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#and i never talk in class because i never know what to say but I did this time!
thatfandomslut · 23 hours
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Not Into Guys
Regina George x Lesbian!Reader
Word Count: 1k
Trigger Warnings: Aaron Samuels (i'm joking, they're besties), underage drinking
Request:
Can I please request a fic where Regina is like “I know your secret you like Aaron” and super flirty reader is confused and like “Why would I like him when you’re here” and Regina is shocked and it’s super cute and they’re gay for each other!
Mean Girls requests are open.
This all started because of a rumor accidentally started by none other than Gretchen Wieners. "I heard her flirting with Aaron Samuels. She called him her boy toy." Gretchen informed Regina who crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair in thought. It wasn't hidden information that Regina George liked (Y/n). Regina thought they had a thing. Obviously, she was wrong if (Y/n) claimed Aaron to be her 'boy toy.' As she listened to Gretchen go on about everything she had heard, Regina's icy blue eyes landed on (Y/n) as she made her entrance into the classroom.
Typically, Regina had only kind things to say about (Y/n). Unfortunately, her entering with Aaron seemed to cause anything nice to leave her mind as she narrowed her eyes at them. She just couldn't understand why anyone in their right mind would choose Aaron over her. She was gorgeous, popular, and rich. However, Regina supposed that Aaron was kind and funny. People didn't usually associate Regina with those two attributes. Instead, they associated her with beautiful but mean. Which, was right, of course. Regina just hoped that wasn't something (Y/n) thought of her. She wanted (Y/n) to like her the way she did (Y/n).
"This class is kind of lame. I might leave before it starts," Regina interrupted Gretchen, hoping she would stop talking about (Y/n) and Aaron. If she had to hear any more information about them being together, she would either vomit or kill Gretchen. There was a possibility that both of those scenarios were likely, and she would commit both rather than either. Fortunately, the honey blonde beside her seemed to catch on, and she stopped talking about them. "It's not like I'm ever going to actually need geometry. I have people to do my math for me."
Karen nodded enthusiastically at the point that she made. Regina could easily ask Cady if she needed someone to look over floor plans. She was above math, she decided. Aaron had left once the bell rang, leaving (Y/n) by herself at her desk. A small, devilish smirk crossed Regina's lips as she stood up. "(Y/n), I was thinking about skipping class. Would you like to join us?" Regina questioned, and it didn't take a second thought for (Y/n) to accept the invite. Just like Regina, she didn't necessarily care for math. Instead, she would rather escape the confines of those four walls that held math puns and math memes due to the teacher trying to fit in. Karen and Gretchen were about to follow Regina out before she told them to stay. She had some things to talk to (Y/n) about. Specifically, things involving Aaron Samuels and why (Y/n) thought that Aaron was better than her.
Regina would never deny the fact that she was the jealous type. She had decided a long time ago that (Y/n) was going to be her girlfriend, Aaron wasn't going to ruin this plan with his boyish good looks or boy-next-door kindness. That was why Regina brought (Y/n) to the mall, to show off her money in an attempt to woo (Y/n). An attempt that failed as (Y/n) had to assure her over and over again that she didn't want anything Prada or Gucci. Regina was beginning to wonder how attached (Y/n) was to Aaron. If she couldn't convince her to date her over name-brand items, how was she going to convince her to date her at all?
"Okay, what's wrong, Regina?" (Y/n) questioned once they got to the food court. She was starting to grow concerned when Regina didn't comment on how badly styled the mannequins were like she usually did. She was starting to think that maybe it was something that she was doing wrong. If Regina would communicate with her, she would be able to accommodate and change whatever she was doing that was bothering Regina. "I feel like I've done something to upset you."
Regina realized she was beginning to let what Gretchen said about (Y/n) and Aaron get to her. However, instead of being able to keep it in, she was expressing it. A smile crossed her lips as she played it off. "Everything is fine, you did nothing wrong. Now that we're here, though, we can have girl talk." The two girls sat down, confusion bubbling (Y/n) at how quickly Regina changed her mood. "I know you're secret… You like Aaron Samuels." Regina stated confidently, looking down at (Y/n).
(Y/n), on the other hand, was only growing more confused. She wanted to laugh because of how confident Regina had said that. It was completely false. "Why would I have a crush on Aaron when you're here?" She questioned, crossing her arms as she looked up at Regina. It was unintentionally smooth. It caught Regina off guard as her cheeks began to heat up slightly at what she had said. "Aaron is my best friend, and I'm a lesbian." (Y/n) told Regina, wondering why she even thought she was remotely into him.
"Didn't you say he was your boy toy though? I've had great sources tell me this." Regina claimed. She sometimes needed to remind herself that Gretchen took information and ran with it. (Y/n) smiled a bit as shook her head. Leaning in, she kissed Regina, who reciprocated happily. She could hear her heart beating in her ear as she tried to keep herself from messing the kiss up by smiling at it. "Okay, okay, fine… You're not into Aaron."
(Y/n) laughed a bit at the comment before Regina pulled her back into a kiss. This time, she kissed deeper, not as nervous as the first time. Though, her heartbeat remained loud in her ears as they kissed. Regina couldn't care less if anyone was scowling, because all that mattered to her in that moment was how (Y/n)'s hands felt as they cupped her cheeks.
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iwendix · 3 days
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DO ME A FAVOR,
GIVE ME A TASTE
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𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: not proofreaded(there's probably misspellings and mistakes but rn I'm too tired to do anything about them😭). smut with just a little bit of a plot. a lot bit of manipulation. fingering, pussy licking, breasts play, teasing, dom!harin, sub!reader, praise kink, praise receiving!reader, good girl!reader, unnie!harin, strap using. reader innocent and harin loves to have control over such a gentle flower, it feels comforting for her.
𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: you always had been in A, but a few months ago this changed, and now on every vote you're a B. were you a perfectionist or did you just want more power and status? who knows. but one thing is clear: you want to become A again and harin can help you with this, and very opportunely, you notice harin’s constant glances at yourself.
you always get the same rank from the very first day that harin started the pyramid game, you never doubted what rank you would get, it was always obvious A. let's say, being the heiress of a rich family was a kind of guarantee of success in voting for you. your carefree life continued for a long time, but suddenly, during the 13th game when you opened the app you saw your name in column B. that's when your eyes widened and fists clenched in annoyance and kinda discomfort. harin, sitting nearby, saw your reaction and the corner of her lips slightly moved up, of course, you didn’t notice that cuz you were too busy with your first “failure” in game. B this is not at all bad for others and you thought the same until today, until for some reason you felt very strong discomfort from such a voting result. yes, it hurts your pride very deeply. you racked your brains for a long time trying to understand why suddenly everything changed so much and you couldn’t return to A. though, the answer was much closer than you could have imagined. knowing that you would be desperate to get the desired result, harin decided to take advantage of this. it was easy to get some people in the class not to vote for you so that you don't get higher than class B. you weren’t stupid, at least not stupid enough to don't understand that the solution to your problem — baek harin, and she’s clearly interested in you, judging by her gaze that linger on you for a little longer than it should.
well, the realization that apparently you're a little more stupid than you initially thought came precisely when you came to harin for "help" in getting back into A rank in game and offered a service in return. expecting harin to ask in return some help with homework or something like that. just how wrong you were...
"a favor in return, you say? I would like to have a taste." harin said as her eyes lingered on your face for a couple of moments before moving a little lower to your chest. her hand gently touches your belly through your shirt, smoothly moves and rises along your silk covered body to your tie. with one confident and decisive move she tugged the tie a little, pulling you towards herself forcing a quiet gasp out of you.
you find yourself in harin’s house, that same day after school she invited you, talking about how the house is empty today and is at their disposal because her parents are on a business trip for work. your unnie’s room was spacious, very simple, but cozy and luxurious. in the dimly light the king-size bed was covered with soft, silky bed linen.
you're on the bed, harin is sitting right behind you, your shirt is already unbuttoned and open enough to give access to your bra and breasts that were almost spilling out of lingerie. first you feel the gentle touch of harin's fingers on your ribs, and then her fingers easily crawl under the lace fabric, prying up the hooks of your bra and unfastening it. she touches your already bare breasts, massaging them and then plays with your nipples, pinching and squeezing them, enjoying the soft moan you let out.
"harin-ah...."
she pinched your nipples a little more now making you moan louder and unintentionally back away a little, causing you to feel her chest pressing to your back.
"yes? what is it, hm? do you want to ask unnie for something?" one of her hands continues to play with your breasts not stopping her relentless assault on your nipples and her second hand goes down to your hip bone, squeezing it a little. she leans closer causing a goosebumps to run through your body from how nice and pleasant her warm breath feels on the back of your neck. "do you want me to touch you more, princess?"
when harin squeezes your thigh bone and plays with your breasts, you feel something unfamiliar but almost painfully pleasant and uncomfortable at the same time. it's like a knot is tightening in your lower abdomen and you feel the heat between your legs as well as the wetness starts to seep through your panties.
"yes. i want you to touch me... please. i feel the heat spreading trough my body..." you mutter trying not to sound too inexperienced and eager but failing immediately.
harin changes position a little, lowering your back onto the bed and your head resting on the pillows. the girl sits next to you, lifts your skirt and pulls down your panties, revealing your wet folds to her gaze. harin humms in delight and lightly licks her own lips. harin's fingers lowered to your pussy, collect moisture and smear it over your entrance. just a moment and one of her fingers pushes inside, moving a little.
"oh god, you're so tight... such a perfect girl for me." soon two of her fingers are pushing into your wet cunt, she spreads her fingers and twists them inside, stretching you and making your legs tremble. your moans are so cute, they only arousing harin more, a wet spot soon appears on her own panties too.
"Harin-ah!..." you yelping when she enters you with a third finger and it becomes difficult for you to stay still. a new layer of fun added harin’s tongue that moves circles around your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves. her tongues licks your folds all over, while her fingers pounding into you and now her lips wrap around your clit, starting to suck on it. you arch your back and your whimpers become much more urgent, your voice trembling.
"Unnie... please... I can't... oh my god... I'm gonna... I'm-"
with a wet pop, her fingers leave your pussy, which for a few more seconds tightened around the air trying to return contact. suddenly her tongue probs inside, she alternates between tongue fucking you and sucking your already swollen clit, making slurping sounds, drinking in your juices until you cum undone on her tongue. harin raises her head, and her fingers come to your clit, massaging it and slightly prolonging your orgasm. your eyes met and pleased smirk tugged her lips, seeing how your cheeks have turned red, and beads of sweat appeared on your forehead.
"you're such a good girl, princess. though, we're not done yet. i want to try something else on you." harin's hand reaches to the bedside table from where she takes out a medium-sized strap. she quickly and easily attaches the strap to her hips and positioned herself about you.
"oh, maybe we won't?... I mean, maybe we’ll try another time..." you sound a little nervous and worrying clearly etched on your face.
harin sighs, and pat's your head gently. she speaks, her voice calming and gentle but still gives the feeling of her being in control of the situation. "you don't want to? mm, princess, we can try... It's up to you, hon, but we could try and stop if you want. if you try for me, you'll make me very happy. you want unnie to be happy, right?" her last words, of course, kinda manipulative, but still you can't help but nod a little just unable to say no. harin smirks and raised your legs, bending them at the knees and she positioned the tip of the strap near your pussy still glistening with cum. she takes your hand in her own, gently stroking it and comforting you like that. when you look distracted enough she pushes all the way inside with just one thrust. you whimper in slight pain and squeeze her hand, your breathe catches in your throat. harin doesn’t move her hips for a few seconds, let you get used to the feeling of fullness and stretchiness.
"good girl... see, it wasn't that hard, right? I'm happy with you, princess. I'm so proud of you. such a gentle little flower... but still taking me so good." harin at first began to move her hips smoothly, later picking up speed, thrusting faster and harder. she pulled away and then slamms all the way back inside, hitting the sweet spot inside you. her thrusts were a little irregular but so good... she makes you moan, whimper and beg for more. in the end of the day you're becoming a breathless, blushing mess all hot and bothered, stretche and wet, just lying on the bed, your head on her chest while she plays with your hair
"by the way... as i said before, I'll help you return to A rank, princess."
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itsbecomeblue · 3 days
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glue 002 ellie williams imagine
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don't dare forget about palestine
sinopse: you might have a crush on your friend, college!au
cw: swearing, basically fluff, ellie plays soccer, puppy love again because that's my thing, slightly nerdy loser!ellie, reader and ellie are oblivious, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread.
you had been up all morning, not up really, awake. it was 11:43 when you actually got up, sick to your core. niyah had checked on you before she left for her classes, leaving you some cash for lunch, it's not like you didn't have any but niyah just felt like a mom sometimes. she also gave you a forehead kiss.
you rubbed your eyes while your other hand hugged your aching stomach. you grabbed your phone and squinted at the brightness of the screen.
“shit fuck.” you hissed, boy did your head hurt. you had suspicions that ellie had made so much nervousness pile up in you that it was threatening to explode your head and your poor stomach.
you had always been a little… anxious and got nervous when you hung out with new people, especially without your best friends. they were your safe space, you smiled sweetly thinkin about them, so you read over the texts on your group chat ‘take ur meds’. never the instagram one, because it's just your friend luana spamming instagram reels.
you laughed at your phone, turning it off just to wait for your friends to show up, you knew they would. you grabbed a piece of fruit and sat down again.
you grabbed your little notebook where you did all of your journaling, you always read some pieces before actually writing in it, so you did that. ‘ellie’ this ‘ellie’ that, from just last night before you got sick. but maybe you had already been sick from the moment she stepped into the room.
sick in your stomach, crippling nervousness. you and ellie hung out so much 1 on 1, so you assumed that's what happens when two anxious people get together to talk alone, even though you had known each other for a while now. you didn't give it much thought, well maybe you did. you wrote in pink ink...
‘she's so cute’ ummm late night thoughts were so funny to read over, right? just hilarious. ‘ellie williams #8’ adorned with stars and hearts? you were already sick last night, for sure!
on the other side of campus, ellie was at class but her mind was on the same side of campus as yours. ellie was very much in tune with her feelings for you, she'd say. ‘we're so awkward, we need to get closer!’ that's all you two needed, right? just that. she sighted, you looked at her adorned name in your notebook, she imagined your face adorned with flowers and asteroids?
she needs to pay attention in class! she'll think about you later, she wants to text you but she'll see you at lunch anyways so she decides against the text. ellie tried her best to focus on her boring class, impatiently waiting to see you again.
abby had texted you a few to let you know she was coming over, she was your childhood friend, inseparable at that. caring and loving, gentle giant abigail anderson. she was now on your carpet in front of you bed.
“so, did you take your meds?” she laughed, abby was a med student and definitely a good one but damn her she didn't know shit about pharmacy.
they might’ve teached her some of it, but this girl had very selective memory, it's not like you know what they teach at med school anyway. but you still thought she should cure you everytime you got sick, all your other friends agreed too.
“yep, i looked it up. turns out my friend being in med school doesn't serve me anything.” you stretched my leg to touch her with your feet and she gave you a disgusted look.
“you're such a bitch to me, i came to see you, sick girl.” she grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you with no force.
“abbyyy!” you laughed and tried yanking your feet back and she used more of her strength. she laughed with you and you felt less sick.
you two kept it up until you were falling off your bed onto her, she grabbed your torso, manhandling you so you looked at her. she looked mischievous, she had something up her sleeve.
“how's our favorite soccer star?” she smirks and you look scared, head jumping up and hitting hers. “hey! ouch lil girl…”
she soothed her head before soothing yours, with harsh pats... you weren't sure if she was soothing you or actively making it worse. you both laughed again, what the hell was wrong with you? you had slipped out of her thighs and sat on the carpet, right next to her.
“she's…” you coughed. “she's alright, i saw her yesterday.” you nodded to yourself and abby nodded back.
“right… right…” abby stared at you, smirk still in her lips, waiting for something.
you thought of what she might’ve wanted you to say. you used your brain so much that you realized something, eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed.
"what? you look like you developed your first thought.” she chuckled and you looked frightened.
“i forgot to tell her i'm sick.” you searched for your phone around the carpet and the bed.
“why would you have to tell her?” abby leaned back, watching you look for you phone.
"you know, even if she was a nurse in your wet dream, i don't think she can help.” she added when you ignored her.
“abby.” you actually slapped her nape and she hissed. “we were supposed to have lunch together, i don't wanna be rude and leave her hanging.”
“oooohh you're bailing her on your lunch date.” abby loved pressing your buttons and she knew which ones to press.
“yeah, our date at the campus cafeteria, abigail.” you found your phone under a pillow, one that you were sure you checked before. whatever, you texted ellie.
“abigail is crazyyy…” abby got up and peeped your phone from behind and you pushed her face, the fat on her cheek smushed. “sweetness, let me see.”
abby had a big sweet tooth growing so when you became friends, her dad started calling you tooth and sweetness, since she could never get enough of you. she clinged to it even now, when she was being nice but really often when she pissed you off.
“fine, tooth.” you caressed the cheek you had pushed. she laughed and playfully bit your shoulder as you turned off your phone.
“it's fine, y/n. she'll understand, of course.” abby slurred, you turned to her.
“yeah, i know. i wanted to see her though.” you rubbed your nose sitting on the carpet again, followed by abby.
“you'll see her soon, it's alright.” she patted your head and you looked at her blankly. “what? don't wanna see me too?” she pushed you head and snickered.
“i do, stop abby!” you laughed, pushing her back.
“you gotta crush and now you're gonna abandon me and lua.” she shook her head. “you won't abandon niyah because you live with her, but who knows! you might move in with ellie.”
“what are you even talking about?” you chuckled at her while she tried to maintain a serious face. “i'm not abandoning anyone.”
"AHA! so you do have a crush on ellie, lil girl…” she laughed loud, slapping her knee, now it was your turn to maintain a serious face while she laughed.
“first, you’re not funny. second, i don't have a crush on anyone.” she arched her eyebrow you held her temples, pressing her eyebrows back to their place. “stop, i don't”.
“be for real with me, pookie wookie.” you cringed hard with her.
“you can leave.” you both laughed so loud until she stopped and tapped your lap. “but she makes me nervous.”
“i know she does, might be something, don't you think?”
“mmm, i don't think so, we're both pretty anxious people so…” you shrugged and abby did too, she'd never pry.
“you might be right, time will tell.” she casually says as gets up. “you wanna order some? “i'm hungry.” you nod and she takes her phone out.
ellie on the other hand, is frowning at your texts, she's upset she won’t see you and she's upset you're sick. she immediately texted her friends dina and jesse about it, asking to have lunch with them instead.
she'd waited for them to meet up with her on campus, holding her phone. she wanted to text you again, but you probably needed rest so she opted out to spam texting cat, who wouldn't reply to the groupchat texts. cat was a fucking ghost most of the times, even when they dated... girl gets busy. when dina and jesse finally got there they walked together.
“y/n bailed on you, damn.” jesse shook his head ironically and dina rolled her eyes.
“shut up, jesse.” dina tickled his ear and smirked. they were walking towards the local subway.
“yeah shut up, she's sick dude.” ellie replied, with little to no humor.
her friends noticed. her hands were in her jeans pockets and she was looking down, jesse and dina knew her all to well to know she was even just slightly upset. childhood friends are like that, you'd know. abby was exactly like that with you.
“what's wrong?” jesse asked, palming her shoulder. dina stopped walking but ellie kept going, making them get back to walking too.
“nothin’. it's dumb, i just miss y/n or whatever.” ellie slurred, looking at her sneakers. jesse and dina chucked and she snickered.
“okay, okay. my bad.” jesse looked sternly at dina so she'd stop laughing. “you had plans?”
“actually yeah, i was gonna invite her to see me play saturday.” she looked up.
“it's wednesday, man. you can ask her later.” jesse started. “right?” he looked for ellie's eyes.
“as in a date?” dina asked, not afraid to. ellie was always open with them, she wasn't embarrassed by her feelings even though sometimes she was confused.
“nah, not a date. and yes i can ask later, but i get nervous and… i dunno.” she held her fingers as she sighed.
“just say it, els.” dina chuckled, jesse and ellie chuckled back.
“yeah, alright. i want her to see me play but i get nervous to ask and i thought i’d do it today.” ellie laughed at herself. dina and jesse nodded, they understood her.
“it's alright, you will ask. don't worry, she's gonna be thrilled.” jesse slapped ellie's back and dina looked at him in disgust.
"thrilled" dina mocked jesse, holding her fingers up as quotes.
they all busted out laughing as they got closer to the subways shop, talking about the saturday game, but never distracted ellie from the thoughts of you.
taglist: @mikellie @amberputh @ellslvr @elliesactualgirlfriend @macaroni676 @onlinelesbo @aispike @kalyxvfx @ellieschair
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lis-likes-fics · 3 days
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Princess II
Pairings: Eddie Munson x rich!Reader Word Count: 18k words Warnings: Slow burn, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, strangers to best friends to lovers... A/N: This was so much fun to write. It took like....over a year to finish this two-parted but it's done and I love them so much. They're literally idiots. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you! (And a special thanks to my beta reader, you're amazing!)
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The months pass smoothly, and soon you've been incorporated into aspects of Eddie's life that you've dreamt of for years.
It started with you ditching the cheerleading squad at lunch to go sit with Eddie and his friends. They were so sweet to you, if not a little flirty. Dustin was always eager to see you at lunch, showing off his intelligence or quick-wit any chance he got. He was all smiles, treating you like his cool aunt who got him just about anything he asked for because you liked to spoil him.
Mike was also excited, but he was also a little more open to accepting gifts and things from you. But he was the middle child in his family, so you kind of expected it.
Gareth, Fred, and Jeff all had similar reactions. Though Fred was more skeptical of having a girl like you in the group, you were easy to warm up to. Gareth and Fred constantly flirted with you, but you suspect they did it more for Eddie's annoyance than yours. You warmed up to them.
But Eddie.
The first day you went to sit with them, he'd made one of his buddies get up and move so you could sit next to him. It was a complete change in fondness, like his comfortability to you had skyrocketed to the other end of his kindness.
He included you in every chat, asked questions that weren't awkward but let him and the group get to know you. You really felt comfortable there, like one of them. You expected to feel a little off, but you didn't. They were so kind.
Everyone sneered for a while. The first couple of days were full of glares and snickers from those of other tables. But the longer you sat there, the less people cared. Whatever. You could do what you want, you're the princess. Eddie's comments on how people pick on him and his friends dwindled, though it never fully disappeared.
The squad wasn't so happy, not that you cared. They talked about it to your face and behind your back. It always got back to you of course, Chrissy kept you updated.
You actually managed to pull Chrissy a couple of times to sit with you and Eddie. She enjoyed it just as much as you.
Soon you started joining them during their campaigns. You just sat out and watched at first, serving as their cheerleader, until Eddie pulled you in by your waist, sat you down next to him like you always do now, and let you join in as any character of your choosing. You were an orc named Bill.
The longer you were friends with Eddie, the closer you got, and you loved every second. You went from sitting at his lunch table to playing campaigns with him to regularly going to his house (to the point where you could walk in and Wayne would wave and point down the hall where Eddie sat in his room) to spending just about every day glued to his side, his inseparable friend.
Eddie had always wanted a friend like that, though he'd never admit it, adamant on maintaining his reputation as a freakish outsider who didn't need anyone, who adopted all the other losers into his band of rejects.
He'd always wanted someone who loved spending that much time with him. He's way more happy than he'd like to admit that you haven't gotten tired of him yet.
Spring break comes and goes. You spend the whole of it with Eddie, except for the one day your parents decided to take you to one of the charity events in town. You spent the whole of it with Chrissy in a pretty dress that Eddie said he liked—considering she was in the same class as you and your parents were close friends.
You learned a lot of things over the time you spent as Eddie's friend.
You learned that every time he's asked what his favorite color is, he says black or red just to be edgy when, really, it's baby blue.
You learned that he loves pizza, he could finish an entire pie by himself in under ten minutes. Then he'd smile at you with his face covered in pizza sauce and you'd feel like you were going to puke, you're so in love.
He claims to be ambidextrous, but you've seen his left-handed penmanship and there's nothing ambidextrous about it. He likes loud, thundering music, but you've seen him turn into a softy from the slow, quiet kinds you never thought he'd be into. He lifts sometimes, revealing to you how lean he actually was when you walked in on him shirtless in his room once with weights in his hands.
You'd left the room to recuperate. He'd teased you about it for weeks.
He's terrible at math but he's a decent writer, he's a nice singer—and you melt every time you hear him sing, no matter the genre—he can draw, he can read three different books in one week, he cannot cook, but he can boil the hell out of some water. Wayne was very happy when you showed up in Eddie's life and started cooking for them.
You watched him learn the entirety of Metallica's new song, Master of Puppets, in under a month.
Choosing to become Eddie's friend was a terrible decision in only one way: every single day, he gives you more and more reason to fall deeper in love with him. Your heart is so full, you think you'll die.
You don't know if Eddie knowing that you like him is better or worse. On one hand, he knows he definitely has the option if he really wants it. On the other, he doesn't know just how much you have fallen and him being him tears you apart from the inside out.
But if this is the closest you'll get to him, you'll gladly burn inside just to get the chance to hold his hand.
~
After pulling up in front of your house, Eddie opens your door like a gentleman so you can make him study for a test he had that you knew he wouldn't do otherwise. He slung your bag over one shoulder, grabbing his own to do on the other side.
"Wait!" you tell him as he's slamming the door. You rush inside, smiling wide as you disappear into the house. Eddie follows you, taking his sweet time about it. You're already running down the stairs as he reaches the door after finally walking the length of your huge driveway.
You come out with your hands behind your back, smiling too big for your face as you look at him. He raises a brow, dropping both your backpacks inside by the door and leaning to the side. His knee pops out, making him look as sassy as he probably feels.
"Another gift?" he asks, almost exasperated as he recognizes that sticky sweet smile on your face. He loves it but the amount of gifts you shower him with is insane sometimes.
"Are you trying to buy my love or something?" he teases. "Is this a bribe, Princess?" He lifts his brow ridiculously high and lowers his voice ridiculously low, as if talking in secret.
You roll your eyes at his theatrics. "Don't be ridiculous," you shake your head. "It's a gift."
He shrugs a shoulder. "Same difference."
You scoff. "Shut up and close your eyes." He makes a teasing snort but does as he's told. You bite the very tip of your lip. "Hold out your hands." He does it.
You pull the long, yellow envelope from behind your back, tied with a thin white ribbon to make the most exaggerated bow he'd ever see. You watch his brows change at the feeling of the paper in his hands, curiosity leaking out.
"Now open."
He does. Looking down at the envelope, he raises a brow and stares at it, as though it would open on command. He fingers the glued down flap of the letter and glances at you with hesitant eyes. "What is this?"
He pulls the glue free and begins to pull out two, just as long, slips of laminated paper. Looking up at you, he can see how bubbly you were with the excitement to show him your latest gifts. Or "bribes", as he liked to call them—all out of good fun!... you think.
The words pour from your lips. "Two backstage tickets to Metallica next week!" You bring it back once the biggest part of the reveal was said. "They're on tour, and I know you like them."
He stares at you with wide eyes, but he doesn't smile. You wait for his grateful reply for a while before what you are met with is a loud, "What?"
Your excitement turns to shivering fear as you stare, worried. "Is it the wrong band?" Suddenly, all the worst scenarios you worried about come to mind. "Shit, did I mess up?" You start mumbling to yourself. "I know I checked and then double checked. Maybe the tickets are wrong. Fuck, what did I do—?"
He stops you with his heavy hands on your shoulders, weighing you down but also providing a lot of comforting warmth as he looks you in the eye with the same level of intensity. "You got me V.I.P. tickets to see Metallica perform?"
"In Indianapolis, yes."
He stares at you a moment longer before he's shoving you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you flush against his body. The hug is warm and enveloping and much too close for friendship, and you hug him back just as closely, almost feeling as though you could cry of how wonderful it felt to have his scent all around you, his arms around your waist, his crazy hair tickling your face and shoulders.
After a beat too long, he's hoisting you off your feet and spinning you in a circle that has your body flying for a moment. He sets you down as you're both giggling, and when he pulls back to see you, his lips are set in the biggest smile you have ever seen. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare wide-eyed at him, and whatever was left slips out when his thumbs smooth circles along your sides as his hands stay set on your waist.
"You are fucking amazing," he says too fondly.
You gaze warmly at him, feeling your heart skipping too many beats. You need to go to the hospital.
Then his whole demeanor changes once more as his face drops into near frustration. "And extravagant," he adds suddenly. "Why the fuck did you get these for me?"
You honestly expected his hands to leave you by now, but they stayed at your sides with the envelope held between his fingers. You set your hands on his arms, shrugging as you smile earnestly.
"For us," you say, hoping not to scare him away with that. "Because I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it."
Eddie doesn't know what he's done to deserve something as special as this, but he just smiles down at it with the joy of a little boy getting a dog he's been wanting all his life for his birthday. You hear him curse under his breath.
"I gotta go tell Wayne," he beams. He scoops you into his arms again, squeezing tighter this time as he laughs happily, his elation infecting you. He sets you down, looking over your face. He's moving and speaking faster than you think he thinks he is, but it just makes you smile some more.
"Ah, I fuckin' love you. I'll see you later!" He tears away from you, turning around and sprinting toward his van to drive haphazardly down the road to get back to his uncle. He's waving at you through the window as he pulls away.
Meanwhile, you stand at the door with wide eyes and stilled breath, frozen on the porch. His words replay in your head like a mantra, like a prayer that you've been waiting for as you smile a little.
"He loves me," you sigh. Then you shake your head, hoping not to be as delusional as you feel. "Just a figure of speech..." you chew your lip, "probably..." you furrow your brows, "most likely."
You sigh as you shake and bow your head. "I'm talking to myself again."
You turn on your heel and set a course down the sidewalk, walking a few houses down with fast feet and an even quicker beating heart. Four doors down, you come up the path to Chrissy's house and start repeatedly pounding on the door, because it was more dramatic than letting yourself in.
You hear her as she approaches the door because she yells, "Y/N, I'm coming!"
The door opens and Chrissy stands on the other side with a raised brow and a sigh. She sees you standing there with your conflicted look as she furrows her brow. "What happened?"
You walk past her, venturing into the house and walking right up the stairs as she follows behind you, unphased as she closes the door. "I gave the tickets to Eddie."
"And?" she asks as she follows you up the stairs.
"He loved them," you say over your shoulder, shrugging. "He was, like, super excited."
She smiles wide, her whole face lights up. "That's great!"
You get to the top of the stairs on your way to her room, stopping at one of the doors prior and knocking gently before pushing it open. "Hi, Carter."
The boy looks at you and smiles wide, waving his hand as he returns his greeting. You smile back and close the door, instantly falling back into your contemplation as you burst into Chrissy's room and plopped down at the edge of her bed.
"So," she prompts. "Is it a date?"
You furrow your brow, granting her a confused look. "What? No, don't be ridiculous."
She rolls her eyes, "Right..."
"But he..." you trail off, chewing on your lower lip as you keep thinking to yourself, replaying the moment over and over and over again with the over-analysis of a skilled theorist.
"What?" she asks, urging you to finally spit it out.
"He, like," you look at her and release your lip in favor of speaking as you try and fail not to smile at the memory—as though it was a cherished thing that had been living in your brain for years. She follows the loose narration your hands give as you speak. "He picked me up and spun me around and said something about telling his uncle, and then..."
You hesitate to say it, hiding your face a little behind your hands. Chrissy sighs heavily, playfully impatient with your slowly developing, weird relationship with Eddie. "What? What did he do?"
You blush and smile too wide. Your face hurts. "He said 'I fuckin' love you', and then drove off." You're suddenly really giddy. "He said he fuckin' loves me!" You beam at Chrissy before quickly backtracking. "I know it was probably just a figure of speech or something, right? Like, he doesn't actually love me, he was just super happy. Heat of the moment. Right?"
This left your mouth as a word vomit and, honestly, Chrissy just watched you with a wide range of emotions crossing her face. Confusion, joy, passive frustration, hints of awaiting sarcasm...
She shrugs a shoulder, sitting next to you on the bed and attempting to soothe your scorching nerves. "I mean, probably, but you spend so much time together... who knows," she smiled wide suddenly, "maybe he's coming around."
Your grin is hopeful, your eyes glisten as you smile at her and she smiles wider and chuckles at the look. "You think so?"
"Sure!" she exclaims, eager to get you to the optimistic side of things.
"Maybe you're right," you nod to assure yourself, hoping that saying it out loud will bring it into existence. "Maybe you're right." You breathe in and out and sit up straight, nodding once more before you turn your gaze to Chrissy again. You take her hands in yours and squeeze gently. "The concert's next week, I need you to help me get ready."
"Absolutely," she beams. "You couldn't pay me not to help."
You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a bone-crushing hug. Chrissy, a native to your affection, takes it with an excited laugh and no acknowledgement to your strength.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Of course," she smiles, before pulling out of your arms and waving a playfully scolding finger at your face. "But you owe me."
You shrug. "I always do." You think for a moment. "We'll get lunch and go to the mall. Check out that store you like. An outfit of your choice, my treat."
"Deal," she said immediately. Rolling her eyes and smiling, she sighs dreamily. "I love leeching off rich people."
You roll your own eyes, not as dreamily. "You're also rich, Chris."
She shrugs, letting her shoulders sag lazily at her sides like a ragdoll. "I know, but you're my bitch."
You gasp dramatically. "Christina Elizabeth Cunningham! You watch your language."
She snorts. "Bitch, please."
You shove her back onto the bed and start for her kitchen. You're hungry and you're sure she hasn't eaten yet...
~
You close your locker with a snap. As you look up, you notice Tommy H on the other side, staring you down with an unimpressed look upon his face. You can see the rest of his group surrounding his locker to peer into the conversation, looking like a flock of pigeons—all bulgy eyes and flicking heads.
You sigh internally and turn to him, smiling as sweetly as you always do. "Hey, Tommy." You check your watch quickly.
"Hi," he says back, feeling slick.
You move your bag from your side to place your science books in, glancing at him as you do it. "Is there something I can help you with? I gotta get to class."
He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one leg over the other and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his lettermen. He shrugs his shoulders heavily, and your eyes fall on his Class of '85 patch—where it should now read '86 after an unfortunate grade point average in his last, slacked off year.
"You're hanging out with Munson now?" He raises a brow.
You sling your bag back over your shoulder. "Yeah?" You raised your brow, failing to see his point. "Is that supposed to be a problem or something?"
"I mean..." he trails off, laughing lightly like it's obvious. You just stare at him, almost looking clueless as he stumbles over his words to try and come up with an argument. He shrugs, "It's Munson."
You make a face. He scoffs.
"I mean, you seriously blew off a game for him?"
Oh. That makes more sense.
You've been hanging out with Eddie for months, and they haven't commented that much because you could do whatever you wanted because you... well, you're you.
But you did kiss the game last night. It wasn't a really serious one—at least, you don't think it was—and Eddie had a huge campaign he practically begged you to go to, and you accepted because you loved his campaigns way more than a stupid game (that, and the fact that you're head over heels in love with him). You told Chrissy, she covered for you.
You shrug. "We lost the game."
He scrambled for a comeback. "Yeah? Well, maybe we wouldn't have if you had been there. It's called moral support sweetheart."
You straighten your back and try not to make a face, continuing to remain friendly as you close your eyes. "First of all, don't call me that." He shrugs. "Second, there will be more games and more hangouts and whatever else. I'm hanging out with Eddie Munson, so what? He's my friend."
He scowls. "He's Eddie Munson."
You make a face, confusion raising your brow and lip. You pause, waiting for a follow-up. "You say that like it's supposed to prove a point."
Tommy scoffs. "Okay, how about this?" He towers over you, his elbow propped high up on your locker in an attempt to intimidate you. His red-freckled face is stern. "He's a freak."
He nearly spits the word in your face, and he smirks when he does it.
You tilt your head and smile.
"How about this..." You clear your throat and brush imaginary lint from his lettermen. "If you call Eddie a freak one more time," you look up at his face again, smiling a little sweeter and speaking a little slower, "I will personally see to it that my parents stop inviting yours to our parties."
His face pales.
"You'll be moved to our blacklist. From there, people will stop respecting you. And, by then, you'll be scrambling to get back in with us, and you'll look desperate doing it." Your eyes darken but your smile is perfectly intact as you watch his fear overcome him.
"I'll work you so far to the bottom that even the name Munson will hold less disdain in this town than Hagan." Your smile drops. You look cold.
"Do I make myself clear?"
He swallows thickly, finding his voice again after cracking on his first attempt. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yes."
"Great!" You clap once as you smile brightly once more. The warning bell cracks loudly, echoing through the halls with a shrill screech. Both you and the bell startle him as he flinches, sighing heavily as you pat your shoulder twice. "Thank you. Don't be late for class."
He hesitates, shaking his head and walking away to rejoin his posse pretending to not have been listening in to the conversation. "Yeah," he mumbles as you watch him leave.
"That was scary."
You turn and smile wide when you see Eddie, leaning on the lockers with an impressed look. "I can be very scary," you joke.
"Tell me about it." He rolls his eyes, and you lightly smack his shoulder at the insinuation. You both start walking down the hall to your shared science class. "What was that about?"
You glance over your shoulder to where Tommy and his friends are walking away, throwing half-hearted scowls at Eddie over their shoulders.
"Oh," you say, smiling to yourself almost maliciously. You shock Eddie for a moment with the brief look. "Just a little... nudge in the right direction."
His whole demeanor changes as he turns his body to face you, walking still as his feet side step to keep up with you. "Did you just threaten Tommy H for me?"
"'Course," you smile. "We're friends, Eddie, and I protect my friends... even if that means destroying social lives forever."
He sighs a laugh. "Startin' to think you like destroying social lives."
You both walk into class together just as the bell rings, moving to your seats as you lean in and whisper dramatically. "Only when they're assholes."
He gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "Has her majesty just spoiled her tongue with the dirty language of the peasants?" he exclaims quietly in his best posh, British accent.
"I'm afraid she has," you play along in an accent of your own, though it's not as perfect as his. He's got an impeccable accent. "It can be quite hard to keep one's tongue guarded when met with the incompetence of the lower class, or even that of the upper."
He snorted, "Then, forgive me, my liege. I shall do my best to keep you away from the clutches of the incompetent."
You both laugh quietly amongst yourselves.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he snorts again, shaking his head with a seeking shudder.
You wink at him. "Never get on my bad side."
You direct your attention to the teacher. Eddie watches the side of your face and laughs again, shaking his head and readjusting after spending too much time taking in the sight of the side of your face.
You're pretty. He hopes he never gets on your bad side.
~
With Chrissy out with Jason, you have no one to calm your nerves as the time for Eddie to come pick you up grows closer. You've already dressed in the clothes you both picked out, she'd done your makeup before she had to leave, and you're walking around your room in your heels as you await his arrival.
You check yourself in the mirror one last time before the sound of your doorbell echoes through the house. You grab your stuff faster than you've ever done anything in your life, rushing down the stairs dangerously fast in your heels and throwing the front door open before your father's hand can even brush the handle.
Upon seeing you answer, he decides to walk away. Whatever you want...
You open the door and smile wide at Eddie, ignoring how nervous you feel at the sight of yourself. You feel sort of...out of place. This isn't your vibe but you are hoping he likes it anyway.
Eddie's eyes bulge and his mouth drops open.
He takes you in. Dressed head to toe in leather, he eyes your little red skirt and your black bustier top decorated with red roses. It looks so tight, he wonders how you're still able to breathe. You've got a garter belt wrapped tightly around your thigh, just peeking out from under your skirt, in more black leather. In knee high platforms, you've gone up a couple more inches in height. Even your makeup, with sharp wings, a tiny eyeliner heart on the apple of your cheek, and red lipstick a dark shade of blood.
Eddie feels like he just fell fifty feet and smacked his face on concrete, knocking all the air from his lungs and making it impossible to breathe. You are drop dead gorgeous.
"Wow."
You don't take it as well as he expected, nerves sinking in as you look over yourself quickly, wiping your hands down the skirt. "Too much?"
He shakes his head. "You look..." he trails off, lost in thought before shaking his head to bring himself back, "great. Really great."
You take it for what it is and smile. "Thanks," you blush. "Chrissy helped. You don't look half bad yourself."
And you mean it. He's in nearly as much leather as you. With black leather pants that cling to his body like chains, lacing running up the sides that seem to make them even tighter, he looks like a rockstar in his old Metallica muscle tee (the one where the logo is so faded, you can hardly see it).
You're not surprised to see his leather jacket and his battle vest, nor are you to see him wearing his own eyeliner, an extra edge you've seen during his concerts at the Hideout—though yours is admittedly done better. His hair is frizzier than ever, a look you tried to copy as well as you could but believe you fell short on (Eddie thinks your aces).
Eddie shakes his head. "Wow," he mumbles again, more breathless this time.
"You said that already."
"My bad," he says, not meaning it.
You shake your head and smile sweetly. "No, it's nice."
After staring again for too long, he clears his throat and smiles again, returning to his stupid antics that make you laugh constantly, like you've gone insane.
"You ready to go?" he asks.
"Yeah." You turn and yell into the house, cupping your hands around your mouth as you do it. "Bye, Daddy! Bye, Mom!"
Your mother's voice calls back, "Be back by sundown."
"What your mother said," says your father.
You close the door and walk with Eddie. "Uhm," he says. "We will not be back by sundown."
"It doesn't matter," your shrug. "They say it more as a courtesy. They'll forget I'm even gone."
"Ah," he mutters, though you don't seem too fazed by it. Almost like this is the norm for you. Maybe it is...
He takes you to his van, opening your door like a gentleman and loading you in. He hops into his own seat, slamming his door extra hard because it's been pretty stubborn lately.
As soon as he starts the engine, his music blares through the speakers, "Holy Diver" by Dio. You flinch, shocked by the sound but not upset. He immediately goes to turn it down, and once he's dialed it one way, you dial it the other.
Eddie looks over at you, your head already banging to the music as you rock enthusiastically in your seat. He stares at you, his parted lips curling in a grin. He thinks you're amazing.
"Are we going?" you ask half-jokingly when you catch him staring, speaking so loud you nearly blow your vocal chords trying speak over the music. You poke his side.
He over-exaggerates, recoiling in on himself and flailing back against his window like he'd been shot. You roll your eyes. And he lays there for a while, really dragging it out until you lightly smack his shoulder. The music blares.
"Eddie!"
"Ow– Hey!" he exclaims, even though you barely touched him.
You shake your head. "Drive."
"Okay, bossy," he says. He turns the music down just a bit and starts down the road. It's still loud, and your parents might get a complaint, but it's unlikely because the neighbors would be too afraid of offending them.
He nods lightly to the music, turning it down another smudge to ask, "You hungry?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes. He's going to give you a hernia.
"Not much," you shrug. "You?"
He also shrugs, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the wheel. He leans on his right arm rest, glancing over at you. "I'm always down for food," he winks. "But we could probably wait 'til we get there."
"If you wanna eat, we can."
He shakes his head. "Nag, we'll have a shit ton of free time. We'll be, like," he checks the time, "three hours early."
You snort. He's usually three hours late.
"Okay," you nod. You turn to him, smiling. "Oh, we could check out this new place my parent's friend's daughter told me about."
He laughs lightly, "Is she not your friend?"
You shrug a shoulder. As far as your friendships go, you recognize you don't really have many. Chrissy is the love of your life, as you tell her constantly, but she's the only person you've held close to your heart for years.
But your parents are rich. Their friends' kids are supposed to be your friends, but you've never acclimated to that thinking.
"Eh," you mumble. "We don't really consider ourselves friends, we just know each other." Her parents are also rich, and she's within the same category as you.
He hums. "Yeah, we can check it out." He sets his hand closer to yours, his pinky brushing yours. To avoid seeming too intimate, not wanting to complicate the friendship you've created, he wraps his pinky with yours and shakes it around.
Not intimate, just friendly.
"Is it fancy?"
You shake your head. "Not really." I squeeze his finger, grabbing his hand in both yours and forming his to lace your fingers together. "My parents and their rich friends spoil me with expensive stuff all the time, so I like the cheaper stuff a little more."
You purse your lips, looking away from your hands to look at his face. "But I don't like telling people that because I feel like I sound bratty."
He shakes his head. "Nah, you're not bratty." He lets go of your hand and lightly nudges the side of your face with his palm. You snort, swatting his hand away. "You're just bossy."
"Shut up," you laugh.
His face lights up at the proof of him being right. "See?" he laughs. "You're bossy. You're so bossy!"
You roll your eyes at him, "If you weren't driving, I'd hit you."
His eyes widen. "You're violent," he accuses. "You're violent now!"
You groan loudly, turning away from him with the most exaggeration you can manage. He laughs loudly. It's a ridiculous guffaw, and you feel the van swerve a little. You're so used to his driving by now, though, that it doesn't faze you.
When his laughter dies down and you're urge to burst into your own fit of giggles eases with it, he sighs dramatically to announce the end of his joke. "So," he hums, "if I gave you the choice to go someplace fancy with the best steak in town or a McDonald's," he leans toward you, tearing his eyes from the road at a stoplight to look at you, "what are you picking?"
You let a slow smile spread across your lips as you look at his stupid face with his stupid eyes and his stupid nose, and his stupid lips. You chuckle lightly, taking him in some more. "Well, you can't beat those nuggets."
He laughs again, still just as loud and dramatic as the first one. You love it, and you can't help but to laugh with him this time.
"No, you can't." He smiles at you, staring at your face a little longer than he probably should.
Eddie jumps when a loud honk interrupts his examination. Turning to the light, he sees that it is a very bright green. "Shit," he curses under his breath as he steps on the gas.
The van jolts, but your gaze lingered on him too long to notice. A slip of anxiety creeps up on you as a thought flashes behind your eyes. You hook your finger through one of the holes in your fishnets. You lean on your armrest. "Was that your way of asking me out, or am I dreaming?" You say it with enough amusement coloring your voice that it gives you the option to back out of it as a joke as soon as it is required.
And it was required.
"Fast asleep, Princess," he smiles, chuckling lightly as his eyes stay on the road in front of him. You ignore the stutter in your heart, covering your disappointment with a chuckle of your own and roll your eyes.
"Playing hard to get, huh?" you joke, trying not to be too sad about his lack of falling in love with you. You've still got him, even if you don't have him in your arms.
Eddie's fingers reach for the dashboard as he turns up the radio, turning the heavy rock up louder and louder. "What?" he shouts over the music, drowning your giggles in the song (though he can still hear them because he's listening very specifically for them). "I can't hear you over the music. What did you say?"
You smack his shoulder, giddy with his jokes. "Asshole!" you exclaim, crossing your arms in a faux pout. You both laugh out loud, big and dramatic and happy to be there. And as he turns down the radio before he blows your precious eardrums, he finds himself oddly tender with the sound of your joy. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he has to breathe a little more to steady his traitor of a heart.
~
You're nearly late, despite arriving there a whole hour early. Eddie had found a McDonald's and got so caught up in taking you that you both lost the time. You were in the middle of wiping Sweet N Sour sauce off his face when you realized it on the hands of your watch.
You almost got pulled over twice.
But you get there just as the lights are dimming. It's a huge opener—guitars and drums and screaming vocals, fans cheering and crying, headbanging and jumping and a couple of already too-drunk patrons puking in the back.
Eddie is ecstatic. He loves every part of it—the screaming, the crying, the puking. He takes it all in stride and stands really close to you as he does it.
He keeps looking at your face. Through the haze of flashing lights and so much excitement his heart might stop, he keeps looking at your face. You're really pretty, dressed in his style, smiling like a maniac, dancing to his music.
He was so scared you would hate it, this scene, his scene. He was scared you were going to show up and stand uncomfortably, smile in that people-pleasing way and bear through it until it was over.
But you don't.
You're beautiful. You glow under the lights, you're wonderful as you dance and sway and headbang to hell.
You keep smiling at him. You keep grabbing his hands and jumping to the beat of the music, and he jumps with you and he holds your hands. He can't help but adore you.
Part of him hopes it doesn't stick. He's not sure he could handle his heart beating this fast.
By the time the concert is over, you're both sweaty and hyped and tired but so happy. You both flash your VIP passes—you more confidently than him—and rush backstage with all the other VIPs.
He's buzzing with excitement as his sweaty hand shakes that of each member of the band. He does it wide-eyed, gleaming and entirely unbelieving. If his other hand was gripping yours, he'd think this was a dream.
A really freaky, amazing dream.
You both get shirts, personal autographs, and a lifelong experience that you load into his van with buzzing and heavy limbs. He helps you in, closing your door like a gentleman, and you slump against your seat.
Eddie gets in, slamming his door shut because it's a little stubborn. He starts the engine and turns the radio down all the way to a gentle background hum.
He doesn't turn his eyes toward you until he's pulled out of the insanity that is leaving the parking lot. When he glances over at you, you're asleep.
He'd wanted to thank you.
You're really pretty like this: eyes delicately closed, lips slightly parted. Granted, you're always pretty.
He has to look away before his chest starts hurting again.
Fuck.
He looks away from you quickly, gripping the wheel to get a handle on himself. He didn't mean to do this, to like you. Being friends was one thing, becoming best friends was another...
But actually starting to like you...
He isn't supposed to. You don't live in his world. He doesn't live in yours. More than that...
Actually, he's not sure. He just knows that... he wasn't supposed to begin liking you. His feelings for you were supposed to remain platonic.
But now he's not so sure.
There are a couple things he's sure of though.
You're beautiful, dressed like a metalhead or a cheerleader, you're beautiful. And he adores you, inside and out. And he wants you to know that.
~
"Hey, Princess."
You turn, giving Eddie a wide smile as he walks up to your locker. He's got his hand behind his back in an obvious, and you laugh at that as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. "Hi, Eddie."
He leans on your locker, nervous and proud at the same time as he smiles. His hair is freshly washed—still damp and curly with conditioner. It'll be fully frizzed by the end of the day, you know it.
"I got you something. Well, I made you something," he says. "Close your eyes." You do as you're told, smiling as you do. "Give me your hand."
You're almost giddy as you lift it, presenting it to him. He sets something in your palm. It's light, your brows furrow.
"Okay, open."
You do, looking at your palm. Your smile falls a little as you look at it. A bracelet made with black leather, braided together with a few little silver beads woven in. You look at the silver charm. A skull with a crown on it.
He made this himself.
"Eddie..." You swallow thickly, blinking quickly so you aren't crying your mascara off. People don't do things like this for you—no one but Chrissy.
"Do you hate it?" There's an anxiety there that kick-starts your heart. He braces himself for a 'yes' before you have to remind him that you're you, and you're deeply in love with him.
"I love it," you urge him, using your best smile to convince him of that fact. "It's beautiful."
Hope sparks in his eyes. He smiles a bit. "Really?"
"Yeah!" you promise. "I'll wear it forever."
You shove it in his hand, and he immediately understands your request without you even having to ask. You hold out your wrist as he fastens the bracelet on. It's a perfect fit.
You coo as you look at it. "I really love this, Eddie..." Then suddenly, "Oh! This reminds me. I got this for you–"
"No, no," he stops you, holding out a hand as you reach into your locker. "This was a gift. I'm gifting this to you."
You slump slightly, your smile falling into a confused frown as you sigh. "But..." you fiddle with the charm, "I wanna pay you back."
He shakes his head, not unkindly. "No need. I technically owe you a lot, I'm sure those tickets were expensive as hell."
You're feeling a little...nervous. No one refuses gifts from you, ever—except Chrissy, when they're really excessive. But this isn't. It's just an Iron Maiden vinyl record, one of those limited addition ones you have to really look for.
Your parents had bought it a while back at an auction because a lot of people were bidding on it. But it just sits in a case in the living room collecting dust—they don't listen to that kind of music. They only got it because a lot of people wanted it.
Eddie would like it. He'd appreciate it...
"But–"
"No buts," he says, his tone final. "Let me do this for you."
You pull your hand away from your locker, sighing. You nod slowly, offering a weak smile. "Okay..."
This isn't the last time that happens. Through the next few weeks, Eddie keeps declining your gifts. You try to give him the record, but before you can even get the words "I got you something" past your lips, he's telling you that you don't need to get him anything and giving you his own gift instead.
You feel like you've done something wrong.
He's giving you a lot of gifts. It's becoming harder and harder to accept them, but you couldn't stand refusing one of the presents he's made specially or used hard-earned money on for you. You couldn't do that to him, it would break his heart. But...
It's a lot of gifts. And he isn't even letting you repay the favor to make it even.
There's a problem. You just don't know what. So you do the only thing you can do.
You ask Chrissy.
You walk up the steps to Chrissy's house, pushing the door open and heading straight up the stairs.
"Hello, Y/N," Chrissy's father calls, not lifting his eyes from his newspaper.
"Hi, Mr. Cunningham." You go down the hall, barging through Chrissy's door and closing it tightly behind you. She steps out of her closet, her brows furrowed as she looks at you. Though she's unsurprised.
She does this to you almost as often as you do to her, though you have admittedly more drama than her. You're more radioactive than she is.
"We have a crisis." You plop down on her bed.
She leans on the frame of her closet door, crossing her arms over her chest. "What crisis?"
You lay down, covering your face with your hands and, in doing so, muffling your words. "I think Eddie's mad at me."
She understands you perfectly. "Why?" she asks as she walks over and sets her hands on your thighs, leaning over you. You look at her. "What happened?"
"He's not taking any of my gifts anymore!" You sit up on your hands, but she doesn't move. "I'm trying to give him stuff 'cause he keeps getting me stuff. I mean, whenever I'm mad at my parents, and they try to bribe me to get over it, I just don't accept their gifts."
She shrugs. "Okay," she thinks. She moves off of you, walking back to her closet. "But why would he give you things if he was mad at you?" She disappears inside. "Besides, what have you done?"
You stand, following her in. She's sifting through her wardrobe, looking for her outfit for tomorrow. She does it every day, usually with your help.
"I don't know!" you sigh, looking through her choice of skirts. "That's why I'm worried. I don't know what I've done, and guys are weird."
She holds up two skirts to show you: one short and flowy pale blue and one bright pink two sizes too small. You hum, picking the blue. The pink doesn't suit her skin anyway.
"Or maybe," you continue, "maybe he thinks I'm mad at him, and that's why he keeps giving me stuff."
She shakes her head. "I think you're reading too much into this, babe."
Your head shake is far more intense than hers. "I am reading perfectly into this. I show my love by buying people things, I gift give! I'm basically Santa as a teenage girl. Here." You pass her a white shirt, long sleeved and pretty.
She takes it. "Thanks." Then she hums. "Interesting analogy."
You shrug, sitting on the little stool in her closet with a sigh. "I mean, how would Santa feel if kids just...stopped taking his gifts and started giving him a whole bunch of them?"
Probably special, Chrissy thinks.
"He'd be frantic!"
Chrissy can't help but giggle lightly at that. She loves you, but you're a little ridiculous sometimes. She shakes her head and turns to you and picks up two pairs of shoes. She holds them up as she kneels in front of you, showing them off. "Have you tried talking to him?"
You choose the white sneakers over the black flats. "I don't want to say something bad and mess this up." You rest your chin in your hand. "We were doing so well."
She sighs, setting both pairs down. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."
You sigh. "You're right." And then you stand. "It's worse."
She stands and places her hands on your shoulders, making you sit again. "Okay, maybe you're exaggerating this a little bit."
Your shoulders slump. "Am I?"
"Yes." She laughs lightly to take the weight off it. She breathes in slowly. "Take a breath. Calm down."
She takes your head and takes you back into her bedroom, making you sit on the bed. She sits across from her, her legs crossed as she sways some hair behind her ear. She takes your hands.
"Eddie is not rich, he doesn't have a lot of money like your family," she begins to explain. "People who are not rich don't always enjoy accepting gifts because it makes them feel like they're inconveniencing you."
Your brows pull together, and you frown. "He's not an inconvenience."
"I know," she smiles. It looks beautiful on her. "He's already gotten so much stuff from you, plus those tickets? I'm not surprised he's trying to pay you back. He's not going to let you give him anything else until he feels like he has."
You assume the worst, looking down at your joined hands and sighing. "So that we're even, and he can stop feeling obligated to be friends with me."
"No," she urges. "So he can stop thinking that you might think he's using you for your money." She shrugs, "He probably just feels bad."
You think about her reasoning. Her explanation actually makes way more sense than your own.
"Yeah," she says. "Just talk to him. I'm sure it's just that."
You sigh, covering your face. "This is so weird."
She takes your wrists, pulling them away. Her voice takes on an annoyed tone. You can practically hear her eye rolls. "Because most of the people who are 'friends' with you are only friends because you buy them nice things."
You nod. "Yeah."
"Except for me, of course," she smiles, almost proudly.
You chuckle. "Except for you."
She sighs, letting go of you and shoving you to stand. "Go talk to Eddie."
You take a breath. "Okay..." You give her your best smile. "Thanks, Chris. You're the best." You kiss her cheek on the way out as you turn toward the door.
"I know," she says matter-of-factly. "Love you."
You open her door, peering your head in. You kiss at her. "Love you back."
She begins to stand. "Also," she looks back at you, tilting her head, "tell your bitch mom to stop shrinking your clothes so she can loosen them. She's an ugly old hag–"
"Y/N!"
"–and you're beautiful and perfect, and I love you. I'm serious, I'll beat her ass."
"Leave!" She closes the door in your face, but you know she's laughing on the other side, grateful for your comments.
~
Eddie is sitting on the porch with his acoustic when you drive up. The engine halts when you pull out your key, standing and closing the door behind you. He likes your car. It's sleek and beautiful. Very expensive because your parents bought it for you when you first got your license.
He keeps strumming his guitar as you make your way up the stairs. "Hey, Princess," he greets you.
"Hey," you mutter, the nerves grabbing at your throat as you come to stand next to him. You fidget with your fingers, sitting next to him on the bench.
"Eds, can we talk?"
He hums, still strumming. "About what?" When you don't respond, he looks up at you. He stops, moving his guitar off his lap with furrowed brows.
"Woah," he says, noticing your worried face. "What's wrong?"
You take a moment to think, sighing as you try to figure out what you were going to say. You rehearsed it in the car, thoroughly, and it's all blanking staring at his wide eyes, brown as coffee.
"Are you mad at me?"
He looks confused. "Why would you think that?" He grabs your hand, and you don't know if you're imagining his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Because you aren't letting me gift you things."
He doesn't do what you expect—though you're not entirely sure what you were expecting. Eddie smiles, a wide thing that splits his face in two. His eyes almost look like they're shining as he looks at you. You don't feel patronized when he does it, either. It's oddly warming.
"You think I'm mad at you because I'm not letting you gift me things?" he clarifies, almost shocked, though he knows he shouldn't be.
So he's not mad at you? That makes you feel a little better...
"Well," you sigh. "When my parents and I argue, they buy me things to make me feel better. I always say no."
He softens, smiling gently and taking your hand between his. "Sweetheart," he says slowly, "I'm not mad at you. I just don't want you to think I only like you for your money, especially after that concert. That's a huge gesture for someone you only started hanging out with two months ago."
You sigh, looking away from his eyes to think. Chrissy was right, he feels guilty for accepting your gifts. This whole thing is new to you. You're so used up from serving everybody else. Now someone is trying to serve you, and you completely mistook it for anger...
"I'm not used to that," you admit.
"To what?"
You shrug, "People not accepting gifts from me... other than Chrissy." You smile a little, but it falls quickly. Sighing, you look back up at him, squeezing his hands just a slight. "Most of my friends are friends because I bought them their prom tickets last year or invited them to a party or something."
Eddie smiles again. He seems to scoot closer to you, both your thighs squishing together and leaving no space between your bodies. He nudges your shoulder and then pushes you away a bit because he's too affectionate. "I don't like you because you have money and buy me nice things." He chuckles lightly. "Actually, the reason I didn't like you in the first place was because you have money and buy people nice things."
You smile a little and Eddie feels like the special-est person on Earth. He knows it's silly and too affectionate but he can't help it. Eddie's crooked finger hooks underneath your chin and lifts it to look right at him. "I like you for you."
It's moments like these when your love for Eddie can't be measured. It's moments like these when your love for Eddie feels more mature than a schoolgirl crush. It's that moment when you're imagining more than parties or prom or dates or celebrations, when your mind is full of thoughts of sitting quietly in the living room or watching a movie at three o'clock in the afternoon because it's a stay-at-home-day or fixing dinner as he wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder or reading a book while he scratches his head and files taxes at the kitchen table.
You smile fondly, and Eddie thinks you're the strongest whiskey because he gets dizzy at the sight of you.
"Really?" you mumble, your voice soft and sweet.
"Yeah," he nods. "You're awesome, sweetheart."
You love when Eddie calls you 'Princess' in that funny, affectionate way, but when he calls you 'sweetheart; you lose all your senses in the blink of an eye.
"Really?" It's the only thing you can think to say.
"Absolutely."
"Okay..."
Then you get brave—as brave as you can get. Licking your bottom lip, you look down at your lap and smile nervously. To have to gather the courage to look him in the eye as you smile gently at him. "You know how you can repay me for the concert?"
He laughs, shaking his head. "How?"
You bite the inside of your cheek, another breath for courage—"Go to prom with me?"
Eddie's smile falls. "I-"
"You don't have to go as my date. I just don't want to go alone," you say quickly, trying not to trap him or manipulate him or make him think you're trying to do either. "Chrissy's going with Jason, and I don't want to be a third wheel..." You sigh, looking him in the eyes and feeling your heart palpitating.
"Please?"
You're going to kill him one day, he's sure of it. The way his heart kicks at the sight of your pleading eyes is fatal, and he knows it because he can feel it in his chest. He sighs. It's his own fault. He let you be friends, and now he's head over heels...
"...Sure," he agrees. When you beam at him, the largest grin he's ever seen in his life, it's all worth it, his stupidity. "We'll go together."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he says. "Just two friends...going to prom."
You'll take that. You would take a million "just two friends" over "we don't talk anymore". You'd do anything for him. "Yeah," you smile. "Thanks, Eds."
It's all worth it to see you smile. "No problem."
~
Eddie's nervous. You can tell in the way he keeps bumping into you. You would dismiss it as just the way the place is crowded, stocked to the brim with sweaty bodies, some already drunk in the first hour and others high.
Eddie's been to parties before, obviously. He's done senior year three times, of course he's been to parties.
But he's not used to being around so many people and not being stared at. Almost no one is looking at him.
"Why are we going to this thing again?" he'd asked as you were getting ready.
You shrugged. "It's pre-prom."
"But there's actual prom."
You smoothed out your lipstick before you turned to him. "Yeah, but actual prom is kinda boring 'cause of the family-friendly rules. Pre-prom is hosted by students with no real adult supervision, so...less boring." You shrugged again, turning away to fix a stray hair. "Besides, I have to make an appearance. Me and Chrissy since we're in the running for Prom Queen. Otherwise, we get no votes."
"People'll vote for you anyway," he smiled.
"I always just want a drink or two."
He laughed a little. "We can just go to my place then." When you shook your head and laughed at him, he did the same. "Why am I going?"
"Because you have to. 'Cause you're my date." You turned quickly, eyes wide and hands out, "My plus one." You think about it for a moment. "My friend-date."
"Your date," he agrees, nodding and laughing and hoping you don't freak out because he called himself your date when you're just going as friends. Just friends.
"Yeah, I'll go with you, Princess." He sighs dramatically so he doesn't sound too wistful.
But now he wishes he'd convinced you to just go to his place and lounge on his couch, watching stupid movies and eating popcorn and then throwing popcorn at the screen when they do something stupid.
He holds your hand. You squeeze it, pulling him further inside with you and comforting him with all you have.
It becomes easier when you find Chrissy. Chrissy is very welcoming and helps you help Eddie settle because she's sweet and you're sweet and he loves you—your sweetness—he loves your sweetness.
When he has a beer in his hand—his only beer tonight, he's decided—and your hand in his other, he's laughing and letting you dance around him. Some people get upset with him when he accidentally bumps into them, and others give him dirty looks for the sake of giving dirty looks, but under the light in your eyes, he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice.
He watches your nose scrunch up in that adorable way that means you're truly happy. He keeps looking at you with the fondest eyes and the gentlest touches and the most wonderful smiles. You can't take it—he's so pretty with his doe eyes and smile lines and long lashes and his big nose and crazy hair and plump lips.
"Quit smiling at me," you giggle, pulling on his hand in yours. "I can't focus when you look at me like that."
"Like what?" he laughs. Then he makes a face, his eyes going wide and his smile showing all his teeth and his brows pulling together goofily. "Like this?"
"No, not like that," you laugh, smacking his shoulder lightly. He hears a squeak in your giggle and is thrown into his own fit. All your best laughs have squeaks in them. "Go back to how you were!"
You're both too sweet on each other, and he laces your fingers together to make sure you can't go away—even though you'd never.
"Oh, so now you want me to look at you?" he hums.
"Just not like a crazy person." He pulls you in so you're flat against his chest, and you don't have time to let your breath hitch until he's spinning you out again.
"How does a crazy person look?" He sets his beer down, pushing his hands into his hair and shaking it up. It sticks out all kinds of ways, a total mess.
"Like that," you nod dramatically.
"Like that?"
"Yeah." You add to the madness, your fingers carding through his hair. "Certified insane. It's a good look on you."
He snorts, fixing his hair again, "Yeah, I think so, too." When it's only in slight disarray, he sighs and looks down at you.
Eddie thinks you're beautiful. He likes your hair and your face and your soft hands and your pretty lips and bright eyes. He wants to hug you, but he'll settle for taking your hand when he realizes he's been staring at you for too long.
He starts pulling you with him as he walks. "Come on. I–"
A surprised gasp forces its way from your chest. You don't have time to process what's happening until after it's done. All you know is that it gets really cold and wet, and now your white dress is stained a bright red.
A round of snickering is heard above you. You look up to see a group of boys laughing obnoxiously over the stairs, a large bowl once filled with punch braced in their hands as they do. Everyone stands in shock, all talk ceasing when they see the sight of you drenched in red and these boys cracking up from it. It takes them a moment to catch wise...
Eddie is the first one to snap out of the shock, ignoring his hand, sleeve, and shoes just as wet. He mumbles something under his breath. Even in the relative silence, you don't make out the tiny "baby" that slips from his lips.
He sees your bottom lip tremble, your lashes already clumped with punch now clumping with the oncoming tears. The sudden urge to make everything okay again fills every inch of his bones. And as he looks up at these boys who'd hurt you, he wants nothing more than to let his fist meet pompous cheekbones.
"Tommy?" Your voice is meek, wavering with a brimming sorrow.
The other boys stop laughing immediately, looking down at you as their eyes fill with shock...and even fear. Tommy H, the main culprit, isn't so quick. When he notices their sudden change, he looks down as well.
That was meant for Eddie. Not you.
Now he knows fear.
Eddie watches your face contort even more until you're crying, tears falling down your cheeks and adding to the mess. He reaches out for your face, but you don't seem to notice as you rush past him, sniffles and all.
Eddie doesn't even get to shoot Tommy a threatening glare. He completely forgets about him for the moment in favor of following you through the house and out of the door, his shoes squeak-squeaking behind him.
He guesses you notice him following, because you reach a hand out behind you and catch his as you continue running out. Everyone parts ways, letting you pass without trouble. Eddie hears shouting behind him but keeps after you without a second thought.
You make it all the way to his van, parked outside in the crowded mess of cars and trucks. He opens the back doors for you so you can sit properly. You do, dropping your face in your hands as your chest heaves and you sob.
"Are you okay?" he asks, almost frantically. He runs his hands through your hair and gets you to look up at him so he can see your face clearly. It's covered in tears and punch and running mascara.
That same silent "oh, baby," passes his lips again, but you can hardly see the movement of it through your tears, so it's lost on you once more. Eddie's hands move to cradle your face. You keep sniffling, letting your body shake with shuddering breaths.
A horrible feeling curls in his chest. "Jesus," he mutters ruefully. "I should go back there and beat his ass."
He looks in the direction of the house, but you're already stopping him. "No, wait," you sniff. "It's okay."
But he's pissed. "No, it definitely is not okay–"
He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening forcefully. You both turn to see what's happening. As soon as you see Tommy H's freckled face, you hide in Eddie's chest. His gentle hands keep you there, rubbing and comforting you.
Tommy's running. He and the friends who hadn't escaped bolt from the house faster than Eddie thinks he's ever seen anyone run.
Someone hollers inside, and suddenly the entire football team is chasing after the boys, shouting and whooping and out for blood in the cover of street lamps in the night.
Directly behind them, Chrissy, Steve Harrington, and some brown-haired girl, stand by the door. They look after the boys but ultimately turn toward you. Chrissy doesn't look at all worried.
Eddie's attention is caught by a shouting voice.
"Y/N!" Jason Carver yells. "Do you need a ride home?"
You look up from Eddie's chest, wipe your face a little, and shake your head. "No. Eddie's taking me." You sniffle pitifully, "But thank you, Jason."
He nods, "No problem." Turning to Eddie, he raises his finger in a harsh point. "Take her home safe, Munson, or I'll skin you like a cat." He turns in the direction they're running, still in sight. He shouts loudly. "You better fucking run, you son of a bitch!"
"Hey, it's okay," you say, "You can let Tommy go." Eddie looks at you, obviously disagreeing, but says nothing.
Jason makes a face. "Why would I do that?" Then he's off again, shouting after the team and the runners.
You look toward the figures walking toward you and Eddie. Chrissy shakes her head gently, seemingly amused (only to you) but not smiling. Steve's expression is completely different, as he looks genuinely concerned but ultimately sympathetic. The other girl looks worried.
"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks, setting his hands on his hips and leaning.
You nod, wiping your nose and rubbing your hands on your wet clothes. It's not coming out. "Yeah..." you mumble, squeezing a couple tears out.
He sighs, "Tommy's way outta line for that one. I'm sorry, princess."
Eddie gets jealous for a moment that he's called you by his name for you before he remembers... Everyone calls you princess. It's basically your name.
"S'okay."
You glance at the girl, who gives a small nervous smile. She mouths silently, "I'm Robin." You give her the best smile you can manage. "Hope you're okay," she says gently.
Chrissy nods gently to herself. She shoots you a look, "Don't catch a cold." She looks at Eddie. "Get home safe. Both of you. Bye, babe."
You wave at her, a tiny lift of your hand from your lap. Another tear slips down your cheek.
"Come on, sweetheart."
Eddie braces a hand behind your back and eases you to stand. You do, taking his hand and letting him lead you. Steve pats his back gently before he's stepping away. Eddie closes the back door and opens your own like a gentleman. The three wave their goodbyes and start back toward the house.
He closes your door and goes to his side. The engine roars to life after having to twist the key a couple times. He starts driving. You're really quiet.
Eddie reaches a hand down and sets it gently on your knee, hoping it's not weird but also too worried about you to care. "Are you okay, Princess?"
You nod. "Yeah." You take in a large breath.
He shakes his head, his hand flexing on the wheel. "Why would you want them to let him go?" He hates the idea of someone hurting you and getting away with it. You deserve so much more.
"Hm?" You look at him, wiping the tears in your eyes. "Oh, I don't." You clear your throat and sniff. As you lick your lips, your face scrunches at the taste of alcoholic punch and lipstick. Eddie watches you try to wipe your face clean as best you can with your hands.
Your face scrunches. "Shit, I'm all sticky now."
Eddie's going to get whiplash.
"What?"
"Hm?" you look at him again. All evidence of your crying is gone. Your teary eyes are now only slightly watering, with your face kind of clean, no new fresh tears take their place. The sadness is wiped clean. You look back at him with the least amount of sorrow he's ever seen on you.
When you feel the van turning, you say his name and it swerves back in place. He puts his other hand back on the wheel.
"You were faking it?"
Suddenly, you smile. Eddie can't stand you.
"Of course," you say, shrugging. "It's just punch."
He sighs, feeling a little stupid but mostly just...amused. And really fucking relieved. He hates seeing you cry. You deserve so much more.
"I thought you were upset."
You laugh and he no longer has any reason to be upset. "No," you chuckle, "but Tommy's not happy."
He shakes his head. "I'm so confused."
You smile and sigh gently. "Thomas Hagan just poured a whole punch bowl on me—" you make doe eyes, "—the sweet, innocent princess of Hawkins—and then laughed his ass off like it was the funniest shit in the world." You shake your head, not at all upset. "He's not coming back from that."
Eddie smiles slowly. You're enjoying this. "You little–"
"He'll be blacklisted. No more hangouts, no more parties. He's done."
Eddie can't believe you. "Manipulative."
You pinch your fingers slightly and smile as you look through them. "Just a little."
"You're seriously not upset?" he wonders.
You're drenched head to toe, your hair is clumpy, your skin is sticky, your makeup is running all over your face, and your dress is forever ruined. But you're smiling like all is well with the world.
Again, you shrug. "I'll have to take a long shower now, but I'm okay."
He snorts lightly. "I bet."
You lean in slowly, smirking and bobbing your brows. "Never get on my bad side." A reminder. The one he asked for the last time Tommy had done something unbecoming.
And Eddie laughs. Not because he doesn't take you seriously, but because he just likes you so much. You are... everything to him.
Doing his best to keep his eyes on the road, he laughs loudly and fills the van with the sound of it. You get giddy at accomplishing such a feat and can't help but laugh with him. It's loud and obnoxious and just what you both needed. Warmth blooms in your chest, despite the cold shivers coming in, and you couldn't be happier.
~
Eddie pulls up on the curb, opening your door—like a gentleman—and helping you out. You mumble a quick apology about his sticky seats, to which he replies that those seats have seen worse. You don't know what he means, but you're hoping your idea is wrong.
In the driveway, yours and your dad's cars are parked and idle. Your mother is gone on a business trip—her boss' secretary—so he's probably home alone.
"Play it cool," you whisper to Eddie as you get to the door, messing with your sticky hair to make it look worse than it is. "How do I look?"
"Terrible," he lies.
"Great," you beam. You let your face fall immediately, and you look pitifully pretty.
You take Eddie's hand and let him open the door for you. As he's closing it, you glance around. "Daddy?"
"Yes, honey." You hear his footsteps as he enters the foyer. He turns the corner, "I thought you would be out longer–"
He looks up, stopping abruptly as he realizes what a mess you are. He furrows his brows, walking closer. "What happened to you?" He goes in to hug you, pausing when he sniffs. "Why do you smell like that?"
"Just..." you sniffle and Eddie watches a tear slip down your cheek. He thinks you're ridiculous, and he loves every moment of it. "Something happened at the party."
He picks up your hands and holds them in his palms. "What happened?"
You shake your head, looking down at the buttons of his shirt. Eddie stands close behind you, a hand on your back for support. It's warm, and you like the feeling of it. "Nothing."
"No," your father hums, tilting your chin up to look at him, "tell me."
You take in a big breath and let it out in a sigh. Your bottom lip trembles. "Tommy H," you confess. "He poured punch over my head on top of the stairs." You will more tears from your eyes. Your breath hitches, and you shake your head, "I'm sure it was an accident... He probably didn't mean to do it."
Technically, he didn't. It was meant for Eddie. But that's no better. You did warn him.
He raises a brow. "It looks like he spilled the whole bowl on you." He looks at his hand, red fruit punch staining his palm now.
You nod, a slow up and down that has him frowning deeper.
"Hey," he hums. "He won't mess with you anymore."
"Really?"
He nods, holding your chin. "Of course. No one messes with my little girl and gets away with it. We're cutting him off."
Bingo.
You shake your head, "It's okay. You don't have to do that."
He smiles gently, "But I will." He nudges your chin gently before letting you go. "Go get washed up."
He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and begins wiping his hands clean. "Thank you, Daddy." You would hug him, but you're still sticky. You're sure he wouldn't mind, but you'd rather avoid the mess anyway.
"Of course, honey." You kiss his cheek as you turn toward the stairs with Eddie's hand in yours. As his foot lands on the first stair, your father stops him.
"Hey."
Eddie turns.
"Did you drive her home?"
"Yes, sir."
He grunts. "Did you beat that Tommy kid up?"
Eddie shakes his head. "No, sir. Jockeys had him," he looks at you, spying a gleam in your eyes and smiling a bit. "I was just trying to get her home."
There's a short silence as your father smiles. He gives a firm nod, "Good man."
Relief fills his chest as he nods back. "Thank you, sir." You pull him up the stairs. He takes off his jacket.
You close the door behind him, your smile returning as you kick off your shoes. "Not only did we blacklist Tommy," you turn back to him, "but my dad also loves you now. Congrats."
Eddie furrows his brow as he heads toward your bathroom. "He does?" He turns on the sink, washing his sticky hands.
You nod. "Yeah." You disappear into your closet, coming back a moment later with a towel on your arm. "That's fatherly approval. You defended my honor, my knight in shining armor."
You take his arm and kiss his cheek as you walk past him. He feels giddy. "At least someone's parents love me." He starts taking off his shoes, setting them next to yours. Eddie sits at the edge of your bed.
You snort. "I'm gonna take a shower. Don't be a perv."
He kicks the floor playfully and sighs. "Ruined my whole night."
You point at him threateningly. "I'll tell my dad on you."
"I'll take pictures with me then. To remember you by." He winks.
You return the wink. "I'll make sure to pose for you."
You disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Eddie sits in your room, smiling pathetically, so happy that you're okay and he's okay and he's your knight in shining armor.
Here he is, smiling like an idiot, surrounded by the scent of you in your room with all your pictures and all your knick-knacks. He slides onto the floor, resting his head back on the mattress. God, he's in trouble.
He's flipping through one of the books on your shelves when you come out, a cloud of steam following you as you dry your hair. He looks over your outfit, smiling but offering you a confused look.
"Is that mine?"
You look down at your shirt, one of his band tees that you'd taken a couple weeks ago. He'd been looking for that. You can keep it.
"Yeah," you nod. "I stole it from your room."
He chuckles. "Well, finders, keepers, I guess."
You smile, walking toward your drawer stocked with VHS tapes. "You wanna watch a movie? I can go make popcorn."
"Sure." He raises his brows. "Can I take a shower? I don't wanna get spiked punch everywhere."
You snort. "Course. There are towels in there, and some of your clothes are in my closet."
He tilts his head, sighing. "How many of my clothes have you stolen?"
You raise your hands in defense. "Just a few shirts and like...one pair of sweatpants."
He shakes his head at you as he goes to get a pair. He closes the bathroom door softly behind him.
He likes your bathroom. It's clean and mostly organized. It smells like lavender and rose, pearly whites and pale blues. He almost expected pink.
~
Eddie appreciated the weight of your body against his as you lean into his side. Labyrinth plays on the TV as the minutes tick by into the night.
He keeps looking at you, your heavy eyes drooping as you struggle to stay awake. It's late. You should be sleeping, but you're staying awake for him. It takes a lot not to turn his head and kiss the top of your own.
"You're warm," you mumble.
He smiles a little. "Yeah?" With the arm thrown over your shoulders, his fingers play with your hair. "You gettin' sleepy?" He knows the answer.
You nod, a sluggish movement against his arm. "Mhm."
He picks up the remote slowly, turning down the TV just a little more. "You should go to sleep then."
Your body becomes a little heavier against him. He takes all your weight, proud to. "Mmm," you slur. "Finish the movie."
A very light chuckle, as light as he can make it, eases from his chest. "We can finish it another time," he says so, so softly.
"No...Watch it now."
He does kiss your hairline this time, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. "Go to sleep, bossy."
He's not sure if you mean to say it, he's not even sure if you know you've said it. But when you whisper that little "love you", he loses his mind.
He smiles so wide, he feels his whole face start to hurt. He hadn't realized it would make him so happy to hear that, to hear your little confession spoken gently into the warmth of his chest. He turns his head so his words go into your hair. "Yeah?"
"Mmm."
He opens his mouth, thinks, and smiles. "I love you, too, baby."
You hum, and then he feels you slump. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind the way he can't move his arm, he doesn't mind the way your hair gets in his face. He turns off the TV, leans back as slowly as he can, and lays the both of you down against your pillow to sleep.
You love him.
~
The entire day consists of Chrissy at your place getting ready for prom. The music doesn't stop and neither does the energy. You keep her happy and entertained and well-fed and then distracted again with more excitement so she doesn't get self-conscious and start panicking.
You also spend a lot of time keeping all the parents from the room. Your mothers keep trying to "help", and you keep having to kick them out because they're both annoying and overbearing.
Eddie keeps calling you. The walky-talky Dustin gave you both goes off regularly, at least once an hour to ask a question you'd had answered for days now.
"It is red, right? Not blue? It can't be blue; Chrissy's wearing blue." "Which knot are we doing on the bowtie? Wayne only knows the simple one but he's got a magazine with the other ones." "Am I leaving my hair down?" "I drive to your place, and then we take your car, right?"
"Yes, it's red. The whole outfit we picked is right." "Try the simple one. I can fix it if it looks weird, but it shouldn't. I trust you." "Do what makes you comfortable. I'll love it either way." "That's right. I know you really want to drive it." "Eddie, everything's gonna be fine. Don't worry."
"I know," he sighs. "I just don't wanna mess this up for you. I know you've been looking forward to it."
You giggle a bit. "As long as I get to spend time with you, Eds, tonight will be great."
"Such a charmer," he teases.
"It's my natural talent."
You set the device down, taking your spot across from Chrissy once more. She's smiling at you, albeit nervously.
"Are you sure I look okay?"
You smile, pinching her chin before reclaiming the small brush and finishing off the short, sleek wing of her eyeliner, all while holding your breath so you don't accidentally screw up. You draw a tiny heart just above the apple of her cheek.
"You are," you set the eyeliner down, "absolutely beautiful. You always are."
"Are you sure?" she says, a telling hand creeping to her belly.
You take her face in your hands, careful not to screw up her freshly done makeup. "Chrissy," you whisper, "you're perfect. Always, all the time, no matter what. I will never lie to you, and I'll never sugarcoat it. You're amazing, and I love you."
She takes a slow breath in and nods, smiling prettily. "Love you, too." You kiss her forehead.
"Now do my eyes," you smile, handing her a makeup brush. She giggles as she takes it.
And later on, as the night gets closer and the sun is beginning its descent, you and Chrissy are walking down the steps, holding each other's hands.
All the parents are gathered downstairs, smiling as your mothers cling to your fathers' sides. Your father smiles as you come down. "You both look like royalty," he declares, holding his arms open for you. Your mother moves to give you the space.
"Thank you, Daddy," you hum.
He pulls you back to see your face. "Anything for you, princess." He kisses your forehead.
Chrissy's sharing her own hug with her father. "I trust they were the dresses you wanted," he says.
She nods. "They were. Thank you, Daddy."
"Whatever you want, angel." He kisses her cheek.
Your father pats him on the back as they both wander into the kitchen, your mother follows behind them.
You try not to grimace when Laura stays back, looking her daughter up and down with a grimace of her own.
"I still think I should have loosened that dress up a little more." She moves forward, placing her hands on Chrissy's waist and trying to adjust the fabric.
Chrissy tries to smile through her discomfort. She puts a hand over her stomach and you retire your hard side-eye to come to her side. You weave your arm around her as you give her a reassuring grin.
"Well, I think you look beautiful." You nudge her chin, she smiles. "I envy you."
"I don't know," she tsks. "She's a little too big for her dress. Especially around the hips..."
You smile, turning to the side as you mumble under your breath. "Funny how you barely fit in that large sized dress."
Her brows shot up. "What was that?"
"Hm?" you ask, turning back to her. "Nothing. I was just saying you didn't need to stress."
She huffs, "You said something about a large."
Chrissy's head dips, attempting to cover a grin as you loop your arm through her elbow. "I was just...admiring your large heel."
There's silence as she stares at the both of you. Chrissy tries not to laugh at your dangerous idiocy whilst also struggling with not shrinking under her mother's terrible gaze. You have no issue in staring her right back down, your head tilting and your cordial smile held strong on your lips.
"You mean...'high' heel?" she corrects.
The tension in the air is thick. Chrissy finds it difficult to stand still as she shifts from foot to foot, staring down at the floor or the wall or her bracelet. Anything to avoid looking her mother in the eye—or you, for that matter, in fear that she would burst with laughter and build herself her own grave.
You hum and nod. "Of course. High horse—heel. My apologies."
Her hand raises to her chest, seemingly shocked by the blatant 'disrespect'. "You are being very disrespectful, young lady."
You were trying to be subtle but something about Chrissy's mother rips all the subtlety from you as you furrow your brows but continue to smile. "Oh, I wasn't aware decency was considered disrespectful."
Chrissy nudges your side gently, whispering your name in an urgent reprimanding. "What? What did I say?" you wonder.
Laura isn't having it. "Why, I should go tell your mother about your unpleasant behavior."
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You try to look regretful, but you're sure you're missing the mark by a few hairs. "Oh, forgive me, Ms. Cunningham."
She huffs. "Missus, young lady."
"Right," you nod. "Mrs. Cunningham. I apologize." You tighten your grip on Chrissy's arm just a slight, making it harder for her to keep it together. She loves you, and she thinks you're hilarious. "It's unbecoming of a lady—such as myself—to behave in such a way."
"Yes, it is," she agrees. "One would think a girl like you would behave more appropriately."
You nod firmly. "Of course. I should respect my elders—I apologize, my superiors."
You could gag at the idea of it.
But she can't stand your "disrespect" any more as she huffs and shakes her head, making a various amount of scoffing noises as she begins walking away. "The nerve of children these days."
She leaves the both of you alone. Once you're sure she's out of earshot, Chrissy bends over laughing, covering her mouth and shaking her head to keep quiet.
"You're gonna get in trouble," she whisper-yells. Instead of shoving you away, she tightens her grip to pull you closer. Your foreheads practically touch as the two of you form a conspiring huddle.
You scoff. "I'm Daddy's angel. Doesn't matter what she tells my mom—who will tell my dad—Daddy's angel knows no wrong." It's a truth you repeat often, but it's one of those truths that have always been indisputable.
"Daddy's princess," she corrects you. "I'm the angel."
You shrug, humming. "You're technically the queen."
It's funny. You probably have a higher social standing than Chrissy does, but she was always the Queen of Hawkins while you were simply the princess—not that you minded, you would always support her.
Neither of you are quite sure why that is, but you think it may be because she became a cheerleader before you and then started dating Jason Carver. It doesn't matter. As long as you have her by your side, you would accept being the jester in this high school court of a kingdom.
Chrissy smiles, another giggle rattling her body. "So strange how you don't listen to me then."
You gasp dramatically. "I do! Otherwise I'd be out of the business, Your Highness. We both know I'm a little too dramatic to process common sense sometimes." She rolls her eyes playfully at you. "Exhibit A, Eddie."
She snorts. "Yeah, you were a little confused a couple times there.*
You gasp again, pretending to elbow her in the side. "You're mean!" She giggles again as you call out. "Daddy! Time for pictures."
"Coming, princess," he calls from the kitchen.
Chrissy whispers to you, "You're crazy."
You wink. "Crazy for you."
She rolls her eyes.
All the parents return with a camera. There are a multitude of flashes as they get every possible picture they could need—you and Chrissy, you and your parents, you and your dad, Chrissy and her parents, Chrissy and her dad, Chrissy and her mom (because her mother is insistent). More pictures will be taken when the boyfriends show up.
Jason is the first of the two to show up. As you predicted, there are more pictures. And as soon as those pictures are done, he and Chrissy leave, but not without a pink kiss to your cheek.
Then Eddie shows—without blaring his music through his speakers tonight. He isn't late, in fact he's perfectly on time.
As he walks up the steps to the house, he behaves like a gentleman the whole way. He rings the doorbell, you answer it before your father can, and you give Eddie your best smile.
He looks so handsome. He's in a black tux with a red dress shirt. His black bowtie is perfect, and you're sure it's because he didn't stop until it was. You would have thought he would keep his hair down, but he wants to impress you. His hair is shiny with product and so, so curly. He's got it pulled back in a half-up man bun.
And, of course, his rings are still in place. Shiny, freshly polished. Jesus, you loved him.
"Wow," he sighs at the sight of you. His doe eyes are wide, and his plump lips are parted. He looks starstruck.
"Do you hate it?" you worry, looking down at your dress. The theme is royalty in yours and Chrissy's honors. So, as intended, you look like a princess.
He shakes his head. "No."
You try not to mess with your hair by running your hands through it. "Is it too much?"
Eddie grabs your hand, smiling as he squeezes it gently. "You look fuckin' beautiful."
Your eyes seem to shine, and Eddie thinks you're trying to kill him. "Really?" you smile.
"You look like a princess," he promises, looking at you too closely. You're so, so pretty.
Something hits him, not literally. "Oo!" he exclaims, taking a step back. He turns on his heel with no explanation and rushes back to his van. You watch him, thinking that he's a total dork and that you wanna kiss him silly. There's something about being dressed up like this and being his not-date to prom that makes your feelings for him just that much more potent.
Usually you can get through the first five minutes without imagining your faces squished together in a too-affectionate kiss, but you can't help right now but to be riddled with the fantasy.
He comes back with something uselessly hidden behind his back. "I have this. Close your eyes."
You do as you're told because you trust him, and you would hold a ticking bomb in your palms if he asked you to. You feel him place something on your head—a tiara, you presume.
"Shit," he huffs breathlessly.
You peak your eyes open, raising your hands to feel the tiara with happy fingers. You want to burst. You're so much of a princess to him that he needed to give you a tiara. You're proper royalty now.
"Too much?" you ask.
"Never," he's quick to say. He smiles. "You're perfect."
You don't know what compelled you to say it. "Shit, you might as well kiss me now."
"Huh?" he wonders, as though he wasn't paying attention. You don't think he was.
He was. He definitely was.
"Nothing," you say anyway, covering your words with a grin as you take his hand and pull him inside. "Come on, my mom wants a picture."
He raises a brow, pointing to himself like a dummy. "With me?"
"'Course." You thread your hand through his elbow, and he gladly allows it.
"Seriously?" he asks.
"Yeah," you giggle. "We'll give some to Wayne, too. I'm sure he'd like a picture."
"Yeah," he mutters, fully agreeing but also slightly confused. You like him confused, he's sweet either way.
~
Eddie is a gentleman. As soon as you get to the party, he rushes out of the car just to open your door for you—as he always does. He takes your hand in the crook of his elbow and leads you inside. You smile the whole way, and he tells you that you're pretty when you smile. Your face hurts from smiling so much.
When you're inside, the music is already pounding in the floors and a lot of people are dancing. There are also, however, plenty of people sitting at the sidelines, watching others enjoy their time. People with no dates, people with dates ignoring them, people in friend groups. You notice Tommy H's freckled face hasn't shown up yet. A sly smirk threatens to overtake your warm smile.
You and Eddie spend the first hour dealing with everyone coming up to compliment you. You both expected this. The party's just started, you're running for queen, and...you look beautiful. Eddie does his best to swat away any of the vultures. When you spy Chrissy, you stick next to her and brave the vultures together.
Until Jason pulls her away for punch. She kisses your cheek as she goes, allowing her boyfriend to drag her away again. You don't mind, it gives you time with Eddie and his excited affection.
"Sup, Harrington," he calls when he spots Steve and—the girl you've come to know as—Robin Buckley. "I thought they didn't let old men in here."
Steve rolls his eyes as his palm smacks Eddie's. "You're older than me, Munson."
Eddie shrugs that heavy shouldered shrug and snorts. "By, like, a year."
Steve shakes his head and turns away from him, setting his eyes upon you. With a warm smile, he greets you. "You look great, Y/N."
"Like, drop dead gorgeous. You are stunning," Robin spews, taking in your outfit with plenty of appreciation for your style. A tiny squeal escapes her as she does.
"Thank you," you answer genuinely. You've grown to really like Robin in a short span of time. She's so sweet and geeky, and you love getting to hang out with her and Chrissy on the days where you've kicked the boys out. "You look beautiful, Bobby."
She seems to blush, looking down at her dress and nodding. It's probably too dressy for her, but your compliment makes her feel better. "Yeah, thanks."
She nudges Steve in the side hard enough for him to bring a hand to it and mutter a weak, "Ow."
"Steve wishes he had a date. He couldn't score one," she teases.
The three of you laugh as he rolls his eyes at the abuse. He'd hoped you would at least be nice to him, but it seems you've followed in Eddie's cruel footsteps. "Har, har. Laugh it up."
Robin takes his arm then, her giggles melting into her words as she smiles wide. "Anyway, we should go check out the punch. I heard someone spiked it and now we've got booze!"
Robin starts walking away with Steve, but when he pauses, she doesn't stop to wait for him. Steve sidles up to Eddie, leaning down to whisper in his ear and keep away from your prying ones. "It's now or never, dude. Don't keep making us listen to your gross pining."
Eddie grumbles, masking his anxiety with annoyance as he rolls his eyes. "I don't pine."
Steve scoffs. "Yeah, right."
Eddie pushes him away, to which Steve raises his hands in mock defense as he goes to catch up with Robin. He waves at you on his way. As if on cue, the music changes to something slow and steady, something romantic, and Eddie thinks the world is mocking him. When Eddie turns back to you, you're smiling at a couple who'd come up to say hi. He waits patiently for them to leave before he holds his kind of shaky hand out to you.
"D'you wanna dance?" he asks after clearing his throat a couple times.
You smile that drop-dead smile at him and he finds it a little harder to breathe. You slip your hand into his palm, and he hopes his isn't sweaty. "Yeah," you mumble fondly, standing close as you let him guide you to a spot within the dancing couples. Your heart beats so fast, drowning on his nervous fondness.
He holds you with timid hands, one in your hand and one on your side. You're just familiar enough that his touch does not feel as awkward as you feel. You try not to melt against him, to lay your head upon his chest and close your eyes, to let him sway you with the gentleness he feels swelling in his chest and tingling in his fingers.
He stares at your face, and it feels natural for him to do so. Your hand on his shoulder slides further to wrap around the back of his neck. He smiles at the soft glow in your eyes, the little sparkle of life that erupts every time you look at him.
"You're really pretty," he whispers as his eyes look over all the glorious features of your face: your soft lips, your kind eyes, your plush cheeks, your adorable nose, your fluttering lashes he wants to feel lay little butterfly kisses on his face.
You look down from his eyes momentarily, hoping the warmth in your cheeks and the shortness of your breath isn't too evident. "This dress was really expensive, so I'm glad you think so–"
He doesn't mean to cut you off, but he does. "I'm not talking about the dress." He can't help it when his hand strays from your hand to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing the gentlest touch against the apple of your cheek. "You're pretty without the dress."
You stare at him with the biggest, shiniest eyes. He loves when you look at him like this.
Then he realizes maybe he weirded you out.
"N-Not, like, naked! I just meant, y'know, even without the fancy dress, just in regular clothes, too. You're just..." he clears his throat pathetically, "you're really pretty."
You tip your head back to laugh sweetly, the one with the squeaks—the one he really likes because of its sincerity. His hand wraps farther around your waist. You respond—seemingly unconsciously—by setting your other arm on his shoulder. He secures both hands at your waist.
"I know what you meant, Eddie," you giggle, giving him one last squeak just to please him—though he knows you didn't do it on purpose.
He nods, letting his own giddy laugh escape him. "Cool."
A chuckle, one of the ones that goes through your nose as you stifle a grin. You move slowly, like you're trying not to startle an animal, as you set your head on his chest. You step just a slight closer, and he graciously lets his hands wrap tighter around you. His head rests against the top of your heart.
It's close and warm and it makes you both smile. He smells nice, familiar, like the cologne you bought him, deodorant, and cigarettes. Under the music and the sound of his clothes brushing your ear, you can hear the faintest beat of his heart. It's quick, heavy. You can feel it against your cheek if you really focus.
You chuckle so lightly. "Eddie, calm down. Your heart is, like, super fast."
He clears his throat, speaking through his fond haze. "My bad."
He's so nervous. Steve's words play over and over again in his mind. "It's now or never, it's now or never, it's now or never, it's now–" and he is so afraid to pick now that all he does is sway and breathe the scent of your soft perfume, and under that, your—supposedly—scentless lotion.
He's so afraid that he's missed his chance. He knows you love him, but he's stuck on the possibility that you don't love him like you did. Maybe now, after having waited so long, you love him like a best friend, you love him like a brother. Maybe now that he's finally fallen for you, you don't have the capacity to stay low with him.
He's so afraid.
You both sway to the music, moving so slowly. There's a pause, it feels like. You feel like something is supposed to be said or done but...no one is doing it. The music changes again, but neither of you have stopped your slow dance. You rue the moment you have to tear away from him.
But there was a pause.
"Do you want to stop?" you ask gently, hoping against hope that he says no.
And he answers your prayer better than you could have asked for. It's a quick, "absolutely not," that leaves no time for any conceived hesitation.
You're so relieved. "Okay..."
His response is just as immediate. "I like you."
You look up at him, smiling gently. The sight of him warms your heart, all the softness in his big features, all the gleaming in his dark eyes. "I like you, too."
"No, like..." he sighs, struggling to say what he wants to say as his hands find firmer purchase at your waist out of nerves. "I really like you."
You're confused as to how to respond. Smiling strangely and furrowing a brow, you chuckle, "Thank you?"
Not quite. "I mean–"
"Eddie," you pause, donning a playful voice. "You're being weird again."
He wants to laugh but his ears are burning. "What I mean to say is..." now or never, "I fuckin' love you."
Your heart leaps to your throat, and you almost choke on it. It's beating so fast, you feel it in every pulse in your body. "Like..." you think quickly, though your thoughts are jumbled. "Like a friend? Like Steve and Robin."
"Not at all."
You shake your head, thinking his not platonic love for you is too good to be true. "I'm confused."
He's already said it, there's no use in being shy. He chuckles, and then takes a deep breath, and then blows it out. You stare up at him, eyes gleaming and lips parted so delicately. He wants to kiss you.
"I'm..." Breathe. "I'm in love with you, Princess." And then your heart stops. You're surprised you haven't fallen in the middle of the dance floor. He holds you up with all the fondness in his heart. "I was trying not to fall for you, I wasn't going to–" he says it with the same resolve as picking up candy at the gas station, like loving you is such an easy thing to do, "–but then we started hanging out, and you ended up being really, really cool. Then, I sort of just..." He sighs, trying to find the words. "I started really liking you. Then I picked you up for that concert, and you were so gorgeous—you always are. And I picked you up tonight and saw you in this...fuckin' awesome dress, and I couldn't breathe because you're just... You're so beautiful, and–"
You shut him up with a kiss. You sit here and listen to his compliments forever, but you couldn't wait any longer to feel his lips on yours. You've wanted this for so long, craved this kind of intimacy with him since you first saw him and thought he was super weird. And he was, you were right. You often are.
His lips are soft and warm, and you love the feeling of kissing him. It sways in your chest and warms the pit of your stomach, and it tingles in your fingers and ears and you just...lean into it like it's such a natural thing. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, tangling in his hair to pull him closer. His hands tighten around your waist and pull you flush against him. Happy hands hold the other, an innocent desperation to be near.
Fuck, you love him and his stupid anxiety. You love him in all his strangeness, his eccentricities, his eager hands and giddy eyes. Kissing him is one of the best decisions you've made, and it's one you hope you can continue to make forever and ever and ever.
When your lips pull apart and you're breathing each other's air, you keep your eyes closed as your lashes flutter. "I love you, too," you whisper, pulling him even closer. Your affection for him had only grown over the last few months, from a swelling warmth to a bursting excitement that grows still with every Eddie-ism.
"Sorry it took so long," he replies, your lips brushing with his words as his hand raises to brush your cheek.
You shrug lazily. "I'm glad it happened at all," you're still so close. You forget the music is still playing, you forget people are dancing to something fast and loud, you forget people are probably staring and talking and laughing and dancing and carrying on while you and Eddie are stuck in your own world, confessing and kissing and loving.
You chuckle, resting your head on his chest for a moment before lifting up again. "Chrissy'll be ecstatic."
He laughs, his hand splayed along your lower back as he rubs the spot affectionately. "Yeah, well... They certainly are."
You look over to where he motions with his head, giggling when you see Steve and Robin beaming and throwing thumbs up at the two of you, as though they were being subtle in their celebration. If you look over just a bit, you can see Chrissy smiling like it was her being kissed and loved on so sweetly. She pulls Jason with her as she joins the other two in your success—which is, in turn, their success.
You snort. "You have weird friends."
"Correction: we have weird friends."
What's mine is yours, what's yours is mine. You're okay with that.
You get giddy all over again looking at his face. "I'm so fuckin' happy right now." You lift up on your toes and kiss him again, drinking in his loving affection. When you pull away, you smile wide.
"Do you wanna go to the movies with me?" he asks, bringing an eager hand up to cup your chin.
You smile, containing your laugh. "You won't stand me up?"
He laughs, a big one that rumbles in his entire body and spreads to your own. "No, I won't stand you up," he says. "I'll open your door like a gentleman, I'll buy your snacks, I'll drive you back home and give you a goodnight kiss."
Your voice is soft, though the music shouldn't permit it to be. "Can we go back to your place?"
"Mine?" he wonders. Yours is probably better, he thinks.
"Yours is better." It's like you've read his mind, and you need to prove him wrong with his own phrasing.
He shrugs, "It's small."
You respond with your own shrug, holding him a little longer. Your thumb rubs against the back of his neck. "It feels like a home."
He hums. "Not very gentlemanly, taking you back to my place."
You snort. "Not like my parents'll notice." The way you say it makes his heart hurt. They wouldn't realize I was gone. "Your house is lived in," you say with a new gentleness. "I want to be with you." And then you get shy, shrugging one shoulder and slanting your chin down to meet it. "And maybe I just want to make out with my boyfriend."
Eddie blushes all over at the word, like he's a school boy flirting with his playground crush. "Right?" you ask quickly. "I can call you that?"
"Please do."
You purse your lips and giggle at his eagerness. You can't help it, you kiss him again. You love the way he kisses, full of smiles and warmth and a hint of desperation.
You pull back, your hand on his chest. "Does this mean you'll let me buy you gifts again?"
He rolls his eyes and laughs lightly, shaking his head before conceding with a grin. "Within reason." He couldn't say no to you, especially not now.
Your hands sit fondly at either side of his face. Your thumbs brush his skin. "I can deal with that."
And this time, he kisses you.
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wolfytoothy · 3 days
Text
let me suck your blood
vampire miles X reader
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You would have never thought vampires were real, it just didn't make since. But your friend were telling you other wise.
"I mean come on. People going missing, but for them to show up again with all there blood gone, like you can't tell me otherwise, it's a vampire, and we might be next" your friend said making you roll your eyes. "They call the mysterious man 'the prowler' not a vampire" you said not looking at your friend as you walked to your next class.
"Girl I'm not done" your friend J.B. said making groan as you slung your bag to the ground and sat in your assigned seat. " I have a theory that it's mister sinister handsome man " J.B. announced as she got closer to you, talking in a low voice. It took you a while to figureout what she was on bout but it clicked, "Really...miles morales. This miles, in this class, " you said skeptical, "and we need to come up with a better nickname for thst man cuz uts not working" you added,which made the light skin nod.
"But other than that, girl just because he almost never talks, and like has almost no friends, and is like mysterious and stuff, don't mean he's a vampire" you deadpan.
"No,no,no,hear me out, ever notice that he never comes to school on bright sunny days, ever notice how he can guess something like he's reading a mind, or how he dresses kinda weird, and like... you know" J.B. said shrugged. You blinked a few times and rolled your eyes."Girl some people are just weird" you chuckled. "Y/n, come on, I mean look. I notice he wears like rings and stuff, its weird" j.b. said making you roll your eyes.
Later on that day, you started considering what J.B. was saying. Why? Well cuz literally after that conversation you found that he was staring at you. And when you caught him, he just looked away. But the 10th time you caught him you swear you saw the vains around his eyes turn black for a mere second before disappearing. Your eyes widened a bit and ge flashed a toothy grin at you flashing his fangs for a sec, which you SWORE, his K-9's weren't that big or sharp.
And you had to make sure while you watched him talk, and his teeth seemed normal. You thought J.B.'s delusional theories were getting to you, and making you go crazy. You now on the track trying to think of the occasions you saw him and didn't. You were so lost in thought that you didn't hear the yelling of guys telling you to get out the way, as a basket ball was coming full force at you.
By the time you zoned back in, you thought it was all over, you literally thought there was gonna be a big knot on your forehead at the end of this, but you were mistaken when miles came out of nowhere and stopped the ball. He gave you the same look he gave everyone and looked you up and down. "I-uh... thank you..." I said, to stund to speak. He gave you a nob and left. You stared at him for a second before walking in the opposite direction. After a moment of some thinking, you relized, the last you looked at him that man was all the way on the other side of the field, so how did this man get to you to fast...and why.Miles never showed any type of kindness to people, and he especially doesn't show kindness to the girls that be simping over him and won't leave him alone.
Like you literally watched him watch someone steal something out of a girl's book bag and did nothing to alert her bout it. The man was beyond a menace to society. And not to mention it seemed he knew everything, its like he been over this so many times that it's engraved in his head, and he's especially a master in history class, he answers like he was literally there when it happened.
You were so focused in your thoughts once again when you were on your way home. So much so that the thugs of new York took the opportunity to snatch you right up, dragging you into an ally-way, mugging you, and just to be bastards, they stabbed you, cutting your hand and arms, making you bleed.
Now here you are, a bunch of thugs that just jumped you, you laying on the disgustingly outrageous ground.
And the last thing you saw was darkness.
When you woke up you noticed it was warm. Your head was pounding and your bones acked. You relized you were laying in a bed, with silk sheets covering you. It wasn't your bed, as the sheets smelled like sweetness, like cologne. Not the cheap cologne no. You could tell it was one of those scents that lasted forever, it had a rich smell and intoxicated your nose. But it smelled fimillier.
Your eyes flutter open as you sat up with a groan. This was most definitely not your room, but the room looked nice. Really nice. You took a look around then jumped slightly when the door opened. You were flabbergasted to see Miles walk through the door in a sexy out fit.You couldn't help but stare at him muscles and sharp jaw line. Miles noticed you staring at him in aw, and smirked, flashing his fangs, which to only find out he had double fangs. His who fit honestly just made you wanna bust a move.
"Good evening sleeping beauty" he Saud, catching you off gaurd when you heard his voice. He had a soft accent on him, which made you fold a little to hard.
He bent down to your leave and grabbed your hand. His hands were like ice, but his hands were unbelievably soft. But the cold hands and fangs, gave it away. "Its true, Your a vampire" you said looking at him in disbelief. He smiled a bit and nodded as he started wrapping your garden in bandages. "Yup, your lucky I found you in time, I could smell your blood from miles away" he commented. "Wait was I almost dead?!"
"Yes, and the only way I could save you is to make you like me" he says. His words took a minute to sink in as you blinked a few times.
"I beg your parton"
To be continued....
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angstywaifu · 1 day
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I Just Want To Talk To Them - Garrick Tavis x Reader
Prompt - “Who did this to you? I just want to talk to them” @fw-gt A/N: This is for the Garrick girls who love the cocky flirty side of him. Enjoy. Masterlist
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I winced as the healer prodded around my now very broken nose. Cleaning up what she could of the blood that had run down my face. Which was a lot. The mender had fixed most of the damage, but had to use their abilities on other cadets. Meaning I still had some bruising and tenderness where I had taken the full force of an elbow to the face during a challenge.
It had been a stupid mistake. One I knew Garrick and Xaden would lecture me about later. I had dropped my guard and my opponent had seen it. I had lost the challenge because of it. My first one this year. Wrecking my streak of going undefeated for two years. So close to a perfect three year streak. Luckily neither had been at challenges to see what had happened. But there was no way I could hide what had happened. One cause my nose had been broken and couldn’t be fully healed. Two it would be the talk of the quadrant.
“Use this a few times a day, should clear up the bruising and tenderness in no time. If you have any trouble breathing or any issues just come back.” She says with a smile as she holds the healing balm out to me.
I nod a thanks and take it from her hands before pushing off the bed. I was half expecting Garrick or Xaden to be waiting for me as I leave. But I don’t see them anywhere. Meaning they hadn’t heard yet. Or they were waiting for me somewhere. Due to the last class of the day still being on the corridors are quiet. Meaning the bathrooms would be as well. I decide to head there, knowing the healer would have only got some of the blood off my face and clothes. And my suspicions are correct as I stare into the mirror in the bathroom. Most of the blood around my nose and mouth is gone, but the blood that had worked its way down my neck hadn’t been touched. It almost looked like I had bathed in blood if the rest of my skin and clothes weren’t free of blood. That would be a sight to see. I quickly scrub the blood off my neck. I should have gone to my room and grabbed new clothes and showered. But with training with the other marked ones tonight, showering now probably wasn’t my smartest idea. As I leave the bathroom the corridors are filled with people and chatter. The last class of the day clearly done. I quickly rush over to my room, avoiding any stares that might feed any rumours that had started. I open my door, quickly shutting it behind me as I lean up against it, closing my eyes and sighing in relief.
”Who did this to you?” A gruff stern voice says from my desk.
I jump and nearly drop the healing balm in my hands, awkwardly juggling it till I catch it. I look over to meet Garrick’s gaze. Garrick who is leaning back in my desk chair, his feet resting on the desk as he twirls a dagger between his fingers. If it wasn’t for the words that had left his mouth I would find it attractive. And honestly still did. But with the fire and anger in his eyes, a chill runs down my spine. Garrick had clearly heard I had lost my challenge and ended up in the healers quadrant, but not to who. His eyes lower to my neck and uniform where some of the blood still lingers.
”It was just a challenge. It doesn’t matter.” I tell him as I go to walk behind him and place the healing balm on my bedside table.
But Garrick moves with a speed I’ve never seen before as his feet drop from the desk, turning the chair to grab my wrist, pulling me to a stop. Despite him sitting, I feel small under his gaze. His eyes commanding me to give up the information. This was why he was a section leader. He embodied leadership and authority without even trying.
”It. Matters.” He emphasises each word. “Now, who did this to you?”
”Why does it matter?” I say back as sternly as I can.
With the look in his eyes I know if I give up the name it wont end well for them. Even if it was a challenge where the goal was to fight each other and come out the other side the victor. Garrick didn’t care. He had always been protective of me. More so than any other marked cadet.
”I just want to talk to them.” He says with a smile, a smile that showed he did not want to just talk to them.
”We both know that is not what you are going to do.” I tell him before removing my arm from his grip and walking over to my bedside table.
I hear his slight chuckle at my words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I turn to find him staring at me as I narrow my eyes at him. Garrick does his best attempt at a sweet smile, but with the anger still burning in his eyes contradicts it.
”You do. I can see it in your eyes. You do not want to just talk to them Gar. It was a challenge, they did what they were meant to do.”
”They hurt what I care about most.” He says as he stands, the chair sounding like it sighs in relief. He walks over and stands in front of me, grasping my chin between his fingers, forcing my face to look up at his. “So I will ask again sweet heart before I go find them another way. Who did this to you?”
My mind goes blank. Did… did Garrick just call me sweet heart? Wait. What he cares about most? I must look at him confused, as he smiles and chuckles at me He leans down, placing his ear next to my ear.
”If you tell me who it is, I may just come back and reward you for it once I’m done talking.”
Before I can even think or register what I’ve done I blurt out the name of the cadet who I had been put up against for challenges. A sinister smirk gracing Garrick’s lips that has my heart fluttering.
”Good girl.” He whisper before kissing my cheek and walking out the door.
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blood-teeth · 19 hours
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E N T E R T H E L A B Y R I N T H
In the Labyrinth, they talk of gods.
They whisper between their fingers and sweeten their breath with the tales of titans of old who once stood so tall that a single breath would cause earth-tremors, their steps reshaping the ground trod beneath them. Their fingers were the tools that smoothed the mountains into points, shaped and carved the ridges and valleys in between. If you hike far enough, one woman claims, if you travel to a point where the oxygen is thin and your vision blacks, you can make out a partial print against the mountainside. You can run your own fingers along its length and still feel the titan’s warmth as if his palm were pressed right against yours.
The woman says, It is a thing of worship. It is a thing of devotion.
In the Labyrinth, they ask you to make you make your body anew before the King of the High Hills. They say that you are alive because you must suffer for the life and love of the Lord, that you must open your body and let him lick along your flesh so that he may taste the endlessness of his perpetual reign.
In the Labyrinth, there is no escape from his touch.
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“You have a heavy burden upon you,” the headmaster was saying, teeth and eyes all a glitter under the amber cast candles. “I am not unsympathetic to the arduous path ahead of you—but please understand that this suffering must be experienced for the longevity of the king, for the beautiful life ahead of him. Only he is the one who can shed mortality and raise to the gods, because he is the only one strong enough, courageous enough, to count the cost of living forever. You must succeed where others have failed. You, this class, this is our last chance to mend what has been made broken. You must. You must.”
The Mouths of Elysium is a dark-academia fantasy created with Twine where your choices matter to the story. You live inside the Labyrinth, a maze that hates to become known with walls and paths that change every hour. The center of the Labyrinth sits a university that has been there since the beginning of time; its only purpose is to recruit students who can solve the puzzle of life, who can create an elixir that would allow the King of the High Hills to live past the length of forever. Failure means a fate worse than death.
You are one of those students.
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Althea Callaghan - You know her in death. She has been the taste of rot against your tongue, the anger and hurt in your palms. You see the nice, beautiful lines of her teeth and become a creature of grief unfolding unto yourself. Debase yourself with the fervent want of her. Bend at your waist and beg for forgiveness.
You hate her. You want to watch her bleed. She feels the exact same about you, but what she doesn't know is that every waking moment of your life is dedicated to her.
The Princess/Prince - The forgotten child of the throne. The 405th child of His glorious reign. Divinity runs through their veins, the heir to so much power, but they will never see themselves rule the unforgiving landscape of the Labyrinth. Their fate is to die and be buried amongst the endless graves of their dead brothers and sisters. They must do this so the King may live forever.
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A fully customizable MC including gender, appearance, and sexuality
A landscape of horror. A landscape that hates you and everyone who might try to understand it. Go beyond the walls and be witness to a reality worse than death
Key choices that will influence your game and experience. Will you succeed or fail?
Learn what it means to be forgiven. Learn what it means to suffer. Become devotion. Become loyalty. Make your body anew before the King of the High Hills
DEMO : TBA (coming soon)
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theemporium · 13 hours
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Congrats on 10k! I absolutely love your writing! It always makes me feel warm and fuzzy 💕
I was wondering if I could request violet fluff 💜 prompt #31 with James Potter? Thanks so much, hope you’re having a great day 🥰
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
31. “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met."
.
James Potter honestly thought he was losing his mind.
He liked to pride himself over the fact he was good with people: talking to them, understanding them, observing them. He was a social butterfly and fairly empathetic, and he could talk to a brick wall and somehow still make it one of the most entertaining conversations people have ever witnessed. 
He tended to thrive in social situations, basking in the attention when the spotlight was on him. He was never made for the shadows or outskirts. He was made to be the person someone could always rely on in public, the one who could change the conversation when needed or keep things from becoming stagnant and awkward. 
But all of those skills felt redundant and useless when it came to you. 
Because, here’s the thing—James is, like, ninety-nine percent sure that you aren’t doing it on purpose which honestly makes the whole thing worse.
James Potter is not a subtle man. Far from it, if anyone is concerned. He is open with his feelings and wants and desires and dreams. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he wears it proudly. And he has been flirting with you since day one. 
And you flirt back. He swears you flirt back. Hell, despite the way they mocked how lovesick and besotted he was, even his friends were sure you flirted back because that was the only way to describe your banter. It was flirty and teasing and, on some occasions, mimicked that of an old married couple.
But just when James thinks he is finally getting somewhere with you, you pull a total one-eighty on him and he is left thinking that you are unaware of it all. That maybe—just fucking maybe—you are oblivious to James’ obvious and unsubtle attempts. 
He is also pretty sure you don’t realise that half of your hangouts with the boy were his attempts at asking you on a date. 
And he was losing his goddamn mind. 
It’s almost ironic that all it would take was a potions assignment for things to come together.
“It’s a simple potion, there really shouldn’t be any mistakes or problems,” Slughorn announced as he wandered through the room, his robes swishing behind him with each step. “If you have any problems, just ask but this potion should be easy for your age.”
And the thing was, yeah, it was pretty easy. James looked at the instructions and it was something he could have done with his eyes closed if he really wanted to. 
But Remus wasn’t in class today, instead deciding to take the day off with the full moon having just passed. And your usual partner wasn’t in either. And now you were partners together and you were really pretty and, honestly, James couldn’t be blamed for being a little distracted. 
He also didn’t know that fucking up the potion would turn it into an accidental truth serum. 
In fact, he didn’t even realise until the two of you were too busy laughing at Slughorn demanding the two of you go to the bathrooms to clean up, halfway down the corridor when he turned to look at you and just blurted out the words before he could stop himself.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty.”
You paused, shoes squeaking against the floor as you looked at him with wide eyes. “What did you say?” 
And before he could even try to come up with an excuse, he was talking again. “I said you’re pretty. Because you are. I always think you’re pretty but you’re prettier when you laugh.”
You blinked. “You really think that?”
“Of course I do,” James retorted, almost snorting a little at the incredulous tone of your voice. “I think you’re one of the most gorgeous girls in this world. It’s why I flirt with you, like, every day.”
Your cheeks warmed. “Oh.”
“I’ve been in love with you since the day we met,” James continued because he couldn’t really bring himself to stop. “And I really want to kiss you all the time. I just don’t know if you like me back or not.”
“I do,” you blurted out, but there was a smile on your face—even if it was a little shy. “I do like you back. And I want to kiss you too.” 
“Sweet,” James grinned and then, because he was a man of action and promises, he closed the distance between the two of you. 
His warm palms cupped your cheek, his body pressed against every inch of your own before he kissed you. It was dizzying and slightly surreal. It made your head spin when his tongue swiped over your lips before exploring your mouth. It made your knees buckle when a low groan sounded from the back of his throat.
But it was everything the two of you wanted and more. 
And yeah, maybe James Potter was going to lose his mind if this was how good it felt to kiss you.
.
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weneeya · 23 hours
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HIIII!! I love your writings!!! I really like how you manage the characters and how you make the scenes<3
May I request some Headcanon/scenario of Kageyama being in love for a female s/o?
Bad at feelings
fluff with Kageyama
hiiii omg thank u sm I'm so happy to read this <3 kageyama is my baby, like all the first years ; ofc I can write smth with him!! requests are still open :)
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Kageyama Tobio wasn’t really well known for his ability to speak about how he felt. Actually, it was the exact opposite. The boy was so bad with his feelings and his thoughts, because he didn’t know how to express himself correctly. Watch him play with his team and you would quickly understand that talking was his weak point. 
He never really cared, until you arrived. You were friends with Yachi, one of her classmates who arrived in the middle of the school year. This is why you started to spend a lot of time with the volleyball team, soon becoming friends with all of them. You were a real ray of light, always smiley and happy, like nothing could hurt you. 
You were quickly adopted by the team, as Nishinoya and Tanaka made everyone understood around the school. They were giving dark looks to any boy who could want to speak with you, scaring them by clearly threatening them. It was a bit funny, you had to admit. 
Tobio knew he liked you, but he didn’t know how he really felt at the same time. He never experienced love before, because volleyball was the only thing he cared about since he was born. He knew it wasn’t the same affection as the rest of the team, but love? He wasn’t sure about it. This is why he decided to come to talk with Daichi and Suga. 
They were going out after their class, and Tobio was waiting for them outside, standing up all straight in front of the door. The two seniors almost jumped because of the surprise, not expecting Kageyama to be here. 
“Is everything okay? Do you have another problem with Hinata? I told you to-” Daichi couldn’t finish his sentence because Tobio quickly bent in front of him, his voice coming out louder than expected. 
“Sawamura-san, Sugawara-san! I need your help!” The captain and the setter looked at each other before looking back at their cadet. Suga told him to straight back up, an embarrassed smile on his lips. 
“Come here, let’s talk somewhere else,” he said, and the three boys got outside the building in a minute. Kageyama quickly started to speak about his said problem. He sighed slightly before looking at his two senpai. 
It took a long time, way too long in fact. Kageyama was searching for his words, saying the same things again and again, apparently lost with himself. His mind was racing, and his heart as well. Daichi could swear that he almost saw a blush over Kageyama’s cheeks for a second. Arms crossed, the captain looked at his setter who couldn’t help but to laugh at the poor boy’s behavior. 
“Slow down Kageyama, breathe,” started Daichi and the younger boy stopped talking, looking at Suga with a slight frown on his face. Why was he laughing at him? Tobio was clearly not understanding. 
“Our boy is in love,” finally added the third year, and Kageyama’s mind went wild. He looked at them with wide eyes, processing what he just heard. Daichi tried to tell Suga to go easy on him, but the setter kept going. 
“Feelings, romantic ones ; this is what you’re experiencing right now.” Silence. Tobio couldn’t believe it. So it was really love in the end? He never thought he would go through that one day, or at least clearly not right now. 
After thanking his seniors, Tobio left them to go walk alone. He needed milk, nothing would help him more than milk right now. He was in front of the vending machine when he heard a voice next to him. It was you, obviously. He could recognize your voice in the middle of a shouting crowd. 
This is how you ended up walking home together, as there was no training after school today. You had this soft smile on your lips as you were talking about a few different things. Kageyama wasn’t listening, he was too busy staring at you to focus on your words. You finally looked at him, taking him out of his thoughts. 
“Are you listening? You know, you can tell me if I’m annoying…” you said, and a small pout appeared on your lips. Tobio felt his cheeks burning suddenly, and he quickly looked away, his grip tightening a little around his milk. How could you be so adorable? It was too difficult to handle. 
You wanted to add something, but Kageyama suddenly stopped and you did the same, turning to him. “What?” You asked, and the boy took a deep breath. He frowned slightly while looking at you, and for a moment you thought he was going to be angry at you. 
“You… You’re pretty…” He finally said after a few moments of silence, and you couldn’t restrain your surprise. You slowly processed his words, and you felt your ears becoming warmer. You tried to find your words before being able to articulate a small “Thank you” to him. 
Love really was a strange feeling, but Kageyama Tobio was ready to learn about it and how to handle his feelings if it meant staying by your side.
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maybe I'll do a second part if you guys like it, I didn't want to make it too long hihi
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thebeesareback · 3 days
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I just finished the audio book for Donna Tartt's novel The Secret History, so naturally I had to have a lil scroll to see what everyone thought on Tumblr. To add to the discourse: (spoilers, obviously)
Also trigger warning: incest, abuse, murder, alcoholism
Why is Tumblr so in love with Henry Winter?! He murders the farmer, Bunny, and possibly tries to kill Charles. He's manipulative and may well try to make Richard take the fall (har har) for Bunny's death. In the garden scene, he admits to being a psychopath/sociopath. Oh, and he's unbelievably pretentious
Also, why are there so many cute pictures of the twins hanging out? Their relationship was strained, incestuous, co-dependent, abusive. The whole uwu thing baffles me
Richard has a very obvious foot fetish and nobody is talking about it
The novel is quite funny, and I wish more people picked up on that. Most of the humour comes from Francis - the pinz nez stays ON during sex; no, Bunny's parents weren't very upset when one of their grandchildren ruined Francis' scarf, they were preoccupied by their missing son; and there's a throwaway line where the art students eat sushi with paintbrushes instead of chopsticks. I also liked when the twins panicked after Bunny's murder and decided to start repotting tulips
The farmer is referred to by name twice. Once in a newspaper, once by Bunny. Strange to think that he's the person in the squad who might actually have a conscience. Incidentally, Milo, the golden retriever who finds Bunny's body, has his name mentioned more frequently.
Richard is a smelly, badly dressed misanthrope. As is Henry, and Charles towards the end. Francis, Camilla and Hampden itself provide the (admittedly gorgeous) dark academia aesthetic, but if you want to end that dream, remember how terrible everything would have smelled. I guess the difference between appearance and reality is a pretty big theme
Julian is very creepy, obviously, but I was surprised that he wasn't more involved in the plot. He seems like exactly the sort of person to start a cult. I'd also like to know if he and Henry were in a sexual relationship, because we see them kiss once and then it's never mentioned again
Foreshadowing is done EXCELLENTLY through the book. There were a few characters who were described as ghostly at the start, and I THINK they're the ones who survive. Also, Tartt loves her pathetic fallacy (not phallusy).
Time is very strange. If you bothered to plot out all of the events, I don't think it quite makes sense. Term starts in September, say Richard joins Julian's classes in early October? That means all the picnics, the Sunday walks with Bunny, the trips to Francis' house, all happen over about five weeks, leading to the 12th November when Charles, Henry and Francis kill the farmer. Unreliable narrator, I guess
A lot of things about Richard's character make more sense when you realise the abuse he grew up experiencing and witnessing. Poor Ms Papen. Odd that Richard's parents don't visit him when he's in hospital
Funny that everyone is surprised when the twins' incest comes out. Like, they had an orgy at the start of the baccanal. Call me a prude, but I wouldn't attend an orgy with a family member
I would go for girls' night with Judy Poovey
Also, the book was published in 1992. Does anyone know when Prince Charles and Camila Parker Bowles went public with their relationship? Seems like an unbelievable coincidence otherwise
If anyone has an actual criteria for identifying alcohol abuse/alcoholism, please lmk if any of the main six characters AREN'T alcoholics. I'm pretty sure I got liver cirrhosis and lung cancer just from reading this book
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ikykwklk-ash · 1 day
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"How di you meet?"
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Pairing: Kim Seungmin x fem!reader
W/c: 1180
Synopsis: A normal history and philosophy lesson with Professor Kim Seungmin and the topic "do opposites attract?" and the story of how y/n and seungmin met.
A/N: Hope you like it!! ♡
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<<Professor I still do not understand why opposites attract! It does not make sense! We call them opposites, but they could also be equal in theory! >>
It was the twentieth time the poor professor had heard that question. Of course, if we talk about chemistry and physics, it is all different...but in love things are more complicated.
That was how that working day had started, a simple statement from the professor and millions of objections from his pupils.
<<Professor, tell us know what you think! We pupils are always talking, and you keep quiet as if you were in detention.>> One of the boys in the class had spoken only to say that sentence.
Seungmin looked up at him, adjusting his glasses that had almost fallen to the tip of his nose.
<<In my opinion: opposites attract.>> he replied simply, nothing more, nothing less.
<<Come on, teacher, which is not fair! Give us more motivation.>> This time one of the girls said.
What was supposed to be one hour of History and one hour of Philosophy had turned into two hours of debate without even meaning to.
<<I think: it is true that opposites attract, we can say that from many points of view, can't we? You did it in science. The north pole of one magnet attracts the south pole of another and vice versa. We could summarise this in the practicalities of life as 'despite being different from you it attracts you' right? Do you agree? >>
The class had his undivided attention.
<<But if we apply this idea to life, it is not so because there are people who like people of the same sex and people who like people of a different sex.>>
<<Rightful observation, but surely the concept of 'opposite' should not be attributed to the physical but to character. However similar two people may be physically; they will never be equal in character. Consequently, opposites, understood in character, attract.>>
Of course, it was easy for him to attract attention with those words; teaching philosophy had served more than just teaching the subject.
<<Are any of you here engaged?> a third of the class raised their hands.
<<And you professor? He never told us anything about you.>> Cleverly someone took advantage of the moment to ask that question, which elicited a laugh from the professor.
<<I am engaged, but that is all you need to know.>> The pupils, obviously curious as they were, started asking a thousand questions.
<<Oh, come on professor, at least tell us if you are older than that!>> and the professor denied it.
<<Could you tell us whether your hair is curly or straight? And the colour? Does she wear glasses?>> They were flooding him with questions it was difficult to please everyone, Seungmin knew that in their own way they were building up a sketch of his girlfriend to see if she was someone from the school or from outside.
<<Hm let us see, dark curly hair, wears glasses yes, dark eyes, bigger than me by a little but I am taller. She is from Busan while I am from Seoul...>> and so on.
Paradoxically, he had just revealed that they were opposites.
<<And what does her girlfriend do? >> Someone asked in the middle of the crowd of guys who were no longer even sitting in their seats.
<<She is currently working in a bar to pay for his last year of university.>> They looked at him curiously.
<<But if she was older, she should have finished university like you! Prof do not make fun of us.>> He laughed with gusto at that sentence.
<<I graduated earlier than expected and the principal at once provided me with a job here at the school. What, you are not happy to have a young prof? >> he pretended to be offended.
<<Of course we did, but once in a while he could dress in a way that he didn't look like the usual forty-year-old father with three children prof.>> he laughed, maybe he did dress that way, but he liked it, and so did his partner, so he would continue to dress that way.
<<Prof tell us how you and your boyfriend met, come on! >>
He began to tell the long story.
Our two protagonists have known each other for a lot of years, by pure chance they met in the third year of high school following an educational trip to Seoul for the one in Busan and a simple field trip for the one in Seoul.
The teachers from both schools knew each other they had organised that 'field trip' together and so they spent the entire day together.
From small and quick glances, they went on to sit next to each other during lunch, talking and talking to no end, until they exchanged numbers. The two best friends of the little boy with the discoloured fringes soon found out about this and began to make plans to try and get them together. Somehow, they even succeeded.
<<Wait, so you have known each other since you were 16, and if he is 26 now...oh my gosh you have been together for 10 years? Congratulations teacher, I did not expect that to be honest! >> The last few minutes passed quickly amidst the chatter of the students until the bell rang and everyone started getting ready to change classes.
<<For tomorrow I want to bring in a little essay on what you think of the phrase "opposites attract" and I want some good reasons.>>
<<Of course, though, a boy from Seoul and one from Busan who are now in Japan... that is a beautiful story. I wish I had one like theirs.>> There were only two girls left in the class and without knowing it, they made Seungmin smile as he continued to correct the previous week's tests.
With his school day over, he could finally go to his favourite café to relax and spend time with the companion he had fallen in love with ten years earlier.
<<In what sense do your pupils know me?>> Y/n asked as he put the usual things, he always took in front of him: peppermint tea and handmade almond biscuits. <<In the sense that they practically interrogated me about you, honey. They are kids are more curious than Scooby-Doo was.>> he replied, drinking the tea, and making the other laugh.
<<You have biscuit crumbs on your chin love. Also... I understand you are the students' favourite. Where did the subject of us being engaged come from? >>
After wiping himself with a handkerchief he replied: <<From a simple sentence. "Opposites attract". I had intended to lecture but they didn't, so some sort of debate ensued and from there the topic "prof but are you engaged?">>
<<And I guess you did not hesitate to tell the whole story to lend credence to your thesis that opposites do indeed attract. Right? >> the boy sitting at the table smiled, also making the waiter smile, who kissed him lightly shortly afterwards.
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melodaffine · 3 days
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i want to @ all these mcyt ccs, like someone being rude to you is not a valid reason to say their horrible people so they need to be "deplatformed". in a real life example, imagine i go to my professor and i tell them "you need to remove joe from my group and fail him from the class because he was rude to me :(". the professor would just be like "i'm sorry but in life you have to learn to work with people you clash with".
what i just don't understand is like, you will ALWAYS meet people you clash with, that's just how life works because we're all individual people. i can't count how many times i've had to work on a project or be around someone i didn't like or someone who was rude to me. but the difference is, every other person has to continue working with them because it's a commitment. these people are content creators - they don't ever have to work on a project with them if they don't want to. so what's the big deal??? you won't suffer because you don't wanna work with them, your job is to build your own brand.
all this "behind the scenes" talk has all just boiled down to miscommunication or personal grievances. like geez, genuinely broaden your perspective and get a life. i promise everyone has had drama with someone else, but most people move past the middle school drama phase except for these content creators who have main character syndrome apparently. as audiences who will never know them in real life, what makes them think i would care about their personal drama? like even if one of my FRIENDS came up to me and was like "your friend joe hit up my gf when we broke up, you need to drop them" i would be like uhh that sucks but what does that have to do with me??? and they expect us to care when we don't even know them???
it's like the equivalent of making a instagram post broadcasting your beef with someone. like that sounds ridiculous because IT IS.
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yuurei20 · 7 hours
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Short translation from Twisted Wonderland: in class
“'There's no way that Ramshackle can compete on the same level as our dorm—that’s a crowning moment. Us, being mocked like that? We wouldn’t stand for it.’
From a slight distance comes a low voice.
‘You hear that? Savanaclaw is talking all big, like they’re not the perennial losers.’
And with that, the atmosphere of the entire classroom has changed.
The student wearing the Savanaclaw armband rises to his feet, his face completely blank.
‘Hey. What did you just say?’
‘Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean for you to hear the truth,’ the student laughs.
He wears a black and yellow-green armband. He is surrounded by others all wearing the same colors. They give the Savanaclaw students a glance and then dramatically shake their heads.
‘I’m just worried, is all. We all know that Diasomnia is going to win again this year. You acting all high and mighty—it’s embarrassing to watch.’
‘The upperclassmen were worrying, too, you know. Outplayed in the first round for two years in a row, stripped of your old glory…wouldn’t be surprised if people start transferring out of there soon.’
‘Say that again!’ The Savanaclaw students lean forward aggressively.
‘Try us right here, right now—wanna see who’s really stronger?’
‘What part of any of that was Diasomnia’s victory at all? The only reason you won anything was because of that over-powered monster. The rest of you don’t even do anything.’
The members of Diasomnia have remained at ease in front of the seething Savanaclaw students. But now their expressions change.
‘Monster? You…as if you’d ever have the nerve to say that to our housewarden’s face.’
The students from the two dorms glare at one another. Their respective anger only continues to build, with no sign of the argument subsiding.
What began as a throwaway comment from Grim is threatening to escalate into a brawl. The other students merely watch, amused. The looks on Ace’s and Deuce’s faces seem to say, ‘here we go again,’ and neither appear inclined to intervene.
Yuuya goes rigid with anxiety, and Crewel’s loud voice suddenly cuts through the tension: ‘Be quiet! Stop yapping over trivial concerns. Even puppies have more composure than this!’
Crewel’s rage silences the argument as thoroughly as though it never happened. They are no doubt in for a harsh lecture—and then the bell. Soon, it will be first period.
‘Hmph. That is all for homeroom.’”
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My contribution to the James Potter in a crop top fest
@ye-olde-trojan-horse it's here hehe (praying to every god out there he likes this because his writing is *chef's kiss*)
@croptopjames happy to serve this community 🫡
My Idiot
Word count: 1023
TW for mentions of transphobia and dysphoria, it's mostly people gossiping and Reg being insecure about his gender (are his insecurities based on mine? possibly 👀)
“Dora?”
Pandora opened her eyes.
It was late at night and everyone else in the dorm was asleep, if Pandora went by the snores of Barty who was practically laying on Evan, and the smile Dorcas always made when she was dreaming.
It was one of their monthly sleepovers, since, with Dorcas not getting along well with the girls in her dorm and Pandora being in Ravenclaw, they didn't get the chance to meet up apart from meal times and classes. They’d organized their first sleepover together in second year, when Dorcas had come into the boys’ dorm saying she’d had a nightmare, and Barty sent Regulus to get Pandora, since he was the only one able to solve the puzzle needed to open the common room. They spent the whole night in Barty’s bed, holding onto each other for comfort.
It was now 4 years later, and Pandora turned their head around to see Regulus, who was the one who’d called her. He looked worried.
“Yes?” Pandora asked. Regulus usually didn't talk this late at night, especially with other people around.
“You know how i’ve been out to the school for a few weeks?”
Pandora frowned. She didn't like the way this was going. “Yes?”
“I’m a bit afraid of wearing the male uniform. In front of everyone, I mean.”
“Oh.” Pandora couldn't help but relax. They smiled softly.
After Regulus ran away two months ago, he was able to come out as trans to the whole school, and simultaneously make his relationship with James public. There were some negative reactions, but those were toned down pretty fast by James and his friends. Regulus still struggled to talk to Sirius, but he was slowly getting closer to the Gryffindors, especially Lily and Remus.
“Do you want to talk about it?”Regulus silently nodded, before taking a deep breath, and diving in.
“I feel like an imposter every time I make sure to look masculine. If I was an actual boy, I wouldn't need to make such an effort to look like one. I know it’s just my brain talking, but it’s still hard to ignore.” He lowered his head.
Pandora placed their hand on his shoulder. “Do I look feminine sometimes?”
Regulus looked back up at her. “Yes.”
“And do I have to do stuff like wear a binder or wear masculine makeup so people see me more as androgynous?" “Yes."
“Does that make my identity any less valid?”Regulus sat up, frowning. “What? No!”
Pandora laughed, bringing him down to a laying position to avoid waking up the others. “And that applies to you as well. You can wear the uniform now, or tomorrow, or never. It’s your choice. But do it because you want to, not because others want you to.”
Regulus relaxed, and put his hand on Pandora’s. “I love you.”
They couldn't help but smile. “I love you too, Reg.”
***
the next morning
As Regulus walked into the Great Hall, wearing the male uniform, he couldn't help but notice a few whispers from people looking over at him. He took a deep breath, remembering Pandora’s words, and walked to his assigned spot at the Slytherin table, between Dorcas and Barty.
The two of them welcomed him, and, with the help of Evan, properly hid him off from the other tables and cussed off the ones who dared to look. Regulus looked down at his plate, feeling self conscious, and stared at the table as he felt the looks of others digging into his skin.
He started to regret his choice, even considering going back to his dorm right now. He repeated Pandora’s words of comfort as a mantra in his head, hoping to empty his mind.
He was taken out of his spiraling by the sound of a door opening suddenly, and talking all around the room. He whipped his head up, and what he saw was one of the most unexpected but delightful sights he’d ever encountered.
James was walking to his table as usual, except for the small detail that caused every student to whisper along themselves and a few wolf whistles to fly through the room.
James was wearing a crop top. A fucking crop top.
Along with his usual uniform trousers, he was wearing an old Quidditch jersey that was cut up to his belly button. And Salazar on a cross did he look good in it.
Regulus looked around for any form of clue as to why his boyfriend was parading in a crop top, and all he found was Pandora's eyes, looking at him from the Ravenclaw table with a knowing grin on her face.
They told him.
Regulus could feel his cheeks heating up as he saw James casually sit down at the Gryffindor table as if everything was normal, and couldn't help but stare at his boyfriend more than usual, that is.
“What’s up Regulus? Not feeling so well? Your cheeks are a bit too red, you must be sick.”
Regulus turned his head to see Barty with a face-splitting grin on his face, then turned the other way to see Dorcas and Evan looked the same
they were all in this. Dumbasses.
Regulus felt a smile climb up on his face.
They did this for me. So I wouldn't feel bad.
“But hey, At least I can see the appeal now. I get it, Potter’s smoking hot. Would you mind sharing, actually?”
And fuck no. That was not possible, in any sort of way.
Regulus only now realised all of the whistles going around the room, and he got up without a thought.
He shrugged off Barty’s calls and practically ran up to the Gryffindor table.
As he arrived close to James’ spot, his boyfriend looked up with a smile. “Hi, Reg! You-” James was interrupted as Regulus grabbed him by the collar, forced him up on his feet and kissed him in front of the whole school, one hand on his collar and the other at the back of his head.
As they parted away, James now a blushing, stuttering mess, Regulus smiled.
“You’re an idiot.”
My idiot.
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narcissarina · 21 hours
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𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰
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જ⁀➴Previous chapter
Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader
Word count: 2,041
Tw: reader overthinking, stalking, an attempt kidnap.
Summary: After Leon left to his mission, you find yourself alone in an empty room and home. You invite a company over and decided to go out late at night to buy foods you crave it eat. Never thinking that dangers lurk ahead and waiting for it's prey.
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𝚅𝙸𝙸.
It has been a couple of days after Leon left, you lay like a lifeless corpse in your bed as you stare blankly at your door. Are you waiting for a miracle to happen? Waiting for him to come opening your door and greet you with a smile, “bought you something, princess.”
This room felt empty, your body feels cold—seeking his warmth. Even if been only a couple of days, you hate that you miss his presence—hate how he would delivery you your comfort drink, how he would stare back at you when you keep staring at his eyes. How you miss the warm and softness of his lips when he kiss your forehead good morning and goodnight.
You hate how you feel like shit without him, never thought if you and Leon were official, it’ll be hard when he’s out because of his mission. You’d constantly get worried, overthink and cry at the fake scenarios in your head. You were alone, your parents are out and Leon is at his mission. Well, at least the servants are here to keep you company, right?
You hate waking up to see an empty bed, you hate going to school when he’s not here to talk about his work and day, you hate seeing your driver pick you up without Leon—it felt wrong and empty, and mostly. You hate coming home to an empty house, and step on to your empty room.
You hope that he’ll come back after a week or two. Well, you can’t do much—you can’t ma him come home, he can’t use his phone while in a mission.
You check the time, it’s 10:30 in the morning. You gave all your strength to sit down and walk in this cold empty room with no warmth lingering, you take a shower that took about 30 minutes or so, you got dress and head downstairs and ate a few bites of your breakfast before heading out.
The ride was silent, you didn’t dare utter a word and only look out of the window. Your driver dropped you off as you enter school grounds with such a depressing atmosphere, you’re looming as you walk like a lifeless corpse.
Sarina’s eyes followed your figured and walk beside you, “you good?” you only hum, “you know first period just finished, right? And the profs are absent for the second and third.” You hum again, acknowledging her words as you don’t have the energy to say one single word.
“you look as dead as a corpse, what happened?” She asked, you didn’t answer and just lie down to the grassy field of the school, where most students study and have a little picnic. “Where’s Leon, by the way?” Sarina asked, looking her behind to spot your bodyguard but found none.
“Out.” You mumble, looking up to the clear blue sky, it reminds you of his eyes. You brought your fingers where you could see them and slightly reach for the sky, wanting to hold on to his gaze for a while. “Melodramatic much?” Sarina said, slapping you hand down, “I just want to say that you’re not in a TV show or that you’re a book character.”
Exhaling, you roll to your side to turn your back at your friend. “He’s out on a mission?” you nodded at her question slightly, “dear,” she coos and scoot over beside you. Her leg touching your back, “look, he’s an agent. He’s experience and the possibility of him not coming back is slim.”
Yeah, like that would make you feel better. You felt sick, what if he didn’t come back?
“There’s no class, right?” you asked in a hush weak tone, Sarina hums as she look at the sky with you. “He’ll come home,” she gave it a long good pause, “to you.” Then look down at your figure.
“You need some sleep, girl.” She then stood up and offer a helping hand which you gladly took as she helps you up. “Give me a call when you get home, or do you want me to come home with you?” she suggested, you smiled at the thought. It was getting quite lonely at home since you’re parents and Leon was out.
“I would love some company…”
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Leon arrived and starts to get to work, he puts his finger to his earpiece to talk, “what kind of item you guys want to retrieve?” he asked, a voice was heard from it, “it’s shaped like a cube, they say it’s glowing and can’t be touch with only your bare hands.” Leon nodded and investigate his area, rummaging to the wastes—how this place had turned to ruins.
“Be careful with it and stay safe from it,” Leon could hint of her tone being worried, “no worries.” He answers, “that thing is a very valuable item, but could also be a dangerous weapon.”
He walks around with caution, taking in his surroundings and pointing his gun whenever he hears sounds of metal clicking or bushes. “Got it.” Said Leon before dropping the call, he turns his head to the side and found a mansion.
“Great, a haunted mansion.” A hint of mock in his tone, “just my luck.” He said before entering and disappearing to the darkness, as the door closes—Leon was embraced by the cold air inside the mansion. Quit and the dim light only surrounds him.
Clung—
He hears a metal click, he turns and shot the blanket that’s been covered and a cockroach emerges from it, “huh.” Leon scoff and proceed to find leads where to find that stupid cube so he can go home to you, feel your hands over his hair and hear the sound of your breathing and heartbeat. Because there, he found peace and solace—where he can call his own home.
He finds himself smiling at the thought, your hand around his bicep or when you intertwined your hands to his—which he very much prefer to see every single day rather than the crimson in his hands that very reminds him of taking a life.
Leon is very much aware that in a house like this, it’s full of puzzles and mysteries that you got to solve if he wanted to retrieve the item back to the D.S.O, why does he have a gut feeling that he’s stealing something he shouldn’t?
He won’t question it, even if he did—they won’t give him an answer. As usual, always treating their best men the silent treatment when they’re onto something.
Leon brushed it off and went to the library, there’s always something hidden away in the library, right? Since in a place where knowledge is, might be where the clue is.
You went home with your friend here to keep you company, so you wouldn’t be lonely and that the house wouldn’t feel empty for a while.
Sarina has been talking about her book boyfriends and the plot of the book she just finish reading in your room, “no, girl! ‘cause like…” her words were like a mutter, you just nodded and can’t understand a thing but pretended that you’re actually listening.
It's late, you check the time and it’s already 1:11 AM. You feel kind of silly and hungry, so you want to buy some Korean ramen from the convenience store, “really? This late?” Sarina raised a brow, “you could just eat in the morning,” she groans and held your hand in your bed, “it’s dark and something might happen to you.” Sarina frowns in worry, you smiled and took your hand away, “I’ll be fine, Leon taught me new things. Don’t worry.”
You try assuring Sarina but she’s not having it, she doesn’t want to go outside since it’s dark, but she also doesn’t want to leave you be and get in danger. She has no choice but to trust your words, “get a pepper spray or a knife.” Sarina mumbled, you nodded and take your small sling bag with you, which insides contains your needs to defend yourself.
“Be quick, okay!” Sarina yelled, hugging a pillow as she flop down, worrying thoughts swirling in her head as she look out your window and saw your figure from the streetlights and began to walk to the nearest convenience store—which was only a few blocks away from your home.
Before leaving the house, your fathers trusted butler asked you where you’re going this late and that he offered you company so you would be safe. You assured him as how you assured Sarina, he could only nod and sigh in worry mixed with defeat.
“Be careful.” He says and escorting you to the door and watch your silhouette enter the store from the distance.
Store is empty, no people. Just you and the cashier, you greet her with a smile, “hello,” you spoke as she smiled and nod to you, “welcome!”
You look around and think of what kind of ramen flavor you want. You said you only craved ramen, why did you also get a corndog, rice-cake, and a chocolate drink? The cashier happily checks out your item for you before starting a conversation, “time sure flies, no?” she starts, you nodded and hand her your card. Paying by card, she took it and type in her touchscreen.
“Sure did,” you answered, pulling your sling bag closely. You felt a sudden chill down your spine and the hair at the back of your neck stood up, “be careful, I saw someone lurking outside… Waiting.” The cashier whispered, giving me a smile to not alert someone outside the store. Fuck, you don’t have your phone with you.
You whispered back, “Thank you.” And took your bags, as she waves farewell as you left the store.
The streetlight across the road was always flickering, that what makes this ten times scarier—you hate this dark, but you hate it more when someone warned you someone’s presence in the dark.
Your walk picking up speed, but trying to not alert that you’re running away. You’re speed-walking and trying your best, your hand gripping on to the plastic bag and the other on the strap of your sling bag.
Feeling someone’s presence behind you, you didn’t turn—not risking that you knew they were there and that they should know that you feel their shadow following you. Panic sets in, your hand gripping tightly to both your bag and plastic, you hear a sinister yet horrifying and distorted laugh.
You made a run for it.
You bump into someone, you thought you were safe—you were ranting and panicking to the person who you bump into, “p-please help me! Someone’s following me, and—”
“Shh, calm down, girl.” The man said, looking up to see who’s behind you. “Pretty thing like you shouldn’t wander this late at night.” The man said, but his eyes were fixated to someone that’s been following you.
You nodded, agreeing to his remark. “I know, but I was hungry and bought myself something to eat and for my friend too!” you starts to stammer and mix your words up. “I should’ve listen to my best friend.” You hard the man chuckle and nodded, his voice dropping, “yeah… you should have.”
You feel someone towering behind you, that same distorted laugh now tickles right to your ear. You went pale, colors draining from your face as you turn around to see the person who’s been in the shadows. You wanted to scream, run and call for help or use your self-defense keychain but you were to scared and frozen in place.
“Now, what made you think that I will help you?”
The doorbell rang, the butler was waiting by the door—standing there for an hour. He felt relieved when you finally came back, “finally, miss. You have made me worried and kept me waiting. I—” he cuts himself off when he open his eyes and you weren’t in front of him, suppose to be smiling because you bought food and made it safe.
He steps out, taking his flashlight out and turning from left to right. He look down and saw the plastic bags that contain the foods you just purchased, a note was attached to it.
“We would like to borrow her for a while ;)”
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Next Chapter>>>
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bloodyhoon · 7 hours
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[5:42am]
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pairing: boyfriend! lee heeseung x female! reader.
genre: angst. words of comfort.
warnings: reader has body dysmorphia, readers is insecure and hates herself. English is not my first language so there may be grammal or spelling errors.
words: 900.
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The comparison was killing you slowly and painfully. Your own gaze in front of the mirror was scanning and judging your entire figure in that casual dress that your boyfriend liked so much. You had half an hour to finish getting ready and leave your room to meet Heeseung in the living room of your apartment, who was lying on the couch using his cell phone to kill time while you finished getting ready to go out for a walk together, like you used to do on the few free afternoons you had together. A week ago, you had started your academic routine respectively and you no longer had as much free time to see each other, adding that you lived a little far away since your universities were not close to each other. One afternoon, you and Heeseung decided to meet after his classes and since you finished early, you decided to drive to his university and surprise him by showing up there, your heart fell to your feet when you saw him leaving the building talking with his classmates, two beautiful girls with slender bodies, bright faces with barely any makeup. They were really beautiful. You couldn't help but look at yourself and think that you would never be like them, your body didn't look like theirs, your face looked tired with big dark circles and your personality wasn't the best either because you were extremely insecure. You didn't understand how Heeseung had noticed you and he kept telling you how much he liked you and how much in love he was with you.
Your mind returned to reality and you found yourself again in front of the mirror looking at your body, which you found more and more flaws as you looked at yourself. Your eyes filled with tears and a whimper left your mouth, you covered your face with your hands and let yourself fall to the floor in front of the mirror. You couldn't keep looking at yourself because you felt more and more horrible. Your body was deformed as you saw it and your face was full of defects. You couldn't control the tears that came out and you couldn't control the sobs that escaped between your lips. A soft knock on the door was heard over your crying.
"Baby?" Heeseung's soft tone of voice made you cry harder, you couldn't calm down "What's wrong? Are you hurt? I'm coming in" after the warning, the lock made a sound and the door slowly opened. Entering the room quickly scanning everything, there were your clothes all over the room, shoes and makeup scattered all over the floor. You were on the floor in front of the mirror hugging your legs and crying uncontrollably, your body shaking while your face was covered. Heeseung alerted and slowly approached you, crouching down next to you and placing a hand on your back where he gently caressed you. "Don't cry, princess, I'm here with you" those words seemed simple without being accompanied by any gesture, but on the other hand they made you feel safe and accompanied.
Heeseung was very aware of how you felt about yourself, the struggle you had from time to time with yourself because of how distorted your vision was when you stood in front of a mirror. He wanted to wrap you in his arms tightly, but he knew how sensitive you got in those moments and that you would hate him for touching you at that moment, you would even start insulting yourself and that was something that he hated. So he just stroked your back gently, crouching next to your balled up body in the corner of your room.
"I hate myself, Hee" those words hurt. It hurt you to say them out loud and it hurt Heeseung to hear them, but you two knew it was a very strong feeling that you couldn't get rid of overnight.
“I know, love” his hand continued to run up and down your back. "I know how hard it is and I know that no matter how many times I remind you how beautiful you are, how much I like you and everything I like about you, both inside and out, your mind don't want to change. I know that it doesn't help even if I say that I have never liked a person as much as I like you, that your personality and your body drive me crazy, your way of talking to me and looking at me, your smile and when you approach me with that insecurity of yours that torments you and which I do not understand because in my eyes you are perfect. But I am here with you, so that you can move forward and you can see yourself with my eyes, so you will understand what I mean with my words. You being who you are, is the best thing that could have happened to me." you couldn't stop the tears that came out of your eyes, you immensely appreciated every word that your boyfriend gave you and although you didn't realize it, they slowly entered your mind and settled there. Heeseung knew that, he knew that day by day he had to tell you those sweet and sincere words over and over again, he was willing to do it without complaining, that all that was needed was for you to believe them, for you to understand. So that you understood how the people around saw you. That in your own eyes you were insignificant, but in other people's eyes you were magnificent from every corner of your being.
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hello reader, you are beautiful, please don't be sad and don't compare yourself to anyone. you're unique, please love yourself very much, i know it's difficult but not impossible. we deserve to be happy! <3
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