#OH SHIT I NEED TO RETURN MY TEXTBOOKS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pullhisteeth · 7 months

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Hi, lovely! Just wanted to drop by and say that I miss you and your amazing writing 🥹🧡 I understand if you're taking a break or stepping away from the app, but if you're up for it, I was wondering if I could drop in a request? No pressure at all! I REALLY love the way you write fluffy and angsty fics so I was wondering if you could write about a besties-to-lovers with Eddie where he asks the reader for help with asking a different girl out, without knowing about reader's feelings for him...and then along the way he realizes his feelings for the reader hehe and maybe a lil sprinkle of jealous!Eddie too 😎 Ily and I hope you're doing okay! 🩷🩷🩷

hi my love! this is the sweetest message thank you - not taking an intentional break, just busy as anything. work’s been my whole life the past couple weeks (today is actually my first day off in like a month) and what with that and trying to eat/sleep/speak to other human beings I am …… deceased

it’s so kind of you to say hello! I loved writing your request, it was a nice break for my brain and it felt good to get back into it. ♡ love you!

contains hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. tried to get some jealous!eddie in there for you :-)

3.4k

Eddie looks pretty like this.

He’s sitting at your desk in the library. You’re not sure why he’s here, though that wasn’t your first thought when you spotted him on your way over. He’s hunched over slightly, unruly hair keeping his face hidden, but it’s catching the light of the afternoon sun just right and it’s glowing a blushing golden and the flutters in your gut are relentless.

“Hey,” you murmur, wary of both startling him, and the strict Hawkins Library warden who likes to shush people like it’s a sport. Regardless he starts, shoulders jumping and face whipping up and around to look at you with wide, surprised eyes that soften when he realises who you are.

“Hi, sugar,” he says, voice ebbing as he notices how loud he’s being. He looks around quickly, just in case he’s about to get scolded, before looking back up at you and beaming. It doesn’t fool you, though; his presence here coupled with the sheen of anxiety behind his eyes gives him away.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, setting your backpack down on the table and taking the seat opposite him.

He begins fiddling with his ring again and diverts his eye. He’s nervous and you want to know how to fix it more than you wish to let on.

You hum an encouraging noise when he says nothing, sliding textbooks out of your bag along with your pens.

“I, uh… I need your help,” he says warily.

“Oh? With what?”

“I want to, uh… I wanna ask Tara out,” he says, and the words come out in one quick breath, his eyes still on his hands. “But I dunno how.”

You’re quiet, busy hands halting with a book halfway open. You look at him, mouth agape, for a second too long - he looks up after a beat and catches you before you have the sense to close it.

“Please?” he begs, those eyes like a puppy dog, wide and brown and far too lovable. “I’d take her to the Hawk but she’s- Man, she’s way too cool, it’s intimidating, and I really wanna impress her, you know? And I think the Hawk’ll be too busy on Friday ‘cause I know that new movie’s out that all the kids wanna see, so what if-”

“Okay,” you say. You’re sharp, voice like a whip, cutting him off before he derails.

He looks at you blankly for a second before saying, “Really? Shit, thank you.”

You look down at the books in front of you, eyes on the printed pages but taking nothing in. “Take her to the Garage,” you tell him quietly.

“What?”

“The Garage,” you repeat, closing the textbook and piling it on top of the others to return them to your bag. “It’s on the east side, on the road out.”

“Yeah, I know where the Garage is, but- Wait, are you headin’ out already? You just got here.”

“Don’t feel like studying,” you say flatly. “The Garage is cool. Rob took me there once. Tara’d love it.”

“Hey, hey-” His restless hands reach over to grip your wrist, to stop you moving, but you’re slippery and quick and far too determined on leaving. “You don’t have to leave, I’ll leave you alone. Your exam’s next week, I don’t wanna-”

“It’s fine, Eddie, I’ll study tomorrow.”

“But-”

“See you around,” you say quickly, tugging on the zipper on your bag and standing so fast it makes your head spin. You can hear him protesting behind you but it’s no use - the only place you want to be right now is home.

Eddie doesn’t call that evening. He doesn’t call the next day either, or the two following that. You float between your bed, the fridge and various shifts at work without so much as daring to call him yourself, though you lie awake at night and worry you’ve done something terrible, something earth-shatteringly cruel by leaving him like you did. Something so bad that twelve years of friendship is lost forever.

“Maybe it’s better like this,” you tell Nancy over the phone. It’s Thursday night, four days until your exam, and you haven’t spoken to Eddie since Sunday. “I was gonna spend forever like that. Maybe now I can move on or somethin’.”

“We both know you’re not going to move on,” she tells you. You groan, turning over onto your back to stare at your bedroom ceiling. Your bed is like a rotten pit, unmade for nearly a week and the past five days’ dirty (and clean) laundry is littered all over the top of the comforter. “And you shouldn’t. You’d just be hiding from your feelings.”

“I hate you,” you tell her, though the way your voice comes out through your smile deceives you. “You always sound so wise, how is that?”

“I am wise,” she says, smiling too. “And I’m wise enough to know that Eddie feels the same, even if he doesn’t realise it yet. Apparently I’ve got the brains for both of us, ‘cause he’s a bit dumb like that sometimes.”

“I wish he wasn’t,” you whine, “I can’t get the image of him and Tara outta my head.”

“I can go, if you want,” she says.

“Huh?”

“I can take Rob to the Garage on Friday, keep an eye on stuff.”

“Shit, would you?”

“Yeah, why not? What’re you doing that night anyway?”

“Dunno,” you say, morose, “Probably heading to the library again.”

“Okay,” she says sympathetically. “You’re gonna smash this exam, you know that, right?”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you grumble.”

“Well I know you will. And then Indiana State’ll have the best biologist known to man on their campus.”

“Funny,” you say.

“I’m wise and funny? You’re kind tonight.”

“I’m gonna go, Nance.”

“Okay,” she says, laughing. “I’ll call on Saturday, okay? And please eat some dinner.”

“Okay,” you reply, hanging up. You balance the receiver back on its stand and roll back over, willing the tears back when you feel them roll down your temples.

Friday nights are your favourite nights at the library.

Who else spends the one designated social evening of the week in a room designed for quiet? You, apparently, alongside two old ladies knitting in the comfy corner, and a kid who looks like he might be home from college for the holidays. You’re settled at your usual desk with textbooks and papers scattered everywhere - the tabletop, the chair next to you, the floor. You’ve been here for hours, pouring over all of your work, oblivious to most of the minimal movement and chatter happening in the room.

You’ve got a tape in your Walkman - classical, one your dad found at the record store downtown - so you feel Eddie before you see him. He startles you, his wide hand on your shoulder, and you jump, pulling your headphones down.

“Fucking hell,” you breathe, your heart beating a mile a minute. You twist in your seat and put your pen down, looking up at him. You couldn't worry about the warden if you tried, far too enamoured by him despite everything. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He’s hovering over you, his hair a mess and cheeks flushed pink. You notice he has his nice shirt on - a deep blue, so dark it’s almost black - and his lips are rosy.

“Tara needed the bathroom on the way home, this was the closest place. How’s it going?”

There’s a lilt to his voice that churns your stomach. It’s the one he gets at parties, or that night just before your birthday when the two of you drank wine in his living room and didn’t sleep until six in the morning.

He’s been drinking and, judging by the smell lingering on his clothes, smoking, too, and his smile and the pink blooming over his cheeks only makes the churning worse.

“Fine,” you tell him. “Was in the zone, sorry.”

“No,” he breathes, finally backing away. You fill your lungs and watch him as he rounds the table. His eyes keep moving from you to the door across the room, presumably watching for her. “I interrupted you, ‘m’sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Gotta run,” he says, face brightening in a way that makes you want to vomit. You turn back around and see Tara in the doorway, waving, beaming. “Don’t work too hard, please? Get some sleep. And eat something- Have you eaten at all today?”

He’s standing a foot or two from the table now, but he stops as he asks you this.

“Uh,” you look down at your watch. 12:07am. “I had lunch.”

“Shit, you need’ta eat something. Please.”

“Okay, Eds. I’ll have some toast when I get home. Have a nice night.”

“You’ve got this,” he says, and it’s here that the silly smile on his face falters. He still hasn’t moved, and you can see Tara looking over, watching. He’s looking at you and something breaks - his smile drops completely and his eyes go all sad and weird.

“What?” you ask, unamused.

“Nothing,” he says. “Nothing. Get some sleep okay? See you later.”

He turns and walks across to the exit, and you watch him leave. He’s slow and slumped, like someone’s just delivered bad news.

You head out fifteen minutes later, and chew unhappily on three slices of toast before you get to bed.

Studying until late is never a good idea.

You’re hopping around your bedroom, pulling stockings up your legs and praying to anything holy that the traffic on your way into work isn’t too bad.

“I know this isn’t really what you wanted to hear,” Nancy’s saying sadly. You’ve got the receiver propped between your cheek and your shoulder as you stumble around and stretch the cord within an inch of its life. “They just… It really did look like they were having fun.”

“He came to see me at the library,” you tell her breathlessly, desperate to think of anything but Eddie and Tara playing pool and laughing like lovedrunk teenagers

“What? When? Last night?”

“Yeah, said she needed a piss on the way home.” You stop hopping, both stockings finally in place, and take the phone in your hand. “He was really weird, actually.”

“Weird how?”

“I dunno. He seemed happy, but then he got all sad.”

“Did you tell him off?” she asks, faux-stern.

“No,” you tell her, “just told him I’d have dinner, and to have a good night.”

She hums, and you look at the clock.

“Shit, Nance, I’m sorry, I really gotta go, I’m gonna be so late-”

“No, no, you go, I’ll see you soon. And good luck on Monday, yeah? I know you’ll ace it.” -

Your body takes you to the library like it’s on auto-pilot or something. You finished the entrance exam three hours ago, and though it seemed to go okay, you daren’t be too optimistic. You’d hovered around town for a while, eating ice cream and watching birds, before your feet walked you right here: your desk on the first floor of Hawkins Library.

It’s here that you’ve been sitting for an hour or so, flicking through novels but finding no interest in the words on the page. Your brain is melted from a near-fatal combination overworking and overthinking, and without an exam to worry about, the latter is now the one clocking overtime.

You can’t get the picture of Eddie’s face out of your head. His eyes had been so sad, his face drooping like the dawning of some cruel realisation. The way he’d walked out of the room had matched it, sorrowful and curled over.

Worst of all, he hasn’t called.

There’s only two reasons you can think of. Firstly, he’s busy calling Tara instead of you. He’s telling her about his day, spinning new inside jokes and letting her hear his pretty laugh.

Or second: he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore. You’re too cold, flat, uninteresting. Tara is cool.

There is a third possibility that you daren’t think about for the sake of your own heart: that both are true.

You slam the hardback in your hands shut and place it roughly on the table.

“Woah, was it that bad?”

You look up and find Eddie standing across from you, precisely where he’d been that moment something had changed on Friday. He’s far less put together now, dressed in his usual bedraggled jacket and jeans.

He laughs as you stare at him. After a minute, he takes the seat opposite and pulls the book towards himself.

“Weird choice for you, sugar.”

“Quiet,” you tell him in a whisper, nodding to your right where the warden is circling.

“Sorry,” he whispers back with a smile. “What’re you still doing here? Wasn’t the exam this morning?”

“I like it here,” you tell him. A half-truth - you do, but you’d really rather be anywhere else right now.

“Right,” he says, clearly not buying it. “And how’d it go?”

You shrug. “Okay, I think. I hope.”

“You’re the smartest person I know. You’ll do great.”

“I wish people would stop saying that,” you say, looking out of the window to your left.

“What? That you’re smart?”

“That I’ll ace it. I have no idea.”

“No, you don’t,” he says. “But you’ve definitely got a better idea than me.”

“What’s that mean?” you ask, turning back to look at him.

“I just… You’ve got more brains than me, that’s all.”

He’s fiddling with his rings again, eyes trained on the tentative movements of his fingers rather than you. It gives you a chance to take in his face properly: tired, sallow, unhappy.

“How was Friday?” you chance. He shrugs. “Just okay?”

“Fine, yeah,” he says, voice flat and unfeeling. “Had fun, ‘til we came here.”

Your instinct is to be offended. You didn’t say anything cruel or unwarranted; in fact you barely said a thing at all. How could you have ruined the evening?

“What?”

“Tara, she, uh… She said bye when we left. I was walkin’ her home, only stopped here for the can, I mean- You know we’re miles from the park, took me forever to get back to mine. Thought, y’know…” You hum so he doesn’t have to utter the inevitable and break your heart.

“What happened?” you ask softly, hands on the table in front of you like an offering.

He looks troubled, truly, and it hurts - you may have gone a week without contact, the longest since he went on a fishing trip with Wayne when you were both 18, but he’s your best friend, and his pain is your pain.

He closes his eyes tight and sucks in a breath.

“When we left, she said… She told me I need to ‘really think about things’, which made no sense to me at the time, I guess ‘cause I was, like, 4 whiskey sours in and we’d smoked on the way over, and then she used the payphone outside to call a cab so I waited with her and walked home, and the next morning I realised what she meant.”

You look at him with nothing to say. He takes another deep breath.

“She probably saw me over here with you, y’know, and I’m sure to other people we seem pretty… Comfortable. And then you said you hadn’t eaten, and you looked so tired, I- All I wanted to do was take you home and make you dinner. And then the next morning, and, like, all weekend, all I could think was that one day some other guy’d be doin’ that for you, some college guy or somethin’, and I’d have to watch, ‘cause you’re my friend.”

“Eddie, I don’t understand.”

You’re genuinely bewildered. He’s still whispering, or at least talking in a low voice, and at multiple points during the past five minutes you thought you’d completely misheard him. It’s definitely your Eddie sitting opposite you - he has a tendency to be a little dramatic, and this is certainly that - but he’s never been so brashly honest like this with you before.

“I had fun with Tara, really, but… I realised I’d spent all night thinking about how much better it’d have been if you’d been there.”

You can feel the flush like fire up your neck and across your cheeks. Your palms are clammy so you pull them inwards, back towards yourself, to save yourself the embarrassment.

“I think I need to get some air,” you say, standing and leaving without waiting for him.

You hear him behind you as you descend the stairs and push the clunky glass door open. You’re met with a wall of cold air and you breathe a heaving sigh as you stand in its frost.

The door opens again only a few seconds later, and you turn to face your friend.

“Eddie,” you begin, “I need to know that you’re telling me what I think you’re telling me.”

“You left your coat,” is all he says, handing you the jacket. You don’t move, too stunned, so he steps behind you and you let him manipulate your arms into the sleeves like a sullen child.

“Eddie,” you bite, impatient and frustrated.

“Yeah,” he breathes behind you. When the coat’s on, he squeezes your shoulders, and you round on him.

“Please just tell me what the fuck is going-”

“I think I love you,” he says, louder than you. It’s a declaration, said without hesitation or subtlety. It’s so confidently loud that a couple of people leaving the library turn to look.

“It shouldn’t have taken me taking someone else out to realise it, but fuck, once I did I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I guess ‘cause we see each other all the time I never really questioned why I think about you so often, or whatever, but… I wanted to take you home and make you dinner on Friday, make sure you got some sleep, fuckin’ look after you. Made me feel dumb as hell because you’re not a kid or anythin’, but I just want you to be okay.”

You’re not sure when you started crying. Maybe it was as early as the declaration itself, but you know that by the time he told you he wants to take care of you, tears were rolling over your cheeks, unstoppable and filled with elation.

“Shit,” Eddie whispers, stepping toward you without thinking, reaching out to hold you somehow. He settles for a hand on your upper arm, almost at your shoulder. “Fuck, I’m sorry, please don’t cry, I-”

“It’s fine, I’m okay, I’m, uh- I’m happy,” you say, giggling, your tears making it wetter, thicker. “They’re happy tears.”

“Oh, good,” he breathes, shoulders sloping. You spot the beginning of a grin through cloudy vision. “Thank god.”

While you wipe your face with the sleeve of your jumper, Eddie’s hand moves from your shoulder and to your neck. You feel the heavy weight of him pressing there, not threatening but a comfort. It forces you closer, until you’re both looking at each other and laughing.

“The exam went really well,” you tell him. “Honest.”

“I knew it would,” he says, curling a finger behind your ear to move a piece of hair from your face. “You’re gonna kill it at college.”

“I’ll miss you. And everyone else.”

“We’re not going anywhere any time soon,” he says softly, fingers dancing until he’s cradling your face. His other hand is stuffed in his pocket, and you’re close enough that you can reach in and grasp it, pulling it out so you can wind your fingers between his. He looks down and smiles.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. It’s almost a whisper and you almost miss it - almost. “For the exam, I mean. You did well, y’deserve a kiss.”

“Sure,” you say, laughing again. “For the exam, yeah.”

He chuckles before dipping his head just enough. You lift up to meet him halfway and he presses his lips to yours, firm but quick.

“Again,” you breathe, and he doesn’t ask questions. He bows again and kisses you, his force solid and homely. You kiss him back, breathless and keening.He’s warm and you want to take, take, take. You only stop when the door opens behind you again, creaking and followed by quick footsteps as someone else leaves.

Eddie kisses your nose and says, “Shit, you’re cold.”

“Can we go home?”

“No,” he says, and before you can finish protesting, he adds, “We have to celebrate. You’re done with studying! Let’s go get milkshakes or something.”

You wrinkle your nose, determined that you won’t be going to the diner you work in. “How about pizza?”

“Whatever you want, smartie pants.”

You physically bristle at the petname, cheeks flushing again despite the chill. Eddie’s arm settles around your shoulders and squeezes as he kisses your temple.

You stop walking once you reach the end of the block. He stops with you and turns to look at you without dropping your hand.

"I think I love you too, by the way," you tell him. "I didn't say- Back there, I should've said it. I- Well, I know I love you."

He smiles - beams - at your return of his declaration. He squeezes your hand in his and tugs.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Let's go."

#thank you !!!#request #honestly my life is a nightmare rn I promise u I would rather be doing this #I hope you like it x #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson request #stranger things 4 #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader fluff

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thebisexualdogdad · 10 months

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fic where Maddy Perez falls for East highlands resident bad boy and they hook up after a group project

Maddy Perez x Male!reader

Maddy certainly wasn't the only person in school to have a thing for you, in fact you had already made your way through most of the cheerleading squad but unlike them Maddy refused to let you know she was insanely attracted to you.

"Looking good Perez, when are you going to let me take you out," you asked her one day in history class when she was wearing her cheer uniform for that night's football game.

"Never gonna happen Y/N," she said rolling her eyes but really she was imagining how good your head would look underneath her skirt.

Then there was that time at a party when you surprised everyone by actually showing up.

"What are you doing here? Don't you prefer getting drunk on cheap beer behind the liquor store," Maddy jokes, finding you in the kitchen as you start drinking some very expensive whisky directly from the bottle.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you," you say, offering her the whisky, "you look hot by the way."

Maddy quickly grabs the bottle and chugs some of it hoping to hide the blush forming on her cheeks, "too bad I'm not interested in letting you get in my pants but I'm sure you'll find someone else to get lucky with."

"You're breaking my heart Perez," you say playfully.

"Didn't know you had one," she cracks.

"If you ever let me take you out on that date you'd see there's more to me than just being a devilishly handsome bad boy," you say leaning in close to her.

Maddy gulps, taking another swig of whisky to stop herself from fucking you right there on that counter.

You and Maddy continued this game until you eventually got partnered up for a history project.

How the hell was she going to retain her self control and not jump your bones when you were going to be spending so much time together alone in her bedroom.

Well technically you could have done this project at the library but Maddy was horny and thinking with her pussy, not her brain.

So here you are, in her room on day three of working on your project with Maddy looking at you like a four course meal after you drove her home on your motorcycle.

Her body was still humming from the vibrations and holding onto you so tightly.

"Maddy? Earth to Maddy," you laugh, snapping her out of her trance, "I think we've got enough research notes to start working on the essay."

"Yeah, right, let me get my laptop," she says, taking a seat at her desk and turning her laptop on.

You grab the small ottoman she uses at her vanity mirror and take a seat next to her, a little too close for Maddy to stay focused on the essay.

"You want me to type? You seem to be making a lot of typos there Perez," you laugh.

Maddy pushes the laptop in front of you and stands from her chair, "I need some water do you want anything?"

"Vodka would be nice," you grin.

"I'll get you a soda," she says before leaving her bedroom.

When she returns her glass of water is nearly empty from her trying to cool herself down and she hands you the soda.

You crack it open and take a drink, setting it on the desk as you keep working.

"Can you hand me the textbook, there's something I want to look up," you ask a few minutes later and when she grabs the book she knocks your dark soda over and it spills right onto your white shirt.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry," she says running to her bathroom to grab a towel to clean up her desk.

But when she steps out of her bathroom you're standing there shirtless.

"Mind if I wash this in your sink? Its sticky and I don't want it to stain," You ask.

"Uh, yeah, yeah that's fine," she says, glazing over your abs as you walk past her to her bathroom.

She cleans up the soda and hears the water running in the bathroom, she has to get it together.

She sits on the edge of her bed and puts her head in her hands, how the hell did you have this much of an affect on her.

"Hey it's okay, it's just a shirt," you chuckle when you come back into her room.

You left your shirt hanging in the bathroom to dry and now there's some stray water droplets running down your stomach.

Fuck.

You walk over to her and Maddy can't fight the urges anymore, her hands go to your neck and she pulls you down into an intense kiss.

"Woah, Maddy," you say in surprise, pulling away from her.

"You've been hitting on me since the sixth grade, you really don't want this?" She scoffs.

"I want this more than you know, I just want to make sure you want this," you say.

"I want this Y/N, I really want this," she says bringing you back in for another kiss.

You sink down to your knees in front of her, kissing down her neck and playing with the hem of her shirt.

"Take it off," she orders and in seconds her shirt is gone.

You keep kissing down her body until you reach the top of her jeans.

You look up at her and she nods her consent before raising her hips in the air so you could tug her jeans down her legs.

"God you're beautiful Maddy," you say, kissing along her thighs, "and so wet already."

"I hate that you turn me on this much," she groans right as your tongue licks her through her panties.

"If you want me to stop just tell me to," you say.

"Don't you fucking dare stop," she says sternly and you smile, pulling her panties to the side and tasting her directly.

You moan and Maddy feels it deep in the pit of her stomach, your tongue working her in ways no other guy ever had before.

One her of legs goes over your shoulder, giving you better access.

Her arousal drips down your chin and you slip a finger inside with ease, Maddy moaning above you.

A second finger enters her and you pump them slowly, using your other hand to pull the hood of her clit back and suck it between your lips.

"Holy shit," Maddy cries out, she had been holding this in for so long she can't even feel embarrassed about how quickly she came because it felt so fucking good.

"Damn Perez, I wasn't even down there for a full five minutes," you say cockily.

"Shut up and fuck me Y/N," she demands and you happily stand up, dropping your jeans to reveal the massive boner poking through your boxers.

"You got any condoms?" You ask, stroking yourself through your boxers which only turns her on more.

"Top left drawer in my bathroom," she says.

You go to her bathroom again and find the box of condoms, grabbing one and when you return her bra and panties are gone, leaving her completely naked and now in the center of her bed.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" You say, letting your boxers join the rest of your clothes on the floor and putting the condom on.

"Didn't I tell you to fuck me already?" Maddy states and you smirk, joining her in bed.

You settle on top of her, kissing her and she moans at the taste of herself on your tongue.

Reaching down you tease her with the tip of your cock, lathering it with her arousal before easing it inside.

Maddy clearly doesn't want to wait any longer so you quickly rock your hips in a steady rhythm.

Her nails dig into your back, her bed creaking underneath you.

You suck harshly at her neck, one of your hands going to play with her chest.

Maddy moans loudly when you roll one of her nipples between your fingers, legs wrapping around your waist so you can hit deeper inside her.

"Oh fuck me, right there, right there," she chants.

Once again it doesn't take long for her to cum, this one hitting her even harder than the first.

"Do you want me to pull out?" You ask her, slowing your movements giving her a few aftershocks.

"No, keep going until you cum," she says, grabbing your ass.

You smirk and pick your pace back up, she's squeezing your ass and within another minute you're cumming inside her.

"Fuck Maddy," you grunt, your hips moving more frantically through your release.

"That felt so fucking good," she says, groaning when you pull out of her and feeling so empty.

You roll over next to her, taking the condom off and throwing it in the trash next to her bed.

"So does this mean you're finally gonna let me take you on a date?" You tease.

"I'll tell you what Y/N, if we get an A on this project, I'll go on a date with you," she replies.

"You got yourself a deal," you smile, "now let's get back to work, we have an essay to write."

"Have you ever worked this hard on an assignment before?" She jokes.

"Nope but sex is an excellent motivation and it'll be even better at the end of it because I'm going to take you on the best date of your life."

#euphoria imagine #maddy perez imagine #maddy perez x reader #x male reader #fic

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andikenpachi · 4 months

Text

take care

a little drabby-drab of nursing student!reader meeting paramedic student!abby for the first time

the first day of the semester always seemed to be the most hectic, and that didn’t change once you got accepted into your college’s nursing program. the halls of the health science building were filled to the brim as students made their way to and from classes, their respective conversations buzzing around you like a swarm of bees.

you held your gigantic fundamentals of nursing textbook to your chest with one hand (seriously, why did the book have to be so big?), the other clutching the strap if your backpack. you only had one class today, but it was a whopping three hours long, and your mind was already on information overload. luckily, you professor was gracious, and provided the class with a 20 minute break halfway into the lecture. you decided to use that break to take a much-needed breath of fresh air, and you took an almost exaggerated deep breath in once you opened the double doors leading outside. the air was crisp, and a bit chilly, which was perfect for clearing your mind and ridding it of any distractions.

“uh, excuse me?”

a tap on the shoulder and a smooth voice caught your attention, and you turned around, only to be met with, well… your first distraction.

holy shit.

you would’ve never imagined describing a woman as a complete hunk, but no other word could fit the description of the tall blonde standing before you. her broad shoulders and thick arms strained in the light blue shirt that symbolized students of the paramedics program, which was tightly tucked into black cargo pants that fit her muscular thighs a bit too well.

you tried to speak. you made a real effort too… but was her delicate grey-green eyes made you absolutely melt under her gaze. after what seemed like an eternity of just gawking at the woman, you finally found your voice.

“hi…”

hi?! really, that’s all you could think of saying?!

unexpectedly, the woman chuckled, a low and almost raspy sound that made your heart flutter in your chest.

“hi,” she replied, a bit teasingly. she held out her hand, revealing an AirPod case. “i believe this is yours. i noticed it fall out your backpack in the hallway.”

your eyebrows shot up, and you instantly grabbed your bag, only then noticing that one of the pockets were unzipped.

“oh! wow, uh… thanks,” you stammered, unable to even maintain eye contact as the blonde returned your belonging.

“no problem,” she responded, and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought you could hear the smile in her voice.

now what?

you stood there awkwardly, fingers mindlessly toying with the strap of your backpack as you rocked back and forth.

“i’m ab-”

“okay thanks again, bye now!” you suddenly interjected, and you sped away, arms and legs moving almost robotically as you desperately attempted to get out of her field of vision and to your car as quickly as possible.

you didn’t even realize what you did, at least, not until you sat in your car. you slapped both of your cheeks (macaulay culkin style) and yelled, letting out all of your frustration and sheer embarrassment from that interaction.

you leaned back in your seat, shutting your eyes and sighing as you finally calmed down.

what a great way to start off the new semester, you thought to yourself. i’m somehow already behind in my studies, and then i just had to make a fool of myself in front of this fine ass woman, who i might end up seeing almost every fucking day. please, don’t let this day get any worse…

a knock at your window.

the blonde paramedic student.

whoever my enemies are, it seems they have won…

you swallowed the lump in your throat before rolling down your window down all the way, to which the blonde responded by resting her folded arms (oh god, her arms) in the space. she was smiling, biting her bottom lip seemingly to not burst out into laughter, and you fiddled with your fingers in your lap.

“you seemed a bit too eager to get away from me there,” she hummed. “i didn’t even get a chance to tell you my name…”

“i-i wasn’t, i promise!” you exclaimed. “it’s just-”

“no, no, it’s all good,” the blonde assured with a laugh. “i’m abby, by the way.”

“abby…” you repeated, liking the way it felt on your tongue. you told her your name as well, to which she smiled.

“it’s nice to meet you,” abby said, “now i know who to call when i need someone to take care of me.”

your eyes widened and your cheeks heated up in a blush, and abby laughed at just how flustered she got you.

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding,” she grinned. “but since i’m here, i might as well ask: i’ve been looking for a study buddy, and i know we’re in different majors, but we could still-”

“yes!” you answered a bit too loud for how close you were, and you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. “i-i mean, yeah, we can study together, if you like.”

abby bit her lip and smiled, clearly pleased with your response. “great, gimme your phone.”

you complied, unlocking your phone and handing it to her, allowing you to save her number onto it. she called herself, pulling her own phone out of her pocket and saving your number.

“cool, i’ll call you later so we can set things up, ‘kay?”

you nodded as abby handed you your phone back, and she tapped the edge of your car door.

“see you around, nurse,” she jested with a wink, sticking a hand in her pocket as she walked away.

you watched her go, letting out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding as you leaned back in your seat.

you weren’t sure what exactly you were getting yourself into, but whatever it was, you at hoped it’d work out.

i might make a part 2 to this, i might not (i will), but it might not be any time soon lol.

#abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson drabble #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader

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thewritingofspencerrose · 6 months

Text

Midterm Madness

Luke Hughes x OC

"Babe?" His rough, sleep-filled voice mumbles, rolling over in our bed. "What are you doing up?"

"Oh God, did I wake you?" I answer instead, dulling the screen of my laptop that sits in front of me. "I've been trying so hard to type quietly." Okay, that wasn't the answer Lu was looking for, based on how adorably confused he is right now, curls everywhere.

"It's- two in the morning Baby, why aren't you asleep?" He tries again, pulling the textbook off my lap, "And what is this?"

"I have a midterm in the morning, I was just studying now since I didn't have a chance to today at the hospital and then I got home with barely enough time to make dinner before you and Ja -"

"I wish you would have told me Baby," He interrupts, rolling on top of me and preventing any further studying. "I don't want you to feel like you have to cook for the Jack and I when you spend the night here, especially after a shift or on an exam night."

"But I enjoy it, it's like sitting down to family dinner and I don't get those when I go home," I can't help but remind, because it's the truth. He was there during my parents divorce last year when my sister left for school and made them an empty nester. He knows what was lost, and the Hughes family did their best to fill it in.

"How can I help with..." Are the next words out of his mouth, his strong arms pulling my back into his chest, holding the textbook in his hands as if he were reading. "Biochemical reactions?"

"I appreciate your efforts baby but you have practice tomorrow, and-"

"And nothing. Come on, if you're up, I'm up, and we're going to overnight this like when we were in Michigan," He demands, moving from the bed and taking all of his warmth with him. Throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, he tosses me his hoodie, my favorite one, and holds out his hand, taking my books and computer from me. "We're going to make some tea, settle down at the dining table, and get this shit done, okay?"

"Okay, I can agree to these terms," I can't help but agree, seeing the soft smile he's using on me, pulling his sweatshirt over my head and throwing my hair up. "We've got this."

"Hell yeah we do," Lu assures, leaving me to follow him as he exits his room, sprawling all of my things across the table, only pausing when another male voice interrupts the silence of the room from the couch.

"Moose? Mayday?" Jack's voice is the one to call, his head ducking up over the back of the couch, game controller in hand and brows in the sky. "What are you two doing up?"

"Mae has a midterm in the morning so we're going to study for it," Lu answers, turning to me, "Want to grab the snacks and drinks? You need fuel if we're going to survive this."

"Yes sir," I answer with a mock salute, wandering away with the boys chattering in the back ground. It's on my return that I pause, seeing both boys sitting at the table with their noses in my textbook. "Boys?"

"Can't have my future sister-in-law bombing an exam now can I? Who else is going to patch me up when I get into another fight?" And while it's a joke, you can see in his body language how much he does care.

"What fight? I thought that brawl with Aho wasn't a fight?" I can't help but chirp, his eyes rolling and Luke laughs, pulling me down to sit next to him, his lips meeting my forehead.

"Yeah, you think you're so funny Doc, now tell me, what's the golgi apparatus?"

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #jack hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl oneshot

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sunnysidestories · 11 months

Text

Introductions Pt 2

Pt 1

Pt 3

Summary: Reader is a vigilante on young justice who goes to the same school as Walls. Only Wally doesn't know the readers identity, but she knows his. SLOW BURN

Wally West x Fem!Reader

"Hi, I'm Wally West. It's nice to meet you."

As his voice rang in my ears, and he seemed to look back at his book, my heart would begin to race. I sat there for a moment too long, so I quickly would pick up my own voice, even if it cracked. "I'm y/n l/n. It's nice to meet you too." He doesn't know. He can't know.

Wally would once again look back up from the textbook, his eyes seeming to scan along my face. "You're not new. I know you." shit. "Well, I just changed classes, not schools. I've been at Keystone my whole life. I'm just not the most popular person."

"Oh cool, I hope you like the advanced course. If you ever need any help I'll gladly give you my number. Science is one of the only things I seem to be good at." he genuinely doesn't know? I'm glad, at least this is my chance. Let's find out who Kid Flash is under all the spandex.

He's a nerd. He's a total nerd.

Often, before class, I would find myself in a conversation about the latest scientific fact, most of them being obscure. He seemed to always speak with his hands, a grin never leaving his face. I found out his uncle is a forensic chemist, which helps explain his passion for all things scientific. Even if he didn't outwardly say it, I could tell he meant a lot to him. But when the class would eventually begin, Wally would totally shut off the conversation, rarely continuing it over a note. He took the class very seriously.

He's not exactly how I would have expected him to be. Compared to how he is as Kid Flash, he's much more sporadic. He seems to always lead a conversation, which I don't always mind, but when he asked me about what I liked one time, he didn't interrupt. He let me rant for a while before I realized what I was doing, though he only encouraged me to go on with a smile.

...

"So that's why I've got to go to Central City for the week." Wally lied about some other excuse for a mission. It felt wrong knowing he's really going to fight crime. I have no room to talk, really. I'll be busy at Keystone myself. I wonder how much of it is actually a lie and how much is really fact.

"It's fine, I understand it's not your fault, but i'll miss you." Wally seemed to avoid eye contact almost if my comment had made him uncomfortable. I was telling the truth though, I would miss him. Even more than I would like to admit. I didn't pressure him about it further as the class went on.

But when it was time for us to take notes from the textbook, and the whole class was sent on their own, Wally would slide me a folded piece of notebook paper. He didn't even look at me, so if any outside eyes had seen the exchange, it would look as if he was returning something of mine. I would quietly open the slip to be greeted by Wally's hastily written writing.

Hey, text me the work I'll miss next week

My eyes scanned the page only to land on his number at the bottom. He could just get it from the teacher, but the fact he trusted me enough with his perfect grade was flattering. Wally's handwriting is another one of those things I didn't think would differ from note to note. Ones he had the time to write at home are always much neater, though his handwriting is much bigger than normal standards would accept, I don't mind. The notes he writes me at school are always messy, almost like he's trying to write faster than he can but doesn't want to use his speed, so in the end, it's just much slopper. If one didn't know Wally, they could rightfully assume the contrast between his writing could be the work of two different people.

Sure, but is it just for the notes right?

I would put in my own words under his before slipping it back to him. He would immediately slide it back into my hands. I didn't even think he wrote anything until I opened it again. This time, his handwriting was perfectly placed, almost as if it was typed.

Yes.

I tuck the paper in my jacket pocket, I'll put it in my drawer with the rest when I get home. I feel bad about throwing them away, so they sit in my bedside table, its not like anyone would ever go into my room and find them anyway. Sometimes, I like to read over them before I go on patrol. It reminds me of our conversation at the warehouse. One where I'm not as alone as I think I am.

Yet the nervous tapping of Wally's pencil brings me back to the class. He taps it ten times before flipping the pencil back over, continuing to write. No matter what, he seemed to always tap it ten times. In a way, it felt like he knew I zoned off. It was him bringing me back to everything. Even if it wasn't intentional. Wally fidgets a lot when he tries to focus or distract himself, the repetitive movements being a form of comfort.

...

It's Tuesday now, and I'm perched on top of a building in full gear. My phone sits in my hand with Wally's contact staring back at me. I need to text him the work from yesterday. I haven't even said hello yet. Hello is too formal, we are friends, a hey would fit better.

These past two days have been abnormally quiet. His empty seat in class is only a reminder of why he's really gone. I hope he's okay.

FLEETFEET

Hey, it's y/n. Here's the work from yesterday and today. Hope everything is okay in CC

2 attachments sent 11:20 pm

I would sit there for a bit, looking at the screen. Maybe he's already on some sort of mission. Why is texting so stressful? As soon as I started to shut off my phone, it would light back up with his reply.

FLEETFEET

2 attachments seen 11:27 pm

Hey y/n! Central City has

been pretty cool, my Uncle Barry

showed me around his work at Star Labs today. That place is surprisingly

really huge. Thanks for sending

the work.

Seen 11:27 pm

Sooooo wyd?

Seen 11:28 pm

Its almost midnight, he should really go to sleep. I should really start patrol. This really isn't a good idea.

Nothing much hbu? just watching

traffic go by. I swear I've seen three

crashes in the span of two

hours ppl r wild.

Seen 11:31 pm

Dude you should see it here.

Traffic is actually so slow it

makes me want

to scream. We sat at a

red light for 4 whole mins.

Seen 11:31 pm

Oh. My. God. 4 whole mins?!1!

How can they do that to you!

Don't they know who you are!!!

Seen 11:33 pm

The hottest guy alive thats who.

Seen 11:34

I couldn't help but laugh at his statement. Typing back a quick 'pls lol' before turning off my phone. It was getting too late I needed to start. I wish he was here, sometimes I could get a glance of the yellow and red highlight speeding by back home, on this road, about this time. He never worked late at night. That was more left up for the other heros, ones like me. I look to the streets, the dim lights from the lamps only shone back with a faint glow. No streak of color to be seen, but a part of me hoped it would still apear.

My night was full of stopping petty crimes, luckily I didn't have to go against any metahumans, but still like any other night everything would start to hurt after a certain threshold. Inbeetween threats I would find myself checking to see if Wally had kept our conversation going.

He did.

Until 4 am.

He was asking me mostly about myself, which was weird in a way. But in another, it made sense. The questions were more deep then anything since he already had asked the basic getting to know each other questions months ago. In the end, though, he stopped the conversation telling me to head to sleep, as I had school in the morning. Which was true. Even after patrol, I was still texting him from the comfort of my home, but I would eventually listen, heading to get some rest.

The week would continue the same as the night before. I was sending Wally the work and him dragging on our conversation throughout the night, but never long enough for the sun to rise the next day. On Saturday was when one of his messages caught me by surprise.

FLEETFEET

Are you free to call?

Seen 1:12 am

Before I could even protest how that could be a bad idea or how that might reveal who I was, his contact was flashing onto my screen along with his picture. I place the phone to my ear and answer it. I hoped the interstate couldn't be audible up from here.

"I told you shes not going to- hey! Hey..."

Wally's voice picks up on the other line, he seems to be in some sort of living room, as the hum of a television can be heard in the background as well as someone else having a conversation.

"Hey Walls? What's up?" My voice sounded strained from not speaking for hours, I hoped Wally couldn't tell. "Oh, um, I was just wondering about some of the work you sent me. Like you took the photos of the work perfectly okay, but in the background, I saw something." At the word something, his voice would slightly jump.

Did I leave my equipment in a photo? was my reflection shown? Was it something he wasn't supposed to see?

"Yeah It's-It's going to sound really stupid. What... what were those papers spread out on your bed?" Oh. Ohhhhh no. The notes, I left out his notes on my bed. I must have got some of them into the frame. I quickly opened out a chat to the last photo. There they were. Luckily, they were not in focus, so he couldn't really tell what they said, but still. There they were.

His voice would start up again after my second of silence. "Are they really swamping you with that much work?" "Yeah, yeah. My other class, a big final its uh its is coming up, so I was studying the notes." I let out a sigh of relief. "But that's not your handwriting? It actually kind of looks like-"

"Wally, I have to go. I'll see you Monday at school."

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

That was terrible. He would never let me live that down if I told him I was keeping such things. That even more was embarrassing, I have to explain why I had to go. And I have until Monday for these excuses. Which is technically tomorrow. Fun.

...

I was saved. I got called into a mission before school at Mt. Justice. Even though Wally would be there, y/n technically wouldn't. When I arrived, he was already in costume talking to Megan about something. He still did the thing with his hands while he spoke. Making his statements larger than life and thoroughly exaggerated. "I just don't know what to do. I trust her more than anything, I wish she would just tell me. It's not like im going to judge her. She knows that. I mean, you heard the conversation. "

His back was turned to me, so I couldn't see his face while he went on. Although I knew what he was talking about. "Hey Megan. Hey Wally." I waved at the two while I walked past them to the kitchen. "H/n! You're a girl. I need advice. What do I do when my friend is keeping stuff from me." I would stop and slowly turn around to his pleading gaze. "Walls, aren't you keeping stuff from her? You have to trust her in that sort of regard. Give her time to open up."

"Thats...Fair." Wally would drop himself back to normal as my words got through to him. "Besides, it took me a while to realize I trusted you." Both in and out of costume. I do. I trust him more than anything. More than anyone.

So I should have told him. He said he wasn't going to judge me, and I know he wouldn't have. I let my emotions get the better of me at the moment, If he asks again, I'll tell him the truth. No matter what.

...

The mission went by with a breeze, the biggest threat being now as Robin sent Wally falling towards me at full speed. I ended up catching the both of us before he could send us tumbling over a building. I held us there for a while, my arms wrapped around him in a hug. He just looked at me. His heightened breathing trailed my neck as he grasped onto my arms. He didn't admit it, but he was scared, I was too. Fifteen stories were a lot to fall from.

The other heroes, as well as criminals, paid us no attention, too occupied in their own fights, as I held Wally at the edge of the roof. One of my feet hanging halfway off. I was closer to falling than he was. My back was to the city.

"Hey, h/n." Was all he said as his face began to knowticablely regain too much color. "Hey West." Wally would move his head to rest in the crook of my neck as he tried to calm his rapid breathing. He told me late at night over text one time he was scared of heights.

As I started to try to move us back away from the edge, Wally would only plant himself in my hold even more. I needed to help him snap back into the situation. Before he messed up and tipped us over.

"Wally. You've never asked me who I am before." Trust. He needs to trust me. "Be...Bec..Cause! You're not comfortable... ye-yet." Inbeetween words, he would let out large audible gasping. "You won't judge me, right?" He shook his head side to side, keeping his eyes remained shut. I would let out a sigh of my own.

"I trust you. Kid Flash, I need you to trust me. Not only as h/n but as y/n. y/n l/n. The one who's going to get you off this roof. Back to the ground floor."

#wally west x reader #wally west #young justice x reader #young justice imagines #young justice #kid flash #kid flash x reader

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kitorin · 8 months

Text

LOVE ALL PLAY. - ITOSHI RIN

ONE - NEW FOUND IRRITATION

a/n. their ages are not canon compliant, dialogue heavy and a bit of nsfw (it's just shidou being shidou and it's not explicit)

"It's my win."

It's not the first time Rin has a brief thought of murder, but this time he genuinely feels like wrapping his hands around this person's neck.

He was already in a foul mood, summer's cruelty had his sweat soaked uniform clinging onto his body, and Ego's insistence on training so hard had already ruined his morning.

All that he could tolerate, but a stranger interrupting his practice?

"Who is that?" Isagi approaches Rin from behind, poking the back of his shoulder to grasp his attention. "You know him?" No, but Rin doesn't need to recognise them to understand that they're a nuisance.

"y/n! Get back inside..." A cyan haired boy with similar coloured eyes runs out on the field, light hearted but tired disappointment laced in their tone. "What are you even doing? Isn't the soccer team training right now?"

'y/n' paid no attention to their exasperation, nor how everyone seemed to be staring and listening to the conversation with great confusion.

"I wanted to say hi to Anri." Rin notices the first person address, you must've been close to Teieri to speak about her so casually. "Hiori don't be so uptight—"

"Then don't lie, I saw you running with them. At least be honest if you're going to mess around." Hiori grabs the collar of your sports uniform, earning a breathless choke as he drags you to the school building. Something in his tone suggests that this isn't the first time he has to deal with your behaviour; either the way he scolds you or the exasperated sigh that seems to accompany every sentence.

"Ow, Hiorin please—"

Your pleas only add to the brewing chaos, Bachira seems well entertained and Otoya looks like he's about to hit on you. Chigiri and Yukimiya chuckle at the whole ordeal, as they watch Hiori murmur embarrassed apologises, hurriedly bowing at everyone so he could immediately leave.

"What the hell was that?" Rin's frustration irritates him to the point he speaks his thoughts out loud, annoyance contributes to the heat in his face from the brutal summer.

Shidou leans onto Rin's shoulder, seemingly unfazed from the overwhelming weather and training. He yawns; one out of boredom rather than fatigue. "Finally someone interesting, they seem cool. Befriending them would be fun, no?"

"I hope I never see that idiot again." As always, Rin disagrees with him, and as per usual, Shidou laughs it off.

Isagi. Kunigami. Bachira.

They were the only ones in he knew in his class. He wasn't going to study or heed mind to whatever the teacher would talk about, but he'd at least like to have someone he can pass time with; whether it be discussing future strategies or simply complaining about class together.

Kunigami was the most ideal. Bachira is talkative but at least he doesn't insist a rivalry and constantly praise Rin. There's always a possibility that it's someone outside of his team, in fact it's more likely than not. At least majority of the team (the particularly annoying ones) was older than him; he didn't have to deal with Shidou thirsting over his brother, or watch Otoya hit on every person in his class.

Rin had reminded himself, multiple times, that it can't be that bad. It's simply a desk mate, it's not a requirement for him to befriend them, and if he leaves them alone so will they.

Yet he finds himself absolutely repulsed, and tempted to never return to school again.

"Oh, it's you again!" Unfortunately. Of course you leave him no option but to continue the conversation.

"Ew." Rin brings out his textbooks, despite knowing damn well he'll end up day dreaming throughout the entirety of class.

"You still upset about losing to me this morning?"

"I don't lose."

"I stayed ahead of you for an entire lap while I was there."

"It was one lap. All you did was interrupt practice."

"You still lost." Little shit. You rest your chin on your palm, gazing at him. "Please take care of me, it'll be boring here."

It's not a bad seat, at the very back, right next to the window (your side of the desk). Being off task and remaining unnoticed was easy, and there was the pale blue to admire whenever Rin pleased. Though he's not sure if the beauty of the sky is worth dealing with you.

"Doesn't count. I was training all morning."

"So was I."

"Indoors. You have the privileges of air conditioning." Rin recalls every club indoors; basketball, judo, and badminton. He knows it's not basketball because you weren't there when he met Rukawa. If it were judo you would've been wearing a different uniform to him. Which left badminton as the last option (not that it matters).

You don't yield. "Coach says no to air con anyways. Summer indoors without ventilation is worse."

"Not my problem. Badminton courts are miniature. Practically non existent in comparison to the field." Rin grows impatient, he's waiting for you to get bored and stay silent.

"How did you know I play badminton? Am I that popular already?" You cup your face and give him doe eyes; resembling the expression Bachira makes whenever he pleads. "You want my number?"

It takes a lot not to let out another 'ew'. "Of course n—"

"Itoshi." The teacher scolds, pausing the lesson as all eyes turn to the two of you at the back. Their livid authority silences the both of you. "Stop talking before I send you out in the corridor."

Rin opens his mouth to defend himself, to tell the teacher that you started the conversation. But it's too late, as they face the blackboard and resume the lesson.

"Yeah, Itoshi." You whisper, shit eating grin and mischief dancing in your eyes. You turn to your workbook before he can respond, acting as if you never spoke to him in the first place.

Rin's not sure if he'll survive the school year.

Today seemed to be getting worse by every second.

The moment the bell rang, Rin found himself sprinting out of the classroom, rushing past Isagi despite having the same destination of after school practice. The hours of the school day had felt like years instead, freedom felt like an eternity ago.

He can't help it when he was trapped with you, stuck at the back of the classroom with your random yet irritating conversations; even when he doesn't respond he still keeps getting scolded, he never misses the way you stifle a laugh with a trembling hand.

Rin had hoped after school practice would take his mind off things, yet he found everyone seated together on the field, distress evident within the atmosphere.

"The hell is going on here?" Rin's callous tone contrasts the rest of the group. Bachira and Isagi catch up to Rin, approaching him from behind; equally confused, though in a less aggressive manner. "Where's Ego?"

"He said something came up, so Reo and Nagi ditched." Kunigami responds, eyes wide with what seems to be stressed. "Either way, we're fucked. Like really badly."

Rin hasn't known Kunigami for long, but anyone can tell that he's resilient; body building takes great discipline and patience, and he doesn't cower in the face of challenge.

"What's wrong, Kunigamikinnikun? If it's us then nothing will be too hard." Silently, Rin agrees with Bachira's optimism. In middle school he defeated the top school in the district despite having such a lousy team. This time everyone's dedicated to the sport and his teammates are all capable.

"No— Bachira you don't get it—"

Shidou chokes back a laugh, so does Karasu and Otoya.

"It feels weird seeing Kunigami like this..." Isagi places his bag down and joins everyone on the ground. Bachira and Rin mimic the action. "So, what happened?"

With a sigh, Chigiri explains, "Our seniors just told us that we have to do somewhat well in school to participate in competitions."

"That's fine. Just pass art and PE." Isagi shrugs. "I'm sure you'll get it if you study a bit."

Chigiri's hand goes on Isagi's shoulder. "No, we have to pass everything. Otherwise no soccer for us."

"Really...?" Isagi looks like he's just been stabbed. "Never mind, Kunigami we are so screwed."

Shidou bites back another laugh, to the point he's beginning to shake with amusement. Karasu and Otoya don't even bother concealing their entertainment.

"Are you serious?" This was a genuine issue; Rin had the advantage of being bilingual but that only handles one subject. He hasn't paid any attention in class ever since primary, let alone have any comprehension of what the curriculum was like this term.

Shidou's eyes remain glued to Chigiri's attempts to console the other first years and Yukimiya trying to (politely) silence Otoya and Karasu's teasing. "Yeah. We're all just here for because it's our local high school, but it happens to care about academics."

"Then how did you participate in competitions?" Surely if Shidou could pass, then so could Rin.

Shidou shrugs "I'm good at biology. Science in general too."

"Highly doubt it."

"Shall I explain to you how babies are made?"

"No."

His refusal goes ignored. "When mummy and daddy love each other very much— it's different for me and your brother though, shall I explain that instead—?"

Rin objects; standing up and escaping Shidou's peculiar obsession with Sae, if only he could've went to school with his mother's surname instead.

"You'll be okay, it's not that hard." Yukimiya attempts to comfort Bachira and Isagi, who were still sulking over the bad news. "If I can do it, so can you. Even Shidou senpai could do it, multiple times."

Isagi has his head in his hands, seated at the bus stop next to Bachira. "Not everyone is a genius Yukimiya senpai. I don't even want to consider Shidou senpai human." That, Rin could agree with.

Practice today had gone well, surprisingly, even if there were multiple arguments and Rin almost found himself tempted to fistfight Shidou. But the adrenaline of soccer soon wore off, and now Isagi and Bachira were back to brooding.

Yukimiya doesn't give up comforting them. "I'm not a genius, just thirty minutes a day after school, revise everything you learnt in class."

"How am I supposed to do that—? I don't even remember what I ate for breakfast today." Bachira sounds like he's on the brink of insanity, in a miserable context rather than the usual energetic one.

Rin notices the sigh Yukimiya holds back. "Then 30 minutes of reading, it's a good start and your vocabulary will improve, whether it be fiction or non fiction. I'll recommend you a few, and lend you them."

"Yukimiya senpai." For once, Bachira sounds solemn.

"Yes?"

"How long is a full soccer match?"

"An hour and a half— ninety minutes."

"Exactly. Thirty minutes is a quarter of that—"

"Third. If it were a quarter it'd be a hundred and twenty minutes." Rin wasn't initially involved in the conversation, but he physically can't take hearing everything anymore; internally he's begging for the bus to hurry up; to get him home as soon as possible so he can start researching study schedules and compose one of his own.

His mother had gently asked him to try and think more positively throughout his time as a high schooler, he wanted to take her advice seriously, he really wanted to; but that's such a difficult task with how disorganised everything seemed to be.

Isagi pats Bachira on the back. "Working on your times tables is probably better. Not even I would get that wrong."

"Everyone says math is hard, including the smart kids, they make mistakes too—"

"Bachira, it's basic math."

"If you're struggling because of small mistakes then maybe practice exams will help you reduce them...?" It's impressive how Yukimiya hasn't given up yet.

Rin scoffs. "Don't bother, we've already devised strategies without him. I doubt we'll need him anyways."

"And this is why Sae is the better Itoshi."

Yeah, Rin hates high school.

MASTERLIST | TWO

pairing. itoshi rin x reader

synopsis. all itoshi rin ever wanted was a peaceful high school career, his plans go to ruin thanks to the school's badminton genius; entangling their lives— and emotions together.

contents. rivals to lovers, badminton player!reader, sports romance, fluff, high school au

taglist. @yuzurins, @silly-ez, @chigirizzz, @kaiserkisser, @h4nman, @yoimyas, @saetorinrin, @hxniplayz, @certaindreampost, @rroxii, @jar-03, @celestair, @satoruskitchenrag, @kaitfae — bold means i cannot tag you

161 notes · View notes

inknopewetrust · 2 years

Text

Oh, Baby, it’s Halloween

Summary: you and Eddie raise a baby… only you’re not a couple and the baby isn’t real… and now Tina’s Halloween party changes the trajectory of your lives forever. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader [WC: 10k] Warnings: language, discussion of drugs, idiots in love, you all have been too kind which makes me nervous to post this. Quick Links: Masterlist | Part One | Part Two

“What about this one?”

From the other end of the rack, Gareth held up a pair of pants high above his head. Eddie took in the look carefully before shaking his own.

“No holes, remember? I literally just said that like a second ago.”

Who knew picking out clothes for Halloween would be so hard?

“I don’t know why you even have to dress up. Most of the guys will just throw on a leather jacket and call it a day. Greasers from the fuckin’ Outsiders or some shit,” Gareth mumbled as he put the pants back in the lineup of the other hundred pairs on the rack.

Hawkins thrift had a hefty supply of men’s pants with and without holes because the rich and fortunate changed fashion quickly.

Small blessings for those living paycheck to paycheck.

“That’s practically what I wear every day,” Eddie sighed, sifting through the opposite end where a pair of Levi’s in vomit green disgusted him. “And I just have to look the part, alright? It’s one night.”

“Look the part,” his friend snorted, “you’re just trying to impress her. You could wear a potato sack and if she liked you in that, impressing her would be the least of your problems.”

“Is that so bad?” Eddie stopped browsing and stared down at Gareth.

“What? Trying to impress her?”

“Yes,” Eddie answered bluntly causing Gareth to breath in deeply.

To Gareth, no, it wasn’t a bad thing. High school was a zoo and for freaks like Eddie and himself everything was like walking in a glass cage. They were oddities; stickers on pristine windows that said ‘kick me’ and ‘dunce.’ He figured long ago that happiness was something not given or sought, but uncovered from personal discovery and self-preservation.

Eddie walked a tightrope.

One week ago he was assigned a partner that Gareth had passed in the hallway intermittently and thought, ‘oh, she’s cute,’ but Eddie never mentioned her. He didn’t talk about girls the way the jocks or preps talked about them; he didn’t ogle often at the cheerleaders in their little skirts because Eddie’s doctrine told him it was rude—even if he was as hormonal as the rest. He harbored those feelings like a scared little boy and now here he was, with Gareth in Hawkins’ only thrift store, trying to find the perfect pieces for a Halloween costume on a Thursday afternoon for one girl.

Gareth wanted Eddie to be happy. The curly-haired sophomore just didn’t trust people to not play a game with his best friend. He didn’t want to see the person he looked up to most be the laughing stock of high school because he fell head over heels for you.

“No,” he answered honestly, “it’s not a bad thing. I mean,” Gareth snorted, “if Katie Yang told me tomorrow she loved me, I would run off in the sunset with her and never return.”

Eddie barked a laugh. It would never happen. He was pretty sure his fellow senior member of Hellfire swung a very different way—but he couldn’t let Gareth’s dreams of marrying her falter. It would make Gareth too sad to even participate in Eddie’s campaigns.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie went back to searching, “she’s my Katie Yang.”

“How about these then?” Gareth held up another pair and for what Eddie needed them for, they were perfect. He left his spot at the end of the rack, snatching them from his friend's hands and grinned.

“Perfect.”

“Click got me with a pop quiz today,” Nancy whined as she leaned against your locker early Friday afternoon. She had her chin tucked against her chemistry textbook and trapper keeper.

“I don’t know anything about the War of 1812!”

“Does anyone know anything about the war of 1812?” You countered yet her disappointed face did not lift. Yes, some kids knew what had taken place but Nancy missed the lesson. She missed the lesson yesterday because all she was thinking about was how the relationship between herself and Steve was bullshit.

Bullshit. The exact word that you had used to describe it before Eddie swept you away.

“Linda Fischer did! And that Buckley girl that plays the trumpet? She knew all about it; answered nearly every question when it was over.”

“Maybe it’s because they have no life and just study all the time?”

Nancy scoffed, “I study all the time too and look where that got me.”

“It’s just one quiz, Nance,” you swapped your red calculus notebook for the blue history one. Bilbo was perched inside of your locker as you went about collecting your things for the next hour. “I don’t think your grade will suffer.”

Steve’s booming laughter echoed in the hallway.

“Doubt it,” Nancy muttered bitterly as the clang of lockers being hit sounded behind her. Steve smiled radiantly as he tossed a baseball in his hand—it was October, in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere Indiana, and he still managed to find and toss a baseball for fun.

“Doubt what?” He smacked his gum loudly as Nancy turned to copy the way he leaned against the lockers beside yours.

“Click’s pop quiz on the War of 1812,” you cut in before Nancy could. Everyone was required to take Junior American History and everyone remembered that pop quiz well… simply because everyone failed it.

“Oo,” Steve scrunched his nose, “Click is one haggard old broad, isn’t she?”

“The most haggard,” Nancy sighed. Steve peered over her shoulder and tipped his head at Bilbo.

“How’s the baby?”

“Baby is doing just fine, Steve. Just fine.”

“Yeah, mine too,” he winked as if what you said was a joke when it was far from it. Bilbo had mellowed out quite well, actually. It felt like a glitch in the system in many ways but the doll barely made a noise anymore. Two or three tantrums a day made life with Bilbo Munson-L/n a breeze.

“And Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? What’s he like as a partner?” Steve questioned, “you seem to get on well.”

“Why? Because I’m nice to him?”

“I’m nice to him!” He took your words defensively, “doesn’t mean he isn’t a freak.”

“He’s a good partner, great, even. And you are not nice to him. Last year, you and Tommy would shoot spitballs at Hellfire every day until Higgins told you to stop.”

“That was Tommy’s idea.” He still went along with it. The amusement Steve still felt from the prank made your stomach turn.

“Eddie’s actually trying. We’re doing rather well I’d like to think.”

“Tell that to Tammy and Greg when he didn’t do his project in O’Donnell’s last spring. He nearly cost them their own grades.”

“Well,” you gripped the door to your locker. As you did, your thumb grazed that picture of you and the boys as Star Wars characters a few Halloween’s back. “O’Donnell’s a bitch. She has it out for everyone.”

That’s exactly what Eddie had told you.

“Yeah, right,” Steve said in disbelief, “he put you up to this? Makin’ everyone believe he’s actually gonna graduate on time like the rest of us?”

“Steve,” you huffed. He was angry he wasn’t succeeding at project parenthood and you and Eddie were. The fact that he and Nancy had barely spoken two sentences to each other that entire week also increased his belligerence.

“We’re all managing the best we can. Eddie’s a good partner. It surprised me too but here we are, almost done, and he’s done nothing but stay true to his word.”

Well, mostly. You tried to forget about the school day on Wednesday.

“He giving you free weed or something to get him a good grade? I heard he’s gonna deal the party which means it’s only gonna be fun for an hour before everyone is high and annoying.”

“Hey,” Nancy narrowed her eyes at Steve, “why is everything a deal? If she says he’s a good partner, then he’s a good partner. End of story.”

“So, you’re defending Munson now too?” He rose his eyebrows high beneath his three strands of hair that fell onto his forehead. “Jesus… it’s the literal apocalypse. Apocalypse!”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Done with Steve’s antics, Nancy turned her body away from Steve and back to how she was originally standing. Inside, her mind was fighting every physical urge to apologize and revert back to her timid self of one year ago.

But she could feel the way your demeanor changed when Steve began cutting on Eddie. You were her friend—best friend—and Nancy Wheeler would be dammed if her boyfriend was going to make you feel that way.

Steve was growing. However, he was far from perfect.

“Nance, come on…” Steve complained as he rested his head on her shoulder. She ignored him the best she could at the moment.

“Are you going to the game tonight? Last one for the year,” football game. Nancy’s wide eyes were hopeful that she wouldn’t be stuck standing by a wild Steve and the popular kids she didn’t like.

“No,” you shook your head, grabbing Bilbo out of the locker and shutting it. “I’ve got Bilbo and I have to study for that Spanish test from last week when I get home.”

“You had Bilbo yesterday! What happened to Eddie doing his fair share?”

“He has Hellfire tonight and when we went through our plans, I told him I would take the doll when he had his club. He swapped Sunday so if you aren’t hungover from the party, we can get breakfast or something.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Nancy’s waist, pulling her tightly against him as she breathed out heavily.

“Fine,” she grumbled, “but you’re picking up the tab.”

“You’re really going to study for a Spanish test on a Friday night?” Steve asked, brow quirked and judgmental.

“Tell me, Steve,” you shut your locker, “with Halloween and all of my other homework on Sunday, when would I have time to study for the test? Some of us do study and I know that might surprise you.”

“Ouch,” he winced, pouting as Nancy tried to wiggle from his grasp, “You’re being mean. I blame Munson. He’s corrupting you.”

“Blame away,” you began walking backwards from the two lovers as the clock ticked rapidly toward the end of passing period. “I rather like the person I’m turning into.”

“Have you thought about your costume yet?”

As you stepped out of Clay’s calculus class, Eddie snatched the homework (that the teacher had been passing out not a moment before) from your hands.

He had left Click’s history class five minutes early to catch you before Nancy drove you home. To make frivolous conversation, he asked about calculus and joked about you getting a tutor which left him burned when you told him he should get a tutor too—for all of his classes.

A few hours earlier, he had seen Nancy and Steve snug as a bug beside your locker as the hair’s arrogant attitude turned two faces sour. Eddie had observed it in passing; walking out of the lunchroom with the rest of the Hellfire members he shared it with only to pass your locker without you noticing because the two lovebirds held your attention.

The look on your face then was different than it was now. Relaxed, gratified. Another week was completed and Halloween was tomorrow.

“So…?” You waved a hand in front of his face. Eddie was staring into space; the kind where you don’t realize it because your thoughts are running either a million miles per second or not moving at all.

“Hm?” He asked, standing a bit straighter after realizing he hadn’t answered your question.

“Have you thought about your Halloween costume yet?” You questioned again as you slipped another notebook into your backpack.

“Got it yesterday, actually,” Eddie’s grin made your stomach flutter. He had that devilish smirk that made the football players angry as he stood on tables and jeered at their dull ignorance of being jocks.

“And it is what?”

“A surprise,” his eyes flicked to the pictures in your locker and this time, you caught him looking. Backing up a bit, the hand that wasn’t holding your backpack by its handle traced the edges of the pictures and plucked them off one by one from their spots.

“This one is from the Fourth of July last year,” you motioned for Eddie to take it and he did. “Nancy’s mom had us take all the kids to the fireworks at the fairgrounds.”

“Ah, the fireworks,” Eddie recalled, “pretty sure last year I graffitied Mayor Kline’s garage door the same time those were going on.”

“You didn’t,” you put the other picture in your hand up to your lips, hiding your mouth in bewilderment that he would openly admit to that. That shit made the news.

“Oh, but I did,” Eddie declared in a whispered excitement. The way he scrunched his nose at your disbelief made you beam from underneath the picture. “In big fat letters: if you repeat a lie enough, it becomes the truth.”

“In protest of Kline’s decision to build that mall? He was going to sell Forest Hill’s land, right?” You removed the picture from your mouth as the reality of his act of political artistic expression came to full realization. Eddie didn’t do things like that just to get a rise out of people. He did it because he hated the guy and without protest, who knew where he would be living at the moment.

“Yes, ma’am,” he held his chin out proudly, “saved the people of the trailer park. Local hero and all…” he boasted with a smile before handing back the first picture.

“So, you and Wheeler have been friends for a bit?”

“Since we were little,” you nodded your head and stuck that picture back onto the metal locker. Eddie took the second one you offered. “Our parents went to school together and I guess they’re not in the same tax bracket anymore but Karen Wheeler and my mom still get together every Sunday to talk shit about Nancy’s dad.”

“Not yours?” Eddie snickered.

“No,” you dropped your backpack on the ground and faced him fully, “my parents get along just fine. But these little dweebs,” you pointed your finger at the boys in the photo, “are the same ones from the car the other day.”

“This one,” he pointed to Mike, “is Wheeler’s brother.”

“Mike,” you gave him an ‘uh-huh,’ “and this here is Will Byers—who I don’t babysit,” you looked up at him, “and these two… these two are the worst offenders of them all.”

Eddie hardly doubted that. Two cheeky smiles hanging onto your shoulders as your arms wrapped around theirs. A curly haired Han Solo and a grinning Luke Skywalker.

“Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair. I’ve babysat them since I was like… eight.”

“You’re good with kids then?” He quirked a brow, genuinely asking.

Every second he could spend getting to know you better he grasped tightly.

“I guess,” he looked back at the picture and saw the joy on those kids faces. They were happy to be there; they were happy to be in your presence and he couldn’t blame them in the slightest. “It’s as good as a job as any but I don’t know if I’ll ever want my own. Maybe if the right circumstances present themselves I’ll change my mind.”

“But they’ve got nothing on Bilbo, right?”

“Oh, no,” you laughed and grabbed the picture back, “Bilbo runs circles around them. Doesn’t talk back, does his homework on time…”

“Are you going to bring Bilbo to Tina’s? Not really sure Sandra Dee would be seen carrying a baby.”

“My dad offered to make sure any tantrums would be dealt with. We are free to live our lives as childless parents,” you joked and Eddie imagined this Halloween but also a hundred more. “You can pick him up when you drop me off.”

Childless or not. A part of him couldn’t imagine it without you.

“You have,” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes darting around the hallway before landing back to you, “you have really nice parents, by the way.”

“Thanks,” taken aback by his honesty, “I mean, I think they’re just like everyone else’s but yeah, I guess they’re nice.”

“Not everyone’s parents would have let me stay at their house all afternoon,” he shoved his hands into his jacket’s pockets and leaned against the lockers with a slouch. “Some of us drew the short straw in that department.”

Eddie never talked about his home life. You knew of Wayne because he worked at the plant with your dad, but no one ever really talked about it. In sixth grade, he was out for a week because his mom died. The teacher passed around a card for you all to sign yet no one said a word when he returned.

“Well,” you shrugged to pretend it wasn’t as heavy as it seemed, “the families we’re given don’t have to be the ones we choose. These kids,” you pointed to the picture you just put back, “are my family even if we don’t share any blood.”

“You know,” Eddie gazed at you with tender eyes that you wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t in tune with your own emotions. “You’re a little too smart for your own good.”

You laughed, grinning from ear to ear as you leaned down to grab your backpack again. “Not at math, though.”

“No,” Eddie shook his head. He ducked his head, feeling the heat creep onto his neck until it found its way on his cheeks. His hair hid what you couldn’t see. You grabbed your science textbook and Bilbo before closing your locker. When he willed the tint away, he watched the way you adjusted the bag on your shoulders with one hand as you held Bilbo in the other.

“I guess not math.”

“I’d rather have the emotional intelligence anyway,” tossing your head in the direction of the door, Eddie animatedly sprung himself from the lockers and back into the emptying hallway. Two cheerleaders nearly ran into him and he lifted his arms like he had been caught for murder.

Emotional intelligence. If you had stronger, clearer emotional intelligence you would have taken the initiative to ask Eddie out. You would have realized your crush on him was firm and unyielding enough to warrant an actual date.

But the “not date, date” of Tina’s Halloween party loitered between the two of you. Neither had mentioned the “not date” besides the costumes you were going to wear that wouldn’t match.

As you navigated the halls together to exit the building, Eddie walked beside you and every so often, his arm would brush yours. Not on accident.

“Dustin and those kids, they’re in middle school?”

“Eighth graders…” just the thought that next fall they’d be in high school made you feel really old. “They’ll be coming here next year.”

“I’ll have to tell Gareth about them,” he said, “maybe when I’m gone he can recruit them for Hellfire.”

“You gonna graduate on time, Munson?” You smiled, knocking your shoulder into the arm that kept grazing you. As dramatically as Eddie could, he stumbled and rubbed his arm like it hurt.

“That’s offensive, you know that?” He feigned insult. “If I don’t, I’ll just welcome them myself. The lost sheepies are the ones that are easiest to catch.”

“Lost sheepies,” you repeated softly. Eddie pattered his way back beside you.

“They’d probably like you a lot,” you told him when he returned. “Will would take a minute to warm up to you but I think Dustin would cling to you. He likes the… weird ones.”

“First I’m not gonna graduate on time and now I’m weird?” Eddie threw his head back. “You’re killin’ me today with this defamation.”

Defamation. ‘Where the hell did that come from,’ Eddie thought to himself.

“I don’t think you being weird is a bad thing, Eddie,” Eddie. Not Munson or anything else. It was something he’d never tire of hearing. “You just embrace it. Weird is cool—even if Billy or Tammy or Carol don’t think so.”

“You’re pretty weird yourself, mama.”

The end of the hallway was quickly approaching and Eddie jogged forward, opening the door for you and holding open.

“Thanks,” you told him, “for both the… compliment and the door.”

“It’s what fellow weirdos do for each other,” at the end of the walkway, Eddie realized he was going in one direction and you the other.

The end of Friday had been reached. Only the Halloween party was left.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?” He asked as if the answer wasn’t clear. You nodded, head giving an enthusiastic bob you’d be thinking over later.

“How will I know what to look for if you don’t tell me what your going as?” You shouted as he walked toward his van. There wasn’t a part of you that cared what other people thought anymore.

Carol and Billy get fucked. There was only one life you’d remember and you’d be dammed if Eddie wasn’t a part of it in some way.

“Don’t worry, mama,” he turned around and kept walking backwards. A smirk playing on lips like it always belonged there. “You’ll recognize me.”

“Okay,” Nancy came trotting back into her room from her mother’s closet, “here,” she tossed a small red scarf into your lap as you sat on her bed.

“What’s this?”

“The ascot I said I’d give you,” she said like it was obvious. Nancy fiddled with the black tie on her shirt in the mirror above her dresser.

“Nance,” you called over to her, catching her eyes, “have you ever seen Grease?”

“Of course I have.”

“Then you’d know that Sandy doesn’t wear an ascot… just red shoes.”

“No,” she objected, “she definitely wears an ascot.”

“Tell that to Olivia Newton-John,” you got up from the bed and went straight to her closet, pulling it open to reveal a small stack of VHS tapes at the bottom. Grease was the fifth one down and on the back, Danny and Sandy at the senior carnival fun house was plastered on the back.

You handed it to her on unsteady legs as the red heels you wore were beginning to become unforgiving. One night, just one night.

“See,” you told her, “no ascot.”

“I swear to God she had one,” Nancy looked in wonder before handing it back to you. “But you’ve got the shirt and leggings and belt. That’s good enough.”

“No jacket though,” you sat back down on her bed.

“Maybe there’s a reason you couldn’t find it,” she giggled to herself like a schoolgirl.

“Oh, yeah?” You questioned. All this dancing around… you didn’t want Monday to arrive and end with Eddie never speaking to you again. Wishing upon a shooting star, whatever confidence you could muster tonight would have to manifest itself into reality.

Project Parenthood was not going to end on your watch without you asking Eddie Munson out on a date.

That was what you came to terms with Friday night.

You just hoped he didn’t think you a fool for believing he might actually say yes. You also didn’t take Eddie to be the kind of guy who’d be embarrassed that a girl asked him out. What if he wanted someone to be forward? What if he liked confidence and strife over classic gender roles being challenged?

The guy was as non-conformist as a person could get.

“Well, maybe Billy Hargrove would lend me his,” you joked and she dropped the tube of mascara she had just picked up back on the dresser.

“Billy Hargrove?” She spoke in a harsh whisper as her hand searched for it again. “What the hell—“

Nancy took one look at you and saw the mischief all over your face. It was a joke. You were joking. You wouldn’t let Billy Hargrove touch you with a ten foot pole.

“I think if Eddie Munson heard you say that he would keel over.”

“I think if Eddie Munson heard I had a big fat crush on him he’d keel over.”

Nancy thought it was nice to hear you admit that.

“Die from excitement or die from embarrassment?” Nancy laughed as you fell back against the bed. Her pillows sounded a “poof” as you laid against them.

“Hopefully not that latter.”

“I don’t think he would die from embarrassment… if my opinion means anything,” she returned the wand to the tube before sitting down beside your reclined figure on the bed. Nancy took your hand in hers and squeezed it.

“Eddie is the strangest, weirdest person I think I’ve ever laid eyes on but if he can make you happy, then that’s all I want for you.”

“Even after what I said about you and Steve the other day? You still want me to be the one to ride off into a sunset?”

Nancy shrugged, looking down at your hands entwined. “Sometimes the truth is hard to swallow. Maybe Steve just isn’t the one.”

“But he’s the Joel to your Lana.”

“Tonight, yeah,” she sighed, patting your hands with her free one, “but the bullshit has to stop. I just don’t know how to tell him.”

“Nance,” you fidgeted your hand out of hers and sat up on your elbows. Nancy’s room full of cream colors and pinks was juvenile while her experiences and feelings were far from it.

“It’s true though, isn’t it? It’s been two years and sometimes I feel like I don’t know him at all. Where his mind is at, concerns… I try and get him to open up but he just won’t. How am I supposed to be a good girlfriend when all he wants to do is party and hang with friends on the weekend?”

“This has to be your decision,” you told her candidly, “and perhaps after tonight you’ll feel differently.”

“We still on for breakfast tomorrow?” Nancy got up from the bed and went back to her dresser. “That way I can tell you all about it because Eddie’s taking you home.”

“Yeah, we’re still on.”

“And then you can tell me all about how Eddie is actually, surprisingly, a good kisser,” she laughed as you stuffed your head into her pillows.

“You really sound like Barb; you know that?”

“No, no,” Nancy shook her head, putting up a finger in the mirror, “Barb would say, ‘you really think Eddie Munson would be a good boyfriend? Don’t you remember when he hotboxed weed in his van at lunch last year and Chief Hopper had to tape off the parking spot because little kids were accidentally given a second-hand high?’ That’s what she’d say.”

“And then she’d ask if he made it to second base,” you grinned, turning over to stare at her ceiling. “Only to be followed with a very loud ‘eww, I can’t believe you did that!”

“I miss her,” Nancy said fondly, “she wasn’t the biggest fan of Steve but she’d want me to be happy. She’d want you to be happy to so,” she gave you that knowing look, “you’re gonna put on some red lipstick and drink a couple beers and by the time Eddie Munson knows what’s hit him, he’ll be so in love no other girl could compare.”

Overwhelming.

That was the first word that popped into your mind when you thought of the scene around you. It was nine-thirty, there were cars parked sloppily on the grass and students scattered everywhere. The music was blasting from Tina’s stereo so loudly it might burst your eardrum by the time the night is over and it helped none that the one thing you wanted to find was missing—somewhere in the house or the yards but not beside you.

Third wheeling with Steve and Nancy wasn’t fun when they argued on the ride over.

You sat in the back of Steve’s BMW wishing to be sucked into the seat only to never be seen again. Nancy’s attitude shifted from excited to upset and Steve was just being an asshole about the whole “parties are fun and we’re going to stay the entire time” conversation that started the argument. Those feelings lingered when the car parked, when the three of you made it inside, and then when you found yourself stuffed into a corner beside a curio cabinet.

“Oh, God,” Nancy mumbled when Billy Hargrove—alongside Tommy Hagen and the rest of the goons who couldn’t separate themselves from the freshest meat—clocked the three of you standing away from the entry way’s makeshift dance floor. “Don’t start anything,” she told Steve who looked in the direction she stared.

Besides the crushing weight of the party on your shoulders, stepping out of your comfort zone in a Halloween costume that Nancy picked out for you made your hands shake with tension. The confident thoughts of earlier running out of your mind the second everyone started looking at you like a fish out of water. A couple guys whistled, the girls judged. There was no happy medium at a place like this.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington,” Tommy gloated as Billy challenged Steve. He pulled off his sunglasses and Nancy turned around to you.

“Let’s go get a drink, yeah?” She asked with pleading eyes. You glanced at the group of hot-shot boys—their gazes watching you and Nancy like pieces of meat for taking and it made your skin crawl.

“Yeah,” you let Nancy hook her pinky through yours as the two of you trekked past groups of your peers quickly getting drunk and eating scattered snacks in the kitchen. A couple, whom you didn’t know, were swapping tongues beside the stove.

On the counter beside open bottles of booze, a bowl fitted with dry ice and a ruby liquid sat being consumed by a boy in a toga. He chugged a red cup down before filling another one and doing the same. That was ‘pure fuel’ or the one drink that could send anyone to that drunken bliss with so much as a sip. Nancy peered into it like a mysterious lake.

“Do you want any?” She picked up two red solo cups, offering up one for you but you looked around for the fridge instead. Behind you, next to the two making out, the fridge was left cracked open.

“No,” you walked the small space to the fridge and grabbed a cold can of Pabst Blue Ribbon out of it. It was a party; Tina was going to buy the cheapest beer she could. “And I wouldn’t suggest you drink a ton of that either.”

“Why?” Nancy contested, swiping the cup into the bowl. “Aren’t we supposed to have fun? Get drunk and make stupid mistakes while we’re young? Just be stupid teenagers for one night.”

She was still pissed off at Steve.

“If you’re going to drink that,” you cracked open the can in relief when one of your nails didn’t break, “try to know your limit, alright? I don’t want to babysit you over the toilet later.”

“Deal,” she chugged the cup over the bowl as Steve rejoined the two of you. He began protesting her actions immediately and she replied by using his words against him—the same ones he used to argue to stay at the party. Nancy filled her cup again, slammed it, and wiped the excess of her face before leaving the two of you in the dust.

“You say somethin’ to her?” Steve turned to you with an accusatory glare. “She’s been weird all week.”

“She’s been weird or you’ve been ignoring her?” You countered unexpectedly.

“I haven’t been ignoring her.”

“I’ve seen you with Tammy Thompson more times than I can count this week and every day when Nance takes me home, you don’t kiss her goodbye.”

“We’re partners, remember?” Steve scoffed. “You should know that more than anyone. Where is the freak anyway? I can smell the weed; I know he’s here yet he’s not with you…” He was mad too. Steve and Nancy both angry at each other made everyone else in their paths feel the scorching ire of their pain.

“He’s not my date, Steve… He’s my partner, remember?”

Rolling your eyes, you brushed past him and left him in the kitchen alone. A quick escape through the door that led to the backyard let the cool breeze meet your face and the sting of Steve’s words fell from you. It was a rather nice October night. It was just cold enough where jackets could be enjoyed but the Midwestern urge to remain strong in the breeze left many without one. There was a bonfire raging in the back and friend groups scattered on the lawn.

Katie Yang was sitting around the bonfire when her eyes caught the door to Tina’s house open and close.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull—not from the smell of weed surrounding her, but from the fact that Eddie hadn’t been lying.

An hour ago, Eddie rolled up to Tina’s with a backpack full of drugs yet that wasn’t what everyone talked about as the fast murmured rumors made their way through crowds of students like tidal wave. With the three other members of Hellfire that had been invited because they were seniors, the whispers surrounded them first before someone had the will to approach them.

“Shit,” She didn’t know their name, “did you hear about Munson?”

“What about him?” Katie asked them and they threw their head back, hair going a wild as they screeched.

“He’s dressed as fucking Danny Zuko! And not the cool one!”

“Danny Zuko…” Katie trailed off, furrowing her brows as she tried to place the name. “From Grease?”

Eddie was musical, yes, but he didn’t like a ton of musicals.

“You’re joking,” one of the members of Hellfire said before moving through the living room crowd and peeking out through the blinds of the closest window.

“Holy fucking shit!”

He stuck out like a sore thumb. He was wearing the classic all black, tight jeans with a white cardigan sweater embossed with a red ‘R’ sewed into the side. Eddie’s hair was pulled into a ponytail and while he didn’t wear the look often, some of the drunk girls in the yard were ogling him like they’d jump his bones in an instant. When he came inside, the students gawked before realizing their weed had arrived and while they jested with Eddie, their words didn’t hit him. Katie could see the way their words brushed off his shoulder and he kept looking at the door.

So, an hour after that she saw you walk out of Tina’s house dressed as Sandy, Katie had to bite back the first remark that came to mind. She picked a couple blades of grass off the ground as Eddie rolled papers next to her on a tree stump—the glow from the bonfire lighting his work.

“Why’d you decide to go as Danny?” Katie proposed, watching you lean against one of the columns and drink the rancid PBR like it was water.

“Why not?” Eddie replied but focused solely on the ratio of weed to paper in his lap. Every time he put a rolled one down next to him, someone would swipe it, light it, and disappear before he could complain.

“Didn’t take you for a man who’d grovel for a lady, that’s all.”

“I don’t grovel, Yang,” he quipped and she smiled, folding her arms over her bent legs and laying her head on it.

“Besides, you see me crawling now?” Eddie motioned to the papers in his lap. “Little miss Mary Jane is the priority right now.”

“You sure about that?”

Eddie heard the way she crooned, her eyes flicking from his own to the house. His heart skipped a beat. The knowledge that if he looked now, he’d see you there—perhaps not even looking in his direction—but available for him to admire for a time. Since the moment you told him you were going as Sandy, he dreamt, daydreamed, about what you’d look like. How the vision he conjured was nothing compared to the way you’d embrace every part of yourself in an outfit like that.

“I can roll, if you want,” Katie suggested as he contemplated throwing the weed on the ground and forgetting all about it. He did admit once that he’d consider going sober for you. Before he could even object, she took the baggie from beside him and put a hand out for the papers.

“Gareth told me all about it,” she admitted. Eddie couldn’t even be mad. “Go get that girl, Munson. It’s not every day your dreams come true.”

All he could muster was a tight smile for her.

There were a lot of people in the yard. Every face blurred the brighter the fire got; some littered in the grass, others standing, a few on stools or stumps. Your feet were aching as you gripped the banister to relieve the pressure. A half drank PBR clutched in one hand as you stared down at your feet. Eddie sauntered over to the house as you shifted your feet. His quiet steps against the grass not alerting you that he had been sitting in the backyard at all.

Eddie planted himself a foot away from the deck in front of you, swallowing his fears and trying to embody the voice of surprise that mimicked the exact moment in the movie. A little accent, a little bit of the ‘ol greaser swagger.

Just a guy, seeing a girl, and absolutely smitten in the way in which she looks.

“Mama!?”

And only Eddie could get that smile to creep onto your face.

The not date, date was simple.

It had taken you an entire hour to find Eddie on a property no bigger than the Wheeler’s and the moment you heard his ‘surprised’ voice, you knew the evening had changed for the better. For two hours, you sat beside one another and just talked. He talked about his hobbies and joked about his nerdy interests while you detailed your own and he listened as intently as you had for his. In his stupid letterman cardigan and his stupid ponytailed hair, Eddie sat beside you on the deck—backs against the railing as you sat on the wood floor—and admitted that he hadn’t ever planned to wear a costume in the first place.

“So,” you knocked your heeled foot against his converse, “where in the world did you manage to find that sweater?”

“This old thing?” He pulled at the lapels, “I have a bunch of them in my closest. What? You’ve never seen me wear these before?” He lived for the giggle that left your lips. Painted in a candy red, it was hard not to look right at them.

“Oh, yeah,” you faked support for his lie, “all the time, Eddie. It’s your best look obviously.”

“That’s what I said!” Eddie cackled, drawing a can of beer to his lips. “Gareth helped me. His sister used to watch Grease all the time so he had a pretty good idea of what I was looking for.”

“I’ll have to thank him then,” you moved your hands to sit in your lap, fingernails making a small clicking sound as they met before looking over at him.

“Why?”

You leaned your head in as he would have done. “Because he helped you pick out those jeans.”

For a second, Eddie was stunned silent. His lip quirked, eyes sparkling and wide with utter fascination that you had just explicitly flirted with him when he had been planning to make all the moves on Halloween. It was his moment; his situation that he grasped tightly and ran with because if it wasn’t him, he felt it would slip through his fingers.

But you had just given him hope that his feelings may have not been one sided. That your kindness and acceptance of him wasn’t misplaced in pity but instead in attraction.

“Well,” he said lowly, “then I guess I have to thank Wheeler then, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because she told you to dress like this and I think you just walked out of a fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

The surge of butterflies hit your confidence like the wolf blowing down the house made of sticks—wavering for a second before standing tall again. Eddie had a blush dusting his cheeks yet he didn’t hide from you; a tightrope growing thicker for every word shared, every sentiment revealed and accepted.

“I guess I should dress like this all the time?”

Eddie nudged you playfully, appreciating that you reciprocated it and swayed back toward him. “I think I like the way you dress everyday a little bit more.”

“Yeah, me too. Kinda miss those rings… you're not ‘Eddie’ without them. Or the vest, leather jacket… any of it.”

He looked down at his ringless hands only to agree. There was a nakedness to his appearance without them. He had his necklace, but no bracelet, no rings, no chain, no handcuff belt, and it felt different even if it was just a costume.

“I am surprised you chose this Danny to dress up as.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, “I guess it’s ironic for me too.”

“Ironic?” He questioned. “How?”

“When Danny and Sandy realize they like each other,” you spoke carefully to find the right words. From the time you’ve spent with Eddie over the last week and two days, he listened to everything. He remembered much more than he let on and he read people, their emotions, and their words with caution; “they change themselves only to fall back to who they were because no one has to change to be loved.”

“Do you remember when I said you were too smart for your own good?”

You laughed, glancing at him for a second too long before biting your lip. “You don’t have to stop being ‘Eddie’ for people to like you. I’m more than content with Eddie Munson “rockstar” than I am Eddie Munson “letterman Danny Zuko.”

“Wow,” he said, drawing out the word slowly, “did the girl next door just say she liked me?”

Only Eddie would joke about it. And only Eddie could make you feel good about admitting it.

“Well,” he said when he let the thought process through him, “you should know that you don’t have to be “hot girl Sandy” for me to like you either. I am more than content with “head in a book” and “Bilbo’s mama” than I am “leather bound in red heels.” And as he did whenever he wanted to invade your personal space more than sitting close, he leaned in, down to your ear, “but before you run off and never wear this again, indulge me?”

You turned your head at his words. He was so close. The smell of his cologne mixed with two cans of beer, one joint, and three cigarettes right beside you—arms touching, head barely two inches from yours. If this was a fantasy and he had begun the conversation two hours before with one of the most iconic lines from the film, all you would have to do is embody her like Nancy had told you and reply in kind.

Eddie could see the cogs turning in your head. Thoughts on how to go about it racking every part.

“Come on,” he leaned back, scrambling to his feet so quickly he almost knocked over his can. Eddie extended a hand, helping you stand before leading you back to the closest end of the deck. He let go of your hand and held them out in front of him as if telling you to stay before backing away.

“Okay, wait, wait, wait!” Eddie dug into the pocket of his white sweater and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Tapping one from the pack, he held it up as an offering with enthusiastic eyes.

“Trust me, alright?”

You nodded, hands laid out along the railing of the deck on either side. The temptation was biting at him; the way you were effortlessly drawing him in. Closer and closer until he couldn’t breathe because he was so consumed by you that all he needed was one… little… taste.

He lifted his hand toward his face, showing you what he wanted. Eddie had the unlit cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers, pulling it away from his lips untouched.

“Open your mouth a little bit,” he said and watched as you followed his direction with no complaint.

Eddie stepped closer, hand going over your right arm that was outstretched to lift the cigarette toward your lips and inching the filter forward. You watched his eyes drift down, taking in the way your lips looked so different yet all the same coated in that red lipstick.

“You ever smoke before?” He asked lowly; voice an airless buzz against your face.

“Once or twice,” you admitted and he nodded, hair pulled back in a ponytail by a black scrunchie you could barely see. The sounds of Bon Jovi’s Runaway playing loudly around you.

“Then indulge me in this,” he replied as he let the filter land between your lips and let his fingers go. The cigarette teetered there between the red as they held it; Eddie not pulling back as he dug into his pocket again and pulled out a lighter.

“Still alright?”

You hummed around the stick and his knees nearly buckled at the sound. But he had to keep his cool. Eddie had to be suave; Eddie had to be tempting.

His thumb sparked the fire and it burned bright between you. The reflection of the blaze shining in both of your eyes and captivating, if only for a moment, the seconds before the brink.

Eddie held the flame to the other end and when it lit, he backed away quickly. He bit down on his lower lip, nodding for you to do it and briefly, you felt a little ridiculous as the scattered students of Hawkins high disappeared around you. Their presence not important compared to the one dressed as letterman Danny Zuko.

The butt sizzled and flashed its angry red. You had yet to breathe it in. Eyes watching his every gesture as he stood there, waiting expectantly for you to make the move. He made his, you make yours, and then he would have to go again. A game of chess with two idiots in love.

Your demeanor changed when you breathed in the stick for the first time. Once or twice his ass, Eddie thought as you didn’t even lift your hands off the railings to grab it away from your lips—just held it there between them as the smoke escaped from the sides.

‘If he can make you happy, then that’s all I want for you,’ Nancy’s admission playing loudly in your head that balanced the rapid thumping of your heart.

If you hadn’t known Eddie held a candle for you before, the way he was looking at you now was enough. If his admission wasn’t enough, his eyes were. Utterly captivated by the way you stood—confident and seductive. Hip slightly jutted out, your heeled feet helped bend one leg and the image was perfect. Seared into his brain forever as the moment he realized that you were the one in his dreams.

A fantasy where he was the strapping Aragorn—a hero, courageous and strong, with his Arwen—timeless and headstrong, kind and forgiving.

Your eyes broke away from his stare and out to the yard. The cigarette’s smoke left your lips again. Eddie rose both of his hands into a prayer position; fingers meeting and resting against his lips right under his nose. The anticipation was killing him.

In an instant, your eyes returned and what he saw sent him to an early grave. He met his maker and was cast away like Icarus as you adjusted the way your posture presented you from the top of your head, out your fingers, and through your toes.

Sandy to Frenchie to Rizzo be dammed. You embodied something greater than them all and he was lucky enough to be at the receiving end of it.

And then you said it.

You indulged him in a fantasy he didn’t even know he had until you told him what you were going as.

“Tell me about it,” manicured fingers took the cigarette away from your lips and the smoke billowed into the night, “stud.”

And like Sandy does in the film, you dropped the cigarette and put it out with your shoe, arms going back to the decks railing and looking back at Eddie. Checkmate.

However, Eddie couldn’t have you get the checkmate. He couldn’t have you be the one to end up on top when he had been planning this for days. Since the moment he shrieked outside of Gareth’s window that he had a crush on you—fully formed and not a silly grade school one that made him want to tug pigtails and call you names. Eddie shook his head, dropping his hands from their position and drew close. He caged you into that spot and with the permission in your eyes, one of his hands grazed your side.

A brush of knuckles along the fabric of your shirt, belt, then pants, before his palm became certain. Running along the same track his knuckles had just traced before settling on your waist.

“Indulge me one more thing,” Eddie’s breath barely hitched when you rested one hand on the arm he had around you and the other gripped his sweater. He took his other hand and rested it on your jaw, thumb caressing a spot as his fingers gingerly held your head.

“Let me take you out. On a real date where I can bring you flowers,” he smiled the same time you did, “and your dad can tell me to have you home by nine but I’ll have you back at nine-o-five because I can’t stop kissing you in my shitty van.”

You pulled him closer, hand clutching his sweater tightly to keep him to you. “You beat me to it.”

“Yeah, mama?” He smiled, eyes consistently trained on your red lips. “You gonna ask me out?”

“I can’t,” you could barely function with the way your heart leapt, “I’ve already got a date.”

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Yes and are you gonna kiss me, Munson? I don’t think I can—“

Eddie didn’t let you finish. He pressed his lips to yours and you accepted them eagerly. His gentle touch a haven as the deal was sealed. Your hand that rested on his forearm moved to his hair, tugging out the scrunchie because if you were going to kiss Eddie, all of him had to be part of it. He reveled the feeling of your fingers weaving into his hair; lips threatening to grin as he got his girl and you got your boy. Nervousness subsiding, all that was left was the tenderness of being two people in love.

No longer two idiots in love; no longer two fake parenting partners.

But a pair fit like two puzzle pieces made for one another.

And when Mr. Allen collected the dolls on Monday, he revealed that each had a floppy disk inside their plush bodies that recorded the number of tantrums and minutes passed between them until soothed. As it turned out, you and Eddie had the best times in the class and in all of Mr. Allen’s years of teaching, Eddie Munson was the first one to prove him wrong. The ‘A’ on top of his assignment sheet at the end of that week became his most important achievement at the time.

Not because he managed to care for a fake baby, but because in the end, he walked out of the class hand and hand with you knowing that everything—no matter what would happen in his life—would be okay.

[Mario Bonus Round Sound: Oh, Baby, it’s Real]

The early morning sunlight trickled into the room from the breaks in the blinds. Everything was sterile; light woods and itchy fabrics, the bed wasn’t comfortable but it was better than the chair. A bag sat in the corner unzipped and its contents unflatteringly pulled out of it. There were fast food wrappers on a tray table with empty cups sitting on the windowsill ready to be basked in sunlight.

Eddie had never been more tired.

The chaise was a second option because he couldn’t have the bed and he would never ask to have it anyway. The chair had grown increasingly unworthy of his attention after sixteen hours of pacing and sitting, pacing and sitting. He could barely keep his eyes open. The kind of tired that Eddie was feeling made everything sluggish; his body laid out on the green piece of furniture, his hand skimmed the cold tile floor as the sounds of a tile cleaner passed by the closed door.

If someone asked eighteen-year-old Eddie Munson where he thought he’d be at thirty, sitting here, in a hospital in Los Angeles would not be his first assumption.

Mega rockstar? Hot-shot guitarist with the best hair? Those were more probable than this.

But he let the whirring of the machine act as white noise. However, in the life that he wouldn’t trade for anything, quiet never lasted long.

“Mr. Munson?” A hand shook his shoulder, nudging the sleep he wished for into the back of his mind to be dreamt of another time.

“Mr. Munson,” the voice called again. Eddie cracked an eye open and saw the nurse give him a small smile, pity for the obvious tiredness that drooped from his face. “I’m sorry to wake you but there are visitors outside and I didn’t want to bring them in because of…”

She didn’t need to say it. People posing to be friends or family just to get a picture or a story. It was something he had to deal with, yet never got used to. It wasn’t natural nor normal to have to hide pieces of a person’s life because people felt entitled to every piece of them. The price of fame was high; the balance of privacy and publicity was a difficult seesaw.

Eddie sat up, the nurse pulling back and waiting for him at the door. She had seen many people walk through these halls, sit and stay by their partner’s side during the most life changing moment they’d ever have and Eddie was no different than the best of them. As he past the bed, he rubbed a foot covered in a yellow blanket and hospital grade sheets gently before exiting the room.

“I put them in a room down here because they were adamant that they were family,” she told him, her glasses swinging on her scrubs and hair graying at the roots. “One young man was particularly vibrant in his language… Claims he’s her brother but I don’t think they look anything alike.”

Eddie chuckled, squeezing the woman’s shoulder as she pointed to the door that she had huddled them all in. “I think I know exactly who that is actually.”

“If you bring them in the room, have them try to be quiet. You don’t see much silence up here and I’d rather give the opportunity for peaceful rest.”

“Will do,” he said but deep down, he felt that silence wouldn’t last if the gaggle of people he believed to be beyond the door to the other room turned to be true.

“Congratulations again,” she said and left him in the hall.

Eddie could hear the chatter beyond the threshold; bickering and the distinct sound of plastic wrap around flowers and balloons crinkling through the air. His life had changed so much from 1984. Each year more difficult and challenging—unprecedented and terrifying but here he was, an established adult man with his life (sort of) put together. Everything was clicking into place and most of it stemmed from the moment Steve Harrington and a girl named Lisa drew two names out of Mr. Allen’s bowls from home.

He walked through the doorway and saw fifteen smiling, giddy faces beaming back at him with balloons, bags, and flowers in their hands. Dustin was holding a teddy bear, El, Max, and Lucas were carrying bags of food for everyone to eat for lunch.

“Surprise!” They shouted in scattered exclamations of excited cheers.

Eddie had never been so happy to have a family—one of his own and one of his choosing.

Dustin was the first to barrel into him, throwing his arms around Eddie and hugging him tightly. It set off a chain reaction in the room. Arms and bodies squished, Eddie couldn’t tell if it was Hopper, Wayne, or your dad who rubbed the top of his head like he was a dog. Either way, the love was felt; the love was absorbed and it spread further into the hospital than just that little room. Fifteen connected souls bonding over something new.

“Congrats man,” Steve extended a hand, grasping Eddie’s with a firm grip as Robin hung off his shoulder. “Never thought I’d see you like this. But it also confirms that you and Y/n do the deed and I don’t like thinking about that.”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled tiredly. They could see how drained he was. Only the older ones in the room could relate to how Eddie was feeling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be here either.”

“But you know what?” Nancy piped up from beside Steve. “I never had a doubt that you’d be a good dad.”

“Thanks, Wheeler,” hearing that from Nancy meant a lot. Dustin popped up again from beside Nancy, tucking himself in between her and Eddie. He still had that bear clutched in his hands.

“Can we meet him?”

El looked excitedly at him, “can I hold him!?” It was her first time doing something like this.

“Only if you keep your trap closed,” Eddie warned Dustin, face serious as it could be. “That nurse will kick my ass if you throw a rager in there, alright? So keep the volume low…” Eddie stopped, thinking on it for a second. Fifteen people all at once would be like running a race on a Hawkins street with a million other people. “And we’ll go in groups. Grandparents first, then godparents, then everyone else, ‘Kay?”

“Eye-eye captain,” Dustin saluted him but kept on Eddie’s heels as everyone exited the empty room to transition to one with two. The door was left cracked open, the quiet nature of the room wanting to be left undisturbed had to be broken.

They had traveled all this way for this moment.

“Let me go in first,” Eddie told them, the older adults giving him fond smiles because he was taking it as seriously as they hoped he did. Maybe that project parenthood assignment had left a lingering impact on him. Maybe Eddie Munson had just matured into the person he always wished his parents were and wasn’t going to screw it up because life could be unkind sometimes. “I’ll come get you.”

Fifteen people who hailed from Hawkins were left in the hallway as Eddie re-entered the room. He tried to keep his footsteps quiet but in the end, it was useless because the second he turned the small corner that blocked his view of the bed, you were sitting up with the television remote in your hand. Across the way, Grease played silently on the screen.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him as you tried to keep your voice low. “Did something happen?”

Eddie shook his head, walking straight over to the side of the bed where he took your hand, kissing the back of it before rubbing his thumb against the back of it.

“We’ve got a party bus of visitors from Indiana,” he said, looking over you to the plastic bassinet that was positioned beside the bed. Wrapped in a white blanket—in a perfect swaddle—was his little boy. “They’re all waiting outside the door and won’t take no for an answer,” he joked.

“My parents out there? Wayne?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, thumb still running across the back of your hand. “I think your mom has already cried. Her eyes are kind of puffy.”

“Don’t tell her that,” you muttered, taking your own look at the little bundle. On the sticker behind his little head, one last name, un-hyphenated, was written in black ink behind him. One family, one unit.

But his name wasn’t Bilbo.

“Can they come in?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “just tell them to be quiet.”

Eddie smiled at you. Even in his tiredness, he could never hide the joy in his eyes. He was proud, eons beyond it in reality, but you had given him something he’d never dreamed of. A family. He would always have Wayne but now he had your parents, he had the kids, he had friends beyond Corroded Coffin and the people he worked with.

“I love you. You know that right?” He ran his free hand over your forehead, brushing the hair there and bending down to leave a kiss.

“You tell me every day,” you smiled, “and I love you too.”

“Then I guess he should meet his grandparents, huh?”

And when Eddie brought in your parents, Wayne, Hopper and Joyce, the sight brought you back to the first time Eddie ever stepped foot in your house.

How your dad watched reruns on the T.V. while you peeked out the blinds for him. He had known it then that Eddie was your forever. An arm wrapped around the man he considered to be the closest thing to a son he’d ever have, your father smiled at you the moment he saw the look in your eyes. Your mother skipped you completely and cooed at the little boy.

“Oh, baby,” she whispered at his chubby little face, “you have the best parents in the world.”

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 1 year

Text

“I just don’t see why you go to all of the trouble.”

Dustin leans into the counter, notebook flipped open at an angle so he can pretend to write in it. Claudia allowed him to come over on the condition that Steve makes sure he gets his calculus homework done, and he plans to keep his promise.

Even if every time he taps Dustin’s textbook, he merely gets an eye roll in response.

“It’s no trouble,” Steve says. Ladles some pancake mix onto the griddle and lets it sizzle for a few moments. “I like doing things like this.”

“I’m just saying, when does he ever do stuff like this for you? I’ve never even seen him make you a cup of coffee.”

“I don’t like coffee.”

“That’s not my point.”

Dustin gives him a pensive look, and Steve just shakes his head. Elects to ignore when Dustin shoves his books further down the counter away from him.

“Whatever. I don’t need to justify making breakfast for my boyfriend,” Steve huffs.

He flips the pancake. Dustin glares at him.

“Don’t whatever me.” Dustin’s pencil gets tossed on the open notebook and he crosses his arms. “I’d expect you to tell me if my relationship was going nowhere. I’m just showing you the same courtesy.”

For a moment, the only sound in the kitchen is the sizzle of batter. Steve snorts. Shoves the spatula under the pancake and slides it on top of the growing stack to his side, ladling more mix onto the griddle afterward.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but Bill and I are fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Well, considering I bought a ring last week, I might even go as far as saying things are good.”

Dustin’s face practically explodes out of his head. He glances back and forth from Steve to the bedroom door behind him before leaning closer.

“Seriously?” he whispers.

“Yeah.” Steve flips the newly-forming pancake. “That’s kinda why I asked you over on such short notice, I wanted to see if you’d have any ideas on how to propose.”

“Seriously?”

Steve sputters out a laugh.

“Fuck no,” he says. “I just wanted to let you know before I went ahead and did it. Figured that’d be best, y’know, since you shit your pants when I didn’t immediately tell you when Bill and I first got together.”

“But you’re serious about proposing, though?”

The last pancake is set on top of the stack, and Steve shuts the griddle off.

“Sure. I’ve always wanted to be a husband.”

“Well, it sure doesn’t sound like you’re serious,” Dustin mumbles.

Steve smacks his arm with the flat of the spatula, earning a hiss as Dustin scrubs the oil away from his skin and onto his shirt.

“Keep it up with the bad attitude and I won’t ask you to be my best man.”

A smile finds its way onto Steve’s face, but the thought itself makes him feel a little more like frowning.

There’s not going to be a wedding. Obviously.

Dustin still looks offended at the statement. Steve doesn’t feel like explaining to him why it doesn’t matter either way.

“I’m just saying,” Dustin begins. He furrows his brows and stares Steve down while he begins to chop strawberries. “Are you sure this is an I’m in love thing and not just an any excuse to get hitched thing?”

Steve has wondered the same thing himself, but his question has been closer to is this another Nancy thing than anything else. He sees when he looks into Dustin’s eyes that that’s the next question he’ll ask, too.

He might be offended if he hadn’t considered it so much already.

“I love him.”

“Clearly, because all you do is dote over him for nothing in return.”

Steve tsks.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah, Harrington? Every time I come over, I see you being all lovey dovey while he just stands there. You’re like the overbearing housewife to the husband that has no personality other than being useless.”

Like the Wheelers goes unsaid, but Steve hears it all the same. He shakes his head. Huffs a laugh and shakes his head again.

“He knows that you don’t like him,” Steve says, quietly as though he’s in church. “He knows you don’t like that I’m with him, so when you’re around, he doesn’t kiss or hug me back like he usually does.”

That stumps Dustin. His face is blank for a moment, and Steve returns his attention to the cutting board. Chops the strawberries into fourths how he knows his partner likes.

Dustin slumps in his seat.

“Am I an asshole?” he asks no one in particular.

“No,” Steve says anyway. “It’s really hard to change your perception of someone when you already have an idea of them in your head. I know that better than anyone.”

The strawberries, sliced and free of their stems, get scattered over the stack of still-steaming pancakes. Steve reaches for the syrup next and douses the whole thing.

“I do kind of expect you to try, though,” he adds.

Dustin nods, slowly and only once. Like the task is too daunting for him to commit to.

“Am I still invited to the wedding?”

“Yeah, bud, you’re still invited.” Stave nabs the can of whipped cream and gives it a shake. “You got demoted, though. Robin’s gonna be my maid of honor.”

“I thought only the brides could have those.”

“Well, there’s no bride, so someone has to have a maid of honor.”

Dustin snickers, watching as the whipped cream swirls into a lopsided mountain on top of the pancakes.

“Does that mean you’re gonna wear the dress? And throw the bouquet?”

“No, Bill’s gonna do that stuff. I don’t have the figure for it.”

“I’m gonna do what now?”

From the now open doorway behind Steve, a mass of shadow emerges like a freshly-woken grizzly from the mouth of a cave. Billy yawns and pads into the kitchen, eyes bleary from sleep, and stops just short of a foot away from the counter.

Normally he’d drape himself over the brunet from behind, but even in his sleepy haze, he doesn’t so much as touch.

“You’re gonna eat this breakfast that I made for you,” Steve says.

He slides the finished plate over on the counter so that it’s right in front of Billy, and he stares down at it for a second before he sighs.

“Oh.” A lazy smile spreads on his face after a moment. “Thanks, Stevie.”

“You’re welcome.”

Billy picks a slice of strawberry and pops it in his mouth, not paying Steve any mind when he brushes his hair away from his shoulder. The loose collar of his shirt reveals the edges of a bite mark, red and stamped into his skin like a brand. Steve adjusts his collar so that it’s hidden before he presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“You wanna share?” Billy asks through a full mouth.

He tucks his fork into the stack and Steve chuckles at the size of it. Laces his arms around Billy’s waist and presses flush against him.

“No, baby, it’s all yours.”

On the other side of the table, Dustin has returned to pretending to do his calculus. Steve eyes him for a moment, surprised that for once, when he looks at them, there isn’t a glare on his face.

Billy must notice it too, because he leans his weight back against Steve.

“You spoil me, Harrington,” Billy muses. “Dunno what I do to deserve it.”

They’ve had a great many conversations about Billy’s self worth. This doesn’t strike the same as when he used to push Steve away, when he used to sabotage himself any time there was a looming threat of happiness around the corner.

Steve can tell by the way that he smiles when he says it, he’s not opposed to happiness.

“Hmm, let’s see,” Steve wonders aloud. Sets his chin on Billy’s shoulder and sighs dramatically. “You’re an angel, obviously. My perfect pookie baby num-nums, and I’d be purposeless if I didn’t give you the princess treatment constantly.”

Billy snorts. Steve grins as he presses a kiss to his jaw.

“God, the shit you say sometimes,” Billy teases.

“Oh, man, you’re one to talk.“

“What do I ever do to you, Harrington?”

He clicks his tongue, all but purrs when Steve gets a frustrated look on his face.

“You walk around looking like you know that you’re hot shit and that I’m obsessed with you. Because I am obsessed with you, you know.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Billy tilts their heads together. Intertwines their fingers with his free hand. “Just ‘cause I’m pretty, huh?”

They’ve played this game before, and luckily this time around, Steve knows the right answers.

He curls around Billy and squeezes him. Brushes his lips over the concealed bite mark, gentle enough to not irritate, but with enough pressure to remind the blond of its presence.

“Yeah. Definitely not because you’re smart and kind or ‘cause you make me laugh. I’m just in it for your looks.” Steve chews his lip when Billy snickers. “You don’t know what you put me through on a day-to-day basis, blondie. I’d level mountain ranges just to get you a bag of your favorite beef jerky from the corner store.”

Billy hums. Spears another section of pancake on the end of his fork, catching a strawberry on the prongs. He toys with one of Steve’s fingers almost subconsciously.

“Do we have any jerky?”

“Mhm, picked some up this morning after I grabbed Henderson.”

The blond chuckles. Turns so that he can kiss Steve’s temple.

“You really do love me.”

Steve gets this huge, dopey, lovestruck smile on his face, and he clears his throat when he catches Dustin looking at him again. Decides that maybe he’ll give the big brother routine a rest for today and not scold him for not doing his homework.

They can schmooze Claudia later with vegetables from the garden or something.

“I really do.”

#harringroveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #dustin henderson #dustin and steve #last day oh my goodness #ficlet #my writing #not proofread

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Note

Hey darling hope you're doing well !! If it's ok could you do an ajax × fem!reader with the prompts 2 and 3 ? I just couldn't get those out of my head♡

‘’Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” + ‘’Just so you know, I’m not wearing a bra.’’

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

‘’What are the ten most deadliest plants?’’ you read on your flashcard, sitting on your bed.

Before you, Ajax was sitting criss-crossed and in deep thinking. ‘’Deadly nightshade, aconite — also known as wolf’s bane —, thornapples, angel’s trumpets, white snakeroot…and I don't know the rest.’’

You sighed, telling him the missing answers and flipping to the next flashcard. ‘’We studied these plants all month, how can you miss half of them?’’

‘’I suck at Botany. I’m sorry.’’ He fell against your pillows and plushies, having enough of studying. ‘’Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.’’ He rubbed his hands over your legs, but you didn’t give him the attention he wanted.

You were flattered by his compliments, but flirting and sweet talking won’t make you drop the studying session.

‘’Can we just kiss instead? We have the dorm to ourselves.’’

Shaking your head, you didn’t lift your eyes from the flashcard. ‘’No. We have a quiz on phytotoxicology tomorrow morning. We have to study,’’ you said, emphasizing on ‘study’.

Ajax groaned, still laying against your pillows. He understood the need to study, but kissing was so much better. ‘’My lips are feeling lonely.’’

You glanced at his puppy eyes and the oh-so-cute pout on his lips. You would rather make out than study, but you pushed back the study session so much that you were running low on time and could not move it to another day.

‘’Are they?’’ You cooed and slowly leaned down.

Ajax nodded, thinking you had fallen for his shit when he was the fool. ‘’Yeah, they’re missing yours.’’

Instead of kissing him like you made him believe you would, you grabbed the pen from his side of the bed, leaving Ajax even more frustrated when he realized you were not going to kiss him.

‘’Next question. The chapter on Aconite is very long and Ms. Thornhill won't fail to quiz us on it.’’

You asked each other flashcards questions back and forth, but after a few you were starting to get bored too.

You had about ten flashcards to go through and more reading in the textbooks, so if you wanted to get through everything, you and Ajax were going to need some motivation.

‘’Let’s make a deal. If we get 90% of the questions right before the clock hit 8pm, we’ll make out until my roommate returns. Deal?’’

Ajax evaluated your deal for a moment. ‘’Just making out?’’

You nodded. Anything that involved taking clothes off would be too risky and Ajax was a shy boy in front of people he wasn’t close with. If you were to get caught doing anything sexual by your roommate, he would never be able to look at her again.

‘’Can petting be involved? Can I put my hands under your shirt?’’

You nodded for both. You’ll probably hate yourself later because you won’t be able to get yourself off after Ajax leaves, but the thought of Ajax’s hands on your tits sounded really really nice.

‘’And, in case you need some more material to make your decision… Just so you know, I’m not wearing a bra.’’

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n @poppet05 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @rhaenyraswife @teaganthemorningstar @aphex2winn @moompie @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx @mxxny-lupin @idli-dosa @silenzju @ar40s @sweeterheartxamerica @renaissancewhxre @jordierama @lilppsblog @harrystylesfp @katsuki420 @ravenssh1t @izzy-laufeyson @iluvwomenblog @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @lilaconner @katsukis1wife @momoewn @amithesimpoffandoms @chaotic-fangirl-blog @hawkegfs @lyxrix @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @lucassinclairsgf @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation

#ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus imagine #ajax wednesday #georgie farmer #wednesday #wednesday imagine #ajax petropolus x you #ajax petropolus x y/n

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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years

Text

Paddles and Purists

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Librarian!Reader

WC: 3.3k

Summary: Steve begrudgingly goes with Dustin to drop off severely overdue books, but when he sees you lingering between the shelves, he quickly realizes that libraries aren't as lame as he thought. But can he keep his favorite librarian safe when Hawkins is under attack a third time?

Warnings: Canon level violence, mentions of blood, takes place before and during season 3 (with a few plot points/timelines muddled about because fanfic lol).

Note: This fic was inspired by Nat's amazing prompt here! I am completely gone for this man it's ridiculous.

------

JANUARY

“Listen Henderson,” Steve started, getting out of the car and resting his arm on top as he waited for his friend to gather his things, “I know that we’re buddies and all now, but you do realize that being seen here is going to hurt my already fragile cool status at Hawkins?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Harrington. You’re literally hanging out with a thirteen year-old. Your cool status is on the floor buddy.” He pulled his backpack over his shoulder. “Besides, I need whatever smooth moves you have left to sweet talk Marissa into forgiving me for borrowing those books in the fall.”

Steve’s left eyebrow shot up. “You mean the ones you stole-”

“For the last time I did not steal them! I just needed them for the curiosity voyage! I needed my paddles, Steve! And now that we fought and defeated the Demodogs, I can return my paddles.”

He turned and headed toward the Hawkins Library, ignoring Steve as he rolled his eyes and followed behind.

“This kid,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

Dustin’s steps slowed as he walked inside, hesitant to meet the wrath of Marissa. He kept his gaze on the books the two of them passed.

Steve didn’t care about the books, though. His attention was completely and unapologetically on you.

You were in the corner of the children’s section, handing a book to a young boy with a smile on your face that outshined the sun. The boy jumped to give you a hug and your laugh traveled all the way down Steve’s body.

“Marissa doesn’t seem so bad,” he whispered to Dustin with an awestruck smile.

Dustin looked over at you as you walked to the front desk. “Oh thank god,” he breathed, quickly walking over to you. “Y/n!” he called out.

Oh, Steve thought. This isn’t Marissa then.

You looked up when you heard Dustin called your name and glared.

It was the fiercest, cutest look Steve had ever seen.

“Henderson,” you said, looking around the open room and over your shoulder. “What the hell are you doing here? Marissa is going to be back from lunch any minute and she is out for your head after the shi- stuff you pulled in October.”

“But my paddles-”

“You know the lame paddles metaphor doesn’t work on me, bud.” You sighed, arms leaning on the desk as you whispered, “Look, if you have the books, I can try to say that they had been misshelved and this was all some big misunderstanding. Do you have them with you?”

Dustin nodded, pulling out his bag and digging for the various textbooks. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/n. I’m naming my firstborn after you.”

You giggled, and the sound was so amazing that Steve started chuckling himself.

Your eyes flashed to him and his laughter died on his throat, and his face suddenly burned.

“Who’s your friend, Henderson?” you asked, keeping your eyes on Steve.

Steve stood straight, clearing his throat and holding out a hand while giving you his best, swoonworthy smile.

“I’m Steve Harrington.”

Your brows shot up, and Steve watched as you bit the inside of your cheek and he suddenly wished that he could crawl into the Upside Down and never emerge because of how unimpressed you were by his moves.

Still, you took his hand and shook it. The feel of your skin against his was electric.

“Steve Harrington, I’m Y/n.” You looked over at Dustin. “Aren’t you too old for a babysitter?”

Both of them groaned. “He’s not my babysitter-”

“More like his chauffeur,” Steve muttered, and the corners of your lips twitched. He shrugged. “We’re buds.”

You softened at that, giving Steve a genuine smile that made him melt. “Well, nice to meet you, Steve. Are you a reader?”

His immediate reaction was to lie in order to impress you, but he had a feeling you’d be able to read through his bullshit.

“Only when forced, and even then, not really,” he replied sheepishly.

He braced himself for judgment from you, whether it be a disappointed scoff, or a you’re such a loser cackle.

Instead, your smile widened and you bit your bottom lip.

“I bet we can change that.”

MARCH

Dustin plopped his finished books on the counter, a satisfied grin on his face as Marissa scowled.

“See?” he said, gesturing at the pile. “All five safely returned! Again!”

“You’re not going to win me over that easily, Dustin,” she said, taking the pile.

“Someday,” Dustin said, then ran off to find his next round of tomes.

Steve, on the other hand, kept his one book in hand as he walked by the shelves, scanning the area for the other librarian.

He stopped short once he got to the history section, smiling as he watched you carrying a massive stack of books in one hand, balancing it under your chin as you shelved one of the books.

You were standing on your tiptoes, tongue sticking out as you reached up to one of the higher shelves. At first it seemed like you had everything under control.

Then, the stack in your hand wobbled, and your eyes widened as they started tipping over-

Steve jumped forward, grabbing the stack from you and securing it in his arms.

You gasped from the smooth, fluid motion, staring up at him in surprise.

“Harrington,” you breathed out a relieved laugh. “Good catch.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, well, after years of being the star athlete of Hawkins, I better have great reflexes.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

A chuckle. “Nah, if I really wanted to impress you,” he lifted up the stack of books, “I would go home and spend the weekend reading these bad boys.”

Your nose scrunched in disgust. “That would be quite the feat, even for me Harrington. I’m more of a fiction girl myself.”

You tried to make a move to grab the stack but Steve just shook his head, so instead you just grabbed the book at the top, turning to the shelves and running your fingers over the spines until you found its proper home.

It was such a small, seemingly insignificant gesture, but Steve found himself mesmerized by the tenderness of your fingertips as they touched each book, as if you were handing precious jewels.

“I finished Hitchhiker’s Guide, by the way,” he said after a few moments of silence.

Your eyes lit up as you turned to him. “And?”

He nodded. “It was good! Gotta admit I got lost during a few moments, but overall I liked it.”

“Totally fair. I had to reread it a few times to fully understand some parts. It sure gets wild.”

“I’d definitely read it again. Kind of wish it was a movie, too. That would be wild.”

“Well,” you said, taking another book to the shelf, “I don’t know about a movie, but they did make a tv show a few years back.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “What! How did I miss that?”

“Probably all that athlete stuff you were doing,” you said, smile widening.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Alright, sassypants. Well, is it worth the watch?”

You shrugged. “Not sure, I never saw it.”

Steve barked out a laugh loud enough for you to whip your head around at him, clamping your hand over his mouth.

The two of you went wide-eyed at the sudden and unexpected contact and you pulled away as soon as the realization of what you had done sank in. Your eyes then averted from his as you looked around for any angry glares from the loud noise.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I just can’t believe you just gave me shi- crap about not seeing it when you haven’t either!”

You scoffed. “What? Maybe I’m a purist who believes the book will always be better!”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Steve’s lips turned downward. “We could….find out together?”

There was a pause as you shelved the next book, and Steve wondered if he had taken your witty banter too far, misreading the situation.

But when you turned to look at him, there was a light in your eyes that made his heart flutter.

“I’d be down for that.”

JUNE

“Well, well, well, look who we have here,” you said as you approached the kid’s section, crossing your arms at the man sitting on the U.S. map rug reading a picture book.

Steve looked up at you with feigned annoyance. “Can you wait a second, please? I gotta find out what the hell this brown bear sees.”

“Harrington, you know you’re welcome to join me at storytime any Saturday morning you’d like. I’m sure it’s been lonely since Dustin left for science camp.”

He frowned, closing the book and standing up. “I’m not lonely!” he lied. “How can I be lonely when I have a million books and a stellar librarian to keep me company?”

You shrugged. “Or maybe it’s that you’ve now found better things to do and more interesting people to hang out with?” Though you were joking, he could hear the hurt in your voice. “Maybe that’s why you haven’t been here in months.”

Steve’s eyes widened, guilt and shame washing through him. “What? No way! I just-” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, Y/n. Shit- stuff with my parents haven’t been great and I had to get a job at the new mall and….” now I’m just some loser.

“Hey,” you said, resting a hand on his shoulder. He tried not to make a big deal about you touching him so as to not scare you off, and luckily, it worked. “It’s okay, Steve. Life happens. The books will always be here when you need them.”

He cocked an eyebrow up and smiled at the meaning behind your words. “Well, I’m grateful for the books’ support.”

A sudden boldness that Steve had not felt in months washed over him and he rested his hand over yours, squeezing it gently.

You smiled.

“Alright, Harrington, are you finished with the bear yet? I have a whole pile of books I’ve been saving for you…”

JULY

Steve’s eye felt like it was going to pop out of its socket.

When he first got beat to shit in the underground Russian lab, the pain as numbed due to the adrenaline rush, replaced quickly by the crazy truth serum shit they injected into him and Robin.

Now, as the drugs slowly left his system, he began to feel the pain pulsing through his body.

But he couldn’t focus on that right now. He needed to focus on keeping his legs moving as he, Robin, Dustin, and Erica ran full speed down the streets of Hawkins.

“We gotta hide somewhere!” Robin said in between curses.

“The library!” Dustin offered. “It’s not far-”

“No,” Steve growled, shooting a glare at his friend.

Henderson sighed. “Look, Harrington, it’s the closest thing we got! Besides, it closed hours ago. No one will be there.”

Steve read between the lines of what the twerp was saying. You wouldn’t be there.

It was still too dangerous. He didn’t want any of this to go anywhere near any part of your life if he could help it. “If it’s closed, that means it’s locked. So we can’t get in anyway!”

“Not a problem. I’ve broken in multiple times.”

Steve groaned. “What do you mean you’ve broken into the library-”

“PADDLES STEVE. FOR THE PADDLES!”

Steve didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t let his friends get hurt any more than they already had, and an the Mindflayer army was readying an invasion through Hawkins any moment.

His brain was going fuzzy again from exhaustion and pain, and he had no more strength to fight.

“Fine.”

They continued down the streets, keeping their eyes and ears peeled for any approaching danger. Luckily, the coast seemed clear.

Until they made it to the main road where the library was, and Steve felt his heart stop mid-beat as they all scrambled to hide behind one of the buildings.

He leaned over to look at the three figures on the other end of the street walking toward the library, bodies moving almost unnaturally, the expressions on their faces borderline lifeless.

Marissa was at the helm.

Panic rushed through him like a tidal wave.

Why would Marissa be heading towards a supposedly empty building?

Unless it wasn’t empty….

Steve turned to Dustin. “We need to get in there. Now.”

Dustin nodded. “Back door. Follow me.”

They crept behind the buildings until they reached the library. Dustin pulled out a key from his bag - because apparently he had a key to the library somehow- and unlocked it.

The door slowly opened with an aged creak to a dimly lit office space.

Steve stormed in, whipping his head around frantically as he looked for you.

“Stay in the office, run if shit goes down,” he said to the group before opening the office door.

He made his way into the library itself, jumping between shelves.

“Hello?” you called out, a hint of fear in your voice and Steve almost let out a whimper.

“Y/n!” he followed your voice to the classics section and didn’t stop until you were a foot in front of him.

“Steve, what the hell happened to you?” Your eyes widened and a hand reached up to his swollen eye.

He shook his head, hands grasping your arms as his eyes bore into yours.

“You need to go. Right now. It isn’t safe.”

“Steve we need to get you to a hospital-”

“We can’t-” the panic was unrelenting. “Please, Y/n. Please you can’t be here I need to get you out of here I need you to be safe-”

“Steve, breathe,” you whispered, caging his face in your hands. You took a deep breath in and out, wordlessly telling him to do the same.

He took one breath in-

BANG

The two of you jumped as the entrance door slammed open, Steve covering your mouth before you could scream. He pulled you deeper into the shelves.

“Ohhhhh Y/n,” Marissa called as if coaxing a cat from underneath the bed. “Where are you?”

You let out the tiniest cry, muffled by Steve’s hand. His other arm wrapped around your waist as he clung to you, ready to pull or push you wherever you needed to go in order to be safe.

Marissa’s voice echoed through the room as she continued, and Steve used it as a path to escape. As her voice went left, you went right. She came closer, you moved back.

“I just wanted to have a little chat. I just met the most interesting people. They’ve got some big ideas and dreams that you might really like. Doesn’t take that much to join.”

You and Steve were close to the entrance now. He looked over the corner of a shelf, his hand securely around yours.

Marissa was gone.

“All it costs is your soul,” the possessed librarian said from right behind him. He whirled around just as she wrapped her arm around your throat, you gasping while she ripped you away from him.

Steve moved to jump to your aid, but was suddenly restrained by the two large men Marissa had been walking with.

“Y/N!,” he screamed, using every ounce of strength to try and pull away. One of the guys punched him in the stomach and he keeled over.

“STEVE,” you screamed back, arm extending out toward him. Marissa slammed your body against one of the shelves, hand wrapping around your neck as she lifted you in the air with superhuman strength.

“Now, now, Y/n,” Marissa cooed, head cocking to the side as a smile crept up her face. “You know the rules. No. Yelling-”

The guys holding Steve back let out a simultaneous oof as their hold on him loosened and they fell to the ground. Steve looked at Robin, Erica, and Dustin, who were holding those large busts usually displayed at the desk.

And then, he launched himself at Marissa, slamming his body into hers. The momentum knocked her off her feet and onto the ground, and you fell back against the shelf, gasping for air.

Marissa growled, standing up and crashing her fist into Steve’s jaw. He fell onto his back with a groan and she took the opportunity to straddle his waist and wrap both hands around his neck and squeezing with all her might.

“Well if it isn’t Steve Harrington,” she hissed, her eyes nearly black. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble with the boss trying to keep these kids safe over the years. He’d love it if I took care of the problem by killing you now-”

A thunk echoed in the library as Marissa’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell to the side, unconscious.

Steve turned from her to see you standing over him, panting from adrenaline, a giant history book in your hand like a weapon.

He scrambled up to standing as you dropped the book. “Are you oka-”

His question was cut off as you lunged forward, crashing your lips to his.

Steve hissed in pain.

You pulled back in horror. “I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

His hands wrapped around your face and he smiled. “Nononowaitwaitwait,” he murmured as he pulled your mouth back till it connected with his.

A small sigh left your body as you leaned into him, and Steve felt like he was floating.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes opened slowly, expression dreamlike.

Your eyes, however, were still wide and you bit your bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” you said again, softly this time. “I just…nothing like an unexpected near death experience to make you finally have the balls to kiss the guy you like.”

Steve chuckled, forehead leaning against yours. “Well, I hope it won’t take another near death experience for you to do it again. You can kiss me anytime you like.”

You smiled. “Really?”

He kissed you again in response.

“Uh, guys?” Dustin whined from behind as he continued kissing you. “Can we go back to saving the world again?”

AUGUST

Steve strolled into the library, plastic bag in hand.

As per usual, instead of being at your station at the front desk, he found you helping a group of young students pick out their last summer reads before school started.

He leaned against the desk, arms crossed as he watched you with a content smile on his face. It never got old, the joy spread across your face doing the things you loved most.

Nothing beat the way your smile grew as you looked up to see him there, the brightness in your eyes somehow becoming brighter.

The way you scrunched your nose when he winked at you.

You handed the last student their book and patted them on the shoulder before walking over to him. He was about to say hello when you grabbed his arm and pulled him into the empty reference section, pushing him against the spines and leaning in for a deep, head spinning kiss.

“Man,” he said when you pulled away, the two of you a bit breathless. “I had no idea libraries were this much fun.”

You rolled your eyes, lightly slapping his chest. “Did you get the goods?”

He held up the plastic bag. “The first season of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Surprisingly easy to get my hands on, seeing that it apparently hasn’t been checked out in years.”

You shook your head. “Some people are such purists,” you muttered before pulling Steve’s smiling lips back to yours.

-------

Thank you for reading! :)

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #librarian!reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction

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cool-cowboy · 4 months

Text

Dream Come True

Tags:

Dubious consent, Somnophilia, Drunk sex, masturbation, grinding, non-penetrative sex, clothed sex, overstimulation, Dirty talk, pining, obsession, Roommates, Vaginal sex, creampie

Summary:

In which Leon is a little obsessed with his roommate (You) and gets interrupted mid... selfcare time by a wasted you, who promptly falls asleep in his bed, looking way too good for him to resist.

Questionable at first, but you're into it, so it's fine. Young Leon, before Re2, in his police academy days, something like that. Anyways, Enjoy!

Text:

Leon.S.Kennedy She’s gone, for now, off to see her friends, spending the night getting wasted and slutting it up with them. I mind it more than I should, the thought of her with another guy, doing the things I’ve been wanting to do with her since the day we met. It wasn’t all that bad, at first, just a crush. I’ve never lived with a woman before, let alone one as perfect as her. We’re not close, just comfortable, not friendly enough to hang out outside our room, something I’ve tried to change, get whatever guys who look at her while she’s out thinking she’s taken.

I close my textbook, finding it a little too hard to focus, thinking too much about her, well aware she doesn’t think of me. It’s unhealthy, I’m well aware my attachment to her runs deeper than simple lust, it’s a craving, some kinda disgusting need that needs met, so I meet it, time and time again, jerking my dick to the thought of her, half the time in her bed, a pair of her cute panties pressed to my face. I’ve gotten sloppy, comfortable in my actions, not having been caught so far, unwilling to try anything to properly satisfy the yearning I have for her.

I get up, picking up my little glass, some mixed drink she made for me, said she didn’t want to pregame alone. It’s gross, bitter with alcohol, but I like it, a little piece of her, something nice she did for me. I stand between our beds, debating, unsure if I should give myself the satisfaction of the smell of her on her sheets, well aware I’m headed down a severely questionable path. I do it anyways, never one to refuse myself when can get something good, never had enough to get used to it. Maybe that’s why I like her so damn much, she’s good, pretty and nice, soft and sweet, perfect.

She washed her hair last night, the scent of her shampoo heavy on her pillow, my face pressed into it to breath it in. I’m laid out on my stomach, letting her smell settle on my skin, feeling slack with the reminder of her. My dick’s filling out already, pressing uncomfortably into the bed, her bed, my face buried in her pillow, breathing her in and sighing her out, the heat over my body familiar, pathetic, but I can’t help it, she does something to me I find downright unexplainable, ruined me, a perfectly normal and ordinary man, turned me into a needy dog.

“Shit…” I let my hands go up under the pillow, bringing a knee up to parallel with my hip so I can rut into the mattress, getting a little relief from the raging erection bothering me. It hurts, how much I want her, how close she is without giving it to me, but I can be patient, wait for the moment she gives in, lets me have her. I let out a low groan, taking a deep breath of her, pressing my hips harder into the bed, reaching one hand down to let my dick out, leaving my shorts mostly on, always wary of her returning, seeing me doing something so terrible. She’d be disgusted, if she knew, but she won’t, even after she’s mine, she doesn’t have to know, no harm done if I’m the only one who knows any better.

It’s not enough, not anymore, my need for her too strong for this to be good enough, but I don’t really have a choice, reaching down to wrap a hand around my aching dick, leaking onto her sheets, which are thankfully white, allowing me to not be too worried about the mess as I thrust into my hand, inhaling her smell, pretending it’s her below me, begging for it, clenching around me and moaning and loving it.

“Nnh- Fuck-!” I’m being loud, whining, muffling my noises with her pillow, keeping myself as quiet as possible, feeling so damn good inside her, making her feel good. I’m nearly there, ready to empty inside, fucking into my fist and drooling on her pillow, not worried about the mess just yet, lost in what her presence offers me, an almost painful pleasure, working me up in a way I never imagined before her. “Shit, oh god-ah- fuck-Nnh-”

“See you!” She’s at the door, unlocking it, prompting me to yank my shorts up and scramble across the floor to my own bed, forgetting to turn the pillow over before I do, choosing to leave it to have time to pull my blanket over my lap, feverishly grabbing my phone and trying like hell to calm down my breathing, not very believable, I’m sure I look a mess, flushed face and messy hair, my hand wiping drool from my chin when she comes in, wasted, smiling wide when she sees me, stumbling over in her slutty little skirt, giving me half an idea to bend her over her bed and finish what she interrupted.

“Hey, Le!” Le, a name only she calls me, a nickname I like, only when it’s her saying it. She comes over, seating herself on my bed, her hip pressing into my knee, the twin mattress not nearly big enough.

“Have fun?” She nods, a dopey smile on her face giving me a fleeting, disgusting thought of how easy it would be to take what I want right now. She pats my knee, letting her hand rest there, no idea how close she is to my aching erection, the contact making me flinch, not that she notices, she’s completely out of it, swaying where she sits, her eyes barely open.

“Yeah, tired now… Was helping Trish… She wanted this horrible guy so I had to be… wing woman thing.” She waves her hand dismissively, slumping forward over her lap, laying her face into my pillow. She’s never done this before, went out of her way to be close to me, sat in my bed, other than times where it’s casual, playing a card game, something like that.

“Are you sleeping?” She groans, stretching her legs out, facing away from me, her skirt hiked, giving me an insanely enticing view of her panties, thong nestled between her perfect ass, her pussy hidden beneath a scrap of black fabric, nearly begging me to press inside, fill her up and make her full of me.

“Get out ‘f my bed.” She curls up, top knee tucked up, bottom leg straight, her chin tucked down, back curved a little, looking impossibly sexy.

“This is my bed.” She doesn’t move, just lets out a cute little “Oh”, snuggling herself into my pillow, her skirt pressing a little higher as she shifts around, getting comfortable, making it nearly impossible for me to keep from holding her down and giving her the cum I was about to soak her sheets with. She falls asleep quickly, her breathing deepening and evening out, my dick painfully hard, edged then ignored. I’m not sure what to do, if she’ll freak waking up beside me, if she’s pliable enough to let me fuck her and blame it on the alcohol in the morning.

I lay down, just behind her, draping my blanket over her, just her legs, keeping her pretty panties and ass on display for me, just looking at her, enjoying the sight, her comfort with me, sleeping beside me. She’s a heavy sleeper, I know that, I’ve gotten a little loud a bunch of times while she’s been out and she’s never stirred, even when she’s not heavy with alcohol. I push my shorts down, ignoring the disgust bubbling in my stomach, wrapping my hand around my dick, running it up and down, slow, not wanting to waste this gorgeous opportunity, cum too quick and ruin it.

She moves, shifting her ass back half an inch, head of my dick nestled between her cheeks, an inch away from her hole. I take that as an invitation, a sign her body wants me just as much as I want her, just staying there, running my hand over my dick, choking down the groan that tries to escape when pre drips out of me onto her underwear, smeared into the fabric. She hasn’t moved, made any sign she wants me to stop, or that she’ll wake, so I take it a little further, slotting myself up the center of her ass, getting a good look, my hips moving almost all on their own, grinding the length of me up her ass, making me hiss, the elbow over my mouth not doing much to keep me quiet. I’m dripping, drooling into the crook of my arm, grinding myself into her, hoping to god she doesn’t wake up, halfway wishing she would, let me see her pretty face, her confused expression.

“Fuck-Nnh-” I pull back, gripping the base of my dick, tapping it against her panties, the spot covering her hole, this whole thing making my head fuzzy, the heat unbearable, shame and guilt building and making the satisfaction sickening, but I don’t have it in me to stop, deny myself anything good, something to calm down whatever sickness is inside me. I slide the head along the crotch of her panties, pausing when she pushes back, pressure on her clit making her flinch, though she’s still asleep, her breath even, her ribs heaving with deep breaths. Her warmth is too inviting, her pussy hot against me, my dick red and slick, begging for release, so eager to push her panties to the side and sink inside, take what I want.

I don’t, just reach over her, dragging her top leg down gently, pausing when she moves, waiting until her breathing goes even to finish, giving myself a couple inches of her thighs pressed together, my dick seated between them, searing hot and painful. I thrust gently, wary to wake her, be caught going this far, sliding my dick against her sweet pussy, giving myself some of the tightness my body’s after by fucking between her thighs, the feeling foreign, her skin much softer and plush than mine, the pleasure unlike anything I’ve experiences before now, the noises I’m letting out barley contained, loud and muffled, my brain hazy, too busy to care much about consequences.

I’m taking it too far, a hand on her hip pulling her back into me, my pace a little quicker than I intended, but she still doesn’t mind, just takes it, her thighs squeezing me, my dick dragging on her clit working her up, even if she’s not conscious for it. I decide to move her panties, just sliding them to the side, my hand shaking as I grip my dick, rubbing it up her slit, spreading the slick there up to her clit, rubbing it with the head of my dick, a choked moan sobbed into my arm when she shakes, nearly cumming from my dick, her thighs trembling and twitching, all raw reaction, nothing fake, just her, and me, giving her what she deserves, letting her feel me in the way she’s supposed to, hoping this isn’t the last time.

I press my head back between her thighs, now sliding easily between, her wetness making it easy, her heat more intense with nothing between us. I’m sure to slide my head along her clit with each thrust, loving her shaking for me, trembling, holding her thighs tight for me, giving me what I’ve been wanting, handing it over on a silver fucking platter. I’m moving faster, light paps of skin on skin filling the room, along with my frantic, heavy breathing, my body searing hot, painfully turned on, my face pressing to the back of her hair, the faint smell of her shampoo making me keen, high and needy, her body shifting, squirming, alarming me, the fear and arousal nearly making me cum right then.

“Le..?” I groan, I can’t help it, her voice is so pretty, and I’ve already been caught, so I might as well keep going, fucking between her thighs, feeling her shake for me, her body tense, nearly there.

“Yeah, ‘s me, just-ah- fuck-! Just- let me finish. I’ll make-Nhh- you finish, ‘s okay…” I’m panting, drooling into her hair, moaning too damn loud when she squeezes her thighs, purposeful, giving me permission, the permission I’ve been dying for, free reign over her perfect body, a willingness I never thought I had the chance of getting.

Reader “Feels good…” He’s fucking my thighs, why I don’t know, but it feels good, woke me up with shaking legs, his dick big and hot against me, the feeling nice, even if it is unexpected and probably kind of illegal.

“Yeah? Shit- Good, that’s so good-hah- You feel so good, warm, so fucking-Nnh-! Pretty-” He has his face buried in my hair, rutting against me, pulling my hips back into his, moaning in a whiny, needy way, his big hand shaky against me. “Wanted you so bad-fuck- can’t believe you- you let me, let me-ah- fuck your pretty thighs. Gonna make you cum, wanna be-Nnh- good, wanna-hah- fuckin’ shit-” He’s losing it, my thighs too tight around him, muscles squeezing tight as my orgasm nears, his thrusts losing their rhythm, his breaths panted into my hair. “Shit, you’re so-ngh- so close, go ahead, please, push this pretty ass back and help me, fuck yourself until you cum. Fuck-! There, so good, can’t-ah-fucking believe it, shit, shit-!” I’m cumming, letting him grind roughly into me, stretching out my orgasm, my low moan drowned out by his loud, whiny moans, all muffled by my hair.

“Le- Stop-” I push against him, but he doesn’t stop, keeps up the harsh pressure on my clit, forcing me through it, not giving me a second of calm before sending me toward another high, the pleasure fuzzy and painful, a new wave of slick wetting his dick and letting him slide easier, keep himself buried between my thighs. “No- shit- no more-!” He groans, his hand slipping around to grip the back of my thigh, lifting it up so my knee faces the ceiling, keeping me from restraining his movement, his other hand holding his dick against me, helping him rut into my clit, my next orgasm coming quick, nearly there already, pain mixing with pleasure in my hazy brain, my dazed moan returned by and eager one.

“Yes, one more time, you sound so pretty. Can’t let you get away with just one, ‘s not good enough, want you to fucking soak my sheets, leave me something to get off to… Shit, just a little more, I know, fuckin’ hurts, yeah?” I’m whining, curling in on myself, mind giving into the sensation, overworked body shying away from the pressure. “Hurts so fucking good, you’re shaking so bad, look so good letting me do what I want, letting me give you more than you can fucking take- ‘s better than I imagined, you’re the perfect- you’re perfect- so pretty- shit, you’re cumming, come on, soak me, yes, yes- My god…” I’m convulsing, his grip on my leg slipping before he rights it, my face pressed into his pillow to keep me quiet, the dull pleasure clouding my mind, making me soft, his fingers working me through it, bringing me back down.

“Leon… Le..? What’re..?” He’s turned me over, is looming over me, looking pained, pensive, his dick red and leaky, hanging heavy a couple inches away from my aching clit. He’s shadowed, looking a little sinister in the dull light of our room, but more hot, large and imposing, scary, somehow enjoyably so.

“Let me fuck you.” My brows draw together, unsure, not exactly opposed, but a little wary of him, since he apparently thought it was fine to use me while I slept. He seems off, less of the usual Leon, a more serious version, his expression hard and determined, but also almost desperate. I usually would have zero problem, he’s handsome, of course, and if he would’ve made a move under normal circumstances I’d be happy to oblige.

“Okay.” He groans, leaning down over me and kissing me, a little harsher than I’m used to, moaning against my lips and prodding against my entrance. This is disgusting, but he’s good at it, has me whining and out of it, something I’ve never had before, the only drawback being his apparent inability to ask, which he’s trying to mend, giving me a questioning look with his head pressed to my hole, sinking slowly inside once I nod, his head lolled back in some form of ecstasy, a low, shaky groan passing his lips. “Jesus, big-” I squirm, but he holds me to him with a grip on my hip, keeping himself seated inside, kissing me and moaning and shaking. He pulls out, all the way, staring down as he nudges his way back inside, the stretch a little much, but not painful, the pain coming when he presses a thumb to my clit, not moving it, just letting me get friction from him pulling my hips to meet languid thrusts.

“No-! Hey-nnh-! Stop! Le-” He ignores me, leaning over me a little and releasing my hip, resting his hand on my lower stomach instead, putting pressure there, the angle and force letting him hit the spot he was going for, my light pleased noise earning me a satisfied groan, his head hanging, his pace quickening, hips slamming into my thighs, thumb working on my clit making me clench around him.

“Ah- Feels so good- so-Nnh- pretty-! Gonna cum inside-fuck- inside-ah- shit-! You’re gonna-hah- gonna cum again. Squeeze-nnh- squeeze me-” I’m whining, my muscles painfully tight, his rough fingers harsh on my clit, my brain hazy with pleasure, his face above mine, my knees pressed nearly to my chest. “Want to- you to-ah- be mine-nnh- Wanna fuck- you and make you feel good every-hah-day. C’mon, cum for-nnh- me, one more time, god you’re fucked- all fucked- out from my dick, shit-!” I’m squeezing him, my orgasm nothing but the relaxation of tight muscles, the feeling of his dick twitching inside drawing a low moan out of me. “There you go, so-tight-! So good, perfect, so fucking-ah- pretty-!” He slumps over me, filling me up, warmth flooding my insides a pleasant feeling, the pleasure settled over me like a blanket, fuzzy and full-body. “Shit, milking me- fuckin’ squeezing the life out of me, so damn good…” He doesn’t pull out, just stays slumped over, me, unmoving, until I press a hand to his shoulder, making a displeased noise and refusing to get out of me. “Not yet.” I can feel his release leaking out of me, staining his sheets, but he does’t mind just breathes against me for a few more seconds before pullin back, sitting back on his haunches and staring at me while I sit up, messy and mostly dressed, clothes and hair out of place.

“You’re sick, huh?”

#leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #rookie leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #somno fantasy #smut

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jjkeremika · 8 months

Text

My Tutor

Description: eren is struggling with math so mikasa offers to help him. eren asks to feel her boob if he gets a 100 on his final. mikasa figured he’ll never get a perfect score, so it couldn’t hurt to give him something to work for.

alternative universe: college/university

gets a little smutty

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

“I really don’t get why I need to know calculus and series and linear algebra. How this is relevant to me as a person— beyond me! And it’s not like I don’t do the homework, Armin, I’ve fucking tried and still fail.”

Eren crossed his arms and huffed. He was pacing, barely. Two steps then turning around. Another two steps and turning around.

“I’m not built for this crap. Oh, it’s dumb I have to fucking memorize shit!”

Armin rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the laptop in his lap. Eren was complaining about his maths class again.

Yeah, he did the homework, as in he had an answer for every question. Whether he derived that answer the right way is a completely different question; and whether he studied was another.

He let Eren yammer on as he stared around the campus. They were sat underneath their favorite tree in their favorite spot on campus. It was a stunning day, sunny and not too hot, a nice breeze. Armin couldn’t not work outside today. There was a lot of background chatter. The leaves made a lovely noise as the breeze swept through.

Though he could barely hear it over Eren’s loud mouth.

“Armin, are you even listening to me?” Eren was waving his hand in front of Armin’s face, desperately trying to get his attention. “Stop spacing out, I’m having problems.”

“When aren’t you having problems?” He intended for it to be more playful, but it came out as a sigh. Eren paid no attention to it.

“Dude. I could fail this fucking class, okay? I need your help.”

“I’ve never taken that class. Ask Jean or Reiner or Floch or someone.” Armin paused. “Just not Connie. Oh. Hey, Mikasa. How are you?”

Armin watched her approach from behind Eren, who was completely oblivious to anyone’s presence besides his own and Armin’s. Her natural gait was so quiet though that he wouldn’t noticed her presence if he weren’t staring at her.

She had ditched her usual trousers and long sleeve for a long skirt and short sleeves. She had waved to Armin.

“You look nice today,” Armin added. Mikasa smiled from the compliment. Eren quickly turned to face her.

“Thank you,” she responded, stopping next to Eren, who’s eyes were fixated on her. She turned her head to face Eren and greeted him: “Eren, hi.”

Eren wasted no time. “Mikasa, you’ve taken Math Methods, right?” he asked.

“Why do you ask? Do you need help? I can tutor you.” Armin rolled his eyes - Mikasa to the rescue.

Eren’s eyes lit up. “Really? Could we make it a regular thing? I’m royally fucked if I fail my final.”

Armin could practically smell the desperation. Armin let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh. Eren shot him a glare.

“What’s so funny?” Eren demanded. The argumentative tone was clear to Armin that his needing help was something he was embarrassed about. He knew him too well.

“Nothing,” Armin sighed. The conversation was now over. It was hard to talk to Eren when he started getting defensive.

Eren glared slightly at Armin while Armin shifted his gaze back to Mikasa, who still stood in front of them, arms crossed firmly under her chest.

“Yeah, we can do that,” she suddenly replied to Eren, returning to their conversation. He moved his eyes from Armin to Mikasa and wait— did he glance at her chest? “We can start tonight.”

***

Mikasa went to Eren’s apartment every night until the midterm to help him study. She would show up around 8:00pm, then would quickly greet Armin before Eren whooshed her off to his room to study.

The two sat side by side at his desk with the textbook, two notebooks, and lots of erasers. They sat close together; their legs and arms almost touching to the point where one’s body heat radiated immediately onto the other. Eren appreciated that she tutored him, but man was she fucking distracting.

It was the way she sat so close to him; the way she leaned closer when he was working on a problem; the way she smelled like a cross of pink roses and champagne; the way she’d glance at him after asking him a question; the way she’d lean in so close when explaining the answer— no, the way her arm would push against her breast when she’d write the solution for him…

“So, because the equation follows this pattern, this is the differential you’d use…”

He knew this would happen. If he weren’t doing that poorly, he wouldn’t have accepted her help. But she’s one of those lucky few people who just understands everything and usually it’s so damn annoying and so fucking attractive and he’s so desperate for help.

He hasn’t been this close to her since they were teenagers, fighting all the time because he was desperate to beat her.

He did: once. Sparring on the flats near his backyard. He had demanded a rematch after she knocked him on the ground for the fourth time. She relented and quickly tackled him; Eren landed on his front while Mikasa had pressed her knee to his back. He managed to swipe her weight-supporting leg out from under her and he flipped to his front. Her knees had separated on either side of him, sitting directly on top of him, hands placed near his head as support. Her face had turned red and she froze, and Eren took the opportunity to roll them over. He grabbed her wrists, tightened his thighs around her calves, and flipped so he was on top. She was still frozen, mouth agape, her entire face even more red, breathing a little more heavy. He was so happy about finally winning and jumped up immediately, exclaiming victory cries. She stood up and ran inside. He heard her talking to his mum later that night. He assumed she was embarrassed from losing and neither ever brought it up again. They never sparred again either.

It wasn’t until the memory resurfaced a year later that he realized he was completely oblivious to a different opportunity— one that he now thought frequently about.

“Do you see why this is a power series?”

Her lips seemed so soft and pink, and he’d watched the tiny red mark form on her bottom right lip as she bit it while thinking. And her skin seemed so soft too. Eren wanted to reach out and just caress her cheek sometimes and he had to shake himself out of it.

“Eren?”

Her voice was soft on his ears too. He couldn’t help but wonder just how someone who was so strong and intelligent seemed so soft and delicate. The thought of how she needed no one and he needed her in more ways than one didn’t seem so aggravating right now.

He returned her stare. “Hm?”

“Do you see why that’s the right equation to use?”

She was looking directly into his eyes. Grey meeting green. He wondered how just one look could make him feel so warm.

Now would be a great time to kiss her, he thought. Just kiss her.

“Eren? Helloo.” She tapped his shoulder and Eren shook his head to whisk his thoughts away.

“Yeah, I was just trying to work out the next one.” He leaned back in his chair. Fuck.

“When is your final? What grade do you need to pass?”

He rolled his eyes again— the way he always did when she was hounding him with questions. She was his tutor, so she had a right to know technically, but it’s not like he cared so why did she have to.

“Uh, in three weeks and don’t worry about it.”

She sighed. “Well, alright. I think you’ll earn a passing exam grade.”

He was slightly surprised and disappointed she didn’t ask further and started packing up her things. He checked the time: it was pretty late.

“I’ll walk you home.”

***

“Thank you for tutoring me,” Eren expressed at her door.

“You’re welcome. What should we do for a celebration when you pass?”

The outside lights illuminated her face. She was standing so close— so, so close. He could feel the heat radiating from her.

“Hm.” What he wanted he couldn’t just blatantly ask for, could he? “I’m not sure.”

“Well, if you think of anything, let me know. Good luck studying on your own. You should pick something to focus on for motivation.”

The words escaped his mouth before he heard them in his brain. He saw the blush and shock on her face before he even heard the question.

“If I get a 100, can I touch your boob?”

He felt warm again, but the bad kind. The weight in his stomach felt unnaturally heavy and his face was burning— but he took silent breaths and held his stance, she didn’t need to know he was freaking out.

After a brief pause, she laughed to break the tension. She watched him study for multiple months now with little improvement. If it helped to motivate him, fine by her. “Yeah, alright.”

***

Armin wasn’t home when Eren asked Mikasa to come over— he made certain. Whether or not anything actually happened, he didn’t want anyone besides them to know.

They were sitting on the couch when Eren told her the result. The tension thickened instantly and both of them blushed, both felt unbelievably warm.

“So, obviously nothing has to happen,” Eren rambled. “I’m pretty sure neither of us thought this would happen. I mean, I’m psyched either way because I got a 100, so don’t feel like an obligation or anything, because you have this weird thing about making me happy. Don’t worry about that. Seriously.”

She didn’t say anything.

“It was a dumb thing to say anyway. At the time and now. I really don’t know why I said that. It was way over the line. And I—”

His eyes flicked to her hands, which were unbuttoning her tight shirt. He couldn’t pry his eyes off of the exposed skin popping out of the shirt, desperately peeking out to breathe. Her skin looked paler there, constantly confined.

His mouth was open and his eyes were glued to her now exposed cleavage. Her top was on the couch now. The blood was roaring in his ears, pounding through his body. The way she was looking up at him, the way there’s even less fabric between him and her chest.

This was all too much. It was too real. He wasn’t ready for this— not with her of all people. What if he made a mistake? What if he took it too far? This wasn’t like last time. There was more intent— it was solely attraction.

Her hands were moving again. His brain was short-circuiting. He was frozen, only his chest was moving rapidly. It felt like all the air in the world wasn’t enough.

Before he could process it, the black bra he’d seen through her tight white shirt for two years now was on the floor.

Eren couldn’t breathe. The noise he let out was uncharacteristic, animalistic. He eyes roamed her face, he felt like he couldn’t look anymore. He wasn’t expecting any of this to actually happen, and he definitely wasn’t expecting this when it started to happen.

There she was, topless, looking at Eren in such a way that he’s never seen on her before. The way he knew he looked when he thought of her.

His arm started reaching up, pausing just above her skin. He didn’t broke eye contact with her. His hand hovered right over her breast.

She placed her hand over his and closed the gap. He stepped forward and rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

He felt her push his hand closer and up. He felt her heartbeat, somehow beating even faster than his. He felt her nipple against the palm of his hand— and it was all real.

His fingers started to curl as he squeezed lightly, letting out another uncharacteristic whimper. Wait, that wasn’t me. That was all her.

He opened his eyes and saw hers were closed, lips barely parted, breathing rapidly and pushing his hand infinitely closer to her.

The feeling wasn’t enough. Both of them wanted to feel even closer to each other.

Eren used his other hand to lift her head and he kissed her desperately. All of the blood was draining from his head. She made him feel lightheaded and he fell to the couch.

She sat on top of him, still kissing him, pawing at his shoulders. This was it, the opportunity he’d lost.

He kissed from her lips to her ear, her ear to her neck, then to her chest. He wanted to memorize every bit of her.

She tilted her head back as he pawed at her bum with one hand and her boob with the other. Mikasa tilted her head back as Eren continued to kiss her chest and neck, mindlessly letting whatever noises her body made slip out.

This made it impossible for them to hear the door open. Armin sighed as he quietly closed the door and said nothing as he hid them from his view with his hand and ran quickly to his room, catching a quick glance at the exam on the counter.

#aot fanfiction #snk fanfic #eremika #eremika fanfic #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #eren x mikasa #college universe #i see them in like 20s #armin arlert #even tho i wrote mikasa you could just replace it all with yn #eremika smut #jjkeremika #i have to tag myself bc i wrote it lmao

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