#if you really care about politics n shit you should listen to ALL THE OTHER TRANS MEN TALKING ABOUT THIS

[illusivelle]

shake the frost / 2

pairing: william 'ironhead' miller x female reader rating: t (for now) length: 3,044 words content: established relationship with the triple frontier boys, cursing, bruises/cuts, tending to wounds (my jam) summary: you don't expect to find will waiting for you so late at night, and especially not for these reasons. a/n: just a sucker for one person taking care of another while they're hurt. really just feeding into my own agenda here. and also a sucker for some idiots who think their pining is unrequited. read part one link to ao3 here!

Next time.

Two words that had been ringing in Will’s ears, bouncing around his head. Words he’d been repeating to himself because he wasn’t sure you meant it, wasn’t sure what spurred it. Wasn’t sure why it awakened something in him that had been dormant for so long. Two words that felt like a promise of more – more time, more you.

It wasn’t as if it was something novel considering the way he’d looked at you, and caught you looking at him, too. All those fleeting glances you’d both share when he thought the other guys weren’t looking, tiny smiles and faint touches in passing. But this was something different, wasn’t it? A step in a direction he wasn’t certain either of you would make a move toward, or maybe he’d been overthinking the entire thing and it was just something polite you’d offered.

Either way, Will Miller couldn’t seem to get his mind off – nor wrap it around – the idea of ‘next time.’

If only said next time wasn’t under these circumstances, knocking on your front door in the state he was in, hoping that you were actually home. 

You’d just pulled into your parking spot, locking your car door three times as you walked up to your apartment. The silhouette that’s slumped over your door is enough to have all the hairs rising at the back of your neck, one hand digging into your purse to clutch for something you could potentially use as a weapon. Shit, if only you’d listened to Frankie all those years ago, you might’ve been better prepared for moments like this. The only thing you could feel as you rummage in your bag is the dull handle of a switchblade, the one thing you did accept from Frankie if only to appease him and make him feel better about your safety.

And now you were kicking yourself in the fucking ass for not listening.

Tentative steps bring you closer to your door, your fingers grasping the knife tightly as wary eyes assess every inch you can see. In the darkness, you can only make out the fact that the person is a) much, much larger than you and b) hunched over like they might be sleeping. At your door, though? It doesn’t tell you much, save for the fact that you had to be very fucking careful about what might happen next. One more step brings you only a few feet away but the rustling of your clothes is enough to have the other’s head snapping up, and you whip out the knife from where it’d been hiding. “You should–”

“It’s me.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Even in your haziest dreams, you could pick out that deep timbre and husky rasp that belonged to the one man that had no business occupying so much of your thoughts, especially as of late. “Will?” His name is a hushed whisper as you toss the switchblade back into your bag and quickly close the distance between you two. You’re crouching down as he’s pushing himself up, clumsily meeting halfway, your hands rising to settle on his shoulders. Not that he needed you to steady him, but you needed something to steady yourself, the sight of Will Miller sitting at your door something you’d never in a million years think would happen. “What’re you– is everything okay?” Immediately, your thoughts fly to all sorts of scenarios, a wary and assessing gaze raking over him as your palms work in a similar fashion, running up and down his arms like you might find a broken bone or a gaping wound. 

It’s only when your eyes finally land on his face that you notice, in the small sliver of moonlight peeking through a break in the sky, how dark red has matted along his hairline and paired nicely with the cut slicing his brow. Icy blue eyes dance as they search yours and Will remains quiet while you continue your inspection, finding more surface wounds on his lip and jaw, one that clenches when you linger too long. “Come in,” are the only two words you can think to say, reaching past him to shove your key in and unlock your door.

Maybe it’s your imagination, or maybe there really is only just a few inches between you and Will, his heat seeping through your clothes and prickling your skin. You swear you can feel his ragged and warm breath fanning out across your nape, a subtle roll of your neck like that might alleviate some of the tension thickening in the air when you push open the door to let both of you in. “Thank you,” his hoarse voice cuts in before he immediately tacks on an apology, “I’m sorry. I can go if you–”

“No.” You interrupt him before he can spiral. “Stay.”

His reaction is physical. His shoulders sag like that one simple word washed away all of his worries, the divot between his brows smoothing as he takes one step further into your place and then another. You’ve already dropped your bags and shrugged off your sweater, shuffling to the bathroom to grab your first aid kit and wet a towel with warm water. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Calling out to him, half expecting Will to remain planted where he stood because if there’s one thing about the stoic blonde man standing in your home, he always knew boundaries.

But when you close the medicine cabinet and turn on a heel, you nearly smack into a solid wall of carved muscle, one palm flying up to meet his firm chest to keep yourself upright. “Oh– Will–” blurting out his name while colour steals across your cheeks, “um, you can just have a seat there, then.” He takes orders so well, almost as well as he gives them. The only reason you know what that might sound like is because you’ve heard him bark them out to his brother Benny, even to Frankie and Santi. There’s no way it was anywhere near how he sounded when he’s on the field and you’re not delusional enough to think so, but it’s always been enough to strike a match in your gut. To spark that flame that burned for William Miller.

That same fire is ignited the second you lock your gaze with his pool of blues, tipping your head to the side with a cocked brow. Imploring him with your expression alone, hoping that he’d take the bait or feel comfortable enough to say something – anything – as you slowly and gently bring the edge of the warm towel up to wipe away the dried blood on his temple. “Benny got into somethin’ stupid after his fight tonight,” Will grumbled, those bright arctic irides breaking away from yours for a beat, “they didn’t like how he mouthed off too much in the ring. I told him one day it’d come to bite him in the ass, but you know Benny.” He huffs out a breath, one that tickles the sliver of skin peeking from your shirt, a lick of your lips to hide the way you noticed and zeroed in on the sensation so quickly. 

“Mmhm. In one ear–” “Out the other,” he finishes with a dry chuckle. 

Will barely flinches as you start to clean out his wounds, pressing damp alcohol-soaked pads to open cuts. It’s a testament to all that he’s endured out in the field, things far worse than you can ever imagine. Things far worse than what you’ve seen with your own two eyes at the hospital. You remember Frankie talking about a gunshot wound on their last ‘mission’ that Will simply patched up with a few pads of gauze, and even remembering the way Frankie told the story has your brows pinching together with distaste. “Is it bad?” Will murmurs, bringing your eyes down to his again.

“No, it’s not bad.” Were you really that easy to read, or maybe this close Will can just see right through you? “Are you feeling okay? Need a painkiller or something?”

“Probably just some water but I can wait.”

A hint of a smile teases the edges of your lips, wanting to lighten the sullen mood that’s fallen between you two. “I’ll make it quick, then.”

And you do, as much as you could. All of the open wounds were small enough that Will didn’t need any stitches; a few slips of the skin glue enough to close them, followed by pressing the thin adhesive strip bandages on top to make sure everything held. You lean in close when you get to the cut along his cheek, not wanting to mess up something that could’ve otherwise turned into a scar. Not that you thought Will would mind or didn’t have plenty of those, but you’d always been cautious about the face for any of your patients and he was no different. So focused on your work, steady fingers brushing back the small bandage, you don’t notice just how close your mouths are until you start to speak, the bristles of his beard tickling the edges of your pout. “Good as new,” you chime and without thinking, continue to say, “handsome as ever.”

If the ground could open you up and swallow you whole, you’d thank all your lucky stars and maybe even become religious. Had you really just said that? Heart hammering a bruise behind your ribs, you dare to steal a glance at Will’s face, hoping and praying and wishing you’d find something akin to indifference written over it. An indicator that he didn’t hear what you just said or maybe that he’d spare you and ignore it. Instead, you find a slick shine on his lower lip, a flirt of his tongue before he pulls it in while those thick, blonde lashes bat against his cheek. It’s silent for a few seconds, the weight of your words hanging over you like a blanket, and as soon as you open your mouth to say something, Will’s hand finds a home on your hip.

“It’s okay.” His tone stuns you, softer than you’ve ever heard it, swallowing thickly as you give him a shallow nod. “I didn’t mean to come here so late. Thank you for helping me. I was going to drive myself to the emergency, but Benny thought it’d be better to come see you directly. He all but followed me to make sure I actually didn’t go anywhere else.” All the while his thumb starts an absent sweeping motion, snagging on the hem of your shirt and sending goosebumps spreading fast on your skin.

“I’m glad you did, Will. You’d have been sitting in the waiting room for hours, you know.” Your fingers trail down until they brush over his knuckles, the same ones still holding you steady. “A heads up would’ve been nice, though, I guess.”

You’re not sure where this drop of courage is coming from. Maybe it’s the fact that Will took the lead here, the fact that his palm seems to press in more firmly where it lay. But as you search his eyes for a response, you can see the very second the moment splits into two. The moment where reality rears its ugly head and presents the staggering truth: too much. This is too much, too soon. There’s a faint quiver to Will’s lower lip, a muscle feathering in his jaw, and a few blinks is all it takes for those arctic blues to gloss over with something colder. Something you’ve seen in his eyes before, usually at the start of the night when he’s still had all his guards up and the others were around keeping a watchful and protective stance around you. Or when you’d overhear him and the guys talking about their pasts, especially their old friend. Or even the times you listened to Will’s speeches, recounting the eventful situation he found himself in at the grocery store when he all but lost his grip and sense.

“It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.” His hands drop as low as his voice, the words leaking of shame.

You won’t pretend to ever know what happened between Will and his ex, or even Will on the last mission, but it doesn’t take a genius to recognize the wheels turning behind those wary eyes. His entire face twists like he’s trying to hide the visceral need to run, and the warning signs flood the forefront of your mind as Frankie’s booming voice echoes between your ears: it’s a bad idea, he’s not ready, he’ll hurt you, you’ll hurt each other.

“It’s okay, Will.” Barely above a whisper, you say the three words you hope will settle in his bones the same time you step back to put a small gap between your aching bodies. His aching undoubtedly from the fight he’d put up for Benny and yours for different reasons entirely, emphasized by the fact that every fibre of your being is reaching out to return to his orbit. 

His hands clasp together in front of him, another sharp breath slipping past those lips before he rises to his full height. It takes you too long to point out that his knuckles still have dried blood on them, but it’s clear he has no intent on staying any longer than necessary. Hiding the hurt from your face was easy enough but the way it stings the corner of your eyes is something that’s more challenging to tamp down. Twisting your body away from him and ducking your chin into your chest, you try to stride out of the bathroom, but his words have you faltering right at the threshold. “Do I owe you something for this?”

“What?” Brows bunching together into a frown, you peer at him over your shoulder. “No, Will. You don’t owe me anything.”

Is it relief you see as tension uncoils from his body? Like maybe the fact that he didn’t owe you anything meant he didn’t have to talk about this night, relive it, or see you again? Your mind is racing a mile a minute, your steps faster as you make it to your living room and leave him following behind. “Hey,” Will’s voice is strained and again, it has your resolve wavering, leaning against the back of the couch as you slowly turn to face him, “thank you. I’m not sure what else to say. I know seeing a man sitting at your door late at night probably wasn’t the most welcoming thing, and out of the blue, too. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You don’t mean to snap, the words falling out with a bite, but it’s too late to take them back. The only thing you can do is cast your eyes up at Will with a hint of regret flashing across your face. Because you did want him to stop saying sorry, to stop feeling bad for leaning on you when he needed help. Because you’re hit with the realization that refusing and turning him away at the door was never even an option. “It’s okay. Really, Will. I mean it. I’m happy to help you.” You admit softly, sucking in a breath to keep the momentum going, pivoting at the last second to turn the conversation into something less daunting as you murmur, “though I guess I thought the next time would’ve been under different circumstances.”

This seems to do the trick, lifting the veil of tension even for a brief moment, allowing you to catch a ghost of a smile when the lines on Will’s cheek deepen. “Mmhm, yeah. Would’ve been nicer if it were, I imagine.”

Fidgeting with your fingers yet unable to keep your attention away from him for too long, your eyes dance between your own hands and his. “Do you want me to take care of that, or…?” A little matted blood only needed a good wash, but you’d take the opportunity to tend to him if he allowed it.

Blue eyes dart down to meet where you’re looking, a quiet hum sounding in your apartment that feels like a ticking time bomb minutes before the inevitable crash. It comes far too quickly, and far too quietly, hitting you harder than you’re prepared for. “No, it’s okay. I should go.”

Whatever bubble you’d convinced yourself you were in pops, the moment once again splitting into pieces. This time, more than two, dropping around you helplessly and all you can do is agree with him as it slips like water between your fingers. “Okay.” After all, you'd have no right to ask him to stay. He’d already done that, and now Will’s decided it’s his time to leave. Palms slicking with sweat, you find yourself nervous. Find yourself wondering, not for the first time since you’ve known Will, why you were so nervous around him. It’s just Will, you remind yourself, something that’s becoming more of a mantra these days. “You drove here? You’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be alright.”

But would you be alright? It’s hard to tell because the longer Will lingers in front of you, the longer your mind strays. Is he second guessing himself? Is this all in your head? Is he going to shrug his jacket off and change his mind? Through the corner of your eye and in the dim light of your living room, you see the way his fingers twitch as it slowly rises. Inches before they can touch any part of you, it fades, your heart sinking into your stomach.

Only for it to crawl back up to lodge in your throat when the scent of Will threatens to overwhelm you as he steps in to press a kiss to the crown of your head, another muffled “next time, then,” before he’s skirting past you, opening your door, and leaving.

Leaving you with even more conflicted thoughts about Will Miller, ones that replay over and over again the entire night. Ones that blend into a flurry of emotions as you clean up and ready yourself for bed, ones that have you picking up your phone in the dark to type out a hurried text

'You should’ve stayed. Next time?'

#will miller x reader #william ironhead miller #william miller x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #charlie hunnam fic #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam #william miller #will miller #will miller x you #william miller x you #triple frontier

[b0g-b0y]

A Moth to a Flame

Ghost x M reader Requested @imcoughing

( Im sorry yall but I really didn't feel like writing the mission, I could do something like in DMZ but idk)

—---------------------------------------------------

Y/n and Ghost never really knew each other, besides the rare time they passed each other in the halls on base. They never did say a word to each other.

But like a moth to a flame, Y/n and Ghost ended up on the same mission. Ghost didn't think anything about it, why would he? And for Y/n he heard much about Ghost some good some bad, but at the end of the day, Ghost was just another guy to him.

—————-

The window is open crickets are like music to his ears, it's something Ghost could almost fall asleep to. Ghost lies down in his bed. He stares at the ceiling thinking about what happened today. About what happened during the mission, he nearly got shot but Y/n saved him from it. Ghost couldn't get Y/n's eyes out of his mind the look of general concern and worry that he saw in Y/ns eyes, made him feel a type of why. The way Y/n scanned the room before Y/n moved towards Ghost and checked to see if he was wounded, Y/ns touch was so gentle and caring. It almost reminded him of his mom. “ Bloody hell,” Ghost said to himself, before turning on his side to try and get some sleep.

Ghost craved more of that feeling, he wanted Y/n.

Ghost tried to talk to y/n whenever he saw the other man, but that never got far. Y/n made small conversation with Ghost to be polite, but Ghost could tell something was different it wasn't like before it was more distant. A feeling that Ghost knew too well.

-----------

Y/n stood outside early in the morning watching the sunrise. A friendly slap to his back got Y/n to look at who would do that, to no surprise it was Soap. “ Scared the shit out of Soap,” Y/n said. Soap let out a small chuckle.” Didn't think I would scare ye, lad. After all, you've been hanging around the Ghost a lot recently’ Soap said. Y/n couldn't help but let out a sigh.” Not really, don't know why he's been talking to me, it might be a stupid joke I don't know” Both Soap and Y/n looked at each other for a moment. It was silent.

“ I mean Soap he only really likes you and Price, he tolerates Gaz. He calls you Johnny which only Ghost can get away with. The both of you are almost like glue, so how could this not be a cruel joke? Do me a favor and tell Ghost to knock it off.” Y/n said. And at that moment soap looked at Y/n like he said the stupidest shit in the world. “ You're a fuckin idiot,” Soap said before giving a small slap to the back of Y/N's head. “ What the hell Soap?” Y/n said clearly annoyed at Soap's actions.

“ You think Ghost would talk to ye if he didn't like you mate? If Ghost didn't like you he would let you know. Ever cross your mind that Ghost might like you, lad? He almost looks like a puppy when he looks at you for Christ's sake!” Soap said the volume of his voice getting louder as he talked.” Ghost is pursuing you, mate! He Has a silly little crush on you. Ye know how long I had to sit there and listen to Ghost talk about you and how caring you are and you make him feel loved or some shite. Don't get me started on how long the man talked about how pretty yer eyes are, his driving me mad. And you think he doesn't like you? You’ve been dropped on the head as a child Y/n” Soap said his accent was somewhat thick as he talked. Y/n had a small blush on his face as he thought of what Soap said to him. “ Should I ask him out then or…” Y/n said shyly. Soap just gave Y/n a glare and Y/n got the message.

----------

The next time Y/n saw Ghost he stopped him. Y/n looked into Ghost's beautiful brown eyes.”Ghost you ummm, do you like me or. I don't know anymore you're hard to read.” Y/n said softly. Ghosts eyes searched Y/N's eyes for a moment. “ Like you a lot,” Ghost said with his gruff voice. “ How much is a lot Ghost,” Y/n said well gently holding Ghost's face in his hands making the brit look at him. “ Bloody hell… I like you so much that I go back to being Simon Reily for a moment don't feel like the Ghost I swore I am now.” Ghost said almost in a whisper. His hand now touching Y/ns hand that was holding his face so gently.

Y/n gave Ghost the warmest smile that matched the soft and loving look in Y/n eyes. “ Might have to stick by your side more often, I seem to like Simon Reily quite a lot,” Y/n said as he watched Ghost's dark brown eyes light up at his words. “Don't think people will believe that a Ghost can love,” Ghost said with a small chuckle. “ Well I'm not loving a ghost, I'm loving a man,” Y/n said softly.

#cod x male reader #cod x male!reader #x male reader #ghost x male reader #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #cod ghost

[helpwhatsthis]

the start (E.M.)

1982-1983

love divides pt.1 series masterlist

eddie munson x hopper! reader

“if we can’t go on, to survive the tide, love divides.” - separate way (worlds apart), journey (1983)

word count: 18k

this was a lot to edit, so there are probably mistakes! sorry!

warnings: ANGST!!! weed, alcohol, nicotine, language, vomit, attempted s.a., NO SMUT (obviously), bi eddie, hints at bi reader, litterally the sadest things i’ve ever written, both eddie and reader are underage in part one! let me know if there are any big ones i missed! this part does not have a happy ending! 

"can i please come in?" her voice is soft, so much so that he can barely hear her over the rain pounding on the trailer. 

1986:

she's drenched, makeup running messily down her puffy red face, and he wonders what's tears and what's raindrops. what the hell y/n? he knows he should be pissed, tell her to get fucked and just forget she was ever here. but he doesn't. he wraps his arm tightly around her and is astounded that after all this time she melts into him. 

"what the fuck happened to you sweetheart?" 

1982: 

it's your first day of freshman year, and while everyone else in your class is dying to get in the lunchroom and make friends with the upperclassmen, you are heading to the parking lot with a tattered copy of the scarlet letter that you had to practically beg the librarian for.

jonathan had left your side before first period had even started and you'd been running through the motions ever since. god you fucking hated the first day of school. but after three and a half hours of hell, you were finally getting some peace and quiet.

maybe.

"that other seat taken?" a voice rings through the formerly silent lot and you visibly flinch with annoyance. you look up and see a boy leaning on a van and looking at you with raised eyebrows. 

"uhm-" you start, not sure how to tell him to go fuck himself without being rude.

"i was only asking to be polite, it was my spot first, but I'll share." he states simply and you nod, looking back down at your book. 

you're looking at the pages for a minute at least, not really reading but too worried about looking back up at him. 

his hair isn't long, but definitely not trimmed or taken care of. he's wearing a t-shirt for a band you've never heard of and it leaves his long pale arms on display. 

"i'm eddie by the way." he breaks the tension and you sigh in relief, "eddie munson" he clarifies. when he hold his hand out, you shake it without hesitation. 

" y/n hopper." you reply and his eyes get wide. his hand stops moving and he grins.

"like, the chief hopper?" he asks and you nod in frustration. this was the same response you'd been getting all damn day. 

"that must be…" awesome, cool, interesting! were a few of the phrases you'd heard today before they inevitably started talking about him being a deadbeat drunk when they thought you weren't listening. 

"- a drag" he finishes and you're caught off guard at his bluntness. so much so that you can't suppress the small laugh that chokes its way up. 

"yeah, actually" you nod and give another small giggle. what the fuck was that sound? you scold yourself while he nods.

"I'm assuming you're a freshman?" he questions and you nod, to which he snorts. 

"Ah, well then, welcome to the shit show." he smiles and you break out into a fit of laughter that he matches. 

"I'm a junior, 16" he says, before you even have the chance to ask and you're quick to reply.

"I'm 14." you answer and he grimaced. you raise your brows for an explanation.

"shitty age for me" he shrugs and you respond with a silent 'oh'. 

you spend another twenty minutes talking to him before the bell rings, and even then he's showing you to your next class. it was the first one you haven't been late to all day. 

//

"what do you know about the munsons?" you ask your dad timidly. he'd insisted that you have dinner together to celebrate your first day of high school, much to your dismay. 

"which one? wayne or-" he starts and you quickly cut him off.

"eddie" you state simply and he looks up at you from his plate of spaghetti. 

"uh, got into some minor trouble in middle school for stealing and vandalism. but we kinda let it go after his dad ran out and left him with his uncle." 

you're nodding, trying not to seem too interested as you lazily move the noodles around your plate. 

"why?" he asks and you feel your chest tighten. 

"dunno" you shrug and hope it'll be the end of your conversation.

"you hear something?" hopper asks, continuing to eat.

"i met him, actually" you shrug and try to ignore the way he tenses.

 "is that a problem?" you ask after a few moments of silence. he starts to shake his head and your shoulders slump in relief. 

"no, of course not. just be careful y'know?" he looks at you, awaiting your answer but you continue to look at him confused. 

"he comes from a long line of violent weirdos, y/n. i'm not saying you have to hate him. just don't get too close." he explains and you're nodding quickly.

"you understand?" he prompts and you quickly agree. 

"i won't." you hum, continuing to eat.

but you do. 

\\

it's been three weeks since you first met eddie. you'd spent every lunch together either at the picnic table or in his van. 

you learned he's in a band, his dad left when he was fourteen, his mom when he was seven, he lived in the trailer park with his uncle wayne, and he smoked a fuck ton of weed. 

oh yeah, and his friends despise you.

it's a thursday, hopper is supposed to pick you up on thursdays because it's his day off. but it's been a little over twenty minutes since the last bell and you're huddled under the awning to hide from the rain. 

eddie is standing beside you, even though you told him he could go just about every five minutes since his friends had left. they'd been rolling their eyes at the way he insisted on staying with you until your dad arrived. 

he checks his watch and sighs. just as you're about to tell him to go again. that you'll wait a little longer or walk, he pulls your hood onto your head and trudges out into the rain holding your wrist. 

"what the shit!" you shriek when the rain starts thumping on your shoulders. 

"It's been half an hour, i'm taking you home." he explains as you both run up the hill to the parking lot, his hand still holding your arm. 

"you really don't have t-" a yelp escapes you as your feet give way to the mud under them. shit shit shit. you think, but eddie turns quickly and catches you by your elbows before you can hit the ground. 

he pulls you up and puts his arm around your shoulders, yours going around his back as he continues to trek up the hill. 

"shit, you're so helpless." he huffs in mild annoyance and your stomach drops. 

"am not" you protest as he unlocks the passenger side door and quickly ushers you in before running to the other side. 

"sure princess." he rolls his eyes and shuts his door. your stomach flips.

the first few minutes of the car ride are silent, not the comfortable relaxing kind you normally share with him. it's awkward, you've never been in the front seat, let alone while he's driving. 

"thank you for the ride." you finally whisper and he nods nonchalantly. you shut your eyes in frustration. shit please say something. 

he seems to pick up on your tension, like he always does, and reaches to turn up the radio. 

"oh hell yeah!" he shouts as the first cords of cherry bomb filter through the speakers. he turns the nob until the beats cause a small sting in your ears. 

when he starts dramatically drumming on the steering wheel you let out a small giggle. he turns his gaze to you questioningly. 

"you like the runaways?" you ask and he freezes, a small flush of embarrassment runs up his cheeks. 

"if you tell anyone, I'll kill you." he threatens and you start laughing. his own chuckled follow suite. "i'm serious!" he yells. 

when you don't answer, he reaches one hand over and starts to tickle your ribs. 

"i won't, i won't." you promise just as he swerves, you hold out your pinkie to him. he grins and he locks it with his own. 

the rest of the short car ride is spent singing and laughing, you almost wish you lived farther away. 

the rain has died down to a light mist, and just as eddie pulls up to your trailer your dad steps out of his bronco. shit.

you hadn't exactly told your dad you'd been spending so much time with eddie, opting to lie and say your weekends and lunches were spent with robin or johnathan. 

when eddie stops the van, hopper waits patiently for him to roll down the window. 

"heyy, chief hopper." eddies’ voice cracks as the words leave his mouth and you're digging your nails into your palm.

this is going to end so badly.

"thank you for bringing my daughter home, had some trouble at the station and couldn't be there on time." 

his words leave you in shock because holy shit why isn't he yelling at you? 

"of course, didn't wanna just leave her there." he laughs and hopper nods. 

"everything okay?" you ask and he huffs. 

"yeah, mrs driscoll just having another one of her fits." he says sadly, causing you and eddie to nod. 

"well uh, thanks again for the ride eddie." you smile awkwardly at him and he salutes you.

you're standing on the porch with your dad, watching eddie pull behind the trees down the long driveway when he finally speaks.

"well that's an interesting development." he scoffs and makes his way inside. shit.

//

he actually hadn't been mad once he found out you and eddie weren't dating. he knew wayne, knew he wasn't such a bad guy. he also thought eddie seemed nice enough to let you continue to hang around with him.

you were excited to tell eddie just how nerve wracking the whole experience had been as you march up to his van when the lunch bell rings. 

"of course you can come with, I just don't wanna watch you play babysitter all night." carter, one of eddies best friends, snaps crudely.

"what do you mean?" eddie asks defensively. you know it wrong to stand here and listen, but you were interested in where this was going. 

"he means don't bring that stupid freshie." donnie, a junior in your freshman math class, speaks up.

"yeah man, it's a drag. i don't even know why you hang out with her. she's a kid." says carter 

"and a cops’ daughter" donnie adds.

"she's chill, and fun to hang out with when i'm sick of you assholes." eddies explanation makes you stomach twist and your heart beat faster. 

"oh what the fuck ever, if you're gonna bone her then just do it already."  donnie exclaims.

"dude no, it's not fucking like that." he's quick to defend himself. "i don't see her like that… it's not like that at all." he sounds desperate for them to believe it. 

"sure man"

"fine, i'll tell her i have shit to do today." he promises them. 

"damn straight" carter replies, "we're gonna head out before she gets here" 

"why?" eddie asks softly.

"she's annoying as shit, man" donnie explains. you expect eddie to reply in your defense, to stick up for you. 

but he doesn't.

"i mean, i guess." his voice sounds guilty, but you don't even notice it over the way your blood begins to pound in your ears. 

you don't wait to hear anymore, turning around and hurrying back down towards the doors. 

you don't want to face any of your friends like this, moments away from tears. why do i care so much?  but you have no idea. no clue why it's so important what eddie and his friends think of you. 

you'd never had this feeling before. not when robins band friends called you weird, or when people called you a freak for hanging out with johnathan. not even when nancy told barb she should stop being friends with you. 

nancy fucking wheeler, who wasn't shit anyway. and you never gave a shit what she thought of you. 

so why did eddies opinion matter so much to you?

the tears start to fall just as you push open the doors of the empty gym. why does it feel like this? 

you hide under the bleachers and pull your knees to your chest. you try to breath, force yourself to be calm, but a sob rips from your throat. and when it does, the lights flicker. 

\\

it's been 2 days, a little over 48 hours since you last heard his voice. you'd sat with barb and nancy at lunch, and tonight you were going to robins’ after school. 

it was better than sulking in your room alone.

"so why are you coming to mine and not sitting outside eddies band practice." she seems genuinely curious, after spending the whole walk to the park complaining about her new marching band group. the "odd squad" made up of dash, kate, and milton.

"just wanted to hang out with you instead." your shrug is unconvincing and she tosses her bike down exasperatedly next to the swings. 

"that's bullshit." she states matter-of-factly. you know she’s right, but even worse, she knows she's right. she almost always is. "spill, now."

you plop down dramatically on a swing and groan. 

"his friends don't like me." is a simple statement, and coming from anyone else it would be completely reasonable. 

her eyes get wide as she sits in the swing next to you. she brought me here to interrogate me on purpose. the two of you always came to the park when you wanted to vent about your lives. 

"since when do you care about that?" she seems genuinely perplexed, me too. 

"no idea." you stare at the ground in front of you, lightly swaying your feet.

"wow, this is heartbreaking." she giggles, sarcasm laced into her tone. your eyes shoot up, glaring daggers at her. if looks could kill. 

"excuse me?" there's a bite in your voice, why are you being so defensive? 

"it's been like two weeks and you're in love with him." there's a bright smile on her face and humor behind her eyes. 

panic starts to build in your chest because, no, what the hell?

"no, absolutely not." your words come out in a rush and she smirks.

"first, no okay, just no. second, he's two years older than me. third, it's been three weeks. fourth, we're just friends." you can barely hear yourself speak, and you have no idea how robin catches any of it. 

"right, sure thing." she rolls he eyes and you let out a small 'hmph'. i don't like eddie.

right?

//

you didn't. you were adamant on the fact that you did not have any crush on eddie whatsoever. 

"where the shit have you been?" his voice rings out above the crowd fighting their way into the cafeteria. 

he grips your shoulder and spins you around, your heart already thumping harder in your chest. 

an excitement washes over you just by seeing him, just by a moment of his voice. 

nope, you're mad. remember?

"sorry, thought i'd give you a break from my annoying as shit-ness." there's more sarcasm in the single sentence than you think you've ever used in your life. and you were raised by jim hopper. 

his face morphs from confusion to guilt as he processes your words. 

it's been three days since he talked to you, two since he came to school excited to show you his first ever tattoo, and one since he realized there's probably something wrong.

after he had the realization on the drive home from carol's, which he'd never admit to anyone, it had consumed him. 

he hadn't heard of anything happening to your dad, so he'd crossed that out quickly. there also hadn't been any defieling news on the friends you'd told him about. 

he'd also never admit to anyone that he was fucking worried about you. 

“look it wasn’t like that princess.” he looks nerve wracked, something you’re not used to seeing on him. “i didn’t mean that, just wanted them to leave it alone.” he reasons, his eyes pleading. there’s a small pout to his features; he looks genuinely upset. 

goddamn him and his stupid face. 

“i’m still mad, but i don’t think i can stand another second of nancy staring at steve.” his eyes lighten up. “let’s go, i’m hungry.” 

you start walking to the doors that lead to the parking lot, not giving him a second look. he’s following behind you though, not missing a beat. 

you nearly puke on the blankets beneath you after taking a bite of your sandwich, spitting it out the door. 

“what’s wrong with it?” eddie asks across from you. 

“it’s supposed to be ham, but robins mom made it.” you explain, chucking it into the grass. he raises his eyebrows at you in question. “she’s a hippie.” you clarify. he starts laughing hysterically. 

“she must love you, being a cops’ daughter and all.” you laugh, recalling the way she’d gasped when you’d introduced yourself to her for the first time. 

“she feels bad for me.” you chuckle and eddie nods. it’s quiet for a moment; there's no sound except the breeze rustling the trees in the distance. 

“he likes you by the way.” you state offhandedly. “my dad.” 

“really?” the shock is evident on his face, a pretzel nearly falling from his mouth. 

“yeah, once he found out we weren’t dating.” you explain. “thinks you’re respectful or something.” you muse, causing his snort. 

“never thought the chief of police would find me respectful.” he says in disbelief and you agree. 

he shows you his new tattoo, playfully threatening to kick you out of the van when you tell him it looks like the bats from the intro to scooby-doo. within the thirty minute span, it’s as if the past three days hadn’t happened. 

you can barely remember what it feels like to be mad at him when he smiles at you like that. 

\\

it’s been almost four months since you met eddie. the two of you had spent nearly everyday with one another. 

it stopped being a shock to hopper to come home from a late night of work, seeing eddie sitting on the couch looking at the tv without really seeing it, you asleep on his lap. 

he’d started teaching you how to play guitar, taken you to your first party on halloween, and even had begun forcing his friends to include you. 

the last few months had been so good, you’d all but stopped hearing the droning thoughts of hawkins residents as you drifted to sleep. it’s was easier to keep others' thoughts out when he was playing with your hair. 

“i should probably go, it’s getting late.” he thinks out loud, patting your ankle that’s spayed across his thighs. 

“isn’t your heat out at home?” you ask, your voice groggy. he smiles at your concern and shrugs. 

“it’s not a big deal hun.” he shakes his head, trying to get you to lay back down and stop worrying. 

“just stay here for the night, kid.” your dad offers, finishing the can of beer in his hand. 

“oh no, i couldn’t impose.” he says quickly, but hopper shakes his head. 

“eddie it’s freezing.” you try to persuade, but he’s not having it. 

before he can act though, your dad is up. he grabs eddies keys off the counter and starts to walk toward his room. 

“pull the spare mattress from under your bed for him.” he instructs, and you're heading towards your room in seconds. 

you pull the mattress out just as he walks in; he’s rolling his eyes as you throw blankets and pillows onto it.

“thank you, brat.” he beams, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

oh yeah, one more thing. you had fallen inexplicably in love with him. something you had finally admitted to yourself on halloween night. 

you had been high, about to throw up, and he’d left to take you home. even though he was having a good time, even though his friends and the people he was dealing to were pissed, even though you know he probably didn’t want to. 

you’d been sitting in the passenger seat, head lulling against the window, when the song ‘eddie my love’ started playing on the radio. you’d gasped, which quickly turned into a fit of giggles when he rolled his eyes. 

but singing the lyrics made it feel all too real all of a sudden. you’d jerked your door open and threw up. 

“shit sweetheart, are you okay?” he’d panicked, while you sat hunched, trying to breathe. 

“you left me last september to return to me before long, but all i do is cry myself to sleep, eddie since you’ve been gone.” 

he’d carried you in the house to bed, giving you a mint and a glass of water. 

“just sleep it off, princess. you’ll feel better in the morning.” he promised. he’d stayed with you all night, rubbing your scalp and quieting the little cries you made in your sleep. 

1983:

it’s january now, the fuzzy lining of eddies’ big jean jacket protecting you from the bite of the wind. 

you’re walking around a mall in kentucky with eddie, donnie, carter, and carters’ girlfriend, olivia. she actually seemed to like you in the short amount of time you’d gotten to know her. 

“c’mon!” she gasps, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to a rack of prom dresses. you sit on a bench and watch her look through them, holding the ones she liked so she could try them on.  

“oh my god, this would look so pretty on you.” she gawks, pulling one out. 

“i can’t go to prom, i’m a freshman.” you remind her, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your voice as you speak to the senior. 

“you can go if you’re invited.” she explains and you laugh. 

“yeah but what are the odds of-”

“i’ll take you.” eddies’ voice cuts off your own from behind you. he comes up and hands you a slushy. 

he can’t be serious. you think; the look on the other boys' faces show that they’re thinking it too. you’d never voluntarily put on a dress in your life. but as you look at the dress, something in you wants it. you can’t help but think the dark green fabric would complement your pale features. 

“really?” you ask shyly, taking a sip of the liquid sugar to hide the hope on your face. 

“duh, who else would go to prom with me.” he shrugs nonchalantly, looking at the dress in olivias’ hands. 

“here, i’ll help you try it on.” she smiles, taking your hand and leading you to the dressing room. 

the dress fits you like a glove, and she spins you to look in the mirror. holy shit. you feel so fucking pretty. 

her chin rests on your shoulder, a cheshire grin on her face. 

“you’re getting it.” he decides, grabbing your elbow and pulling you out the door. “boys! come here!.” 

they all turn to look at you; your whole body heats up in embarrassment. when eddies’ eyes land on your figure, he smirks and starts clapping. 

“you like it?” he asks, looking at you softly. you nod shyly and the goofiest smile breaks out onto his face. “looks like you’re going to prom.” 

you’re going to prom with eddie munson. 

you spend all the money hopper gave you for the day, and another fifteen from eddie buying the dress and green converse to match. olivia had wanted you to get heels, but eddie had scolded her. 

“one step at a time.” he chided, sensing your worry. 

you're in the passenger seat on the way home, much to donnies’ annoyance. 

“and now, the new hit single by journey: separate ways.” the radio host announces and you reach to turn it up. 

“they’ve been playing this damn song nonstop for the past two weeks.” carter groans. you know it’s true, you’ve heard it nearly once everyday since it came out. but you never tire of it. 

“i like it.” you defend and eddie smiles lightly. 

“you would.” donnie says sarcastically, followed by a loud ‘ow’ as olivia kicks him. 

when you walk in the door of the trailer, your dad is rushing around to get dressed. 

“what’s wrong?” you ask, grip on the shoe box tightening. eddie’s standing behind you, holding your dress wrapped in plastic. 

“forgot i had a date tonight.” he explains, then freezes mid-step. “what the hell is that?” he asks, pointing at eddie. 

“a prom dress…” you trail meekly. the anxiety quickly fades though when a bright smile stretches across his face. “you’re going to prom?” he muses. you nod and he chuckles. “and you’re wearing a dress?” he asks in disbelief. 

“yeah.” you reply softly. he looks up at eddie, whos nodding with a smirk. 

“good job.” he laughs, patting eddie on the arm. 

“what?” you say, confusion lacing your voice. 

“just never thought that would be your thing.” he shrugs. “what was i doing?” 

“your date.” eddie reminds him and he jerks into action.

“i can go to robins for the night.” you offer and he shakes his head. 

“no, you don’t have to do that.” he insists. eddie interjects. 

“you can stay with me if you want.” eddie suggests, looking at hopper for approval. 

“i mean you can if you want.” he answers. “but you don’t have to.” 

“i’ll put these away and get a bag.” you tell eddie quickly.

you’d been to eddies’ before, but never really long enough to look around. now, you're standing in front of a small sliver of his wall he’d devoted to postcards. he’s laying on his bed, head hanging off the end with a cigarette between his lips. 

“they’re from my aunt, well ex-aunt.” he explains, blowing smoke from his nose. “after her and my uncle got a divorce she started traveling a lot, and when my dad left she started sending me them.” the tone of his voice makes your chest tight. 

“that’s so sweet.” you hum back, trying to keep the topic away from his dad. he’d only ever told you about him in depth one time, during which he’d started crying. 

“yeah, she’s so nice. if she comes up in the spring i’ll introduce you to her.” you turn and smile at him, nodding softly. when you reach for the cigarette in his hand he jerks it away quickly. 

“no ma’am, weed is one thing. i’m not getting you started on these too.” he protests. 

“but you do it.” you argue back and he rolls his eyes.

“that’s because i have no regard for my own personal well being.” he responds, and it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “i don’t give a shit about what happens to me.” he shrugs. 

“i do.” you state; he grins. 

“fine.” he breathes out more smoke before sitting up and putting it out in the ashtray on his nightstand. “happy?” 

“a little.” you giggle and he does too. 

he reaches for the guitar at the end of his bed and pats his thigh when he settles back in place. you make your way to him, sitting on his lap facing away from him. you place your fingers on the cords without needing his guidance. you start strumming the notes of a song he’d taught you; he chucks softly. you can feel the vibrations of his laugh against your back.

“you're getting better.” he praises; your face grows warm. he places his chin on your shoulder as you continue to play. you fumble a few times, cursing slightly under your breath. he’d mutter a soft ‘s’okay’ before urging you to continue. 

when the tips of your fingers are red from the rough cords, he pulls the instrument from your grip and leans to put it back in place. when he’s done, he flops down on the bed, pulling you with him. 

your legs are tangled together, his arms around your waist. when his nose brushes the back of your neck you release a shaky breath. you lay there with him in silence, hoping to god he can’t hear how loud your heart is beating. 

even through your inner panic, it’s nice. it’s so relaxing to be in his arms. he invades every part of your senses. the only grounding you have is the weight of his arm across your body. 

“should probably go to bed.” he hums into your hair. you nod softly in agreement, beginning to crawl to the head of his bed. 

//

the fluorescents burn your eyes as they focus on the paper in front of you. the scraping of metal on linoleum pulls your eyes up to the doctor sitting across from you. 

“you’re excelling, y/n” he states. it should make you feel better, but it doesn’t. “you’re smarter than the others.” you shrug.

something isn’t right, you have a strange sense of deja vu. ‘i’ve lived this before.’ your mind rings. you look down at your hands, so pale the skin is practically translucent. 

“hell, you’re smarter than most fully grown adults.” he explains further. you look back at the photo in front of you. “that’s why we want you to do this.” 

“do what?” you ask timidly, mind fuzzy. 

“this man, he’s trying to bring down everything we’ve worked to build. he won’t hurt a child though. if he breaks in, we need you to be the one to kill him.” 

you stare intensely at the photo, an i.d. photo of an nypd officer. 

“no.” the statement is simple; his face screws up in disappointment. 

“y/n-” he starts.

“no, i won’t do it.” you protest. the lights flicker and he shakes his head. 

there’s a harsh crackling behind you and you instinctively wince. 

“don’t make it harder than it has to be.” he threatens. you lean forward, glaring into his eyes. 

“no.” your small voice comes out as a growl. 

but now you're screaming, begging the hash electricity burning your back to just stop. it doesn’t it never does. 

you’re pulled from your sleep by your own scream. eddie is up in less than a second, pulling you up and examining your figure. 

your whole body is shaking, tears running down your face. 

“oh baby, come here it’s okay.” he tries to shush your sobs as he pulls you up into his chest. you can barely breath, your airway constricting with every attempt. “it’s okay, it was just a nightmare.” 

there’s fear in his voice, but you can’t even feel bad with the way your lower back is throbbing. you continue to gasp for breath in his chest, fingers gripping tightly to his shirt. your tears have created a large wet spot on his shirt, but he doesn’t care. 

“it’s okay princess, you’re here with me. you’re safe here with me.” he coos, hands running up and down your back. when his fingertips brush the spot that’s burning you give a sharp cry that has him jerking his hand back. you continue to cry and he lifts the hem of your shirt in confusion. 

he can see your skin is darkly flushed, little scars littering the area. he experimentally runs the tip of his pinky over one. it’s puffy and pushing away from the rest of your skin. you let out another loud whine, body jerking away from the contact. 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry honey.” he apologizes profusely, dropping the fabric in his hand and going back to comforting you. 

you sit in his arms for nearly half an hour. you’re still trembling and you’ve barely stopped crying when you pull your head back to look at him. his head tilts to the side, examining you with concern like a puppy. 

“i’m really sorry.” you croak out with embarrassment. 

“no, it’s okay princess.” he promises. he sees that you’re covered in sweat and still slightly shaking. “let me get you some water.” 

he begins to pull away, but you hold him tighter and cry out again. a jar full of weed on his nightstand shatters, causing you both to gasp and grip one another. you watch it, something distant in your eyes that fills him with worry. after a moment, both of his hands find the hem of your damp shirt again. 

“can i?” he whispers, eyes meeting your own briefly. you finally notice the wetness clinging to you uncomfortably. you nod solemnly, lifting your arms. 

he pulls the garment off slowly, trying not to hurt you. he tosses the shirt to the floor and looks back at you, sitting in his lap in only your bra and sleep shorts. an ache fills his chest. he wishes he could just make your shaking stop, even for a second. 

he pulls you back down into a lying position, one hand cradling your head in his chest while the other rubs small circles on your back below your bra strap. even with distance, he can feel an intense heat radiating from the red part below. 

“you’re always safe with me princess.” he breathes as your eyes flutter shut, falling into a peaceful sleep. 

when you wake again, there's streams of sunlight leaking in through the window. eddies’ arms are still tightly wrapped around you, your nose is pressed to his chest. you breathe in deeply, inhaling a scent that’s purely him.

you try to pull away, muscles protesting with an ache that’s begging you to stay in bed. his arms tighten, pulling you back in. his eyes open just enough to see what you’re doing. 

“gotta pee.” you whisper, not wanting to pull him out of his sleepy daze. he barely nods, arm lifting to allow your movement. you slowly exit the covers and try not to wake him any further. he’s already out again by the time you reach down to pick up one of his shirts from the floor. 

your shoulder blades pop, body screaming for the movement to stop as you pull the clothing over your head. there’s a painful pressure in the small of your back that makes your legs wobbly and hard to walk on. 

when you get done washing your hands you glance at yourself in the mirror. you’re taken back by how exhausted you look. there are dark bags under your eyes, the skin raw from crying. your eyes themselves are bloodshot. your skin seems washed out, hair greasy from dried sweat. 

there’s a burning in your side, causing you to pull the tee up to see your ribs. the barcode tattooed there is puffy and raw, looking almost fresh. you know rationally that it’s not, that it’s been there for as long as you can remember. 

your eyes must be playing tricks on you; because when you look back up you can only think that you look younger. sicker. weaker.  you squeeze your eyes shut and try to ward off the tears. 

after a moment you huff and begin your trek back to his room. you don’t want him to see you like this, but the idea of being by yourself- away from him- for a second longer threatens to drown you in panic. in false loneliness. because you know you’re never alone now. now that he’s with you everyday. 

when you enter his room, he’s sitting against his headboard with a cigarette between his lips. a warmth fills your chest; it shadows the sluggishness and exhaustion in your bones. 

“watch the glass.” he calls a moment too late. you hiss, more from shock than pain as the shards pierce your skin. he reaches and pulls you into the bed, tutting softly.

he shakes his head as he examines your foot. he’s got it in his lap as he pulls the glass from it. 

“what are we gonna do with you.” he laughs. you roll your eyes and look away. you can’t keep looking at your blood on his fingertips. 

after he’s assured that your foot is okay and the glass is cleaned up, he’s got you laying in his lap on the couch. ‘the texas chainsaw massacre’ plays on the tv; he’s got his chin propped on the top of your head as he watches. 

“you wanna talk about it?” he whispers, trying not to wake his uncle who’s asleep in the other room. 

yes. you want to curl up and cry and tell him how terrified you were to be back in that place. you want so badly to tell him everything. you know you owe him an explanation for scaring the shit out of him the night before. 

but you can’t. 

“not really.” you murmur. your heart clenches, begging you to be honest with him. his hand snakes out, reaching to squeeze your own. 

“okay.” he mumbles into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your head. 

you spend the rest of the day there with him. he never pushes you to talk, just comforting you in a way only he can. 

\\

“this is so stupid.” you laugh. he’s in the water below you, dopey smile splayed on his features. february 14th is far too early to be swimming, even in a heated pool. 

“that’s what makes it fun.” he insists. 

after carter and olivia got back from their valentines date they had called and insisted that you, eddie, and donnie come over and make use of carters’ big empty house. olivia is wrapped up in carters arms in the water, donnie behind you smoking a blunt while eddie tries to convince you to get in. 

“come on princess, it’ll be fun.” he promises; you can’t deny that the steam rolling off the water he’s submerged in looks much more inviting than the winter air prickling your face. 

“get in or i’ll push you.” donnie threatens. eddies’ persuasive smile turns into a glare. 

“don’t you fucking dare.” he defends. 

“fuck it.” you shrug, beginning to unbutton your jeans. you shuck them off your legs, wincing at the cold as you throw them onto a pool chair. eddie whoops and starts clapping. you bite your lip and muster the courage to pull your sweater over your head. 

before you can talk yourself out of it, you jump in. the heat immediately envelops your skin. when you come back up eddie is laughing, the hearty sound creating a warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with the water. 

you blink the chlorine out of your eyes, only for eddie to splash you. 

“asshole!” you squeal, beginning to fling water at him. you’re laughing and splashing each other for a few minutes before he swims up behind you and wraps his arms around you. 

“god, you’re freezing.” he whispers, nose brushing under your ear. you standing there in his arms for a few moments, basking in the heat of his skin. 

he sways you lightly. your eyes flutter shut, the now cold droplets run down your cheeks from your lashes. a ghost of his breath fans over your shoulder. it’s almost easy to forget that anyone but the two of you exist. 

“the two of you are so adorable.” olivia beams. you know it’s the alcohol in her system and carter sucking on her neck, but you love the way she says it. the two of  you. love what it implies. 

“isn’t she though?” eddie laughs, starting to tickle you. his fingers dancing across your ribs causing you to wriggle out of his grip. but he’s stronger than you, or you let him think he is, as he holds you in place. 

“what the hell is that?” you’re all pulled from your laughter by donnies’ question. your gaze follows his finger to your ribs, eddie moving your arm to do the same. his eyes find the dark splotch, face contorting in confusion. 

under any other circumstances you’d be panicking. eddies’ frame so close to your own keeps the feeling at bay. his fingers brush the inked skin, head tilting softly in examination. 

“dunno.” you lie “had it all my life.” 

“tattooed as a baby? that’s fuckin rad.” carter laughs, causing you and eddie to chuckle while oliva slaps his shoulder. 

“guy, it’s snowing.” donnie intejects again. 

once you’re inside, carter and olivia are fumbling up the stairs. donnie calls a quick goodbye as eddie tosses you your backpack. 

“go change.” he mumbles as the front door closes. when you exit the bathroom, he’s sitting in front of the fireplace. you make your way to him quickly, prying your way under the blanket wrapped around him. he’s shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. 

“shit, babydoll. your fucking lips are blue.” he cries out in concern, thumb trailing across the bottom one. 

“i’m okay, really.” you promise. he pulls you into his lap, heated skin warming you. 

you sit with him in silence; eyes fixed on the flames before you. it’s peaceful. you don’t know when you fell into this routine of ignoring the way he makes your heart beat faster every time he’s near. it was hellish to pretend you didn’t have feelings for him, but it was normal for you by now. the squeaking from the floor above you pulls you out of your daze. 

“oh god!” eddie groans. you start to laugh hysterically. 

“ew.” you choke out between giggles. 

“your poor baby ears.” he huffs. he clasps his hands over your ears, which only makes you laugh harder. “keep it down up there!” he shouts. 

when the sounds finally stop, he reaches for the pack of cigarettes from his bag. he takes a long drag once it’s lit. there’s a fluttering in your stomach as he lets the smoke pour from his nose. you try to ignore it by making a keening sound and reaching for his hand. he holds it out of your reach. 

“just this once.” he warns, slotting the stick between your fingers. you inhale ignoring the horrid tastes as the smoke burns your lungs. your whole body feels weightless when you exhale. you lay your head back on his shoulder, it seems too heavy for you to hold on your own. 

“light headed?” he quizzes. you know you’re nodding, but you can’t feel it. “i’m such a terrible influence.” he says amusedly. he leans forward to take a drag through the filter that you’re still holding. his lips brush your finger and your stomach gives another small jolt. 

“i can’t wait to get the hell out of here.” he hums, a distance in his eyes. 

“what do you mean?” you whisper back. 

“hawkins.” he clarifies. he looks out the window toward the snowy backyard. “go somewhere it’s warm. just me and my guitar and whoever the hell is lucky enough to come with me.” there’s a sadness in his tone. you don’t dwell on it, choosing to take another hit instead. “let’s run away.” 

“right now?” you playfully ask. he laughs, nose brushing the start of your cheekbone as he puffs out a cloud of smoke. 

“how about this?” he starts. “for your next birthday, i’ll take you anywhere you want to go. you’ll be sixteen and i’ll be almost eighteen. we can do anything you want.” you turn to look at him, nose bumping his own. 

“that sounds perfect.” you grin. you wonder what it would be like to close the minute distance between your mouths. 

“better than the skateboard i got you this year?” you recall the morning he’d showed up at your house with the shiny board in hand. school had been closed for snow and he’d spent the whole day in the empty parking lot with you while you taught yourself how to ride it. when the cold had finally been too much for the both of you, he’d brought you home and cleaned up your scraped knees. 

“definitely.” you reply. a lazy smile adorns his face as he nods. 

“guess now we have to.” nothing has ever sounded better to you. 

“i love you.” you whisper, chest tight. the three seconds of silence feel like three billion years. 

“i love you too, kiddo.” he laughs. kiddo, that fucking stings. but you smile, he loves you too. “i think you’re my best friend actually.” 

you don’t understand, you’re my everything eddie. you want to protest. 

“you’re mine, hands down.” you shrug back. 

“better fuckin be.” he chuckles, finishing the ciggarett and throwing the stub into the fire. 

// 

“it’s gonna hurt, sweetheart.” eddies’ voice pulls you from your thoughts. you’re splayed out of donnies’ uncles’ couch. your shirt is pulled up, pants pulled down just enough to expose your hip bone. eddie is trying to talk you down while donnies uncle, james, prepares the needle. he’s squatting on the floor at the end of the couch, face over yours while he speaks.  

“i know.” you breath. he smiles down at you with sympathy. 

“it’s not too late to opt out.” he reminds, hand reaching for yours. 

“alright, you ready?” james asks. you give a shaky nod. 

“you can’t fucking tell your dad about this.” donnie says angrily. eddie glares at him. 

“i know.” you repeat. james holds the small paper you’d given him up to the light. 

“you drew this?” he asks, turning the image towards yours and eddies line of vision. it’s a small sketch of an open switchblade. you give a small nod and a polite smile. 

“it’s gonna be so bitchin.” eddie grins. 

the buzz fills your ears as the tattoo gun comes to life. james glances up at you, to which you nod in confirmation. when the needle meets your skin your face screws up in a small wince. eddie presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“contact is made, people.” james calls out, beginning to move the instrument. olivia claps from carters’ lap.  

once it’s moving it’s not so bad. you’ve definitely had worse. the room is quiet, soft sounds from whatever was on tv and the buzzing filling the space. every so often your skin would snag on the needle and pull, eddie softly squeezing your hand for comfort. you have no idea how long you sit like that, watching the ink make home on your flesh. 

“okay, this next layer is going to hurt worse. after that it’ll be done though.” james warns. eddies soft brown eyes meet your own. 

“i got you.” he whispers, fingers lacing into yours. when the needle meets the raw flesh again, you let out a small whine. eddies’ face contorts in displeasure. olivia comes into your sight, leaning down to whisper something in eddies’ ear while pointing at the spot on your hip. he nods softly. 

“hold on tight, going over the bone bump.” james informs. you dig your teeth into your bottom lip in preparation. you give a small gasp when the needle hits the spot. you’re not given time to register the pain though; because eddies’ lips are pressing into your own. 

you’re in complete shock, body both tensing and relaxing at the same time. he tastes like beer and whatever candy he’d had been in his mouth. there’s also another thing, something you can’t quite place that’s so purely him. his knuckles lightly rub the underside of your jaw. 

“all done.” james says triumphantly. eddies’ mouth releases from your own, a small string of saliva on his lips. he licks it away as his eyes travel to your new tattoo. your head is spinning, breathing irregular. 

what the fuck just happened? 

\\

“we should go as rogue and gambit for halloween this year.” his voice pulls you from absentmindedly playing with the hem of your pajama bottoms. 

“aren’t they like… a thing?” you ask meekly. you know they are, and you want to scream ‘god yes!’ immediately. 

“well, yeah. but it could be fun.” he suggests. 

“yeah.” you nod, going back to playing with the hem of your pants. you hadn’t really spoken a lot since you left james’ today, and he was starting to worry. 

“if they’re bothering it, you should take them off.” he instructs. you nod and begin to pull the fabric down your legs. 

“it itches.” you mumble. 

“i think i have something for that.” he says, reaching to open the drawer of his nightstand. 

“should it be bruised?” you ask. he turns back to you, a small tin in hand. 

“ones on a bone usually do.” he informs, pulling the lid off. “lemme see.” 

he applies the gel-like substance to your skin softly, careful not to press too hard. 

“i hope it didn’t hurt you too bad.” he whispers, rubbing his fingers on his shirt and tossing the tin toward your backpack. 

“eh, kinda liked it.” you shrug. he chuckles

“little masochist.” he laughs, ruffling your hair. “i’m uh… sorry if i made you uncomfortable today.” he whispers. his voice is barely loud enough for you to hear. your heart starts to beat faster. you really don’t want to talk about it. 

“it’s okay. just startled me.” you state. his eyes meet yours, something guilty behind them. 

“was that your first kiss?” he asks somberly. embarrassment floods your being, tinting your cheeks pink. you nod shyly. “oh god, honey i’m so sorry.” he hides his face in his hands. 

“it’s okay, really.” you say, maybe a bit too quickly. “it could have been worse, i could have had it with some random asshole that i’d break up with one day.” you urge, attempting to pull his hands from his face. 

“i guess, but i just took it from you and i didn’t even ask and-” he begins to ramble. 

“eddie, it’s okayyy.” you practically whine. “at least i got it over with, and i don’t have to worry about being laughed at for being bad my first time.” 

“oh you’re definitely not bad at it.” he states, peering out from between his fingers. your jaw drops in shock, eyes widening. “that sounded so much worse!” he shouts, throwing himself face down on the bed dramatically. 

“no no no, eddieee” you laugh, attempting to roll him over. “it’s okay, eds. i swear.” it comes out as a pout. 

“really?” he asks, peeking at you. you nod, awkward smile on your face. he sits up, fully looking at you. “you promise you’re not mad?” an idea pops into your head. 

don’t you fucking do it! the logical part of your brain screams. you don’t listen to it as you lean forward and press your lips to his. he gives a small gasp as you slot your mouth against his. this time he tastes like weed and grape juice, but still completely eddie. just as you’re about to pull away, his hands come up and stroke your jaw. he leans into you gently, kissing back. nope, this can’t be happening, it's too much. you pull back, panting slightly. 

“see, i promise i’m not mad.” you choke out. a fake smile makes its way to your face, praying your nerves don’t show through. he laughs.

“was this your plan? get me stoned and get kissing lessons?” he continues to snicker. 

“don’t be a dick.” you groan, lightly kicking his knee. 

“y’know what scratch what i said. you could use some practice.” he says sarcastically. you groan again, throwing yourself back into his pillows. it’s silent for a moment. why in the fucking fuck did you just do that? you sigh, slinging your arm to cover your face. “what’s wrong?” he breathes, fingers rubbing your knee. 

“now i’m worried i made you mad.” the words sound strangled leaving your lips. he laughs, resentment seating itself in your limbs. 

“i’m not.” he says. you can feel the bed dipping as he crawls toward you. “it’s okay, friends kiss all the time.” his fingers wrap around your wrist, putting your face in view. 

“really?” you continue to pout. he nods, soft smile gracing his features. “i don’t think olivia would be happy to hear you’re kissing her boyfriend.” you tease, trying to ease your own tension. he breaks out into a fit of laughter. 

“carter? maybe. donnie?-” he trails off.

“definitely not.” you finish. you both look at each other, fighting (and failing) to keep from wheezing. “wait-” you freeze. his word finally set in your brain. he can see the realization cross your face. 

you can see him start to panic. the cute smile you love leaves his face and his hands start to shake. 

“i don’t- i mean i didn’t i-” he gasps, trying to find his words. 

“no eddie it’s okay.” you try to reach out for him, but he pulls away from you. tears prick at his water line. 

“y/n, please-” he sobs, biting the inside of his cheek. his eyes won’t meet yours; his trembling getting worse. 

“it’s okay, i swear i won’t tell anyone.” you plead, reaching for him again. he lets you embrace him, but he’s tense in your arms and you feel so fucking bad. “i just didn’t know that you-” he nods, his tears soaking your shoulder. you sit like that for a moment, rocking him softly and letting him cry. “so… is it just guys or like?” don’t be selfish! your mind screams. 

“n-no.” he stutters into the skin above your shirt collar. “god, you probably think i’m so disgusting.” another sob leaves his throat; his arms grip you tighter. 

“no eddie, of course not.” you whisper into his ear, hands going to run through his hair. “i get it, everyone is hot sometimes.” you shrug. “nothing like that could ever make me think less of you.” you can feel his body slump in relief. “now if you told me you liked donnie or steve harrington or some shit i’d probably think you’re gross.” he pulls back, a small gasp leaving his lips as he dramatically throws his hands against his chest.

“you don’t like steve harringtons’ magnificent hair?” he says if false bewilderment. his face is red, eyes puffy and still leaking tears. “how dare you? god are you even female?” he asks accusingly. you giggle. 

“nah, yours is far better since you decided to let it grow out.” you hum, reaching to run your fingers through the fluff behind his ear. he grins, a real smile that puts one on your face as well. 

“you think?” he asks, glancing at your hand as you continue to play with the soft tuft. 

“oh yeah.” you muse, softly thumbing the tears off his cheeks. he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “i’m sorry if i scared you.” he shakes his head. 

“i’ve never told anyone before.” he whispers. 

//

“stop worrying, you look perfect.” olivia chides, resting her chin on your shoulder. the green dress is hugging your frame, hair and makeup (done by olivia and her mom) done perfectly. “eddie is gonna think you look so pretty.” he smirks. 

since the night you’d slept over at her house, she’d been relentless in her comments about you and eddie. the boys were downstairs in the kitchen, arguing over pizza while the two of you arranged her floor to accommodate five people. her parents were away on a vacation, so the group had practically lived there the whole week of spring break. 

“you need to tell him that you like him before i leave for college and don’t get to see it!” she’d said, throwing a pillow at you. 

“he’s my best friend. it’s not like that.” you had argued. she’d simply rolled her eyes and huffed out a ‘sure’ in response. 

“come on, let’s get this over with.” you groan, beginning to exit the bathroom. when you step into the foyer of the living room, you immediately spot eddie, donnie, and carter standing with the dads while carters’ and olivias’ moms prepare the camera. donnies’ dad is nowhere to be found, even though he’d promised he’d be here. 

“we’re ready!” olivia calls, smiling brightly from beside you. everyones’ gaze perks up immediately. when eddies’ eyes land on you, his face softens and the slightest side smile plays on his lips. 

after nearly a half hour of being directed around for pictures, you’re finally given the okay to leave. as you’re getting ready to load in the van, donnie begins to argue with you. eddie is too lost in conversation with hopper to notice. 

“donnie, she’s his date so she’s going to sit in the passenger seat.” carter groans, obviously annoyed as he waits for his mother to stop fawning over his girlfriend. 

“why the shit do you always get the front seat?” he snaps, puffing his chest out. 

“because i’m eddies’ goddamn favorite!” you respond matter-of-factly. 

“language children!” carters’ dad shouts. eddie quickly comes to unlock the door, ushering you into the van. 

“this is fucking bullshit.” donnie whispers under his breath and truges to get in the back with carter and olivia. eddie turns back to you with a smile. 

“just because you know you’re my favorite doesn’t mean you should rub it in everyones’ face.” he playfully scolds. 

it’d been nearly two hours since then, two hours of laughing and giggling with eddie. you’d been making fun of peoples’ hair, dresses and makeup nearly non-stop. he’s dancing sillily with you to ‘don’t you want me’ by the human league and you feel like you’re on top of the world. for the past couple weeks you had been dreading prom; but you were actually having fun. the music suddenly cuts off’ turning to something slow. he grimaces. 

“do you have any idea how to slow dance?” he asks, putting his hands on your waist. his soft grip makes your skin tingle. 

“a little, my grandpa taught me the first time i met him.” you whisper back. you don’t think you could speak any louder without your voice faltering. 

“good.” he laughs, guiding your hands to his shoulders. “because i have no idea; so i need you to teach me.” nerves fill your stomach. you nod shyly, beginning to slowly sway his movements. 

without the loud and energetic music you suddenly feel much more on display. everything feels much more open and intense, especially with his gaze on you. there are people, couples, dancing together on every side of you. it suddenly feels wrong for you to be here. anxiety makes your limbs tingly and your body unbalanced. but eddie’s there with comforting words and soft touches, like he always is. his fingers grasp your chin and pull your face to look at his own. 

“don’t worry about them. they don’t matter.” he breathes. his deep brown eyes feel like they’re looking into your soul as the hushed words leave his mouth. “no one matters but us.” 

his words make you smile and bury your face into his chest. a light headed feeling washes over you, better than any high you’ve ever had. 

how did he get you this way? it seemed that in the nine months you’d know him, your whole world had changed. how long had it been since you’d talked to jonathan? or robin? how long had it been since you’d spent a full twenty-four hours without eddie by your side? how long had it been since the name ‘freak’ stopped burning your chest when it was yelled at you in the hallway?  and most importantly, how long had it been since you’d had a single coherent thought about a human being that wasn’t him? 

these questions rattle your thoughts to the point they almost become deafening. but when eddies’ lips place a small kiss to the top of your head, you realize you don’t care. 

you look up into his eyes again. the lights strung up around the ceiling reflected in his irises. 

you don’t care in the slightest. 

because it doesn’t matter as much as he does. you’d give up every single friend you’ve ever had, get called any awful name in existence, and lose any moment of alone time for the rest of your life if it means they all get to be spent with him. you would give anything to stay this way with him forever. but nothing lasts forever. 

“hey eddie!” olivias’ voice captures both of your attention. “do you have any weed in the van?” she asks quietly. 

“or your flask?” carter furthers hopefully. eddie looks down at you momentarily before nodding at them.

“i’ve got something better.” he smirks, leaning you all out of the gym. 

once in the van, he pulls up the hide-away seat to reveal the biggest bag of weed you’ve ever seen, a bottle of vodka, and two cases of beer. 

“god, you’re the fucking best!” carter shouts. his hand slaps eddies shoulder in approval before reaching for a beer. 

nearly three hours later, you’re laying on the top of the van staring at the stars. you’re parked in the hess’ field on the outskirts of town, the other three dropped off long ago. the glass bottle is nearly empty and the second blunt is almost burnt out. 

you can’t bring yourself to form a thought, the numbing lightness too much to complete the action. the chilly night air of spring pricks your arms, but you barely notice as you stare at the sky. the galaxy is so beautiful, but eddies’ eyes are still my favorite. 

“you wanna go swimming?” he asks suddenly, pulling you from your daze. 

“why is that your first suggestion every time you get stoned?” you giggle. 

“because it’s fun, duh!” he states obviously, rolling his eyes. “c’mon, we’re going.” he decides. he jumps off the roof, quickly pulling you down into the damp grass. 

“where the hell are we going to swim at?” you slur, following as he pulls you along. 

the dew wets your bare feet as you walk on shaky legs. you giggle at the way they shine in the moonlight. he shushes you, pointing down the hill. after a second of squinting, and nearly falling, you can see the small pond he’s gesturing to. 

on the trek there you slide nearly seven times, eddie barely being able to hold you up himself. once you reach the waters edge he quickly begins pulling off his clothes, you reach for your own zipper and whine. 

“wait! eddie i’m not wearing a bra under my dress!” the realization nearly brings tears to your eyes in your cross faded state. 

“it’s not a big deal, y/n. it’s just me.” he shrugs, finally down to his boxers. you shrug. 

“then help me with my zipper.” you whimper out. he clumsily makes his way behind you, knuckles running along the soft skin of your back as he pulls the zipper all the way down. you shudder at the touch, letting the dress slide off your body. the breeze hit the exposed skin of your chest, making you hiss and back into him. he wraps his arms around you and softly guides you into the water. 

you’re too far gone to feel self-conscious about being practically naked as he begins to splash you. it’s nearly twenty minutes of laughter and playing like children before you’re in his arms again. 

your arms are around his neck, chest pressed against his own while your head lays on his shoulder. 

“eddie?” you whisper, breaking the peaceful silence. he hums back, and you can see the way his neck flexes while producing the sound. “can i kiss you?” you ask, barely audible. 

“of course.” he slurs. in less than a second, your lips are molded to his. you don’t even think about what you’re doing as your fingers lace into his hair. the slight tug to his scalp has his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. you whine into his mouth at the contact of teeth to flesh. 

when you pull back, you’re both panting. you momentarily admire him before moving your lips to his neck and sucking softly. he moans, head falling back as his fingers dig into the skin of your waist. his sounds only spur you on as you nip at his pulse point. 

“jesus christ, princess.” he huffs. you kiss the small bruise you created lightly. 

“eddie, please.” you whimper, preening your whole body into him. his hand trails up slowly, pausing to look at you. 

“it’s okay?” he manages, fingers so close and yet too far from the skin of your breasts.

“please!” you cry out, and he doesn’t wait. he needs the flesh softly and you moan into the skin of his neck. 

he quickly slots his knee between your thighs and you squeal at the pressure it puts there. you move your hips softly. 

“oh god, eddie!” you whimper, biting at the skin of his jaw. he groans when your knee bumps his crotch. 

“shit, y/n!” he moans back. but suddenly his whole being freezes. his hands pull away from your chest and he stops bouncing his leg. “y/n…” his voice trails, as if he’s just realized who he’s actually with. “oh god y/n-” he breathes, hands coming up to cup your face. you’re staring back at him, confusion on your usually soft features. “no, no, no…” he gasps, a tear runs down his cheek as his thumbs stroke your own. 

“eddie? what’s wrong?” you ask desperately. more tears run down his face. 

“i’m so fucking sorry.” he cries. your mind is too foggy to understand why he’s apologizing. “i almost- oh god!” he sobs, wrapping you tightly in a hug. 

“why did we stop? was i bad?” you ask, anxiety starts creeping up your spine. 

“no honey.” he whispers in your ear. “it’s not like that at all.” his grip on you tightens, almost as if he’s trying to ground himself with his hold. “we just can’t do that.” 

“why?” you ask, almost innocently. you pull back to peer up at him. he’s crying heavily, face puffy and eyes red. 

“because you don’t want this, and it’s not right.” he states. 

“no, eddie i do want this! i swear!” you protest, tears of your own start to surface upon his rejection. 

“no. no, sweetheart you don’t. you’re drunk, and high. and if i let you do this then you’ll wake up in the morning and hate me.” he rambles. “you’ll resent me until we can’t even be friends anymore. i can’t take advantage of you like this!” he tries to reason, his own sobriety coming back to him faster and faster each second. 

“you don’t want me?” you cry, the tears finally breach your waterline and cascade down your face. he shakes his head. 

“it’s not like that-” he tries, but a loud cry cuts him off. for a moment, he can’t tell if the sound came from you or him. as your body goes limp in his hold, he realizes it’s you. “shit.” he huffs, lifting your body up to carry you. 

you continue to sob the whole way back to the van, his own tears dripping from his face and falling onto your back. when he lays you down in the back, you sob and reach for him again. he comes back with one of his shirts and a pair of boxers he kept for emergencies. once the shirt is covering your naked top, he reaches for your underwear. 

“i’m gonna change these, okay?” he manages to gasp out between his own sobs. he pulls the damp material away quickly, replacing it with his dry boxers, all while staring at the ceiling of the van. 

he looks back down at you to see that you’re still crying, body trembling as you lay limp on the floor. you notice his gaze and reach out for him, he leans over you and pushes the damp hair from your face. 

“i love you, eddie.” you choke out. he squeezes his eyes shut, resisting the urge to get sick. 

“i love you too, y/n.” he whispers back. once he pulls a light blanket over you, it doesn’t take you more than a few minutes to cry yourself to sleep. 

he’s still crying himself as he walks back to get your clothes. when he sees the fabric of your dress lying by the water, he can’t hold back anymore and finally throws up in the grass. 

“fucking god.” he chokes, pressing his hands agaisnt his aching chest. 

he has no idea how long he sits in the drivers’ seat, hugging his knees to his chest and crying. he even prays, he fucking prays, even though he doesn’t believe in god that you won’t remember any of it in the moring. he wishes that he could forget it too, but he knows he’s not that lucky. 

\\

it’s the last day of school, nearly a week after prom night when olivia finally musters up the courage to ask eddie what has been bothering him. 

he’d been pushing away from everyone. gone were the sarcastic quips and funny remarks, they’d been replaced with stony silence and panicked breathing anytime you got too close. to say that everyone was worried would be an understatement, well except donnie, who claimed there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him. 

the breaking point had been last night, when you’d suggested to eddie that you all have a big sleepover and go to school hungover today. and he’d told you no. 

no. a word that eddie close to never used with you. 

later, you’d called her crying. you’d been terrified than he was mad at you, and you had no idea what you could have even done wrong. 

the morning after prom he’d barely been able to look at you. after you’d hugged him goodbye and thanked him for a fun night; he’d driven until he physically couldn’t take it anymore and thrown up on the side of the road. he quickly lost count of how many times he did that within the next forty-eight hours. 

then, the most hellish school week of your life had started. your eyes had begun to look more sunken and face gaunt with the nightmare you’d had without him by your side. olivia was fucking tired of it. 

“what the fuck is your problem?” she snapped, plopping down in the seat in front of his. he glances up at her, then to the study hall teacher who’s nearly passed out. 

“what are you talking about?” there’s an edge of agitation in his voice, one that seemed to be becoming more and more familiar. he doesn’t even give her the courtesy of looking at her as he speaks, going back to doodling in his notebook. 

“you know damn-well what i’m talking about.” she rips the book from his reach. he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he sits back and pretends to be looking out the window. “what. happened. after. prom?” she growls, anger bubbling in her stomach. 

“nothing.” he whispers, rolling his eyes. her scoff makes him flinch. 

“then why are you acting like such a little bitch?” she bites, but when he glances back at her, she can see tears in his eyes. “eddie?” she tests, voice softening minutely. a shaky sigh leaves his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“do you have one of your makeup wipes?” he asks. her brows furrow. 

“why do you-” she trails, but he grabs her hand and begins to pull her from the classroom. 

when they finally reach the unused, dingey girls bathroom she can finally tell just how wrong something is. he’s trembling and blinking tears from his eyes. without hesitation, she hands him one of the small towelettes from her bag. as he runs it along his neck, she sees tiny, nearly faded bruises begin to appear. 

“so what? you got a girlfriend and didn’t want to tell us?” she assumes. he bites his lip and shakes his head. 

“y/n gave me these.” he chokes. she can feel her heart plummet from her chest to the pit of her stomach, and still manages to choke on the sensation. “we were both fucking drunk, and she-” his voice cracks as he rolls the wetness from his eyes. “and i almost fucking let her.” it doesn’t work, and tears begin to fall. he also can’t remember how many times he’s cried in the past six days. 

“but you didn’t, eddie even if you wanted to you didn’t and that’s-” she starts to ramble, but his shout cuts her off. 

“i don’t fucking want to!” his aggression makes her wince. “it’s not- we’re not-” he tries, and the words fail him. “it’s not like that.” he whimpers sadly, maybe because he’s starting to realize it’s not true. 

she can’t help it, it doesn’t matter how mad she was at him fifteen minutes ago; she wraps her arms tightly around him as he cries. 

“she doesn’t remember, if that helps.” she whispers, beginning to run her fingers through his hair. he nods, sniffing softly. “but right now… you’re scaring her eddie. she thinks she’s done something wrong- that you don’t want her anymore- that you’re embarrassed of her. which, let's face it, that’s ridiculous because i don’t think you’ve been embarrassed about anything since like the sixth grade.” 

so he’d agreed to go to the end of school party that night, albeit reluctantly. he’d been making an effort to talk to you, to touch you without feeling sick all night. he was so fucking greatful you didn’t ask what had been wrong; he didn’t think he could take that. by his third beer, things had started to feel easier, less forced. 

but all nerves, all reluctance, all anxiety goes away the moment tommy h thinks he has the right to fucking touch you. you’re dancing to some abba song with a thoroughly wasted carter when tommy comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. eddie is standing by donnie, watching you with a small smile while he holds olivias’ drink. he can see the way you gasp, attempting to pull away. he can also see that carter is too far gone to notice what’s happening. 

even years later, if someone had asked him what had come over him that night, he probably still wouldn’t be able to explain it. he slams the solo cup down and stomps his away toward you, just in time to hear you cry out from tommys’ tight grip. 

“tommy, stop!” you whimper, and it’s as if someone injected gasoline into his veins and dropped a match in his lungs. he rips you from tommys’ grip and into his own, he can feel more than hear the way you gasp as you make contact with his chest. the moment you realize it’s him though, you fingers fist his shirt and you snuggle closer. 

“aw, come on munson! there’s enough of her for both of us.” tommy chuckles. you squint your eyes shut and attempt to move impossibly closer to eddie. 

“if you ever fucking touch her again, i’ll knock your goddamn teeth out.” the growl in his voice surprises all three of you. he sounds scary. his tone makes tommys’ eyes get wide and you gasp again. 

it was that night that eddie realized things weren’t going to be easy anymore. you weren’t a little girl, and the threat of being the cheifs’ daughter didn’t scare people anymore. you were fifteen, and being around people like eddie made you susceptible to all kinds. he knew that realistically you weren’t helpless, that you could fight for yourself if you needed to, but you shouldn’t have to. you should never have to, and he’s going to make damn sure that you don’t. he promises himself that he’s never going to push you away, or leave you lonely again. 

there’s a lot of things for you to fear at the age of fifteen, but he swears he’ll never be one of them again. 

//

you’re lying against eddies chest watching ‘alien’ while he sips a beer, it’d kind of become your nightly routine in the past three weeks since school let out. you’d go out for the day, swimming, shopping, or even just driving around, then come home and eat dinner while watching whatever horror movie he’d rented. 

you’d barely been home, practically living at eddies’. neither wayne nor your dad seemed to mind. wayne was happy you got eddie out of the house, and hopper was happy you had someone to spend time with. wayne also liked that you made dinner some nights, home-cooked meals were not something he and eddie were used to, and he adored the way you attempted to teach eddie how to cook. 

the music is tense as the xenomorph watches bret from the rafters of the ship, and just as it’s about to pounce- the trailer door slams open. you and eddie both scream, grabbing each others hands. 

“what the fuck dude!” eddie yells at a teary eyed carter. 

“olivia broke up with me.” he sobs. you sit up, opening your arms for him and whispering a soft ‘oh honey’ that’s got eddies’ chest burning as carter cries into the crook of your neck. 

“i’m sorry man, what happened?” he asks, awkwardly rubbing his shoulder. 

“i don’t even know!” he cries, grip on your (eddies) shirt tight. “she said she has feelings for someone else of some shit!” 

it takes nearly two hours to convince carter to go to bed, but the moment you’re sure he’s out, you’re flying down the hall and toward the phone. eddie watches from behind you, lips pulled into an angry line as you dial the number of olivias’ house. 

“hello?” the tone of her voice has you glancing over at the clock, two in the morning?

“okay, what the actual hell?” you growl. eddies’ brows rise in shock at the tone of your voice. the line is silent for a long moment, only furthering your anger. “i mean you guys were fine like what? two days ago?” 

“yeah, i mean it’s crazy what you and eddie miss when you guys just disappear.” she snaps back. you’re livid by now, squeezing the phone so hard your knuckles turn white. eddies’ fingers softly run over your own, pulling the phone from your hand. his back is against your chest, and you’re leaning up so you can still hear her words. “look, i just wanted to tell him and get it over with. it’s better than lying to him and telling him i still love him!” she defends quickly. 

“i mean, i guess.” eddie shrugs. “it’s gonna make going to college together pretty awkward though.” she huffs. 

“i told him i still wanted to be friends.” she whispers, “it’s not like i want him out of my life completely, i just have feelings for someone else now.” you scoff, walking over and throwing yourself on the couch. they talk for a few more minutes before eddie places the phone back in its place, leaning his forehead against the wall. 

“what else did she say?” you ask, taking in his tired demeanor. 

“doesn’t matter.” he hums, but he’s tense as he sits down beside you. 

“god, we leave them alone for forty-eight hours and they fall apart.” you laugh, throwing your head back in exasperation. he chuckles along, hand squeezing your knee. 

“i think summer just got a lot less fun.” he says sadly. 

\\

“c’mon doll, it’s four days. i think you’ll live without me for four days.” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood; it doesn’t work. 

“maybe if i had someone else to talk to! carter and donnie are camping all week, eds!” you whine. you’re laid out on his bed while he finishes packing his bag, continuing your week long whining since he told you he was leaving. 

every summer, eddie and wayne went on a trip upstate to stay with one of waynes’ friend to see an annual car show. you’d been dreading it since he told you about it. four days when he would be miles away, having fun with one of his childhood friends while you stayed here, in shitty little hawkins. you’re dread had only increased when you found out donnie and carter were going to be gone all week on a camping trip. 

eddie was the only one who had spoken to olivia since her and carter broke up. he huffs, flopping down in the bed beside you and putting a tape on your chest. 

“what’s this?” you ask softly, seeing the words ‘your mix’ in eddies’ messy handwriting. 

“mixtape.” he states, speech muffled by his face being pressed into the bed. “for when you miss me.” he furthers, finally looking up at you. you swear your heart fucking melts at his words. you coo happily, wrapping your arms around him to hide your inevitable blush. 

but the longer you sit, the more your chest tugs, because he’s going to be gone. for four whole days. 

the longest amount of time you’ve spent apart since you met him. 

“i’m gonna miss you so much.” you whimper, before you can think better of it. 

“aww, baby.” he laughs, sitting up to look at you. baby. the word rings in your ears. he squeezes your cheeks together, contorting your pout. “here.” he whispers, beginning to tug his ring off his finger. he slots it onto your own and you let out a small gasp. 

“eddie i can’t take this! it’s your-” 

“my moms.” he finishes and you nod, looking up at him in confusion. “and it’s the only things of hers that i have, so i need you to take care of it for me while i’m gone. it’ll give you something to do.” 

“eds, i can’t” you try to argue, but he doesn’t let you. 

and that’s how you end up standing on your doorstep, playing softly with the ring on your finger as eddies’ van drives down the road, wayne dozing off in the passenger seat. after hopper had left for work, you’d laid in your bed for hours reading ‘the shining’ and constantly replaying the tape eddie had given you. 

it’s nearly three in the morning when the phone finally rings. you drop the cold potato wedges you were about to shove in your mouth and practically run to it, hoppers tired laugh sounding behind you. 

“hello?” you ask hopefully into the receiver. 

“hey loverboy! your girl picked up!” an unknown voice shouts. your heart beats faster. your girl? “he’s on his way, i’ve heard so much about you by the way. he literally will not shut the fuc-”

“give me that!” you hear eddie yell, followed by shuffling and laughing. “hi y/n.” he sighs happily into the phone. your grin, a small giggle leaving your lips.

“hi… loverboy.” you hum mockingly. he groans. “what’s all that about?” you ask slyly, trying to ignore the way the flutter in your chest makes your lungs tighten. 

“wayne told everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” he huffs, the air of annoyance in his voice makes your face drop a little. “i’ve been teased non-stop ever since.” 

“aw, i’m sorry.” you giggle. 

“no you’re not, shithead. you’re enjoying my pain.” 

“only a little.” you muse back. you hear a laugh somewhere on the other end of the phone. 

“i’m going to bed kiddo, don’t stay on the phone too late.” hopper informs, pressing a kiss to the back of your head and patting your shoulder. 

“night, hop!” eddie shouts, causing hopper to chuckle. 

“goodnight, munson!” he shouts back before padding down the hall. 

“so how was your day, sweet girl?” eddie asks, and you hear another snicker followed by a loud ‘ow!’.  

“pretty good.” you state, sitting on the floor with your back to the wall. “almost done with my book, and i listened to the tape.” 

“what? miss me already?” he asks teasingly. you roll your eyes. 

“always.” you whisper. 

it’s nearly three the next afternoon when you finally decide to get out of the house and stop feeling bad for yourself. it was actually pretty nice, skating down the road with the summer breeze against your face. your headphones are on your ears, blaring ‘edge of seventeen’ to block out all thought, because they all seem to be about eddie. or, the lack thereof, the constant reminder that he’s hours away. 

you’re pulling snacks off the shelf at the convenience store as the song changes to ‘jessies’ girl’ making you hum happily. but the happiness quickly turns to anxiety when you round the corner and see olivia arguing with the guy behind the counter. 

“c’mon dude! it’s three damn dollars” she exclaims, throwing her arms up as you pull the headphones from your ears. you pull the cash from your pocket, are you really going to do this? you haven’t talked to her in like a month. you shake your head, pulling three dollars out and slamming them on the counter. her eyes get wide, face softening when she sees you.

“y/n, honey, you don’t have to.” she protests. 

“ring her up.” you snap, glaring at the worker. 

“wait, no-” she gasps, but the register is already dinging and you smirk. 

“don’t sweat it, you can just drive me home.” you smile, laying your snacks on the counter. she rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. 

“you’re a brat.” she beams, ruffling your hair. 

surprisingly enough, it’s not awkward as you sit in the passenger seat of her car, singing your heart out to ‘bad reputation’. 

“god, you hang out with eddie too much.” she laughs, turning the music slightly. you scowl, but continue singing anyway. “you wanna come stay at my place tonight?” she asks shyly. “it’s just- i know he’s out of town and i don’t know, it could be fun. but you totally don’t have to-” she starts to ramble. is she nervous right now? 

“yeah, sure.” you agree and she nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. olivia is never nervous. 

you’re in your room shoving clothes in a bag when you hear her coo softly. you turn and see her looking at the assortment of things tacked to your walls. 

“aw, this is so cute!” she chuckles, running her fingers over a polaroid of you lying in eddies’ lap and flipping off the camera, or more so carter who was behind it. 

it feels good to be out, somewhere that’s not your house, eddies’, or bennys’ with your dad. she’s got a nearly empty wine bottle in her lap, giggling like an idiot. 

“okay, so let’s talk business.” she laughs, passing it to you. you tilt your head at her in confusion, cigarette dangling from your lips. “you and eddie-” she says slyly, biting her lip. 

“oh god!” you groan, falling back into her pillows as ‘the chain’ filters though her room. you get lost in the voice of stevie nicks and begin to shake your head. “there’s nothing to talk about.” you lie. 

“oh whatever y/n! you’re totally in love with him!” she shouts. you shut your eyes and huff out a cloud of smoke. 

“utterly.” you whisper. her jaw drops, a small gasp leaving her lips. you sit up on your elbows to look at her, and a grin breaks onto her face.

“holy shit!” she screams. “holy shit, oh my god!” she begins to bounce in her seat. “you have to tell him y/n!” you feel tears begin to well in your eyes. 

“just because i am doesn’t mean he is.” you whisper again, voice cracking at the mere thought. a pitiful frown pulls her cheeks down suddenly. 

“oh, sweetheart.” she reaches out to hug you. “he definitely is.” you scoff. “i can see it in the way he looks at you. you’re the only one who's allowed to touch the radio, that he shares food with, that gets to touch his guitar- i mean you have matching stick-and-pokes of gods’ sake!” 

“in not that simple!” you whine, “it’s just not like that with us.” a tear runs down your face. 

“wait-” she grabs you hand and begins to examine it. “is that?” her jaw falls slack again. 

“his moms’ ring.” you nod; she laughs in disbelief. 

“jesus christ, you’re practically married.” she beams, but you only shrug. 

hours later, you’re asleep in the floor while she talks on the phone.

“babe-” she interrupts eddie, glancing back at you. “i’m starting to feel bad.” she whispers. 

“why?” eddie asks softly. 

“we’re going to break this girls poor fucking heart if she finds out-” she looks sadly at the ring on your finger. 

“no one is going to find out. what are you even talking about? why would y/n care?” he asks and she clamps her eyes shut. 

“i just think she’ll be upset that we didn’t tell her.” she lies straight through her teeth, guilt swarming in her chest. 

\\

a pounding at your front door wakes you, causing you to groan. you fumble your way to the door, cursing pissily as you throw it open. all your anger diminishes when you see eddie rocking back and forth, hands behind his back. 

“eddie!” you scream, throwing your body toward his own. his arms don’t wrap around you, and you pull back, confused. 

“i have a surprise for you.” he smirks, hands still hidden from view. “well, a few. but the most important one comes first.” 

“the anticipation is killing me.” you say dramtically, but you’re not able to force the stupid grin off your face. 

he pulls his hands out to reveal what must be the tiniest kitten you’ve ever seen. you gasp, hands immediately reaching for it. he lays it gently into them, and your heart nearly shatters at the tiny cry it lets out. 

“oh my god.” you gasp again, “eddie it’s so tiny!” he laughs, finally wrapping his arms around you as you cradle the small animal to your chest. 

“promise not to love her more than me.” he laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. you melt into his touch, releasing a soft sigh. god, these past four days have been the longest of my fucking life. the kitten croaks from between you. 

“i’ll try.” you laugh, holding her up to look at her. her all black fur is fluffed out, tiny tuffs sticking up from her ears. 

“she has to be bottle fed, but i got the stuff for that on the way here.” he informs as you begin to tug him into the trailer. “just found her. on the fire escape of all places.” he laughs, flopping down onto your bed. 

“aw, poor baby.” you hum, laying her down on his stomach as you crawl in bed beside him. you sit in content silence, both of you petting the small creature.

“i missed you.” he whispers, pulling you from your daze. he looks so fucking tired. you lean forward, moving some hair from his forehead. 

“i missed you too.” you admit, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. his eyes flutter shut and he sighs, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“it’s good to be home.” he mumbles, thumb stroking your cheek bone. the kitten emits a small cry from the spot she crawled to on his chest, causing you both to giggle. “what are you gonna name her?” 

“how about ororo?” you ask, looking into her small cloudy gray eyes. 

“like munroe? like storm?” he laughs when you nod. “oh my god you have been reading them!” he beams, sitting up and nearly dropping ororo. 

“yeah, you were right. they’re pretty cool.” you hum, rolling your eyes as he shakes your shoulders in excitement. 

“now we have to go as rogue and gambit! and we can bring ororo!” he laughs, picking her up to talk to her. 

he doesn’t leave your house for the next two days, not that you mind. he’d slept a lot the first day, much to your insistence when he’d told you he’d drove all through the night and came over as soon as he’d gotten home. he’d helped you feed ororo, napped, told you about his trip, napped again, and then given you your other surprises: a fleetwood mac record, a coffee mug with wildflowers printed on it, and a sketchbook. you’re lying on the couch with him, watching some show your dad had told him about when the phone rings. 

“hey, you wanna hang out with me, donnie, and olivia tonight?” you hear carters’ voice through the line. since when were they talking again? you look back at eddie, who’s carrying on a one-sided conversation with ororo. 

“i don’t know if i can get eds off the couch for that long.” you laugh, causing his head to snap up and scowl at you. 

“stop hoarding him!” you hear donnie shout over the line. 

so that’s how you end up walking up to carters’ front door, eddies’ arms slung over your shoulder as you carry a mewing ororo in your arms. 

“she’s too little to leave by herself.” eddie had insisted, shoving the small bottle into his bag. 

“oh my god!” olivia yells, running off the porch to meet you when she sees the feline clutched to your chest. 

all of you are sat in a circle, passing around a joint while eddie attempts to feed ororo. olivia and carter are surprisingly civil with one another. 

“she doing okay?” you ask eddie, reaching over to pet the top of her head. he only nods, clearly concentrating, tongue poking out slightly. 

“aw, it’s like you two have a baby now.” olivia giggles. you blush slightly when carter hums in agreement. donnie only rolls his eyes and glances around the room. 

“closest thing i’ll ever have to one.” eddie states, pulling the empty bottle from her mouth and setting it on the floor. 

“you don’t want babies?” olivia gasps, hands flying to her chest dramatically. eddie shakes his head, mumbling a quick ‘nope’ while handing the sleepy kitten to you. “what if your wife wants them?” she asks, causing him to laugh.

“not getting married either.” he shrugs, taking a hit. olivia looks horrified. “i don’t need a certificate to tell me how much i love someone.” 

“that’s sweet.” you hum.

“that’s stupid.” olivia snaps at the same time. 

“anyway-” carter interrupts, not wanting it to turn into a debate. “are we going to kats’ end of the summer party?” 

“obviously.” donnie chirps. eddie groans and throws his head back. 

“do we have to?” he whines, looking over at you. 

“yes, you do.” olivia intejects before you can answer. “it’s the last high school party carter and i will have before we leave for college.” 

a somber mood takes over, like it’s suddenly dawning on everyone that in a few weeks they won't be here anymore. 

“that’s fucking depressing.” donnie states. 

// 

“holy fuck! you look so hot!” olivia screams. you’re in a tight black slip dress with a mesh red t-shirt underneath, all of which formerly belonged to her. she’d given you practically her whole wardrobe while packing up her childhood bedroom. an experience which had been full of tears, even eddie had almost cried while pulling photos from her wall. 

eddie’s in a tight red tee and black jeans to match you, and the thought makes your stomach flutter. 

“do you have it?” she whispers in your ear, carefully not to let the three boys in front of you hear. you nod, pulling the flooded up piece of paper from the pocket of your black jean jacket. she beams, “he’s gonna tell you he loves you too. and then i’ll have completed my goal of getting you two together and can leave happily.” you simply roll your eyes, too nervous to think about it any longer. 

it’s been two and a half hours since then and you’re well buzzed. your cup sloshes sound as you search for eddie in the sea of people. you can’t find him anywhere, and you’re starting to feel claustrophobic. 

“found him.” donnie says, coming up to you and grabbing your wrist. he leads you up the stairs and into a small bedroom. you glance around, noticing it’s empty. 

“he’s not in here-” you whimper, but when you turn around donnie is shutting the door. “what are you-” you start, but you’re interrupted by him smashing his lips onto yours. you gasp, shoving him back by his shoulders. “what the fuck was that?” you shout. 

“finally gonna have you all to myself while he’s off screwing that whore.” he growls, shoving you back onto the bed. you attempt to stand up, but he pushes down hard on your chest causing you to cough. he begins to climb over you and you panic. 

“no stop!” you all but scream, but he just laughs. you feel sick, mind fuzzy and moving too fast to comprehend. 

“what’s this?” he asks coyly, picking up the paper that’s fallen from your pocket. 

“wait!” you try to reach for it; he smacks your hand away and begins to read it. 

“oh my god-” he laughs, looking up at your terrified expression. “so you’ll fuck eddie but you won’t fuck me?” he asks annoyedly. 

“it’s not like th-” you attempt to speak, but he grabs your neck and holds you down. your brain runs on auto as you reach up and claw at his face. even though you draw blood, it doesn’t seem to phase him. “no!” you shriek as he reaches for your tights. 

“what the fuck is going on in here?” carter yells, throwing open the door. donnies hand comes off your throat and you begin to gasp for breath. 

“help me.” you cry out. carters’ face turns from one of confusion to complete rage. 

“get the fuck off of her!” he yells, running to help you off the bed. he stands you up on trembling legs, and you notice for the first time that you’re sobbing. “are you okay?” he asks softly, turning your face to look at him. all you can do is fall into him, letting the sobs fall freely. 

“fuck you, you’re gonna get what you fuckign deserve when eddie finds out.” carter screams at him.

“he’s too busy for that.” donnie laughs angrily as carter helps you walk out. 

even with him leading you, the walk outside feels like miles. when eddies’ van is in sight, you finally feel like you can breathe again. you don’t hesitate, immediately dropping carters hand and running to it. 

“oh eddie-” you cry, pulling open the back door. but you feel your heart stop as it opens. 

olivia is sucking on eddies neck, hands down the front of his jeans. when he sees you, his jaw drops. you can feel bile starting to rise in your throat. 

“fucking seriously, dude?” carter shouts, something broken in his voice. olivia throws herself off eddies’ lap. 

“why are you crying, babydoll?” eddie asks, and the name makes you finally throw up in the grass. 

the next few minutes happen in a blur, olivia holds your hair back as carters’ fist lands on eddies’ cheek. the harsh sound only makes you throw up again. you hardly notice them fighting over the sound of your own head throbbing. 

“shit, eddie stop! he’s had enough!” olivia screams, running up to them. you look up to see a few people are starting to come over. donnies grabs eddie and pulls him off carters’ limp frame on the grass. 

“i think you’re gonna want to see this.” he laughs, handing eddie something. you don’t realize it’s your note to eddie until he’s looking up at you, confusion and sadness on his face. fuck. 

“tell him how you got it.” carter croaks, coughing up blood as he tries to stand. eddies eyes trail to donnie, a stream of blood running from under his eye. donnie starts to back away from him. 

“how’d you fucking get this from her?” he growls, but donnie doesn’t answer. all eyes are on you, but you can’t bring yourself to answer. 

“he tried to fuck her.” carter snaps crudely, his words make you gag again. 

“oh baby-” eddie whispers. 

“he what?” a deep voice shouts. and there he is. chief jim hopper stands, full uniform. your whole body relaxes. 

“dad-” you whimper softly. 

“get you asses in these fucking cruisers now.” he yells, officers powell and callahan guide donnie, carter, and oliva toward their cars. 

“can you stand honey?” eddie asks, hands on your shoulders. you almost reach out for him to take you into his arms, but you spot the bruises on his neck. you don’t even think about it as you reach up and slap him hard across the face. hopper jerks you back quickly.

“get in the car.” hopper instructs. eddies’ lips tremble, tears filling his eyes as he begins to walk to the bronco. 

the car ride is silent, occasionally broken by a soft cry from you or eddie. you feel numb, nothing but a deep ache in your chest. how could it all go wrong so quickly? the car comes to a stop before the station. 

“can you do this?” hopper asks, hand resting on your knee. you exhale shakily. 

“no one’s gonna blame you if you can’t, y/n.” eddie whispers, reaching up to touch your shoulder. you nod, leaning into his touch. 

“i can do it.” you whisper softly. 

your sitting in the lobby, olivia in front of you. eddie’s cuffed to the other desk, holding an ice pack against his face, carter mirroring his actions on the opposite side. no one speaks as your dad come up to kneel beside you. 

“he admitted it.” he tells you, hand coming up to stroke your arm. “do you want to press charges for attempted rape?” he asks sadly, voice cracking. 

“oh god.” olivia cries, hiding her face in her hands. you can’t force your eyes away from the wood in front of you, much less speak. 

“y/n?” eddie asks. officer callahan shushes him. you look up and see tears in his eyes, and reality comes crashing down on you. hopper pulls you into his arms as you begin to sob again. 

“yeah, yeah i do.” you choke out. eddie squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head as tears roll down his cheeks again. 

as flo takes pictures of your bruising, olivia and carters are questioned. then finally eddie. you sit in the lobby, lonely even though flow is at her desk typing and officer callahan and powell sit with carter and olivia outside. 

“he needs to talk to you.” hopper whispers, sitting in the seat on the other side of the table. 

on trembling legs, you make your way to your dads office. eddie is cuffed to the chair, not looking at you. 

“eddie-” you whisper softly. 

“we’re done.” he states simply. your chest tightens. “after tonight, after you walk out that door… your not gonna talk to me anymore. we’re not going to hang out. not going to be friends. it’s done.” he finally looks at you, face bloody, eyes red. 

“please don’t say that.” you beg. he shakes his head. “eddie, i love you.” you whimper, but you can’t cry. it hurts too much to even cry. 

“i promised your dad that i wouldn’t hurt you anymore, and that means leaving.” 

“you can only hurt me by leaving. you’re the best thing i’ve ever had, eddie please don’t leave me.” you beg desperately. “eddie, i’m so in love with you.”

“i’m not.” he states, without missing a beat. 

there it is. 

the words you never wanted to hear. 

they make you feel like the world is falling from beneath your feet. 

“no-” you whisper. 

“i’m sorry.” he says back. “but i can’t do this to you. you and me just don’t work that way, and i can’t keep stringing you along like this.”

“eddie-” 

“i love you, but not the way you want. y/n, i really do. i need you to know that, but this has to end.” 

and with that, you storm out of the room, out of the station. you slam your fist into the pillar by the sentence. it splits your knuckles, but you don’t even feel it. you can’t feel anything but the deep emptiness in your chest. 

hopper exits the station, guiding you back to the car. he buckles your seat belt for you, because once you sit, you suddenly can’t move. all of your limbs feel too heavy. so heavy that you feel like you could just sink into the earth and never stop. 

and the scariest part- you can’t think. can’t make a single thought enter your mind.  

the dark woods surround the road, the car. you stare at them, wishing you could disappear into them and never come back out again. the radio plays softly, but you don’t even notice it. 

“i know what it’s like-” hopper finally says. you look over at him. “i know what it’s like to fall in love with someone… just for it all to be ripped away from you.” you blink at him, dumbfoundely. 

“i always thought i was cursed, and i guess i passed it on to you. i know that it feels like you’re dying, like you’re all alone, like your whole world is falling apart. but you’re not alone. you have to remember that, because i also know that you may not be my biological daughter but you’re so damn much like me, and i need you to not do something stupid about those feelings like i did.” 

“i love him so much.” you cry. 

“i know, i know baby. he wanted me to give you this.” he holds that stupid fucking paper out to you. you open it, and begin to read the word you wrote only a few days ago. words that you wrote with so much love, hope, happiness, lightness. 

hey eds, i know this is stupid. but i’m writing all the things i’m too scared to tell you, which is stupid because i know once you read this you’ll tell me i have no reason to ever be scared of you. anyway, here it goes:

i was so lost before i found you. i had no idea who i wanted to be, what i wanted to do with my life. then you walked into it, and now it’s like the ideas had been there the whole time. i can’t wait to see what adventures we make together eddie. you made me feel like a real person. i’ve learned so much about myself in the past year. 

but the most important thing i’ve learned is that it takes me approximately four days to fall in love, and about four months to realize it. 

i couldn’t see myself spending every day of the rest of my life with anyone, until i met you. i love you eds’, so fucking much. 

-your favorite shithead, y/n. 

the words bounce around in your skull, enough tears running down your face to fill an ocean. you hold the paper up to the open window, and let the wind rip it from your fingers. 

your eyes settle back in front of you, staring out at the dark road as the curse of loneliness that seems to consume hawkins sucks you in too. so you reach to turn up the radio- 

“feelin’ that it's gone, could change your mind. if we can’t go on, to survive the tide, love divides. someday, love will find you. break those chains that bind you. one night will remind you, how we touched and went our separate ways. if he ever hurts you, true love won’t desert you. you know i still love you, though we touched and went our separate ways-”

tags: @kik51199​  @lynnsthoughts​ @multifandom-loser​ @naughty-koala07​ @httpsunflowers​ @munson-burner​ @shinydixon​ @aereth​ @yoyoanaria​ @madhatterweasley​ 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #stanger things fanfic #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #my fic #love divides #the start (1982-1983) #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fics

[dayslynthesix]

hello to you there! im soooo happy about today's victory that i dont even know how to put that happiness in words, but I'll try

Devils roll the dice | Charles Leclerc imagine | part 3

this is part 3 of welcome to the team, you can read part 2 here

sunday, july 10th, red bull ring, austria :

"hey charles, i just want to tell you that's a p1, you did it, p1, charles, p1" y/n said on the radio, the smile bigger than she could imagined, the ferrari garage was celebrating charles victory

"oh my god, y/n, we did it, i was so scared, oh my god", charles were audibly happy

72 hours before:

y/n went bananas with the austrian gp, it was red bulls home, they people would be all around it, all the pressure, the comments, the stress... it would be all about ten times worse than anywhere on the calendar. after great britain things got weird, to say the least, between charles and mattia, specially after the cameras take that photo of mattia with his italian way of pointing fingers to someone after the race, the garages went shut, we weren't communicating nearly close to enough as we should, and that was reflecting on everyone; charles went back to monaco as soon as he could, and his way to show that he was upset was leaving his lovely pista spider behind, mattia saw that as his red flag to went to his driver and fix things, y/n had absolutely no idea how things went, but considering that charles was here and apparently in a good mood was a great start, or she thinks so.

when she retweeted something saying that charles needed to get into his reputation era (on her private twitter account that she forgot he follow her on his private account) she wasn't expecting him to actually do it. during the sprint race when she asked him if she needed information about the currently position and he answered back with a solid "no, i don't care, but thank you" she went into a deep mood state called "im ready to commit a crime". and listen to me, charles wasn't a rude person, he was actually a really polite one, he almost never give the team bad answers and was very polite with everyone, and y/n had absolutely nothing to do with all the shit they pulled with him before she arrived, so when he left his car post qualy, she went straight after him - and everyone heard her cursing in portuguese and they knew better than sticking their noses around to listen the really soft conversation they would have.

he entered the room and when the door was millimeters to close y/n entered too, and the sound the door made was heard back into mclarens garage.

"what..." charles started saying but the look into y/n face was so angry he shut himself

"i don't care, but thank you" she signaled with quotations marks in the air "that all you gonna give to me? you know i don't have anything with the bullshit the team is putting on you, on the other hand, im here to make your life easier, to help you to win the fucking championship, do you know that, right?"

"yes, i know, and it was not what i meant..."

"is was not what you meant? do you want to get angry? fine, do it, with mattia, with the awful pit team, with the strategy team, not with me, because if the whole championship depended on me you could bet you would be leading it, but guess what, it DOES NOT" you emphasized the last two words

"y/n, im sorry, i wasn't directed towards you" he was visible concerned about fucking things up with you

"i was the one on the radio with you, and if you don't like that you can ask for a switch" y/n said and leave the room, she was about to cry, but she didn't, she went for a walk instead, walking through pierre gasly, who not ironically was doing the exactly the same thing

"your best friend is an asshole" she said as she got close to him

"yeah, i agree on this one" he said and she remembered the little incident on free practice when they nearly touched each other

"i would make a toast, but i don't have any drinks, by the way, im sorry on how the season is going, the car is worse than the 1997 fiat uno i used to drive back in school"

"woah, i never thought about the car being this bad, but i think you're not wrong. what charles did that let you this red? or you're just matching the outfit?" you let a laugh out

"im being passive aggressive because i hate when people talk rude with me, but until tomorrow we're back to normal, anyway, it was nice to see you gasly, good luck tomorrow"

"you too, y/n. you too" he walked away from you, going back to the alpha tauri garage as you grabbed your phone to find something to do while you waited to go back. you opened you stories about last week when you and charles went back to your hotel room and drink half of the tequila bottle while playing monopoly and watching funny videos on tiktok, he opened up with you about the season so far and you understand why he was so mad, but it didn't give him the right to direct that angry to you, and hit a nerve all the attitude, and the lack of it from mattia, you've saw the fight the drivers where pulling with each other and if that keeps going they wouldn't win anything, but you're just a mere mortal, if the big boss didn't know what he was doing you wouldn't be the one to teach him.

you want straight to the cars, never stopping by to see the boys, you need a couple of moments just with the engines and the tools, three weeks were starting to get you, it wasn't easy to travel around and all the pressure that was indirectly hitting you, so you focus all your attention on delivering the car the best you could.

sunday, formation lap

after all, charles didn't ask the team to switch the person who would be on the radio with him the whole race, and despite the fact that you were less smiley you were 100% focused on your job. carlos passed by to say hello to you and went to his car, charles did close to the same thing, the only difference was that he didn't actually said anything, he just hold your shoulder a little bit longer and tighter than the usual. both of the drivers were in their respective cars, the mechanics take away the tires covers and went back to the pit wall. the grid formation was ready, we have max in p1, charles p2 and carlos p3. after the little miscommunication during the qualy, when the lights went off, charles didn't try to overtake max, he held his position, defending the p2 from anyone who tried to steal it away.

y/n had passed pretty much the whole night studying the car and analyzing the reliability on the straights, and her job was successful. despite t

the fact that the race was pretty much a easier way to red bull win because of the amount of straight lines, her job with the balance and aerodynamics of the car were impeccable, y/n alongside with the team put a rocket on track. and when she was leaving the garage last night, she went to both pitstop mechanics and give them a lecture about no fucking things up on race switching and the pitstop (obviously she did it in the most polite way as possible) and she did the same thing with the strategy people, she was working side by side with carlos strategist, and was only because of that that they managed all the pitstops so incredible well.

it was during lap 11 when charles overtaked max the first time, the whole crew went euphoric, so far so good, the car was nice, charles was driving in the highest category. the first pitstop allowed max to recover the p1 one again, but on lap 33, in front the orange army, charles put all again and went p1 again. and another tires switch to the car hold the rest of the race, and again, one last time, on lap 53 charles do it again, the crew went loud, it was only 18 laps to go, just 18 left and we would have two ferrris on the podium. but the thing with ferrari is: your almost never fully happy, carlos car stopped, power unit problem, just whenyou thoughtyou had that fixed, it was a hit in your confidence and the team, the car was on fire and he was still inside of it, the panic started growing inside of y/n chest, only when she saw carlos on the motorcycle going back to the pit she could breathe easily

"is everything ok with carlos?" charles asked on the radio

"positive, he's out of the car and fine. 13 laps to go"

missing 6 laps charles opened the radio again: "there's something wrong with the throttle"

"ok, let me check, hold on" y/n went to all the data and apparently everything was ok, she went back on the radio "charles, something must be holding the throttle, but its not mechanical or electrical, can you keep pushing? 5 more laps to go"

"yeah, I'll try it" and a couple more minutes again "there's something really wrong with the throttle y/n"

"ok, we're checking, keep it cool, i know the car is loosing grip, but 3 more laps, ok?"

"ok"

"stay with me, 2 more laps" y/n kept the updates constantly, she needed to make sure that charles weren't panicking "ok, one more lap to go, hold it"

"im holding it"

"curve 7 now... and 8... getting into the curve 9, one more, charles, just one"

charles passed through the white and black flag, the winning flag

"hey charles, i just want to tell you that's a p1, you did it, p1, charles, p1" you said on the radio

"oh my god, y/n, we did it, oh my god. yesssss, lets gooo", charles were audibly happy.

the whole garage was euphoric, you could see the smiles of relief, the weight leaving everyone's shoulders, after 5 shitty race weekends, charles won. the team went to wait for him close to where he would park his car, and the first thing he did one he left the car was running to the team, the mechanics, the staff, you... he held everyone inside a relief hug that all the sadness and angry left your system, nothing that happened before that moment mattered anymore, not when he was so happy, so in piece with himself.

the team watched the podium and anna came to see you, after all, lewis was there too, and after such stressful moments with the car, he was finally into the pace race.

"you know i know the way you're looking to him" anna wasn't subtle at all

"im looking at him with admiration and that's all"

"sure, y/n, absolutely, i truly believe in you because it not like i know you from 6 years and haven't see you fall for someone"

"annes, its not like were going to be together or something, im here to make the car better and help the team to make him world champion, its not a taylor swift song or a movie about romance"

"damn girl, you've been thinking about it because ot was a really long answer, but whatever you said, if you need me to kick him, I'll do it" she held you by your side and both of you stood there. charles looked so happy, he could barely hold his smile, his was born to be on the highest spot and just like that you realized that you would 100% do everything in your powers to help him - and if means that you have to blow away the red bulls tires, you would.

oh shit, you were really falling for him.

after the ceremony a couple of people went out to celebrate with charles, the mechanics, pierre, and even carlos was there, so when you arrived it wasn't much of a big news, because at the end of the day you were part of the team and you were happy for him. you stopped by some group of mechanics, talked to them for a bit and went to say hi to everyone, you didn't see charles, well, you did, but he was busy drinking shots with pierre so you stayed where you were and kept talking with people, because at the end of the day you were really good at talk to people and that part of you were pushed away bacuse you were too concentrated and focused on your work and worried about not screw over that you locked up that part, and now that every single person in that room were happy you could go back to the version of yourself who is playful and a light of sunshine.

you walk to the boys, taking a look at the empty cups and the happy smiles.

"this is really a celebration, isn't it?"

"there's room to celebrate and im so happy" charles said and he hugged you, an actual hug, and he was wearing some amazing parfum "im glad you came"

"that's a sentence that could be during sex or at a party" gasly gasped after the awful joke he made it

"unfortunately i don't think you can use it referring to the first one" you answered back and carlos and charles high fived each other "im glad im here too, now who's gonna be the one to offer me a drink? a girl need a tequila shot to start the night"

"I'll go, if tequila is what you want, tequila is what you got" carlos tapped the table and point at you, leaving the trio and as soon as he stopped to talk to someone you knew your drink would only arrive an hour later, carlos was what you like to call the congressman from the grid

"that drink is gonna take some time" you said

"you can drink mine, driving fast cars for a living is adrenalin enough" charles said and pushed his cup to you

"thank you, and congratulations again" you drink the content from the cup and took a bite from the lemon slice, charles came closer to you to say:

"im sorry about yesterday, i was angry and annoyed with the team, not with you, im never angry with you and the way i spoke to you was really rude, so im sorry" he said lower than you expected

"that's ok, i got it, seriously, no need to stress over that, and im sorry too, i lost it and i shouldn't have said those things to you either" both of you were so close that you could actually feel his smile when he said "so we're even"

he was flirting with you or it was just the tequila?

pierre made an annoying sound so both of you could pay attention on him, it got your nerves that dude being an aquarius not a leo person, but who were you to say anything?

"lets play truth or dare or two truths and one lie, who got it wrong drink, the champ choose"

"we are back in high school all over again?" you asked after calling a barman and ordering a couple of rounds to the improvised table the three of you were standing

"depends, who were you in high school?" that question was definitely a flirt coming from pierre

"the girl who you would stay away, thats for sure"

"and why is that?" charles asked after drinking another shot

"high school in brazil is pretty different from the us or europe, those were the worst three years of my life, and i was too smart to fall for someone with ocean blue eyes and a cute accent" you clarified

"that's the second time you mention the french accent, do you have a thing for french people?" either charles wanted to ask this or he was starting to get drunk, you gasped when you realized that he was closer than seconds before "truth or dare, y/n?"

"truth" you always pick truth

"is it true that you can steal away anna's recipe for us to have the amount of success that mercedes have?" you and pierre laughed for that one

"i can't, and i wouldn't because im here to do better than her, pierre truth or dare?"

"dare" obviously

"i dare you to tell us why your relationships doesn't work longer than three months or you found someone to kiss in this club" he looked at you, drink a shot and walked away

"he's gonna make you pay for that"

"im ok with that, truth or dare, charles?"

"truth"

"don't you have a girlfriend?" you were dying to know that

"i used to, past tense, but it's over, truth or dare, cherie?" the accent, you knew you would be in serious trouble if the accent keep happening

"dare" you could tell he wasn't expecting that when his eyes locked with yours longer than the usual

"i don't have a dare for that, but considering pierre is back im gonna call for help" you started saying that was unfair but what was the worst thing that could happen? "pierre, give her a dare"

if the devil had a look it would be the one you were receiving that moment

"i dare you to kiss the girl i just kissed"

"what if i don't like girls?" you raised one eyebrow to him

"then I think you gonna have to kiss charles over here" he grabbed his best friend shoulders, charles look straight to you, those green eyes staring deep into yours, what was that heat you were feeling? ok, that's how he wanted to play the game, thats the way it would be.

carlos choose that moment to came with your drinks, you take the first one and drink all of the cup, when was the last time you kissed a girl? you couldn't remember, but you asked anyway "who's is she?" all three of them looked at you at the same time, pierre barely recovered when he pointed to the blond girl a few meters away and you walked in her direction. you tapped her shoulder and got closer to explain to her what was going on and her hand, not ironically, went to rest on your waist, she gave you a not innocent at all smile and leaned closer to you.

you came back to the table only to found pierre holding a bottle of water into his neck and charles looking at you the exactly deep way, you found the nearest couch and sit down, all the alcohol getting into your system got you all happy

"so you do like girls?" the french man asked

"oh i do like girls, i like them a lot" you take the bottle out of his hands and drink it

"do you want to dance?" charles asked you

"yup, but im a terrible dancer" you said and hold his hands, he guide both of you to the dance floor but instead of stopping there he entered one hide hallway

"that's not the dance floor" you said a little confused

"do you swear?" he said with that cute smile "just wanted to take you away from pierre before he actually got invented on flirting with you, and i don't want my best friend with his hands inside my engineer pants, dress, whatever"

"oh, ok, he's ths competition if you want to know, i would never" you emphasized the never

"truth or dare, y/n?" he sustained your look and locked your fingers

"truth"

"kissing me would be so bad that you choose to kiss a random girl?" you think about it and answered his question with another one

"truth or dare, charles?" it was your time to got closer

"you didn't answered my question"

"truth or dare, charles?" you asked again and this time he answered: "truth"

"do you want to show me how monegasque people kiss? considering you're pretty much french and people say that french people have the best kisses-" you were cut out of your sentence when charles grabbed you by your waist and switch positions, you were now with your back in the wall

"im gonna kiss you now, ok?" you nodded and his mouth was on yours, his tongue gently playing with yours, you were expecting something sweet, but when one of his hands went to hold your hair and the one that remained in your waist pulled you closer, deepening the kiss you got it and move your hands to his hair and shoulders, you were craving to scratch those shoulders

charles started to slow the kiss, he let you go just to kiss your jawline and your neck before looking at you again, both of you were breathless

"it was a good kiss?" he yet had the audacity to ask

"it was a really good kiss, can i have another?" you blinked innocently

"yeah, you can" and he leaned back again, the second kiss were less erratic, way more sensual, you were taking the time to know each other, learn how you like it, and jesus christ, charles knew what he was doing, the innocent, cute, two dimples and a little bit dumb chaotic energy was just a facade, that man knew how to push your buttons just with a simple kiss.

later that nigh he drive both of you back to the hotel, after all, he stopped drinking after you arrived and while he was stoned sober you were flushed and red from toes to head. you were staying in the same floor, so when the elevators doors closed he reached your hand, not locking your fingers, just holding your pinkie finger with his, it was ridiculously intimate, but you liked. he walked you to your room door and you lean there

"i don't want to throw a cold shower at you, but this cannot compromised our friendship or our work relationship" you said, actually holding his hand

"i think a good kiss makes wonderful things to a friendship, but I'll keep it professional, you become my favourite engineer and im not letting a couple of hot kisses ruin this. even though i want to ruin you, I'll keep it to myself" he said the last sentence lower and really close to your ear "have a good night, y/n"

"you too charles, I'll see you in a couple of weeks in france and I'm hoping for a tour"

"I'll tour you, just don't mention this to carlos or pierre" he chuckled

"i wont, now you go rest, i need my future champion to beat red bull shit out of them"

"if i knew you were that funny i would have bring you to monaco, but good night and have a safe flight"

"you too" he leaned one last time that day and give you a hug followed by a cheek kiss

you opened your door and closed really fast, before you changed your mind and do something really stupid. when you turn the lights on anna was laying in your bed, a glass of wine in her rand and her cellphone on the other one

"oh my fucking jesus christ, how do you get in here?" your heart were beating ten times faster

"im lewis hamilton engineer, i have privileges, now you better start telling me everything that happened tonight"

"it was a long night- wait, hold on that i think i lost carlos" you just remembered that you haven't seen him in hours and went to your phone

"he's sleeping, isa lecture him for 40 minutes about the process and losing and all of that and he slept, now spill it out"

it would be a really long night, but you sit down and tell everything to anna, and the next day when you got into your flight wearing the ferrari merch you posted something on twitter about the insanities pseudo french people could do. you were hoping thing not to change, you really like to work with ferrari.

"we're the best ones" your phone sound the twitter notification, it was charles response to your tweet.

next part here

it's finally happening our couple, see you after the French GP, hope you take all the tsiwft references

byeeeeeee

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula one imagine #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagine

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

[jameui]

MOVIE DATE

PAIRING: Hwang Hyunjin x Manager!M!Reader

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: Hyunjin being a jerk

SUMMARY: You boyfriend, Hyunjin took you out on a date to watch your favorite movie.

You sighed in exhaustion and as if the world was trying to test you, a fast running bicycle came your way causing you to jump to the side, so fast that you forgot about the takeouts you had in your hands and at a blink of an eye the neatly boxed items fell to the ground, all the food now spilled on the floor with your eyes widening in fear. "Shit!" You yelled out and tried to get back to the restaurant again, but as soon as you got there the line was already long and it'd take you ages to get to the counter to order, again.

You were at your way to your work with your phone squeezed in between your shoulder and ear as you talked to your co-manager on the other line who seemed agitated for your tardiness, while you tried to balance the foods you were made to order. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure that won't happen again." You told the male before the call was cut short when he decided to hang up all of a sudden.

Looking around, you saw a chinese restaurant that had the smallest line, so you went there and bought the food there, even though the orders of the group was not exactly what they wanted for you to buy. You just couldn't go back empty handed.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the venue of the fansign event and got there just in time before Stray Kids were called to the stage for their activity to be done, but the moment you got there you saw that the people present were already eating their food away. They noticed your presence entering the room whilst their head turned to look at you. "I... Good morning, everyone." You greeted them. 'Guess their manager got their food delivered.'

You didn't get a reply, except from the group who was more than happy to see that you had food on your hands. "Hyung! Thank God. I was starving." The group's youngest, Jeongin said as he helped you put the foods down on the table. "You're seriously a life saver."

You smiled at him giving him a muttered thanks that earned you a smile from Jeongin. Honestly speaking, Jeongin was the second best person you ever liked in the group, the first being Lee Felix since he was the only person to ever approach you on your first day since he was able to see how much you were so nervous. Felix was also one of the members who taught you korean, the other being Bang Chan. You had always knew the group back then, and now and you were damn thankful that you got the opportunity to be in their circle.

Knowing how young you were to be working for them, they treated you nicely, not because they needed to, rather cause it was in their nature to be caring. Well, at least except one person. You were the closest to Felix who treated you like his personal manager and a friend as well, going out on friendly dates with you to the park, dog cafés, just anywhere Felix would find interesting to visit.

Who's the person that seemed irritated whenever you were around you ask? Why, the one and only visual king, Hwang Hyunjin. He doesn't actually treat you bad, but the way his eyes would always turn dark or displeased when you show up in his line of sight made you feel so small and felt totally unwelcomed. That was then, apparently, since today the male looked a little too quiet and didn't even bother to look at you. Believe me or not that's actually the kindest thing he's done to you.

You would try to go to him to try and talk to him, worried by his silence. You just furrowed your brows and sighed completely aware that no matter how much you try to talk to him he won't even dare to acknowledge you being there for him.

"M/n, are you just gonna stand there? Come and eat." Chan told you, but you just politely declined his offer with the shake of your head before telling him that you had just taken your breakfast and that you were full, more and you feel like your stomach's gonna burst. "Hm, suit yourself, but I'll be leaving mine untouched, so you can eat it when you get hungry, yeah?"

"You're so kind, Chan." You gave him a smile that got Chan smiling also showing his deep dimples that you could just dive in it anytime soon.

"Hey, hey, hey! We've known each other the longest. Why do I still have to call you 'hyung' and M/n doesn't?" Jisung, one of the group's rapper, pouted with folded arms as Chan chuckled before ruffling the kid's hair that Jisung angrily shook off.

"Well, since he's not that spoiled, unlike you." Chan answered Jisung who gasped dramatically. "And he also gained my permission, so—"

"Whenever or not he's around, is he the only person that ever comes into your mind?" That all too familiar voice spoke out, all your heads turning towards the person. He scoffed and stood up with a smirk on his face, probably in disbelief that the whole group was talking to you and always thought about you. "I mean, come on. There's gotta be something else to talk about other than this... person." You felt his eyes look at you while your eyes stared at him with rising anger. "There's sports, other artists, songs, music, so many and you chose to pick him as the topic of your talk."

"Hyunjin, that is very disrespectful." Chan gritted out, but Hyunjin knew better than to listen or to even stop.

"I'm really not, hyung." Hyunjin's smirk grew wider eyeing you with a suspicious look on his eyes. An idea popped in his head as he opened his mouth to talk. "But, if you want to, I could show you how disrespectful I can get." Without any warning, he took the take-out container and bottled drink in his hand and gave you no second to react as he poured all of its contents onto your head with a loud gasp coming out of you. "There. I'll call it a masterpiece even."

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Bang Chan's voice boomed through the whole room a still smirking Hyunjin turning around to face the older male who was fuming with anger. "You—"

"Chan!" You called out to him before things got a little out of hand. For pete's sake their going to just fight because Hyunjin had made a mess of you? You were not even worth the fight. "No. I'm fine. I can just quickly change, that's all. I'll be right back and I better get no reports about you two fighting." You told the two, Chan rolling his eyes.

You got out of the room and ran as fast as you can to the nearest restroom, cleaning yourself as soon as you arrived. Times like this you would immediately bawl your eyes out, but with the constant behavior that Hyunjin showed to you, you grew used to it. Heck, you even sometimes feel that the other boys only act like they liked you being there and when you weren't, they'd stab you behind your back. "Goodness, why won't this get off."

"Need help?" A raspy voice came from the entrance of the restroom, turning your head around to see Felix leaning himself on the door frame with his arms crossed, then untangled them to let his hands rest inside his pockets and stepped inside as you smiled at him. "Do you need more tissue?"

You shook your head at him, your attention back on your stained favorite shirt wiping them clean with the tissues the place's restroom owned. "Nah, there's plenty here. Besides, I'm all dried up now." You said and showed yourself to him, Felix knitting his brows in worry.

He seeped air through his teeth and cocked his head to the side, unsure if you should be wearing that now dirty shirt when you'd be with them during the activity the whole time. "I don't think you should be wearing that."

"Why? It's my favorite sweater." You chuckled half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I know, M/n, but it's dirty. Plus, I think it gets pretty uncomfortable seeing that stain on your shirt and it gets sticky. Yeugh." Felix pretended to barf which got you laughing softly. Felix, though not trying to be funny, whatever he does it always seemed so funny to you.

"Fine, fine. I'll go change, the problem though is that I didn't bring an extra shirt with me today." You told Felix scratching your nape.

"Really? Well, I guess we have to borrow from one of the group's." Felix suggested, but your eyes grew sizes bigger upon hearing that and waved your hands.

"No way, Felix! I have already done enough damage, I can't afford to borrow a shirt from one of the members, or to you even." You told him, but it all fell on deaf ears as Felix refused to listen. "I'm just trouble, Felix. You don't have to worry about me."

Felix hummed with two fingers pinching his chin gently. "Yeah, I don't think so." He took your wrist and started to drag you back to the dressing room. "Come on, I know there's someone willing to let you borrow a shirt." You just sighed, knowing that Felix won't even dare to change his mind when he had already set them on something.

Alas, as you two got there, none of the members even had a spare shirt to let you borrow. They were very willing and even tried to look around if there was anything, but to no avail. Although, there was one last person you didn't ask. "Hyunjin. You were the cause of this mess, you let him borrow your shirt." Felix sternly told the older male who pilled his brows together.

"What?! No way! Are you telling me I'd offer to do something for that guy? No!" Hyunjin retorted making Felix growl.

Felix was so ready to throw punches at the male who didn't seem to be bothered by the situation, but you just put a hand on Felix's shoulder and assured him. "That's alright, Felix. My sweater was thick enough to not get my undershirt wet. Although, I'm grateful for your effort." You smiled at him and sighed.

Just in time, you heard a call from one of your co-manager that the group was already being requested to be at the stage right now. You gave them an encouraging smile as they all did the same. "Alright boys. It's time to go out there and meet millions of your fans."

The group all shouted, excluding Hyunjin, hurray and hurried out to get on stage, you following behind after you were able to discard your sweater, leaving you only on your black t-shirt. You shivered at the cold now that you were left with a thin clothing that wasn't appropriate for the type of weather you were having and not mention that the place was fully air-conditioned.

Your shaking was not too evident, but one of the members, Seungmin, was able to notice it. Feeling pity he made his way to Hyunjin and tried to convince him. "Jinnie, M/n's cold. Please lend him your jacket, at least. He'll get sick if he continues to get exposed to the cold."

"Better for him."

"Hyunjin, please... Besides, you're already wearing thick layers of clothes why not let M/n borrow." Seungmin reasoned out and solemnly knitted his brows to persuade the male, Hyunjin rolling his eyes at his bestfriend and huffed before taking his jacket off of him and handed it over to Seungmin who silently squeaked. "Thanks, Hyunjin." Hyunjin brushed it off with a 'whatever', the younger of the two jogging his way towards you and gave you the jacket he got from Hyunjin. "I noticed your shivering, so I want you to take this jacket and no, you can't say you can't accept it."

You nodded your head at him and took the jacket from his hands. "Thank you, Seungmin."

"My pleasure." He smiled at you with those puppy dog like smile. He skipped back to reunite with his group while you put on the jacket that Seungmin offered you. You were still in thought though how Seungmin was able to convince Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket. You knew Hyunjin owned the jacket since he wouldn't let them go since the moment you arrived.

You noticed how the jacket was too big for you, since the sleeves of the piece of clothing only let your fingers peek out through the holes while the flaps reached further down your hips, but it totally felt cozy and smelled like... Hyunjin. How do you explain it? You don't even know where to begin. It was him. The reason why you wanted to work with Stray Kids. You didn't want to look like you were some type of stalker, but all you ever wanted was to befriend Hyunjin.

The befriending process didn't go the way you actually thought it would go. Everytime his eyes met yours or you heard his voice you'd get all flustered and so nervous that your tongue always gets tied, the words you want to tell him gets trapped inside your mouth. It all started to be just an admiration towards the slightly older male until your determination to become his friend gradually became an unknown feeling towards Hyunjin, until realizing later that you actually liked the group's rapper, despite all his bad treatment towards you.

Back to reality, you hugged yourself and took in the wonderful scent the artist gave off until one of your co-worker nudged you. "Hey, stop sniffing the clothes. You totally look like a sasaeng."

"W-what? I wasn't sniffing anything." You denied it earning an eye roll. Later, you heard the whole place bursted into shouts of joy and excitement as Stray Kids made their appearance on the stage greeting all their fans inside and outside of the place. They all took their turns taking the mic to express their happiness and gratefulness to their ocean of fans that filled up the whole place.

Soon, the group was seated at a long rectangular table that was a perfect fit letting all the members seat on their respective seats. There were chairs as well settled in front of the table with each settled across a specific member.

You were appointed to keep guard and stand behind Hyunjin, in any case of fans throwing shade at him or any forms of harm or hate towards the member who had just been caught up in a supposed bullying rumor.

The line started to form as people who were present inside the place took their turns to talk to each member and get a sign from them. So far, you could only wonder how paranoid the company was to keep you on guard of Hyunjin when all these people here are Stays and they wouldn't do such thing to throw hate to any members in the group. Right?

The line was still too long to be gone in just minutes making you sigh, hearing your tummy rumble hoping that no one heard that. You now finally regret not eating that noodles that Chan offered you, the hunger finally hitting your system as your tummy continued to grumble. You pursed your lips and forced your eyes closed while you brought your head down in embarrassment. 'Fuck... why now?'

After a short while, the line was starting to get shorter and shorter, you thanking the heavens for the fast passing by of the time. But, the moment you least expected to happen happened. You felt a harsh tap on your legs and another and another after it finally took your attention, getting a little shocked that the action was done by the person who hated you the worst. "Take it before I change my mind." He told you. You complied and bowed at him politely as he tuts his tongue. "Who would even think of going to work on an empty stomach?"

'You... poured it on me?' You thought then shrugging it off before you looked at the treat offered to you by Hyunjin. You wondered what type of bread it was and hesitated, although Hyunjin's back was facing you he was able to sense your hard time on trying to eat what he gave you.

"It's not poisoned, M/n." He whispered as he signed the album that had his photo on it, then looking up at the fan who would like to talk to him.

Their talk wasn't audible to you, but you opened the packaging of the nicely wrapped pastry and bit on it with your body facing the wall so your back was turned against the people to cover yourself while you ate. One of your co-manager did notice your unwanted behavior and stomped his way to you and took the baked good from your hands and threw it to the ground to step on it and crush it good. "What do you think you're doing, L/n?! You're being inappropriate right now." He gritted out to you with a small voice almost like a whisper so no one else would hear you two. You bowed your head subtly before a hand was placed right below your chin as you looked up at him confused. "Spit." He ordered, referring to the food you were chewing.

You nod your head and spit out the food that was in your mouth into his hand while he picked up the wasted food and left, then threw it all at a trash can. "Fuck." You sighed as you held your chest and slowly turned around to face the non-existent line, the group now interacting with their fans.

Just looking at them now, you were able to remember when you were the one who was there seated at the chairs shouting out the name of the person you would call as your bias, which is no other than Kim Seungmin. At least, when you still didn't take the job to be one of the group's manager. Usually, it would only take one manager to manage the group, but why did this group require another one? You questioned yourself. It was all unexplained to you, but all you gotta do was to just be glad that you get to be friends with the people you see as your role models.

"Hyunjin-ah! When did you start trading jackets with your manager?" The question came out as a shout that got everyone laughing, including the group. You were only able to chuckle knowing that it was Seungmin who convinced Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket.

Hyunjin didn't get to answer the question, when another fan spoke from the crowd that got every fans' attention. "Are rumors true that you don't treat Manager L/n well?"

Chan furrowed his brows and picked up his microphone. "Where did you get this story?" He chuckled trying to make it sound that it wasn't true and just pure bluff. Chan looked at Hyunjin with the face that told Hyunjin that he should start treating you well if he didn't want the netizens to know about his treatment towards you. "Anyways, it's seriously not true."

-----------

A few minutes later and the event was finally finished and the group was bidding their goodbyes to their fans as they started to walk backstage. You waited for them at their waiting room with a handful of bottled waters for the boys to pick up once they get inside. The door soon opened revealing the group with a tense atmosphere following them that got you so confused. "Hey—"

"Hyunjin. If word gets out about your mistreatment to M/n, that would be a serious damage to our image and to M/n as well, 'cause he's obviously in pain because of you!" Chan yelled at the trouble causing male who only rolled his eyes paying no heed to his warning.

"Atleast, I never went too far as to really hurt him physically." Hyunjin deadpanned Chan growling at his response. Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, then to Chan not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You are seriously being a jerk right now, Hyunjin." Chan fumed in anger while Hyunjin just continued to act deaf and played on his phone. Chan, giving up, sighed and plopped down on his seat. "Ayayay."

They took turns in getting your glances as you thought of a way to calm the atmosphere. You had already been their manager for a over a year now and this was the only time that Hyunjin ever spoke up to Chan and, to top it off, with sass and without the slightest feeling of being bothered. That was the moment you felt like you had enough. You've had enough with all these things. You were tired of yourself to even think that Hyunjin would finally soften up to you and be his friend. You were wrong to even apply for this kind of job. The group wouldn't be fighting if it hadn't been for you appearing in their lives all so suddenly. "Guys... let him do as he pleases. I'll be the one to take of whatever the netizens hear."

Chan raised his eyes up at you with furrowed brows. "What do you plan on doing? Whatever it is don't do it."

You smiled and nodded. "I won't, Chan." You held up the bottles in your hands and turned on a toothy smile. "Water? Anyone?" They all sighed in relief and got their turns in picking their own bottled water, the last one not being picked up by Hyunjin, so you decided to give it to him. You brought the cold drink to his face making him flinch as he looked up at you. "Thank you for the bread, by the way." You told him and giggled. "I've already packed your jacket in your bag." You informed him and patted his back.

The once crazily terrifying atmosphere now turned into a more comfortable one, the one you always would want to see. You didn't know what got you the courage to speak or blurt out whatever you had in your mind, but you looked at Hyunjin and said: "Hyunjin, can I talk to you privately?" Thankfully, their loud voices was able to distract themselves from hearing your request to Hyunjin who sighed and nodded his head. He stood up from his seat and started to move outside of the room. You followed behind closely, feeling intimidated by the month older's tall figure. "Hyunjin..."

"Cut to the chase, M/n. I don't have much time." He told you as you nod your head in understanding and fiddled with your fingers.

"I know, you'd probably like hearing this, but could I have the permission to quit as your group's manager?" You asked him, his forehead creasing that made him pull his brows together. "I was able to notice what the group had become the moment I became your manager—"

"And do you think quitting would change it?" Hyunjin asked you with a raised brow. "If anything, it'd probably—no, it would break their hearts to know that you quitted. If you do so, you're not only quitting as a manager, but as their friend as well."

"And you're able to say that after you purposely tried to have me fired or suspended from work by offering me that bread?" You sarcastically answered, Hyunjin clearing his throat.

"Well... that wasn't my intention. I didn't even know it'd get you fired." Hyunjin replied making you chuckle.

"Yeah..." You replied with a sad smile. "But, I don't wanna be the reason why you and Chan would always fight. Stray Kids is Stray Kids because they're fun and loving, caring. And I don't want to change that by being around the group." Hyunjin never replied anymore and you sighed. "I'm heading back now." You said and as you started to walk back inside, Hyunjin spoke.

"I wish you never entered our life, at all, M/n." He told you that got your heart broken into pieces. Sure, you admitted that he never liked you even just a bit, but him saying it so bluntly to you, it's like he does really mean it and could only care less. You were about to speak when Hyunjin beat you to it. "If so, I wouldn't be able to garner these undeniable feelings I have for you."

You froze. Were you hearing right? You just cleaned your ears this morning, well you do it everyday. Is your ear trying to play with you? "W-what?"

"DAMN! WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT?!" You gasped with your mouth full of popcorn, your boyfriend, Hyunjin seated beside you at the movie theater. He smiled at you admiring how cute you looked with your shocked expression that was being illuminated by the big screen. "Jinnie! Look, they're gonna kiss! AH!!" As the two actors in the movie was about to kiss, one of the movie's cast bursted out of the door cutting the kiss and earned a few 'oh's and 'I hate you, Chan's. "Chan is such a cock blocker."

"Watch your mouth, babe." Hyunjin told you making you pout.

"It's true, though!" You retorted and Hyunjin could only laugh at your cuteness and honest opinions.

#hwang hyunjin x male reader #bottom male reader #x male reader #bxb #male reader #idol x male reader #kpop #fanfiction #stray kids x male reader #skz x male reader #stray kids #boy group #angsty #skz #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin

[tarosin]

The great adventures of y/n, Tommy, Jack and Tubbo

Requested:yes/no

Pairing: Platonic jack/tommy/tubbo/reader

Summary: another day another adventure

Content warning: cursing / I didn't proof read

An: reader has bright unnatural hair I wrote a lot, I can't figure out how to add read more on mobile I'm sorry

The music you were currently listening to was interrupted by the discord group notifying you that you have a new message.

Tommy: Y/N HOW BUSY ARE YOU TUBBO HAS COME TO VISIT AND JACK IS HERE

y/n: I mean I've currently got hair dye on but it’s being washed off and dried in around 20 minutes, why?

y/n: WAIT TUBBO?!?!

tubbo: oh yeah I forgot to tell you

y/n: how did you forget you know what nevermind, I’m glad you’re here :]

jack: we should be here in an hour so you have plenty of time to get ready

tubbo: what colour dye y/n

y/n: you’ll see soon enough as apparently, you’re all showing up at my house

Tommy: I suggest you wear comfortable shoes

y/n: I am terrified

Tommy: you have nothing to fear... for now

•••

luckily it had only taken you just over 40 minutes to get ready giving you roughly 20 minutes to prepare for the adventure ahead. or so you thought, as soon as you sat down ready to check your phone the sound of Tommy and tubbo laughing could be heard from your room, jack sent a message “hey we got here extremely early I’m sorry there’s no rush the others have been distracted by dreams music :)”

grabbing a backpack from next to your bed you had quickly chucked your phone and purse into the bag unsure as to what you’re going to need today.

•••

as soon as you opened the door you were met with an ecstatic tubbo who instantly pulled you into a hug unable to contain their excitement of seeing their friend

“I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN AGES YOUVE CHANGED SO MUCH LOOK AT YOUR HAIR”

“I look exactly the same”

“Now I’m no genius y/n but last time we spoke you didn’t have unnatural hair”

you paused for a moment as tubbo had a point the last time you and tubbo were on face time your hair was classed as a natural colour however today as a fuck you to your school which didn’t allow unnatural hair you decided to dye it your favourite colour.

“you raise a fair point now if you don’t mind releasing me from your grasp I have to lock the door so no one gets in”

•••

“Tommy unlock the door let tubbo and y/n in”

“Y/N YOU'RE HERE- HOLY SHIT YOUR HAIR! JACK ARE YOU SEEING THIS”

“Hello to you too Tommy”

“well if we weren’t going to get noticed at the shopping centre earlier y/ns bright fucking hair will definitely cause people to notice us”

“oh I’m sorry I didn’t expect to be going shopping with a bunch of Minecraft streamers today”

“don’t you stream Minecraft?”

“This isn’t about me jack”

the trip to the shops was surprisingly relaxing y/n sat at the front listening to jack sing along to songs playing on the radio, however, it was clear the boys had something they weren’t telling y/n which became evident through Tommy and tubbo bickering in the back of the car about who was going to tell them. it was a relatively short journey due to the fact you lived close to the city centre

•••

“let’s go shopping boys” Tommy practically yelled to everyone, tubbo held his phone in your direction then looked towards you, nodding at him you grabbed his phone and began recording

“I'm vlogging”

Tommy walked over “YEAHHHHH”

walking past cex you had to put up with Tommy making sex jokes until you made it to game, you stood holding back your laugh as you filmed Tommy and tubbo fighting about who’s paying whilst jack went off to buy a Minecraft squishy and mug despite everyone’s arguments against it. soon enough fans came over asking for photos with you all once the group of fans left jack took over recording for tubbo whilst you went off to quickly buy some games that you could play on stream.

•••

“want a wig bro? jack!”

the four of you walked into the shop, you couldn’t help but stand in awe looking at all the bright colours already questioning what colour to dye your hair next the sound of Tommy and jack being amazed pulled you out of your thoughts

“Gogy goggles, I’m actually buying them”

“i wan’t a pair”

“no, you’re getting a wig jack”

“I don’t want a wig I want George”

“y/n has bright hair and they’re not complaining”

“what do you have against people with colourful hair jack hmm?”

•••

“I'm not happy”

“you look lovely jack”

“we’re getting so many looks”

tubbo stopped everyone to ‘fix’ jacks wig which resulted in everyone laughing once you had finally stopped laughing you noticed tubbo had walked off and you were convinced jack had randomly decided to record strangers until you saw tubbo going up and down escalators

“oh there he goes again”

“pov you’re thinking about bees”

“where to next boys?”

Tommy pointed towards the lift

“Is this a lift for us”

Tommy noticed the safety sign and automatically made comments about it

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if I wasn’t carrying a knife”

“oh same Tommy”

“look you can see me”

taking that as an invitation to join the vlog you stood behind tubbo and pointed at the sign again and looked at Tommy and jack

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if we weren’t about to do this-“

the three of you went to jump up and down

“NO”

the four of you quietly left the lift however you were convinced that the public heard Tommy comment on having a knife and you threatening to jump as once the lift opened everyone was staring at you but it could also be due to the fact you had brightly coloured hair and somehow convinced jack to keep the wig on, you all spent a long time trying to convince Tommy to get a new outfit, eventually you went into another shop a certain keyboard caught your eye

“I’ve found my home, ill stay here at the gamer bunker”

you decided now was the perfect time to sneak off to buy the keyboard that had caught your eye, once tubbo noticed it was too late you stood holding the bag with your purchase leaving you stood in the middle of the shop defending your purchase to him claiming that it was a business expense and not just because you thought it looked cool.

“you told me you wanted to save your money”

“it lights up tubbo and it fits the vibe of my room”

Tommy placed his arm on your head treating you as an armrest as you were shorter than him and he knew it annoyed you

“they have a point tubbo it lights up”

once the recording ended you made your way back to the car

“say y/n you wouldn’t mind if me Tommy and jack stayed the night as tomorrow we were thinking-“

“sure thing”

“YESSSSSS”

•••

the next day you were woken up at 9 am by Tommy stood at the foot of your bed

“hi y/n”

“WHAT THE FUCK- oh hi Tommy Jesus christ do you know how horrifying that was to wake up to”

“Sorry bout that but if I didn’t wake you up now you’d only wake up in the afternoon and we need to go soon I’ll leave you to get ready”

you noticed a note was next to a jumper on the floor ‘hi, thanks for letting us stay the night I really liked your hoodie so I decided to wear it today here’s mine in exchange- Tubbo :D’

normally you’d be concerned that someone stole your hoodie as you live with your parents however today was an exception once you were all ready you set off jack pulled into a McDonald's drive-through so you could all get breakfast

“nice hoodie y/n”

“Thanks, someone took mine and decided to make a trade”

“you’re welcome”

the journey was quiet again you sat next to tubbo in the back Tommy sat at the front screaming at jack and trying to distract him and people around you decided to took a picture with tubbo who now had his arm wrapped around you as it was rather cold in the car and posted it to Twitter ‘@ ranboosaysstuff wish you were here :D’ less than a minute later you received 2 notifications ‘ranboosaysstuff replied to your tweet: same’ ‘ ranboosaysstuff has tweeted: *the spongebob gif*’

•••

soon enough you all arrived at mint golf to say you we’re excited would be an understatement

“can I get the shortest club you have”

you stood hiding your face in the jumper tubbo left you whilst you laughed a few minutes later you received a call from ranboo the others said they’d sort everything for you whilst you answered

“what’s up tall one”

“stay safe okay”

“ranboo it’s mini-golf I’m not fighting criminals”

“yes but I know how clumsy you are”

“first of all rude second of all fuck you third of all jealousy isn’t a good look on you” you managed to say through laughter

“jokes aside please come to the UK boo”

“oh sure I’ll go book a plane ticket now” *ranboo ended the call*

ranboo made jokes like that before however this time sounded a lot more serious and you had no idea why he called you so you made a mental note to call him again later. once with friends again you were met with Tommy telling the worker all about you all

“yeah we’re big on the influencing”

“What on earth did I walk in on”

“no time to explain let’s go golf”

you were handed a club and a ball and were dragged away by jack

•••

tubbo joked about getting a hole on one as soon as it was his go, you bet £10 with jack he wouldn't

“hand over the money y/n”

you looked at Tommy who was now recording you handing jack the money “so today we have learnt to not underestimate your friends and that gambling is bad. you lose your money to a tall bald guy”

to put it politely you and Tommy found out that mini golf is not your calling in life

“ill stick to streaming“

“you’re both losing by the way”

“yeah well- why and how does tubbo have soup”

tubbo stood cradling the soup as though it was a child

“Some things I can’t explain to you”

you stood tilting your head to the side questioning where the hell he got soup from

“eh”

“soups like a small child I take care of it as if it was my own”

you couldn’t contain your laughter at this point the confused faces of your friends alongside tubbos happiness of soup sent you over the edge so you decided to just sit down before you fall as your knees were already weak from laughing too much

“where did you get the soup from”

“I manifested it”

•••

after a few solid minutes of arguing over soup you and Tommy dropping the phone you all continued with bowling.

“tubbo get out of the way of my dream ball”

you stood recording jack cheering him on tubbo had different plans and kicked the ball away resulting in jack giving up and copying what you had been doing most of the rounds, after missing the hole 3 times each go, picking up the ball and placing it in the hole however again he missed

“you can’t be serious”

“golf isn’t for everyone big man”

Tommy took the phone from you to record “pov you’re me golfing”

•••

“how do we get across there”

“probably the bridge”

Tommy pulled to rope moving the bridge across the gap

“Why thank you, Tommy, wouldn’t have been able to do it without you”

you laughed

“you're extremely welcome y/n it was extremely easy because I’m a big muscly man”

golf was finally going well till you hit the ball a bit too hard causing it to go over the fence tubbo was able to get the ball back

“I’ve been watching a lot of doctor shows” you stood amazed at how far you made the ball go

“see the issue is its mini golf. if this was regular golf I'd have got a hole in one I'm telling you”

•••

“I'm never being in your vlog again”

jack looked at you and tubbo who was now laughing at you pretending to worship the can of soup in the hole

“Tommy please come back”

the rest of the game was chaos, you kept missing the hole then claiming to rage quit golf tubbo and Tommy kept making jokes jack left his drink somewhere then had to go back and find it, no one had been paying attention to you which allowed you to take the score sheet and make it so you had won the game eventually he game was over you had declared yourself the champion of golf despite the fact everyone was better than you including Tommy

•••

the journey back was chaos you called ranboo who claimed he only called you to plan a video/stream with you however it was clear that wasn’t the reason tubbo whispered to you so no one could hear

“I think he wants to be here with us I think he’s jealous”

you laughed and nodded

“of course”

eventually, you all made it back to yours, ranboo said goodbye to everyone then ended the call now it was time for you to say your goodbyes. since your love language was physical touch you hugged everyone. As you walked into your house Tommy yelled “Y/N HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT PLANES”

#tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit x reader #jack manifold fluff #jack manifold x y/n #jack manifold x you #jack manifold x reader #tubbo x you #tubbo x y/n #tubbo fluff #tubbo imagine #jack manifold imagine #tubbo x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt fluff

[halaboyz]

pairing: ex! eric x gn! reader genre: fluff, angst word count: 2.6k warnings: profanities. notes: this is for the collab event called the leftovers @tenderfrailty is hosting !! ♡ happy valentine's!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summary: meeting him again two years after your break up, in the middle of the crowd, with his own partner, it tugs on your heartstrings because of multiple reasons. one, it was the month of you became a couple; two, it was both of yours favorite month; three, it's the start of the month you both drifted apart; four, it's the month he finally breaks up with you; five, today was both the day you answered him and broke it off.

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ 。 listen now to: spotify. 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

February 13, 2022, 11:39 in the evening. And until today too, my heart still beats for you.

“I’m going, I’m going. God,” You exasperatingly groan over the phone, Chanhee’s squeals are heard as you wince and extend your arm to avoid getting your ear damaged. “I’ll be there in ten,” You look at your clothes one last time, hanging up once you hear Chanhee’s hum. “I’ll be the first fucking single on a couples event,” You hiss at yourself, trying to remember the reason why you even agreed to Chanhee’s invitation in the first place.

Your university held an event where various bands performed for free throughout the night just for the sake of Valentine’s. You didn’t understand why they did, though it was annually and it hasn’t even been 2 years— well, not at least the clock strikes twelve— when you enjoyed it.

A whole two new years, yet you still haven’t moved on.

“...Your date?” The guard asks you politely, looking around you.

“Do I need a date to enter?” You smile at him, shrugging your shoulders.

“No, but— it’s Valentine’s..?” He cautiously chuckles, stamping your wrist.

“I could spend it with my friends,” You smile again, internally saying even though they probably would be off with their partners, “Thank you,” Letting you in, you sigh as the bright spotlights welcome you into the venue, the breeze making its presence known, and the bustling and the excited murmurs of the big audience. A sigh leaves your lips, memories flooding your head as you try to dig them deep down, dialing Chanhee.

“Enjoy the night, y/n! You’re already there, you should stay. It starts in less than ten minutes. Your favorite band is here!” You suppress the urge to groan and shout at your friend, who apparently had no plans of going here today.

It was no point arguing with him over the phone, the screams already rising as you exasperatedly sigh, not bothering to bid farewell as you drop the call.

You were already here. Might as well enjoy whatever was prepared in today’s event. Two minutes to twelve, you wanted a bottle of water as you slipped your way to one of the booths, avoiding any pity eyes that landed at you and your single ass.

Opening the bottle of water, you were about to drink from it when someone accidentally bumps you, spilling the water all over your face.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” And it makes your world stop, your eyes blocked out of any murmurs but his voice. “Are you oka— oh,” You can’t decipher whether it was disappointment or anything, you were just stunned to see him.

Because after your breakup, you went back to what you were, where you were— back into your shell. You hated socializing, you hated going out. You hated being alone, most importantly in big crowds like this.

Eric did it all. He made you something you were not, something similar to him, something you once loathed, turned to someone you really loved to be— until it happened. Until the breakup happened, and you loathed it again.

“Love,” You didn’t even realize you were just staring at each other until another person reaches out for his arms, tugging him in his senses. “Oh my god, are you okay? Did you bump into them? I said be careful!” Slapping Eric’s arm lightly, they bow in apology as you gathered the courage to bring a small smile.

“Sorry,” He mumbles once again, handing you a bunch of tissues before he lets himself get dragged to the middle of the crowd, your eyes tailing him.

And it all comes back again. You see it from the back when Eric loops his arms over his partner’s shoulders, pulling them impossibly closer until their head is all snuggled up in Eric’s neck.

It all comes back again— the memories, the happiness, the feelings, the heartbreak.

February 12, 2017, 5:31 in the afternoon. Our eyes met, and I instantly knew that loving you was something I’d never regret.

“Are you going?!” Younghoon shakes your arm as you organize your locker, frowning at you. “It’s in two days!”

“That’s the point, it’s in two days!” You retort, losing your locker to face him. “And I’m single! The fuck would I go to a couples’ event?” You shrug, laughing.

“So you’re telling me if someone asks you to Valentine’s, you’ll go?” Younghoon stops you on your tracks, standing in front of you.

“Yeah, right, Younghoon.. If someone asks me,” You nod mockingly, leaving him in despair as you go on with your class.

“Hi, is this taken?” Someone drags the seat beside you, and when you shake your head as you busily highlighted your book, he takes his seat, quietly taking his things out. The whole room was chaotic, full of gossip about the upcoming event but you paid no attention, shredding Eric’s courage to pieces.

He had always wanted to take you out the first time he laid his eyes on you, the unbothered-ness you emitted every time you stepped on the room, on your usual seat by the back-most corner, not batting an eye on anyone and anything else rather than your book and the professor.

He was different. As much as you were reserved, was as much as how he was the social butterfly. He enjoyed socializing and maybe it is even one of the reasons why he’s even so interested in you— he can befriend anyone except you.

“Hey, can I borrow a pen?” He starts, and instead of looking at your hands that fiddled with your bag to lend him one, he was staring at your face.

“Here—,” You stop when you turn to face him and give him the pen, but just like Eric was so mesmerized by you, you were with him.

“Come with me on Valentine’s, please?”

And you never regretted having to meet eyes with someone the first time in Literature class.

February 14, 2018, 11:20 in the evening. I realized I can give you the world, the mountains, the stars, and everything else when I’m with you, so trust me when I say that my feelings are nothing but true.

“I’m so excited,” Eric tries to stop the smile from forming, leading you inside the venue with a hand on the small of your back.

“Why, because this time, I’m the one who asked you to go with me?” You chuckle, settling to be on one of the rails of the tree that you can sit on, just a perfect view to see the bands performing. “You’ve been chasing me for a whole year already, aren’t you tired?” Patting the space next to you, Eric takes it happily.

“I’ll never get tired when it comes to you.” Eric cheekily says which makes you cringe, but let’s be honest here. Despite the anxiousness building up inside of you, fireworks still went off in your stomach. “Let me just get you some water.” You nod at him sweetly, and your eyes roam around for Younghoon, and when your eyes met, he raises his hand to wave at you and makes a beeline to walk to you.

“Are you good? Oh my god, I can’t believe you managed to go out without me and Chanhee basically wanting to drag you out,” Giving you a small proud hug, he acted as if there were tears running out of his eyes. “Where’s Eric? Are you ready?” Younghoon holds your shoulders tightly as if he was transferring his energy to you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. But there wouldn’t be the best time if not now,” You nod dignified, inhaling and exhaling. “Right?”

“Eric will be worth it.” Younghoon smiles at you, and just after he says that, Eric’s voice is already loud enough to shoo him off, going to where Chanhee was smiling at you proudly in the distance.

“Who were you talking to?” Eric pouts, handing you the half-opened bottle of water. “Pink-headed one,”

“Why, you jealous?” You raise your brow challengingly, egging him to answer.

“What if I am?”

“You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that man, you know?” You chuckle. “It’s Younghoon.”

“Oh.” Shyly looking away, a series of laughter leaves your lips again as the voices of the audience get louder, the emcee already taking his place in the middle of the stage.

“Come here, it’s starting.” You tug his arms to make him tumble closer to you, the audience already pressing themselves to each other just to get a better view.

The both of you silently waited, your heart thumping out of its cage without Eric’s knowledge of why.

“Are you ready?!” The emcee asks through the mic, pointing it to the audience for a series of yes to come out. “3.. 2.. 1! Happy Valentine’s!” And the first band, Ben&Ben starts to play their first song, Ride Home. Your eyes trail up the heart fireworks that come off, your hand slowly intertwining with Eric’s.

“Eric.” You mumble, but you didn’t realize he was too dazed by the fact that you just intertwined hands. You turn to him, a big smile on your face. “Eric.”

“Yeah?” Eric goes back to his senses with a loud-beating heart, trying to meet your eyes but due to nervousness, he can’t. So your other hand sweetly cups his cheek to stop him from looking everywhere but you.

“I think we’ll be better off as lovers by today,”

And that was how you got your favorite month, your favorite band, and your favorite heartbreak.

February 13, 2019, 9:29 in the evening. I don’t know when it started, why it happened, what happened. Your love was fading, but mine just grew stronger. You were slowly letting go, and I knew, but my hand still put its faith in you.

“...You can’t go?” Your voice falls when you hear what Eric said through the call, disappointingly looking at the mountains of clothes you had prepared on your bed. “Why?”

“I have to finish some reqs.” Eric timidly explains, sighing. “We can always go next year, y/n. Don’t act so whiny about it.” And with your voice, your heart falls to the pits of the ground.

It wasn’t just a date, it was your anniversary. You don’t know if he wasn’t aware, or if he chooses to act like he wasn’t aware. The past few weeks, or even months, haven’t been the best for the both of you, full of petty arguments and childish jealousy blooming inside each others’ chests.

You were hoping today would change it.

Well, hope has now flown out of your chest.

January 30, 2020, 7:19 in the evening. Your voice just keeps on getting stronger, mine just kept getting weaker, but we were both getting tired.

“We’re just friends, Eric. Sangyeon hasn’t even talked to me that much these few days.” You sigh for the nth time, explaining for the nth time. “And for god’s sake, every time you see us talking, it’s about our thesis,”

Eric was fuming, you could almost see smoke out of his ears as he paced around the living room as you stayed glued on the sofa.

“You know I don’t do well on befriending someone. You should be proud I got one,”

“Yeah, right. Friends laugh while talking about thesis, all the fucking time. Friends always get coffee after they go to the library all the fucking time. Friends always talk about the other friend to their other friends all the fucking time.” Eric trails out, glaring at you. You sigh at the revelation of his anger, the anger that has been there since last year for Sangyeon.

“Look, I know Sangyeon likes me, but how did you even know he was talking about me to his other friends?” You roll your eyes, hiding your annoyance from him. “And what even is it to us if Sangyeon likes me? I’m here, I am right here, Eric. Beside you, coming home to you. Can we just let it go now?”

Eric was still glaring at you, but with your words, it was as if he was bathed in iced water.

“Go inside. I’ll sleep here.” Again.

And it was not the first time Eric slept outside your shared room, but at least it was the first time he was the one who swallowed his pride to stop the fight between the both of you.

February 13, 2020, 11:58 in the evening. I fought for you. I fought the world for you, for us. But it took me some time to realize you were long gone beside me. I was the only one left holding on, while you were just waiting for me to realize.

You felt happy. After the last fight about Sangyeon, none of you ever fought again— except the fact that the atmosphere had gone cold. But at least, he was coming with you today, right? At least, he was beside you now, waiting for the clock to strike twelve as you held his hand.

“3.. 2.. 1.. Happy Valentine’s, everyone!” The emcee screams through the mic, the fireworks you’ve gone to love making their way to the sky.

“Eric, Happy Anni—,”

“Let’s stop this,” Eric mumbles, looking down. “Let’s stop this.. y/n,”

Even though a band was playing, the audience was singing along and the other half was hollering, the fireworks were soaring in the sky with a loud noise, it was dead air for you.

“Wh— what? Why, Eric?” You anxiously gripped his hand, swallowing the dry lump on your throat.

“It’s not working for you,” Eric explains, taking a hold of your other hand to try and explain things as nicely and as calmly as possible, not to cause panic on you. “You’ve given me everything, y/n. But… I’m too toxic for you.” He realized that a few days ago, on your last fight— he basically had you in a chokehold. He wanted you to be happy, but he did nothing but do the opposite. He wanted you beside him, but he realized that he was pushing you away. He wanted you to be it, but he did… nothing, while you did everything to be his.

“No, Eric. We can work this out and—,”

“It will never be for you.” And if it means the both of you were walking away for more heartbreak, he was willing to do it first.

Your once favorite band performing in front of you, Eric and his partner sweetly in each other's arms in the view, you scoff as tears formed in your eyes.

Was there a lifetime waiting for us, in a world where I was yours?

It was as if everyone sang for you, sang for your heart that did nothing but break itself to pieces as your eyes stayed at Eric’s form.

The first tear leaves your eyes, but you can’t stop the many leaving it soon afterward. Two years had passed, yet you can’t help still feeling your broken heart still beating for the one that had caused its damage.

But at least, he was happy.

Right?

As long as it worked for both of them.

Eric, despite being in the middle where he can feel most of the presence, most definitely of his partner, was zoning out as your favorite band played in the background. Two years had passed already, and he can’t help the void getting bigger and bigger now that he’s seen you again.

He feels like his ears were blocked out of the continuous sweet singing of the audience and band, and the sweetest voice his partner emitted. Yet one line had struck his heart.

Was it the wrong time, what if we tried giving in a little more?

And he can’t help looking back to where he last saw you.

permanent taglist: @deputyjuyeon @sunlightwoo @90s-belladonna @grassbutneo @cosmiclele @flrtwoo @jaerisdiction @zvae @karsohn @moonieric @softforqiankun @changmin-wrlds @cloudykyu @kurosism @mavericsohn @enhacolor @yunkiwii @allorysayshi @nyangjjunie @joshuaseyes @nycol-ie @fluffyju (to be on my taglist: open!)

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[personasintro]

drunk over sober | ksj drabble

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; getting through the evening in his presence calls for help and that's why you decide to reach for one thing that could possibly get you through it, or maybe it helps you in a whole another way

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst (?), fluff, enemies to lovers au

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.5k+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned by @xxxjkxux​, hope you like this! x

drunk over sober | sober now

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ☕️ | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

What did you do in your past life to deserve this? To deserve such an overly confident, snarky, cocky bastard to be in your life. Why couldn't your friends find a nice human being that is polite, friendly and modest? Not… him.

And the fact everyone is so okay with him acting like he owns everything just makes your blood boil even more. Why the hell did you even agree to come here in the first place? Oh yeah, because one of your friends Jimin, assured you he won't be here. But rather than be mad at Jimin for lying to you because well, your worst enemy – the epitome of evil is right here, you're actually more mad at his presence.

Or maybe because he's enjoying this night to the fullest, even has the decency to lift up his glass of wine at you as he cockily quirks up one of his brows and sends a smirk your way. You gape at him like a fish, features twisting to a deep scowl and a glare. But he looks even more amused at your obvious anger, living for it.

“Y'know, this glaring at him won't do anything.”

The melodic voice resounds next to you, your eyes moving from the devil himself to your friend who's looking at Seokjin amusingly before he looks at you with the same amused eyes. That's great! Even he's enjoying this. Are you the only one being miserable? Maybe you should leave this bar, leave the group of your friends to maybe open a bottle of wine for yourself.

“Don't talk to me,” you grit, trying to appear intimidating but it only makes Jimin chuckle which makes your brow twitch in irritation. “You lied to me. You told me he won't be here tonight.”

“I didn't lie,” Jimin clarifies, “He wasn't supposed to come but decided to tag along at the last minute.”

“Of course, he did,” you roll your eyes. “He likes to make my life miserable.”

Now it's Jimin's turn to roll his eyes, finding the hatred between you two pathetic and childish. You don't even know how it started. Seokjin always made you irritated from the moment you met him. You don't like overly confident men, thinking they can do anything and act however they like. Then he started to make fun of you, throwing snarky remarks your way ever since he noticed the way you clearly wasn't very fond of his presence. And it quickly turns into bickering whenever the two of you are in the same room.

He has already managed to comment on your outfit the second he saw you.

“This is not your grandma's funeral, Y/N.”

How dare he bring your poor grandma into this? You know he did that just to annoy you, that doesn't make it okay.

To be fair, you did tell him something back. “Oh really? Says the man who's wearing his dad's clothes.”

It's certain you made your friends laugh, both of you did. They always have fun whenever it comes down to your bickering. Seokjin didn't even look offended by your comment, just smirked your way as he gulped down more wine. That pisses you even more. He barely shows annoyance or any negative reaction. He always remains calm, amused and cocky. It pisses you off.

And of course, he doesn't look as if he's wearing his dad's clothes. He looks far from it. He might be close to his thirties, but he looks amazing. But surely, he knows that. Everyone knows that – even you. But you'd rather have your arm cut off than to admit it out loud.

“You both are freaking stubborn. Whatever the two of you have going on, you need to sort it out.”

“Sort it out,” you scoff, “As if that's possible.”

“It is,” Jimin says, a grin making its way to his lips. “I feel a certain tension here.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you while you frown, glaring at him for a moment before you let his words sink in and you realize what he's hinting at.

“Oh, fuck no!” you exclaim, wanting nothing else than to punch him for even mentioning that but you know you'd feel awful later. “Y'know what? I won't let him get to me. I'm gonna have fun.” you say lightly, your tone awfully fake but you go along with it as you gulp the rest of your wine.

“Now, I'm gonna get some more.” you inform him, Jimin's mouth is opening.

“That's not what I--”

But you're already gone, making your way towards the bar to order more wine but not before you brush past Seokjin giving him the nastiest glare. However, it only makes him chuckle, turning around for a moment to look at you amusingly as he's met with your back and swaying ass.

You usually make good decisions.

You always think through things because usually, you're a responsible person.

Usually – that's the key word because you're certainly not proving yourself to make good decisions. As much as you'd like to blame it on Suckjin (yes, because he really sucks), it's your own fault for deciding that drinking might be the best idea for how to get through the night. Part of you wanted to leave as soon as you saw his dumb and handsome face but you haven't seen your friends for two weeks and you wouldn't give him that satisfaction to show him how much his presence affects you. Or more like it annoys you.

Who are you kidding. He certainly affects you more than you'd like to admit, if he didn't – you wouldn't keep ordering wine (and probably going bankrupt because you'd save a lot of money by buying a whole bottle of wine, rather than buying one glass every ten to fifteen minutes). However, you're in a bar and it's quite obvious you pay more than you'd if you just bottle an alcohol from a convenience store.

Also, if he wouldn't affect you that much you'd listen to your friends' worries and advice to slow down. You did the right opposite. You feel like you started ordering even more frequently.

But most importantly, if he wasn't affecting you, you certainly wouldn't throw up into the toilet of the ladies restroom.

And the fact you embarrassed yourself in front of (not just your friends) but also everyone in a bar while running to the ladies with a hand over your mouth, to keep the vomit inside until you're free to let it out.

Oh, fuck so fucking embarrassing.

Your knees ache as you hug the toilet, not caring about possible bacterias laying on the toilet seat. If you were sober, you'd actually be so disgusting.

When one of your female friends comes to check on you, you rasp out that you're okay and will be out in a few minutes. You weren't.

You've been here for god knows how long but considering how many women already went to use the restroom, you must've been here for quite some time. Luckily, you stayed quiet and didn't throw up while anyone else was here.

Your stomach is uncomfortably clenched reminding you that you're about to have a wild awakening in the morning full of regret, you know you emptied everything in your stomach. You've a weird sour taste in your mouth, causing you to groan disgustedly at yourself. Once you flush the toilet for like the fifth time by now, you get the courage to walk out and check your appearance in the mirror.

You look awful. You also feel like it.

You rinse your mouth a few times, feeling lucky that no one has decided to come here to see your head in a sink while spitting out the water to get rid of that awful taste of vomits in your mouth. Your make-up is slightly smudged but it's actually not that awful once you wipe your undereyes and the smudged mascara there.

Once you're ready, knowing you've to walk out of those doors to face the others (and by that, you don't just mean your friends but also everyone that witnessed you clearly ready to throw up), you brace yourself and open the door.

You're startled to be met with Seokjin leaning against the wall, standing there just on the opposite side of you as your eyes meet right away. He sighs, awfully similar to sighing in relief, as he takes your appearance and eyes you up and down.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, straightening himself.

“Like shit,” you answer honestly, grabbing the side of your throbbing head. “I think I'm still drunk.” you tell him, stumbling when a woman makes her way towards the restroom and you've to move to let her in since you've been standing right in front of the door.

Seokjin stretches his arms towards you, getting a faint hold of your wrists. HIs brows are furrowed while he stares at you.

“Come on, let's get you home.” he says, taking a few steps closer to you as you glare at him.

“You?” Is the only thing you let out of your mouth, ready to resist but Seokjin holds you close since you seem to have barely any balance.

You might've thrown up everything in your stomach, but your head throbs and you're still very much drunk.

“Yes,” he answers simply, “Everyone else went home. I told them I'd get you home safely.”

You scoff, not believing your friends. So, they just left you here? With him? They know you don't like him! The hell, you hate him! They know all of it and yet, they left you here with him.

Little do you know, Seokjin promised to take care of you. He was met with a few skeptical stares from your friends but Jimin assured them it's okay. The smirk Jimin gave Seokjin just as he was walking out of the bar didn't go unnoticed by him.

And here he is. Has been waiting for half an hour for you. He did get worried, wondering if you hadn't passed out on the floor or something and had this urge to just walk into the ladies restroom, knowing that might've got him kicked out of this bar.

Luckily, you walked out of there before he really decided to do it.

As much as you hate Seokjin, and doing a stupid decision, you know the smartest option for you is to just go with him. It's dangerous to go alone and even though you want to prove to him you don't need him or his help, you kind of do and it definitely helps to get you home safely, just like he promised to you and his friends.

So you huff under your breath, brushing past him but saying nothing in return but you know he's right behind you, feeling his presence following you out of a bar.

“Oh shit, I haven't paid for my drinks.” you exclaim once you make it outside.

Thank god, no one stared at you while walking out of a bar. You already feel embarrassed as it is.

“I took care of it,” Seokjin tells you, phone attached to his ear as he ignores your suspicious eyes and calls a cab for the two of you.

You groan, feeling your legs getting weak so you sit on a curb, hugging your arms as you feel a chilly breeze on your exposed arms.

After he makes the call, hanging up with a polite “Thank you, we'll be waiting”, he's joining you and sitting beside you as you eye him suspiciously again.

He probably feels your eyes on him, but he stares ahead watching cars passing by.

“Why would you pay for me?” you ask, voice drowsy as you keep your tired eyes on him.

He turns his head to you, staring at you for a moment as he lets out a chuckle. “I expect you to pay me back. I'm no charity.” he scoffs causing you to scoff back.

“Don't worry,” you murmur, feeling angry for some reason even though of course, you'd pay him back. You wouldn't let him pay for such an expensive wine, or even if it was a cheap one, just so he could use it one day against you. You don't need his money.

But deep down, you're glad he took care of it so you could just walk out of the bar and not spend any longer in it than necessarily. What you're angry about is the way he reacted. And here you thought he's being weird by the whole taking care of you thing. He's still the same idiot.

Your thoughts are cut off by him taking off his suit and throwing it over your small figure. You instantly feel the heat from it, knowing it's his body that made it warm. You open your mouth, staring at him surprisingly as he chuckles at your reaction.

“Well, don't look at me so surprised.”

“I am surprised,” you point out, “Thanks though.”

“What? I didn't hear you?”

You look at him again, opening your mouth but once you see the corner of his mouth twitching, you know he heard you and is just making you say it again.

“Your mistake.” you huff.

You don't know for how long you sit there waiting for the cab, but you feel yourself getting more and more tired, looking for a place to lean your head against which happens to be Seokjin's shoulder. You're too out of it to check out his reaction or realize what you just did.

His shoulder feels nice. The one you kept making fun of him, actually you made fun of both of his shoulders. Suddenly, you start feeling guilty for it and you blame you being drunk for it because you're already opening your mouth.

“I'm sorry for making fun of your shoulders,” you mutter, yawning sleepily. “They feel nice.”

Seokjin laughs, actually it's something between a laugh and a chuckle but he finds your confession and apology funny nevertheless.

“I know you secretly love them.” he teases you, causing you to groan in response. Oh god, you're so out of it.

“I hate you secretly.” you inform him, causing him to snicker.

“It's not that big of a secret.” he points out, making you chuckle for some reason. He's right. It's quite obvious.

“You hate me too, don't make me feel guilty.”

“I don't hate you,” he tells you, sounding serious for a second before he chuckles. “You just can't take some teasing.”

You lift your head up quickly, groaning when you feel it spin as your vision gets blurry. You glare at Seokjin, seeing double – two Seokjins – but you glare at him nevertheless.

“Teasing?” you exclaim, “That's not teasing! That's pissing me off and you know it.” you snap but lay your head back when it starts to hurt even more. He lets you, scoffing a little.

And he stays quiet, letting the distant sounds of cars and people chatting that walk past you be the only sound between you two. You're on a verge of actually falling asleep, closing your eyes for the first time since fighting the urge to close them since you laid your head on Seokjin's shoulder.

But yet again, Seokjin manages to open his mouth again and for some reason, you're not as annoyed as you'd normally be.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

It's so random, you don't get why he's asking you this but you're also very drunk to put too much thought into it.

You let his question linger in the air and in your mind, pursing your lips slightly in a silent thought before you come up with a quite sober answer. “I think everyone is in your life for a reason.”

“Oh, so I'm in your life for a reason.” he teases you and if you looked up at him, you'd see him wiggling his brows.

“Yeah, to piss me off apparently.” you tell him, getting to hear a breathy laugh from him.

“You piss me off too,” he says, sounding both amusing and accusing at the same time. Maybe even offended too. “But I like you.” he admits.

It's like a slap to your face and thanks to your drunkenness, it takes a while to fully understand his words but once you do, you whip your head in his direction while looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You what?”

“Come on, isn't it obvious?” he laughs almost bitterly, but keeps his tone light and even when he looks at you with his dark brown eyes, you see nothing but softness in them.

Okay, you're really drunk.

“Do you think I'd take care of you, borrowed you my suit to keep you warm and waited in front of the restroom for half an hour just because I hate you?”

You're speechless, not fully realizing that Kim Seokjin, the Kim Seokjin that makes fun of you whenever you're around, just confessed that he doesn't hate you. And admitted verbally and loudly what he's done for you so far. Even though you didn't ask for it, you know deep down you appreciate it.

“I don't understand…” you mumble, “What about all the teasing and annoying me?”

“It's just teasing, it's not my fault you can't take a joke.” he snorts, causing you to send him a glare. It's just a small confirmation that yes, he still acts like a dick but the difference is, that you're not overly mad over it and don't want to slap his handsome face.

“You and I have a different concept of a joke,” you scoff, “I don't like those jokes.”

“Alright, no more teasing and jokes,” he says, causing you to raise your brows at him lazily. You don't believe him. “Don't look at me like that, I'm serious. And just a reminder, you haven't been going easy on me too. I'm just lucky I have thick skin and can take a joke.”

You want to have some smartass response, to say something back about how he's making it seem like you're some kind of a prude that can't joke around, because you can. You're quite a fun person to be around. He just doesn't know that side of you because you just straightass go into an attack mode whenever he is around.

And as your drunk mind thinks about it, you do feel an obvious guilt slowly building but you're too drunk to fully tell him what you think. But you try your best, muttering the first thing that comes to your mind.

“I'm sorry to joke about your shoulders,” you almost whisper, pouting. “I like them. They're comfy. At least this left is.”

That's right, you've been leaning on his left shoulder only.

Seokjin snorts at that before he erupts laughing, causing you to cringe at the loud sound close to your ear but you find yourself smiling. He catches the sight of your smile, his laugh slowly dying as he keeps his lips stretched into a similar one.

“I can assure you my right shoulder is just as comfortable,” he remarks, causing you to snort as you nod at him. “I don't know what's up with you and my shoulders. You said far more mean things about my own personality than my appearance.”

You cringe at that, feeling the guilt even more. Perhaps it's the tone in his voice that makes you think that you making fun of his personality rather than appearance somehow affected him too.

“I'm sorry,” you murmur, hiding your face back in his shoulder once he looks at you, chuckling as you not so sneakily hide your shy face. “You said mean things to me too.”

“I'm sorry,” he says back, louder and more confident than when you said it. “I think we both have something to feel guilty about.”

You just nod, muttering something about how long it's taking for the cab to arrive. Seokjin is not sure if you did it to change the topic purposely, or you're just so drunk that you mind drifts elsewhere. Nevertheless, he coaxes you to stand up as he helps you, not minding the way your body practically stumbles into his in the middle of it. He has a tight grip on you, tucking a few restless strands of your hair behind your ear. Yeah, he commented that too. Something about how having your hair in a bun makes you look like you're in a job meeting rather than hanging out with your friends in a bar.

He cringes at that, having the need to apologize for that but you seem distracted by something else and that something else happens to be his lips. You're shameless, maybe you don't realize that you're staring and that he obviously sees you… but you just keep staring.

“I'm sure I made fun of your lips too.” you drunkenly murmur, causing Seokjin to breathe out a chuckle.

“You did.” he confirms your suspicion, causing you to sigh.

“I like them.” you tell him honestly, eyes lazily closing and smile stretching to the same lazy and drunk smile. And you bluntly reach towards them, your point finger tracing the bottom lip.

Seokjin feels the tip of his ears heating up, wondering how it must look like to someone that just walks by. You're in front of a bar with you drunk while tracing his lips as if it's the most normal and common thing ever.

“You know,” Seokjin starts, your finger no longer in front of his mouth. “I think I prefer you drunk over sober.”

That makes you snort, chuckling slightly as you lean towards him and bump your forehead into his chest. Wow, it's hard. You stay like that, trying to ignore the throb in your head.

“I think I prefer you when I'm drunk than when I'm sober.” you admit, causing him to laugh, hands respectfully on your back as you keep swaying slightly.

Suddenly, you've this urge to look at him because god knows if you'll ever have that opportunity. So you do, finding him already looking at you.

“But I wish you were sober now, though.” he admits too, your brows furrowing in a confusion for a moment.

“Why?”

“So I could kiss you.” he bluntly responds, your eyes widening and for a moment, you feel like you sobered up. That's not true, though. You just feel like it.

“You--you want to kiss… me?” you point at yourself, wondering if this is some kind of sick joke of his, so he can laugh about it later.

But he looks honest, staring at you with a deep glance. It makes you swallow dryly.

“Yeah,” he nods, “But you're drunk. And I don't want to take advantage of that.”

You stare at him cutely, your lips pouting without you even realizing and your pupils are big and waiting, causing him to grab your face gently. He traces his thumb over your lips, similar to what you did just a few minutes ago while tracing his own plush lips.

You called him Kylie Jenner look-alike if you remember correctly. God, you were such a bitch.

You like his lips.

“I'm not that drunk,” you stupidly protest, causing Seokjin's brows to raise in shock from your sudden interest in him kissing you. But he quickly shakes himself out of it and chuckles at your eagerness.

“How about a compromise?” he asks, catching your interest as you nod without thinking of it.

It's until he leans towards you, face just a few inches from yours. You can feel the heat coming off his breath, warming your face while your heart seems to be the only thing sober and awake.

His lips are so close, he is so close. You can smell his incredible and expensive cologne making you almost whimper in his direction but before he can take another inch closer to you, you realize something and panic.

“Wait, wait!” you exclaim, catching him off guard as he stares at you surprised while pulling away slightly, giving you some space as your hand is already on your mouth.

Are you about to throw up? Oh fuck, he'd be so embarrassed if you throw up at the idea of him kissing you.

“I threw up!” you inform him which makes him snort because he obviously knows that.

He heard weird noises that undoubtedly came from you while he was waiting for you.

But he doesn't tell you that to not make you embarrassed. He's not that big of a dick, even if you think he maybe is.

“But I rinsed my mouth!” you quickly jump to say, not wanting him to think like you stink or something. You made sure your mouth doesn't smell like vomits. The thought of him kissing you while you threw up just twenty minutes ago makes you want to throw up again. In your defense, you did rinse your mouth a lot and you no longer can smell or taste vomits in your mouth.

He chuckles, eyes scrunched as he inches closer to you and you almost protest (because just in case, you'd die of embarrassment) but you're taken aback when his lips find your forehead instead of your lips. He gives you a soft kiss there, smiling down at you as you gape at him with an open mouth.

This is the compromise he talked about, but you're too drunk to realize that.

“Come on, the cab is here.” he says, taking your hand in his as he leads you to a cab.

Once you both sit there, you give the cab driver your address before you allow yourself to finally relax and feel something soft under your butt rather than a hard pavement. You're not too shy to scoot closer to Seokjin, even though you've been glued to him from the moment you made it into the cab. You let your head rest over his right shoulder this time, commenting that it's comfortable too that makes him laugh.

It's the last thing he hears from you because he soon realizes you fell asleep, cuddling up to him. He's not sure if he'll be able to wake you up once you make it to your apartment building and he has no plans trying to get into your purse, so he sighs and tells the driver to drive you to his apartment instead. It's not far from yours anyway and the cab driver is more than happy to charge him for it.

But he doesn't care about money. If he did, he wouldn't pay that much money over the wine you drank and threw up all of it in the same day.

He wasn't joking when he said he wants you to pay back, but maybe now, he'll live without you paying him back. He can think of it as if it's redemption by burying the hatchet.

And as he glances at your peaceful sleeping figure that still is very much glued to his warm body, he knows it might be just worth it.

He just hopes you won't kill him in the morning once you find out you're at his place. And maybe, just maybe, he hopes a lot that you'll remember everything in the morning.

#networkbangtan #ficswithluv #bts smut #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff #seokjin x reader #bts enemies to lovers #seokjin scenario #seokjin fanfic #personasintro

[clairecrive]

Hello beautiful person! Do you take requests which ask you to write a second chapter for your writings? If you do, may I ask a second chapter for "Rare"? And if you don't could you please let me know so I can be careful for another time when I ask a request?

I hope this is not something that disturbes or irritates you. I love your writing, it is beautiful and sometimes I read your pieces over and over again. 😁

Thanks for blessing us with your writing. Have a nice day.💕

A/n: First of all anon, thank you so very much for your sweet words! They mean the world to me <3 Also, your request could never irritate me! I love them and I love the fact that you consider me half a decent writer enough to send me your thoughts <3 I'm sorry it took me so long to get around this but I hope you like this and are still around to read it x

I've decided to pair it with a request for juicy time with Eddie. there's no actual smut but it's suggestive let's say.

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff,

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @for-bebbanburg, @crazyclownchick ( fill in this form to be added to my taglist)

Part 1

TOM HARDY MASTERLIST

You weren't exactly new to heartbreak. You had been a teenager after all but your experience with adult relationships had not been that good either.

You knew that you'd be over Eddie even if it may take you some time. It's true that you had only been dating for a few months but you had really grown attached to him. It was one of the things you hated about yourself: the way you got attached way too soon, way too much.

Especially, in this case, seeing as Eddie hadn't been 100% in it in the beginning you had hoped that the more time you'd spend together, he'd see that you weren't so bad and that he'd grow to care for you. At least a little bit.

Turns out you were wrong.

As much as you hated being wrong, the thing that hurt you the most was that despite your best efforts, Eddie still didn't think you were enough for him. And how could you be when the benchmark was perfect Anne?

You stood no chance. You had been a fool for even trying. And now you were experiencing the burn for your foolishness.

This had happened often enough that you had developed a routine for dealing with heartbreak:

1) crying your heart out and indulging your sadness with whatever helped (mostly comfort food and Friends)

2) enough with indulging, it was time to pick yourself up. No more overeating although you still allowed yourself to cry if you felt like it

3) "I don't need him anyway" phase where you'd make a mental list of how your life was before and after whoever you had broken up with to remind you that they weren't as important as you made them out to be

4)"put yourself out there again" phase where you started going out again with the intention of meeting new people or simply having a good time.

As of this time, you were in phase 3. You noticed that there were some of Eddie's things littering around your apartment. So, you picked up a box and collected them with the intention of returning them to him, effectively closing this chapter. As you did, you made that aforementioned list. This time, with the added reason for your break up, it was a bit easier to remind you why breaking up had been the right decision.

When your hands closed on your favourite hoodie of his though, you couldn't help the pang in your heart as a flood of memories hit you.

You and Eddie doing a Friends marathon every Friday night.

Eddie giving this hoodie when you were sick because he knew how much you liked it.

Eddie taking the hoodie off for a whole other reason almost ripping it...

No.

Shaking your head, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Enough of that. It was over.

It was only a week later that you finally got the time to come around Eddie's apartment. Sure, you could have called him, he could have come himself to pick them up or you could have dropped them at his job but that would have required you to call him. And recalling how that went last time you tried to reach him you decided you'd spare yourself the humiliation of him not ghosting you again.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and knocked on his door.

"Y/n." You were met with a dishevelled Eddie.

He looked like shit but what's new with him. He also looked very surprised to see you at his door and you also couldn't blame it for that. You would have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.

"Hi, Eddie," you hated your treacherous voice that wobbled when you spoke. Clearing your voice, you tried again.

"Sorry to come here unannounced. I've found some of your stuff in my apartment and I thought you'd like to have them back." You explained as you handed him the box, his eyes taking it in for the first time.

"Oh," he paused as he considered your words. Was that disappointment in his voice? "Thank you, y/n. You shouldn't have." He smiled weakly as he took the box from you, your fingers touching briefly.

"It's not a problem, Eddie. I was just passing by anyway." You and Eddie actually lived far from each other. The truth is that there was no reason for you to be in this part of town if it wasn't for him. Eddie knew that but he was kind enough not to point that out.

He just nodded, accepting your words as he held the box close to his chest.

You awkwardly stared at each other for a while, you didn't know what to say but neither of you wanted to end this exchange quite yet. When you felt that you had been standing like a fool in front of your ex's door, you went to leave but Eddie beat you to it.

"So how have you been?" Your first reaction was to scoff at this attempt of small talk. Neither of you was very good at it. And truthfully, it was rich coming from someone who had not made any effort to keep in contact with you even before your breakup.

The scroll of your shoulders was the only answer Eddie got. You weren't in the mood to pretend nor did you want him to know how you were still suffering for him.

"I should ask that to you." You reverted the question to him. He really didn't look well.

"yeah, it's been a rough couple of weeks," he confessed scratching the back of his head.

"That, I don't find it hard to believe," you hummed as your eyes took him in, really took him in since you knocked at his door. You could also see behind him that his apartment was a mess.

"Yeah, don't have to worry about me though. I'm fine."

"Of course." You nodded at his dismissal, remembering harshly the situation you were in."Well, I'm going to go now. Take care." Cold but still polite you turn around, ready to put this -Eddie and this exchange- behind you.

"Y/n, wait!" he called when you were about to climb down the staircase. "Do you want to have a drink or something?" Stay for a while? he meant but didn't dare to say.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Eddie." You called over your shoulder, hand still on the railing.

"Please, I owe you an explanation." You didn't know if it was the desperate note in his voice or the fact that he really looked like shit but you turned around almost convinced.

"Don't you think it's too late for that, Eddie?"

"Maybe it won't change anything between us but you deserve to know." You knew Eddie and you knew how much he cared about transparency and honesty. This may not mean that you were going to get back together but he was right, you deserved an explanation.

"Okay," you agreed as you walked back and then into his apartment. Eddie closed the door behind him and set the box he was still holding down behind the coat hanger.

The sneak peek you had before was definitely right: Eddie's apartment was even messier than usual.

"Why does it look like a tornado hit your home?" You couldnìt help but point out. You knew Eddie wasn't that bothered by tidiness but this too much even by his standards.

"That would be my fault," a new voice answered you.

At first, you didn't register the difference in tone or accent even though you should have had because Eddieìs voice wasnìt that low or raspy. But then a black tendril entered your vision field catching your attention making you turning your head to better inspect it.

What.the.fuck??

"Eddie?" You asked perplexed, eyes fixed on this thing? even if you were addressing Eddie.

"Y/n meet Venom, Venom meet y/n." He gestured awkwardly with his hands.

"It's so nice to meet you, Eddie's always thinking about you, you know? It's a bit annoying." this time the voice didn't come from a tendril but a face. A fucking alien face with long sharp teeth and wide white eyes.

His words went straight over your head. How the fuck was this true? What were you even seeing? Did this thing come from Eddie's body??

"Fuck, I know I'm heartbroken but now I'm even seeing things?"

"Y/n," Eddie tried to get your attention. You thought you had only thought that but apparently, you had spoken the words. "You're not seeing things, this is part of the explanation I owe you."

"I think it's better if you sit," he said motioning to his couch when you did nothing but stare at Venom. Prompting by Eddie though, you sat down and listened as he spoke.

He told you everything. About Carton Drake about his project with aliens, about Venom and their rather troubled relationship. He even explained how Anne had got involved and how she and Danny had helped him.

It was definitely a lot to take in. But somehow, the thought that he could be lying to you never crossed your mind. The proof was right in front of you, wasn't it? Venom, as he had introduced himself, stood next to Eddie while he spoke. It had never spoken again and you were inwardly thankful for that. That he was giving you space to digest all of this.

"Why didn't you tell me when you came around that day, Eddie?" You asked once you thought you had wrapped your head around it.

"I didn't want you to drag you into this mess," he said with a shrug, head cast down he didn't meet your eyes.

You didn't know how you felt about all of this yet but you nodded anyway. Well, there was nothing you could do anymore, could you? He had already taken care of everything on his own and it wasn't like you had any right to worry about him anymore.

"Thank you for explaining, Eddie. I appreciate your honesty." Did this change anything for you?

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough of if Anne meant more to me than you did. That's not true but I didn't know how to tell you that without telling you what was happening." He nervously fiddled with his fingers without meeting your eyes.

You could see his point now that you knew what happened. Still, it hurt you that he decided to just keep you out of it without a word. He could have at least told you that something was going on, that he didn't or couldn't tell you anything - not right now. You would have understood and given him space. Did he really act like this to keep you safe or was it a way to dismiss you?

"I don't know if this changes things, Eddie. You still turned up to her when a major life-threatening event happened. I think this tells me everything that I need to know." You point out after a while, eyes fixed on the end of your shoes.

"She has been involved from the moment we broke up, Y/n. Hell, this was the reason we broke up in the first place." Eddie's head snapped up at your words. He looked surprised at your words like he couldn't believe that you thought Anne's involvement had been something he had actively sought out.

"That may as well be true, Eddie but still, you didn't tell me even after everything settled down. If I hadn't come around to give you your stuff I still would be none the wiser."

"I was afraid, y/n. How could I come back to you after how much I had hurt you? 'Sorry if I went m.i.a. for a while, I was infected with a parasite who knows permanently with me?' Come on, y/n, I wouldn't take me back either." Now upset, Eddie started to gesticulate frantically to prove his point. His eyes flickered between yours, he leaned toward you, his hands a touch away from yours as if he wanted to touch you but was preventing himself from doing so.

"I'm not saying I would have believed you straight away but still- aliens are way better than self-loathing you know?" You scoff at him- why was he so upset? He wasn't the one who had been beating himself up since that fight for being a worthless piece of shit, was he?

"I know I've never done a good job at showing you but I do care about you. Deeply." Almost as if he couldn't bear to not be touching you any longer, Eddie now reached for your hands. His hold on them tightening as he spoke the words.

You looked at him for a moment. Aside from that fight, your relationship with him had been good. The start wasn't promising, seeing as he was still taken by Anne but Eddie had treated you good. He was attentive and caring in his own way. Looking back to it now, you realized that the period where you started feeling him pulling back from you was the time when this whole alien thing had started.

But now you had settled this, right? So, could this mean...

"If I give you one more chance to show you," you spoke tentatively, enthralled by the twinkle in his eyes, "do you promise me to be fully transparent with me this time around?"

"What? Why would you do that?" He looked shocked but his eyes were hopeful.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it, Eddie?" You challenged him, arching an eyebrow.

"Like hell I am." He scoffed, a smile on his lips. "Nono, of course I do. I swear, y/n. You'll never feel like you don't matter to me again."

"Good." You gave him a small smile at the gobsmacked expression on his face. Oh, Eddie...

He does nothing but stares at you for a while. Like he hadn't seen you in a while and now that you were in front of him, he wanted to commit to his memory every little detail of your face.

"So," you said after a while, "do you plan to stare at me or would you like to get a head start on your promise?" you provoke him with a suggestive tone.

Eddie's mouth fell a little at that, Venom said something to him but you didn't understand him. Shaking his head, Eddie smirks at you.

"I would like nothing more." And with that, Eddie's lips are on yours making up for the lost time.

#eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #eddie brock one shot #eddie brock imagines #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock angst #eddie brock smut #venom #marvel #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagines #eddie brock fanfiction #eddie brock ff

[visforvengeance]

I saw stars // Rafe Cameron

Requested by: mm no one :)

Notes: i really love rafe and he just needs help. no hate against sarah. she's one of my faves. also i don't remember what happened to their mom so. i based this on that one part in nda by billie eilish that's all lmao

Warnings: like i tried my shot at angst, cursing, teeny tiny bit of manipulation, fighting (between rafe and ward), drug abuse (mentioned). death of a parent (mentioned), there's no spoilers here babes, I actually proofread this time. go me!!

Song

Third-person POV

Rafe paced in his room as his girlfriend sat on his bed. He couldn’t form one coherent thought but his mind was racing. The girl’s voice drowned out in the background. God, she was so worried. He’d called her here, saying it was urgent. But, he’s yet to say what was wrong. She got up and stood in front of him, he realized that she was there and looked up at her. “Baby, what’s wrong?” She pleaded for him to tell her something.

Lately, Rafe had gotten worse. The more Sarah hung out with the pogues, the more their father tried to reel her back in, the less Ward paid attention to how much his son needed him. Rafe fell deeper into his rabbit hole, but the only thing that was holding him afloat was his girlfriend. But even then, he was pulling her in with him too. “Rafe, please tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me!” She was so scared. Not of him but for him. She’d watch her boyfriend of 2 years get more unstable with each passing day.

Rafe couldn’t pinpoint which issue he should tell her about, there were so many. Sarah is being a bitch and hanging around the pogues JUST to spite their dad, Ward is fucking falling for it, Rose is being Rose, he’s not ok and no one fucking notices. “Nothing is wrong.” He couldn’t tell her. He had too much shit going on with his family and he couldn’t drag her into it. But, she wasn’t going to let him slide this time. She could see that everything was wrong. The drug abuse, the mental health decline, the lack of attention from his parents. It was breaking him and she’s the only one who seems to give a shit. So why won’t he let her in?

“I call bullshit, Rafe. Please talk to me.” He laughed, manically. “You want to know what’s wrong, babe? Let me tell you. Let’s start with the fact that I have a conniving little bitch of a sister who toys with my father. And a dad who I look up to that won’t give me the slightest bit of attention. Um, the pogues like to insert themselves in everything we do. I just can’t fucking win. So, what’s the point, y’know?” He was crying, although he didn’t realize it. His shedding tears turned to full-on sobbing as his head rested in the crook of his girlfriend’s neck. “Rafe..” she ran her hand through his hair.

He was just a little boy who needed love. She couldn’t imagine having to deal with the shit he does. She was tired for him. The more it sunk in, the angrier she got. She saw red at this point. “Is your dad here?” She whispered to him. He nodded and looked up at her with those pretty little eyes. “Why?” “He needs to get his head out of his ass and realize that everything isn’t about Sarah. He’s completely neglected you and Wheezie trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

He tried to stop her but his pleas were being ignored. She spotted Ward in his study and pulled Rafe in and closed the door behind him. “We need to have a little talk.” Ward tried to politely shut her down and get her to leave but she wasn’t having that. “No, you listen to me. Do you realize that other people exist other than Sarah? Like for instance, your other two kids? You’re so far up her ass that you can’t see that they actually need you, unlike her who is doing just fine with her found family.” The two men stood there, shocked as she tore into Ward.

“Your son adores you and all you do is treat him like some stepchild that you don’t want. Do you know how he deals with his pain? Drugs. He’s getting worse and you just watch. You berated him for his actions without even questioning why he does what he does.” Ward tried to defend himself against the younger girl. “Rafe knows that I love him, don’t you, son?” He only called him that to try and manipulate Rafe into doing what he wants.

“No, dad. I don’t. I really fucking don’t. You know, ever since mom died you just stop acting like you cared. I tried so hard to be the son you always wanted and it never fucking worked.” Ward stood there. The rage was evident in his eyes as he stared at Rafe. The younger Cameron was pouring his heart out to him and instead of showing the least bit of sympathy, he was just angry.

He lunged at Rafe, which caught him off guard. As Ward’s fist collided with his face, blood flew from it and onto the ground. Y/N didn’t know what to do as the two men fought. She was terrified for Rafe. The shuffling and her scream were all you could hear outside of the door. Rafe was on top and giving Ward a run for his money. “Rafe, please stop! We’ve made our point, you’re going to kill him!” He realized that his father was no longer fighting back and stopped.

Before they left, he stopped to say something. “Now I really see what you are. You’re just a sad little man, Ward. You only care about this stupid fucking treasure that you killed a man for. And all I ever did was try and help, but it never worked. So, fuck you. I’m done.”

He stormed out of his office with bloody clothing and a bloody nose. Now, they’re in Rafe’s bathroom. Y/N trying to clean his wounds. “Are you okay?” The concern was all over her face. She felt bad. Maybe she shouldn’t have inserted herself in their business. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone in there,” she said as he winced at the sensation on his lip.

“No, it’s fine. If anything, you helped. You’ve made me realize that I don’t have to deal with this shit. Will you come with me? We could leave here and forget all of this, it can just be us together.” Y/N thought about it. When she turned 18, all of her family had left. But she stayed for Rafe. So why shouldn’t they just leave?

“Of course I’ll leave with you. Tonight, right now. We pack our shit and go. You remember that trip to our vacation home in Texas? We could go there. It’s basically vacant now. What do ya say?” She smiled cheekily at him. His lips latched onto hers as they shared a passionate kiss. They loaded his things into the truck her dad had given her and they left without turning back. The lights of the Cameron home blurred in the distance and they drove off.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #sarah cameron #ward cameron #jj maybank #pope heyward #john b routledge #kiara carrera #topper thornton #drew starkey

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him.  But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #writing blog #writing requests #askbox #ask response #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo

[hotdamnhunnam]

I Wanna Be Your Slave

A/N: Here’s the next requested fic from my Dirty Little Secret – Super Kinky List! In which you and Jax are locked in a cellar and he ties you to a whipping post and whips your ass lol. Master/slave roleplay but in this fic (unlike some of my other Kinkfest fics...) Jax is actually a good guy not an absolute asshole. Title is inspired by the Måneskin song at the below link! **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, light choking, degradation, dom!Jax, bondage, master/slave kink, spanking, whipping Request: This Dirty Little Secret request (anon)

Word Count: ~3.8k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂 ALSO note that this fic is just straight up shitty – I wrote most of it years ago without giving a fuck and am not bothering with improving the quality, I sort of used to rhyme back then but not consistently so it’s a shitshow really, I’m just shoving Jax into the setup for this fic with zero context literally, and I realize that the kinks in this fic are totally not mainstream and super filthy, so for once it’s really refreshing that I’m not gonna be sitting around hoping that people will shower my writing with praises or that this fic will explode in popularity 🙃

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

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

You're trapped in a cellar. 

With Jax Fucking Teller.

There's a whole fucking story behind how the two of you got here—some shit involving stolen guns, some rival gang that hates the Sons, your father being all politically significant and powerful enough that you're now being held as ransom—and honestly you should be crippled with fear. But this tall blonde bastard is so fucking handsome. You've been crushing on him for years. And nothing else matters right now when you're so fucking horny for him that you're damn near to tears.

He looks and smells goddamn divine. You know that's not the kind of thought that should be running through your mind. Not here, stricken with fear for your safety. It's crazy. But losing yourself in desire for Jax just feels... fucking unreal. So damn good. Better than it should. It's comforting, or something. Dangerously comforting. In his presence, you don't even care if it doesn't make sense.

Ever since you got stuck in this mess, you've been clinging to him in the darkness. Clutching his flannel-clad arms in a tight grasp which quickly turns into a desperate caress. Through the cloth you can feel the incredible bulge of his biceps and God it's just...

"It's okay, darlin'," he says. Shifts to give you the comfort you crave as you bury your face in his broad sculpted chest. Presence warming and calming. Even after what's happened this morning, you somehow feel safe in the arms of the crown prince of Charming. It's totally fucked to be honest. "Hey, I'll get us out of this. Promise."

The silent answer in your head is beyond shameless. But here with your cheek pressed against his firm pecs... shuddering in bliss as you breathe in his mouthwatering manly essence... flooding between your legs, 'cause he is pure fucking sex... you could honestly just live and die in this man's godlike presence. You bite your tongue to fight the shit you really want to say, keeping it back. Please don't, Jax... don't get us out of this—I want to stay...

Neither of you has any clue yet that you're bound to serve Jax Teller in this cellar as his filthy little slave today.

With one hand still gripping his strong upper arm you reach up with the other, wrapping it over his leather-bound shoulder, clasping at the back of his neck and clinging to his strong sturdy body like ivy to brick. You can feel a faint layer of sweat on his neck that you're instantly dying to lick.

Your senses are reeling. Here, with him as you give voice to a wild irrational fear, you can't deny that dread isn't the only thing you're feeling. You'll take life-threatening danger if it comes with the reward of you and Jax fucking. "... are they gonna sell us as sex slaves or something?"

The hottest sound you've ever heard bursts softly from his throat. It's low and quiet, caught between a breathy laugh and breathless groan. You bite down on your lip then to stifle your own slutty moan. His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can feel the heat burning beneath, and from the way his tongue traces along the edges of his teeth, you can tell the answer to your question is no.

That's not the answer you want, though. It's precious that Jax doesn't already know. Some part of him probably does but hell if it won't take a little more for him to let it show.

You're gonna give him more than just a little more.

With a bat of your lashes, your flirtiest dirtiest smile flashes; you drop to your knees before him like a whore.

"Oh f—" he mutter, too shocked to even utter the full curse, sapphire eyes wide in wonder, "what are..."

"Practice," you purr as you lick your lips, eager hands framing his hips. "If I'm gonna be a sex slave then I think I should practice performing... service..."

Jax sucks in a sharp hiss as you bury your face in the crotch of his jeans, massaging his dick through the denim with your doting mouth till he's harder than he's ever been.

"Practice makes... perfect, doesn't it?" you say as you savor the smell and the feel of his meat. Good enough to eat. "Though you already are, Jax. Every inch of you is perfect. That's a hard fucking fact."

Jax throws his head back, huge cock throbbing with a luscious twitch. "Son of a bitch..."

"Mmm, make me your bitch, Jax. Please. I wanna be your slave. Serve you in every way. It's what the slut inside me needs... and craves..." you shamelessly confess as your hands set to work on his fly to unleash the glory of Jax Teller. "Nothing else even matters today. We're here now all alone together, in this shady little cellar..."

When his cock springs free you could swear that this piece of meat is your entire life's purpose. All set to be worshiped and serviced, because his delicious existence demands and deserves it. He's so. Fucking. Perfect.

You gaze up at his gorgeous face as you melt in his presence, and finish your sentence. "... so let's make it fucking worth it."

*************** 

The first order you take from Jax Teller, as he finally falls into his role as your master right here in this cellar... is to get your filthy hands off of his dick. You are not to touch it till you've fucking earned it. Like a dog, like the bitch that you are, he tells you to just sit. 

To stay down on your knees and to not move an inch, not even turn your head as he strides toward the far wall behind you, brutally keeping his beautiful self beyond your field of vision for a minute. 

You bite your lip, listening to the footsteps and movements that he won't let you witness. Rustling noises. You hope that he's stripping off his stupid clothes. That when you see him next, he'll be towering over you gorgeously naked.

And God yes, he is, when he returns at last to stand before his bitch. You groan in sheer bliss as your awestruck eyes try to take in every last flawless inch of his smooth, glowing skin. There is just... too much perfection. You couldn't even process the divine glory of Jax in a whole damn lifetime, let alone one split second.

Hypnotized though you are by him, your gaze then shifts to notice what he's holding, and... holy shit. Apparently he hadn't gone to the far wall just to undress. 

He had taken stock of the supplies and other items stored down in this shady cellar and he has returned bearing gifts: a coil of rope, long and thick, and a wicked-looking leather whip.

"Like what you see, huh?" he taunts, no doubt referring to both his new toys and his nude body, especially his dick. "Kinky little bitch. Now get up and strip."

"Yes, Master," you blurt out, rising to your feet, hastening to obey his order.

"Bad slave. You are not to speak until I say you can," Jax commands, taking a deliberate step toward you. With both rope and whip clutched in one fist, he reaches to cup your chin with his other hand. "Do you fucking understand?"

Fighting your burning urge to scream yes sir, somehow you keep your lips sealed and just nod your head.

Jax's blazing blue gaze devours your face as his fingers descend to frame your jawbone, then to close around your throat. "That's a good slut. Keep that dirty mouth shut. Or else you're gonna suffer some serious punishment."

Fuck—hearing him talk like this, while he strangles your neck in his dominant fist, is too much. You've become a trembling mess beneath his touch.

"Mmm, look at you shaking. Desperate piece of shit. I'm starting to think that maybe punishment…" he whispers in your ear as he tightens his grip around your neck, "...is what you fucking want."

Oh God, your inner voice grunts, struggling not to say it aloud. In the most painfully perfect way, the fact that he's choking you now actually makes it easier to stay silent.

His husky growl and twisted words are sending waves of pleasure through your body, hitting all the spots you never knew you had and soaking up your cunt.

"Yeah, you're begging for it. Already ignoring your master's orders. Disobedient bitch," he scoffs, shoving you up against a nearby wall, his every movement rough and quick. "Didn't I tell you to strip?"

Before you can even manage to nod at him, still just staring, Jax's hand drops from your neck down to the fabric of the fancy buttoned cardigan you're wearing. Your daddy is rich, so you typically dress like a spoiled little bitch.

"Need me to show you how to do it? You that fucking stupid?" he sneers, suddenly yanking it off you with just a few effortless jerks of his wrist. "Now take off the rest. And then go stand against that beam. Hands on the wood, head down, with your ass facing me."

Jax steps away, sharp blue glare dark and daunting as he watches his slave scurry to obey. In a matter of seconds, your clothes and shoes have been flung off, and you practically throw yourself against the wooden beam, grabbing the jagged surface desperately, wincing as the splinters graze your fingers. Even that sharp little sting feels good, because this is what Jax wanted.

You keep your head bent low, bowed submissively per your master's orders, breathing shallow as you feel his presence coming toward you from behind, steady and slow. A gasp slips past your throat when you feel his calloused hands upon your wrists, binding your hands to the beam with the thick, heavy rope. The knots securing you in place are strong and tight, expertly tied. This must not be his first time doing this, you realize, beyond turned on by his well-practiced dominance. By just what a masterful master he is.

"Mmm. You look so fucking pretty like this," he rasps, leaning over your body with his massive cock grinding into your ass, sliding against the crack so that you can feel the tip of it, swollen and wet, hovering over the small of your back. One of his hands tugs at your hair, arching your neck backward a bit as his lips attack the soft skin of your throat in a harsh, biting kiss. "Beautiful baby girl, all bound up naked and aching to be punished. You gonna take it? Good and hard, just like the slave you know you are? Gonna be a good little bitch?"

His hot mouth teases at the corner of your lips, knowing how badly you want to kiss him, to taste him, fucking torturing you with it. Though his firm grip on your hair is anchoring your head right where he pleases, you're sure that he can feel the way you struggle now to bob it up and down, to give him your wholehearted yes.

"Yeah, that's it. Ever done this before, you dirty whore? This sweet ass ever taken a beating?"

You're not quite sure how to answer that—certain guys from your past have given your ass a few smacks, here and there, when you asked... but you don't know if that kind of thing really counts as a beating. The dynamic with them was never nearly as brutal and degrading. And they had only ever used their hands; no toys or torture instruments.

"Can't even answer the question? Dumb little bitch," Jax snickers as his face moves away from your neck, standing to his full height behind you, then stepping back so that his dick is no longer brushing against your crack, leaving you feeling emptier than ever at his absence. "Not that it matters. 'Cause I'm sure you ain't ever been beaten like this."

Ohhh shit, you think, inhaling through your teeth with a loud hiss as you feel the first soft touch of leather on your skin, his wicked fucking whip. For now he is just devilishly teasing you with it, tracing lines down your back with the tip.

"This what you want, slut? Gonna need to hear you beg for it," he orders, his other hand still tangled in your hair, pulling your skull more sharply back. "Go on. Open that filthy fucking mouth and tell me what you want."

"Thank you, Master," you whimper, letting all your shameless words fall out. "I want you. God, I want you to beat me. Hurt me. Please. I want pain, if it will bring you pleasure, sir. I want my punishment."

"Mmmmn," Jax growls, clearly incredibly aroused, and you could seriously cum just from that sound. "Bet you do, bitch. Let's see just how bad you want it, huh? See how wet you've gotten. Needy little cunt."

You've already been dripping now, for more minutes than you can count. The next sound you hear is a soft thud, which you're guessing is the whip having been cast down to the ground. Jax needs his right hand free to start going to town on your pussy.

The words that have just come out of his mouth, coupled with the feeling of his fingers making contact with your slick mound, sliding over your clit, slipping into your slit and stirring you up, swirling your wet heat around, then plunging three digits in knuckles deep, pushing in and back out slowly first before he starts to fucking pound... this just brings all the walls inside you crashing down. Floodgates in you burst open on the instant as your arousal uncontrollably gushes out. It's killing you to stay silent through all of this, but you don't dare disobey his orders, don't dare make a sound.

"Holy fuuuck," Jax grunts as he pulls his hand off of your cunt. "So wet. Tight pussy squirting all over your master. Such a dirty fucking slut."

He reaches over you to shove his sloppy, sticky fingers in your mouth, your cheek pressing against the wooden beam, as you obediently suck them clean. You're not usually one to enjoy your own flavor that much, but fuck, it tastes better than ever now that you are being fed by him, the sex god of your dreams.

Then as soon as his fingers pull out, he leans in and angles your head toward him so that he can kiss your mouth, and holy—wow. 

You know right away that you could never get enough of the feel of his full, luscious lips against yours, the taste of his talented tongue as it fucking invades and explores. He hums and groans into the kiss, sending resonant vibrations of his dominance down your throat and all over your mouth, and damn, you kind of really want to die right now.

But you don't. Of course, not yet. More than anything you're still desperate for your punishment.

"Fucking perfect little slave," Jax snarls as he pulls away, and you can hear him squatting down behind you to pick up his whip. 

Before he does, while he's down there on his haunches, he takes the chance to manhandle your ass cheeks, groping firmly and then biting down on one of them, pausing to admire the mark that he made on your flesh with his ravenous teeth, then giving that spot a wet, open-mouthed kiss, and finally a sharp, stinging slap. Your knees buckle from how much you fucking liked that.

"Slut," he chuckles as he gives that cheek a few more smacks, each harder than the last. He makes sure to give the same sweet kinky treatment to the other cheek, biting and kissing then spanking both halves with his big, sturdy hands before he finally picks up his whip, one palm still groping your ass as he stands.

"Ready to feel this whip lashing your pretty little ass?" Jax dominantly asks. "Tell me, slave. How many do you want."

You're so blissed out right now that you barely have control over your lolling tongue. "Uh... uh—a lot."

"That's not a number, slut. Give me a number you can fucking count."

"Ughhhh..." you groan out as he trails the strip of leather wickedly against your ass, "...umm, a hundred?"

A soft laugh escapes his throat. "That's cute. You must be new to this, darlin'. I'm not about to beat you dead."

Some part of you right now kind of likes the sound of that. Which is maybe... sort of... bad? Jax is still talking, so for better or for worse, you don't have time to dwell on that.

"I can do a hundred. But only if each one is... weak... and soft..." he tells you, bending over your body to press his lips against your face again, kissing your cheek, tender and sweet. "Is that what you want? Or does this filthy bitch want it hard?"

His mouth has descended to bite down on your neck as he says it, causing you to cry out in bliss. "Fuck yes, please—hard!"

Jax huffs out another sexy little laugh. "That's what I fucking thought. I'm gonna give you ten to start," he offers, leaving wet kisses on the smooth skin that he'd bitten. "Ten nice and hard. That sound good, baby girl? And you just tell me if you want more. Or... if it's too much, if you ever want me to lighten up, or stop—"

"I won't," you blurt out. "God, Jax, I want... I need you to just fucking beat my ass off."

"Mmmn. Babe, you are fucking amazing, you know that?" he growls, fondly nuzzling your neck for a second before he pulls back, standing behind you, with his rock hard cock once again hovering over your crack. "But Jax ain't my name right now. Is it. What do you call me, slut."

You cringe at your own unforgivable error. "Master. I'm so sorry, sir."

"Yeah, you better be, bitch," he snarls, as the whip that has been gliding delicately over your body suddenly lifts away from your skin. "Fucking take it."

Holy—fucking—shit. The sharp, searing pain that you feel in that instant is so goddamn perfect. Electric, explosive, exquisite. Everything Jax is. Your life as you know it is finished; you live only to serve and to worship this god of a man who deals out such sweet punishment. You love it. You love him.

The rugged velvet sound of his voice in this moment just deepens your love for him, heightens your pleasure. "Count 'em for me, whore," he orders ruthlessly. "Want more?"

"One... Thank you, sir," you sigh, hazy from the incredible high. "Please, Master. More."

For a hell of a long time, Jax gives you everything you beg him for. And every second of the pleasurable pain is so damn dirty, so damn pure, completely perfect. But you both know that, given what a desperate slut and dedicated slave you are, you will literally never want him to stop. So Jax is the one who hits pause, when he decides he should. 

You never wanted it to end, but this is what your master wants—so as much as it saddens you, still you just give in, and still it feels good.

"Damn, baby," he breathes, dropping the whip, gently kneading your ass as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses up your spine with his soft, sinful lips. "Guess I should've known better than to ask you for a number. Such a good little slave. But we're gonna stop here, okay?"

"Yes, Master," you whisper.

"You know why we're gonna stop?" he teases as his mouth reaches the back of your neck. "It's not just because I'm done with beating you. Nah, the real reason is that... there's something even better I've been dying to do."

Part of you already knows what it is. And all of you wants it. Needs it.

Jax tilts your head to claim your mouth in a kiss, as his huge dick aligns with your soaking wet slit. "Mmmn. That's it, bitch," he moans into your lips. "Gonna fucking fuck you."

Every damn thing about Jax Teller is literally magic. So, as his massive cock basically breaks your body in half, as his heavy balls slap up against your cunt with each ferocious thrust so hard and fast, as his dominant hands grope and grab all over your just beaten ass... every inch of you feels so damn blessed upon contact. 

You can't imagine any better way to recover from your punishment. Not that you ever really want to recover from it—mostly you just want more and more of it—but no matter what you want, healing is what you need. 

And Jax heals just as well as he hurts. Even better, in fact. 

Once he's done fucking your pussy rough and dirty, shooting his divine cum deep inside you just the way you beg him to, he unties your ropes and then spends the next hour or so kissing and caressing and cuddling with you, massaging your ravaged ass cheeks with his hands and mouth, taking you to heaven when that sweet mouth eats you out, and even when he lets you worship his cock the way you've been dying to do, even when he grabs your head and fucks your face before he explodes down your throat, even then it still feels like healing. You both really needed that feeling.

He lifts you up to kiss you, deep and slow, on the lips before you are even done swallowing his cum. You let yourself drown in that beautiful face, hoping that Jax knows how damn good he tastes. How perfect he is in every way. That he is a fucking god, that everyone on earth should kneel before him as his slave.

When the kiss finally ends, as you both try to catch your breath for a few seconds, the cold hard fact of your predicament sets in again.

"We should probably put some clothes on, babe," he says, coming down from the high of his sex-heated haze. "Then I've gotta work out a way to escape."

You can tell that Jax sincerely meant it, when he'd promised he would save you from this place, and you don't doubt it for a minute. 

Still, there's no denying that you two are stuck in the middle of some serious deep shit. But after having experienced such punishment and pain and pleasure, such submission and service, such sex and love with Jax Teller, today down in this cellar—which you're pretty sure would not have happened under any other circumstances ever...

"Well," you sigh, breathing in his scent for what you hope won't have to be the final time before you die, "whatever happens next, Jax, this was..."

"Definitely," he cuts in to interrupt you with a few passionate kisses, then smiles down at you so devilishly it's delicious. So hellish it's heavenly. Finishes your sentence and it's just so fucking perfect. "Fucking worth it."

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

… Sooo I know that was SUPER kinky shit, but I hope there are some filthy bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

– Main Masterlist

– Dirty Little Secret Masterlist

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

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[thatfanficstuff]

Summer Wedding - Stucky

Grouping - Stucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. smut including unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), public teasing, oral sex (m receiving), spit roasting, minor knife play and other stuff I'm sure I forgot.

A/N: This is the first fic I'm posting for my summer celebration and it was actually written for boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge. Not as um...descriptive as I'd intended on making it but I like it. Enjoy.

Word count: 3544

***

The wedding was beautiful, even you had to admit that. It was a relatively simple affair as these things went, though you were certain your uncle had spent several thousands on the flowers that seemed to dot every surface of the grounds of his estate. At least he’d kept your cousin from having a large church wedding this time. There was only so many times that was acceptable anyway, right?

A sigh slid from your lips and you sipped at your drink. You never should have come to this wedding. You weren’t in the mood for it. No, you should have made up an excuse about being sick and stayed home. The only reason you hadn’t was the fact you had no desire to listen to your mother bitch at you for the next six months for missing a family event. Just the thought had you rolling your eyes.

You’d actually been looking forward to the wedding until last week. That’s when you discovered your boyfriends were going on a mission and would not be back in time to accompany you. Not only did you hate going to weddings alone, but you’d already gone through the ordeal of explaining to your aunt why you need a plus two instead of a plus one. And she certainly hadn’t kept that information to herself. Half the damn day had been spent answering questions about your relationship from nosy family members.

Speaking of…Your cousin Natalie sat down in one of the empty chairs that flanked you. She smirked and sipped at her champagne. “So, where are your dates, Y/N?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. Too much more of that and you’d have a raging migraine. Instead, you kept your gaze on the dance floor and took another sip of your drink. “They had to work.”

“I just find it interesting that you all but beg mother for an extra seat and here they both are. Empty.” She eyed you, waiting for a reaction you had no intention of giving her. “I mean, why lie? It’s kind of pathetic.”

You finally turned your head to her. “Shouldn’t you be doing something wedding-ish? You are the maid of honor, aren’t you? Oh, that’s right, you aren’t in the wedding party, are you?” You sucked a breath through your teeth in mock sympathy. “Sorry.”

There was certain to be a reason why Natalie wasn’t part of her only sisters third wedding, but you didn’t care beyond the fact it was sure to be a sore spot. Frankly, Natalie had always been a bitch, even when you were children. Though, unlucky in the marriage department, her sister Sally had always been your preferred cousin. Maybe Sally had finally gotten tired of dealing with her sister’s shit.

Natalie narrowed her eyes and leaned toward you. “I don’t believe you could get one man to put up with you, let alone two. No one does. We actually had a pool going over whether either of them would show up. And if they did, whether they’d leave with you since you’d probably paid them to be here. I mean, most people just make up one boyfriend. Two really takes the cake. You never could stand not being the center of attention.”

The irony wasn’t lost you that most of your family had no idea you worked with the Avengers. Nor had you mentioned the names of those two boyfriends of yours. Real attention seeker you were. You chanced a glance at your phone to check the time. You had at least another hour before you could leave without a lecture from your mother. You also had zero messages from your boys. Hopefully, that meant they were taking care of business and would be home soon.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” your cousin started whisper yelling from beside you as she froze in her chair. Her eyes were wide and slightly crazed.

Your brow furrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Even as you waited for an answer, your trained ear picked up murmurs beginning amongst the other guests.

When you went to look over your shoulder, Natalie gripped your hand. “Don’t turn around,” she said through clenched teeth. When you went to do it anyway, she snapped again. “Don’t. They’ll see you staring.”

“Who?” Your tone was clipped as irritation crawled through you.

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes just walked in,” she hissed, her gaze locked on them. So apparently she was allowed to stare but you weren’t. By this point, everyone else would be staring as well. The boys were used to it.

You snatched your hand away from your cousin and spun in your seat. As soon as you saw them, a smile covered your face. They had been so certain they wouldn’t be back in time. You knew they’d pushed themselves to be here for you. You ran your gaze over them, taking in the rare sight of them in suits. Even though you’d helped them pick them out, you still licked your lips at the sight.

Steve wore a beautiful bright blue suit that you knew brought out his eyes even though they were currently hidden behind sunglasses. Buck’s suit looked light blue but it was actually a thin blue pin stripe. Both of them looked incredible as always, but you always got a little thrill seeing them dressed up. Of course, that feeling was mutual.

They hadn’t seen you yet, but they were scanning the crowd as they moved across the vast grounds of your uncle’s estate. When your uncle moved to greet them, you stood as well.

Natalie grabbed at your arm. “What are you doing? You’re going to embarrass me.”

Yeah, she didn’t need any help with that. You shook her off and started toward your men. Both of them immediately locked onto your presence and wide smiles greeted you. Your uncle got to them before you could. Steve shifted his attention to speak with him, but Buck’s attention was 100% on you. His gaze trailed over you from head to toe and his eyes darkened.

“We’re extremely honored that you’re here. How did you hear about the wedding?” you heard your uncle ask. He was one of the politer members of your family.

“They’re with me, Uncle Frank,” you said as soon as you were close enough to be heard without raising your voice. “Sorry they’re late. They were working.”

Frank turned to you, his mouth slightly agape and his brows lifted. “These are the dates Margie wouldn’t stop going on about?” Margie was his wife and the aunt you had to beg for the extra seat.

You hummed in agreement.

“Well, I certainly hope so or this is going to turn awkward in a moment,” Bucky said with a lopsided grin. He opened his arms in invitation and you stepped into them. “Missed you, doll.”

You nuzzled against his chest briefly, careful not to transfer your makeup to his shirt. “I missed you, too. So much. I’m glad you’re home.”

There was a tug on your arm and you were pulled into Steve’s embrace. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, soldier.” You turned to look at your uncle who was still staring in stunned silence. “Steve, Bucky, this is my Uncle Frank. Father of the bride.”

Both of your boys shook his hand and thanked him for allowing them to come. He hurried back to his table, undoubtedly to announce this strange turn of events. You fell into step with your boyfriends, taking their hands in yours while you walked in the middle. You led them over to your table to find Natalie still in Bucky’s seat.

“Natalie,” you said to get her attention. When she continued to gape at the two men you said her name again.

She smiled at you as if you were her favorite person in the world certain there was an introduction in her future. “Yes, cousin?”

“You’re in his seat.”

She blinked at you for a second before her face twisted in anger. She scrambled from the chair and stormed back to her table with a toss of her head. Steve and Buck chuckled as they took their seats on either side of you. They slid their chairs as close to you as they could get. “Are you two hungry? We already had dinner but I could find you something.”

Bucky squeezed your thigh. “We ate. Don’t worry about us, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad you two made it,” your mother’s voice caught your attention and you turned to find her standing next to Steve. He stood to greet her and you leaned against Bucky, knowing he wouldn’t care to do the same. “If I had to listen to one more person say she made you up I was going to scream,” she admitted as she hugged Steve. That earned another low chuckle from Bucky.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said, managing to sound sincere. Not that he disliked your mother, but they’d just returned from a mission. All they wanted to do was stay home for a couple of days and destress. But they’d come here for you and they would be on their best behavior.

“We won’t be staying long, mom. They just got home,” you informed her and braced yourself for an argument.

Instead, she nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Just make sure to introduce them to Sally before you leave.”

You groaned. “Can’t I just do it at her next wedding?”

“Y/N!” she snapped but you caught the twitch at the corner of her lips.

Bucky snorted a laugh beside you while Steve shot you a chastising look. You smiled. “I will, momma.”

She left and Bucky turned to speak in your ear as Steve sat back down. “We don’t have to leave, baby girl.” The nickname shot a thrill up your spine. “I love weddings. The food. The dancing. The clothes. Like this little number you have on. I really love this dress, doll.” You wore a white sundress with tiny blue flowers on it to match their suits that fell a few inches above your knees. It was the first time either of them had seen it.

Steve’s arm settled across the back of your chair and his fingers played with your hair. “Yeah, that dress is something special. It might be a bit too short, though,” he said without glancing at you. Instead, he seemed to be keeping an eye on the crowd around you.

“It’s not too short.” You loved the dress and thought it was perfect.

“Yeah, Stevie. If anything, it’s not short enough.” Bucky’s fingers dragged your dress up your thigh, bunching it up in his hand as he went.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” you hissed.

“I told you I missed you, doll. I want to show you how much.”

You placed a hand on his, stopping his movement. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course, we are. We talked about it all the way home,” Steve answered. He lowered his mouth to speak in your ear. “Talked about how we wanted to please you in front of everyone. With everyone watching because you know their eyes are glued to our table trying to figure out how we managed to land a beautiful gal like you.”

You snorted a laugh that cut off in a gasp as Bucky pulled your dress further up your thigh. “I don’t think that’s what they’re thinking, Steve.”

Bucky kissed the patch of skin behind your ear. “How come he gets Steve and I got Barnes?”

“He’s not the one actively trying to feel me up at my cousin’s wedding.” Your eyes slipped closed as his fingers brushed your inner thigh. Sweat beaded your skin and you wondered if you could blame it on the heat even though it was ten degrees cooler than it had been earlier.

“But it was all his idea,” Buck whispered.

Your eyes flew open to shoot a glare at the blond’s head. “Steven Grant Rogers, What would your mother say?”

Buck laughed, drawing the attention of some of the few people that weren’t already staring. “She’d probably say, ‘good going, Stevie’. She would have loved you.”

“Would—” All ability to finish your sentence or to have a rational thought fled from you when he pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your folds. Fuck.

“She’s already soaking wet for us, Steve. Such a good girl,” Bucky cooed.

Steve’s hand fisted on the back of your chair as he glanced around again. “I was wrong. I don’t have the patience for this. I need to be buried in her.” He slid his sunglasses off and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket. He turned to face you, blue eyes burning into you. “You have exactly two minutes to find us someplace private or we’re going to finger fuck you right here until you scream. Your choice, princess.”

In less than a minute, you’d sent a text on your phone and jumped to your feet. Taking their hands in yours, you dragged them toward the house. You pulled them through the large home until you reached a familiar door on the main level. Opening it, you shoved the super soldiers inside. You locked the door behind you and turned to find them already loosening their ties.

“We don’t have time for that,” you argued with a wave of your hands. “I told Uncle Frank we were borrowing his office for an important phone call. We have twenty minutes tops.”

Bucky groaned. “I wanted to take my time with you. I missed you,” he nearly whined.

The corner of your mouth kicked up. “We can take all the time you want later, baby. Right now, just fuck me.” That had him groaning again, an entirely different sound this time.

Steve, however, wasn’t wasting any time. He grabbed a cushion from the couch and tossed it on the floor. “All fours, princess.” He was already undoing his belt by the time you dropped to your knees. He moved behind you and pushed your dress up to give himself a clear view of your ass. He ran his hand over it before giving you a light swat. The mild sting was still enough to have you shifting.

“These have got to go,” he said tugging on the side of your panties. “Buck?”

You glanced up to see Bucky grin as he pulled out a knife and handed it to Steve. He traced your spine with the back of the blade causing you to hiss and arch your back. The sensation only doubled when he moved from cloth to bare skin. The cold steel on your flesh sent tremors through you but you weren’t scared. Far from it. “I think she likes that, Stevie,” Bucky said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’ll have to remember that.”

Steve merely hummed before slicing through both sides of your panties and pulling them off as he handed the knife back to his friend. His hand immediately cupped you and his fingers dipped into your soaking wet folds. “Christ, Y/N. I hope you’re ready for me, baby.”

The head of his cock nudged your entrance as if asking for permission but that only lasted a moment. A second later, Steve surged forward filling you with his length. You moaned at the familiar sensation and clawed at the carpet. He paused, giving you time to adjust then he was thrusting into you in long, slow strokes. “Don’t tease,” you ordered.

Steve laughed and increased his speed. When you groaned, Bucky was there rubbing the tip of his cock across your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked at him greedily, needing to taste him while Steve railed you from behind. Only when you had both of them inside of you did you feel complete. Whole. Whatever the fuck was wrong with you, you hoped there was no cure. You would gladly die like this.

The feeling of both of them moving in and out had a perfectly sinful, wanton moan coming from you. The vibration ran along the length of Bucky’s cock and he grunted. His fingers tightened their hold in your hair and his speed increased. Steve mirrored his pace and it didn’t take long for the office to fill with lurid grunts and the sweaty, sweet smell of sex.

Soon, you were so lost in sensation you became little more than a vessel for them to use as you climbed to your peak. Their rhythm stuttered and you knew they were close. You clenched your walls around Steve and were rewarded with a hiss and his grip on your hips tightening. At the same time, you sucked harder on Bucky and ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. “Fuck,” he bit out. “I’m close. Cum, baby girl. Come on.”

Steve’s fingers found your clit. Two seconds later you were screaming around the cock in your mouth as your cunt clutched greedily at the one in your pussy. Fuck. Bucky came next, his load shooting into your mouth and down your throat. As you swallowed his offering, Steve filled you with his cum. You felt it leak around him and drip to the floor.

They pulled out of you at the same time and you collapsed to your side. “Holy shit,” you said between pants causing your boys to laugh.

“Holy shit’s right. Damn,” Bucky agreed. Your eyes followed his movements as he tucked himself back into his pants and put himself to rights. Before you could turn to Steve, you felt fabric between your legs cleaning you up.

A glance showed him wiping away his cum with the remnants of your panties. He gave you a wicked grin. “Can’t have you leaking all over your cousin’s wedding, now can we?”

Your face heated as you thought about all the times they’d made you walk around with their cum leaking out of you. Apparently, that wasn’t appropriate for a wedding but was fine everywhere else. Steve stood and pulled his pants up before doing up his belt. He held out a hand to you. “Let’s get you fixed up, sweetheart.”

They’d barely done anything and looked like they had when you walked into the room. You, on the other hand, probably looked like you’d gone a couple of rounds with a rabid raccoon. Stupid men. Steve made sure your dress was laying correctly so everything was covered while Bucky did the same thing behind you. They both fiddled with your hair for a moment before declaring you gorgeous.

You narrowed your gaze at them, not buying it for a moment. The three of you quickly put the office to rights. There was nothing you could do about the smell of sex in the air but hopefully it would dissipate before your uncle needed to use it.

“Seriously, baby girl. You look fantastic,” Buck insisted when he noticed you fidgeting.

“Yeah, but you guys like it when I look freshly fucked,” you said as you opened the door. There was a mirror in the hallway you used to check your appearance. You actually didn’t look that bad, but you definitely looked a little wild. You shrugged. Honestly, you didn’t care. “All right, we’re saying hello to the bride, then we’re leaving.”

“No argument here.” Steve took your hand in his and Buck did the same thing on the other side.

When the three of you made it outside, you headed straight for the head table. “Sally, this is Steve and Bucky. Boys, this is my cousin Sally and her new husband Ben.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Steve greeted with a smile. Sally launched herself at him and wrapped him in a hug.

“I can’t believe you came to my wedding,” she squealed before letting go of him to hug Bucky. His eyes begged you to help him but you just smiled. Sally was a bit flighty but she was good people.

She hugged you last. “You should have told me, Y/N. I would have sat you closer to the front.”

“It’s okay, Sally. We have to go. Congratulations,” you said then let her go. When you did, you found that most of the family had come to get introductions or say their farewells. Nicole tried to go in for a hug, but Steve subtly made sure it was nothing more than a handshake. The fact you didn’t introduce her was enough to tell them she wasn’t the kind of person they wanted to know.

When she tried to hug Bucky, you intercepted and hugged her instead. “It was good seeing you, Nicole.”

“You have some explaining to do,” she said in a low voice as she hugged you tighter than necessary. When she released you, she continued to stand by you.

You watched Bucky and Steve say goodbye to your mother and uncle before they turned to you. You held up a finger to tell them you’d be right with them and leaned sideways to get closer to your cousin. “So, just out of curiosity, did anyone in the pool have them fucking me during the reception?”

#stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #here be lemons #knife play #hot girl summer challenge #marvel fanfic