out of their house and natsuo will die before he ever hurts his little brother. so instead, he curls an arm around shouto's shoulders and pulls him into a loose side-hug.

"of course!" he lies cheerfully, ignoring the ache in his chest, "touya-nii would've loved you. you're his — and our —precious little brother after all. there is no universe in which he wouldn't have loved you."

the tips of his baby brother's ears go red and his pleased little answering smile makes the ache of lie go away. natsuo will tell a thousand more lies if it means shouto never stops smiling like that.

#PLEASE THEY MAKE ME INSANE!!!!#and the thing is natsuo's not wrong. touya really would've loved shouto in literally any other universe #also natsuo who fucking /adores/ his baby brother so much #shouto laughs and natsu's like: the second coming of jesus christ could not compare to this #100% natsu is shouto's overprotective brother #it's the like 15 years of suppressed older sibling instincts coming out #someone fucking looks are shou wrong and natsu's all up in their face like: what's your fuckin issue with my bro dude??#natsuo for once being thankful that he got endeavor's height and build #fuyu: i thought you said you didn't like looking like dad?#natsu: that was before i found out i could use it to intimidate people that looked a shouto wrong #fuyu: natsu you think every1 looks at shou wrong. you tried to fistfight a baby yesterday #natsu: yeah well it shouldn't have cried when shou held it. did you see how sad shou looked????#fuyu: never pegged you for a brocon to be honest #natsu: you take that back rn #todoroki shouto #todoroki natsuo #todoroki touya #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki family #bnha

65 notes · View notes

basementdoll · 11 months

Text

Do you remember the first time you got drunk, the first time you fell in love, the first time you got in a fight? Wednesday 13 does, and those memories aren’t all pleasant…

The Memory Remains

When was the first time you had sex?

“I was 15 and I was in the garage of my mom and dad’s house in North Carolina. I lost my virginity on a Roger Rabbit blanket, because it was really cold. The year was 1991, I believe. The girl was my high school girl and she’s now my wife. I’ve been with her for a long time.”

What were your first impressions of Murderdolls colleague Joey Jordison?

“My first impression, when I first saw him come by in his car, was that he was a girl. I was like, ‘Wow, who’s that chick?’. And he got out of his car and I realized it wasn’t a chick, it was actually Joey. But it was just that he looked so young, like a 16-year-old kid. Like I said, when I saw him in a car I thought he was a chick and then when I saw him up close I thought he was a 16-year-old kid.”

What was the first record you ever bought?

“I didn’t buy a record until I was 18 because I was too much of a cheapskate to get a job. The first record someone ever bought for me was an Alice Cooper record, a Mötley Crüe record and a Poison record in my stocking from Santa Claus. Alice Cooper had a big influence on me visually, and Mötley Crüe were a big influence because they were just a bunch of scumbags. Poison were cool, too.”

What was the first gig you ever attended?

“Mötley Crüe on the ‘Dr Feelgood’ tour. I was in the Seventh Grade, so I think it was 1988, and the venue was the Charlotte Coliseum. For a little kid who had never seen anything like that it was just awesome, to see all the lasers going off in the shape of a giant pentagram, to see the devil in the house from the first song. And to see those guys going about their stuff literally changed my life. It was such an awesome night.”

When was your first fistfight?

“It was in the Sixth Grade. It was with a guy who was once my best friend, and the fight was over a girl. Well, it was for him, because she’d left him to hook up with me. So we walked in the bathroom and he started swinging at me, and every time he swung he missed, he kept hitting the walls. He hit the walls more times than he hit me. So I just laughed at him and smacked him in the head a couple of times and that was about it. Sixth graders don’t really hurt each other that much. I do try and get along with everyone, but if I’m onstage and you throw a bottle at my head I will go after you.”

When was the first time you got drunk?

“I was 15 and it was during the time I was with my first high school band. The drummer had a party at his mom’s. They just lined up a bunch of different drinks for me and I had a go at each and every one of them. By the end of the night I was in a bedroom jumping up and down on the bed and then I passed out. But then next morning I was okay. I don’t get hangovers, not even now.”

When was the first time you ever took drugs?

“I have never, ever in my life taken any drugs apart from the ones you can buy over the counter. I have never smoked weed or done anything like that. And I’ve been around it all. It’s just not for me; I’ve never had the desire to do drugs. I drink but that’s because I want to, not because I need to. I’m a strong man.”

When was the first time you left America?

“It was on the first Murderdolls tour in the spring of 2002. And the first place we went to was Amsterdam.

What were your first impressions of Amsterdam?

“It was actually pretty scary. For a start I couldn’t believe all the people riding bicycles, about how easy it was to get run over by one of them. And there were all the drunk people, and the drug people. People stoned everywhere, people collapsed and shooting up on the street. For a boy out of North Carolina it was really quite a lot to take in, so I just observed a lot of things and kept my mouth shut.

When was the first time you ever laid a groupie?

“I’ve never done that. I know how that sounds, but it’s true. I have a cool family, I have a kid so I’m responsible.”

When was the first time you ever pissed off a tour bus driver?

“It was on the very first tour bus I ever got on, and it was with the Murderdolls. The bus was a piece of shit and it broke down, so me and Joey just started yelling at the driver. He got the bus started and we were like, ‘Don’t ever let that happen again’. And he told us to fuck off, and we told him to fuck off. And that was about it. But normally I get along pretty good with bus drivers, and I’ve had some very cool ones.”

When was the first time a fan asked you to autograph her breast?

“I get asked that every single day. The first time it happened I was like, ‘Are you serious?’. But over the years I’ve learned a distinction - I will sign above the breast, but I will never, ever sign on the nipple. I just tell them no, because I think it’s stupid. But I’ll sign the chest if they keep it covered up. I don’t really get a thrill from signing tits.”

When was the first time you really pissed off a headline band?

“There’s been many, but the best one was Iron Maiden. We pissed off their whole entire crew who wanted us kicked off the whole entire tour. We were in Croatia, it was extremely hot, we had a day off and we were in a hotel. We went out drinking and got completely wasted. We came back to the hotel and we were making noise down the street, throwing bottles at the windows of the hotel. The people inside the windows began shouting at us and because we didn’t know who it was we just started shouting at them to fuck off, that we would kill them if they didn’t. But it was Iron Maiden’s crew, because when you’re drunk everyone looks like everyone else. And the next day we found out we’d threatened to kill everybody on Iron Maiden’s crew, and we weren’t even allowed in the venue. So we had to buy everyone roses and apologise to every one of their 30-man crew. It took a couple of days but by the end of the tour they were hugging us again. But I think Iron Maiden themselves would rather not ever see us again.”

#wednesday 13 #murderdolls #joey jordison #my scans #“WOW who's that chick?”#i fucking loooove this page its going on my wall

96 notes · View notes

alliluyevas · 3 months

Text

Fic Author Interview (meme)

I was tagged by the lovely @heckofabecca. Thanks, Becca :)

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

71...I honestly was a bit surprised it was that many. I guess I've had that account a while and it adds up! Almost all of them are oneshots, though.

2- What's your total AO3 word count?

204,091.

3- What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

They're all ATLA, which makes sense when you think about it. ATLA is probably the second-biggest fandom I've written for other than ASOIAF, but ASOIAF is so big it's sometimes hard to get noticed. That being said, when I sort by hits, three of the top five are ASOIAF so I guess more people are reading those and not liking them. It probably helps that my top-kudos ATLA fics are all Zuko-centric and he's one of the most popular ATLA characters in fic whereas I think the ASOIAF topics I focus on are perhaps a bit more niche.

tongued with fire (728 kudos)

i got soul, but i'm not a soldier (714 kudos)

cold fire (655 kudos)

we die with the dying; we are born with the dead (597)

the sword and the pen (577 kudos)

4- Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I'll respond to all comments on recently published fic (unless it's a hate comment, which I delete) and for older works I try to respond, especially if it's a substantive comment. I like to engage with readers, especially since I tend to write a lot of really niche fandoms and it's nice to connect with other fans.

5- What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

probably either another atla fic that's set right after ursa leaves zuko and azula behind or this big love fic which has an ending that is... not necessarily angsty for the narrator but super bleak in context.

6- What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I don't typically write fluffy romantic fic (I usually do more bittersweet gen focused on family relationships) but I did when I participated in the Jaime/Brienne ship exchange a few times and this bakery-themed modern AU is probably my fluffiest/happiest ending. Exchanges are kind of fun because this is very much the type of fic I would not have ever written on my own.

7- Do you write crossovers?

I have not!

8- Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes, lol. My Lannister twins genderswap fic was very controversial among a certain subset of fans who vocally disagreed with my characterization (I will sum this up as them basically believing that genderswapped Jaime would just be canon Cersei which...lol). That's the only fic I've ever got hate comments on, though I did get a really bizarre comment back in ninth grade on FF.net before I migrated to ao3 where the person enjoyed the fic but also used the comment to grandstand against abortion, a topic that in no way was mentioned in my fic. Sir This Is A Wendy's.

9- Do you write smut?

I do write sex scenes but I wouldn't describe them as smut because they're non-explicit and mostly like fade to black stuff.

10- Have you ever had a fic stolen?

YES LMFAOOOOOOOO SOMEONE TOOK A MULTICHAPTER FIC I WROTE ABOUT NINA AND OLEG FROM THE AMERICANS AND SELF-PUBLISHED IT ON AMAZON AS AN EBOOK.

11- Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think someone asked if they could translate one of my fics into another language but it was years ago and I don't remember if they did it or not or which fic it was or even which language it was.

12- Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, my first ever fic! Me and my best friend wrote it in sixth grade and it's an unfinished sequel to Ivanhoe. We never published it, though. It's really, really bad lol.

13- What's your all-time favorite ship?

Tony and Carmela Soprano. sorry. Not ship in the fandom sense but...relationship of all time. (I honestly tend to write for canon pairings that I want to build on, anyway). In the traditional sense of "wanting them to get together in canon", probably Jaime/Brienne.

14- What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I honestly don't really have a lot of published WIPs, because I tend to do oneshots and if they're not ready they're just not published. Right now I do have a two-chapter Greek mythology/Iliad retelling I wrote in high school that is absolutely never going to get updated ever, but frankly I don't feel particularly strongly about finishing that. I did have an actual multichapter WIP with the Lannister genderswap fic that I really felt bad about not working on, but I finally finished it!

15- What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good with dialogue and characterization! A lot of my fic focuses on precanon/younger versions of canon characters ("flashback fic") and I think I'm pretty good at developing backstories. Also if I may say so myself, I write decent prose.

16- What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting, which is why I tend to do shorter character-study stories. I really struggle with doing actual plotlines. (This is also a problem in my original fiction, lol. I'm always like. Okay I have these fascinating people in an interesting setting. Now what the hell are they going to do).

17- What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If it makes sense in context, like a bilingual character, sure. I do think it should probably be written so that it's clear what is going on to readers who only know the primary language of the fic, though.

18- What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Other than the aforementioned Ivanhoe sequel, it was Harry Potter.

19- What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Can't really think of anything!

20- What's your favorite fic you've written?

I'm very proud of the Lannister genderswap fic because it's probably my most significant achievement in terms of plotting, which as I mentioned is hard for me, and I'm really happy I returned to it after over a year's hiatus and finished it! I'm also really proud of this big love fic because I appreciate the effort I put into fleshing out the characters' world (including historical research) and I think it is a really good work of character study.

Tagging @when-did-this-become-difficult @ofhouseadama and anyone else who wants to do this, I can't think of many mutuals on here whose fanfiction output I'm particularly familiar with.

16 notes · View notes

metamorphosisff · 10 months

Text

|Chapter 14| The Motions

My body felt heavy as I left Dr. Mitchell’s office and reentered the damp heat of August in the city. It’s been this way ever since I have been at odds with my father. We still haven’t talked since our argument last month. I had mixed feelings about the whole ordeal. Feelings I had yet to process much to the chagrin of Dr. Mitchell, which is why he tasked me with reaching out to my mother. I have inadvertently ignored her in the midst of this and it was not fair. She did not ask to be placed in the middle of our mess. In my mind though, I automatically put her on his side. Not once considering how our actions were affecting her until Dr. Mitchell pointed it out. By the time I rode the subway, walked to my building, showered, and redressed, I knew it was time to call her.

Grabbing my phone, I plopped onto the couch where a stack of papers waited to be graded on the coffee table as soon as this conversation was over. Like always, she picked up on the second ring, her sienna face filling the camera from her perch on the kitchen island. Her glasses sat on the tip of her nose which let me know she was probably in the middle of doing work. As a personal accountant to a few executives in the finance district, she often brought home extra documents to comb through uninterrupted. We were alike in that way, always working, never quite comfortable with idle time or hands.

“Look who remembers he has a mother who is worried sick about him,” she teased, pushing her glasses further back onto her face.

Outside of a few sporadic texts which were mostly about Granddad, she hadn’t heard from me, so the barb as light as it is, was warranted. “I’m sorry about that. I just needed to clear my head.”

“And have you? It doesn’t look like it from what I can see. Have you been getting enough sleep Xavier?” she fired off, face leaning in closer as she observed me.

Ma has always had a sixth sense when it came to my moods. I don’t know how she did it but she knew when something was off with me. Usually before I even had the words to express so. There was not much I could keep a secret from her and I currently did not have the energy to try.

“I sleep but it doesn’t really help with the kind of tiredness I’m experiencing. To answer your question, no, I haven’t cleared it yet. Well, in some ways I have and in others…I don’t have the energy to,” I shrugged.

“Care to expound on that a bit?” she asked warmly. “It’s only me and your sister here, and she’s upstairs talking to her friends so you can be real with me. I’d like you to be real with me. I don’t like seeing you so out of sorts.”

Once again, Ma knew my concern without me having to verbally express it. Since she confirmed that I wouldn’t be overheard- potentially adding more fuel to the fire that flamed between Pops and I answered her question with no hesitation.

“I have come to the realization that I am never going to be good enough for Pops and I can’t force myself to be what he wants nor apparently, can I make him like me by being myself. So I think I’m done trying,” I said.

Maybe we weren’t supposed to have a close bond. Pops and I got along best when we stuck to neutral subjects like sports and Veronica’s shenanigans. Well that wasn’t entirely true. We shared a lot of the same interests and were more alike in our demeanor than either of us realized. There was a layer of something though in our foundations that made us appear to be oil and water. It appeared the moment I turned fourteen. Like a switch went off, Pops went from being my dad to my drill sergeant without any warning or notice. My first reaction to the switch was anger but over the years that has settled into what I’ve found to be is disappointment.

“Your father said something ugly in the heat of the moment but it wasn’t true. Even as he was saying it, I knew it wasn’t which is why I was shocked he told such a bold lie in an attempt to try and even the playing field with you. I had to remind him that there is no game to be won when our child is hurting. No points to be made. No puffing of the chest. Nuh uh, none of that,” she said, wagging her finger for emphasis.

Though glad that she had stood up for me, it did not change much for me. “He still said it though.”

“That he did.”

“That shit hurt. Like a lot. On top of all of the other stuff going on between us, that felt��,” I sighed, shaking my head. I was still having trouble trying to name the exact emotion that is evoked when I relive the argument. “It felt like something I don’t think I can bounce back from.”

“I can’t blame you for that. When I was around your age, my mother said something hurtful to me and I didn’t talk to her for months. Me and you are alike in that way. We need time to sit with situations and that time can range until the moment we feel like we can face it,” she said, which was true.

I didn’t know how to move past anything without over analyzing it. Especially when I was dealing with someone I loved. It was hard for me to set boundaries and even harder to enforce them but I can’t go on like this with Pops. I shouldn’t have to.

“So I’m not going to convince you to speed that process up,” she continued, pulling me from my thoughts. “All I ask is that if your father approaches you in the interim to give him a chance. You and your sister are teaching him that the world is not the same as when he was a child. Change is scary but he’s learning though it doesn’t seem like it at the moment.”

“No it doesn’t,” I sighed out, squeezing the bridge of my own. “Pops always said a man stands on his word. So I’m taking his words for face value at the moment and if he is changing, then he’ll stand on that too, and we’ll be able to see it. Until then I’m going to keep my distance.”

Nodding her head, she said, “Like I said, I understand baby I do. That’s my piece on that. So let’s talk about this new girlfriend.”

A laugh escaped my lips as I shook my head. “She’s not my girlfriend Ma’.”

She was close though. So close to being everything. The thought both scared and excited me because it was new. I never had a woman fit so intrinsically into my life or heart. There were days I questioned if she was real because how had I been so lucky? Mila was my better half in every way that it mattered and in every way that it didn’t. What we had was rare.

“Not yet but soon by the way you're blushing over there. I can’t wait to meet her. You’ll excuse me if I say, I hope she’s nothing like that high string Miss Thing you were last with,” she said, refusing to say Mariah’s name.

I shook my head. “Nah, she is the complete opposite, trust me.”

“Let me refill this wine glass and then I want to hear all about her!” she says with a silly smile that makes me chuckle.

As she gets up to head to the refrigerator, I make a mental note to check in on her more often. I may be at odds with Pops but Ma’ has always been one of my best friends.

Having enough of my “bitch ass moping”, Aiden said he was taking me some place to get my mind off of things. Knowing that was code for hellish workout, I dressed ready for the gym, and called an Uber for the Williamsburg address he sent me. I could have taken the train but my attitude wasn’t ‘take the train’ ready. This past week I have not been able to distract myself enough from the issues with my father. The minor incident I had with Granddad the other night had only worsened my mood as he overheard me on the phone with his doctors and launched into a two hour lecture on how he didn’t need any more check ups or anybody meddling in his affairs. Whatever Aiden had up his sleeve, I hoped it was enough to tire me out to the point where I’ll be too exhausted to overthink.

It only took me thirty minutes to pull up to what seemed to be a converted warehouse. Converted to what remained to be the question. I could not tell by the crowd filtering in and out of the large building that sat on a dead end street across from another converted warehouse that was used for indoor paintball. It took a few seconds but eventually I spotted both Aiden and Rah standing not too far from the entrance.

“Ayo,” I called out, catching both of their attention as I strolled up. “What is this place?”

Rah snickered and shook his head. “Let me pull my camera up. This is about to be good,” he says in lieu of greeting and answering the question.

I turn my gaze to a mischievous looking Aiden. “What exactly does he mean by that?”

“You know he's just dramatic,” Aiden says with a wave of his hand. “But to answer your question, remember when we talked about participating in amateur boxing matches?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose already knowing where this was headed. “Vaguely.”

“Great so you do remember. Anyway I signed you up and you're slotted to fight in an hour. I got everything with me so don’t even trip,” Aiden said.

“You signed me up for a boxing match and didn’t think it would be a good idea to give me more than five seconds notice?” I asked, with a raised brow.

“Yes. We haven’t been in the gym doing drills for nothing. Now, let's go,” Aiden said, walking towards the door.

I stared at his back incredulously as Rah zoomed in on my face. “I hope all that practice wasn’t for nothing,” Rah laughs.

“After I win this fight, I’m beating both of y’all asses. Both,” I said, pushing his phone out of my face so that I could follow behind Aiden.

“Not it’s fuck 50,” Rah cracked beside me.

“It definitely is. You know this is wild,” I said with a shake of my head.

“Eh it’s better than what he initially planned. I was able to talk him down to this,” Rah said with a shrug.

“That is…oddly comforting.”

“I thought it might be.”

In the hour before the fight, we are placed into a small room with just enough space for me to change into shorts and my shoes. Aiden wraps my hands and leads me through a few warm ups that gets my blood pumping. There’s a sharp knock on the door followed by a deep voice shouting, “We need Taylor upstairs in five!”

“We're leaving right now,” Aiden yelled back before turning to face me. “You got this shit bro. Use all that anger you keep inside, let that shit out, and win some money in the process.”

“Money? Is this legal?” I asked.

“Legal-ish.”

I don’t have time to curse Aiden out because we’re being called again and the man magically sounds even less impatient than he did thirty seconds ago. Within the next few minutes I’m ushered upstairs where a boxing ring has been set up in the middle. The crowd is thick in attendance and the workers have to lead us ring side as a Meek Mill song blasts from above. My opponent is reaching the ring the same time as me and I instantly start picking out our differences. I take note of his height and build, which hand he uses while he talks, and how he shuffles his feet in constant motion. This is supposed to be an amateur fight but it’s clear to me that he is a bit seasoned.

“Don’t let that nigga’s size fool you into think he’s better,” Rah says, appearing out of nowhere with a towel draped over his shoulder. Apparently while we had been downstairs, he had been up here getting the corner ready with supplies. “His name is Chris but he is known as C Knock-Out. That changes tonight.”

“Rah right. Niggas his sized get beat up everyday. This just another day,” Aiden said.

“Got it,” I said as he popped in my mouth guard.

There wasn’t time for any more conversation because things were underway with the flashing of the lights. In what seemed like instantly, we were given the rules and expectations of the match. There would only be three, two minute rounds and any dirty moves would result in points being taken away or automatic forfeit. After that we were touching gloves and a bell was sounded.

Chris wasted no time in charging at me, his style of fighting was aggressive but his movements were clumsy. I was able to tire him out in the first round but it cost me a few body shots. We’re both feeling each other out because my hits are surprising him with how close they land to his face. To his ribs. The last jab I send to the latter area wakes him up. I can see the moment he realizes this won’t be an easy fight and he locks in. I spent the last twenty seconds of the second round dodging a flurry of punches, two of which connect to my jaw and send my head snapping back. I duck the follow up punch with just enough time before the bell us rung again sending us back to our corners.

Aiden is pulling out my mouth piece and I’m not surprised to see it filled with blood. Rah gives me water which I use to rinse my mouth out some.

“He mad now. He getting sloppy. He gon’ give you a window of opportunity, use that shit big dawg,” Aiden coaches, slapping my shoulder.

Rah tossed me a look.

“What?”

“Stop holding back your punches. Rock that nigga.”

I nod my head and with that, I’m ready to go back out.

Like the two times before, Chris charges at me but isn’t prepared for me to charge back. We met in the middle and instantly began to search for openings. He lands a punch to my arm that sends me a few steps back.

“You know I’m putting that ass to sleep right?” Chris taunts.

“We’ll see about that.”

He starts sending punches to my ribs again and one of them causes me to bite back a groan. The muffled sound I do make is enough for him to sense a weakness. He continues his onslaught of punches but I don’t make it easy as I take him around the ring. I’m quicker on my feet than he is, something that he has yet to take notice of. He relies on his arms being longer so much that it has become a disadvantage. The moment he rushes to close the gap between us I send a right hook to his jaw and follow it up with my left. The shock of the punches causes him to stumble and that gives me the leverage to continue my assault. Like instructed, I use all of the anger that has been flowing in the undercurrent of my being behind my punches. Every stressful conversation, argument, and lost memory pours out of me until the bell rings and we’re being separated. I don’t knock him out but by the end of this final round only one of us is leaning and it isn’t me.

It doesn’t register to me that I won until Aiden picks me up. The crowd is cheering and the energy is electric. Chris and I slap hands, him with a promise to see me again but he won’t. As much fun as this was, I think I prefer using boxing a method to clear my head, not as my livelihood. I didn’t need to take a spot from someone who really wanted this life. All I wanted was a distraction and Aiden, as backwards as his methods are, came through. I don’t know if it’s from winning or burning off some of the dark energy I had been carrying around but I feel lighter.

I’m riding this high as I go downstairs to change into my regular clothes. I have a busted lip and what I’m sure are fractured ribs but I feel amazing. Until I get around to checking my phone that is. My screen is filled with notifications and when I unlock it, I have five missed calls and thirty six texts.

All from Mila.

#metamorphasisff #black romance #Black Fiction #slow burn romance

42 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 2 years

Text

Baby Hagan - Steve Harrington

Request: If you feel inspired to write for steve harrington I'd like to request something for him. Miss st so much and fanfiction is my only salvation lol // Request: What about hagan!reader? (I think that's Tommy's last name if i remember correctly). Reader always had a crush on steve, but she only got to really know him after his friendship with her brother ended. And like tommy is just a shitty brother overall

A/N: I feel like this whole fic is me going off on tangents or something but I sincerely hope that you like it!

Stranger Things Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You could remember, clear as day, the first time you knew that you were madly in love with Steve Harrington. It was the first day of sixth grade and you were finally in middle school. It felt a little surreal but you’d been planning since August. Outfit laid out on the bed, backpack ready with all the essentials, shoes picked out, hair style perfected. Your mom had even caved and agreed to let you were cherry lipgloss to school. All in all, it was a fresh start, even if you’d just be going to school with all the same kids you’d been going to school with for the last six years.

But a fatal snag in your plan had almost ruined the best first school day you could ever have. It was just after the warning bell went off in the hallway, three minutes to homeroom and you were trying desperately to get your locker combination to work. Your stomach had been in knots all morning but you chalked it up to nerves, anyone would be nauseous on their first day. But just as your locker swung open you felt someone push up behind you, a jean jacket tying around your waist and your brother’s best friend squeezing your sides gently as he let go of you again.

“Steve, hi…what, uh, what are you doing?” You looked at the jacket in confusion, turning to face him. Just beyond his shoulder, your brother stood on the other side of the hallway, laughing. “What’s the matter?”

“Walk with me to the nurse?” Steve asked, nodding his head back toward the lobby and the nurses office.

The confusion that had been on your face a moment ago slowly disappeared as you felt your stomach lurch again, the discomfort clear to you now. It was the first day of sixth grade and you had gotten your period for the first time. “Oh my god…oh my god, oh my-“

“It’s okay,” Steve reassured, putting his arm around your shoulder as the final bell rang, “let’s go.”

Steve guided you to the nurse’s office, away from Tommy who hadn’t stopped laughing even as he headed to class. The jacket was unharmed, thankfully, and when the nurse came in to ask what happened Steve took as his cue to leave, though he left the jacket for you. The moment, though embarrassing, romanticised itself in your head. Steve Harrington, super cool even in seventh grade, had rescued you from total ostracism on the very first day of school like the hero knight he was. It was later that night while you were laying in bed, staring at his jacket on the bedpost, dreaming of the valiant rescue, that he stopped being your brother’s best friend and started being your crush.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that baby Hagan having some premium Milwaukee booze?” Steve’s voice cut through the late night silence of the grocery store parking lot and you looked up from the six pack of beer that was sitting beside you on the trunk of your car to where he was standing. The Shop’n’Bag was officially closed though the lights in the parking lot were still on. It was overcast, a little eerie, the moon was hidden behind clouds and you were trying to drown your sour mood in beer before you’d have to go home and torture your ears with the sound of Tommy and Carol making out all night long.

“Would you like to partake?” You asked, pulling a can from the plastic holder and extending it to him. It’d been a while since Steve and Tommy actually hung out. Senior year, they’d dissolved their friendship over your brother’s bizarre need to kiss Billy Hargrove’s ass and Steve’s realization that your brother was arguably the worst person on earth, but you kind of missed Harrington.

Steve took the beer, popping the can and then climbing up next to you on the trunk. The now-four pack of beer scraped against the paint as it was pushed back but you didn’t pay it any mind, taking another sip from your can. “So, what’s got you out here at night?” Steve asked looking over and meeting your eyes in the dim light of the parking lot.

“Shitty date, what else?” You grumbled. As much as you imagined some alternate universe in which Steve would find out that you went on a date and suddenly realize his undying love for you, it hadn’t happened yet. “Is every basketball player in Hawkins a massive asshole?”

“Hey,” Steve looked mildly offended, “I used to be a basketball player!”

“Yeah? You also used to be a massive asshole.” You laughed, “you know I’ve known you like, all my life Steve? I remember what a dick you could be when you were friends with Tommy.”

He grimaced around another sip of beer, you had a point, he couldn’t deny that. “Point taken. I’m not now though...we should hang out more often, I’ll prove it to you.”

“How are you gonna prove to me that you’re not a dick? Like, help an old lady across the street or something?” You teased.

“I have plenty of character references.” He replied, taking a sip of his beer and side-eyeing you.

“Like...I’m gonna need written statements Harrington.”

“Dustin-”

“Henderson? That kid is a dick too!” You laughed, laying back against the window of the car, “I used to baby sit him in eighth grade. Unless you’ve got Will Byers vouching for you, none of the brat pack are gonna suffice.”

“Okay, okay...Robin Buckley.” Steve replied, “and Nancy will tell you too. I’m fully reformed. Besides, you know I’m not a dick.”

You smiled, “yeah, I know, I just like pushing your buttons. Besides, Tommy’s not around to bust my ass for not ‘being nice’ to you. And I might be a teeny, tiny, bit drunk.” You said, holding your forefinger and thumb close together to signify how little you’d had. In actuality it was a bit more than that, you’d gone through two tall cans before Steve had come up.

“Yeah, let's take these and get you home,” Steve slid off the trunk of the car and took the remaining four cans, opening the backdoor to put them in under the seat. You were still laying back against the car, watching him as he shut the door and came back over to you. “Keys?”

“I can drive.” You promised, holding up the keys to your car as if you were showing them off to him, the little disco ball Vicky had bought you as a birthday present glittering in the light.

“I would feel better if I did.” He insisted, taking the keys with little resistance.

You slide all the way off the car and stood up once your feet hit the ground. “We should hang out more.” You announced, going around to the passenger side of the car. “I mean, you and Tommy aren’t friends, so we should be.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Steve replied, waving his arms at you. “You’re the one who told me I was an asshole.”

“I said all basketball players are assholes and you used to be a basketball player so...yeah. Whatever that conclusion was.” You said. You slumped in your seat, putting your feet up on the dash and staring out the window as Steve pulled out of the parking lot. Hawkins was pretty much dead at this point, everyone off the streets and home. The streetlamps felt dimmer than usual as Steve drove the familiar roads back to your house.

Steve had spent almost every day from the moment he got his license until the falling out with Tommy driving the road from his house to yours. He could probably drive it blindfolded if he had to. It felt like just yesterday that he was driving to hang out with Tommy and Carol at your house, pulling into the carport behind your mom’s station wagon.

“You know, I miss you coming over.” You mentioned, mirroring Steve’s thoughts as he parked the car.

“Even though I’m an asshole?” He joked. Steve pushed the driver’s side door open and then came around to your side, opening it for you and helping you out.

“Tommy’s a bigger asshole.” You replied, letting him help you stand up, “at least when you were around, he didn’t bother me so much.”

Since Steve still had your keys, he flipped through the keychain, finding the one to your house and unlocking the front door for you to go in first. He handed the keys back over and hung in the doorway, the screen door against his back. “So...my car is back at the Shop’n’Bag...”

“Do you wanna come in Steve?” You asked, rolling your eyes at him as you stepped aside to make room for him to walk passed you.

“I mean, if you insist.” He teased, walking into the living room.

You weren’t sure if you actually did more than pass out on the couch after that. When you woke up in the morning you knew you were dressed in your pajamas and you vaguely remembered changing before carrying blankets and pillows into the den for Steve. When he suggested watching a movie you agreed, putting on Fast Times at Ridgemont High and taking one of the blankets you’d brought for him.

By the time you woke up, you could hear your mom in the kitchen making breakfast, the smell of coffee already emanating through the first floor of the house. Steve groaned, stretching his arms above his head from the awkward angle of half-sitting while sleeping.

“Your mom still burns coffee.” He whispered, grimacing as he met your eyes.

After that, it felt like Steve was at your house all the time. If he wasn’t working or hanging out with Robin (or even when he was hanging out with Robin), he’d show up at your house. He was more than positive that it would be weird, coming over again when he wasn’t friends with Tommy anymore, and he was surprised that it wasn’t. There were a couple run ins with your brother but not too many and he didn’t really find himself caring either.

Instead, he found himself actually enjoying spending time with you. So much so that Robin would tease him about his ‘girlfriend’ when you weren’t around and ask when he was going to “grow a pair and ask you out” as if it was that simple.

“Finesse Robin, this takes finesse.”

“Finesse?” She almost choked on her soda as she looked over the counter at him. He was sorting new VHS tapes on the endcap and she was stealing the fries she promised to leave for him, “what’d you buy a dictionary over the weekend?”

“Haha, very funny.” He mocked, “all I’m saying is, I’ve known her like...most of my life. I can’t just walk up to someone who probably thinks of me the same way she thinks of her brother and profess my feelings.”

“Okay, first of all...if she thinks of Tommy the way I know she thinks of you...I’d be seriously worried about her. And second of all, just tell her. God, why do you people draw everything out like this? You think if I could just walk up to Vickie and tell her I liked her I’d be sitting here mulling over her day in and day out? No way! I’d be tongue deep-”

“Nope! No. Thank you, moving on.” Steve snapped, his whole face turning red, “Like I was saying, I need something more compelling.”

“More compelling than telling her you have a massive crush on her that you never had before because you were too busy being an asshole to realize what an awesome person she was?”

Steve glared at her, “you know you really put things in perspective for me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah...I need new friends.”

The peptalk from Robin didn’t get any more helpful as the weeks turned into months and neither did his own peptalks, usually consisting of some sort empowerment speech in front of his mirror in the morning. It always felt promising but then he’d roll up to your house and you’d walk out and all the things he’d practiced saying to his reflection would die on his tongue. How was he supposed to do this?

It was embarrassing, if he really thought about it too long. The more time he spent with you, the more time he wanted to spend with you and the more he felt himself getting tongue-tied and flustered and all the things that Steve Harrington did not get. Especially not around Tommy Hagan’s little sister. He’d known you since you were five, he had memories stacked like books in his head of all the times you’d even remotely embarrassed yourself in his presence and yet, somehow, he couldn’t conjure up the image of you doing a single embarrassing thing ever.

Instead, on pizza nights when the two of you (or three because even when he specifically told Robin not to show up she was somehow already at your house, claiming she wanted to see Steve embarrass himself) hung out, it was like everything you did was endearing.

“Why are you staring at me?” You’re voice broke him out of his thoughts and brought him back down to earth, looking over at you from where you were sitting on the other side of the couch. How was it that Robin managed to be sitting between the two of you?

“What?”

“You’re like hardcore staring at me eating this slice of pizza.” You replied. You knew he wasn’t staring at Robin, simply because she was slumped against the cushions, practically molding into them as she stared at Jodi Foster with wide eyes.

“I was just...wondering if the pepperoni was any good?” It came out sounding more like a question than a statement, the whole sentence clunky and awkward anyway. What was he even talking about.

You looked skeptical as you appraised him, eyebrow arched in question and frown on your face, “well you ate like three pieces of pepperoni so...guess that’s your answer?”

“Right, right.” He nodded, quickly turning back to the tv. God, what was this movie about? He’d gotten it because you’d said it was a favorite of yours and for the life of him he couldn’t even remember what he was suppose to be watching. “So...this guy like, drives a taxi?”

“I mean, yeah. That’s the basic like...concept I guess?” You replied, almost laughing, “are you not paying attention?”

“Can we all stop talking?” Robin asked, sitting up further in her seat, “I’m trying to enjoy this movie and you’re both yapping at each other.”

“He was staring at me!”

“I was staring at the pizza!”

“That’s weird! Why are you being weird?” You pushed.

“I’m not being weird!”

Robin leaned forward, grabbing the remote off the coffee table and pausing the VHS, slumping back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. There was no use trying to enjoy the movie now.

“Oh my god, Steve, you’re being super weird. We’ve known each other forever, literally. I mean, you walked me to the nurse the first time I got my period. If that wasn’t weird for you, I don’t know why you’re being weird now.” You replied, insistent on the matter. You knew he was acting strange, he had been for a while now. The more the two of you hung out the weirder he was with you.

“Note to self, revisit that story.” Robin muttered under her breath as she grabbed the pizza box and headed into the hallway and up the stairs to your room. She’d wait this out with some slices of pepperoni while you and Steve decided whether or not now was the right time to tell each other you were both majorly crushing on the other.

“I’m not being weird.” He said, running a hand through his hair and then shaking it out, “I just...and I mean in school I was...and now...and you’re, you know. You know.”

“I literally don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Steve groaned, exasperated by the conversation and his inability to get his point across and the fact that he knew he was being weird. He was so painfully aware of it and he tried so hard not to be weird every day and it just never worked.

“Listen,” he stood up, moving to stand in front of the television with his hands on his hips, looking more like your mother about to reprimand you and less like someone professing their undying love. “Listen,” he repeated, “I like you. A lot. And that’s weird for me okay. I mean, Steve Harrington,” he pointed to himself, “I was like...in highschool you know...and now. I mean, what, I work at the video store and I’m friends with a freshman and Robin?”

“Hey!” Robin shouted from the top of the steps, “you are lucky to be friends with me!”

“Sorry, I’m trying to do a thing here!” He shouted back.

“Not very well?” You laughed.

Steve turned back to look at you, “look I’m just trying to tell you I want to date you.” It didn’t use to be this hard, was what he wanted to say. He used to know how to do this, how to flirt and ask girls out and have them practically swooning over every word. Was it Nancy that broke him? Or the upside down? Or Billy stealing his top spot? Or everything bundled up into one?

“So tell me you like me.”

“What?”

“If you like me so much, why don’t you just tell me.” You replied, “just because I think you used to be an asshole doesn’t mean I don’t like you. And just because we’re friends and I’m not swooning over your every word doesn’t mean I don’t like you either. I like you, a lot. I have since sixth grade Steve.”

“Seriously?” He felt surprised, he was sure he looked surprised. Whether it was just because you actually reciprocated the feelings he’d been agonising over telling you about or because you’d been harboring a secret crush on him this whole time, “so, you’ve liked me for like, years?” He asked, a smirk slowly washing away his nerves.

“Oh my god,” you fell back against the couch cushions, grabbing a pillow to toss at him, “you are such an asshole!”

“I’m just trying to get the facts straight here.”

“You know what, I liked you more when you were watching me eat pizza like a creep.”

#steve harrington imagine #Steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve Harrington x you #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington fluff #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #collecting stories imagine

265 notes · View notes