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cheesiedomino · 2 months

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Second chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

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livwritesstuff · 18 days

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Tommy POV, wc: 2890, full version on ao3

Tommy Hagan is not jealous of Eddie Munson.

He’s not.

There’s nothing to be jealous of, in his opinion, and Tommy probably wouldn’t be thinking about him at all if Eddie wasn’t the most publicly well known member of his graduating class – well, he hadn’t actually been in his graduating class, Tommy supposes.

They had been seniors at the same time, though.

If Tommy happened to be jealous of anything – and that’s a big if – it would probably have something to do with the famous thing. Everyone has a small part of them that wants to be famous at least in some capacity, he’s pretty sure, even if Eddie isn’t really, truly famous – not like the red carpet celebrities. He’s a writer. Even the most well known writers never get all that much attention, but Munson has his own Wikipedia page, and that’s more than anybody else from Hawkins, Indiana can say. Hawkins itself barely even has a Wikipedia page, and it’s only because of all the atrocities that happened in town in the mid-eighties.

Tommy hadn’t been around for the end of it all – the earthquake-slash-serial killer situation that never made any sense to him. He remembers his mom calling him at his college dorm when the deaths first started. He remembers her asking, “You went to school with that Munson boy, right? Do you think he could do something like this?”

And Tommy had been twenty and a total moron, so he’d said some dumb shit like, “Yeah, he’s into freaky stuff like that. Somebody should’ve put him on a list ages ago,” even though four years of experience told him that Eddie was all bark, no bite. Tommy hadn’t been surprised at all by the statements that later came out clearing Eddie's name, and by then his parents had already high-tailed it out of Hawkins so it all sort of became irrelevant to him.

Tommy never even returned to Hawkins one single time after he left for college (barring his high school reunion, obviously), and twenty years after graduation, he doesn’t really think about those years all that much.

He doesn’t love the person he’d been in high school. He was whiny and immature and had his priorities all messed up. Most of the memories he has of his teenage years, he looks back at and cringes, feels a whole lot of shame and embarrassment, but also some pride at how much he’s grown over the last twenty years. He also knows he’d been kind of a dick in high school, but that he’s less ashamed of. It’s normal, he knows, for kids to be mean, that it’s a standard response to being untreated kindly in other ways. Like, his dad had been an asshole to him as a kid, always on him about his grades and his smart mouth and how he’d no longer been a standout on any of his sports teams after starting high school, and Tommy had coped with that by poking kids beneath him at school.

It’s just the pecking order of high school. It’s normal.

Even now, when Tommy’s son had dealt with some pricks in the year above him shoving him around, he had come home from school and tormented his little sister for a while – it’s normal, no matter how much his wife had tried to convince him it was something that needed addressing. It’s just kids being kids. They grow out of it eventually, just like Tommy had.

Occasionally he wonders where the kids he’d spent all those years with in the Hawkins public school system had ended up, but these days the internet makes that pretty damn easy to figure out.

He’s learned Tina got married and had kids real young. She still lives in Indiana. Carol, who he’d split up with before heading off to college, lives in Alabama now and she’s got kids and a husband too. Jonathan Byers is a photographer in California – Tommy isn’t into all that art-y crap, so he has no clue if he’s any good, but he definitely recognizes some of the organizations he’s worked for and if that’s any indication, Tommy would wager he’s not too shabby. No wife, though, he noted, so he’d either been right about Byer’s being a queer, or women just found him repulsive (admittedly, Tommy leans more towards the former – he’s a photographer). Tammy Thompson still lives in Tennessee, though it doesn’t seem like she does music anymore (husband, kids, blah blah blah).

If he’s honest, the only person Tommy is actually interested in tracking down is Steve Harrington, and he’s the one person Tommy can’t find a single trace of online. No MySpace, no Facebook, no weird blog thing, nothing.

Vaguely, he wonders if Steve might be dead. A truly massive proportion of Hawkins had died over just a few short years in the mid-eighties. Maybe Harrington was one of them.

Tommy doubts it.

He would have known.

Steve’s parents would have made sure everyone knew if their son had died. Funnily enough, Steve’s mom is actually on Facebook, and pretty actively too, but there’s no sign of Steve anywhere on her page.

He hadn’t even shown up for their high school reunion in the winter of ‘04, which is odd because Tommy had been certain he would.

He doesn’t obsess over it – he really doesn’t. It’s just a thought that pops into his mind every now and then – where the hell is Steve Harrington?

In the late spring of 2007, he gets his answer.

“Tom,” his wife says, “That guy from your high school is on the cover of this magazine.”

He knows without asking for clarity that it’s Munson – no other person makes sense – and when he eventually gets his hands on the magazine, he finds that he’s correct.

Eddie Munson is on the cover of a magazine because, apparently, he published another book.

Truthfully, Tommy already knew that.

It’s his fourth book (which, for the record, Tommy hadn’t known until he knew it because it’s not like he’s keeping tabs on this guy or whatever), and it’s been getting a whole bunch of mainstream attention after a controversial landing on the top of all those book charts Tommy doesn’t follow despite featuring a gay love store amidst all his normal fantasy crap. It sparked a whole debate about banning books and everything (dumb, Tommy knows, because if he learned anything in business school it’s that if you really don’t want something to exist, the best thing you can do is not funnel money and attention into it).

Tommy does, in fact, watch the news so he’d already caught wind of all this – it’s part of the reason he can’t shake the guy – and it’s why Eddie Munson is on the cover of this magazine (because, seriously, nobody gives a shit about writers until it hits the news).

He allows himself a moment to look at the cover, to look at Eddie, who apparently goes by Ed now. Tommy is loath to admit it, but he looks good. His hair is normal and he’s grown into his frame, not all long and lanky and gangly limbs like Tommy remembers from school. He looks well-fed, confident, happy.

He looks good.

Tommy thumbs through the first few pages of the magazine until he reaches Eddie’s interview, and, again, he allows himself to look over the photo of him that takes up nearly three-quarters of the first page even if he has no intention of actually reading the article itself because, again, Eddie looks good (and maybe there’s something about the scruff of facial hair along his jaw that Tommy's eye gets stuck on). Tommy’s allowed to say that men look good when it’s true – it’s 2007, as his wife likes to remind him whenever it’s convenient for her, and if she’s allowed to say that Angelina Jolie looked good in that CIA movie, then Tommy is allowed to say that Eddie Munson looks good here.

When Tommy flips to the next page, he’s met with a photo that stops him in his tracks, has his feet frozen to the floor because –

Jesus Christ, that’s Steve Harrington.

Fuck, okay, so he’s reading this fucking article.

It takes Tommy a long time to get through it, honestly. Eddie comes out in the article, which might be a big deal, might not (and he doesn't care to be enlightened, thanks). He keeps getting distracted by the pictures scattered throughout it.

The pictures of Steve, mostly.

Because, well, if Eddie Munson looks good, Steve…

Steve looks alive.

Tommy didn’t realize it until this exact moment, but Steve had existed in his head for the last two decades as the eighteen-year-old he’d been the last time they were in the same room together. It hadn’t exactly occurred to him that Steve’s been aging this whole time too, just like Tommy has.

It’s undeniable that Steve is older.

His hair is starting to go gray at his temples (it’s the only thing that’s changed about his hair since he’s still styling it the same as he did in high school – because why mess with a good thing, Tommy supposes) and he’s got just the hint of crow's feet around his eyes when he smiles. He’s smiling in all the photos – every damn one – and it has Tommy struck by how unbelievably happy Steve seems. It’s an effect that somehow both takes years off the age Tommy knows he is and shines a light on just how good those years must have been for him.

There’s no solo shots of him like there are for Munson – though according to the article, it's actually Harrington now – and only half the photos are in color. The rest of them – the more candid ones – are smaller and left in black-and-white.

The one that caught Tommy’s eye first – because it was meant to, he’s pretty sure; it takes up half the page – is right in that sweet spot between staged and candid where Steve and Eddie both know that they’re being photographed even though neither of them are actually posing. Eddie is grinning at Steve in a wicked way that still feels familiar to Tommy even two decades since he’d last seen it on him (probably swaggering around the cafeteria like a total jackass – not that Tommy would know anything about that). Steve is grinning right back at him with a smile Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

Or maybe he has, but not on this version of his face, not since Steve was as young as his oldest daughter.

Just as the author of the article said, the photos don’t show the faces of Steve’s children, either leaving them artfully out-of-focus or choosing shots where they’re turned away from the camera, but they’re still present, and it makes the whole spread almost feel like a photo album in a way, like it should be private but instead was published for the whole world to see.

Steve has three of them – kids, Tommy means. He didn’t know that Steve was a family kind of guy. It makes sense though, when he thinks about it. Steve’s parents were kind of a nightmare — present in the worst ways, and absent in the worst ways too (though it hadn’t seemed that way when Tommy was a teenager looking for a failsafe party house). He'd always felt kind of bad for the guy. Like, Tommy's dad had been a total piece of work, but they'd at least been around, and he'd stuck around long enough for them to sort out their issues at least most of the way, and these days he's a pretty kickass grandpa to Tommy's children.

Tommy wonders about Steve's parents now, wonders if they maybe came around like his own parents had, but then he remembers Mrs. Harrington's Facebook page and how there's not a damn trace of her son on there, never mind three grandchildren.

Tommy isn't sure he wants to touch that.

Steve is probably a really good dad, Tommy decides. He’d been kind of that way when they were friends — Steve used to say he wasn’t all that bright, but he always had a freaky sixth sense for reading people, for caring about them in exactly the way they needed.

There's one photo where Steve is managing to holding his youngest daughter — a tiny little baby still — and her bottle in one arm (that's a level-three dad hold, Tommy knows). The bottle is angled in a way that obscures her face, and Steve's other hand is being tugged on by another daughter, this one with a mop of curly brown hair remarkably similar to Eddie's when it was still long.

That's another thing Tommy won't let himself think about, (because he knows if did he'd start wondering if any of those kids were half-Steve).

Anyways, Tommy doesn't need glance to see that Steve wears fatherhood like a favorite sweater.

There’s something about this, about seeing these pictures, about the way Tommy is getting an answer to that question he’s had for years about where his childhood best friend has been all these years, that is making him feel like his ribcage is being split open, bones splintering and shattering as everything vulnerable inside his chest in suddenly out for display.

He probably should feel uncomfortable, right? Like, a guy he’d been seriously close to growing up — sleepovers and gym locker rooms and all that shit — had turned out to be gay. If his own son came home from school saying that his best friend came out or whatever as gay…well, again, it’s 2007, and Tommy doesn’t think his wife would allow him to denounce the friendship entirely, but there certainly wouldn’t be any sleepovers anymore. He thinks that’s pretty reasonable.

What was the likelihood that Steve had been, like, into Tommy?

And that should be an uncomfortable notion too, and in a sense, it kind of is, but not necessarily in the way he would expect.

He just doesn’t understand why all this feels so much like a loss because he knows that he hasn’t really lost anything – not since he got his hands on the magazine, anyways. Steve Harrington hasn’t played any sort of role in Tommy’s life since their final falling out in 1984, and as far as he’s aware, having a falling out with a close friend is pretty much a guaranteed part of growing up. His wife even experienced something similar when her own grade school best friend suddenly stopped answering calls and stopped reaching out after they’d started college – and his wife is basically the nicest person Tommy has ever known, so…it happens to even the best.

It’s just…Steve had always continued to exist in Tommy’s life in a way, even if he wasn't physically present, and maybe Tommy had figured it could be the same for Steve too, that maybe he sometimes wonders where Tommy is, wonders what he’s up to.

This article and these photos makes it pretty fucking clear that Tommy doesn’t even exist in the same galaxy as the life Steve is living.

And that’s not to mention the Eddie fucking Munson of it all.

Tommy had been kind of ignoring the Eddie of it all until he couldn’t ignore it anymore, because he doesn't care about Eddie Munson.

He'd never cared, but he'd spent years seeing the guy's face and his name everywhere, and now it feels like a sick joke, like he's the piece of Steve left in Tommy's life.

If the article is accurate (and he has no reason to believe it isn’t), Steve and Eddie have been together for longer than Tommy has even known his wife. Steve has been with Eddie for longer than Steve was ever friends with Tommy – not by a lot, but still more. That’s a long fucking time, and it’s clear as day on both of their faces that they’re just as in love with each other fourteen years in as they were on day one.

It’s not just Steve, and it’s not just Eddie, and it’s not one more than the other. It’s both of them.

There’s one photo in particular – a small black-and-white one that keeps pulling Tommy’s attention.

It’s another candid shot, taken from a bit of a distance. In it, Steve has Eddie boxed in against the counter in what has to be their kitchen. Eddie is leaning back against the edge of the granite countertop and looking at Steve with something sappy and fond on his face, and Steve’s hands are this close to grabbing Eddie’s waist as he looks at him the exact same way.

It’s shit out of a fairy tale or something, and sure, maybe someone could argue that they’re laying it on thick just for the sake of the magazine or whatever, but Tommy knows Steve Harrington and that look on his face is more real than Tommy had ever seen in all the years he'd known him.

So maybe Tommy has a reason or two (or three or four) to be jealous of Eddie Munson.

#unreliable narrator!tommy hagan my beloved #the ao3 version has the interview btw #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #tommy hagan

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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

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Miguel O'Hara parenting head canons

I randomly thought of this and thought it would be fun as a new young mom myself to make this list. These are just things I pulled from my brain of what I imagine he'd be like as a parent. Reader is his s/o.

TW: minors DNI, slightly suggestive, breeding, child free, infertility, parenting, childbirth

----------

Pt 2 as well:

-His kids come first over everything. In the universe where he's a single dad to Gabi he definitely takes a longggg time before introducing anyone he's dating to Gabi. He wouldn't introduce them to her unless he's 10000% committed and sees a future with them.

-One of the best ways to crack through his rough exterior or grumpy moods is to ask him about his kids. Especially if you have kids of your own, start talking about them and he'll slowly forget what he's doing and listen/calm down (proof: when Peter brings Mayday to work) and when it comes to talking about his own kids he'll rattle on and on.

-He goes the extra mile on Christmas for Gabi. He's normally cheap/frugal asf but not on Christmas. Gets her a stocking and buys so much stuff it barely fits in the stocking.

-Gabi loves stuffed animals. Her bed is like piled high with squishables and squashmallows. Miguel knows each one's name.

-If you don't want kids/child free or can't, no problem. As long as you love Gabi as much as he does Miguel doesn't have issues. He still loves you & you two still share a lasting love based around love of travel and adventure and he's extremely sensitive to your feelings. (Aka he nearly fought your aunt at Thanksgiving for asking when you two are going to have kids)

-if you have kids already/want kids ooooh he's trying to get you pregnant yesterday. And he absolutely adores your kids as much as his own. He never uses the word "step," when describing his step kids. He's a little intimidating at pick up but he's civil with your ex, mostly for your sake. He loves the family life with you and is on board for whatever fun craft night/family game night/movie night ideas you have. He supports you if you have a career or if you want to stay home with the kids he is behind you 100%.

-He definitely does not have McDonald's money. (We have food at home)

-He believes in the theory of Gentle parenting but has a hard time applying it. (catches himself being kind of hard on the kids but he's determined to break the cycle and be the father he never had, always apologizes to the kids)

-He thinks Disneyland is way overpriced and over hyped but he loves going purely for yours and Gabi's reaction to the magic. He carries Gabi on his shoulders and carries her in his arms when she naps after a long day at Disney when you head back to the hotel.

-He does tea parties/plays dolls with Gabi 1000% but he forgets to stay in character when playing with dolls and Gabi has to remind him to use his girly voice.

-learned how to do hairstyles for Gabi and always braids her hair/does ponytails for her soccer games. He's a bit of a perfectionist at it and has made them late for games in the past because he wants to get it right.

-If you want kids, you want like 2 or 3 max and he goes along with whatever you want because it's your body your choice, but if it was up to him he'd want like 5 or 6.

-He definitely gets a little too carried away at the kid's sports games and got into an argument with the ref at Gabi's soccer game once, but after you had a stern talking to him now he just mutters under his breath after every call.

- He's at every single doctor's appointment and asks the pediatrician way too many questions.

- He loves taking Gabi and the kids trick or treating on Halloween while you stay warm at home with the younger kids/babies. He definitely dresses up in a scary costume and sits on the porch really still like a statue and scares the kids.

- He completely misses the fact that all the moms at soccer practice and school pick up are flirting with him.

-When the kids are sick he's the first one to offer to call off work to stay home. If you don't work then he'll take a sick day to be with you and the kids.

- he's actually a really good cook, but when it comes to packing the kids lunches he's more of a simple man (pb& j or turkey sandwich with carrot sticks, goldfish, and milk) whereas you go all out with the star shaped fruit, cutting the crust off the sandwiches and handwritten notes.

- he's a workaholic but he'll miss work or a meeting for Gabi's choir performances any day.

-overly excited for the science fair at Gabi's school and is involved with her project/signs up to be one of the judges.

-he's at every single parent teacher conference

- He has a no cell phones at dinner rule, and is big on talking with the kids, asking about their day and school.

- if you want kids, he's at all your prenatal appointments and saves all the ultrasound pics and cried when you told him you're pregnant

-he completely passed out on the guest couch for like 5 hours straight in your hospital room after your delivery because he was awake all night with you tending to you and the new baby, helping you to the bathroom with your postpartum undies and changing the baby's diaper

-blood doesn't bother him at all, being the scientist he is he asks the doctor a lot of questions and is comfortable watching the medical procedures while you're in labor.

-he babies you when you're pregnant and occupies the kids so you can rest/won't let you go anywhere by yourself/carry anything heavier than 5 pounds.

-definitely cries at his daughters wedding but complains about the cost of everything through the whole planning process.

-also gets teary at the kids graduation, brings in noisemakers/giant posters even though the principal said not to.

#miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #headcanon #miguel headcanons #Spotify

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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months

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LOVE the new fic. The betrayal literally made me tear up.

I was just curious would Gojo have given up on Ms. Moon if she were married or maybe had a kid.

oh fu c k such a good idea whydidn'tithinkofthis- (this got so long i am so sorry)

in the fic, ms.moon is pretty traumatized after the gojo incident to have any real relationships after.

But maybe ms.moon gets into therapy, works through the issues of intimacy. You meet someone, nice, kind. You settle down, have a kid. It'll be nice for a few years...but when gojo comes back into your life. he'll shut it down quick.

Gojo's worse than his high school self now. He might not beat your husband up, but that might be a blessing compared to the tsunami he's about to havoc on your family. Using his connections, he'll make sure your husband never finds a job in the entire city, the entire region even. He might even dig up something your husband did in his past, a small drug problem he had with highschool-something that would get swept under the rug normally, but with Gojo's scrutiny, it's about to become a lot bigger.

You could stop it. With enough begging. After you'd cry your heart out, he'd shush you, wiping away your tears, saying that he'd forgive you for your transgressions.

You'd be expected to divorce your husband. Your husband would be pretty pissed with your flimsy reasoning of 'my childhood bully isn't done with ruining my life' but then he'd remember that there is a reason the Gojo family is so big. And they don't take kindly to competitors who stand in their way. You'd understand why he lets you walk away without a fight, but a part of you wished he would have pushed more, even if the result would have remained the same.

It's your child who suffers the worst through all of this. Maybe you had a daughter. Perhaps gojo would be a bit more tolerant towards her if she looked like you but she was clearly her father's daughter. In the past, you adored it, now it's another curse for you.

You have to keep her away, for her sake. Gojo is already more than upset that you dared to start a family without him. Besides, why would you want her with you? Why would you want her to suffer under gojo's whims?

A part of you has to admit that it's also for your sake. You don't want your daughter to see you like that. Weak, rolling under that man's thumb.

She's probably just a toddler when you have to leave. She's too young to understand when you say 'mommy's going away for a while'. Maybe you'd lie to her, say that you're going overseas and when she asks if she can come with you, you'd shake your head because talking anymore would be too much because Satoru's waiting in the sleek black car right on the curb. It doesn't matter what you say, she screams and sobs the entire time.

You don't touch your ex-husband, you don't even hug because you know Satoru's watching. You just ask him to take care of her before you walk into the car, getting into the passenger seat. Your daughter's still begging you to come back. You make sure the car is out of her sight before you start sobbing.

There's a hand on your thigh, squeezing, a mocking act of comfort. You're sure Satoru's grinning.

"Aw. Don’t cry, baby," you can barely hold yourself back from slapping him, though you doubted even pain would wipe that look off his face.

The hand drifts up your thigh, playing with the hem of your pants.

"Once we have our own kids, you’ll get way too busy to think about your old one.”

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark gojo satoru #dark jjk #yandere gojo satoru #SEM

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maleyanderecafe · 8 months

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Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, "I love you too," she shifted to the romantic comedy route~(Manga)

Created by: Toyama Monaka/Kazuichi

Genre: Smut

The continual descent into translating yandere stuff continues. This one only has one chapter out for me to translate so far, so really the only last maybe 10 pages have any semblance of smut. Still though, the artwork for this one is very pretty and I am so happy with the way that I typefaced this one like you will not believe how clean it is compared to other ones I've translated.

The story starts out with a man named Isogi begging in front of Miyoshi to take him back after he cheated on her with another girl. Miyoshi of course bluntly rejects him, stating that the one thing he cannot forgive is cheating to which Isogi is dragged away. After that, her coworkers get worried about her and she continues her work at the coffee shop, only to meet up with another man named Ohara who asks if the two of them will be eating dinner tonight. Ohara and Miyoshi are childhood friends and have a tendency to eat together with her sister Ryoka. Outside, Isogi stalks Miyoshi until Ohara comes to "have a talk with him". At night, it seems Ohara is late and Miyoshi and Ryoka eat together instead, before Ryoka turns in for the night warning Miyoshi to be more careful when it comes to Ohara. Ohara comes over to eat and we see that Miyoshi has had a long time crush on him, however, feels that he has no interest in him because of an event that happened when she was in high school. At work, Tayaka ends up proposing to Miyoshi after she laments about her ex for a bit promising that he will be loyal, however, is interrupted by Ohara. Ohara seems pretty pissed which leads to Miyoshi feeling depressed about this fact as she still has a crush on him. Not wanting this to eat her, she tries to call Ohara so that she can confess to him, even if she feels he won't reciprocate. However, while attempting to do so, her sister ends up calling her instead, warning that Ohara is right behind her before Ohara takes her phone. Ohara is extremely jealous and starts to touch her. talking about how Isogi and Tayaka don't deserve her before basically mating pressing her at the end.

Basically I think that the plot of this smut (I mean most smuts barely have a plot, fair enough) was pretty intriguing until the very end of this chapter where everything escalates way too fast. I guess considering the title states it goes into a comedic route that might be the reason why? Hard to tell with just the first chapter though. Also because we know that the male lead is a yandere at all times, the misunderstanding of her not realizing that Ohara does have a huge crush on him is pretty like...well, the dramatic irony is not lost on me, I suppose. Still, I did think that the entire thing with Sayuki's drive to not try to get back together with someone who cheated is pretty good, although I'm not sure why she feels like that since we don't know if she's actually had problems with cheaters in the past (before Isogi) and I feel (?) like it's pretty standard for people to not get back with someone who has cheated on them if there is not reason to (like having kids or being financially dependent on them for instance). Like I said though, the ending of that is pretty confusing- how did Sayuki's sister Ryoka know that Ohara was right behind her and why did she call in the first place? I mean, I know Ryoka was pretty much the only person who knew the two liked each other, but how did she know he was coming for her? And like. I don't understand why Ohara didn't just try to confess to her in the first place if he likes her so dang much anways, especially since it did seem like the two of them were close. Again though, this is a smut so it's not like the plot is the most important part of this story, there's just a lot of things going on that don't really have an explanation now.

That being said, this artwork is very pretty and it does a good job with the yandere expressions that we did get. Hopefully as more chapters come out that I can translate we can figure out what is going on in this story.

#Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend “I love you too” she shifted to the romantic comedy route~#male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #manga #ongoing

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seravphs · 11 months

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beating hearts promised to bared teeth — part one: “The God Finds A Familiar”

KITSUNE! GOJO x GOD! FEM READER; KAMISAMA HAJIMEMASHITA AU

When a kind stranger offers you his home because your gambling addict of a father can’t pay rent, you’re left in charge of a shrine - with a catch. Once you arrive at your new home, you learn a crucial fact that he conveniently left out. You’re the new god in charge, and his familiar, who now belongs to you, does not like you. What’s a new god to do, especially when she finds herself slowly falling for the fox spirit?

wc — 10k

tags — enemies to lovers, shoujo manga heroine type reader, Japanese mythology/yokai, age gap (1000 year old fox and high school girl), slowburn, cameo from Sukuna, Toji, and Nanami, cameo from original Kamisama Hajimemashita cast

part two — “The God Finds A Husband” (coming soon)

shoujo series masterlist

If your stomach growls any louder, you’ll scare off the squirrels fighting over the end of a baguette loaf by the park bench you’re sitting on.

You’re currently in the middle of what others might describe as very hard times. To be honest, your very hard times have been going on for a while now - they just culminated at this specific moment. Regardless, these days are only temporary. You’ve promised yourself that one day, you’ll be able to smile from the bottom of your heart.

It’s just that it was easier said than done when you weren’t homeless. Your father has never been the most reliable of men. You had to take over the household finances by the time you were eight, so you’ve always been accustomed to his lack of responsibility, but today really solidified his status in your mind as an absolutely useless, no good man. It’s unfathomable cruelty to have left his only daughter with no money, no relatives, and no home.

You don’t want to call it cruel. For all of his faults, you still love your father. And it’s because you love him that you know this wasn’t a cruel act. Cruelty is intentional. It’s malicious. It comes from a desire to hurt. Your father has never wanted to hurt you. It’s just a byproduct of his gambling addiction. You’re collateral damage in his quest for the jackpot that would solve all his problems.

You double over in agony at the renewed complaints from your stomach. At least you’ve gone from scaring mere squirrels to scaring passersby. That’s an upgrade, right?

One woman clutches her purse closer as she walks past you as briskly as possible. You get it, you look bad.

But there’s no use being resentful. Your father has been barely one step above a deadbeat all your life. At the very least, you’re used to fending for yourself. Your stomach growls again, but you’re determined to ignore it. You need a plan of action. One step after another, you’ll make it out of these troublesome times.

Before you can start to plot, a loud cry for help catches your attention. It sounds like someone else is in even more dire straits than you are, which is saying a lot.

The squirrels have long since scattered, run off not by the scary noises coming from your famished stomach, but a pack of dogs. Somehow, a man has climbed several feet into the tree next to the trash can, and now perched precariously in its branches. Below him, curious dogs tilt their heads and give cautious barks.

“Aw, hello there, cuties,” you coo, rubbing behind their ears. They yip at you enthusiastically. One sets to chasing his own tail around the tree. They seem friendly enough, but you suppose one can’t help their phobias. A little regretfully, you chase them off.

“Go on now,” you tell the last one, leading him away. He whines, but does as you say. What a good boy.

“Thank you,” says the stranger stranded in the tree. He slides down the trunk, face slowly regaining color. “I owe you my life.”

“It was nothing!” You smile, but he won’t let you brush off your good deed.

“You’re a good kid,” he nods approvingly. “Gotta reward that. Is there anything you want?”

A home.

Not just the house you shared with your father, but somewhere warm to return to. A person who waits to see you safely inside the threshold.

But you know a stranger can’t give you that, so you shake your head and smile. “Really, it was nothing. You don’t owe me anything.”

As if he had heard your inner monologue, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “A home, hm? I might be able to help with that.”

Before you can react, he leans in and kisses your forehead. Where his lips touched your skin feels faintly warm and tingly, almost like the sensation of your leg going numb, before you recoil from him in shock.

He presses a map into your hand and tells you, “Go to this address. Tell them Yaga sent you, and you’ll be welcomed with open arms.”

With that, he runs off.

What a strange man.

Well, you’ve had a strange life, taking care of your hopeless father and all. Perhaps these things really did happen. It wasn’t so impossible for strangers to appear out of nowhere and reward you for good deeds. Maybe all the fairytales your father had read to you back when he hadn’t been so terrible were true.

Or maybe that was the wishful thinking of an optimistically delusional girl who needed somewhere to stay desperately.

The address is located on the outskirts of town. Pushing deeper into foliage and closer to forest than civilization, you find the location you had been sent to.

It’s a shrine.

A run-down shrine, of all places.

Are you on a comedy show? Should you start checking for cameras?

Against your will, you feel your eyes grow hot. That was a cruel trick to play. He had gotten your hopes up for nothing.

It’s not just your eyes. Your entire body starts to feel warm. The world around you erupts into blue flame. Heat licks at your shins as you scramble towards safety, closer to the center of the circle that has formed around you.

When the flames suddenly leap, as if they’ll consume the entire sky, you scream and drop to your knees, covering your head like it’s a bomb threat. Two childish voices ring in your head, as clear and crisp as bells.

Welcome home, Yaga-sama.

It’s a shrine. There’s only one logical conclusion.

This is a haunting.

There’s only one safe path out of the ring of fire, and it’s towards the building you’ve now concluded is the site of paranormal activity. Between being actively burned alive or facing spirits though, you know which one you’ll choose.

Your frantic fingers fumble over the latch on the shrine’s red doors as the fire inches closer and closer until you can feel its heat on your back. Finally, you throw open the doors and all but launch yourself inside. The heat recedes, but the voices do not.

“Back already, Yaga?” A male voice drawls. “I thought your pilgrimage would’ve taken longer. After leaving me to maintain the shrine by myself for sixty years -“

You shriek as an enormous, clawed hand comes down towards your face. Your eyes squeeze shut, waiting for the end.

“I’m not Yaga,” you wail, hoping it will save you.

“You have a lot of nerve?” The voice finishes, more uncertainly than before. When you deem it safe to open your eyes once more, what stands before is a young man dressed in all white. White hair and blue eyes make for a staring constraint, but his coloring isn’t what’s strange about him.

It’s his clawed hands and the equally white fox tail behind him.

“Megumi, Tsumiki,” he says authoritatively. “This isn’t Yaga.”

A shining ball of fire comes forward, speaking in the little girl’s voice you heard earlier. “That can’t be right! Look, she has the mark of the god on her forehead.”

You touch your forehead, remembering the warm tingly sensation you had felt when that man kissed you. Feeling slightly delirious, you start to laugh, only to grow alarmed when you find you can’t stop. You’re growing out of breath from your near hysterical laughing, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes.

“Oh, great,” says the fox spirit. “She’s crazy.”

“She’s the one with the mark,” the other ball of fire, Megumi, says. “That means she’s the god whether you like it or not, Gojo.”

Tsumiki darts over to you, but halfway through her journey, she goes from fire to a little child just under 2 feet tall. She’s wearing a mask and plain blue yukata.

“We have to celebrate!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “Our god has finally returned!”

Gojo looks dismissively down on you. Your laughing fit is finally starting to die down, but he doesn’t seem impressed regardless. “What god? I won’t accept a little human girl as my master. She couldn’t handle the strength of a familiar like me.”

His condescension only makes you giggle harder. You can’t help it. Something about the fluffy fox ears protruding out of his head makes it hard to take him seriously.

“What strength?” You laugh in his face. “This shrine is so dilapidated, I doubt you’re anything special.”

Gojo looks away. “If she stays, I’m leaving. I won’t serve this kind of pathetic god.”

He disappears in a cloud of white smoke before Tsumiki can finish saying, “Don’t be like that!”

The will-o-wisp children introduce themselves to you as shrine spirits who look after the building. It takes a while, but by the time they kindly show you to the room where you’ll be staying, you can distinguish Tsumiki from Megumi by the differences in the masks they never take off.

Your room is simple and threadbare. The walls are paneled bamboo and the only furnishing is an old futon. Still, you’re grateful. It’s leagues better than sleeping in the woods, which is what you started this day fearing you would have to resort to. You’ve never been the type to complain, and you won’t start now, no matter how strange your life has gotten.

Fox spirits and will-o-wisp children don’t exist. They’re the stuff of myths. Maybe you’re just seeing things because you’re tired, you muse as you drift off to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning after a nice, long rest. The events of today will feel so far away, and you’ll be able to start over.

Or maybe you’re dead already, and you’re wandering in the Netherworld. Perhaps the reason you can see spirits is because you’re currently residing in their land. Your entire body seizes up as you jolt yourself back to wakefulness.

“Kamisama,” Tsumiki has crept back into your room. “Are you alright?”

You tell her to call you by her name. Calling you god just doesn’t feel right.

Gently, she nestles down by your pillow and puts her cold little hands on your forehead. Rather than shocking to your senses, it feels pleasant. When you were a little girl and got sick, your father used to let you stay home from school. He’d pack a towel with ice cubes and place it on your overheated forehead, staying up with you all night just to chat. It’s a good memory.

“It’ll be alright,” Tsumiki tells you in her gentle voice. “You’ll see.”

For spirits that supposedly take care of the shrine, you have a suspicion that Tsumiki and Megumi are pushing their work onto you when they brief you on your chores the next morning. It turns out godhood is a lot less summoning storms and a lot more doing yard work.

Tsumiki insists that keeping the shrine pure is important for keeping evil spirits away. For some reason, that means cleaning. When you ask about calling lightning or summoning lions, Megumi laughs at you.

“That’s Getou-sama’s job,” he says. “Your specialty is marriage. Yaga was very good at tying peoples’ fates together. You will be, too.”

He has more faith than you do in that regard. When it comes to chores, however, you’re more certain of your abilities. Busy work keeps the absurdity of your situation from sinking in, and you’re good at running the household from years of dealing with your father. You’re grateful for something to do. If you think about the past day too hard, you might break down into shocked laughter and never get back up.

Besides, even if you don’t feel particularly ready to be a god, Tsumiki and Megumi are letting you stay in the shrine. You have to earn your keep. Soon, you settle into the process of cleaning, letting the methodical, rhythmic nature of your movements erase any doubts in your mind. You think of nothing but the cooling sensation of the water when you dip your rag into the bucket and the clean, woody scent of the shrine as you scrub the wood.

“Ooh,” Tsumiki says approvingly when she appears. “It looks better already! Can you do the lawn next?”

Plucking weeds is notably less soothing than cleaning. With no gloves, you’re careful to avoid hurting yourself as you tug on spiky vines and knotted twigs, but it’s no use. Eventually, you lose focus and a sharp sting graces your finger. Blood drips down your hand. You hiss in pain.

A hand with white claws instead of nails grabs your wrist. You yelp in shock as Gojo brings your finger to his mouth and laps at the blood. It stains his lips slightly red. He worries at the cut with his tongue, making your wound ache. You try to pull back, but he holds on.

To your amazement, the cut closes before your eyes. You’re just about to thank him when he ruins the moment.

“You really are useless,” he says. “You can’t even pluck grass?”

You yank your hand out of his grip as hard as you can, sending yourself tumbling back against the grass. You hate how it must make yourself seem even more human in his eyes, a weak, fragile thing.

“Give up,” he says, and it’s almost gentle, the way his claws graze your chin as he holds your face in one hand. “You’re not suited to be a god.”

You turn away, unwilling to let him see any more of your vulnerability. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Suit yourself,” he says with a noise of annoyance. “Brats who run away from home aren’t my problem.”

“I didn’t run away!” You snap, whirling on him. “My dad was the one who ran! I don’t have anywhere else to go!”

But he’s gone.

At least Megumi and Tsumiki are nice to you. Megumi takes the bucket of weeds you deposit at the front door and whisks it somewhere out of your sight, while Tsumiki prepares a nice, hot bath for you. Exhausted, you collapse onto the bamboo floor spread eagle.

God, a voice murmurs in your head.

Not again. You don’t want any more spirits to deal with. When you raise your head, instead of another yokai, there’s an old woman standing in front of the shrine. Her head is bowed and her hands are clasped in prayer.

Please bless my daughter’s marriage so that she will enjoy a long and fruitful life with her partner.

Her voice is coming from some place inside your head. It resonates like a bell, ringing crisp and clear. You stretch out your hands wonderingly. You don’t look any different.

“You see?” Tsumiki says approvingly. “You’re a god.”’

But you don’t feel like one. You feel just like a normal person.

“A god needs a familiar.” You can’t see Megumi’s face behind his mask as he speaks, but you can imagine the solemn little boy he must be. “You need to bind Gojo to you.”

“How do I do that?”

“You have to kiss him.”

You wait for them to tell you they’re joking.

“What? I can’t kiss him! Is there-”

Megumi cuts in. “It’s just the traditional way to seal the contract. Don’t think too much of it.”

The fact that neither of them are bothered makes you feel like the ridiculous one for being off put by this, but you’re sure you’re not. Still, if you’re a god now, you have to put all of your mortal sensibilities aside. It’s like another culture, you tell yourself. Like how Europeans kiss each other on the cheek to say hello. Even if you can’t convince yourself, Megumi and Tsumiki are insistent.

You were so fired up just a second ago, but now your head is filled with doubts. If such a simple matter can sway you, are you really meant to be a god after all? Maybe Gojo is right. Maybe you should just leave.

“Please,” Tsumiki says. She looks distraught. “Don’t abandon us. Please don’t leave.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but his silence is enough.

“Okay,” you say, feeling defeated. “I’ll give it a shot.”

You’ve always been good at chores. If taming Gojo is just another part of your new job, it sounds like it's time to get serious.

“Take me to him.”

Megumi and Tsumiki balk.

“Right now?”

“Why not? The sooner I get it over with, the better, right?”

“He’s...indisposed at the moment,” Tsumiki says carefully.

“Indisposed? Is he sick?”

“Not quite,” Megumi says. He’s very expressive for a spirit. You can practically imagine him grimacing.

“Then it’s fine!”

You would soon come to regret your words.

Megumi and Tsumiki lead you out of the shrine. They show you where to find the path that can lead you to the land of spirits and demons. Your entire body rebels at the feeling of being in this other world, but at the same time, you feel at home here. The god and the girl that coexist inside of you are mutually repelled by and attracted to this place.

Even though you know Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t really children, or at least children in the way mortals think of them, you’re still concerned about letting them traipse around this dangerous place. However, they seem more used to this world than you are. That energy is better devoted to fending for yourself.

They lead you under bridges where the running water smells like flowers and women’s voices hiss in the babble of the current. Tree leaves rustle with hands that disappear into darkness. You follow them through dark alleyways lined with red paper blessings, and doorsteps encircled with salt. Eyes follow you, leaving your skin crawling.

You’re so focused on keeping your head down and staying out of danger that you almost don’t notice when they stop. You nearly run Megumi over.

“He’s inside here,” Tsumiki says.

Is it just you, or does she seem nervous?

The lanterns inside this establishment are turned down to a dimness that barely illuminates the corridors. Sweet smelling smoke writhes around your feet from some unknown source as you head deeper and deeper into the maze of hallways, following the pair of shrine spirits. You pass women wearing fox masks, dressed in luxurious kimonos. Their hair towers over their head in elaborate updos, held in place with beautiful pins inlaid with chartreuse and gold.

Megumi stops before a folding screen door. Like all things within this building, it’s beautiful. The silk screen is painted with images of flowers and more gruesome scenes as well, but somehow, it’s still breath-taking. A little like Gojo, in that regard.

You hear the voices of women behind the screen, flattering Gojo. The light of a single candle illuminates the dim room, imprinting his silhouette against it, as well as that of the two women with him. They’re draped over him, hands roaming his body as they purr their compliments. Your face burns with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” Megumi demands of Gojo. “How can you parade around the red-light district like this? You’re the familiar of a god, not some common demon! If Yaga knew, it’d break his poor heart.”

Behind the screen, Gojo merely brushes him off. “Yaga’s been replaced by some little human worm. Why should I care what he thinks now?”

“What about the shrine? Don’t you care about that, at least?” Tsumiki's voice is thick with reproach.

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I do,” he says. “Ha! You know what? Maybe I should thank that girl. Now that I’m free, I can do whatever I want.”

“Gojo-“

“I’ll can indulge in every little vice Yaga never allowed me to touch before. Who would want to be a familiar when I can have all of this?”

“Gojo, our god is here.”

“What?”

He leaps up and pushes the screen aside, coming face to face with you. He looks startled to see you, though you don’t see why he should care, since he so desires to lead a life of sin.

You look upon him with disgust. You might want a familiar, but you’re not so desperate you’d stoop as low as this. Gojo cares so little for anyone but himself. If you’re going to be a god, you’re going to do it right. You’ll pick a good familiar, one who will genuinely love the shrine as much as it deserves.

You turn and leave as he, half-clothed, frantically starts pulling on the outer layers of his kimono.

“Wait,” he calls after you. “Tsumiki! Megumi! Why would you bring her here?”

“She wanted to see you,” Megumi retorts.

“This isn’t the place for a human,” he says. “She’s going to get eaten!”

The faster Gojo follows you, the faster you run from him. By the time you’re out of what you’ve come to realize is a brothel, you’re sprinting. Your legs carry you right into someone else as your face slams against a broad, muscled chest.

“Oh,” says a voice above your head. “How pretty.”

A hand caresses your face. This spirit has tattoo marks across his face and body. More interestingly, he has multiple arms.

You’re frozen in place by fear as he brings his mouth closer and closer to your face. He’s close enough to kiss, but this is a spirit, which means he’s more likely to eat you.

“Be good for me now,” he purrs in your ear. “Fear makes flesh all the sweeter.”

Three of his six arms are consumed by fire. He pushes you away from him in favor of batting out the flame.

Gojo pulls you towards him, hiding you in the folds of his billowing kimono. You press your face against his shoulder, swallowing back the tears of fear from nearly being eaten. Somehow, he feels safe, even though he’s been nothing but antagonistic towards you. He feels almost protective as he shields your body with his, securing you under one arm.

“Scram,” he tells the other demon. “She’s mine, Sukuna.”

Sukuna rolls his pairs of eyes. “You weren’t with her when I caught her. She’s fair game.”

Fox fire flickers in Gojo’s hand. His white talons seem to elongate before your eyes.

“If you want to fight over her, then by all means,” he says with a dangerous smile. “But we both know I’d win.”

“Maybe later then,” Sukuna says, lazily as if Gojo isn’t threatening him. “Once I’ve eaten my fill.”

He stalks off into the night in search of more prey.

“This is why I told you to wait,” Gojo says, running his hand over his face. “You’re practically bait in this world. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

You nod, not trusting your voice, but he catches on anyways.

“Don’t cry,” he says, his face twisted in a grimace. “I won’t know what to do if you cry. Look, this is just your life now, okay? You’ll have to get used to it.”

On impulse, you press your face into his shoulder again, still sniffling. You want to be comforted, even though you know he won’t give it to you.

“Ugh,” he says, true to form. “Quit that.”

By the time you’ve calmed down, Gojo has already escorted you back to the shrine.

“Don’t come back,” he tells you.

Of course, you can’t listen to him. On your second night in the land of the dead and monsters, not only do you have to hide from beasts who would devour you the moment they found out what you were, you also have to hide from Gojo. You’re wearing a disguise, courtesy of Tsumiki and Megumi.

In your defense, it’s not like you want to be here. You need a familiar, and it’s clearly not going to be Gojo.

According to Tsumiki, Gojo’s the strongest, but there are other familiars who would be willing to serve you. They’re all in the Netherworld, however, and you have to find them before you can contract them.

You pull the curtain of the hat shielding your face a little closer around you as you peer at the faces surrounding you, trying to gauge who looks friendly. None of them do. You’ve been wandering around for hours, but not a single spirit has stood out to you.

In the end, you don’t find him. He finds you.

“A human god?” A hand grasps your wrist loosely. “That’s rare. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be here?”

The man in front of you looks normal by any standards - but you know better than to trust your gut in the netherworld. Still, he’s the closest thing to a human you’ve seen in a while. Surrounded by a maelstrom of monsters, he feels like the eye of the storm. There’s a quiet and a calm surrounding him, even as you walk among noderabo with withered, leathery skin and scaly yajo.

It’s not like he’s in his own little pocket of the world, you realize. He is. Everyone is purposefully giving him a wide berth.

“Who are you?”

“I asked first,” he says.

“You know who I am! You just said so - I’m the human god.”

His eyes rake over you. “So you are. But what are you doing here, girl?”

You throw his words back in his face obstinately. “You first.”

“I’m Toji.” That doesn’t tell you anything, but he’s clearly unwilling to divulge more. “Your turn.”

“I’m looking for a familiar.”

“What about your familiar? I heard that Gojo-sama isn’t keen on sharing.”

Somehow, the way he says Gojo-sama sounds derisive, even with the respectful honorific.

“He doesn’t want to be my familiar.”

The rejection stings coming out of your own mouth.

“Sounds like him. Haughty bastard, he couldn’t stand to serve a human girl, could he?”

“Yeah! He’s an asshole,” you say, feeling validated.

When Toji laughs, the scar over his lip tugs one side of his mouth down. You kind of like it. And he must be strong, just looking at him. He’s well muscled and covered in scars. Of course, there’s the little matter of the reverence everyone around you is offering him. Tsumiki and Megumi had told you to just go out and find one. Could it be that easy?

“Are you interested?”

He gives you a look of barely concealed amusement. “You’re funny, girl. I don’t think Gojo would like that very much, though.”

“I don’t care what Gojo thinks.”

“Oh, here he comes now. Don’t go running too far - you’ll worry him,” he says, slow and easy. His confidence is absurd - it reminds you of Gojo, actually. He must be strong. “If you’re really serious about wanting me as a familiar, why don’t you meet me here again in three days?”

“What are you doing?” Gojo snarls at you. His teeth match the rest of his fox physique. With wonder, you realize that his pearly canines are pointed beyond what’s normal. “I told you not to come back!”

“But- He-” You turn around to point Toji out, but he’s gone.

“Who?” Gojo says.

“He was right there!”

“You’re so annoying,” Gojo bites out. “I don’t care what happens to you, but if you die, Megumi and Tsumiki will cry, so stop wandering off on your own. You’re lucky you didn’t get devoured on the spot.”

He’s starting to get really irritating. You shove his hands off.

“You know it’s actually your fault I’m here, right? If you didn’t reject me, I wouldn’t have to scour the Netherworld for a familiar.”

Gojo scoffs. “My fault? Maybe you should take a look at yourself. If you were less weak, I wouldn’t have a problem serving you!”

“That’s- You’re impossible!” You splutter. “I can’t help being weak! I was born this way! Not everyone is so lucky to be born a kitsune, oh-so-great-Gojo-sama.”

“Enough,” he sighs. Taking you by your wrist, he forcibly drags you through the streets back in the direction you came.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!”

“Gojo!” Megumi’s reproving voice breaks the argument up before it can begin again.

He lets go of you almost guiltily, if you thought he could feel guilt.

“I’ll take her home,” Megumi says.

Gojo’s tail lashes behind him angrily, but Megumi doesn’t spare him a second glance as he ushers you away.

“Thank you,” you tell him in relief. “What are you doing here?”

“You were taking a long time,” he says. “Tsumiki and I were getting worried. Did you find anyone?”

You think of Toji. “No,” you say. “No one.”

The next day, while Megumi and Tsumiki dress you for your trip through the Netherworld again, Megumi presses three slips of white paper into your hands.

“We should’ve taught you this sooner,” he says. “One of the powers of a god is to transform objects. Whatever you write on this charm will become true - within the scope of your power. Be safe.”

Armed with your paper slips, you feel like a real god. Tsumiki pushes you out the door with a prayer for good luck, though you’re not sure you can grant prayers to yourself for yourself.

Outside the door, something whines by your feet.

“Gojo?”

Or is that a regular white fox?

It snaps its teeth at you.

Definitely Gojo.

“I don’t need an escort,” you tell him, making shooing motions at him with your hands. “Go away!”

He rolls over and yips at you, his tail wagging.

“I can’t understand you like this!”

“I said,” a cloud of smoke reveals him, mostly humanoid once again, except for his ears and tail. “I don’t want to do this either. It’s for Megumi and Tsumiki.”

Toji doesn’t seem to like him, so you don’t want to risk bringing him with you. Despite your best attempts to shake him, Gojo follows you as you retrace your steps back into the spirit world. You’re just starting to despair when you spot a bigger reason to be upset.

“Hello, delicious,” Sukuna says. “Ready for round two?”

Why does he look even more terrifying? Did he get bigger?

“Leave her alone,” Gojo says, almost bored. “It’s pathetic. You can only bully things weaker than you, huh?”

“I’m not afraid to fight you,” Sukuna tells him.

You’re panicking. They both look serious. You don’t want to be caught between these two forces of nature.

“You should be,” Gojo says, and steps in front of you. Over his shoulder, he tells you, “Run. You’re in my way.”

This is the chance you were waiting for.

Toji’s dressed differently when you find him again. Last night, he was wearing a casual black kimono. Tonight, he’s dressed in a tight fitting black shirt and loose white pants.

“You look nice,” you tell him, feeling anxious. Your mind keeps going back to Gojo. You’re sure he can hold his own, but you’re still worried for him. As you are, however, you’re of no help to him. The only way you’d be able to rescue him if he actually was in danger is by making a contract with a powerful familiar.

“It’s for work,” he says. “Follow me.”

“We can’t do it here?”

“Do you want to kiss me in front of everyone?” He shrugs and reaches for you. “I mean, I’m down if you are, but I figured-”

“No,” you squeak and dart away. “Privacy is good!”

He laughs. “You’re as funny as ever, huh? C’mere.”

Toji leads you off the beaten path and further into the woods. The only thing that keeps you from feeling more nervous is the moon shining overhead, illuminating your path. It feels almost like a friend is with you.

“Here is good,” Toji says, stopping at a clearing.

“It’s so pretty,” you breathe out, dazzled. This deep into the woods, fireflies are lighting your way. Beneath your feet, a springy bed of flowers and moss covers the floor.

“What can I say? I’m a romantic.”

“Yeah, right,” you laugh at him, but you draw closer. You think you could trust him. You think you could be partners with him.

Then Toji grabs you by the shoulders and dangles you off the edge of the clearing, over a steep drop you hadn’t noticed. The sharp cut off had been hidden by flowers, danger painted over with beauty.

“Sorry, kid,” Toji says. “No hard feelings, right?”

“Why?” You whisper. Gojo had been right.

“There’s a bounty on your head,” he says. “Getou has offered to grant the wish of anyone who kills you.”

His eyes turn wistful. “I have a kid. Haven’t seen him in years. You understand, right? It’s not personal.”

The fall is brutal. The wind whips tears into your eyes, if you weren’t already crying from the fear of falling to your death. You have to do something, anything. Above your head, something white flutters.

A dove?

Then another.

It’s one of the paper ofuda Megumi had given you before you left, caught in the updraft of you rushing down to earth. You snatch it out of the air. You can’t reach the pen in your pocket. With increasing desperation, you bite down on your finger hard enough to draw blood and trace the characters for a tree branch onto it. Holding it aloft, you pray.

Between your hands, wood solidifies. You’re clinging to a scrap of a twig sprouting from the rocky cliffside. Megumi’s words echo in your head - only within the scope of your power.

So this is it, huh?

That’s all there is of your godly strength.

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Gojo says. He has no problem balancing on the sheer cliff. His appearance is impeccable, completely unscathed from his fight with Sukuna. He perches like a bird, as comfortable as if he were standing on solid ground. “Do you need help?”

Thank god. He’s here to save you! You nod, turning teary eyes on him. You were wrong about him. Gojo really is a good guy, deep down.

“If you say, ‘Please save me, Gojo-sama, I was stupid.’ I’ll help you. Throw in some crying and begging, too.”

Your eyes dry up instantly. He’s a total bastard. You clutch onto the branch tighter. There’s no way you’ll give him the satisfaction of groveling for help.

Your resolve weakens when you hear the first snap.

“Time’s ticking,” Gojo calls in a sing-song voice. “What will it be?”

The harder you hold on, the more your flimsy branch breaks.

“Come on,” Gojo says. “It’s not that hard. It’s just seven little words. Isn’t that worth your life?”

“Go fuck yourself,” you tell him, and the branch finally snaps.

Falling for the second time is just as bad as the first time. The icy wind snatches at you like claws, tearing at your clothes.

To your surprise, Gojo leaps after you. He makes free-fall look elegant - surely a far cry from whatever you’re doing.

“Just say it,” he yells, within arm’s reach. He’s so close he could snag you by the shirt and haul you to safety, but you know he won’t. Not without getting what he wants. “Would you rather die than just apologize?”

You have an answer prepared.

His eyes widen in shock when you press your palms to his cheek, pull him closer, and kiss him.

You barely have time to register the taste of him, sake and something sweet, before the reality of falling to your death rushes in again.

“Gojo, save me!”

As if his body is piloted by someone else, Gojo catches you. For him, it’s a short leap back up to the top of the clearing, where Toji has disappeared.

You climb down from his hold once you’re certain you’re safe. You never thought you’d miss the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet this much, but at the moment, you’re willing to kiss the earth.

Gojo seems much worse off. He’s frozen in shock, muttering the same refrain to himself under his breath. “Me? Bound to her? Impossible.”

“Let’s go home,” you tell him. He doesn’t seem to get it until you tug him towards the path, and then he leads the way wordlessly. .

You wake to Megumi and Tsumiki weeping over you.

“I’m alright!”

They freeze, then burst into fresh tears.

“We thought you would never wake up! Your first time using ofuda must have been too much for you,” Megumi gets out through his sobs.

You feel sore all over. You can barely recall the events of the previous night, only that you kissed-

“Finally up?”

Gojo’s tapping his foot as he waits for you to get up. He looks furious. There’s an unmistakeable tick in his jaw that spells trouble for you.

It’s too early to deal with him. You duck back under the covers.

“Oh no you don’t,” he growls out as he seizes your wrist and bodily hauls you out of your warm cocoon of blankets. “You wanted to be a god, you’re going to be a god. It’s time for some training.”

You shiver pathetically in the cold morning air. If you had known helping a stranger would lead to be harassed by a fox spirit, you would’ve never done it in the first place.

“Try harder,” Gojo says at your sixth failed attempt to turn water into wine.

“It smells alcoholic,” Megumi offers loyally.

“I am trying!” You insist.

“Harder,” Gojo snarls.

The seventh attempt doesn’t change. Gojo throws up his arms and stalks out of the shrine, declaring the need to cool his head. Tsumiki frantically trails him, not trusting him to not attempt to run away again.

Megumi tries to assure you that you’re doing well, but honestly, you need to leave too. The shrine feels too stuffy. A change of scenery will do you good. Sitting alone in the woods just behind the shrine, you try to focus. Slowly, stacks of ofuda disappear from your hands as you paste them to trees, willing them to blossom. Wilt. Do anything, anything at all.

You’re out cold when Gojo finds you.

“Divine power takes time,” he says as he prepares dinner. “Use too many talismans at once and you’ll pass out.”

You drink a spoonful of soup morosely. “How do I get stronger?”

“You’ll get stronger if you grant prayers.”

Tsumiki perks up. “One just came in!”

“I already looked at it,” Gojo says dismissively. “Not that one.”

“Everyone’s wishes deserve to be looked at,” you argue.

Gojo scoffs, “Not this one.”

“Don’t be rude! A god can’t pick and choose.”

He tosses the prayer at you.

Morimoto Rika’s request touches your heart. She’s the spirit of a nearby lake - not just any spirit, as Megumi helpfully clarifies, but another owner of a shrine. A human boy visits her waters nightly. By the light of the moonlight, she fell in love with him, but she can’t meet him because they live in two separate worlds.

And to think that you would’ve never known to help her if Gojo had continued keeping this from you.

“This sounds like the perfect job for me,” you argue.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Yokai can’t fall in love with humans.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Aren’t you bound to do as I say? Take me to her.”

Against his will, Gojo summons what’s called a ‘night fog coach’. Only operable at night, as the name suggests, it’s a tall black carriage truly made for a god. You’re just wondering how Gojo expects you to climb aboard when he effortlessly lifts you by the waist.

“You’re the one who wanted to go meet her,” he sneers. “Chop-chop.”

Your supplicant looks like a fish if it were a girl. She has pale green skin and large, black eyes, with overly large teeth for her mouth. Black hair frames a heart shaped face. She’s cute, in her own monstrous way. And she’s desperately in love with a human boy.

Gojo helps you transform her into a human body and make her over into a normal teenage girl. For a prayer granted, it feels like nothing more than dressing your friend up for a date.

You’re even as nosy as you would be in that situation. It’s the first prayer you’ve ever granted. You know you shouldn’t, but you and Gojo watch the burgeoning romance from a distance. Of course, he’s completely disapproving, but you have high hopes for them - until Rika pulls out a ring.

Aren’t they moving a little too fast?

It only gets worse when Rika confesses that she’s been stalking him - sort of. Keeping tabs on him for his safety by following him around town is a little too close to the other, for your liking. Your head drops into your hands.

But Yuta takes it surprisingly well. A little too well, in fact. It only seems to infatuate him even more. You knew there were certain types of men out there who loved crazy, but you had never seen it in real life - until now.

Could this even be counted as a success?

You’re happy for Rika and Yuta, as happy as you can be for their twisted little union, but you’re just waiting for Gojo to bite your head off for bringing a (real) monster and a human together as soon as you get back home. At least they’re happy, you think ruefully. Worse things could happen. Your first union as a marriage god didn’t fail. In fact, of all people, Yuta seemed the most likely in the world to accept Rika as she was, human or not.

To your surprise, returning to the shrine, Gojo begrudgingly says, “You did well.”

Any warm feelings you have for him the next day are replaced when he barges into your room and demands you strip.

“You have guests,” he says. “Messengers from Toji-sama, the god of the wind.”

Your eyes grow wide. You hadn’t known Toji was a god. Come to think of it, did Gojo even know the reason why you had been falling from that cliff? You weren’t sure if he had come in time to see who had pushed you.

“What are you worried about? I’ll be at your side the whole time.”

You’ll tell him later. Right now, you have a serious matter to prepare for.

You tried not to discriminate on the basis of his master, but it’s not that at all. Toji’s familiar, Naoya, is simply annoying on his own terms.

“So you’re the new god of this ramshackle little shrine,” he sniffs. “God, it’s disgusting. How poor are you?”

“You must be the thirteenth familiar Toji’s owned. He goes through you like toys, doesn’t he? Of course you wouldn’t know that he used to live in worse conditions before. Deplorable.” Gojo laughs in his face.

Naoya grits his teeth. “I’m surprised your little human dared to show her face. I thought she’d be terrified after what Toji did to her. They’re such weak little things.”

Gojo looks at the other demon with a calm that worries you. As human as he is, there are moments when you can catch the monster lurking within. He’s like the sea, deceptively calm until you remember the threat of an unseen riptide.

“If you insult my master again,” he says carefully, enunciating every word like he’s stabbing at them with a knife, “I will take your head and deliver it to your master as a present.”

“Don’t tell me you’re happy to be serving a mortal girl,” Naoya laughs. “Not someone like you, Satoru. How the mighty have fallen.”

Gojo looks at him for a long moment, then he ignores him completely and walks to your side. The most painful part of Naoya’s digs at you is knowing he’s right. Gojo doesn’t like this. How could he? He went from being the strongest to being commanded by some powerless girl. Still, Gojo gazes at you with his inscrutable eyes. You can’t read him at all.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees next to you.

With a gentleness you can hardly bear, he lays his head in your lap, as gentle and docile as a puppy. His neck is bared as if for an executioner’s axe, the delicate pulse of his heart open to you. He closes his eyes. His breath is shallow. He stays there, and says no more.

“Oh, Satoru,” Naoya says in delight. “You really have become a tamed thing.”

With an uncertainty you’re trying to hide, you lift your hands to Gojo’s head. His hair is sinfully soft. You’re almost scared he’ll try to take your hands off for it, but when you start to gently pet his hair, he almost purrs. His eyes close, half-lidded in pleasure.

“I serve who I want to serve,” Gojo says. His tail lashes behind him. “Who are you to tell me my master is unworthy?”

Naoya shrugs, clearly disbelieving. “Sure, Satoru. Keep telling yourself that. I’m just here to deliver a gift.”

He tosses you a package wrapped carefully in beautiful, ornate wrapping paper. You’re sure it’s not Toji’s doing. He’s not the type.

As soon as he leaves, Gojo pushes himself away from you. It leaves you a little sorrowful, the speed with which he tries to get away. He only did it for your sake, you know. He wanted to protect your honor in front of Naoya because you’re his master. But it must have disgusted him, to get on his knees for a human, if he recoiled so fast.

“What did he mean, what Toji did to you?” Gojo asks over dinner.

You know instantly that you’ll only draw his ire if you try to play dumb.

“Toji pushed me off that cliff the day you found me.”

Gojo’s eyes darken. The next time Naoya returns, he promises you, he’d set his tail on fire. No one besmirches his master’s honor like that.

It’s about honor, of course. You’d be a fool to think otherwise.

Alone in your chambers, you unwrap the package Naoya gave you. It’s an incense burner, beautiful and silver. As apology presents go, it’s a decent one. You set it aside for use at a later time.

Naoya’s visit only makes Gojo’s training worse, but these days, you’ve grown used to him and his harsh words. The more that he yells at you for being weak, the more you can brush it off as Gojo just being Gojo. That only irritates him more, of course.

But nothing pisses him off as much as you claiming that you’re returning to school. Gojo thinks that you have no need for school as a god. There’s nothing the humans can teach you that he can’t.

In your eyes, Gojo is a kitsune. That means he’ll never understand a teenage girl’s heart. School isn’t about learning, it’s about the experience! You’ll never be in high school again - there are so many things you still haven’t experienced, like school trips. You only have one youth - you have to seize it in the moment!

Gojo isn’t convinced.

Like an overbearing parent, he nags you all day and night until finally, you strike a deal. He’ll let you go to school, but only as long as you cover up the god-mark on your head. Gojo is never one to make things easy for you. The hat he bestows you with is an ugly grandma print with faux fox ears. You’ll be the laughingstock of the school!

“It’s dangerous,” he says. “Who knows what wild beasts will be lurking about?”

“You’re the wild beast,” you say. “I can’t wear that!”

“I guess you can’t go to school then,” he sighs. “What a pity.”

It’s all for show, of course. You know what he’s really like. There’s no use in arguing - either you agree to his compromise or you stay here, stuck in the temple for the rest of your life. You’ll miss out on all the joys of youth, never growing old in your cloistered shrine. The thought is unbearable.

You snatch the hat from him in indignation. Putting it on before you leave the next day makes you cringe, but as long as you avoid mirrors, you can almost forget that it’s there - if not for your classmates staring at you. You can feel their judging eyes everywhere you go, and the whispers.

You can’t even say you don’t care - you do care. You only have one high school life, and Gojo is ruining it. During lunch, you escape into the bathroom to mope and avoid all of your classmates.

“Are you getting bullied?” Gojo’s voice is too bright and cheery for your dark mood right now. You can’t promise to remain calm if he stays here.

“This is the girl’s bathroom, Gojo.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m just worried about my master,” he says. “Well? How is it? Do you want to go home now?”

He’s lying. You know he’s not worried about you at all, but you should be used to it. You don’t know why it stings as much as it does.

You’re hurt even though you know this is just how Gojo is. Of course he’d be happy to see you miserable - he hadn’t even wanted you for a god in the first place. He’s bound to you by obligation, and nothing more. You had known from the start that he didn’t care about you, so why does it hurt that he won’t comfort you? It’s just like those nights in the demon world that seem so long ago now. He hasn’t changed at all.

Gojo isn’t as shocked by your outburst as he is by the tears slowly welling up in your eyes. He stands stunned as you rush out of him and back into the hallway.

Tsumiki appears next to him out of thin air, completely unimpressed.

“You did a terrible job on that one, Gojo.”

As if in a daze, he lifts his hand, where the crystal of one teardrop shines. He’d tried to reach for you at the last moment, but you were already gone. “I made her cry...”

Megumi appears next to Tsumiki, his face red. “What’s taking so long? Hurry up and leave! We’re in the girl’s bathroom!”

“Gojo was bullying our master,” Tsumiki announces.

“I wasn’t bullying her!”

“He made her cry.”

Gojo winces. “Okay, yeah. I did do that.”

Megumi kicks him in the leg, which amounts to almost nothing. “Take responsibility, then!”

When you return home, Gojo is waiting by the shrine door with an almost offensively polite smile on his face. “Let me take your coat, master.”

Him being kind gives you the creeps. You can’t help but feel like he’s planning something, especially when he shows you the lavish dinner he prepared for you with all of your favorites.

“What’s with the look?” He says, annoyed at your accusing eyes peering at him over your bowl. “I do something nice for you and this is how you treat me?”

“This is really just for me? No ulterior motives?”

“None,” he promises.

The smile that breaks over your face is like the sun through rain clouds - sudden, dramatic, and almost painfully bright after a period of gray skies.

“Thanks, Gojo!”

The look in his eyes is unreadable as he reaches to spoon more food onto your plate.

You don’t have anyone else in this world. Besides the shrine spirits, Gojo might be the only person in the world who will take care of you. For some reason, the thought doesn’t sting as much as it did this morning.

The second day of school starts with pouring rain, as if it’s a direct reaction to your foul mood earlier. Gojo pulls you back when you try to leave.

“It’s a bad omen,” he says. “Stay home with me today. I’ll worry about you if you go.”

Normally, such sweet words might bring a blush to your face, but you can read between the lines.

Stay home with me today so I can keep you out of trouble, you brat.

I’ll worry about you if you go because you’re weaker than a worm.

“Stop trying to keep me from going to school! I thought we got over this yesterday,” you huff. “I’m going to be late for the bus!”

You leave Gojo with a handful of air as you dart under his outstretched arm and out the door.

In school, all your classmates are listless.

You’ve never been so unhappy to not be the subject of attention. What is wrong with everyone? Even the teacher doesn’t reprimand anyone for sleeping in class, half-asleep herself. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to be caught in this spell of drowsiness, which insinuates paranormal origins.

As you’re sweeping the classroom after class, one of your classmates lets out a disgruntled noise.

“It’s a snake,” she says, not at all with the intonation of someone who’s just discovered a snake. Ami’s the type to go apoplectic at the sight of a fly, much less an actual snake, so you don’t pay much mind until you hear Kurama go, “Huh, she wasn’t kidding.”

There’s a little yellow snake in the classroom. In their stupor, none of your classmates seem to care all that much about it. They just continue going about their chores. You feel bad for it. It’s such a small, fragile little creature. In their state, they might accidentally end up crushing it.

With gentle murmurs of encouragement, you coax it into your hand. It’s surprisingly docile and twines itself readily around your wrist before you set it outside the window to be set free.

Gojo doesn’t praise you for your act of heroism on the behalf of his fellow yokai, as you remind him. You saved his compatriots! Where’s the gratitude?

He calls you a stupid little girl. “I don’t care about them, I care about you!”

Your face warms with embarrassment against your will even though you know he doesn’t mean it like that. Time and time again, Gojo has stressed that he will never see yokai and humans as even remotely on the same playing field, much less capable of being romantic partners.

“You’re my master,” he says. There’s your call back to reality. “Look at this mark on your wrist.”

It appears like a normal bruise to you, though you’re not sure how it could’ve happened. Your new snake friend was very gentle when he was coiled around your wrist. He must have been someone’s escaped pet. You hope he found his way back home.

Gojo’s mad. He’s enunciating every word.

“This is exactly why I have to keep such a close eye on you. That’s no ordinary bruise. That is an engagement mark. Care to explain to me how I left you alone for one second and you got yourself engaged to a divine beast?”

Your face pales. “Excuse me?”

“That snake is going to come and claim you as his bride.”

“As a bride?” Your head spins and you have to sit down. You’re too young to get married. You look up at Gojo, teary-eyed. You don’t want this.

“Stop making that face,” he snaps, pushing a hand over your face to hide it. “As if I would let that happen. The master of the Yaga shrine, my master, could never be wed to a mere snake.”

If Gojo says he won’t let it happen, you can put your faith in him. You breathe a little easier. As mean as he can be, Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t lying when they called him the best familiar. He’s the strongest and most capable person or rather, yokai, that you know. There’s not a single task you set for him that he hasn’t been able to complete.

It’s still raining when you go outside to practice your talisman making.

You find the weather quite pleasant, even though it’s a little damp. The chill in the air cuts through the muggy feeling of summer, and the raindrops cool your cheeks. When you turn your face up to the sky, you can taste ozone in the little drops that pelt your face.

“You’re very beautiful, kamisama,” says a voice.

There's a man waiting just outside the red gates. A supplicant? In this weather? You better get him inside in a hurry. You dash over to him.

“What are you doing? Come inside, you’ll get wet!”

Just as you reach him, he lifts his face. He looks like a statue, with high cheekbones, and solemn eyes. His hair is the same pale yellow as the snake you saw earlier that day-

“Gojo!”

But it’s too late.

The snake has a hold on your wrist, right above the engagement mark. He takes you away.

One moment, you’re standing in your own backyard, the next, you’re surrounded by almost-familiar bamboo walls. It looks like your shrine but for little distinguishing touches. That makes you uncomfortable.

“This is Haibara shrine,” the snake says. “I’m Nanami, the familiar of Haibara-sama. I’ve taken you away to marry you.”

There’s a curtain over the center of the room. Haibara presumably rests behind it, but something strikes you as off about the whole scenario. That’s not what’s foremost on your mind, however.

“I don’t want to marry you! You kidnapped me!”

He tilts his head at you. “I couldn’t have kidnapped you. We’re engaged, you see?” He traces the mark on your wrist with one slim finger. “We’re going to be very happy together.”

“You’re being creepy,” you push him away.

At your rejection, something dark crosses over his features - not danger, but pain. He has some nerve feeling upset when you’re the one who should be upset here!

“That’s alright,” he says, trying to stroke your hair. You won’t let him touch you. “I know it can take some getting used to. Here, let me show you to your room.”

Nanami has clearly put a lot of thought into decorating for you. It’s beautifully furnished, with rich silk sheets and the fragrant smell of plum blossoms permeating the air. Here, there’s not a single thing you could want but-

Gojo.

You miss Gojo and you miss your shrine.

When Nanami leaves you in your room, it feels like a tomb in the silence. You bury your face in your expensive, hateful sheets and try to resist the urge to sob. You want Gojo to come get you. You want to go home.

Hours pass, but Gojo doesn’t come.

Nothing but the sound of your breathing changes, passing from frantic to deeper, slower, steadier. As your head clears, you notice the window. It’s a beautifully ornate design, a red knot of luck. The center is just big enough for a girl to squeeze through, if you try hard.

Resolve grips you.

You’re not going to wait for Gojo to rescue you. You’re going to get out of here yourself, find him, and scold him for not coming to get you earlier. Aren’t you his most beloved master, as he so professes? You’re going to make him kneel for at least three hours practicing his apologies!

Filled with renewed conviction, you hoist yourself onto the window sill and begin the tedious task of shimmying yourself out. Just when you’re nearly there, the sharp edge of the metal scrapes your shin, leaving a long, thin cut.

The smell of salt replaces the plums immediately.

“God?” Comes Nanami’s voice. “I smell blood. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You panic. If he discovers your escape attempt now, he might try to put you in a more secure room, and then you’ll really never see Gojo again.

The adjacent wall caves in.

Gojo stands in the rubble, seething, each hand wreathed in blue flame. He doesn’t even notice you, his attention wholly focused on Nanami. “You drew her blood? Are you prepared to face the consequences of hurting my master, snake?”

You grab his arm just before he attacks. “He didn’t! I hurt myself on the window- oof!”

Gojo’s so much bigger than you are. When he folds you into his arms, his entire body surrounds you. His chin tucks itself over your head, his large arms wrap around your body. You’ve never felt more secure than you are here, now. “I thought you’d be crying.”

His voice is hoarse.

You’ve never heard that before.

“You came,” you whimper, burying your face into his shoulder.

Nanami’s face is crestfallen. “Are you going to leave me?”

You grab Gojo’s arm and duck into the other room, where Haibara’s curtain is.

“Don’t!” Nanami cries.

When you pull it back, there’s nothing but an old, dusty kimono.

You were right.

This place is godless.

“You’re no familiar,” Gojo snarls, turning on Nanami. “Don’t even think to call yourself that. The difference between you and me is as clear as day, you vile beast. You’ll pay for your insolence with the loss of your shrine.”

Nanami’s misery is written all over his face. You’ve realized what’s wrong with this shrine. It’s too quiet, as if no one has prayed here for generations. Haibara has been dead for a long, long time.

Nanami must have been lonely.

“Don’t,” you tell Gojo.

He stares at you, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?”

You tug yourself out of Gojo’s arms. Nanami’s crouched on the ground, trying to shield Haibara’s old kimono from Gojo’s foxfire. You kneel to his level.

“I’m sorry you’ve been lonely for all this time, Nanami. I can’t stay with you, but if you come to my shrine, we can play again.”

Nanami weeps and reaches for your hand. The mark of the snake dissolves.

Gojo doesn’t talk to you on the way back to the shrine.

“Don’t be mad,” you say, tugging on the sleeves of his kimono. He gives you a deadpan stare. “Come on! I only did it because-”

You can’t finish your sentence.

Of course, that piques Gojo’s interest. He can never resist bullying you.

“Because? Go on,” he goads you.

You say it so quietly he can’t hear you, even with his fox ears. He spins around, grabs you by the waist, and hoists you up so you’re face to face. You yelp and scramble to grab onto his shoulders for balance.

“Louder,” he demands. “I can’t hear you.”

“I was thinking about what would happen if I died and you were all alone again. I couldn’t leave him alone because I was thinking of you,” you tell him. Thinking of Gojo watching after an empty shrine all alone like Mizuki makes your heart ache for reasons you can’t explain.

He stiffens. “What a strange thing to worry about. I wouldn’t care.”

“Ugh,” you smack him in the shoulder. You shouldn't have tried to be kind to him.

He doesn’t put you down, shifting you into an easier hold. “You’re hurt,” he admonishes when you try to squirm.

Just before you enter the shrine gates, he has a confession of his own to make. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You got hurt because I wasn’t protecting you.”

You rub his ears, an indulgence you’re not sure he would’ve allowed if he wasn’t in such a mood. “It’s not your fault!”

“I’ve never had a human master,” he says. “I have to be careful not to break you. You’re so easily hurt.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” you say, and then the shrine spirits are there to welcome you home.

You hadn’t realized you thought of the shrine as home until today.

Even though Nanami’s mood isn’t affecting the weather anymore, it’s still raining. Gojo tells you not to mind the weather, even though you’re certain that it’s not from natural causes, which means it is your job. Ever since you came back from Haibara’s shrine, Gojo has been extra protective of you.

You hadn’t thought Gojo had needed to be protected too, not until the thunder god came.

The god of storms and lightning is called Getou Suguru. He carries a mallet in one hand that can transform whoever it touches into their younger forms, and he used to be Gojo’s best and only friend. He’s also the one who called a bounty on your head.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 8 months

Text

Self-Made Man

I wanna go back to Kentucky and shut down the state fair Visit my old teachers and tell 'em to take care I might take a whip instead of paying the plane fare I still remember the way there

Requested by the lovely @harlowcomehome

Artwork by me; please do not use for any reason

Jack was forever grateful for the city that made him. Louisville raised him when he was just a kid handing out his mixtapes in the hallways of Highland Middle School, and had his back as he became one of the biggest rappers in the world over the past couple of years. While a lot of rappers rep their hometown from afar, Jack returned to his birthplace with the intention of putting the city on his back and giving back to the community that accepted him with open arms.

Your relationship with Jack was getting serious, the two of you were practically living together five months into your relationship, and he knew he was ready to take the next step and invite you to visit his hometown. You were apprehensive to say the least, but agreed to his proposition. All you cared about was making a good impression with his family; you knew how much his family meant to him, and he rarely made big life decisions without their input. You felt like your relationship was dependent on this trip going well.

****

Ironically, Jack was nervous about this visit for the opposite reason. He really wanted his friends and family to make a good impression on you. He really wanted you to love Louisville as much as he did, because he saw the two of you settling down there together.

He figured if he could show you some of Louisville's landmarks and institutions around town, where some of his best memories were made, you would start to see the potential in the place he called home. He planned the whole day out, including a trip down memory lane to his favorite spots in the city.

It was only the first day and things were starting to go sideways; his mom had hogged most of the morning going through her stacks of scrapbooks over breakfast, all full of memories from Jack and Clay's childhood.

"Oh, this is one of my favorites!" Maggie handed you the photograph across the dining room table, of Jack standing in his canary yellow little league uniform, complete with high socks and baseball cap. "He was so nervous to play, he ended up running the wrong direction around the bases." Jack's face turned red as you let out a quiet chuckle, patting his leg in sympathy.

"Are you done embarrassing me, ma? We've already been through the baby books. Y/N has already been forced to look at my baby booty, and its not even 10am." He ran a nervous hand through his curls, shifting in his seat.

"What? Nothing she hasn't seen already, I'm sure." Maggie shrugged, slipping the photo back into the plastic protective sheet.

"Oh my god", Jack turned to you, his face pitiful, "If you care about me at all, we will leave right now."

****

You barely got a chance to slip on your shoes and say bye to Maggie and Brian as Jack was ushering you out to his car. He took a deep breath, taking his time to adjust his rear view mirror before looking at you. "I'm sorry about my mom. I told her to ease you into it, and for some reason she thought that meant showing you all of my elementary school photos."

You chuckled, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips, your hand cradling his face. "I loved it." you whispered, your gaze remaining on Jack's lips as you parted. "Yeah?", he teased, his hand slowly crawling up your thigh, brushing against your lower stomach. You nodded, running your fingers along his beard.

"How did I get so lucky to find you?" You could barely get the words out, Jack placing kisses along your jawline. "Well, I like to think it was just a stroke of luck. For you of course, not me." You gave him a smile, patting his cheek. "Now, tell me what you have planned for us today, babe."

"Well, baby girl, today, you're going to get the best tour from a true Louisville native, someone who knows this city like the back of his hand."

"Oh, is Urban joining us?" You stifled a laugh as Jack's face dropped. "Very funny. If you can't respect my knowledge of the River City, I guess you don't need this gift I got you." He reached behind his seat, pulling a plastic bag into his lap. "Thank you baby. You didn't have to get me anything." You pulled out a brown box, the inside containing an instant polaroid camera.

"I asked Urban to pick one out for you, since I know nothing about photography, but I thought it would be a good way to capture some of today." Jack explained, looking at your face for a response. The camera was about the size of your hand, and a bright baby blue, your favorite color. "It's perfect, Jack. I love it." You raised the camera to your face, snapping a quick pic of Jack's face. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the flash, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I can't give you a tour if you blind me, baby."

****

The first stop of Jack's unofficial tour of Louisville: Bloom Elementary School in the Highlands. School was out for the summer for a couple more weeks so you the grounds were empty. The two of you walked hand and hand to the playground, Jack leading you to the swings. He pushed you as you let your legs sway back and forth, feeling the breeze against your face.

"I had my first kiss back in 2nd grade with Becca Thompson on these swings." He slowed your swing, taking a seat next to you. "Oh really? Where is Becca now?" You teased, playfully pushing him away from you.

"Last I heard she was living out in Colorado or something with three kids." Jack messed with the hem of your jacket, running the zipper through his fingers. He stood up, pulling you to your feet. "I also had the best kiss of my life right here." He pointed to the ground, your gaze following his hand.

You rolled your eyes, placing your hands on your hips. "I thought this was a tour of Louisville, not Jack's conquests. Now what was this girls' name?" Jack crashed his lips with yours before you could get another word out, leaving you breathless. Your eyes were still closed when he stepped back, a smile creeping on his face as he watched you come back to reality. "Yeah, I was right. Definitely the best kiss of my life." You were truly dumbfounded for a second, but you couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're really something, Mr. Harlow. Say cheese." You held the camera up, pressing the button to memorialize what was also the best kiss of your life.

****

Your next stop: Book and Music Exchange on Bardstown Road.

"What up, Chris?" Jack greeted the owner as he walked behind you through the threshold of the retro book and music store. You browsed the aisles for a couple of your favorite books and records, noticing a couple copies of Jack's CDs among the other greats.

"I have something I wanna show you." Jack took your hand, leading you to the back of the store. You watched him as he searched with his fingers over the wood of the shelves, dropping to his knees when he realized it was no longer at eye level. He stopped at the last shelf in the very end of the book collection.

Carved into the woods were the words:

I'm gonna be the biggest rapper out of Louisville, (signed) JH

"We used to come here after school, and everyone would write their wish on the back of here." You grazed your fingers over the messy writing, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

"Oh Jack, what a dream come true."

He truly was a self-made man. Everything he had wished and worked for had come to fruition and you couldn't have been more proud of everything accomplished.

"I'm pretty sure it's magic." Jack whispered, standing back up. You snapped a picture of the words, smiling as the photo developed in your hands.

"Y/N, I have something I want to show you." You heard Chris call for you from the front of the store.

"Go, I'll be right there." Once you were out of sight, Jack pulled a pen out of pocket. He gently carved into the wood like he had done as a kid, relying on the wood to preserve his wish. Once he was done, he blew away the wood shavings, quietly reading the words back to himself.

Jack Harlow + Y/N Y/L/N Forever

"Don't forget, you're supposed to be magic, okay?"

****

The hours passed by quickly as Jack took you to a few more of his favorite spots:

Morris' Deli where you tried Ale 8 for the first time, and resolved that you just really weren't made for such a strong drink. "It'll put hair on your chest", Jack joked as he watched you choke on the liquid. Jack took a picture of you taking a bite of your first sandwich from the popular spot.

The 21C Museum Hotel, where you walked around the art exhibits in the lobby. "They change it every night, so its like the art moves around when you're not looking." Jack took you to the penthouse, where he got the inspiration to write 21C off of his sophomore album. You took a photo of Jack in front of the gold statue erected by the hotel's entrance.

"Jack, why aren't you stopping?", you asked as Jack barely slowed down in front of his old high school, keeping the car moving.

"I may or may not have graffitied the side of the school the night of my graduation. I haven't stepped foot in there since." He shielded his face from view as he picked up speed. You took a picture of the school's entrance through the window, the photo coming out blurry.

****

Your final stop on the Louisville tour: Big Rock Park, 15 minutes east of the heart of the city.

The park was packed with families having picnics and kids playing on the expansive grassy areas. Jack bought the both of you ice creams from a local vendor and you sat down in a shady area underneath a large oak tree.

"You've got something right here." Jack motioned on his face, pointing out a little bit of chocolate that was stuck to the side of your mouth. "Where?" You grabbed a napkin, attempting to wipe it away but having no luck.

"Here, I've got it." Jack's words trailed off as he wiped the chocolate off of your face with his thumb, cleaning his finger off on his jeans. "Thank you." You smiled, your fingers crawling towards Jack's hand, your fingers slowly intertwining. With your treats finished, Jack laid on his back, one arm propped behind his head. He pulled you down to lay against his chest.

"So, how did I do? Are you moving to Louisville now?" He knew he was pushing his luck by asking you flat out, but he thought he made a pretty convincing tour guide. You giggled, resting your chin on his chest as you pushed his curls out of his face.

"I've got to say, its growing on me." Jack chuckled, rubbing your back. "Growing on you, huh? I'll take it." You could his heart start to race as you laid your ear against his chest. You snapped a picture of Jack snoozing in the shade once he had closed his eyes.

****

Time had gotten away from you and the sun had set as you drove back to his parent's house. Jack pulled into the driveway, turning off the engine.

"I had a really good time, Jack. Thank you so much for showing me the place you love so much." You gave him a quick peck, but he wouldn't let you go, pulling you in by the back of your neck. "Come back here." You could feel his smile against your lips as he kissed you, Jack pulling your bottom lip into his mouth as he teased your skin with his fingers.

"We promised your mom we'd have dinner." Jack groaned, leaning his forehead against your chest. "I was gonna show you the best part of the tour. The part where you get to have car sex with Louisville's biggest rapper. It's exclusive, not everyone gets to do it." You chuckled, pushing him off of you.

"C'mon, the Prince of Louisville, I'm hungry."

****

After dinner, you spread your collected photos across the dining room, sharing details about your day with Maggie, Bryan and Clay. "I really had the best day, thank you so much for being so kind to me. I think I could really see myself living in Louisville one day." You slapped the table cheerfully, smiling at Jack. He couldn't even hide that he was beaming with happiness if he wanted to, squeezing your thigh.

"Yep, and once you move here you can find a guy so much better for you than Jack." Clay scooped the last of his chocolate cake that Maggie had made for dessert, into his mouth.

"You're lucky she's hear or I'd punch you." Jack threatened through gritted teeth, Clay sticking out his tongue at his brother to taunt him.

"Ok, enough. Not in front of company." Maggie scolded her sons, standing up from the table. "How about I get a picture of you to commemorate the day." You handed Maggie your camera, stepping into the living room. Jack wrapped his arms around you from the back, placing his hands on your stomach.

"Alright, say cheese." Maggie counted down from five, and snapped the picture. The camera whirred for a few seconds, spitting out an undeveloped polaroid. "Perfect."

"Can I help you with the dishes, Mrs. Harlow?", you asked, following Jack back into the dining room.

"Call me Maggie, hon, and yes, I would love your help. I'll be right back."

Maggie walked through the living room to the hall closet. She pulled out her box of scrapbooks, removing the top of the box. Rested on top was a brand new scrapbook, the words Jack and Y/N Harlow embossed on the front. She opened the book, flipping through the pages. She slipped the polaroid of the two of you in the plastic protector on a random page.

For now the book was empty, awaiting the many memories to come for you two. She closed the book, patting the top, tucking it in with the other scrapbooks and putting the box back in the closet.

Tag-List:

@jacks-daycare

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@katiaw2

@xangelonmyshoulderx

@thatonegirlthatlikesthings

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@itsyagirljaz

@hoodharlow

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jack harlow x reader #jackman harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic

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piichuu · 9 months

Text

♡ THE ONE AND ONLY CUPID - THE CAFE MEETING

the cafe that is newly opened near the jujutsu high school is swarming with people. there’s a long line to the cashiers and some are even growing frustrated by the time it takes for them to make their orders. the menu is filled with lots of different pastries and drinks, every drink having names that make you want to drink them all.

you have told maki what you want to order and is now sitting by a table together with yuta and panda while maki is still in the line together with toge, looking rather frustrated about the fact that they have barely moved an inch in five minutes.

“there’s a lot of people here,” you mention while looking around and yuta nods in agreement, watching as more and more people enter the small cafe. “it feels like all of tokyo is here,” he mumbles, causing panda to let out a chuckle.

maki looks over at the group of friends with a blank stare, causing all of them to laugh when they can see that she’s clearly irritated about having to stand in line and not get to sit down. she points her middle finger at them before turning to toge and saying something to him.

“look, y/n,” panda suddenly says, slightly pointing behind you which causes you to turn in your chair and notice the people who have just entered the cafe. fushiguro megumi together with his two friends, itadori yuji and nobara kugisaki. they all look around as they have just joined the large crowd of people and for a second, megumi’s gaze meets yours.

“are you kidding me,” you mumble while turning back around to face your friends. “i swear, someone has set this up because what are the odds?”

“well, it’s a new cafe so it feels like everyone would want to be here on opening day,” yuta says as he looks towards the new group of friends that have arrived. “but it’s weird that you’ve only started to see him more now after that post, it’s like it’s fate.” “shut up about fate.”

you look away from them and towards maki and toge who have also noticed what is going on. they both smile widely while giving you a thumbs up and now it’s your time to give them a blank stare, but your eyes quickly widen when seeing maki point almost right at you, once again causing you turn around to now notice that yuji is coming close with megumi and nobara trailing behind him.

“hi guys!” he says while waving at you and your friends. it isn’t often you hang out with one another, only when gojo arranges different kinds of events, but none of you barely ever speak to megumi as he often keeps to himself. “we didn’t know you guys would be here too!”

yuta smiles at them and waves back. “it seems like everyone is here, do you guys want to sit with us?” he asks, causing you to give him a stare but that goes unnoticed. yuji looks back at his friends, nobara nodding her head while megumi is looking away. “yeah, sure!”

the three of them all sit down, some more eager than others. you look down at your hands, not daring to meet megumi’s gaze after what was posted on the cupid account. if no one would have posted that, this wouldn’t feel as terrible as it currently does.

you sit in silence while the others talk to one another, barely listening to what they say as you can only focus on not looking up to accidentally meet megumi’s eyes, but eventually you do have to look up towards maki and toge as they finally arrive at the table with everything you ordered.

maki gives you a cupcake and the others what they ordered before looking at the first years. “hi, didn’t know you would be here,” she says before sitting down. “we wanted to see what it was like, but i should go order something, do you wanna come with me nobara?” yuji asks.

megumi immediately stands up together with yuji. “i’ll come with you,” he mumbles as the two of them walk off towards the long line. yuta looks at you with an awkward smile before you dig in on the cupcake, not wanting to even think about the current situation. why did megumi have to be here now of all times?

THREE | MASTERLIST | FIVE

PAIRING: fushiguro megumi x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: itadori yuji is behind the account “the one and only cupid” where others in tokyo can anonymously ship two people they think should get together. what happens when you’re suddenly shipped with fushiguro megumi whom you’ve never talked to before and why do you all of a sudden have to see him in the school hallway every single day?

WARNINGS: cursing, kms jokes

TAG LIST: @krissyoxox @kaitfae @kitorin @mysuperrainbow @tojirin @hanmasdolly @kasumitenbaz @yuzurins @tsukishimarawr @stardusthyuck @satoruskitchenrag @lvryeager @hellothere9597 @pumpkindudeishere @dailyghosting @chillichopsticks @jaynawayna @mave-in @hisheadismountfuji @whatamidoing89 @flwrdia

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deathc-re · 1 year

Text

Lemme take you home ; Shuri

warnings: wakanda forever spoilers, smut, tension, cursing, drinking, implied smoking, afab and fem presenting reader, ooc shuri but whatever. i actually tried to add some plot to this, yk have some shame but not too much bc who has time for that

wc: 1.2k

an: not my best and kinda rushed but i needed to get something out for this marvel of a woman. anyway tblr fucked up the quality of the edit, which is by @vsppuirem on tiktok

you walked into the party looking through the crowd. your friend had told you she was by the balcony but didn't specify which one in this massive house. it was a birthday party for one of those officials kids, so of course it was a block party meant to last well into the morning hours.your friend, hawa, ever the extrovert happened to be friends with said officials kid and forced you, ever the ambivert, to come as well. though you enjoyed a nice night in, why not shake some ass on a rich kids dining table?

wandering into the crowd you searched for your hawa's brightly colored wig but with no luck. with a sigh you walked over to the kitchen turned bar and looked at the kid in an apron.

"what can i get for you?" he asked, tossing a red solo into the trash.

"two shots please!" you yelled over the music.

he scoffed, "starting off the night strong huh?"

you leaned against the other side of the counter, cleavage in full view, and smiled at him.

"something like that."

quickly he pour you your shots and busied himself on the other side of the kitchen. you giggled and downed your shots, screwing your face as the burning liquid slid down your throat.

"is that who i think it is! you shoulda called!" hawa yelled behind you, throwing an arm on your shoulder.

"i did."

"oh."

you rolled your eyes and let her pull you through the crowd. leaving the bustling crowd behind, hawa brought you to a quieter section at the front of the house.

"hawa! your back!" exclaimed a girl sprawled out on a couch, head resting on the lap of a boy who seemed a little too out of it.

"and you brought a friend." you looked over to a chair on the wall of this little space and your heart almost dropped to your feet. it was princess- queen shuri in all her glory.

a glass of what seemed to be whiskey in her hand, moving in circles as her eyes trailed you. you swallowed your nerves and nodded towards the group, sitting down next to hawa.

"so," the girl on the couch started," who are you?"

"oh!" you chuckled. "i'm y/n, hawa's friend from primary school."

"wow, you've known each other a while. i'm nana, this is hasan and i'm sure you know who that is." she nodded toward shuri.

"yeah," you breathed, " it's nice to meet you all. especially you your highness."

"oh please, call me shuri. it's a party isn't it?" she sat back in her chair, placing her glass of whiskey on her upper thigh. your eyes were locked but oh how you wanted to let them roam.

you've had the biggest crush on the queen since you could remember. she was just a year older than you and lord has the crush matured as she has. those sharp features, those piercing eyes and lord those hands.

"of course...shuri." she smiled at you and took a sip of her drink, finally taking her eyes away from yours.

the group then fell into comfortable conversation but you could barely pay any attention. all you could think about was the queen right across from you, legs spread, arms crossed, with a bored look on her face. with every move she made it felt like a tighter grip around your airway. you never thought you'd get to meet her yet here you are, barely two feet away. and she's eyeing you like she wants to eat you alive.

"uh, i think i'm gonna go get myself a drink," you said, hoping to get a little bit of air.

"that's a great idea, i needed a refill anyway," shuri said, standing up and grabbing her now empty glass.

lovely, you thought.

the two of you made your way towards the bar, a not so comfortable silence around you.

"y'know," she started, "i hope my staring isn't making you uncomfortable. i just can't seem to take my eyes off you."

you chuckled and looked at her over your shoulder, "i could say the same to you shuri. i'm honored to see your beauty up close."

she was silent, and you thought you'd offended her some how until you felt slender fingers wrap around your wrist. you looked back, confusion written on your face, only for her to lean close to your ear.

"i can't take this anymore. let's just forget the drinks and you follow me, yeah?" the feeling of her breath on your ear, the urgency in her voice, the tight grasp on your wrist. you swallowed thickly and nodded.

it was a blur up until this point but now you were face to face with the queen of your country and you've never been more aware of how you're feeling. she leaned against the door and locked it, slowly, sensually. she was staring but didn't move an inch. almost as if she was waiting, or scared.

wordlessly you hopped up onto the counter, mini dress riding up to expose perfect thighs. like that she was between your legs, soft lips crashing into yours like waves on a beach. your hands found their way to her jaw, her hands found their way to your waist. the two of you moved in sync. needy for something, anything that let you be ever closer to one another. reluctantly you pulled apart with a huff, lungs stinging and core aching.

"take those off." shuri commanded, eyes locked onto your exposed lace. the twinkle in her eye made you resist a moan. without shame, you shimmed out of your underwear and tossed it towards the sink. she let out a shaky breath then looked up at you with a cocky smile. grabbing hold of your ankles she pulled you to the very edge of the counter and squatted down.

you weren’t prepared for how quickly she dived into your cunt. tongue taking a large sweep, drinking up all your juices. she grabbed hold of your thighs and tossed a look at you before getting lost in the world between your legs.

she licked at your folds,tongue thrusting inside your sex with manic vigor. like clock work she alternated between your swollen bud and quivering heat; while still taking the time to look up at you. enjoying the look of pleasure on your face. as you got closer and closer to the edge your legs couldn’t help but clamp shut.

shuri let out a hum of surprise before attacking your cunt more feverishly. you could barely control your moans of pleasure as dots began to fill your vision.

“shit- shit! shuri baby i’m close!” you cried, hands grabbing hold of her hair. that only seemed to encourage her and with a look of mischief in her eye she gently bit down on your clit, sending you over the edge. a low moan erupted from your throat, legs all but strangling shuri as you road out your high.

“that was good.” you chuckled, pulling her into your chest for a messy kiss. you could taste yourself on your lips and that only re-tightened the coil in your stomach.

“so i’m told.” she smiled. “so how about you put these back on and we go somewhere where we can have some real fun?”

slipping into your discarded lace you looked up at her, “like where?”

“how about you lemme take you home. would that make you happy princess?”

#[moon's mind]#black panther wakanda forever #wakanda forever #wakanda forver spoilers #shuri #queen shuri #shuri smut #shuri x reader #shuri x f!reader #afab reader #reader insert #black panther fic #mcu shuri #letitia wright #shuri x you

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leelei1980 · 8 months

Text

Loving Mr.Munson:

Hawkins High Reunion part 2

Dilf!Eddiexreader

🛑Mature Content- Smut Warning- 18+Minors DNI🛑

Tw: P in V ( wrap before you tap!) oral- male receiving and a wee bit of violence.

Taglist: @tlclick73 @fairymunson @micheledawn1975 @elegantkoalapaper @goth-cowgirl-03 @veemoon @hideoutside @retrorage86 @bmunson86

One hour. One hour until Eddie's reunion. One hour until you see his old high school, his old classmates that harassed him and one hour until you saw the girl that Eddie secretly pined for throughout High School. Chrissy Cunningham, Chrissy Cunningham Carver to be exact. She was the picture perfect cheerleader, that dated the star athlete- captain of the basketball team and swim team, Hawkins high star Quarterback-Jason Carver, aka Eddie's arch nemesis. Jason Carver hated Eddie in high school, hated him because he had long hair, listened to metal, played Dungeons and Dragons and maybe sold a few drugs to party going teenagers, or teenagers looking to forget about life for a little while. And when the most popular kid in the school paints a target on your back, it isn't long before other kids follow suit and before you know it you are the town freak. It hurt your heart to hear Eddie recount his high school experiences, but he just shrugged it off. Despite all of the horrible things that happened, there were more good memories than bad, he had made life long friends that supported each other through thick and thin and that was what was important.

It was evident this morning that Eddie was nervous about seeing his classmates again, it wasn't until you met up with Eddie's Uncle Wayne at Benny's diner for breakfast that you started to see his nervousness dissipate.

" I'm going to tell you right now boy," Wayne said over a steamy cup of coffee," That not one of those judgmental assholes grew up to do anything spectacular with their lives. A majority of them stayed right here in this shitty little town. That asshole Carver kid,sells cars at a dealership just outside of Indianapolis , and his little dickhead friends- a lot of them work at the Plant that I retired from. The most successful people to ever come out of this town are all the kids you hung out with." Wayne stabbed at an egg while we watched Eddie shuffle around his pancakes on his plates. " Eddie, Son, I can't tell you how proud I am to have you as my boy. You weren't perfect, you did a lot of stupid shit , but you learned from it.You were a young single dad that barely had a pot to piss in, you worked hard, damn hard and raised that kid in a loving home. You started your own successful business, you got your son a college education, he's still a dumbass but he has a degree. "

Eddie chuckled. " I know I've got a lot going for me-"

" Because you worked your damn ass off! Walk into that school gymnasium with your head held high."

You smiled. " Damn Uncle Wayne, your good. You should have been a motivational speaker! I know who I am going to for my next pep talk!"

A smile spread across his weathered face. " Thanks Darlin, oh and please,call me Wayne." He sipped his coffee." It's because I'm old as hell and I've seen some shit in my day. You gotta make the most of what you've got." He snickered." Motivational speaker I am not, especially since the older I get the crankier and more opinionated I get. And I'm pretty sure I would get fired for calling someone a dumbass."

Both you and Eddie laughed.

" So Wayne, have you seen this Chrissy chick? Did she really let herself go after high school?"

It was Wayne's turn to laugh." You don't have anything to worry about Darlin. Your about as pretty as they come."

You turn to Eddie and raise your eyebrows, " What is it with you Munson men and your charm? You better watch out Eddie, it might be time for me to upgrade to Wayne."

Eddie just about choked on his juice and Wayne dropped his fork and laughed.

" You may look sweet but you got a lot of sass in you girlie, I knew it the first time I met ya."Wayne said through chuckles. " You two are meant to be together, two peas in a pod. Both full of piss and vinegar. " he pointed at you."I bet you're a real handful."

You watched Eddie wipe at his face with a napkin, smirking." Oh, you have no idea."

*************************************

You wanted to look your best for him, you wanted to feel worthy of walking in on the arm of the Sexiest man in Hawkins, in the world. The invitation had said semi-formal, so you had gone out and bought the classiest but sexiest dresses you could find. Your roommate had helped you narrow it down to a black strapless satin dress that flared at the waist or a form hugging red lace off the shoulder dress that showed off all of your best assets. You went with the latter. Eddie loved your body, worshipped your body, made you feel more confident in your own skin. You never would have worn a dress as sexy as this before, you would have been self conscious of your hips, your breasts,your ass, but you knew that Eddie loved those things about you, and seeing you in this dress was going to drive him crazy. And with sexy red lacy lingerie on underneath he was going to go even crazier seeing you out of it.

You had kicked him out of the bathroom after a steamy shower together, so that you could prepare. You blow dried and curled your long silky hair, fussed over your makeup and slid into your sexy red lace. You looked at yourself in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, ran your hands over the tight fitting dress and smiled. Yup, he was going to go crazy.

You slowly opened the door and peeked out and your breath caught in your throat. There he stood in a black fitted suit, with a black button down shirt on underneath, and a black tie that at first glance had what looked like little white flowers but upon further examination you realized they were really skull and crossbones. Typical Eddie. The way that his suit was tailored it emphasized his broad shoulders, his trim waist and his tight ass. The suit fit him like a dream. And to top it all off he had his wavy lock's pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. The sight of him alone made your heart pound , your body hum, you wanted him so badly. It was going to be a long night, him looking so absolutely delicious and you had to wait till the end of the night to touch him.

" Wow," was all you could manage to get out.

Eddie turned at the sound of your voice and his jaw dropped. " Holy Fuck."

He took a couple of long strides toward you, eyes slowly feasting on the sight of you." Goddamn Sweetheart, you look absolutely stunning. Just so fucking beautiful." He wrapped you up in his arms. " That dress, your hair, your body, it's just, your just-"

" Why Edward Munson, you seem a bit flustered." You smiled up at him, sliding your hands down past his waist and squeezing his ass.

" A bit flustered? Just a bit? " Eddie leaned forward and nipped at your lower lip, then kissed your jaw, your throat, you could feel goosebumps on your skin under his warm lips. " You shouldn't have worn this dress Sweetheart." He mumbled into your neck.

" And why is that?"

" Because I'm not going to be able to think about anything other than what I'm going to do to you when I take it off."

You felt your body get hot." It's going to be equally as painful for me not being able to put my hands all over you. You are, damn sexy Mr. Munson."

Eddie growled." Do we really have to go now? Why can't we just stay in and I can tie you up to the bed with my necktie and I can fuck you into oblivion." He grazed your shoulder with his teeth and lightly bit down and it made you shiver.

" That sounds absolutely amazing, but Baby, your friends are counting on us to be there. And look at you- you look so fucking gorgeous, I want everyone to see what a sexy motherfucker you are now."

Eddie sighed and kissed you one last time." Alright, but when we get back tonight Darling-"

" I will be ready with open arms and open legs."

Eddie chuckled. " I can't wait to collect my reward at the end of the night."

You squeezed his ass with both hands and he pressed himself against you. God, you wanted him. " Ok, ok, we really need to get going." You said more to yourself than Eddie. Sadly you let go of him and ran into the bathroom and looked yourself over one more time. Your skin was still flush from his kisses. You decided last minute to throw on some shiny red lip gloss , perfect finishing touch. You zipped it into your small wristlet for touch ups later and stepped into your heels.

" Will you stop already? Every fucking time you walk out of that room you continue to get hotter. Red fucking lipstick? Red heels?"

You smiled coquettishly." I need to look worthy of being on your arm Edward."

" No one is going to be looking at me Sweetheart. " Eddie smirked and pulled something out of his suit jacket pocket." I, uh got you a little something. I hope you like it. I knew that you were going to be dressing up-" he handed you a little velvet box. "Open it!"

You smile and flip the lid of the box open. Inside was a beautiful diamond pendant with matching earrings. "Baby, you didn't have to do this!"

Eddie smiled and took the box from your hand, gently taking out the necklace and clasping it around your neck. It was perfect. " I wanted to. I wanted to show you how much I care for you, love you and besides, it is our three month anniversary."

You ran the pendant along the thin sliver chain. " It's beautiful, I love it. I love you." You lightly pecked his lips mindful of the bright red gloss on your lips. " I don't have anything for you I didn't know we were celebrating month anniversaries -"

" Princess, you have already given me so much, you have given me your love,your affection, your touch. I don't need anything, just you." He smiled a special smile at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, dimples deep in his cheeks.

" Eddie! Your going to make me cry! Your so incredibly sweet!"

" Don't cry babe, you'll ruin your makeup."

You smile and give him a hug. " I love you."

" I love you too angel. " he kissed the top of your head." Why don't you put those diamonds in your pretty little ears and we'll head out to see if Jason fucking Carver has any hair left on is big fucking head."

************************************

You could feel the nervousness rolling off of Eddie as you sat in his car in the parking lot waiting for Steve, Nancy and Robin to show up.

" It's going to be fine baby." You reached over and rubbed his knee and watched as the bouncing subsided.

" I am so fucking nervous. Just looking at the school, so many fucking memories."

" Nancy told me about your lunch time rants." You smirked." I say if they are all a bunch of assholes you jump up on a table, flip them all off and say Adios Fuckers!"

Eddie laughed." That is definitely something I could do." He put his hand over yours and squeezed it. " Why am I so fucking nervous? Like we are adults now right?"

You both looked up as Steve Harrington pulled into a parking spot across from where the two of you were parked.

Eddie sighed," Here goes nothing."

You both got out of the car and walked over to Steve's SUV.

" Holy Shit Munson, look at you! I've got to say, you clean up real nice. I half expected you to show up in your ripped jeans and leather jacket." Steve joked.

" Yeah well the invite said semi- formal."

" Oh no,it can't be, I don't believe it, but is thee Eddie Munson conforming to society's rules?" Robin teased.

Eddie shook his head and smiled."Shut the fuck up Buckley."

Robin smiled and clapped her hands together. "And there he is, there's our boy!"

Nancy smiled at you."You guys make a very handsome couple."

" I mean we knew you would look great-" Steve nodded to you." But Munson here, is like a Cinderella transformation. Tattered, torn clothes to slick suit."

" Your all a pain in my ass." Eddie smirked.

" But you aren't as nervous now are ya?" Robin pat him on the back.

" No."

" Well let's go people! We aren't getting any younger!" Steve clapped his hands together then started towards the door.

Robin was jittering with excitement, and Eddie slid an arm protectively around your waist.

When you reached the double doors you stopped and turned to Eddie. " Are you ready Baby? "

Eddie drew in a deep breath." As ready as I'll ever be."

" Your amazing Baby, remember that. Your going to blow them away."

He took both your hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing your knuckles." I'm glad your here, thank you for coming Princess."

" Of course! Now come on, I want to show you off. Those bitches are going to be so jealous."

Eddie chuckled and we walked through the doors.

Steve was already chatting away, the social butterfly of the group, and though he had graduated one year earlier he still knew everyone. Nancy pressed on her ' Nancy Wheeler- Harrington' name tag that also had her adorable senior picture on it. The woman had not changed one single bit over the years.

Robin checked in as well , her tag had a picture of her in her band uniform on it. She laughed, turning back to face you."Look at this nerd!"

" You were so cute in that hat!" You smiled.

When Eddie stepped up to the table the woman sitting behind blinked up at him.

" I'm, uh, Eddie-"

" Eddie Munson? Wow." She looked at him with a surprised look on her face. "I wasn't expecting to see you here, you've really changed."

" Yeah ,well, I grew up." He stood there patiently waiting for his name tag.

You watched as she ogled him for another minute then you cleared your throat." Oh look Eddie, I see your name tag!" You pointed to where it lay on the table before you." Heather? It's Heather, right? Can I just grab this?"

" Oh, yeah!" She blinked, then handed you the name tag. It had Eddie's senior picture on it and it was so freaking cute.

You peeled the backing off and lightly pressed it onto Eddie's chest. " There you go Edward Munson."

" Why thank you Sweetheart." He took your hand and the two of you followed the Harrington- Buckley group down the hall and into the gymnasium. The high school was small, smaller than the one that you had attended, and in a small town like Hawkins you could see how easily it could be for everyone to know everything about one another and how everyone would be in everyone else's business. Kids could be absolutely brutal.

" This place still looks and smells the same, like books, sweat and teenage tears."Eddie chuckled, eyes wondering the hall to the open double doors. You could see streamers and balloons and hear music faintly playing.

" Holy shit, they decorated it to look like it did for the Prom of 86!" Nancy smiled.

" I never would have known, because I wasn't cool enough to go to the Prom of 86." Eddie snickered as we walked in. The gymnasium was packed with people, hugging and looking at posters and catching up. You lightly ran your hand up and down Eddie's back as you watched those intense eyes scan the room.

Eddie pulled you close and whispered, pointing." He was an asshole, he was an asshole, she was an asshole- that kid there, he was cool- I used to sell him weed."

You smiled." But the real question is, do you see Carver?"

" I haven't seen him-"

" Eddie.Fucking. Munson. Is that you?"

Eddie whipped around to the sound of a male voice behind him. " Holy Shit!Jeff?" A smile slowly spreading across his face. " No fucking way!"

Jeff, this was Corroded Coffin and Hellfire Club Jeff.

" What the hell have you been up to man? It's been forever!"

" Ah you know, life. I have a son, Robbie, I'm a Mechanic- I own my own shop where I repair and restore foreign and vintage cars-"

" That's fucking cool man." Jeff shook his head." I can't believe your here."

" I can't believe I'm here. Harrington and Buckley told me about it, my girlfriend talked me into coming." Eddie gestured from you to Jeff."Sweetheart , Jeff, Jeff,Sweetheart."

Jeff shook my hand." Nice to meet you."

You smile." Nice to meet you too! Now you were in Hellfire and Corroded Coffin with Eddie right?"

" That's right. I grew up with this kid." Jeff pat Eddies shoulder.

" What have you been up to?"

" I'm married, unfortunately my wife couldn't make the trip, I have 2 kids, a boy and a girl, I work with computers, I'm just an old fuck with a dad bod now." He pat his stomach than pointed to Eddie. " This son of a bitch went the opposite way, dude your in better shape now than you were in high school, you bastard."

Eddie laughed." I was a scrawny little Fucker. Man, I'm so glad I ran into you here. I was kind of dreading it. Have you heard from the other Coffin guys?"

You turned and scoped the room while Eddie chatted with his friend, Eddie was one hundred percent the best looking man in the room, though you had to admit Steve wasn't bad to look at either. You watched as Nancy and Robin huddled close clearly whispering about former classmates. You decided to take a little stroll around the gymnasium, check out the photos and memory walls that were scattered about. You squeezed Eddies arm lightly and mouthed that you were going to wander about and he smiled and winked at you.

It was fun to look at the fashion, the hairstyles of the people in the photos, look around the room and see if you could match up any of the faces in the photos with the faces in the room. You got to a large picture and stopped. It was a picture of Eddie, in all his glory, playing his guitar in the talent show. His head was thrown back, foot up on his amp and it looked like his fingers were flying up the fretboard. He was so fine. You had yet to see him play his guitar in real life, but after seeing these pictures... You couldn't wait to show him this.

The next photograph was Prom king and queen 1986- Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham. You studied the picture. Chrissy was for sure a beautiful girl, small and petite,long blonde hair , and blue eyes, and if you hadn't known what an asshole Jason was you might have thought that he was cute too. Athletic build, again blonde hair and blue eyes. The picture perfect couple.

" Ahh, the good old days, it seems like it was a million years ago." You heard a quiet female voice behind you. You turned and there before you was Chrissy Carver. She looked the same, just older, slight crows feet at the corners of her eyes, body a little fuller but she was still in great shape. She smiled at you and extended her hand, "Hi, I'm Chrissy, Carver, and you are? First of all too young to be part of the class of 86." She chuckled.

You smiled and lightly shook her hand and introduced yourself. " Definitely not class of 86, but I'm here with my boyfriend, he was class of 86. I was just admiring his picture." You gestured to the picture of Eddie.

Her eyebrows furrowed." Your here with Eddie Munson? He's here?" Her eyes darted around the room.

" Yes he's here, in fact," you scanned the room and caught his eye, he smiled. You waved for him to come over." He is coming over as we speak. "

You watched her jaw drop, her eyes wander over him as he closed the distance between you.You could see his eyes widen as he realized who you were standing with.

" He was so nervous about coming, you know because of everything that happened in high school, sounds like he was treated like shit."

Chrissy shook her head." I'm afraid it's true, I never quite understood it. He was always so nice and kind to me, it was my husband-"

Eddie had finally reached us." Hello ladies, " he kissed your cheek and slid an arm around your waist. " Chrissy, nice to see you."

She stared at him eyes wide." Eddie, you look fantastic. I can't believe your here."

" I figured it was time to come back, the Harrington's persuaded me to come, and it was a good excuse to come visit my Uncle."

" I'm glad you came back. You just kind of disappeared after high school."

" No, I was here- everyone was just caught up in their own lives to notice. It's fine. I'm sure no one cared what happened to me, everyone hated me-"

" I didn't hate you Eddie, I thought you were sweet-"

" You were always nice to me, I appreciated that. " Eddie nodded. " Life got real complicated for me after graduation. I became a Father, like right after high school, had to work a lot to support my son, his mom left so I had to raise him on my own. Wayne, my friends, were amazing. It was hard, but I made it. For as much of a fuck up as I was in high school, I turned out alright . I own my own business, an auto restoration shop,put my kid through school, found myself an amazing woman, I've got a lot to be proud of. I wanted to come back and show everyone that they were wrong about me." He smirked and pulled you closer.

" Sounds like you did alright for yourself Eddie-"

" Holy shit it's the Freak."

You felt Eddie's body tense for a second then relax as you squeezed him.

Jason Carver walked through the crowd looking cocky and arrogant and to your amusement , old. He was no longer the Prom king that you had seen in the photo, with the perfect hair and athletic build. His hair was slightly thinning and he had a beer gut. You smirked to yourself. Time had not been as good to Jason Carver as it had been to Eddie. Karma is a bitch.

Chrissy's face turned red. " Jason, Honey," she started as if pretending that she hadn't heard him call Eddie a Freak." You remember Eddie Munson?"

Jason smirked." How could I forget the Freak of Hawkins High? "

Eddie just shook his head and smirked." I see some things haven't changed Carver , your still an Asshole. I was hoping you would grow out of it."

Chrissy, clearly embarrassed by her husband's actions tried to change the subject." Jason, Eddie works with cars too. He owns a shop-"

" Grease monkey? Seems fitting." Jason said smugly. What a fucking dick.

" And what is it you do?" You asked. Jason then turned his attention on you, looking you over a slow smile spreading across his face. " I run a car dealership just outside of Indianapolis, a big outfit, I've been salesman of the year last five years." He said , proud of himself.

You gave him an amused smile." Must be your sparkling personality. " You heard Eddie chuckle."I'm surprised that they don't see through your phony facade, see your inner douchebag. Good for you for keeping that shit hidden."

Jason's smile faded." Your a real class act Sweetheart."

You felt Eddie stir beside you, but you squeezed his hand." I'd say the same for you. You clearly peaked in high school, you still obviously think you're the shit. Your middle aged man that should know better and yet your still a fucking bully." You watched his face falter.

Jason took one step closer." You don't know shit. Your just going to stand there, Munson ,and let her fight your battles for you."

Eddie shook his head." I didn't come here for a fight Carver. Your the one that can't move on." Eddie looked down at you and smirked, " and to answer your question, no, I don't need her to fight my battles, but to be perfectly honest with you, she's doing one hell of a good job."

" Your a coward, always running away,"

" I'm an grown ass man that doesn't feel that it is necessary to fight, Jason."

Chrissy tugged on Jason's arm." Come on Honey, I want to show you this poster of us-"

" We are kind of in the middle of something here ."

Eddie glanced over at Chrissy. " We aren't in the middle of anything. As far as I am concerned this discussion is over."

You looked at Chrissy, who still looked mortified. " You are a Saint for putting up with his shit. You seem so sweet, I truly hope he treats you better than he treats everyone else."

Eddie drew you in close." Come on Doll, let's go for a walk."

You smile up at him." I'd love that."

You heard Jason mumbling under his breath as the two of you walked away.

" Hey, you guys aren't leaving yet are you?" Harrington asked as you walked past a table where he and Nancy and Robin sat.

" No, just had a little run in with fucking Carver, just need to get out of here for a few, going to give my girl the grand tour."

" I can't believe I missed it! You had it out with Jason, and I missed it?"

" You didn't miss much, but I'll tell you what, my sweet Princess here, she is a fucking sniper with words. She took Jason down a couple of notches in mere seconds." He kissed you on the top of the head.

" Just gave him a taste of his own medicine." You smiled.

" Shit, I would have loved to see that!" Steve shook his head.

" That's what you get for being so popular Harrington, Mr. Social butterfly." Robin smirked.

Eddie took my hand." We'll be back guys." He gave them a little wave then then pulled you out into the hallway.

" I'm going to show you my favorite hangouts in this god forsaken school." He wandered down the corridor, " There is the Cafeteria, where I sat with Hellfire and jumped on tables , ranting about whatever was on my mind. My friends loved it, the jocks hated it and the lunch ladies were sick of my shit and probably had a party the day I actually graduated because they knew they wouldn't have to deal with that again." Eddie smiled and we peeked inside. " Our table was over by that window there." He pointed then squeezed your hand." So moving on-". He pulled you further down the hallway then stopped." This was my locker. Mostly home to the homework I didn't do,doodles I drew in class and my lunchbox full of pot that I would sell to kid's after school in the woods behind the football fields."

You loved watching him reminisce, it made you smile. He showed you the library, the auditorium and last but not least, the drama room.

" This is where we would have all of our Hellfire meetings. I would put blood, sweat and tears into those campaigns. We spent so many hours in this room."Eddie reached for the doorknob, gave it a turn and to our surprise we heard a click and the door opened." No fucking way. I can't believe they left this door unlocked." He looked down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear than he stepped inside tugging me in. He flipped the light switch and closed the door. He chuckled." Holy shit, it looks the same! I can't fucking believe it," he jogged over to the corner of the room. This room must have been filled with props from the last 30 years worth of school plays. You watched as he moved a few fake boulders out of the way then dragged forward what appeared to be a throne.

" I sat in this chair at the head of a table for every single campaign. It was my "privilege " as Dungeon Master of Hellfire to sit on this throne." He sighed then slowly sank into it. A slow smile spread across his face." I had my folders and maps and guidebooks, and strategy guides all set up in front of me. Some of the best nights of my high school life were spent right here in this chair." He leaned back,legs spread apart, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. You gulped, Jesus Christ, did he look sexy.

" Sooo, some of the best moments of your life were spent here in this room, in that chair?" You smirked.

Eddie raised his eyebrows at you. "Chair? This is not simply a chair Sweetheart, it was my throne."

" Oh sorry." You turned and walked to the door, slowly turning the lock, trying to be as quiet as possible.

" What are you doing Princess?" Eddie smiled amused.

Your lips turned up into a mischievous smile, and you flipped off the light switch. The room went dark for a moment and then some dim emergency lighting came on." Oh Dungeon Master," You started ,walking slowly across the room, reaching behind you and lowering the zipper of your dress. "Would thou bestow upon me the honor, the privilege, of joining you on your throne and perching upon your lap?" You step out of your dress as soon as the lace hits the floor. You stood before Eddie in your red lace push up bra ,barely there red lace thong and your heels.

" Fuck. " He leaned forward resting his forearms on his thighs." You have no idea what you are doing to me right now Sugar."

The lighting was dim but you could see exactly what you were doing to him. The look on his face, a look of pure, raw lust, his eyes fixed on you, your body.

" What am I doing to you Eddie?" You asked running your hand over your chest.

He sat back on the throne, running a hand slowly over his face." You called me fucking Dungeon Master, Sweetheart." He loosened the tie around his neck.

" I did." You took a couple steps closer, you could hear his breath hitch, then in an instant he reached out and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you onto his lap.

Eddie buried his face in your neck, began kissing and nibbling your skin. "Your driving me fucking insane." He whispered, biting your earlobe.

You gasped." I haven't even started yet baby."

He moaned. " Can you feel what you're doing to me right now? Can you feel how fucking hard I am?"

You most definitely could. You finished untying his necktie and threw it to the floor, unbuttoned his suit coat ,than you ran your hands up his chest to his broad shoulders and slid the jacket down behind his back." Your so fucking sexy." You breathed. You saw his breathing quicken as you slowly started to unbutton his shirt. When you finally reach the bottom you tug at it to release it from his trousers and open it wide revealing his inky , taut body beneath. God you wanted him so badly.

You lightly ran your perfectly manicured nails lightly down his chest, you saw him shiver and it made you smile. "What's the matter Baby?"

" Your fucking teasing me, I'm about to lose my goddamn mind." He reached out and cupped your face in his hand, slowly running his thumb over your full lips. You lightly bit it and drew it into your mouth and he groaned.

" Fuuck-" he threw his head back and you pounced. You kissed his neck, throat , chest , slithering your way down his body until you were between his legs, on your knees before him. You worked quickly at his belt, his pants, pulling and tugging until they were down on the floor and finally his cock was free. You locked eyes with him , licked the tip then slowly took him into your mouth.

" Jesus Christ Princess, f- fuck," he stuttered as you bobbed your head, back and forth , slowly taking him fully in,running your tongue along the underside of his penis,swirling then pulling off with a pop. You kitten licked the tip, lapping at him,then running your tongue along his shaft.The moans spilling from his mouth were making your panties wet.

" You look so fucking gorgeous with your pretty mouth around my cock. Fu- fuck."

You pulled back, switching to your hand , slowly stroking as you looked directly into his gorgeous eyes." Do you want more, my darling Mr.Munson? "

"Mmmmmm.-" he said , biting his lip.

" I need you to use your words baby," you teased." What do you want? What do you want me to do-"

" Fuck me, please-" he panted.

" Alright, my sweet boy." You got to your feet and stood above him.

He reached forward and unclasped your bra, watching it fall to the floor then leaning forward , sitting on the edge of his throne , he took your breast into his mouth.

It was your turn to groan as he licked and sucked, leaving a sloppy trail of kisses from your breast to your navel. It gave you goosebumps.

He hooked his thumbs around your panties and pulled them down. "Please," he mumbled into your tummy." I need to be inside you."

You tilted his chin up and leaned down to kiss his lips. When you pulled away you spun around, facing away from him, straddling him,slowly lowering yourself down onto his perfect cock. You gasped, he was so deep from this angle, you were so full.

" Oh god, Eddie. You feel incredible."

He pressed his chest into your back, you could feel his rapid heartbeat,his face nuzzled into your hair, one hand reaching around to fondle your breast, the other sliding between your slick folds and circling the bud inside.

" Your so wet for me." He whispered, his breath hot on your neck as he drove up into you. You both groaned.

" Feels so good Eddie, so fucking good." You rocked your hips and when that wasn't enough you bounced up and down at an unrelenting pace, you needed it, you needed that sweet release. You had wanted this, wanted him from the second you stepped out and saw him in that suit.

He bucked his hips wildly, slamming into that soft spot deep inside you , you fought to hold back your cry. You could feel the wave of ecstasy wash over you as you whimpered his name." Eddie, Eddie, oh Eddie,"

A low growl came out from deep within his chest, you could feel the vibration on your back. He dragged his teeth lightly across your skin and he gently bit your shoulder, a moan escaping your lips, sending him spiraling over the edge.

You pressed back against him , panting, your legs screaming from the workout you gave them, but the burn worth it as his arms wrapped around you. He brushed your hair aside and placed soft kisses along your neck and your back then snuggled in. " I love you so fucking much Sweetheart. " he nibbled on your ear ." Thank you for defending my honor, your fucking hot when your heated."

You giggled." Oh course Baby, I would do anything for you. I love you."

He pulled you close one last time." I suppose we should be getting back, people are going to wonder where we went."

" I suppose you are right." You sighed, exiting his lap. You searched the floor for your dress , bra and panties, dressing as you found each article of clothing. Once Eddie was sufficiently dressed you flipped on the light switch and gasped. " Oh no Baby!"

" What?" Eddie asked a look of concern on his face.

You smirked and pointed to his chest. There were red lip prints trailing from his neck all the way down to his belt. " I , uh , forgot about the lip gloss."

Eddie smiled as he looked down." I shall wear them as a badge of honor, 'tis a great privilege to wear the mark of a lady as beautiful and enchanting as you." He picked up your hand and kissed it, then winked and flashed you a devilish smile.

" Your incorrigible." You smiled back.

He bowed dramatically then took the band out of his hair and shook his head, his curls tumbling over his shoulders.

You wrapped a curl around your finger than gave it a little tug, winked back then started buttoning up his shirt with your nimble fingers. When you got two from the top he stopped you.

" I'm not putting that fucking tie back on. I was sophisticated Eddie Munson long enough." He tucked his shirt back into his pants.

" Still pretty fucking sexy if you ask me." You leaned in and kissed his full lips again. You chuckled as you pulled away ." I must look like a mess. I need to find a bathroom and make myself presentable."

" You look fucking fantastic," he grabbed your ass and pulled you against him again. He kissed the tip of your nose and leaned his forehead against yours."That was easily the best experience I have ever had in this room."

You smiled. " Your welcome Dungeon Master."

Eddie slapped your ass." Come on beautiful." He shoved his tie in his pocket, took your hand and draped his suit coat over your shoulders. When he got to the doorway he turned and looked at the room one last time then flipped the light switch off.

You cleaned yourself up in the nearest girls room, fixed your hair with a clip and reapplied your makeup, you couldn't wipe the smile from your face.

When you reached the gymnasium you made your way back over to the table where your friends were sitting.

" Jesus Christ Munson, did you get lost? This school isn't that big." Steve stared at Eddie a second." Wait a fucking minute. Weren't you wearing a tie? Wasn't your hair back?"

" Your so observant Harrington."Eddie smirked.

" Is that, lip stick on your chest? " Steve lowered his voice." Did you two have sex? Like here in the school? "

Nancy backhanded Steve." That's none of your business, nosey!"

" A true gentleman doesn't kiss and tell Harrington."

You could feel a blush warm your cheeks. You heard a slow song playing in the background, " Baby, will you dance with me?"

" Absolutely, Love." He slung an arm around your shoulder and walked you to the dance floor, Steve and Nancy following close behind.

You didn't speak as he wrapped his arms around you, you just moved around the floor in comfortable silence, again enjoying the closeness. You watched as Steve spun Nancy around,you watched her smile, then wave for Robin to come over and cut in.

You watched as eyebrows raised as people recognized Eddie, watched as women slowly looked him over then looked back back at their husbands. It made you giggle into his chest and it made him hold you closer.

The rest of the night was more dancing, and reminiscing, Eddie making casual conversation to people that came over, curious to see what he was up to these days, apologizing for their shitty behavior in their youth. At the end of the night the five of you walked out of the school and down to the parking lot, laughing,feet sore and totally exhausted but happy that you had attended.

" So Sweetheart," Eddie whispered in your ear," What do you say when we get back , we pop a bottle of wine and soak in that amazing tub-"

" Hey Freak!"

Eddie groaned and shook his head. "Fucking Carver, just has to get in the last fucking word-"

Jason stepped out from beside his car, Chrissy again looking absolutely mortified." Jason let's go!"

" Wait a minute Chrissy, I have unfinished business here with the fucking freak of Hawkins."

" Uh Eddie? " Steve walked up beside him. " Do you want me to take care of him?"

" No, I got it."

" I'll be your backup."

" Ok Harrington." Eddie stepped infront of you protectively." I already told you Carver, we have no unfinished business, I'm over it, I've moved on-"

" Oh look, he's going to be a man and not sic his little guard dog on me-"

You peeked around from behind Eddie, knowing full well that he was referring to you,but he held you back with his hand.

" What the fuck did you just say about my girl? " Eddie said through gritted teeth.

Jason smirked, knowing he had struck a nerve ." I said that I'm glad to see that you put your guard dog back in her cage-"

Before anyone could register what was happening Eddie hauled off and nailed Jason right in the nose. Chrissy screamed, Jason landed on the ground with an "Oof", and Steve hollered " Holy Shit!"

You held onto Eddie as he shook out his hand." Fuck! " he looked over at Chrissy who was knelt down beside Jason." I'm uh , sorry Chrissy."

She sighed and looked up at Eddie." It's been a long time coming. I'm surprised it took you this long to knock his fucking lights out." She took some tissues out of her purse and dabbed at his nose as he sat dazed for a moment. "You should probably get out of here."

" Do you need any help getting him to the car?"

" I got it slugger." Steve pat Eddie on the back." It's about damn time."

Nancy went over and stood with Chrissy while Steve helped Jason up and into his car. Jason glared at Eddie and started to say something when Robin leaned over." You just got knocked the fuck out Carver. I'd say if you were a smart man you would just let it go."

You looked up at Eddie and then waved goodbye to the others as you closed the gap to Eddie's car. " Thank you for defending my honor."

He smiled down at you" Of course, I would do anything for you baby. I love you." He kissed the top of your head then opened the door for you." Can I be totally straight with you?"

" Always." You sat down in your seat and he closed the door for you.

He walked around and climbed in. “ I have been dreaming of beating his ass for years, but honestly it was anti climatic, and it kinda hurt my hand, he’s got a fucking hard head.”

You laugh.” My poor baby.” You take his hand and kissed his knuckles.” I bet I know of a way I can make you forget all about your hand. And I PROMISE that you will get the climax you are hoping for.”

Eddie smiled and started the car and the engine purred.” Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

As always thank you for reading ❤️ If you like what you are reading ,Please, PLEASE, Please comment and re-blog! Want to be added to taglist? Please let me know! Thanks again Loves❤️

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #dilf!eddie munson #eddie munson blurb

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snowviolettwhite · 20 days

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Spent today working on the mood-board for my upcoming 9-1-1 Alternative Universe Fan-Fiction Set In 2011. Making moodboard and doing interested boards help inspire me and get ideas flowing. So I want to share it. Look how adorable teenage Buck, Eddie and Shannon are. They look so young, little cutie pies.

It will be called "don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up." It is from Harry Style's Matilda.

Below is what I have written so far, it is still in the works. You can also check out my 9-1-1: Lone Star Fan-Fiction.

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Set in the early 2010s with barely eighteen and barely out of high school Buck and Eddie running away from home to California and joining the fire academy and eventually joining the 118. Eddie would bring baby Christopher with him. Eddie's parent did not think he was mature and adult enough to take care of Chris as a 20-something year old, so is would be even worse for teenagers, people who are transiting from childhood/teenage-hood to young adulthood and still being treated like kids.

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It is June of 2011. The schools wide across the nation are all out for summer vacation from Hershey, Pennsylvania to El Paso, Texas.

Evan Buckley is the blonde, blue eye rascal who is always getting hurt and in trouble. He is the baby of the family but the only person who has ever paid attention to him is his big sister Maddie.

Edmundo Diaz is the young teen dad who got his best friend and girlfriend pregnant. He is the middle child and was the sane one compared to sisters until now.

They say if you want to be treated like an adult act like an adult. How are supposed to act like an adult at eighteen years old, haven’t been out of high school even a month, being dragged home by the cops and being scolded at the front door or being yelled in your childhood bedroom. Sometimes this makes you want to run away.

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It is June of 2011.

The city of El Paso, Texas school district has let for summer break and held graduation for this year’s high school seniors, they are no longer twelfth graders.

They are adults or as much as one can feel like an adult at eighteen years old, and silently sobbing in your childhood bedroom, hugging your worn-out stuffed animal dog with your back pressed against the door, trying not to wake your napping infant son who in his crib as your mother is yelling at you.

“Edmundo Diaz, you are in so much trouble young man. Open this door right now! You live under in my house. You live by my rules and aren’t too old to be put over my knees. Just wait until your father gets home. I can’t do deal with you.”

Edmundo Diaz or Eddie as he prefers being called was a good catholic boy. He never misbehaved or caused trouble but a little too soft, that was until Shannon showed up. They met in the eighth grade. They became best friends and were inseparable until they lose touch but found their way back to each other. She introduced herself being all sweet and friendly. She was sunshine. His family hated Shannon. They said she was a bad influence on him and he started acting different after meeting her. She was his first kiss, his first girlfriend, this first time. Good catholic boys wait until marriage, she is his first and only.

Shannon will back soon, she is visiting colleges in California. When she comes back they will make a plan for themselves and for their beautiful baby boy, Christopher. For now, he has been having never ending fights with his parents. It is about how stupid he was getting a girl pregnant while still in high school and a teenager or how he needs to toughen up or grow up. It is kind of hard to grow up when nobody goes around hiring eighteen-year-old and your parents are still treating you like a child.

“Edmundo, how could you let this happen? You and Shannon are still kids. You are barely able to take care of yourselves. How are you supposed to take care of a baby?”

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Inspired By This Photo:

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neuronary · 1 year

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concept: steddie florist/tattoo artist au with a side of no upside down

obviously eddie is the tattoo artist and steve is the florist. he and robin started working at the local florist after family video finally shut down (admittedly it made literally no money the entire time they worked there) and third time lucky, because it finally stuck. when the old lady that owned the florist died with no family to speak of, she left the two of them the shop and the apartment above it.

robin never ended up going to college, despite having the equivelent of a linguistics degree in knowledge anyway, which was always a contentious issue between steve and robin. (she doesn't give a flying fuck how much he believed in her; she was barely scraping 'B's throughout her high school career and college was never in the cards for her.) so they stuck around in hawkins. they watched the kids graduate (and endured a ridiculous amount of teasing from said kids over the whole florist thing), they grew up into proper grown ups who did taxes, and they grew an enormous garden in the mean time.

and then 1993 rolls around and a tattoo parlour opens up down the street. which. huh. sure. not something either of them would have expected, but hawkins has gained a pretty significant goth tourist population given the whole 'cursed' thing ("it's not exploitative if the 'creepy' pressed flower frames are profiting off of our own trauma, dingus") so maybe it'll work out for the guy, who knows. and then steve bumps into said guy while doing the daily sandwich run and robin did not warn him that he was hot. which is because robin is a little bit preoccupied with the fact that her second (and least embarrassing) high school crush, chrissy cunningham, is back in town following the death of her mother, and has somehow become even more of a fucking smokeshow and did steve see that violets pin on her jacket does that mean what robin thinks it means holy shit steve holy shit. and cue them both being gay disasters.

chrissy hightailed it out of hawkins the second she graduated, which everyone assumed was because of the whole creel debacle. whilst she still keeps in contact with the other victims (patrick sends her letters from his apartment in chicago, max calls from california every so often, fred, may he rest in peace, occupies her nightmares), she avoids any mention of hawkins like the plague. people will stare no matter where she is, wondering about what could have happened to leave her looking the way she does. but chrissy has always been a smiler, and that goes a long way to making friends in a big city. new york started out lonely and expensive but she slowly, painstakingly found her people in the greenwich village. in 1993, after seven years of screening her calls and refusing to speak to her mother, the call finally comes. she’s dead. it’s really over. now she just has to plan a funeral and figure out how to feel about that. she always thought she’d have more time but the cards didn’t fall that way.

eddie needed to get out and start his own shop, after finally feeling like he actually knew what he was doing and, well. his uncle wayne is getting on in years, and disgraced queers have to stick together right? so eddie packs up his kit and his guitar and he moves back to hawkins. (he does not think fondly of his three year stint in high school there, fucking off to indy to start a band when he flunked senior year.) he sinks all his savings into a storefront on main street and sleeps in the back office because who’s gonna kick him out, exactly? and then it starts going... better than he expected, actually. there’s this gang of college twerps home for the summer that all want matching fucking demogorgons of all things, and the fiery redhead girl wants the hand and eye of vecna for god knows what reason. there is also, as he predicted, a steady flow of vacationing goths, conspiracy theorists, and true crime enthusiasts that want souvenirs inked into their skin. so eddie makes good money. at least that’s a balm for the undying shame and indignation he has over crushing on steve fucking harrington, king of the douchebags from hawkins high, now a stupid twunk-y florist with an easy smile and a thin, almost unnoticeable scar running across his stupid kissable lips.

it’s fine, eddie and steve both complain to their respective agony aunts. wayne grunts and goes back to sleep. robin invites chrissy up for some homegrown weed to take the edge off of the funeral prep.

#steddie #buckingham #stranger things

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paperbackribs · 5 months

Text

The Gift (12 of 15)

previous: Chapter 11 Midnight Movie (NSFW) next: Chapter 13 It's Pretty (NSFW)

Last chapter, Steve succumbed to temptation after being under Eddie's heated gaze while watching Rocky Horror and then again later as he Sees what Eddie gets up to in bed. This chapter, Steve has some sobering realisations about the extent of his feelings.

Chapter 12 The Path Chosen

Eddie’s dodging him, Steve’s sure of it. He’s barely seen the other guy for over two weeks now except for picking up the kids from Hellfire and waving across the school parking lot when he drops Robin off in the morning. Their friendship, Steve thinks glumly, has been reduced to concrete and exhaust fumes because he couldn’t keep his hand off his dick.

“I fucked it up,” he confesses to Robin. She has her French homework spread out on his kitchen island. She likes the length of space and how high she can sit, she says about using it.

At the moment, Robin is carefully spreading mustard to match the exact square of her sandwich slice before adding the ham and cheese in its precise order. Steve has argued that there’s no order; top is bottom, and bottom is top, but Robin insists that she knows what it is, even if she can’t quite describe it.

“How’d you fuck what up,” she asks, inexplicably smoothing out the ham’s creases.

“Movie night. I had a... moment with Eddie. And I did something that I shouldn’t’ve.”

If he hadn't been such a horndog then maybe he wouldn't have weirded Eddie out and would still be able to see the other guy, wouldn't feel his absence like some terribly empty wound.

Because Steve has missed Eddie something fierce. Family Video has been one long dull exercise in earning minimum wage, he hasn't been able to elbow Eddie at a double entendre on movie night, nor been able to catch his laughing eyes when Steve asks whether the kids won their D&D game or when he refers to a gargoyle as the garage guy.

He's missed that little zip of Eddie's attention in a way that makes his nerves feel deadened and dull. Steve hasn't been able to tell Eddie about his day and listen to him reframe it into the most ridiculous story. Or watch Eddie shine with that inner light he has when describing the next riddle or monster or trap of his campaign or the absent look on his face as he hums the same tune over and over, trying to lock down the right notes.

All Steve wants is to look across the room and see the armour of his outfit, the charm of his performance, and Eddie's handsome face with its myriad of teasing expressions.

Steve caved to a moment of temptation and, in doing so, lost one of his best friends in a single night. Well done, he sarcastically congratulates himself on his unexpected overachievement.

Robin interrupts his self-flagellation, “Is this when you were practically humping the couch pillow?” She takes a big bite out of her sandwich, savage despite the care she’d put into its construction.

Steve’s mouth gapes open. “You saw that?” He exclaims.

Robin smirks, “Where’d you think that sneeze came from? I’m all for you two getting together, but I don’t want to actually see you fucking. I practically had to hose off the pheromones when I got home.”

“Oh my god,” he moans into his hands. “Eddie’s going to think I’m the creepiest creep to ever creep across Hawkins.” All that time trying to not act like he had a secret insight into Eddie's private world all gone down the shitter because he is a horny perv.

“I don’t know why you’re so bothered,” she shrugs. “You weren’t the only stink I was showering off that night.”

Steve peeks out between his fingers. “Yeah,” he asks, hope rising in him: Robin doesn't lie, not even to make him feel better.

She snorts before finishing off the last bite. “The guy practically caged you in before the movie started and then he eye fucked you the entire film. I got why you were having your way with that poor innocent pillow; I just didn’t want to be a spectator in the Horny Olympics you two had going.”

A bubbling feeling of cautious confidence rises in Steve’s chest: maybe he had all this wrong and Eddie wasn't avoiding him. No, he stops himself, Eddie is definitely avoiding him but maybe it's not for the reason he thinks. Like when he'd misunderstood the intention behind Eddie's questions early on, thinking that Eddie was wary of the power Steve held when he was actually asking about why Steve would risk his life for him.

Eddie shares with him a lot more than Steve had ever thought would be possible at the beginning of their friendship. He thinks that the connection has given him more of an insight into Eddie's life beyond literally seeing through his eye. It's helped Steve to ask questions he's not thought to ask, and, in turn, he's come to know Eddie's tells beyond the flamboyant performance he often uses as a shield.

That's been the problem, Steve decides, he's allowed Eddie to dodge him. Steve should have pinned him down and demanded to know what Eddie's been thinking at least a week back when he'd known for sure that he was avoiding him. If the other guy had felt even a glimmer of the attraction that Steve feels for Eddie, then maybe he has a chance at something beyond their platonic relationship. Something based on the solid foundation of their friendship with the possibility for so much more.

He chews at his cheek as he acknowledges the other, uneasy feeling alongside that ballooning of hope in his chest. If he wants honesty from Eddie, then he needs to be honest as well. He needs to tell Eddie about the connection and what Steve has been Seeing. A necessary conversation before he can even think about trying to persuade Eddie to try and flesh out this pull between them.

“Besides the eye thing I need to tell him how I feel," he tells Robin decisively. "I can't let him slip away because I didn't sack up and tell him that I want him in my life. As more than a friend," Steve clarifies.

“Yeah, dingus. That’s a given," she rolls her eyes but her tone is not unkind. "Now are you going to go get your man?”

Steve sticks his middle finger up at her over his shoulder as he rushes out to the bimmer. He’s pretty sure Eddie’s probably home on a Wednesday night and Robin has her own set of keys so she can lock up when she leaves. Or stay, he doesn’t care. He might just appreciate her sleeping over tonight if it all goes to shit.

The sliver of the new moon is rising in the darkening sky and it seems to Steve that it pulls him in the direction towards Forrest Hills. An encouraging glint like a sharp needle waiting for Steve to thread and weave an unmapped pattern.

Just as he had created a new path in saving Eddie, Steve experiences the blossoming conviction that his next actions will determine the unrolling tapestry of his future, that he can choose his next steps and, in doing so, challenge destiny. A path created by Steve's self-determination rather than some fixed map he needs to blindly follow.

The sudden understanding that what happens next is in some part a consequence of his actions and in other parts up to Eddie's subsequent reaction leaves his hands sweaty on the steering wheel as he pulls up in front of Eddie’s trailer. Noting with relief that Wayne’s red pick-up isn’t here but Eddie’s white van is. Pulled haphazardly to the side, Steve sees with fond exasperation.

How can Eddie be so loud and messy in some ways and so self-contained in others? The hope that had kept him buoyed through the drive dips again at the thought. Robin may have been just picking up on the loud Eddie, some hormone-driven horniness that naturally seeps in within any range of Tim Curry in fishnet stockings. And maybe what was going on inside Eddie has nothing to do with Steve, nothing to want to do with him if he takes the past couple of weeks to heart.

“Stevie, is that you?”

He whips his head up at Eddie’s voice, who is opening the trailer door even as he calls out Steve’s name.

He wiggles his fingers back in greeting. Eddie simply raises his eyebrows questioningly.

He just needs to push off the wall, Steve reminds himself. Otherwise, he and Eddie will continue to tread water and he’ll get nowhere. Or worse, he won’t have Eddie in any capacity as a friend or otherwise.

With a steadying breath, he gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him to walk up to Eddie, hands in the back of his jeans pockets.

“Hey,” he says simply, looking up at Eddie who’s above him on the doorstep. Hoping that he's not about to be turned away before he even gets the chance to make this better.

Eddie looks down at him pensively, before stepping back and holding open the screen door. Steve accepts the invitation and follows him in, clenching his jaw as he automatically glances up at the corner ceiling where brown plywood is barricaded against the apricot-painted wallboard.

It really wasn’t that long ago that they were falling in and out of that thing, terror thick in his throat, scared that he was going to lose Dustin or Robin or Nancy. Terrified that he didn’t have eyes on Max and the rest of the team to keep them safe but trying to trust in their bravery and ingenuity.

And then there was Eddie, who he’d only started to get to know. Who he’d already come to like quite a bit, Steve realises belatedly.

The impact of the poorly chosen road would have on Dustin had weighed heavily on Steve’s mind when he’d decided to do what he could to thread his own path for Eddie’s fate, but he had also been thinking of Eddie himself.

Eddie, who was great with the kids, keeping Dustin’s smile bright while reigning him in from stupid choices like trying to join them on Lover’s Lake. A guy courageous enough to reflect on and admit to feelings of jealousy and admiration in the midst of an eerie forest. A man who looked so frustrated with himself and scared, speaking of his actions as if he were a coward yet repeatedly diving into dangerous waters, metaphorically and literally.

The wonder on Eddie's face as he looked up at the Upside Down sparkles had left Steve breathless. The play of light above them a dull comparison to the shimmering delight in Eddie's wide chocolate eyes, squeezing at Steve's heart and making it impossible for him to look away.

Steve hadn’t been able to comprehend the idea of letting Eddie go, of never seeing his bright eyes and charming dimples and had decided he could easily sacrifice his body and spirit to ensure he’d see Eddie leaning in towards him once more, an irreverent comment on the tip of his tongue and an invitation in the corner of his eyes.

He had wanted Eddie long before the connection, Steve realises with a racing heart.

It wasn’t much more than that yet, just a glimmer of desire from a flirtation in the worst of all moments to be thinking about his love life. Something far more paler than what he feels now, but the cornerstone of it nonetheless. He had seen to the core of Eddie, his kindness and courage and soul and wanted to know him even more so.

Christ, he’s been such an idiot this entire time.

Steve runs a hand over his face, stunned by the depths of how clueless he’d allowed himself to be. When had he become such a coward?

He’s been like one of those stupid fucking frogs that continues to sit in the cooking pot as the water heats, boiled over before he knows it. Cooked and done and ready for serving. His feelings building and layering on top of each other until his mind and heart were willingly woven into a complex tapestry built for Eddie, and Eddie alone.

Why hadn’t he allowed himself to at least try to have more with him before this became a muddled mess?

Steve stands at the centre of Eddie's home, his racing heart beating wildly in his throat, sure that Eddie is not going to want to have anything to do with him once he understands just how deeply Steve’s been invading his privacy. The uncanny part of him continuing to force himself into Eddie’s private world and Eddie will be sure that he can never trust Steve again.

But it has to be done, no matter Eddie's final decision.

Resigned to getting this conversation over, Steve drops his hands and looks over at the other man.

Eddie’s shifting nervously in his jean shorts and socks. His hair stuck up at one end as if he’d been napping and he has on that No Remorse shirt again, but Steve isn’t distracted by the sensuality of Eddie this time. Rather, he’s wondering how he willingly looked past the depth of his feelings for him this entire time.

He hadn’t needed to see Eddie getting his rocks off to know that he is captivating, but he had needed it to shake loose whatever self-denial he had been determined to hold onto. To realise that his preoccupation with knowing about Eddie's thoughts and feelings and opinions or dreaming of ways to secure his attention were not because of a simple platonic regard. Rather, it was all a reflection of the deep, abiding well of a familiar and exquisite emotion.

“What a fucking idiot,” Steve mutters to himself.

“What?” Eddie frowns.

“Shit, no,” Steve hurridly holds out his palms. “Not you, me. Can we talk?”

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

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#witchsteve #steddie #platonic stobin #stranger things #steve harrington #any unexplained references are detailed in chapter notes on Ao3 #eddie munson #paperbackribs writing

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