#end international break on a high

[pernillecfcw]

Quality performance tonight ❤️🦁

#end international break on a high #the pride #england vs scotland #friendly match #international break #international duty #football #jude bellingham #harry kane #declan rice #phil foden #kieran trippier #marcus rashford #kalvin phillips #kyle walker #lewis dunk #callum wilson #harry maguire #engnt #the lads #england nt #england football #england national team #footy #international match #footballer #football blog #international football #footballers

[july-19th-club]

crazy how i’ve never known a time when i wasn’t masking or overperforming in order to impress adults, so for the majority of my schooling no adult in my life ever noticed there was something off about how i interpreted and interacted and that it was not easy to keep up with the pace they expected me to be at, or they willfully ignored it because some woman when i was seven had told them i was supposed to be too smart to struggle

#then there was the fact that i had internalized this by about fifth or sixth grade and i never wanted the other kids to look at me like they #were already starting to; i.e. a weirdo they wouldn't want to be friends with #but this sentiment only occurred to me when i was around ten by which time it was DEFFO too late #because i'd been being blissfully weird for the past five years at that point and they knew that #i spent most of middle and high school now also masking for the benefit of my peers in a all-hands-on-deck attempt to Be Likeably Normal #it was the most crucial thing in my life at the time. i had to be liked by every group of kids i couldn't carry the stain of Weird Kid #or i felt like it would completely end my life #i hung out with a set of alt kids and they had a reputation i was trying to break away from as 'too weird to be likeable' they were all very #like NICE and COOL and for the most part able to keep up with the fact that i didnt know any of their alt interests #but if i acted like i liked them too much then i'd be ostracized from the approval i *really* wanted so i was a pretty bad friend i think #not to their faces i just. was always looking over the fence so to speak #i stopped associating with jon or any of the other kids who (by then i knew) probably shared my neurodivergences #because that was the lowest social rung and i couldn't be seen there without ruining my chances at Being Respected #so no tss's who would help me with any emotional issues no being friends with jon no talking to anyone in that camp #so there's never been a time in my life when i wasn't constructing a type of person to be interacted with by others that they'd approve of #and i guess i got fairly good at it because it's basically my Self now but i wish it wasn't sometimes #then again that would open up a whole new can of problems

[7-oh-ta1]

I'm tired of living in the boonies bec why am I qualified to be a preschool teaching assistant in virginia but here there's nothing but fast food and dollar stores

#lindsay speaks #I'm not saying preschool teacher is my dream job but like #it's so frustrating to HAVE qualifications. but not for anything in your area #i was an intern radio show host in high school for 2 years+ i did a scholarship program that gave me 1 year of teaching experience #for example!! i have a lot of varying skills!!! but instead I have with 8-9 hour shifts 30min break only and by the end of the day I'm with #manager that doesn't like me bec I'm still learning where everything is..... all i can do is my best. i guess i just feel like crap having #skills that i can't use and instead having a job that doesn't need any of the things i can do + minimum wage... it makes me feel a little #like . why isn't there any options when i have a wide variety of skills.... it feels meaningless... #// vent

[gawayne]

:/

#weight and food talk ahead: #so starting adderall killed my appetite pretty bad right #and it took me a couple weeks to figure out that I still have to eat even if I’m not hungry #so I visibly lost an unknown amount of weight and I’m trying to count calories to get it back. like a quest #the slight gamification is actually fun and does help #but to gain a pound a week apparently I have to have like 2300 calories a day and I’m Very frustrated #is there even enough time in a day to eat that much. I already feel like half my time is taken up preparing or eating food #and I’m not hungry enough to eat more anyway >:/ AND also too many high calorie snacks are either Very expensive or time intensive #I’m aware that that is a very average amount to eat I just do not understand how to do it #😔 #also I’m having a Weird fucking time on adderall and actually if anyone else has tried it I would appreciate hearing ur experience #I feel a lot calmer and less restless. that agonizing boredom feeling is less common and it’s easier to start tasks #but my focus while doing those tasks is not better even a little bit #in fact it feels worse because I don’t seem to be able to hyperfixate on a task anymore #I’m also like. kinda hazy and sluggish. I Can do things but I don’t feel any internal motivation I need someone else to tell me to #since getting above 15mg (xr) I haven’t found much improvement and I’ve also like stopped feeling anything most of the time #I would imagine this isn’t the intended consequence but idk. I’ve also ended school in the meantime so some listlessness makes sense #i also dissociate chronically so feeling numb and disconnected isn’t new. usually hyperfixating would be my break from that so idk whether #the adderall is actually making me feel numb or whether I’m just having like a flare up of that #so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if anyone has opinions I would appreciate them

[figtreeandvine]

I want to write a movie that is sort of the flip side of a Hallmark holiday movie. Not an anti-Hallmark movie, just like the other side of the same coin.

It starts with a well-dressed professional woman driving a convertible along a country road, autumn foliage in the background, terribly scenic. She turns onto a dirt road/long driveway, and stops next to a field of Christmas trees, all growing in neat, ordered rows, perfectly trimmed and pruned to form. She steps out of the car--no, she's not wearing high-heels, give her some sense!--and knocks on the door of a worn but nice-looking farmhouse. An older woman, late fifties maybe, answers the door, looking a bit puzzled. The younger woman asks if she can buy a Christmas tree now, today. The older woman says they don't do retail sales--and the younger woman breaks down crying.

Cut to the two women sitting at the kitchen table with cups of tea. The young woman (Michelle), no longer actively crying, explains that her mother loves Christmas more than anything, but is in the hospital with end-stage cancer. Her doctors don't think she'll live to see December, let alone Christmas. Nobody is selling Christmas trees in September, so could the older woman please make an exception, just this once? The older woman (Helen) regretfully explains that they have a contract to sell their trees that forbids outside sales. The younger woman nods, starts to stand up, but the older woman stops her with a hand and asks her what hospital her mother is in. After she answers the older woman says that "my Joe" will deliver a tree the next day. "Contract says I can't sell you a tree, but nothing says I can't give you one."

Next day "Joe" shows up at the hospital in flannel and jeans, with a smallish tree over her shoulder. Oh, whoops, that's Jo, Helen's daughter, short for Joanna, not Joe. Jo sets up the tree and even pulls out a box of lights and ornaments. Mother watches from hospital bed with a big smile as Jo and Michelle decorate the tree. Cue "end of movie" type sappiness as nurses and other patients gather in the doorway, smiling at the tree.

Cut to Michelle sitting in her dark apartment, clutching a mug of tea, staring out at the falling snow and the Christmas lights outside. Her apartment has no tree, no decorations, nothing. She starts at a knock on the door, goes to open it. Jo is standing there, again holding a tree over her shoulder.

Plot develops: the second tree is a gift, because Michelle might as well get it as the bank. The contract for the tree sales was an /option/ contract, which prevents them from selling to anyone else, but doesn't guarantee the sale. The corporation with the option isn't going to buy the trees, but Helen and Jo can't sell them anywhere else, and basically they get nothing. They'll lose the farm without the year's income. Michelle asks to see the contract and Jo promises to email it to her.

Next day at a very upscale law firm, Michelle asks at the end of a staff meeting if anyone in contract law still needs pro bono hours for the year. No one does, but a senior partner (Abe) takes her to his office and asks about it. She says the contract looks hinky to her ("Is that a legal term?" "Yes.") but contract law's not her thing. He raises an eyebrow and she grins and pulls a sheaf of paper out of her bag and hands it over. He reads it over, then looks up at her. "They signed this?"

More plot develops. Abe calls in underlings--interns, paralegals, whatever--and the contract is examined, dissected, and ultimately shredded (metaphorically). It's worse even than it looks--on January 1st Helen and Jo will have to repay the advanced they received at signing. The corporation has bought up a suspicious number of Christmas tree farms in previous years after foreclosure, etc.

Cut to Abe explaining all this to Helen and Jo while sitting with them and Michelle in a very swanky conference room. The firm is willing to take on the case pro bono, hopefully as a class's action suit for other farmers trapped by the contract--but there's no way it can go to court before January. Which will be too late to save the farm's income for the year. They might get enough in damages to tide them over, but….

After Michelle sees Helen and Jo out, she comes back and asks Abe if there's anything they can do immediately. Abe looks thoughtful for a long moment, then gets a really shark-like grin on his face. "Maybe…."

Cut to Helen wearing a bathrobe, coming into her kitchen in the morning. She looks out the window…and there's a food truck stopped in her driveway. She pulls a coat on over her robe and goes out--two more trucks have pulled up while she does this. Driver of the first truck asks her where they park. Another truck pulls up behind the others. Behind that is a black BMW--Abe rolls down the window and waves. Helen directs the trucks to the empty field/yard next to the house. Abe pulls up next to Helen's car and Jo's truck and parks. He and Michelle get out--Abe wearing a total power suit, Michelle in weekend casual.

The case will be easier if the corporation initially sues them for violating the (uninforcible!) contract, rather than them suing to corporation (damn if I know, but it's movie logic). So they're going to sell the trees now, and rounded up some food trucks and whatnot to draw people in.

Cue montage of Jo and Michelle running around helping people set up while Abe and Helen watch from the kitchen table. The table starts out covered in file folders…and slowly gains coffee cups and plates of cinnamon rolls. It becomes increasingly clear here that Abe and Helen are becoming as close as Jo and Michelle.

Everything gets set up and a very urban, very motley crowd appears--tats and studs and multiracial couples and LGBTQ parents and everything--and everyone is having a wonderful time eating funnel cake and choosing their tree so Jo and a bunch of rainbow-haired elves can cut it for them. At which point someone shows up from the corporation (maybe with a sheriff's deputy?) and starts yelling at Helen, who's running checkout. And suddenly Abe appears from the house and you realize why he's wearing that suit on a Saturday….

Cue confrontation and corporate flunky running off with their tail between their legs, blustering about suing. Cue Jo kissing Michelle. Cue Helen walking over and putting a hand on Abe's shoulder and smiling at her.

I want the lawyers to be the heroes because they are lawyers and know the law. I want a lesbian who lives in the country with her mother. I want urbanites to turn out as a community to help someone who isn't even part of their community. I want Michelle to keep working at her high-power job, loving Christmas and grieving her mother.

#hallmark #anti-hallmark #movie plot

[andrearrrrr]

Prince Rupert's drops are toughened glass beads created by dripping molten glass into cold water, which causes it to solidify into a tadpole-shaped droplet with a long, thin tail. These droplets are characterized internally by very high residual stresses, which give rise to counter-intuitive properties, such as the ability to withstand a blow from a hammer or a bullet on the bulbous end without breaking, while exhibiting explosive disintegration if the tail end is even slightly damaged.

In nature, similar structures are produced under certain conditions in volcanic lava

Prince Rupert's drop - Wikipedia

#nature

[sentient-stove]

"Hey, um, is this Miranda?"

"It is. Who am I talking with?"

Oh thank god, he was worried he saved the wrong number for a moment there. Danny hit his wrist against the side of the pipe again, the motion doing nothing to break the dampener off. "Cool, um. God. I feel so awkward calling you. It's Danny- um Daniel Fenton? I'm part of the Launchpad Program going on this summer with Wayne Industries? The, um, the like twenty or so high school interns and whatever?"

"Daniel," There was the click of typing and then a hum of recognition from Miranda. "I do remember you, you were the kid that tripped in the lobby and got a bloody nose his first day. Is there something wrong?"

"I, ah, how do I say this without sounding stupid-"

"Daniel, I had an intern call me the other day because she accidentally ended up locked in a custodial closet alone. Nothing phases me."

"Oh, okay. Um, I kinda got kidnapped. Just a little bit." This time, when he tried to bash the dampener off, there was a crack from the bone, followed by blossoming pain when his powers couldn't flood in to heal it. "Also, I think I'm in shock."

"…Previous point withdrawn."

#fanfic #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc comics #dpxdc #dc x dp #also thanks to everyone for getting my dani hits nightwing with a wok post to 5k notes #wip hell #tw: kidnapping #but like a mild kidnapping #recreational kidnapping for the soul #danny is mostly fine

[kairologia]

Your 12th house gifts and areas you struggle with most, according to your rising sign.

The 12th House is traditionally a desolate, dark, and isolating place. But what insights might you gain, were you to confront and explore that which you've been avoiding? Not unlike how every chart has a “natal promise”, every 12H has positive potential and negative burdens to show for itself. Here, we shall dive into that. Use Whole Sign Houses.

P.S: one configuration cannot explain everything about you as a person with a full-chart and a bunch of unique personal experiences, so if you do not relate to everything, that’s fine. ♥

— Aries Rising with Pisces in the 12H:

· Gift: Aries risings are profoundly intuitive & empathetic and this fact is oft understated. These people tend to be blessed with creativity & plenty of artistic gifts, and are incredibly inspirational to those around them. The teacher that inspires their students so profoundly they remain unforgotten even decades later, the hype man that supports their friend group’s endeavors most — these archetypes are found across the zodiac spectrum, but at an unusually high concentration among Aries risings.

· Struggle: they tend to feel overwhelmed by their unspoken emotions and have a hard time asserting personal boundaries. Aries rising natives tend to wear their hearts on their sleeves, and have a hard time keeping things in. If they *feel* something, they will make it known.

— Taurus Rising with Aries in the 12H:

· Gift: Taurus risings are blessed with incredible resiliency, & can overcome anything if they so desire. They tend to enjoy most & even be skilled at artistic pursuits that revolve around the erotic &/or grotesque. They are rarely put off by things, and are the type of people that can listen to you vent about all sorts of topics, no matter how ‘gross’ or taboo.

· Struggle: ironically, Taurus rising natives tend to simultaneously be very impatient while also being inclined to repressing and internalizing all sorts of emotions, not unlike a dormant volcano, leading to inner and outer conflict. They tend to be hot-headed and struggle letting go of matters they found hurtful.

— Gemini Rising with Taurus in the 12H:

· Gift: These people are incredibly grounded intellectually and it shines through their mental clarity and ability to communicate with precision. Though they may appear scatterbrained to others, their mind palace is incredibly well-compartmentalized. They tend to be great at artistic pursuits that call upon multiple senses at once and provide strong sensorial experiences.

· Struggle: Gemini rising natives tend to overanalyze emotions, which hinders the spontaneity and adaptative quality associated with other Gemini placements. They also tend to repress their desire for relational pleasure and connection, and have a hard time accepting that even they desire to connect with others.

— Cancer Rising with Gemini in the 12H:

· Gift: Cancer risings are capable of understanding the perspective of others with incredible ease, which grants them a versatile penmanship & communication skillset. They tend to excel at communication, writing, teaching, getting things across, as no matter how complex the topic at hand they will manage to break it down to others in a manner that is simple enough to be understood by anyone — in part explaining why they tend to be so great with kids.

· Struggle: Cancer rising natives often have a hard time reconciling rational thought with emotional intuition, leading to indecision — growing up, possibly as a defense mechanism, most Cancer risings tend to pick one end of the emotion vs reason spectrum and sticking to it, leading to unavoidable inner tension in adulthood.

— Leo Rising with Cancer in the 12H:

· Gift: not unlike Aries risings, their intuitive senses & understanding of other people’s hidden emotions are widely underestimated. Their ability to foster deep emotional connections with others & nurture those around them is second to none. They also tend to have the very rich & versatile emotional inner world that is often associated with water moons – in part explaining why they’re known for their creativity & dramatic flair.

· Struggle: Leo risings have a tendency to retreat into isolation upon feeling vulnerable. They tend to repress their feelings from the outside world, and hardly feel comfortable enough to let anyone in. In more extreme cases, there might even be a propensity towards denying certain emotions and repressing them altogether. They have a very polished facade & a strong sense of self, and consequently will hardly appreciate breaking out of character.

— Virgo Rising with Leo in the 12H:

· Gift: Virgo risings are known for telling it like it is — their authentic manner of self-expression and courage to confront anything that gets in their way is their signature brand. Though many Virgo risings tend to prefer blending in and going unnoticed, they’re in actuality extremely creative, and will hardly let other people’s narrative steer them at will.

- Struggle: a Virgo rising’s biggest critic is themselves, and oftentimes they tend to forget that their own desire to be perfect may not be shared by others, as most people value authenticity over perfection — leading to Virgo rising natives feeling rejected by those around them, as their desire to advise and help is inextricably linked to their sense of self. They tend not to realize that said advice is often unwarranted and unsought for, consequently taking everything to heart, which may result in them struggling with self-acceptance and vulnerability.

— Libra Rising with Virgo in the 12H:

· Gift: Libra risings have mastered the art of knowing that multiple things can be true at once, & their analytical minds are loaded with insight into hidden dynamics & truths. They tend to favor a practical approach to resolving emotional conflicts, which makes them seem as though they fear & avoid conflict, when in truth they had already assessed the situation and figured out the best path to returning to center.

· Struggle: Libra risings repress thought & opinion to keep the peace, & consequently feel as though their opinions matter less or not at all to those around them — which, once brought up, might come across as a point of confusion to those around them who generally value their insights immensely. They also tend to overanalyze emotions, be it their own or those of others, and thus struggle with expressing deeper feelings, or believing others to begin with, leading to inner conflict.

— Scorpio Rising with Libra in the 12H:

· Gift: Scorpio risings posess the ability to understand subconscious patterns no matter how convoluted they may be. Even at times where they struggle with understanding themselves, their emotions, desires and behavioural patterns, those of others are hardly a secret to them.

· Struggle: the 12th house is a lesson on balance & compromise for Scorpio risings. Their desire for harmony in inner conflicts is often at odds with their own subjectivity & inclination towards taking extremes in their daily lives, so they tend to struggle immensely with balance. They simultaneously obsess over & repress their hidden desires & preferences, leading to power struggles within the self. They also tend to struggle with forming connections with others, whether it’s due to failed past connections or an inherent fear of commitment or merely an extreme sense of detachment.

— Sagittarius Rising with Scorpio in the 12H:

· Gift: Sagittarius risings are known for their fearlessness and inclination towards spiritual & occult pursuits. A Sagittarius rising is never one to say no to or back down from new experiences, and have a sense of freedom that is defining to their personhood. Everyday is a potential new lesson to these people.

· Struggle: the same sense of freedom may lead to their tendency towards escapism. They tend to struggle with confronting their less superficial, deeper emotions, & may repress their anger a lot in their youth — leading to their being a lot more explosive and thrill-seeking in adulthood. Sagittarius risings are the type to prefer trying anything – even things many would advise against, just to prove a point, whether to themselves or others – as they believe they have no teacher other than life itself.

— Capricorn Rising with Sagittarius in the 12H:

· Gift: Capricorn risings are known for their philosophical perspective & optimistic outlook on challenges, which often translates to an ability to grow wiser at a faster rate than their peers. Their beliefs & values play a crucial role in their selfhood, so they tend to invest a lot of time into spiritual pursuits.

· Struggle: the flip side of their beliefs and values shaping their inner world in a way that is hard to get across to others is that they may be the type to struggle with forming connections with people who do not share the same beliefs & philosophies. They also tend to fear failure more than anything, & struggle to surrender to their own place in the grander scheme of things — these two points are inextricably linked and in order to grow past either, you as a Capricorn rising ought to address both simultaneously.

— Aquarius Rising with Capricorn in the 12H :

· Gift: Incredibly disciplined and persevering in confronting their inner fears. Overtime, they tend to develop a sense of stability and self-mastery that is second to none. While not intuitive in the stereotypical sense, they tend to have inexplicable hunches about things that hardly ever turn out to be incorrect. They tend to live well with & within chaos, sometimes at the expense of their well-being.

· Struggle: they tend to repress emotions and have a strong fear of vulnerability, which hinders their ability to form intimate connections and grow emotionally — they feel as though they have a built-in indestructible wall blocking them out & holding them back from everyone else. They may struggle with becoming responsible, or feel as though they matured too soon. Sometimes, it’s a bit of both.

— Pisces Rising with Aquarius in the 12H:

· Gift: Pisces risings are infinitely more rational than they are believed to be. They have an uncanny approach to understanding subconscious patterns, & tend to reason their way through any situation before reaching a judgement. Very insightful people who tend to be incredibly inquisitive as well, and would prod answers out of anyone if they so desire.

· Struggle: Pisces risings tend to isolate often, whether as a way to recalibrate or just out of preference. Natives of this rising sign, especially those with Air moons, often struggle with detachment and may find it hard to relate to statements implying they are inclined towards emotionality. These people often have or had a “weird kid” reputation ascribed to them by their peers that often stuck well into adulthood.

If you’d like a reading, more details can be found here!

#astrology #astro notes #astrological observations #hellenistic astrology #astro observations #astrology signs #astrology readings #zodiac #rising signs #12 houses #12h placements

[maxtermind]

if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

★ : summary :: as the roar of engines fades, the defeat on the track are mended in the arms of their significant other (when they lose a race) ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort; angst; fluff ★ : word count :: 2.7k

Max Verstappen

Max had never felt so distant from you. He had the win in his bag, he started good and was going to give it his all but was forced to retire due to a sudden engine failure while leading the race.

He was rightfully disheartened. The post-race meeting only added to his frustration as blame was thrown around instead of taking responsibility. It only got worse when he walked out of it with a, ‘This is such a waste of time.’

As he ranted in the car, his anger palpable, you listened silently, and caressed his hand when, had gotten a call from his dad.

“Just let it ring,” you whispered from the passenger seat. Your attempt was futile though before he picked up the call and put it on bluetooth in his ear.

You waited until you reached home before discreetly ending the call, giving Max a moment to compose himself. He didn’t let you hear anything but as he sat in his seat, rubbing his face to get rid of his emotions, you knew the conversation had affected him deeply.

Opening his car door, you pulled him out using his hand before getting home before you both took a shower in silence, allowing Max the space to process. It wasn't until you were tucked under the covers, clean and warm, that he finally spoke.

"I just hate feeling like I let everyone down," Max confessed, his voice heavy with guilt.

"You didn't let anyone down, Max,” you reassured him, kissing the top of his hand. “You gave it your all out there.”

"I still feel like I'm constantly disappointing everyone," Max muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

"You're not a disappointment, Max. You're a phenomenal driver, and sometimes things just don't go our way.”

"It's hard to believe that sometimes," Max admitted, his gaze distant and you realized what exactly he was thinking about right now.

"Your dad's words don't define you, Max. You're so much more than that," you said firmly, refusing to let him internalize the negativity.

"It's just… I've always looked up to him, you know? His opinion matters," Max confessed, his tone tinged with sadness.

"But you're your own person, Max. And you're incredible in your own right," you reminded him, squeezing his hand gently.

"I know, but… it still hurts," Max admitted, his shoulders slumping with the weight of it all.

"I wish I could shield you from all of this," you murmured, feeling a pang of helplessness. Your boyfriend nodded softly, looking so so so small that it was physically hurting you to even keep looking at him, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within.

"Hey, look at me," you said, gently tilting his chin up to meet your gaze. "You are loved, Max. Don't ever forget that." "Thanks, Y/N. I needed to hear that," Max replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Anytime, Max. I'm here for you, through the highs and the lows," you said earnestly, offering him a comforting embrace.

He looked conflicted for a second and you were sure whatever he was about to say was going to officially break your heart into two. Max's voice was barely above a whisper when he admitted it, his expression pained,"It's just… seeing them celebrate my failure, it stings."

"I know it's tough seeing those celebrations, Max, but remember, those people celebrating are just haters who can't accept that someone is doing better than them," you said firmly, trying to inject some perspective into the situation. "Their joy comes from a place of envy, not genuine happiness. Don't let their negativity dampen your spirit."

"I hope you're right," Max said, his voice tinged with doubt. "Thanks for always being there, babe. I don't know what I'd do without you," Max said sincerely, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"You'll never have to find out, Max. I'll always be by your side.”

Lewis Hamilton

Your heart dropped the moment you saw the tire puncture Lewis’ car in the second last lap of the race. His frustration and curses echoed through the headphones, reaching you with a painful clarity.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! This is all so shit!” Lewis’s distorted voice cried through the radio. “I was so fucking close!”

As much as it hurt you to listen to this, you decided to keep your emotions at bay so you could handle your boyfriend’s better. Silently making your way through the people in the paddock to the back.

The chaos and disappointment from everyone forcing your chest to hurt a little. The only thought in your mind was how Lewis was probably feeling much much worse than you right now.

You heard his car before you saw him, and when you did, the defeat etched on his face made you want to cry. Lewis seemed drained and defeated, devoid of the usual fire.

“Baby?” You called, catching his attention. He nodded at someone before making his way towards you. Pulling you into a less crowded area before wrapping his arms around your shoulder.

"I don’t think I can face the interviews and media circus after this," he confessed, his breath warm against your neck.

"Should I go get the getaway car ready?" You joked, delighted to hear a small huff from his mouth.

“Can’t really leave before that though,” Lewis replied. “I’m beat, just wish it wasn’t this close to winning.”

Realizing he needed encouragement, you took a deep breath and spoke softly.

"Lewis, it's incredibly tough luck to have a tire blowout so close to the finish line, especially when you were leading so strongly," you said, feeling his grip tighten around you. "But these moments, they test your resilience and determination."

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as you continued to rub his back.

"I know it's hard, Lewis, but remember, every setback is just a setup for a comeback," you whispered soothingly.

"I just had my heart set on this win," he murmured, disappointment evident in his voice.

"I know, love, but sometimes things don't go as planned," you replied, offering a comforting squeeze.

"It's like the universe has it out for me today," Lewis said with a bitter chuckle.

"Maybe it's just testing how badly you want it," you suggested optimistically. "Well, it's certainly made its point," he said, a hint of bitterness lingering.

You were about to speak again when he interrupted.

"I just wish it had been enough."

"It will be next time," you said confidently, refusing to let him dwell on the defeat.

"I hope you're right," Lewis said, a hint of determination creeping back into his voice. "Thanks for always believing in me.”

"Always, Lewis. That's what lovers are for," you said, smiling warmly at him, admiring his eyes that had some of their shine back intact.

Carlos Sainz

The relief you felt when Carlos walked out of the safety car before making his way towards you was indescribable. From the moment his car collided with another due to a racing incident until now, with his arms around your shoulders, you hadn't taken a single calm breath.

It was probably less brutal than what was shown on the screen, given that it happened so fast that none of the drivers had even processed what was happening. Still the incident had left you with a knot of dread in your stomach.

Carlos was okay, you repeated to yourself, but it didn't quell the pounding of your heart or the trembling of your hands. You were trying to stay composed but it was really hard while your boyfriend talked to someone from the team, frustrated that he had to retire so soon.

"Hey, at least you're still in one piece," you pointed out, trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation but it sounded dry and that was when Carlos took a good look at you, his gaze sharpening as he realized how shaken you were. "Babe, are you alright?" Carlos asked, his concern evident in his voice as he reached out to touch your trembling hand.

"I'm fine, just a bit shaken," you admitted, forcing a shaky smile as you tried really hard to stay in the present and not let your brain run rampant.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that," Carlos said, his eyes filled with regret as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. Knowing that he would’ve been the same if it was the other way around.

"I promise I'll be more careful out there," Carlos vowed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"I'm just glad you're okay," you whispered, burying your face in his chest as you finally allowed yourself to let go of the tension you had been holding.

"It's not your fault, Carlos. These things happen in racing-”

"I know, but I hate putting you through this," Carlos said, his voice filled with remorse. "Let's forget about the race for now, okay? We'll focus on us."

"That sounds perfect," you agreed, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you leaned into his warmth, longing to put the ordeal behind you.

"I love you so much," Carlos said earnestly, his eyes filled with love as he looked at you. Hands holding you tight against him, grounding you so you could understand that he was real and wasn’t going anywhere.

"Let's get out of here and grab some dinner, just the two of us," Carlos proposed, eager to shift your focus away from the day's events as he led you towards the exit. Mentally making a list of things he would tell you to take your mind off of what happened today.

Charles Leclerc

You found yourself seething almost as much as Charles after yet another podium slipped away due to a messed up pit stop. It lasted more than a fucking forever at such a pivotal moment in the race.

It really made you wonder whether his team was even working with him or deliberately against him to make sure that neither of them could score more points. He had opted to stay silent, shutting out the media and team meetings, and unfortunately, that meant withdrawing from you too.

“Charles?” You asked after giving him ample time to process the race in the sitting room all alone like he requested.

He simply hummed before taking a sip of whatever his glass held before you carefully took it from his hand and put it on the table. Crawling into his lap to make sure he knew he could lean on you.

"This isn't the solution," you whispered, pointing to yourself. "Talk to me. Mid-life crises are lighter when shared."

“I don’t think I have the brain to make a correct decision ever.”

"Hey, don't say that," you said firmly, looking into his eyes with a mixture of concern and determination. "You're one of the most talented drivers out there, Charles. One pit stop mishap doesn't change that," you assured, brushing a stray hair from his face.

"But it keeps happening, Y/N," Charles replied, his voice heavy with frustration. "I know, love, and it's unfair. But you can't let it define you," you said, cupping his cheek in your hand.

"I understand how frustrating it is, Charles," you said, your voice soft but determined. "But dwelling on what went wrong won't change anything."

"What do you suggest, then?" Charles asked, a hint of desperation in his tone. "Let's analyze what happened today. Break it down step by step," you suggested, gently guiding him to a more constructive approach. "Let's start with the pit stop. What went wrong there?" you prompted, encouraging him to identify the specific issues.

"It was a miscommunication between the crew members," Charles recalled, his brow furrowing with concentration.

"Okay, so how can we prevent that from happening in the future?"

"Maybe we need to implement clearer communication protocols," Charles suggested, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes.

"That sounds like a solid plan. Let's discuss it with your team tomorrow," you said, nodding in agreement.

"But what if they don't listen to me?" Charles wondered, his confidence wavering.

"You're their driver, Charles. Your input is invaluable. They'll listen," you assured him, offering a reassuring smile.

"I feel a bit better now," Charles admitted, a hint of relief in his tone. “I was just so lost, I should've talked to you a bit sooner.” Your boyfriend whispered before leaning down and dropping a soft lingering kiss on your lips, conveying what words couldn't. "I'm lucky to have you, Y/N."

"And I'm lucky to have you, Charles. We make a great team," you replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

Lando Norris

The usual smile was off of Lando’s face. He faced an unavoidable collision with another car in the chaotic start of the race, resulting in damage to his car and an early retirement. Though he tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, the tension in his jaw and the sharpness in his gaze betrayed his true emotions.

Lando was typically a laid back playful guy who was always joking around, had retreated into himself on this dismal day, with even the reporters giving him a wide berth. No one has seen him this dejected before and it was killing you.

However, as soon as the race concluded, it was clear why he was keeping up appearances. Lando pecked your cheek and told you to stay put before following the rookie who had collided with his car.

Alarm bells rang in your head and you were right behind him, stopping him using his shoulder.

“Babe, maybe it's best to cool down before confronting him.” You saw him sigh and open his mouth to retort but you were quicker. “Walk with me.”

You understood him obviously, knowing that the incident was beyond his control and shattered his hopes for a strong finish.

"I can't just let it slide, Y/N," Lando said, his voice tight with frustration as he glanced back towards the rookie's garage.

“I understand, Lando, but lashing out won't change anything, you said gently, placing a comforting hand on his arm, relieved when he finally started walking away.

"I just feel so helpless," Lando admitted, his shoulders slumping with defeat.

"You're not helpless, Lando. You're just taking a moment to process everything," you reassured him, placing a gentle kiss against his lips.

"It's just hard to stay positive when everything feels like it's falling apart," Lando confessed, his usual optimism dimmed by disappointment. "I just hate feeling like I'm at the mercy of circumstances.”

"I know, love. But remember, you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together," you assured him, intertwining your fingers with his. “You, me and the team. He’s going to face penalties anyway.”

"I just wish I could turn back time and avoid that collision," He sighed, letting you drag him to a park nearby for a walk.

"I understand, love. But dwelling on what could have been won't change the present. Let's focus on what we can do now," you suggested, leading him away from the chaos of the race track.

"But what if this affects my standings in the championship?" He wondered aloud, his brow furrowing with worry, a pout evident on his face.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, babe. Right now, let's focus on taking care of you," you said, your voice filled with determination. "Let's just take this walk and clear our heads, okay? If you still want to talk to him later, I’ll support you."

He was extremely grateful that you pulled him away at the time because not even an hour later, the rookie approached him and apologized for his mistake.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 angst #★ : my work ! #f1 fluff #hurt/comfort

[weasleyreidstyles]

on a night like tonight

wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠

prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)

warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption

~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx

The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.

You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.

The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.

"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"

Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.

"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.

Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?

And did he really return them?

You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.

You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.

~∞~

It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.

You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.

You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.

"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.

"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.

"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.

He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.

"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.

He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.

"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.

"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.

"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.

"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.

"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.

"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.

You've always been my favourite, darling.

The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.

Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.

~∞~

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.

"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.

"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.

"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.

"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.

"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.

"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.

#hogmarch challenge #mattheo riddle x reader #harry potter #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #fluff

[marvelsswansong]

you made me hate this city

summary: It was just a stupid bet. A way to prove Jason and his asshole friends wrong, to finally get under the blonde's skin. It was never supposed to end with Eddie falling in love, nor with him laying on your doorstep with bruised knees, begging for your forgiveness.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, ice queen/social outcast reader, Hopper!reader (goddaughter), reader is 18+ (impli. twenties), fluff, humor, angst, happy ending tho ofc

☆ word count: 17K+ (i stg it's worth it) ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Winters in Hawkins were unbearable.

Eddie's fingers - dry skin cracking by his knuckles, pink lines marred by green veins poking out of his skin - shakily held up the lit joint to his chapped lips, allowing him to inhale deeply and let out a slow drag of smoke. Much like his muted breaths, the white whisps of air curled upwards in lazy swirls before dissipating into the night air, providing a momentary release from the cold.

The freezing temperatures embraced Eddie just as quickly afterwards, making him grumble in discomfort, swearing under his breath for how long Jason and his group of friends were taking to finish the damn basketball game. The heat provided from his van was rather weak - the heater having blown a fuse a week ago which he had yet to fix - and his jean jacket did little to provide any additional warmth as he grasped the lapels of the jacket and pulled it closer towards his body.

God, where were those assholes?

As if fate had been listening to his internal monologue, Eddie soon heard the crunching of snow beneath several pairs of feet accompanied by the recognizable rowdy chatter between the basketball players. Leading the group as usual was Jason Carver - the blonde's signature smug expression replaced by one of annoyance - followed by his two best friends, a brunette and a redhead who were practical carbon copies of each other (muscular airheads with big egos and loud voices). Not that Eddie could really distinguish between the basketball players at Hawkins High. They all tended to come from the same pool of people.

Tall, fit, conventionally attractive, white males from cushy upper class backgrounds.

Unfortunately, that also meant jocks were one of his most profitable clients. Hence why Eddie had dragged his van and stash of goods half-way across town during winter break in the freezing cold. Having waited a staggering twenty minutes with nothing more than a jean jacket to keep him company, he was simply looking forward to finalizing the deal and to be able to drive back home to fall underneath the covers.

"You got the goods, freak?" Nate, the tall brunette, yelled out in advance, clapping his meaty hands together. Eddie had to actively suppress an eyeroll - no matter how many times he regularly dealt with them, they'd never even gone so far as to call him by his real name. Wordlessly kicking open the back of his van, he pulled off the green tarp overlaying the interior to reveal a hefty amount of weed, neatly packaged in plastic containers and paper bags.

"What'd you want?" the metalhead asked, voice monotone and face straight - completely immune to their presence at this point. The transaction was, after all, a regular routine at this point so as to make Eddie's reactions automatic and reflexive. He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as he could.

The basketball player standing next to Nate, a slim redhead named Oliver, cut into the conversation whilst brushing falling snowflakes off of his varsity jacket with a frown.

"Give us everything, son of satan."

"Everything?" Eddie raised his eyebrows, unable to hide his surprise. Jason only clicked his tongue at that, left hand coming up to swiftly comb through his hair - the blonde was on edge, that was as clear as daylight to see.

"Yeah, jackass, just give us what you got. I'm throwing a massive party and my parents are in California for another two weeks so I need all you got."

"That'll be $1,500." Eddie slowly said, eyeing the blonde up and down, expecting the man to pull out of the deal at any moment. Instead, the jock only let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his duffel bag to the floor before digging out a wad of cash.

"That's a shit ton of money you're blowing on weed, Carver." Oliver commented, slapping his friend's shoulder.

"Not enough money to impress (Y/n) though, apparently." Nate added from the side, causing both him and Oliver to crack up at the expense of a fuming Jason, the blonde's fists clenching tightly by his sides.

"Fuck off, would you?" the blonde shrugged his friend's arm off of his shoulders quickly, eyes burning with annoyance and betrayal. Eddie knew he wasn't supposed to be listening in on their conversation, his brown eyes still focused on the stack of notes in his hands as his fingers combed through each bill one by one. But his ears perked up at the mention of your name and he couldn't help but listen in closer as Jason's teammates laughed even harder at their leader's expression of fury.

"I'm telling you. Your daddy's money and status may get you everything you want, but not even you can win over the ice queen of Hawkins High." Nate drawled, with Oliver nodding eagerly behind him.

Jason only rolled his shoulders forward at that, unclenching his jaw with a frustrated sigh.

"Well how the fuck was I supposed to know that she was going to throw her drink on me and call me a 'blonde bimbo in ugly basketball shorts' just cause I asked her out?"

The chuckle that escaped from Eddie's lips was dangerous, but he couldn't help but let out a short laugh at the recollection of your comment, subjecting himself immediately to the harsh gazes of the three jocks. Jason in particular looked offended at that, cracking his knuckles and flashing the metalhead a stinging glare.

"You think that's funny, Munson?"

Counting up to the last thousand - damn, Jason really had handed him $1,500 on the dot - Eddie looked up at Jason with a sly smile, shaking his head lightly side to side.

"Meh, just a little. Doesn't matter though. You got the cash, I got the weed." he replied before stepping to the side, signaling for Nate and Oliver to begin shoving the packets of weed into their duffel bags. Whilst they did so, Jason slowly walked forward towards Eddie, an egotistical swagger to his steps.

"What? You think you can do better, freak?

"Asking girls out? Eh, maybe." Eddie decided to goad the blonde further, enjoying the delicious cruelty of being able to toy with the fragile ego of the star basketball player. Watching how Jason's neck strained at that comment, adam's apple bopping up and down.

Suddenly, the angry expression on Jason's face melted away into a wide grin, a new delightful idea seemingly having popped into his mind.

"Tell you what, freak. Let's wager a bet." Jason's tongue dragged across his lower lips slowly, his eyes were glinting with a certain kind of danger Eddie couldn't quite place. "You think you're such tough shit, that you're so much better than me - why don't you go after (Y/n)? If you can somehow get the infamous ice queen to say yes to a date, you win."

"And what exactly would I win?"

"I'll pay double the usual for all our dealings. Heard through the grapevine your shitty trailer home's overdue for a fix, no?"

Oliver and Nate cackled behind Jason at that comment, igniting fiery hatred in the metalhead's veins. Jaw feeling stiff, he forced himself to sit up straight, staring right back at the jocks.

"... That, and you leave me and my friends alone for the rest of the year."

"For that price, you'll have to have her say yes to prom too!" Oliver yelled out from the side, to which Jason nodded.

"Get her to say yes to dates and then prom, and then we'll say you win. I pay double, you can fix your shitty dump you call a house, and we'll stop bothering you and your band of freaks. Deal?"

It was no different to staring the devil in the face, devious and cruel smirk matched with voice dripping with venom as the blonde extended one hand forward. Eddie stared at it for a few seconds, contemplating his decisions: his uncle had tried to be sly about money problems but winter was only getting colder, and now that he had Dustin, Lucas and Mike in the group, he did want the bullying to stop against his group.

Swallowing his doubts, Eddie quickly shook Jason's hand, never once breaking eye contact.

"Deal."

-------------------------------------

First week back from winter break.

Eddie has been agonizing over how to even approach you. He's only spoken to you once before.

Actually, that may be an overstatement, he thinks, now looking back.

Eddie was being blocked from accessing his locker as a group of cheerleaders gossiped in the hallways, each of them blatantly ignoring Eddie's quiet pleas for them to move. When he coughed loudly and tried to wiggle through the crowd, the two head cheerleaders by the front shot him a nasty glare, the blonde one even going so far as to look him up and down and smirk.

"Thought I smelled trailer trash. Piss off, freak."

"I'm just trying to get to my locker, Joanne." he'd deadpanned - normally, he would've just walked away by now but he really needed to get to his fucking locker for that damn history textbook.

"Well we're too busy catching up about the rager Dianne went to last week in Idaho, so you can wait, okay?" the other head cheerleader, a petite raven haired girl named Sandra, snapped. That elicited a crowd of giggles to erupt amongst the group, and Eddie sighed again, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

"Look-"

"Didn't know this was the hangout spot for superficial barbies skipping their geometry classes." you sneered, coy smirk dancing on your glossy lips. The group of girls instantly froze at the sound of your voice, causing even the two head cheerleaders by Eddie to straighten up in fear.

"What'd you want, (L/n)?" Joanne stuttered out, the low pink flush in her cheeks clearly marking her embarrassment and fear. Eddie watched in awe as you simply stared the cheerleader down, dissecting the girl's layers with one glare and a low chuckle under your breath.

"For you and your fake friends to leave, obviously. What, too dumb to even figure that out?"

"Y-you can't make us leave! You have no authority to command so." Sandra blurted out, eyes darting away to the floor when you redirected your fiery gaze at her. Eddie had to admit, you were kind of terrifying - sharp eyes drawn forward, head held high, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack.

"Is that so?" you questioned, stepping one step closer to the crowd of cheerleaders, all of whom instinctively backed up against the wall. Pink tongue tracing your lower lips, you cocked your head to the side in feigned interest. "I guess you only ever listen to the authority of Joanne's boyfriend, huh, Sandra? When he's leaving hickies on your neck and blowing off dinners with Joanne for you?"

"You did what?!" Joanne screamed out in anger at her best friend, causing Sandra to begin running in the opposite direction. Sensing a battle brewing between their two leaders, the rest of the cheerleaders deserted the hallway, leaving you and Eddie alone in the aftermath. You rolled your eyes, shoving away the last cheerleader evacuating the scene before Eddie's left hand reached out to grab your wrist.

"W-wait." he stuttered out, hesitant. You looked down at his hand with a cold glare, before staring back up at him in annoyance.

"What."

"Thank you for standing up for me. I mean, no one's ever talked back to the popular kids for me before. It's really cool of you." he rambled, hands fidgeting by his neck, not being able to quite meet your gaze upon feeling chills run down his spine at your icy demeanor. Your only response to his comment was to aggressively shake off his hand, recoiling from his touch as if you'd been burnt.

"I wasn't doing any of that for you, Munson. They were in the way to my Chemistry class."

Turning on your heel, you disappeared into the foreground before Eddie could muster up a response.

The rumors were true, he realized. You were exceptionally beautiful - it was no wonder that you were rumored to be scouted by the cheerleaders by third period on your first day (had you not literally dumped an iced coffee over their leader when she'd approached you during lunch). Even when you were snarling at him, arms crossed in a defensive posture and chilling orbs glaring daggers into his eyes, he couldn't help but feel warmth rise to his cheeks from being able to gaze at your face up close.

But Eddie wasn't able to focus on your features much - the dip of your neck leading down to the valley of your breasts, your glossy lips and bright eyes, jaw and cheeks carved by the harsh sunlight - when you'd snapped at him and turned the other way.

Staring down at his now empty hands, he shrugged. You were indeed, an ice queen.

Cut to the present, Eddie's hiding behind the door of his own locker, peeking out at the hallway every few seconds to watch you shuffle through your own belongings. Headphones around your ears, Walkman tape bouncing alongside your side as you pull down a stack of books from the top shelf, your skirt rides up ever so slightly to bunch at your waist.

To any passing stranger, you may even look sweet at the moment - soft body hugged by the green fabric, knee high socks, lipstick cautiously being applied by the small mirror taped to your locker door.

But Eddie knows better. The whole school knows better, with the way everyone makes a point to avoid you. Cheerleaders stop walking and turn the other way, the jocks avoid your gaze and keep as long of a distance from you, and even the nerds and band geeks make sure to walk with their head down and mind their steps to not bump into you.

"What are you looking at?" Dustin suddenly jumps in, face few inches from Eddie, causing the older boy to straighten up in surprise and hit his head against the wall. Clutching his head where it's beginning to bruise, he makes it a point to glare at the curly haired freshman, who only flashes him an innocent smile.

"Ouch, what the hell, Henderson?" Eddie grumbles.

"You got that 'I'm lost in my thoughts' look on your face. And I was just curious as to what could be so interesting to have you staring off into space."

"It's nothing." Eddie quickly blurts out, practically slamming his locker shut and leaning against it with a faux grin, cool relaxed posture with his arms crossed. Dustin doesn't buy that, only frowning in disbelief, before leaning to the side to peek towards where Eddie was staring.

The only person really visible is you, thumbing through your notebooks, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Holy shit, were you... staring at (Y/n) (L/n)?" Dustin semi-shouts out of shock, forcing Eddie to practically grab the younger boy by the front of his t-shirt and yank him backwards, narrowly avoiding the curious look you throw behind your back upon hearing your name be shouted out.

"Keep your damn voice down, geez." Eddie swears, heart thrumming with anxiety. Dustin's face only quirks up in semi-annoyance, his left hand coming up to slap across the senior's chest.

"Why were you staring at her?"

"I was not staring at her." Eddie weakly responds. It's a total lie and they both know it, with Eddie unable to even look Dustin straight in the face.

"Listen, I know you're crazy and your whole thing is going against the grain - which I think is awesome, don't get me wrong. But getting involved with her? That's a death wish, man. She's fucking scary." Dustin shudders, shaking off faux chills as you slam your locker shut and shove past a group of cowering teens, not even sparing them a second glance.

Cursing internally, the metalhead swallows his comments and forces out a grin.

"Relax, man. I'm not getting involved with anyone."

----------------------------------

Eddie finally gets the courage to talk to you on a rainy Friday afternoon. The parking lot's deserted and the sky's a murky gray, harsh showers slapping against dulled windows fogged up from the cold.

Tucking his roleplaying notebook underneath his left arm, carefree smile on his face from the fantastic D&D session he's just had, he almost walks past where you're leaning against the wall without acknowledging that you're alone.

You're so good at that, Eddie realizes: blending into the background, simultaneously being so eye-catching and beautiful to catch his attention, whilst also exuding an uninviting aura that makes his brain immediately divert his gaze elsewhere.

Tapping your converse shoes against the cement floor, your head is drawn downwards with your eyes narrowly focused in on a hardcover book Eddie can't read the name of. The entire hallway's deserted and Eddie realizes that now's the best time - more than ever - to make his first move.

"Hey. (Y/n), right?" he starts out, waving for your attention and flashing you his most charming smile. It doesn't even leave a dent on your face: lips still in a straight line, your head not even picking up to stare at him.

"What do you want?" you drawl out, flipping a page with your thumb. He fumbles on what to say next, not used to having to speak to someone who won't even look at him - at the very least, he thinks, when jocks are jeering at him or cheerleaders are insulting him, they flash him a dirty glance.

"Tutoring." is the first thing that leaves his lips and that does the job of causing you to still and look up at him with your eyebrows raised, mocking grin on your face.

"Tutoring? You do know that I'm barely passing all my classes, right?" you spit out, unimpressed. Stranded, Eddie's hands fly up in mock surrender, voice edged with nerves as he forces out a laugh.

"Yeah uh, no, I meant like... I could tutor you."

You chuckle at that - a dry, bitter sound that makes him cringe - perfectly manicured fingers curling to point accusingly at his figure.

"You, Eddie Munson, repeat senior - tutoring me? Yeah right. Fuck off, won't you?"

Licking his lips, Eddie takes in a deep breath, ready to try and persuade you again when the loud honking of a car cuts in. Looking over your shoulder, he can see the faint outline of a truck and a man sitting by the front of the driver's seat, shouting your name. He can't make out much about the man's features - the glass windows fogged up and obscured by the pouring rain - and you brush past Eddie with ease, shoulders colliding with his.

"Well that went well." Eddie sarcastically comments under his breath.

Maybe this bet isn't going to work out, he bitterly thinks, kicking a small pebble in his way.

Then it's Monday. And thank god for Ms. Rogers of his American History class - because she announces a new group project, and the pairings just so work out to pair you and him together. Eddie has to conceal the rush of joy and relief when he sees his name hastily scrawled next to yours on the whiteboard, keeping his face straight and outwardly disinterested when he sits down next to you.

"Hey there, partner." he jokes, sliding his chair closer to the table. Your gaze remains fixated on your nails, your only acknowledgment of his presence being the rolling of your eyes. "How's life?"

"Life is life, Munson." you spit, harsh gaze shifting a fraction to cast him a dirty glance. It makes him feel small, goosebumps rising across his skin from the way your lip snarls and your voice tightens.

"Right, well, now that we're project partners we'll probably be seeing a lot of each other. Do you wanna meet up after school to discuss the basics?" Eddie trails off slowly, cautiously trying to survey your reactions.

He's silently bracing for another cruel remark - or maybe a disinterested eyeroll, coupled with a middle finger to his face - but to his surprise, you huff out a quick sigh and unclench your jaw.

"Fine. The library at 3.30."

"Oh actually, I was wondering if we could do later because technically we're supposed to have a Hellfire campaign tonight-"

You hold one hand up to his face, forcing him to shut up, before throwing him an annoyed glance.

"Do I look like I care? Reschedule."

All other arguments die in his mouth when the teacher begins to talk, signaling for everyone in the class to fall silent and redirect their attention to the front of the classroom. Eddie shifts to look forward, but he can't help but quickly glance at you from the corner of his eyes.

You look agitated, teeth biting down on the end of a yellow pencil, grinding down onto hard wood. Shoulder tensed, body braced forward as you lean onto your propped up arms. Eddie realizes then that he's never seen you relaxed. Or seen you smile, or hell, be anything other than aggressive and tense.

The thoughts of the bet with Jason re-enter his mind, which he's quick to scrub away in an attempt to pay attention. Above all, he supposes, he'd like to at least pass this fucking class so he's not a fourth time repeat senior.

The end of the school day arrives in a flash, it seems, with him anxiously jumping up and down on the balls of his feet outside the library whilst waiting for you to appear. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he then feels a warm hand on his back, twisting around clumsily to see your non-amused expression staring back at him.

"Come on, Munson. I don't have all day."

The first half an hour is painfully awkward. Eddie keeps on throwing jokes - "if I have to read another passage about a dead white man, I think I'm going to die myself" - and thoughtful compliments - "that's a really good idea, (Y/n), thank god we were paired together or else I would've failed" - but you don't seem the least bit deterred. Sitting at least five inches away from him, shoulders hunched over as your gaze remains fixated on the stack of papers strewn over the table surface. There's a permanent frown on your face, pulling down and wrinkling your features, coupled with an unwavering silence.

Eddie wonders what it'd be like if you smiled instead.

"So what do you think? I reckon pretty much everyone's going to do the easy topics - the ratification of the constitution or the fight for independence. So maybe it'd be better if we did something different, like maybe how the two party system emerged?" Eddie suggests lightly, leaning back on his seat, flashing you a hopeful smile.

You don't even look up at him, shrugging your shoulders.

"Sure, whatever."

"If you think there's something else we could do, I'd love to hear it." He's practically begging you to speak at this point, considering he's been the one filling the silence in the room for the past half hour.

"Don't have any ideas."

"You sure?"

"YES! Jesus christ, Munson, are you deaf?" you snap, looking up at him angrily.

"Alright, god, I'm sorry that I'm trying to include you in OUR project." he retorts, feeling his patience run dry. "You know-" He lets out a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I've been nothing but nice to you the past few weeks-"

"Why is that?" you press, voice suddenly quiet.

"W-what?"

His breath catches in his throat when you make full eye contact with him, yellow embers reflecting in your orbs from the light bulbs hanging overhead.

"I'm confused as to why you've been so nice to me lately, Munson. What's your end game?" you question, slamming your book shut. Eddie blinks at you silently like a fish out of water - what the hell is he supposed to say to that? It must look awfully odd from your point of view, he realizes, for you two to go from strangers to him trying to talk to you all the time.

But what's he supposed to say? "Jason Carver and I fought and we got into a bet that I could seduce you and bring you to prom because you're this notorious ice queen."

Yeah right.

Exhaling quickly, he just cocks his head to the side and feigns calmness.

"Maybe I just wanted to get to know you better."

"Me, seriously?" you scoff, clearly not believing him.

"Yeah! Look, I... I know what it's like for people at this shitty high school to not take you seriously or to make you feel like a complete outcast. I figured you could use a friend! Because no offense, I have the Hellfire Club, but I've never seen you with anyone but yourself."

He's being pretty sincere with that statement, and it seems to come through as you raise your eyebrows slowly in response, unreadable expression on your face.

"You've been... watching me?"

"Not in a creepy way! Just consider it, like, one outcast looking out for another."

It's the slightest change, a reflex that lasts for less than a second, but he catches the end of your lips twitch ever so slightly to indicate a grin. It disappears just as quickly it appears, but he catches it nonetheless, and it makes hope blossom in his lower abdomen.

"... Alright." you surrender, gaze slightly softer, voice no longer aggressive and defensive. It's impossible for him to conceal his joy at that.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Munson. I suppose I could be a bit nicer to you. But-" you poke him on the side with a spare pencil. "No promises. No pushing me into anything. We're hardly acquaintances, let alone friends. But I suppose if we need to work together on this stupid project together, we might as well get along. Okay?"

Eddie nearly pulls a muscle with how fast he nods in affirmation.

"Okay."

---------------------------------------

Tuesdays and Thursday evenings are from then on reserved for after school meet ups to work on the project. You're still characteristically you - full of mean comments, sassy eyerolls, judgmental gazes and all. But he does notice that as time goes on, you're snarling at him less and loosening up ever so slightly.

He's yet to seen you smile, however, though he's gotten close a couple of times. Like when he slipped on a banana peel whilst walking out the library with you last week or when yesterday, he made a dumb joke about a horrendous illustration of Thomas Jefferson in the textbook.

On a windy February afternoon, you two end up staying a bit later than expected. Eddie leaning against the wall, sitting on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed as he pours through five heavy leather bound books, you're hunched over a shitty desk lamp and a cup of coffee as you highlight passages from a textbook. Neither of you have cared to check the clock or have registered the fact that it's been a full two hours since the librarians notified you two that they're heading out.

"I think my brain's melting." he complains, slipping down the wall slowly in a dramatic fashion. You shoot him an amused glance, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth.

"Tough luck, devil boy. We've still got a lot more to read."

Eddie groans, rubbing his eyes with his metal ring clad fingers.

"I know, but it feels like we've been reading boring books in this stuffy room FOREVER now!"

The two of you pause at that, it suddenly dawning on both of you that the rest of the library seems oddly... dark. And quiet.

"Shit. What time is it?" you ask aloud, standing up so quickly that you topple your chair over. The nearest clock - hanging behind a row of oak bookshelves - indicates that it's nearly six thirty pm.

Far, far, later than anyone would be at school.

It's a scramble to dog-ear pages, organize the books in their relevant places and to shove all your belongings in to your respective bags before racing down the hallway to the front doors, which of course, are locked.

"Well, I guess we're gonna die here." Eddie remarks, dropping his hands from the front doors with a sigh. You slap him across the shoulder at that, though this time the action's more playful, more tongue in cheek.

"Relax, Munson. All we need is a phone, do you think the front office's phones still work?"

"Yeah. I would know, because they made a call to my uncle this morning to complain that I came in an hour late to first period."

"Classic Eddie." you comment, to which he visibly stiffens and stares down at you with awe. "What?" you press, confused at why he's suddenly looking at you like that.

"You said my name. Not Munson, not devil boy, not an insult."

To his quiet surprise, you seem to get embarrassed at that, eyes dropping to the floor as you shift nervously on your feet.

"I mean, that's your name, right? But if you prefer I call you like Munson instead I ca-"

"No, no." he lets out a gentle laugh, and a thought passes by your head like a bullet train that you really like it. It's soft, it's melodic, it's sweet: taste of sweet potatoes coated in cloud sugar on your tongue. "I really like hearing you say my name. Say it more."

Your lips quirk up again, signaling a potential smile, but it's not fully realized. But your shoulders do drop in a more relaxed manner, and you flash him an ambivalent glance.

"Sure."

After using a spare hairpin in Eddie's pocket to pick the lock to the front office, you jump over the counter to slide over the surface and reach the phone behind the desk. Eddie makes a joke about how you'd make an excellent spy - to which you throw him a dirty glare and signal for him to shut up - before you make a phone call. To whom, he doesn't know. But it's clear that you care for this person, as your voice becomes lower and less agitated.

"Hey. Yeah, sorry for worrying you. I was staying late with my project partner for American History and then... we lost track of the time and now we're locked in. Do you think you could come over and get us?" you pause, Eddie supposes it's to allow the person on the other line to respond. "Alright. Sounds good. See you soon."

"Who'd you call?" he quizzes, curious as he helps you slide off the desk, allowing you to grasp at his shoulders to jump off securely. He chooses to ignore the way his skin tingles with electricity when your soft hands grip at his skin, heat wrapping around his upper body.

"My godfather. But it'll probably take another half an hour for him to arrive so we should probably camp out by the front doors till then."

There's a good five minutes of uninhibited silence after that as you two sit by the front entrance. You're sitting across from him leaning against the lockers: one leg straight, the other propped up by your chest as you rest your arms on your knee and twist your body to look out the window. Eddie's sitting a few inches away from you, legs crossed, toying with the rings on his fingers.

It's not a tense silence, but it is boring.

"I didn't know you had a godfather." Eddie decides to say, looking up at you cautiously. "That's cool."

"Cool, huh?" you quip, tearing your gaze away from the window. "Not many people think that. Most people think it's fucking weird that I live with my godfather instead of my biological parents."

"Well most people are assholes and idiots. Don't listen to them." he argues, lacing his fingers together.

"That's true." you agree, nodding ambivalently. "What about you? You and your uncle? You two live by the trailer park, right?"

Neither of you delve into too much personal information - the conversation's restrained to surface level things, before somehow melting into a heated discussion over music. It turns out that you're a huge music fan, front pocket of your bag overflowing with cassettes, notebooks crumpled by the weight of your walkman and headphones.

"Listen, I can appreciate a good Billy Joel song and all, but Black Sabbath is god." Eddie insists, uncrossing his legs and gesturing frantically with his hands.

"Oh, please, Eddie! You're just saying that because your exposure to Billy Joel has primarily been Uptown Girl. He has some serious deep cuts, like you can't tell me that you're able to listen to Vienna without getting emotional."

"Hey, you can get PLENTY emotional to Black Sabbath."

"Really?" you quip, poking him in the shoulder, forcing him to fall back down on his heels. You're fully smiling at this point, eyes light and wide, lips outstretched into an actual grin. He really likes this sight, he thinks. The light even seems to hit you differently when you smile - carving shadows down your jaw, glittering light kissing your hairline, halo around your hair.

"Really. Pinky promise." Eddie argues, poking his pinkie finger out at you. You stare down at him, fully amused, shaking your head sideways at his antics.

"I'm not gonna pinky promise you shit." you mock, crossing your arm.

"Aw, come on." he leans in teasingly, backing you up against the lockers. He doesn't realize it, but your breath hitches in your throat at the action, as it hits you that he's so close that you can count the individual freckles adorning his cheeks and smell the mixed scents of pine, fresh rain and weed emanating from his jacket.

You both break away from your respective positions at the sound of the front doors unlocking, with a very unimpressed look on Hopper's face as he links back the keys to his belt and raises his eyebrows at you.

"Are you sure it was the project that made you late and not being with your boyfriend?" he drawls, forefinger outstretched to gesture between the two of you. You stand up so quickly you practically stumble forward, stuttering your words - you're so mortified, you can't even look at Eddie.

"Jesus, dad, NO! He's just a friend."

"Friend, huh?" Eddie teases, elbowing you on the side, to which you elbow him back harder (making him groan out in slight pain). He watches as the police chief's blue eyes narrow in on his figure, dissecting him with a single glance, before returning to stare at you. It registers in his mind that Hopper's eyes soften when they land on you, a small grin appearing on his aged face.

"Alright then. Good to see you've made friends, (Y/n)." he comments. You roll your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Speaking of which, Eddie needs to get going. Right?" you rush out, practically shoving Eddie forward. Eddie nods awkwardly, shooting the older man a (what he hopes is) charming smile before winking at you.

"Right. Thank you, sir, for saving us. (Y/n), I'll see you next Tuesday for the final bits of the project?"

"Yeah, see you."

The moment you hop into the front seat of Hopper's truck, you can practically feel the intensity of the the rush of thoughts in your godfather's mind, his heavy gaze alternating between the road and your anxious figure shifting against the leather seats.

"So... this Eddie. Your friend, huh?" he starts out, quiet.

"Just drive, Hop, jesus." you say out loud, leaning your head against the window, rubbing your temples in a soothing manner as if to cure a headache.

"Not commenting on it, sweetheart. Just saying it's nice to see you open up and make friends."

"A friend, dad. One. Singular." you correct, to which he just waves off your comment with a blow through his lips.

"Still. Maybe this'll help you adjust a bit better. You have been adjusting alright, right?"

He pulls over into the driveway of his house, hands lingering over the steering wheel as he glances over at you worryingly. Hopper's always been a protective godfather, never intrusive but often keeping a close watch on you from the background. You don't blame him for worrying, considering the whiplash of a turn your life's taken in the past few months.

Leaving your parents in New York, packing two bags of clothes before hitchhiking across the country to come all the way down to Hawkins to live with your godfather. Your 'real' parents are practically dead to you, hence why you've chosen to call Hopper 'dad', and you consider El to be your real life little sister.

You figure you're already asking so much of him: to take you in as his non-biological daughter, to provide you a place to sleep and eat, to pay for your schooling as you catch up on two years of high school you took off in New York. All of this, combined, has led you to be less than transparent about how you've been adjusting at your new school.

In fact, Hopper wouldn't even know anything about how you don't really have friends if it hadn't been for Mike and his big mouth, and El's sweet concerns being expressed to Hopper.

"I'm doing okay, dad. Seriously." you assure him, patting down on his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

When your bedroom door finally closes behind you that night, it dawns on you as you're staring up at the ceiling - you've made a friend.

For the first time in a while, you fall asleep filled with joy and giddiness.

------------------------------------------

"Do you wanna come see my band play tonight?"

Eddie asks you on the final day of your project, closing your locker door for you, peering up at you with his doe like eyes. Your mind's been swimming with anxious thoughts all day - you're afraid that the only thing keeping your friendship afloat with Eddie is the project, which is due to be turned in today, and you're not sure what's going to happen once it's done.

So it's actually kind of a relief to have him beg you to see his band perform tonight, relief that you can't help but spill out into a small grin reflected on your lips.

"Corroded Coffin's playing tonight?"

"Yeah! And it's gonna be radical. Some of my other friends are gonna be attending too, so you won't have to show up alone."

"Aren't minors not allowed in seedy bars?" you tease. "Your friends are like, all freshman boys."

"Hey, I have friends that aren't Henderson or the other kids! Seriously, Steve and Robin are cool adults in their twenties and they will be there too."

"I don't think imaginary friends count." you continuously tease, walking away from him, as he follows right behind you.

"They're NOT imaginary! I swear, they're real people with real jobs and hobbies." Eddie pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. It's adorable, really, and you can't help but chuckle at his sad expression.

"Alright, alright, I'm joking! Sure, sounds good. When and where is it?"

"The downtown bar by the bookstore off the 45. Door's open at 7, but realistically we won't be playing till like 8.30 so feel free to come by then. I'll tell Steve and Robin to wait for you outside. They're cool, I promise."

You can't help but bite your bottom lip at that, anxiety gnawing at your chest.

"Are you sure? I just... I don't know if I'll get along with your friends, that's all. I mean, it took us like forever to be friends ourselves." you comment dryly.

"Pfft, you'll get along with them super well, don't worry! You're cool, they're cool, that's all you need."

All protests die in your mouth when he smiles at you like that, so you sigh and surrender to his demands.

"Alright, fine."

The bar's packed and loud, you think, flashes of yellow and red light emitting from the dingy entrance as you cross the road towards the establishment. There's already a line of people outside but there's two people in particular who stick out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd of black and edgy looks - a girl and a boy around your age, mid-playful argument.

The guy meets your gaze and then waves you over, soft smile on his lips. He's quite cute, you think - not your type, but there's an undeniable charm to him, wavy chestnut brown hair, soft features and slight muscle definition to his thighs and arms. The girl's grinning at you and she's also pretty, short brunette bob framing her lively face quite nicely.

They're also dressed more for the park than a metal concert, but you suppose you haven't done much better (throwing on just a t-shirt and jeans over a pair of sneakers).

"Hey! (Y/n), right?" Steve asks, as you nod in response, slightly intimidated at the presence of these new people.

You do vaguely remember Hopper mentioning a guy named Steve once over a phone call with Joyce, but other than that you don't know too much about him. But Steve seems really nice, welcoming you into the group instantly, gently pulling you towards the two of them and away from the rest of the hectic crowds.

"I'm Steve. Nice to meet you. And this is Robin, my best friend and eternal pain in the ass."

"Cap your ego, Harrington. Don't listen to him, besides, us girls have to stick together, right?" Robin quips, pulling you against her and winking at you. You can't help but giggle at that, what with the way Steve's face then scrunches up into a haughty frown.

It turns out that they're a delightful pair to be around. Robin's sarcastic, witty and funny, and her no-bullshit attitude and dry sense of humor pairs nicely with Steve's slightly egotistical, flirty and outgoing nature. And with a bit of alcohol dancing on the tip of your tongue, you find yourself loosening and completely comfortable by the time the band comes out to play.

The music is loud - so loud that it reverberates through your body, so loud that it feels like the whole building shakes with the booming of the speakers - but it's also delirious and addicting, jumping up and down in a sea of people to the ear-splitting music.

The three of you stay long past after the show's wrapped up, leaning against the counter of the open bar with dopey smiles on each of your faces.

"Holy shit, my dad's gonna be so mad that I'm this tipsy." you comment, leaning onto Robin's shoulders for support.

"Really?" she teases, amused.

"Seriously. And the fact that he's the police chief probably isn't going to do me much favours."

"Hopper's your father?" Steve asks, surprised. He remembers in the back of his mind Hopper mentioning that he's taken in another kid a while ago, but he hadn't pressed the older man for details.

"Godfather, actually, but he might as well be my dad. Considering I left my shitty biological parents in New York."

"To shitty parents." Robin announces, raising her glass of whiskey into the air. Steve and you clink your glasses with hers in agreement.

"To shitty parents."

"Looks like someone's had a lot of fun." Eddie comments from behind you the moment you down the shot, your head slow to catch up with his presence before it hits you all at once.

"Eddie!" you squeal out, dropping the glass onto the counter and spinning around to envelope him in a fierce hug. He's wholly unprepared to catch your embrace with the speed and force with which you wrap your arms around his waist, causing him to stumble backwards.

"You were amazing! Like seriously, your guitar solo was the best part of the whole night." you gush and Eddie's glad that the harsh lighting of the bar is able to mask the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Aw, thanks. Did Steve and Robin treat you alright?" he asks, looking up at his friends.

"More than alright, we nearly stole your girl." Steve teases, to which Eddie only scowls, waving away his friend's suggestive teasing.

"Alright, Harrington, keep it in your pants."

Robin and Steve continue to smirk at Eddie, making exaggerated lovesick expressions and throwing kisses at the two of you, none of which you're catching because your head is still buried against Eddie's chest. Eddie has to subtly - but fiercely - tell his friends to cut it out, gesturing with his hands and throwing nasty glares their way.

"Fuck, I really need to sober up though." you mumble, straightening up, stumbling ever so slightly on your feet.

"Yeah, and I'm beat. Wanna split a cab, Buckley?"

"Sure do, Steve. See you two kids around." Robin slyly adds, quickly exiting right after Steve to leave you alone with Eddie. It's clear what they're trying to do, but Eddie can't really bring it to himself to care when you tug at his sleeves, still tipsy and tired.

"Can we drive out somewhere cold and empty? If I go home now, Hopper's gonna be real mad about my alcohol consumption. Even if I'm over 18, that man is... protective."

Eddie chuckles, nodding, brushing away a stray strand of hair from your eyes.

"Alright then. Guess we're driving to the park."

On the way out to his car, his left hand resting on your back as he guides you into the front seat, Eddie meets Jason's eyes from across the road. The jock is leaning against his car, nursing a beer bottle in his right hand, whilst his group of friends rustle and joke around with each other by the gas tanks.

An unshakable feeling of disgust rises up in Eddie's throat, heart clenching at the way the blonde's eyes shift down at you, then on to Eddie's hand on your back, and how then a semi-impressed grin spreads on Jason's lips. The blonde ever so slightly nods at Eddie, as if confirming their bet, before returning to his conversation with his friends.

"Eddie?" you call out his name, breaking him out of his trance. "Everything alright?"

He's being paranoid, he tells himself. He hasn't even done anything yet, if anything, he's nowhere near "winning" the bet - you're just friends, that's all this is, leading you back to the car and helping you sober up by a park.

"Yeah. All good." Eddie forces out, faux grin and all. There's an odd bitter taste filling his lungs, but he breathes out slowly, reminding himself that he's not doing anything bad.

He's just a friend, taking another friend, to the park.

Sitting on the swing set, his fingers trail down the linked metal chains, small smile on his face as you childishly swing back at forth with your legs kicking out in front of you. It's your way of sobering up, you insist, and he can't complain - it's clearly making you very happy, the smile on your face permanent. It's a nice sight, a rare sight, one that he's keeping tucked in to the crevices of his mind for later.

"Be careful." Eddie chastises, watching you soar higher and higher towards the night sky. "I don't want you to break a bone or something. Think Hopper would be even more if you break a bone than if you show up a bit drunk."

Slowing down your movements, you scoff, but there's still a lazy smile on your face indicating that you're not really mad.

"I hate it when you're right." you mumble, drawing a loud laugh from Eddie's lips, head thrown back and all.

"I'm always right, (L/n)." he challenges, knocking his swing into yours.

"Sure, Munson. Except the times you're not. Which is almost every time."

"Almost."

Silence settles over the two of you again, the creaking of metal as you both lazily swing back and forth being the only sounds in the night, pale moon marking the shift into midnight. Eddie's fiddling with his rings absentmindedly, not really sure what to say or why he suddenly feels nervous sitting next to you, until you pick your head back up and speak.

"Thanks."

"For what?" he's confused and surprised.

"For inviting me. For letting me meet Steve and Robin, you're right, they're really cool. And like, I don't know. Thanks for being my friend, I guess." you look down immediately after finishing your sentence, hot embarrassment coursing through your veins, Eddie's soft stare too much to bare all at once on top of your heartfelt confession. The confession that tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, guilt pouring over him in waves.

"Yeah, so-"

"It's just crazy to me, you know?" you interrupt. "That you'd want to be friends with me. That anyone would want to be friends with me. I know I was a bitch when we first spoke. And uh, maybe I still kind of am. But you just... you're different, Eddie."

You pause for a tender moment, legs spreading as you shift your swing closer towards his, so that your knees are brushing against his and you can place a warm hand down onto his lap.

"I feel like you really see me. Not this whole 'ice queen' bullshit or whatever people are saying at school. The real me, the person behind all the walls and defences raised up. You kept on trying to get to know me even when I was pushing you away and being cruel to you. And it was thanks to that that we ended up becoming friends. So... yeah. Thank you, Eddie. Sincerely."

It's hard to shake off the shame now coating his lips, his skin burning and feeling sticky underneath your pure, innocent gaze and soft touch. He forces a smile, fingers uncurling from the metal chains of the swing to pat down on your warm hand, trying his best to maintain the neutrality of his voice.

"Y-yeah. No problem, I guess."

-------------------------------------------

Things shift after that night by the swing set.

Despite the history project having ended, he ends up seeing you even more regularly than before. It's because you end up taking a part-time job at Family Video after befriending Steve and Robin, and also because you start intermittently dropping by to watch his band pratcitce after school or swing by randomly to Hellfire Club sessions, at the insistence of El wanting to see Mike.

At this point, all of Eddie's friends know who you are. It was comedic at first, to see how Gareth nearly choked on his tongue and refused to make eye contact with you in your presence, and how all the freshman boys - Dustin, Mike and Lucas - pretended to be interested in a bunch of random sheet music thrown around the room to avoid having to look at you.

"Relax, kids, you can stare at her." Eddie had to say, laughing as he placed an arm around your shoulder. "Stop scaring them, (L/n)."

You just scowled at that, shrugging off his arm and sighing dramatically.

"I'm not trying to do that! It's just my reputation preceding me. I'm not as mean as I seem, I promise." you emphasized, turning to address the boys face to face. "I'm just here because Eddie promised to let me play for a 'taster' session of sorts."

"You're... joining Hellfire?" Dustin meekly asked, being the first out of the three to gain enough courage to look up at you. To his surprise, you didn't scowl or flip him off, if anything, you looked quite approachable and friendly standing next to Eddie, who was smiling at you with so much pride.

"Not sure if I'm necessarily joining, but... this meathead won't stop talking about this damn game so I wanted to see what all the hype was about."

The other boys loosened up after seeing how relaxed Eddie seemed to be around you, mock hurt on his face as he dramatically clutched his chest, stumbling backwards as if he'd been shot.

"You wound me with such harsh words! Now I can't promise that I'll go easy on you when we start playing."

"Why would that matter?"

"Duh, I'm the dungeon master, so everything you can do in the game is basically up to me. Or what you roll on the dice, but mainly up to me."

"That hardly seems fair." you commented, flashing the young boys a look of disbelief. "Is that really how this works?"

"Yeah, which is why we basically always have to gang up against him." Lucas replied, drawing a genuine laugh from your lips. It was the final straw to break the tension in the room, everyone loosening up and welcoming your new presence in the group.

"Sounds good, freshies. Us against Eddie, we can definitely take him." you winked at Eddie, rolling your shoulders forward. "Watch out, Eds."

It's late spring now, verging on summer. Eddie's lost count of the amount of time you two have spent together, be that in between periods at school (skipping classes together by the bleachers) or sneaking into the cinemas without paying on a tipsy game of truth or dare.

Eddie catches himself fully lost in your presence - watching your hair flip in the wind behind you whilst he drives with his window down, surveying how your delicate fingers toy with the fabric of your jacket when you're deep in concentration, counting your slow breaths as you lean against him in a darkened parking lot out of exhaustion - until the illusion is shattered for him by way of remembrance.

It's a bet.

But it doesn't matter, not really, he'd always tell himself. You two are still friends. And Eddie's not forcing it, being friends with you is natural, spending time with you is something he genuinely wants.

It's a hollow way of consoling himself, but it's the only way he's able to justify continuning to hang out with you and to slyly avoid Jason or his stupid best friends' constant pestering about how the bet is going.

"We're still just friends, Carver." Eddie gritted through his teeth, skillfully stepping past the blonde to get to his van. Jason didn't seem to like that response, one hand reaching out to grab at his wrist and yank him backwards.

"Listen, freak. I'm impressed, not gonna lie, that you even managed to become friends with her. But the bet was over dating her and getting her to go to prom. It's now, what, end of April?" the jock chuckled, tapping his two front fingers against the expensive watch around his wrist. "Time's running out. That said, I lose absolutely nothing if you lose the bet so actually-"

The blonde pulled away, victorious grin on his pink lips. He looked like a coy predator playing with his prey, smug cruelty rolling off of him in waves.

"Yeah, don't make a move. I'd love to win this bet."

Looking down at where Jason's filthy hand was wrapped around his wrist, Eddie roughly shook off the basketball player's grasp, glare fuelled by the heat of a thousand suns.

"I'm going to win the bet, Carver. Don't get too cocky."

"Did you see what Nate did yesterday?" you question him in the present. Eddie's lying down on the carpeted floor of your bedroom next to you, legs bent in a 45 degree angle, hands supporting the back of his head. You're lying down with your feet propped up on your bed, your eyes meeting his in a sly manner.

"Not really, why? What'd he do this time?"

"He tried doing a backflip during the lunch period and broke his left wrist. Cried like a little bitch about it, too."

The image of the tall, overconfident jock wailing like a child makes Eddie snort.

"That's hilarious."

"It's what he deserves too. He's a total creep." you shudder, remembering how he tried to hit on you on your first day of school. "Though, he did cry a bit more when I sprained his fingers because he tried to grab my ass on my first day."

"He did what?"

"Yeah, I know. Real fucking creep. Don't know why he bothered, either, the jeans I was wearing that day were super ugly."

"I highly doubt that." the comment slips out of Eddie's mouth unconsciously, piquing your curiosity enough for you to shift your body to the side to stare at him with confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

"Oh! Just like..." Eddie scratches his neck, avoiding your gaze. "I highly doubt that the jeans you were wearing were ugly. Just like, I don't think anything you could wear could be ugly."

You sit up at that, legs crossing underneath.

"You calling me pretty?"

"Well, uh-" he stumbles over his words, cheeks flushing vibrant pink as he begins to rattle off in an incoherent manner. "Yeah, I mean I always thought that but yeah you are. Objectively speaking. But also like I think you're pretty, is it hot in here suddenly or-" his hands fly up to the collar of his hellfire club shirt, pulling at the sides as if to let in cool air.

"Are you serious?" you sound shocked, in disbelief, which only confuses Eddie in return.

"Of course I am. Why... would I lie about that?"

You shrug, bringing a juice box to your lips.

"Figured if you thought I was pretty we wouldn't still be friends. That's a compliment you give to someone who's attracted to you, not someone who's just your friend."

"Oh." Eddie then comments, pausing ever so slightly. "Who says I'm not attracted to you?"

His daring question lingers in the air for a few baited breaths, the atmosphere in the room shifting in the microseconds it takes for that sentence to leave his lips and for him to suddenly shift closer to you.

"... I'm attracted to you too." you choke on your words, it barely being a whisper, but Eddie catches it nonetheless. His left hand comes to rest on your cheek, eyes staring right into yours that you think he must be able to see through your soul.

"Can I kiss you?"

You don't think you can speak. You're left to nod quietly, hoping that it's enough. And it is. The force with which he kisses you - he blames it on the months and months of pent up adoration - backs you up against your bed, your legs falling backwards as your back meets the soft mattress. He practically crawls on top of your lap, kiss messy and deep, strands of curly hair clouding your hazy vision.

When it's done, fresh air filling your lungs instead of the intoxicating scent of Eddie, muted taste of beer and mint chapstick dancing on your lips, you two stare at each other with wide eyes before bursting into a fit of nervous laughter.

"So... what now?" you question lightly, hands still gripping his forearms.

"Let's go on a date? Arcade after school on Friday?" he suggests.

"We already do that every week, doofus."

"I know, but this time it'll be different. I'll hold your hand and buy you dinner afterwards."

You pretend to think about it, humming quietly before nodding with a wide smile.

"Deal."

You fall asleep in his embrace that night, face squished against his upper chest, body rising and falling alongside your slow breaths. But Eddie can't sleep. The euphoria he's feeling is underlined with sickening guilt, a gnawing clawing sensation in his stomach, a harsh whisper in the back of his mind that none of this is real.

He's lying to you.

But what he feels for you isn't a lie, he reasons, so it's fine. He's driving himself insane with these internal arguments, subconsciously pulling your sleeping figure closer towards himself as his fingers clutch onto your waist tighter.

Burying his head into your hair, inhaling deeply, he attempts to quiet his thoughts. It'll all be over soon. Graduation is looming. He's just got one more part of the bargain to hold up - asking you to prom. It'll be over soon, it won't get worse....

Right?

------------------------------------------

"I'm really glad she's dating you."

Hopper comments two months later, looking over from the driver seat of his truck as Eddie jumps up straight upon being addressed by your godfather. The two men have spent countless times together - whether it be Eddie lounging on the couch in the living room whilst waiting for you or Hopper knocking on Eddie's trailer door to ask why you still haven't come home - but it never stops Eddie from getting a bit nervous around him.

He wants to make a good impression on the police chief for numerous reasons, but above all, because he's your father. Your only parent at this point. So even if it's something as casual as hitching a ride from Hopper the day Gareth had to borrow his van, Eddie's still a bit on edge when he's sitting in the passenger seat next to Hopper.

Upon seeing the younger man's eyes widen in surprise, Hopper chuckles, the sound a low rich baritone.

"Have to admit, the day I picked her up from school that day you two kids got yourselves locked inside and she called you her new friend... I felt that there was something more to that word. Friend. And despite your, um, questionable activities-"

Eddie flushes with embarrassment at that.

"You've always been good to her. And it's doing her wonders, I can tell. She went from this isolated, broken shell of a person to... Someone with friends her age. A job. Someone who smiles and laughs and says yes to spontaneous plans. I know it's not all you but you've been a big part of that so thank you." Hopper grumbles out, coughing awkwardly, not used to such heartfelt confessions. It makes Eddie feel even worse, almost making him want to sink into his seat.

"It's no big deal." Eddie forces out, voice strained and almost breaking because he's choking on recurrent waves of shame, guilt twisting like sharp veins around his chest and squeezing his heart. His mind is still foggy and reeling from the guilt when the truck finally pulls up by his trailer, and you come barreling from the inside of his trailer to hug Eddie.

"Didn't know you'd be here." Hopper comments, crossing his arms. You roll your eyes.

"I think I'm allowed to come over to visit my boyfriend, dad."

"Mmhmm, just make sure you're home by eleven."

"Midnight."

"Ten thirty."

"Eleven thirty."

Hopper pretends to be annoyed, sighing deeply, but he still smiles and ruffles your hair before leaving.

"Fine. See you then, kiddo."

Your legs thrown over his lap half-hazardously, Eddie can't really focus on the VHS tape you've generously 'rented' from your workplace - "Please, as if I'll get in trouble. The only employees are me, Robin and Steve and our boss basically never comes by." - as another character gets gruesomely killed on the screen.

"You're not watching the movie." you complain half-way through the movie, putting down the popcorn bowl to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. He only smiles in response, shaking his head sideways, symmetrical face framed by his long curls.

"Can't focus. You're too pretty." he offers, and you chuckle at that, his whining tone and pleading eyes melting your heart. You clamber on top of him, legs caging his body in between your thighs, as your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

"Aw.... Thanks, babe. But you really don't have to tell me that every day."

"I'd tell you that you're pretty every day just to see you smile like that." he admits softly, boyish grin on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes. You open your mouth to respond with a sassy comment when someone knocks on the door loudly, accompanied by a furious set of even louder knocks.

It's your sister, El, jumping up and down anxiously before her eyes fall upon your familiar figure.

"El, what's wrong?" you question immediately, climbing off of the couch and rushing to cradle your younger sister's face in your hands. She doesn't look physically harmed nor does she look particularly upset, just anxious to see you.

"I'm bored and Mike canceled on me last minute." she complains, stretching her arms out over her head. "I heard from dad that you were here and I wondered if we could like... hang out. We don't have to, if I'm intruding I can-"

You look at Eddie with a pleading gaze, but you honestly don't even need to convince him, as he's already fluffing up the pillows and shaking off the popcorn crumbs from the blanket strewn over the sofa.

"Nonsense, nonsense! You're totally welcome to join us. Just be careful with your sister - sometimes she screams really loudly at the jump scares." your boyfriend teases, winking at you. El giggles at that and you send the metalhead a harsh glare.

"I do not."

"You totally do, babe. But it's okay, I still find you hot."

"Is there popcorn left?" your younger sister then questions, wiggling out of your grasp to stare at the television with eyes full of wonder.

"I'll make more, why don't you two get comfortable." you quickly suggest, knowing Eddie's kitchen like the back of your hand. You take the quiet moments which follow to admire how Eddie interacts with El, your vision only slightly obscured from behind the counter.

El's rattling off about something you don't really understand but Eddie seems totally entraced by her, delighted smile and eager nodding, gently encouraging your younger sister to continue her story whenever she gets nervous that she's talking too much. Your sister looks wholly relaxed in his presence, shoulders lax and fingers thrumming gently against a cushion she's holding against her stomach.

When he makes a dumb joke and El laughs, the warmth blossoming in your chest worsens. You feel lightheaded, stomach filled with love, eyes glazed over in pink hue. You almost drop the popcorn packets on the floor when you realize what this is.

Love.

You love Eddie.

You're not surprised, concealing the smile on your face as you turn away and pop the paper packet into the microwave. Eddie's your first real boyfriend. First friend turned lover, first friend in Hawkins, the person who introduced you to your new group of friends - Steve, Robin, and now Nancy and Jonathan as they swing by Family Video ever so often.

It was inevitable then that you'd fall in love with Eddie.

It's all you can think about for the rest of the night, in between stupid jokes thrown in by Eddie and comments of awe and shock muttered by El in between mouthfuls of popcorn, until she's practically falling asleep on your lap. Checking your watch, you realize that it's nearly 11:30 anyways, so you'd better get home.

"Do you think you could drive us back?" you question quietly, whispering as you gesture to El's sleeping figure. Eddie nods, turning off the television and gently pocketing his car keys as you lightly shake your sister awake and strap her into the backseat. She mumbles incoherently, asking sleepily where you two are going, to which you only shush her and assure her that Eddie's just driving you two home.

The conversation in the car is light and spare - it's late at night, El's still sleeping in the backseat, and unbeknownst to each other, you both have a lot on your minds.

Eddie's fixated on how much he likes you, how much he's scared of losing you and how it's almost been two months of dating you. You're transfixed on the realization that you love Eddie, the tall metalhead who loves his guitar and D&D, the boy with copious jean jackets and an oddly obnoxious charm that broke down your walls brick by brick. The constant wondering if he feels the same, the worries that you're overthinking it, layered with the euphoric rush of adoration and infatuation makes you almost sick with joy.

When the familiar outline of your house comes into view, Eddie piggybacks El into your house as you open up the front door for him, allowing him to gently tuck your sister into bed before you close the door. You accompany Eddie back out to the driveway, fingers anxiously twitching by your sides as the confession sits on the tip of your tongue. It's burning your mouth to keep it in, heart beating at a million miles per minute.

"What's on your mind, princess?" he gently asks you, the sour expression on your face giving you away in a moment's notice that you're clearly deep in thought. But nothing could've prepared him for what you said next.

"I love you." you blurt out. "I actually, wholly, undoubtedly love you."

Eddie freezes at that, grin falling ever so slightly, eyes wide and unblinking. You take it as a bad sign, fumbling over your words desperately as you try to salvage the situation.

"I-I know that might be kind of quick because we've only been dating for two months, but if you think about it we've been friends for almost like three quarters of a year, so it's not-"

"No, no." your boyfriend quickly reassures you, hand cupping your chin to stop your talking and to focus your attention on him. You realize that up close, you can better make out his features in the dark: he's smiling brightly, eyes fawning and voice gentle. "It's not quick. I realized I loved you many weeks ago. Was just waiting for you to catch up." Eddie adds, winking at you.

You laugh at that, nodding eagerly, tension dissipating from the night air in an instant. The boy then kisses you gently under the pale moonlight, his tongue slipping in to trace your bottom lip when you moan out in surprise, the strength and passion with which he presses into your mouth catching you off guard.

Eddie's kissed you a million times at this point, but this time it feels different to you. It feels like a million unsaid "i love you"s wrapped into one, delicate touch burning golden tattoos alongside your skin as his hand dances up your waist, pleasant melodies ringing in your ears even when you pull away to catch your breath.

"So... you love me and I love you, I guess." you breathe out into the cold air, affirming reality for yourself by speaking out loud.

"Yeah." Eddie replies, licking his lips to chase the aftertaste of your cherry lipgloss.

"Two people in love. How romantic." you joke, smiling.

Eddie doesn't respond to that, only pressing another shaky kiss to your lips before bidding you goodnight, his knuckles turning white with the strength with which he grips the steering wheel on his drive back. His anxiety has snowballed past its tipping point, his head a toxic warzone of jumbled thoughts, nauseous feeling causing bile to rise up to his throat that Eddie needs to pull over to the side mid-drive.

His heart feels like it's being crushed.

He can't stand it anymore - the lying, the secrets, the way you look at him like he's the only thing that matters in this cruel world. And now, it's undeniable. The truth is staring him right in the face.

You said you loved him.

And fuck, he loves you.

It's gone too far. He's fallen too deep. He's sinking into a bottomless pit and he's dragging you down with him.

And for what? Eddie bitterly ponders, smashing his hands down onto the steering wheel with anger. A stupid bet with a jock?

He needs to call it off.

He makes a beeline to the locker room the next morning, frantically tearing through the school hallways in search of Jason. Unfortunately, the best he can do is to run into Oliver and Nate post-shower, flicking each other with wet towels before Eddie coughs and demands their attention.

"Where's Jason?"

"Pissed off the coach so he's doing another lap. Why, backing out of your bet like a pussy?" Nate teases, drawing a howling laugh from Oliver. Not that Eddie cares. It just frustrates him because first period starts in a few minutes and if he's late one more time for chemistry, he knows it's another detention slip being put into his hands.

"Just tell Carver to meet me by the bleachers during lunch. It's important. And yes, it's about the bet."

Eddie thanks god that you don't share any classes with him today. He doesn't think he could stomach it, looking into your innocent eyes and letting you kiss and hold him softly when he doesn't deserve your love.

He feels as if he's in a trance the whole day, going through the motions of life, eyes empty and mind buzzing with static as he nods along to one lecture after another.

The only thing to jolt him awake is when, in between his second and third period, he hears a familiar set of voices whispering from inside the janitor's closet. It's Dustin, Mike and Lucas, with Dustin clearly pained and tired whilst the other two boys whisper frantically amongst themselves.

Privacy be damned, Eddie opens the door and flicks on the light, jaw clenching with anger the moment the small space is enveloped in bright light and he sees the shiny black bruise blossoming on Dustin's forehead.

"What the hell happened?" Eddie quickly questions, closing the door quietly behind him. He's far too tall for the enclosed space, head awkwardly brushing up against the ceiling, his limbs stretching into mops and cleaning supplies, but he can't give a shit. His veins are coursing with anger, worry tightening his chest as he surveys the extent of Dustin's injuries - the curly haired boy only sighing and refusing to meet the senior's gaze.

"Jason Carver happened to him." Lucas cuts in, voice also tense and angry.

"We were hanging out by the entrance and Dustin decided to stand up to Jason and his teammates for bullying us and, well.. he didn't like Dustin's smart mouth." Mike comments quietly.

"So what, that bastard punched you?!" Eddie exclaims, hysterical.

"He didn't punch me, relax. He just knocked me up against the wall and I happened to slam my head against a brick out of place."

"A BRICK?" Eddie screams, causing all of them to cringe at the sudden loud noise. "Shit, Henderson, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, seriously! I mean, just another Monday, right?" Dustin tries to joke, flashing the older boy a reassuring grin. But it does little to quiet Eddie's fury and guilt, not being able to protect his fellow Hellfire Club members in their time of need.

Lunch time rolls around achingly slow, Eddie munching on his homemade sandwich quickly whilst waiting for Jason to show up by the bleachers. The blonde makes his appearance a full ten minutes into lunch, striding across the green fields in large steps with a scowl on his face.

"What's so important you had to cut into my lunch time, huh?" he growls, clearly annoyed.

"I'm calling the bet off."

"Huh?"

"The bet. I'm fucking over it. I don't care about the money. You win, okay? Now let me out."

Eddie attempts to shove past the blonde but it's like walking into a brick wall, Jason's left hand flying up to Eddie's chest to stop him from walking away before shoving him backwards.

"You're backing out now? When prom's just around the corner and you've already got that bitch riding your dick? I'm surprised, freak." he cruelly comments, cocking his head to the side in fake interest.

"Yeah, I'm out. Now let me go."

"I'm just surprised, that's all. Thought you'd stick by the bet, especially with what happened to that twerp this morning. What's his name, Justin?"

"It's Dustin." Eddie grits, fists clenching by his sides.

"Yeah, whatever. You want to give up the money we bet on, cool, whatever. But a part of our deal was that I'd - along with my friends - lay off of your band of freaks. If you want to call off the bet, that offer is also taken off the table."

Jason's words hang in the air, metaphorical black smoke filling Eddie's lungs and restricting his airways. He feels like he can't breathe, hands clawing at his skin, heart beating at a million miles per minute whilst he mulls over the blonde's words.

All he can focus on is the panicked and scared looks on Lucas and Mike's faces, and the shiny bruise on Dustin's forehead. And Eddie's being given the choice for them to not be bullied for the rest of the whole year, to finally not be terrorized every time they walk into school.

"Still want to call off the bet?" Jason mocks, extending a hand forward. "Shake my hand and it's over."

Eddie stares at the blonde's outstretched hand in silence.

He doesn't shake it.

-----------------------------------------

You can barely sit still, the low humming of Billy Joel flowing from your record player barely settling your nerves as you shift back and forth between your bed and the full length mirror in your room, criticizing every stray hem of your dress. There's a quiet set of knocks against your door and you yell out that you're not ready yet, expecting it to be Hopper.

"It's me!" El announces. "I can help you get dressed, if that's okay?"

Dropping your dress onto your bed, you open the door with a large smile, the excited and eager expression on your younger sister's face too sweet to reject. She sits on your bed with her legs dangling off, watching as you hold up different fabrics up to your chest and ask for her approval. After a several tries and pleas for you to "spin around", you two settle on a nice baby blue doll dress with a sweetheart neckline.

"Can I try doing your mascara?" El then asks quietly, pointing to the mess of makeup littered on your vanity. You laugh, nodding, closing your eyes quietly as her shaky hands attempt to carefully brush through your lashes with the wand. To your delighted surprise, she's a master at it, even going so far as to blend out your eyeshadow perfectly when you hand over your brushes to her.

"What shoes are you wearing?" she asks immediately after that, practically bouncing with excitement.

"I'm starting to think you're more excited about me going to prom than I am, El." you tease, opening your closet and pulling out a pair of sparkly white heels.

"Oh, I can't help it!" she gushes. "It's like all the romantic movies I watched, they always end with the girl and the boy going to prom. It's so romantic." she dreamily sighs, landing on your bed with her back on the mattress.

"Does that make me the protagonist?" you joke, strapping on your heels as you lean down towards your feet.

"Duh. And it makes Eddie your love interest."

"Very handsome, very charming, love interest, I'd like to add." Eddie suddenly cuts in, standing behind your door with a smug smile on his face. It fades into a soft, adoring grin when he sees you in your dress, dolled up and pretty yet still so naturally you. He hopes you can't tell that he loses his cool at the sight, voice slightly strained and tips of his ears flushing pink. "You look absolutely gorgeous, princess."

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." you comment, throwing him a flirtatious wink. It's no lie, he cleans up well - the suit is a little awkward on him in some places, but the clean cut look makes his jaw stand out more, lean muscle straining the fabric perfectly.

"Shall we get going, my dear love interest?" you joke, offering one arm forward. El scrambles off your bed to hold open the door for you as Eddie wraps one of his arms around yours, nodding.

"We shall." he puts on a horrible posh accent, making you laugh at his antics. Hopper asks - no, practically demands - to sneak in a couple polaroids of you two together before you're burning with embarrassment and desperately shoving Eddie out the door, calling out to your father that you'd be back by midnight.

By the time the two of you pull up to the gymnasium, the party's already started. You're buzzing with anticipation and nerves when Eddie gently helps you hop off of his van, eyes burning with so much adoration that you can't even meet his gaze without melting.

"Bet you that the punch is gonna suck." he whispers into your ear, the flashing lights overhead blinding your eyes ever so slightly.

"Meh, that's why I did this."

You hike up the skirt of your dress to reveal a bottle of vodka strapped to your thigh, Eddie watching in awe as you twist off the red metal cap and pour him a shot into a red solo cup.

"God, I fucking love you." he moans, practically whining it against your lips. You smirk.

"I know."

Eddie's not thinking of anything but how beautiful you look - so carefree, hands thrown up in the air, bubbly laughter erupting from your throat when he dips you or tugs you towards the food stand - that he doesn't even register Jason and his boys' persistent gazes throughout the night. It's only when you declare that you need some fresh air that he's broken out of his lovesick trance, his jacket finding home on your shoulders as you two lean against the wall of the school building.

"Having too much fun?" Eddie teases, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"Definitely. That, and the three shots of vodka and all the pizza grease is melting my brain."

"Ditto."

Eddie's shoulders tense when he hears sets of footsteps approach, accompanied by the drunken yellings of Jason and his friends. Hands flying to your waist, he pulls you upwards, unreadable expression on his face.

"Let's go back inside." Eddie suddenly hurries out, clearly panicked. You frown, confused.

"We literally just came outside."

"I-I know, but uh, let's go-"

"MUNSON!!!!! There's the man of the hour." Oliver screams, cupping his hands together to amplify his voice across the parking lot. Eddie freezes in place, trapped, as you scowl and cross your arms over your chest.

"Piss off, asshole." you bark back, stepping in front of Eddie protectively.

"Oh, got your little bitch fighting your fights now, impressive. You trained her well, freak." Nate drawls, practically tripping over his words with how drunk he is. Eddie can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, panic settling in.

"Don't talk about her like that." he manages to choke out, standing up on shaky legs. But he falters under Jason's gaze, green with envy and red hot with anger, as the blonde steps forward in front of his friends.

"Come on, freak, you can drop the act now. You've won the bet, fair and square."

"What bet?" you stumble backwards in shock, frantic eyes flying to Eddie, who is now suddenly refusing to meet your gaze. "Eddie, what's going on?"

"Ah right, of course little miss ice queen would be confused! Let me break it down for you, sweetheart." Jason practically shouts, clapping his hands together with a gleeful smile. "Back in December, your little boyfriend and I waged a bet. This loser thought he could do a better job asking out girls than me, so I said that if he could get your prissy ass to say yes to a date and to prom, he'd win."

"What?"

Eddie doesn't have the courage to look at you. He's sparing himself the trouble of having to see the crestfallen look on your face, of having to actually see for himself the way your hopes come crashing down into a pile of rubble, to be standing in the aftermath of his destruction.

"We're all impressed that he managed to succeed." the blonde jokes, his two friends eagerly nodding from the back. "Guess we underestimated your abilities, freak." Jason reaches forward and punches Eddie in the shoulder, knocking him back against the wall.

"(Y/n), I can explain-" Eddie starts out lowly, but you're not willing to hear any of it. He can see it in your eyes: in a moment's notice, you've pulled back up all your defences, warmth and kindness disappearing behind your walls as your voice drips with venom.

"Fuck off, Munson."

The laughter of the basketball players continuously rings in Eddie's ears as he chases after you, desperately trying to catch up to you as you run across the parking lot.

"Please, just hear me out-"

"NO." you announce firmly, spinning on your heels and staring up at him with burning hatred. You've never stared at him with anything other than fondness and warmth the past few months. It's then gut wrenching that the fury with which you're glaring at him now - the lack of any kind of kindness or playfulness in your eyes - is unprecedented.

"You know, I knew this was too good to be true." you start, voice shaky. "God, you have no idea how many fucking times I found myself thinking throughout the course of our relationship - no, even when we were just fucking friends - that I didn't deserve this. That there was a reason no one wanted to be my friend. But I was a fucking idiot, because-"

You choke on your words, a sob hanging by the edge of your lips, but you bitterly swallow it down. You'd be damned if Eddie gets your tears on top of everything else.

"Because I thought this was my reward. I was thinking, finally, after all these years of suffering, I could get something nice. New friends, new family, a boy who liked me for who I was... But I realize now that I was nothing more than a joke to you. A sleazy bet with the sleaziest douchebags in school."

"(Y/n)-" Eddie tries again, he can feel you slipping through his fingers and it's breaking him, heart aching to just have you in his arms again. But all you do is shake your head sideways, gritting your teeth as you shrug off his jacket and throw the fabric against his chest.

"Don't fucking talk to me again. If you even so much as look at me, I'll ask Hopper to step in."

"At least let me drive you home." he quietly mutters. "You don't even have a car."

"Save it. I'll take the bus."

Eddie stands there staring at his jacket in his hands, your perfume still lingering in the fabric as he watches hopelessly you walk away into the dark woods.

"Fuck." he breathes out, tears stinging his eyes.

He's fucked up. Really, really badly.

------------------------------------

Steve and Robin both glare daggers into Eddie's back as he shuffles through the aisles of Family Video, both of them pretending to be busy when he'd first entered the store and muttered a quiet "hello." They're pissed at him, for good reason, of course, but it's awkward to know that his friends (who are also your friends) have all turned on him.

It's even more awkward having to make excuses as to why you're no longer showing up to band practice or to D&D sessions to the oblivious freshman and his other friends like Jeff and Gareth, who always looked forward to your sarcastic comments and humorous quips to pass the time.

"Just this, please." Eddie says, throwing a VHS tape of Evil Dead onto the counter. Both Steve and Robin stare down at the tape, then at Eddie, before resuming their conversation behind the counter as if they've never seen him. Eddie rolls his eyes, suppressing a deep sigh.

"Come on guys, this is childish. This isn't even for me, this is for Gareth."

"Then why didn't he come here and rent it himself?" Robin interrogates, tone harsh and dry.

"Got held up doing house chores by his mom. Just scan this damn thing, I'll pay, and I'll be right out of your eyesight, okay?" Eddie's practically pleading at this point and Robin sends Steve a knowing look, forcing the other boy to jump off of his seat and begin to mindlessly scan the tape.

"That'll be $2.50."

In between the painfully awkward and silent transaction, Eddie's looking at everywhere but his friends' faces. Their silent frustration, disapproval and disappointment is too heavy to bear, alongside the heavy guilt and crushing depression he's been experiencing the past two weeks since prom.

"Why'd you do it?" Steve blurts out mid-handing off the tape to Eddie, causing Robin to slap her best friend across the shoulder for his outburst.

"What?"

"I just, I don't get it. It doesn't make sense. I saw - we both saw -" Steve gestures to Robin, sending her a warning glare. "How you looked at (Y/n). How you spoke about her. How much you loved her. What'd you even bet for?"

Pocketing the tape into his back pocket, Eddie sighs slowly, contemplating whether or not to tell them the truth. But hell, he's got nothing to lose at this point, he figures.

"Happened over a weed dealing. I was just talking shit, really, because Jason's ego was bruised after being rejected by (Y/n). We bet over me being able to successfully ask her out to a date and then to prom. If I won, the conditions were that Jason would buy for double - and I knew that Wayne was tight on money, and the trailer's been long overdue for a fix. And he also, uh... said if I won the bet, he'd stop bothering me and my friends."

Eddie doesn't notice it, because he's staring down at his hands whilst rambling, but Steve and Robin exchange a sympathetic glance as Eddie continues to pour his heart out.

"I tried pulling out a million times. But for one reason or another, I could never do it. I was a coward, don't get me wrong, but... when she told me she loved me, I knew it'd gone too far. I was so intently committed to breaking the bet off, consequences and money be damned, but then I saw Henderson had a bruise on his face from Jason roughing him up." Eddie swallows nervously, throat feeling prickly and dry. "I couldn't back out of it then. I didn't want any of the kids to get more hurt when I could prevent it."

"Oh, Eddie..." Robin says quietly, placing a warm hand on his arm. He only shakes her off though, forced grin pulling his lips apart.

"It's whatever. Point is, regardless of good intentions or bad circumstances, I was a fucking coward. And a liar. And an asshole. I broke her heart and I deserve all the bad things in the world for that."

"Does she know any of this?" Steve presses, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"No. I haven't spoken to her since prom. Never even so much as drove past her home. Pretty sure Hopper would shoot my tires flat if I tried, anyways." Eddie weakly jokes.

"You should tell her. If not for you, than for her. She deserves to know the truth."

The metalhead only sighs at that, shaking his head lightly in denial.

"She already knows the truth, Steve."

"Not the bet, but the reasons behind the bet. Your feelings through out the whole thing. How you tried to pull out but you couldn't. I mean the whole truth, Eddie." Steve insists, unwavering.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with this loser." Robin dryly comments, flicking Steve's forehead. Steve scowls at that, sending the brunette girl a playful glare before turning around to stare at Eddie.

"Seriously. Let her know the truth. It'll both do you good."

"If I were you though, I'd bring chocolates as a peace offering or something, because I did hear that Hopper got a new rifle last week." Robin adds, swinging her legs off the counter as Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Gee, thanks, Buckley."

"Don't sweat it, Munson."

"....Thanks." Eddie quietly whispers, genuinely touched by his friends' advice. Their words continue to replay in his mind like a broken record on his drive back home and out of the corner of his eyes, Eddie continues to see a phantom outline of you. Sitting next to him, singing from the driver's seat, hair being ruffled from the open window.

You're still haunting him, he still can't stop thinking about you. Mulling it over, he realizes that the least he can do is to try. Try and talk to you, to iron things out.

He just hopes you're willing to listen.

---------------------------------------

Eddie doesn't think he's ever felt this nervous before.

Standing by your front porch, throwing small pebbles at your bedroom window late at night, hoping that you notice the odd sounds and look outside. It's weird - a part of him is screaming at him to run away, that this was a mistake and that he should run into his van and drive home right now. But there's another part of him, one which is stronger and louder, reminding him that he has to explain himself to you.

He sees you lean out your window with a confused expression on your face, eyes scanning the night sky and trees before landing on his figure. You roll your eyes and slam your window shut, forcing him to escalate his plan.

The next time Eddie's knocking on your window he's precariously balancing on the slippery roof tiles, gripping onto your windowsill for dear life and hoping you have enough mercy in your heart to let him in. You're still scowling when you open your window back up, but this time there's a hint of care and worry in your eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing? You got a death wish, Munson?" you hiss, careful to not wake anyone else in the house.

"Well you weren't going to let me in the normal way, so I had to do the next best thing." he weakly offers, fingers turning white. "Are you going to let me in so I don't die, then?"

You click your tongue, swearing under your breath.

"Just because I don't want to attend your fucking funeral." you warn, stepping back and letting him climb in through your window. He practically falls onto the floor face first, limbs awkwardly tumbling forward, his left arm catching his fall ever so slightly in an effort to save the bouquet of flowers and chocolate from getting crushed.

"H-here." he shakily offers them by thrusting the items into your hands, which you cautiously take before throwing it behind you on the bed.

"Thanks. You can leave now."

"Wait, wait, wait-" he rushes to block off your access to the door before you can push him out the bedroom, making you stomp your feet in frustration.

"What, Eddie? I'm fucking tired, it's a Wednesday night, for fuck's sake."

"I know you don't want to talk to me. But it's fucking killing me that you don't even know the whole story. Please, hear me, out. Just five minutes, and if you still want me to leave, I... I will."

You should be laughing at his face. You should be your usual coldhearted self, uncaring smirk lacing your lips as you shove him out the front door and throw the flowers and chocolate back onto his chest. But you can't find it in yourself to do so.

Damn Eddie Munson and his handsome face, you think. You also can't deny the lingering affection you hold for him, and fuck... you have missed him. Greatly. The amount of times you've cried in the past two weeks is a testament to that.

The worst harm's already been done, you think. Might as well hear him out.

"Fine. You've got five minutes." you say, and you can see his face light up visibly with joy and relief.

"Thank you. The bet, listen, it... it happened during a drug deal. Jason was pissed that you'd rejected him and I was just trying to push his bottoms and toy with his fragile ego by boasting that I could probably be better with girls than him. He knew that I was having money issues and the trailer needed to be fixed, so he cut me a deal. If I got you to say yes to a date, then he'd start paying double for our weed dealings." Eddie rushes out, speaking so fast that he has to catch a deep breath in between.

"Then I added I wanted him to stop bothering me and my friends at school. Especially now that I got the freshman kids to look out for, I just wanted his word that he'd stop bothering them all. In return for that, however, it was additionally agreed that I'd also have to get you to say yes to prom."

"That's... oddly sweet of you. Kind of." you mutter, thoughts running a million miles per hour at the revelation. You figured that the bet was just a joke to exploit you. Not something Eddie agreed to in an effort to protect his uncle and his friends.

"It's really not, because I hurt you. I knew from the beginning that this was wrong. I had this persistent, sick, stabbing sensation in my stomach all throughout our friendship that this was wrong. I tried to lie to myself that I hadn't done anything bad yet, because we hadn't even started dating, but I knew it was only a matter of time before we became real. And once that happened, I..." he chuckles sadly, gaze lowering to the floor.

"I liked the illusion of us together too much to pull back. The bet was always lingering in the back of my mind, sure. But I liked you too much. I love you too much. So I ignored it. Even if it was fake, it felt real whenever I got to hold you and kiss you."

He runs a quick hand through his hair before resuming.

"And then the night that you told me you loved me, I panicked. It was like I was finally awake, like icy cold water had been dumped over my head and I saw what a fucked up mess I'd gotten us into. I told Jason the next day that the bet was off, but... he held the end deal of our bargain over my head. The part about no longer bullying my friends. And Dustin had gotten a black eye that morning from a rough altercation with Jason and I... I didn't end up backing out of the deal because of that. But I tried to get out. God, I tried many, many times. Maybe not as strongly as I should've, but there were numerous times where I tried to get out of the deal." Eddie affirms, pleading.

"So... all of that. All the lying, all the secrets, all the play pretend... was it worth it?" you whisper out loud, hands clutching at your sides as you hug yourself and look up at him.

"Yes." Eddie responds automatically, confident. "Because it meant I got to have you. And I never faked my feelings for you. Not even once. That was all, always, genuine."

You're left to stare at him in silence, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you reflect over his words, Eddie taking in shallow breaths as he carefully surveys your reaction. He can't read your mind right now, he so badly wishes he could see what you're thinking because your expression is kept tight and neutral through it all.

"Do you... still want me to leave?" he whispers quietly. You don't speak, you don't nod nor deny him, you just continue to stare at him with a blank expression.

It's enough of an answer for him.

"You do, huh?" he chuckles, the sound as hollow as his heart. "It's fine, I uh, knew you wouldn't want me again after this. But you... you deserved to know the truth. Again, I'm so sorry for hurting you. I love you though. And I never lied about that."

He's hoping that you're going to stop him from leaving. That this is going to be the breakthrough moment in those romantic films, where you cut him off from speaking with a fierce kiss and whisper forgiveness against his lips, pinning him against the door.

But you don't even twitch. You just silently nod, unreadable expression on your face, and let him brush past you and walk down the stairs silently.

Eddie's heart stills feels heavy, grieving the loss of you and your love. But his shoulders feel ever so lighter, knowing that he's done the right thing by apologizing and explaining himself. He still feels like shit, he still thoroughly plans on smoking at least two packs when he gets back to his trailer, but he feels like he can breathe a tiny bit easier now.

"Wait."

Your voice suddenly rings out from behind him, your front door hanging open behind you as you've clearly ran through the house in a rush. Eddie jumps up in surprise, bewildered that you've chased him down the stairs.

"Y-yeah?" he stumbles out, pulling away from his van door.

"I forgive you. Sort of, I mean, it'll take a while for me to get over it and to fully trust you again but I... I still love you. Do you still love me too?" you whisper, doubtful.

Eddie almost wants to laugh at that question: that you'd even think for a second that he's spent any moment of the past two weeks being anything but in love with you.

"Of course I do, princess. Never stopped."

"Then that's all that matters."

This kiss tastes and feels totally new. Salty tears, mint toothpaste, your shaky fingers grabbing his as Eddie pulls you in impossibly close.

He's trying to memorize every aspect of you, having been starved of your presence for too long, committing every single aspect of you to memory. How you taste against his lips. How your body fits right against his when he places an arm around your waist. How your hair tickles his neck from this angle, moonlight shining a halo around the crown of your head.

You try to pull away a few times to catch your breath, but he doesn't let you, your giggles being swallowed by another needy kiss.

Eddie doesn't ever want to lose you again. Not even for a second.

a/n: if anybody actually read to the end of this story... thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. This story has been a true labor of love, sweat and tears and countless hours of work. Whilst I was re-editing this I realized I kind of don't like how it turned out but I worked so hard on it and I already announced I was gonna post it so here it goes, I guess.

I've had this concept of a social outcast x Eddie reader with a enemies to lovers trope thrown in for a while so I'm just glad that I got it out my system. Totally nervous and completely unsure of how this will be received (my longest fic to date) but it's out now. Thank you for reading ❣️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k #6k #7k #8k #9k #10k #11k #12k #13k #14k #15k #16k #17k #18k #19k #20k

[emilybeemartin]

Just to tie in my two themes this month----

Additional notes, because poll options apparently limit their characters:

Frodo finds great peace in watching the tides rise and fall throughout each day. He attends all the ranger programs on birds and seashells and fills pages with sketches and poetry.

Sam meticulously selects postcards in the gift shop for each of his friends and spends a whole morning writing and addressing them. He also buys Junior Ranger hats for his kids and a variety of Appalachian jams for Rosie.

Park rangers launch a Missing Person search for Aragorn when they realize his car's been parked at Avalanche Creek for three days. The search runs for almost a week before he comes strolling out the opposite side of the park, supporting one of the SAR techs who twisted an ankle during the search.

Legolas is first drawn to Olympic for the towering, mossy temperate rainforests, but the ground goes out from under him when he steps onto Second Beach for the first time. He spends an entire day watching the light and tides shift on the sea stacks, and he leaves feeling both full and hollow, like a bell that's just been rung.

Mammoth is only Gimli's first stop on a cavern tour, followed by Jewel and Wind Caves and Carlsbad Caverns. Wind Cave is his favorite for the unusual formations. He makes an obnoxious tween boy cry in Carlsbad for breaking off a speleothem.

Boromir is on a tour of military parks. He asks so many questions to the intern working the info station at Fort Sumter the kid has to go find the park historian. His favorite site is Vicksburg because that place was buckwild, though he silently judges one of the reenactors for his clumsy handling of a black powder rifle.

Merry also makes stops in Jurassic and Dinosaur National Monuments. He watches every park video, takes selfies in front of all the fossil exhibits, and earns his Junior Ranger badge at each one. He buys a keychain for Pippin.

Pippin actually gets four citations, mostly for trying to stick his hands in mud pots. He doesn't mean anything by it---he's just so delighted and curious about the bizarre landscape. He winds up with several thermal burns and dumps a king's ransom in the donation box on his last day.

Gandalf gets dinged by rangers for not paying the $5 fee for Trunk Bay, but he acts senile until they eventually decide to drop it. He gets postcards from everyone and responds to none of them.

Faramir and Eowyn are traveling together and do many of the same hikes and rides, but they do have some different preferences off-trail. Eowyn drags Faramir to a rodeo and the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar in Jackson Hole, and he goads her into Ranger Shelton Johnson's living history programs on the Buffalo Soldiers in Yosemite.

Eomer is bike-packing on his sport cruiser motorcycle. He goes to Roosevelt south unit for the wild horse herds but ends up spending half a day watching a prairie dog town. He takes 400 photos of them, mostly blurry, and texts them to Eowyn.

#i actually did legit trip planning for this post #whats my choice? #I'm the ranger in Yellowstone who keeps finding Pippin putting his face in the goddamn paint pots #during office hours I follow the updates of the SAR in Glacier #after that I catch up with Faramir in Teton to hike Paintbrush Divide and casually ask what his brother's up to #oh he's going to be at Fort Laramie next week? #you don't say #when I get back to YELL I put in for emergency days off #do i give a damn about Fort Laramie? no #lord of the rings #lotr #frodo #sam #aragorn #legolas #gimli #boromir #merry #pippin #gandalf #eowyn #faramir #eomer #national parks #31 days of national parks

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 14

TITLE: Some things are better left unknown

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x Felix x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: a threesome with Chanlix where you’re yet to discover a very sobering truth about the pair of them.

TAGS: explicit language, threesome, oral sex (f!reader receiving), porn with plot, use of the name 'baby girl' and 'angel', swearing, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex but protected anal sex, double penetration, big dick!Chan agenda, praise, slight body worship if you squint, kissing/making out.

A/N: Aussie line fucks hard, bye. (If there are mistakes, I will fix them. Currently running on v low sleep)

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @luneskies @queenmea604 @kibs-and-bits @kbitties @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung

-

Milk, nori, rice, raw tuna, coffee, yoghurt, bread, and eggs. 

This was all Chan sent you to the supermarket for. All of which could have been easily picked up from the convenience store down the road. Maybe minus the raw tuna which has to be high grade since Chan wanted to make an attempt at onigiri for the first time. However, you would’ve saved an entire trip to the busy supermarket.

Not to mention, grocery shopping sucks in general. At least that is when you’re on your own. In your apartment that you share with your good friends Chan and Felix, two people are responsible for the shopping per week which rotates each time. 

If you’re with Felix, sometimes you both tend to muck around. Not to mention forgetting almost a quarter of things on the shopping list which ends in a stern lecture from Chan. On that matter, if you’re with Chan, it’s an in-and-out task at the store in less than ten minutes. 

Efficient and practically timeless.

Even though it’s no trivial matter, you manage to get through the pointless shopping before heading home to the apartment. These could’ve been picked up at the convenience store, you think to yourself again. A sigh leaves your lips as you unlock the door, bumping it open further with your hip as you slide your shoes off. 

“I’m back. Remind me to buy an umbrella next time-”

Your body freezes on the spot. The bag of items falls from your possession, collapsing onto the floor. Something inside it broke but it’s nowhere near enough a distraction for what is in front of your eyes. 

Maybe you need your vision checked because if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, then you wouldn’t have just seen Chan and a topless Felix who are both making out. The two of them sat on the edge of the bed, still lip-locked until they caught onto your presence.  

For the few seconds you stood there, rooted to the ground, felt the absolute longest.

Neither of them was as internally panicked as you when they noticed you standing there. Nor did they have hundreds of questions zapping around their brains in the span of a few seconds. It was like your entire vocabulary had turned to dust and were blown away because there were no words to describe what the hell was happening. 

Maybe it was a dream. 

“T-That was quick,” Chan stammers with an awkward chuckle, breaking away from Felix, almost pretending like nothing just happened. 

Felix looked like a complete mess. Dark brown hair mangled - clearly from Chan either running his fingers through it or tugging it - the air gets stuck in your throat with those two theories in mind, painting very interesting visuals and an odd sensation in your stomach. 

Chan looked equally dishevelled. There’s a dark red splotch peeking above his collarbone that you had no trouble guessing how it got there. On top of that, his pants were already half undone, and his lips were bitten red and wet, and they both looked so…so…

“What…the fuck…” you manage to speak once your mind has cleared the only one per cent of its capacity to grasp the circumstances.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Felix quickly says as he stands up from Chan’s lap and walks over to you.

It was useless for him to try to take advantage of your shell-shocked state because once your surprise had completely thawed out, your words started coming back to you. 

“Oh my god, what am I even doing?” You ask, clamping your hands over your eyes, ready to head right back out of the apartment. “I’m heading out.”

“Wait!” Chan calls out, arm outstretched towards your direction. “You don’t…you don’t have to go. If you want, you can maybe join us. If…if you like.”

Join them? Blindsided by those words, there was no trouble for the difficulty you had in trying to figure out if you heard right or just imagined what Chan said. Why would he ask you that question? But more importantly, why were they hooking up in the first place? It was evident that there had been something going on between Felix and Chan - unless this was just a new one-time thing. 

However, even if it wasn’t, you had been left out of the secret. Nonetheless, you quickly came to your senses. Whether they hook up or not is none of your business. 

“J-Join you?” You stammer. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chan emphasises. “It’d be rude to not let you in on the fun.” 

You definitely weren’t hearing things, and this wasn’t a dream. 

At first, you can’t understand why you’re even considering their request, but there is one piece of information that sprung to mind and that’s your sex life. It hasn’t been entirely sex-filled as you’d like it to be, not to mention your slight lack of experience with threesomes wasn’t vast - but it also wasn’t limited either, especially after that encounter you once had with two of their friends Changbin and Hyunjin on a separate occasion. Although, they didn’t need to know that at all. 

That being said, this takes the cake. You can’t even comprehend what Chan or Felix are like in bed but, the opportunity seemed too ridiculously hot to pass up. 

“You...you want me to-“

“Like Channie said, if you want,” Lix assures you, interrupting your babbling. 

You aren’t somewhat surprised that Felix would ever want a threesome. He’s had sexual partners here and there in the past, multiple ones at a time. However, Chan never struck you as the type to have sex with more than one person. Even after a year of living with him and getting to know him, he’s still pretty private and exclusive. 

With the matter at hand and the more you think about the prospect in front of you, you aren’t opposed to the idea. So with your brain taking full control of your body, you hesitantly step over the discarded groceries lying on the ground. This is happening. Felix picks up on the right cue and extends his hand out to you as you take it gently. 

He guides you over to the edge of the bed where Chan is still sitting, but as you’re led over, he rises to his feet. There were a few seconds where you’re a little bit bewildered by what’s going on, but when you look into Chan’s dark eyes and as he takes your free hand, you become more centred.

Before you know it, he leans down to kiss you and kisses you good. You’ve never felt anything like it and as Felix releases your hand and sneaks behind your body, your mind starts turning into jelly. He gently swipes your hair to the other side of your shoulder while his other hand freely roams around your waist, underneath your shirt to feel the heat of your skin. His mouth places chaste kisses from your shoulder up to your neck. 

It feels so heavenly to be sandwiched between them; Felix kissing, biting softly over your skin while Chan continues to explore your mouth. It was impossible to think that just a few minutes ago, you were at the grocery store and now a complete world shift just seems to be occurring within that time frame. 

Chan breaks away from you for a second, kissing you tenderly one last time before sitting back down on the bed and moving up to the headboard. God this is really happening. You’re too deep in it now to not follow him like a lost, yet obedient puppy. You can see that he’s hard and want to touch him so badly but-

“Sit between me and face towards Felix,” he instructs before you can even reach for him. 

Your cheeks burn. While you have no idea what’s entirely in store, your body is getting excited and very obviously, so is Felix. He crawls over to you once you’re snug in between Chan’s legs before he tugs your shirt up from the hem and tosses it aside. Then, he finds your lips and kisses you until you have to silently beg and chase him for it.

Squirming in place, you feel hot and subjugated by Chan sitting behind you - snaking and trailing his hands around your now half-bare body, and Felix in front of him, who’s now gone on to give his supposed man some attention too.

He’s up on his knees with his body so close to you that you can feel the heat from him. Chan tilts his head up from resting on your shoulder and lets Felix take what he wants. The slick wet sounds of them both kissing along with the tiny moans you can feel in your ear, makes you shiver all over. You’re only still comprehending this all, that this is still actually happening. 

“So needy,” Chan says as he breaks away from him, inches away from his face when Felix hears and feels you unbuckling his belt. He straightens back up and consumes how flustered you are, observing the way you blink up at him pleadingly, displaying how badly you want it now. 

Felix smirks, gently grabbing your face with one hand and lowering down just enough to kiss you senseless again. But he cannot stray away from his other plans so frees himself from your lips to help slide your pants off down and discards them to the side. 

Immediately, you can see where this is going. 

“Aw, look how bad you want it,” Felix comments, swiping his thumb over the damp spot of your underwear with enough pressure for you to muffle a whine by biting down on your lip. You do want it bad and already seem to be losing a fight to the pleasure Felix is barely giving you. 

“Don’t tease her too much,” Chan cautions. 

Felix doesn’t seem to hear the warning for him as he helps you shimmy your underwear down. From there, Chan takes over. He hooks both of his legs over yours and separates them to not just expose you for Felix but to hold you down for what’s about to unfold. 

Heat accelerates through your cheeks as you feel embarrassed. At this point, your brain hasn’t caught up with the fact that you never show this much skin, let alone any skin in front of either of them. But that was going to be an afterthought for you when Felix distracts your mind by gently prying your legs open from your bent knees.

Pathetic whimpers slip past your lips as Felix lies down on his stomach, his face inches away from your pussy while he pets and glides his two fingers in between your folds. 

Your head shoots back onto Chan’s shoulder, very narrowly missing his face, “f-fuck…oh my god.”

Without warning, you feel the tip of Felix’s tongue lap a few times over your clit. If it weren’t for Chan acting as a human restraint to hold you down, there would’ve been a solid chance of you lurching forward. His arms are still wrapped around your abdomen, preventing you from moving forward so that you can take what Felix is giving you. 

It’s cruel, but Chan thinks it’s necessary for you to feel everything. Which you do when your hands grip each of Chan’s thighs, nearly squashing him backwards between you and the wall. 

“How does it feel?” he asks you. 

“F-Felix, mmm-” you breathe out his name, unable to answer properly and feel some vibrations from Chan’s chest to suggest that he was chuckling. Mainly at the fact that you weren’t able to directly answer his question. 

But it’s not long until the room quickly fills with your whimpers and moans mingled with the beautiful wet sounds as Felix keeps eating out your pussy. Tingly sensations spread like wildfire throughout every cell in your body from his mouth. It’s gradually becoming impracticable to keep up with his tongue. Not that you’ve ever imagined it before, but he does give good oral, good enough to put your breathing pace out of whack when he sucks on your clit. 

He’s not afraid of enjoying himself either. You can hear and feel his moans reverberate throughout your lower half. It even adds to the sensation of bliss that’s forming a knot in the pit of your stomach. So even though you don’t know, this is as good for Felix as it is for you. To him, it’s like going to heaven. 

What you also didn’t seem to know was when Chan unclasped your bra from behind your back and placed it to the side. His hands went from just holding you to now groping and playing with your tits as your body continued to melt into Felix’s mouth. 

“You’re loud aren’t you?” Chan whispers in your ear, rolling both of your nipples in between his thumbs and fingers to make you mewl and squirm. The different methods of pleasure send interesting messages to your brain that only make that crest of ecstasy build higher. 

You can only mewl until coherent words appear in his brain and out through his mouth, “s-sorry.”

Felix’s head game is so ridiculously mind-blowing that it makes you forget what language you speak.

Chan chuckles, purring into your ear, “don’t be sorry. You just can’t help it can you?” 

His hand circles up to your jaw, tilting it towards his face. He confirms in his mind how much of a mess you are. Cheeks stained pink with a fucked up expression that reads ‘I need more’, to which Chan reaches down and kisses you, sloppy and lazy. 

The velvety feel of your mouth when you open up more is slick with warmth. It’s starting to become more obvious how close you are when you start moaning repeatedly into Chan’s mouth. 

“I’m going to fuck you after this,” he breaks away, just inches from his lips again. 

You never would’ve guessed that Chan was even capable of forming such a dirty sentence. Then again, you never would’ve guessed that you would ever be in the position that you’re in now - having a threesome with your two housemates. 

“I’m…you’re gonna make me cum,” you sob, turning your head towards Chan on his shoulder, almost as if you were trying to escape the expansion of euphoria. He couldn’t help but kiss your forehead, waiting for you to brace for that wave. 

“Yeah?” Chan rouses. “Want to cum for us baby girl?”

You nod, too helpless to form an answer when you’re on the cusp of a forceful orgasm. He underestimated the strength he needed to hold you down, especially when you’re about to cum. So just when he needed to add more force, your body stiffens. Your legs so desperately crave to clamp around Felix’s head to help triage the pleasure, but it’s no use when Chan has you completely locked in. 

Your eyelids flutter, head pressing back further into Chan’s shoulder, “yes! I’m cumming!” 

With ragged, heavy breathing, the all-consuming pleasure takes you by the throat as the pleasure surges without control. Even though you’re being held down, it doesn’t stop your body from quivering. It lasts for what feels like an entire minute – one of the best orgasms you think you’ve ever experienced. 

Felix’s tongue slows down to a snail's pace, licking a few final stripes before kissing his way up your body, from your clit, abdomen, and then up to the base of your throat. His chin glistens as he adorns a smug smile. 

“Fuck…” you sigh out defeatedly, the aftermath of experiencing a volume of pleasure was starting to take its toll. “Oh my god.”

Chan kisses the side of your head, “sound so beautiful when you cum. Lix, switch with me so I can fuck her, yeah?”

“Wait-“ you pause, trying to reorient yourself as you hold onto Chan’s forearm for support. “I wanna ride you.” 

Felix looks down at you, “you sure angel? Channie isn’t exactly small.” 

From that statement alone, it was obvious to you that Felix was speaking from experience, a strong indication that they had in fact mucked around at least once in the past if not multiple times. But it didn’t matter if Chan or Felix for that matter was packing twelve inches, you needed to have something inside you to tame that need of feeling full. 

“I want to ride you-“ you nod to Chan – “but I want you to fuck me at the same time-“ you indicate towards Felix.

Neither of them expected you to be into that. Then again, they didn’t necessarily expect you to join them in bed either so anything was a surprise to them at this point. Chan and Felix can’t deny how insanely hot it is to hear you not only ask for them to do something but specifically ask you to do that. 

“Are you sure baby?” Chan has to ask you for assurance. 

“I can…I can take both of you.”  

Still stunned at your answer, Felix ushers to Chan, “you heard her.” 

He cannot lie and say that he’s not excited, because he is – they both are. So while Felix goes into the bedside table for a condom and lube, you move yourself off of Chan, turn around and start unbuckling his belt and helping him take his jeans off, almost like you’re in a rush. The imprint of his hard dick is enough to make your mouth water, and as Felix said, Chan definitely isn’t small. 

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, reorienting himself on the bed so that his head is on the pillow.  

Felix returns with the items he needs to help prep you, taking it as a sign to straddle over Chan’s legs and slowly tug his black boxers down. His cock springs onto his abdomen, the dark pink tip reaching just under his belly button. He had to be at least eight inches. Maybe just under, just.

“Ready angel?” Felix asks, kneeling behind you as you straddle Chan. The position would allow you to not only ride Chan but to take Felix from behind too, a dream so delicious that you can’t help but wonder how it was still all possible. 

“Yes,” you mutter. 

“Okay then,” he replies. 

Chan then holds the base of his cock steady for you, watching you slowly take those eight inches. The tip of his dick gently slots into your pussy, taking your time with sinking down. The warm heat engulfs his length, already sending shockwaves throughout his lower half. 

“That’s it, baby,” Chan says encouragingly, his fingertips delicately massaging over the skin of your things. “Good girl.”

You bite down on your bottom lip at the extraordinary stretch. In the meantime, Felix squirts a dollop of the lube onto his fingers to warm it up a bit before applying it to your hole.

He thumbs over it, sending shivers up your spine. It’s vital to him to make sure that you’re prepped well for him to fuck your ass. So he starts small by slowly inserting the tip of his finger, before gradually using slow yet long strokes, enough to make your head loll back. 

Felix has to express in awe when he sees the result of your efforts to fully envelope Chan’s length, “look at that. You took all of him, angel.” 

You know very well that you have because you can feel him in places that other men in your past haven’t reached. The stretch still sings a bit but it could easily be confused with the gorgeous satisfaction of Chan filling you right out. 

“So…big,” you strain out, scratching your nails down Chan’s abdomen, almost like a cat, just not as painful. 

Meanwhile, as Felix has slowly been stretching your hole out with his fingers, he uses his teeth and his free hand to peel the foil back of the condom packet. He had already freed himself from his jeans when he went to reach for the lube beside the bed so was hard and ready to roll the condom down his cock.   

“M’ready Lix,” you say to him, unable to see the smile you brought to his face from how eager you are. 

“I know baby, just one second,” he replies before aligning his cock with your hole. 

Very carefully and slowly, he starts pushing his tip in. Your eyes flutter shut, steadying your breathing in the process in preparation to take all of him as well. Chan rubs up and down your arm, distracting you from the temporary sting. With the lube doing its job, Felix can continue to push in at a leisurely pace right until he has the majority of his cock wrapped up by you. 

“Doing so well Y/N,” Chan says reassuringly. “Just stay like this for a bit until you’re ready to move yeah?” 

You nod, allowing your body and muscles to relax and ease into the pleasure that’s starting to fade out the burn. It’s difficult to comprehend a fuller feeling than this; to have two cocks stuffed in you to the hilt, and after a few moments of getting used to it, you slowly start to move. 

“Mmm, yes fuck,” you sigh with satisfaction, using your hands on Chan’s abdomen to steady your body as you being to move your hips. “You both…feel so fucking good inside me.”

Your words were difficult for Felix to not listen to who was trying to ward off from thrusting for a little bit until you were comfortable with him starting to fuck you. It wasn’t until your movements became a bit quicker that he began to catch up to your pace. Very quickly did the room turn into a space brimming with moans, wet sounds, and the sound of skin slapping. It was plenty to add to the intense sensation you were hurtling towards.  

Chan’s eyes are fixated on watching your pussy swallow his cock with every long stroke you take on him, “oh my god.”

With his tank top still on, Chan lifts it by the hem and holds onto it with his teeth. It wasn’t just to make sure that your hands weren’t going to be slipping on him as you use his abdomen to support yourself when you rock down, but it was also to restrict a whole bunch of moans that were about to rip through his chest. But even that couldn’t put a lid on the groans and growls rumbling from him. 

“Taking us both so well angel,” Felix says exasperatedly in your ear. 

His deep yet velvety voice has you leaning back slightly so that half of your back is pressed against his chest. With the help of you turning your head towards his face, Felix’s mouth crashes onto yours, almost tasting the remnants of yourself from before. He kisses you passionately, moaning into your mouth like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. 

“Fucking perfect,” he growls, diverging from your mouth to dive into your neck to suck a few hickies in and groping your tits from behind. “Can’t get enough of you dammit.” 

You sob out as he pinches your nipples, but also when Chan reaches down to your pussy, finds your clit and begins to rub in perfect motions, “god – fuck, I can’t…s’too much!” 

Their cocks hit spots so phenomenally that each time they stroke over them, your holes involuntarily clench around them. Not to mention the total stimulation they were feeding you. 

Felix’s hips haven’t faltered since they started pumping forward into your ass. The upward curvature of his cock seemed to be scratching the part of your brain that is responsible for making your eyes roll back. Chan’s dick on the other hand had you shaking. The length and girth were sickeningly satisfying. 

“Not gonna last,” you whine, still keeping up the same pace when you rock down on Chan and feel Felix continue to thrust in and out. “So close…” 

The hem of Chan’s shirt is long gone from his mouth, already given up on trying to suppress whatever was going to come out, “gonna cum for us again, huh? Such a good girl, taking us both at the same time.” 

Chan couldn’t lie either, but he was close a long time ago, probably the second you decided that you wanted to ride him. Felix happened to be on the same page. He couldn’t get over this entire situation, finding it so fucking hot that even just a dream of it would be a blessing. 

Words start to slip away from your brain once more. Aside from your orgasm swimming towards an astronomical high, you try to cling to that amazing feeling before it eventually disappears. But all good things come to an end. Your nails dig into Chan’s thighs while Felix has one arm barred just under your chest as the other hand doesn’t let up on your nipple. It throws your pace off balance and staggers your breathing when you start reaching that very pinnacle of euphoria. 

“Yes! Fuck, I’m cumming!” You scream out. 

Your thighs clamp around the frame of Chan’s lower half, shaking and shivering in place as the pleasure reaches its apex. Felix didn’t let up on his pace, fucking you all through your orgasm as Chan replaces your motions by fucking upwards and into you. Both of your holes spasm and contract around their dicks, enough to actually make them cum by the time you’ve reached the height of your orgasm. 

“I’m gonna cum, holy fuck, s’too good,” Felix’s head rests on your back, watching his cock disappear in and out of you before he starts to bust inside of the condom. His fingernails brutally dig into your hips when he cums. 

Your moans easily fill up the room once more now that you have no choice but to succumb to the euphoria when your orgasm hits its hardest. Chan’s head tips back further into the pillow, eyes screwed tight shut as he’s hit with a tsunami of pleasure. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he exclaims loudly, his chest heaving up and down as he spills inside of you. He’s lucky that he did because as the pleasure reached a point where it was too much for you to bear, you slowly lean forward towards Chan, their cocks sliding out of you in the process. 

On each exhale your body shudders, like the surges of aftershocks while the pleasure slowly plateaus. From this angle, Felix can still see you contracting, watching Chan’s cum leak from your pussy. If he wasn’t so fucked out, he would’ve had the energy to eat you out again. 

In saying that, he is the first to recover and come to his senses a bit faster than either you or Chan. He takes the condom off, ties it, and discards it in the rubbish bin in the corner of the room before putting his boxers back on. Meanwhile, you’re still panting trying to catch your breath, resting on top of Chan’s body, you feel his hand run soothingly up and down your spine. 

“Such a good girl for us,” he says caringly. “Felt so good.”

Felix sits beside you both at the top of the bed. He cards a gentle hand through your hair, observing your distant expression, “you there baby?” 

You blink up at him and nod, your brain still trying to process that sort of orgasm. 

“When you’re ready, we’ll get you cleaned up yeah?” He smiles softly down at you. 

As the minutes ticked by, Felix lent you a helping hand to stand up when you were ready. Even though you were wobbly on your feet, he still guided you to the bathroom and ran a nice hot shower. Both Felix and Chan joined you in a bid to make sure you knew that they were there, dousing you with as much praise as an individual could get – and they meant every word. 

When you were ready to hop out, Chan fetched you one of his warm jerseys and placed it straight over your body before telling you to hop in his bed while he went to gather up the towels and clothes from the bathroom. Just as he was picking up the last items, Felix caught him right as he was about to walk out. 

“She okay?” Chan asks him. 

Felix nods reassuringly, “out like a light.”

“Alright then,” he sighs contently. “She’ll probably be asleep for the rest of the day.”

“Mm,” he hums, staring at a space just to the side of Chan who picks up on the subtle behaviour. 

“Is there something wrong?” Chan asks as a slight concern balloons in his chest. 

“When are you going to tell her?” Felix asks. 

Chan stares at him, trying to figure out what he means, “tell her what?” 

He rolls his eyes and chuckles, “that you like her, idiot. That we like her.” 

That had been a distant thought for Chan for some time. The possibility of that ever working out between the three of you seemed like a long shot. You only all slept together. There was no depth to it other than that even though deep down, Chan would’ve liked it to be for the sole purpose that he likes you. But it’s not just him.

It’s also the one standing at the doorframe, staring right back at Chan; Felix. 

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #chanlix #bang chan x reader #felix x reader #chanlix x reader

[suguru-getos]

| Yandere Gojo Satoru x F!Reader | Axphyxiation |

A/N: The yandere in me has risen from the dead. Read this at your own discretion, Satoru is a manipulative, dangerous, abusive asshole here. Mentions of guilt-tripping, dub-con (doesn’t happen but mentions), belittling, comforting, gentle-talking.

Normally, on a normal day, you’d have the right to be livid, to scream out and throw a tantrum over Satoru’s antics whenever you wanted. It would usually go unnoticed, even catered to if he’s feeling nice. Not today…

“Being a little too bratty are we, Princess?” There was a greyish hue of rage in his sky blues. All, because of you. He would make sure you realize it. You’d cower in fear of him in times like these, breaking down into choking sobs and mumbling apologies for pissing off the ‘Honored one’.

“I swear, I didn’t—” You tried to defend yourself, before the glass window behind you cracked, breaking into shatters as you flinched. A reminder to not piss off Gojo Satoru right now. Your heart raced at the situation you were in. Kneeling in front of him like a guilty prisoner, not daring to look up. Anxiety being the only thing hugging you right now.

“Why did you think it would be nice to ask for Megumi’s phone?” Satoru spoke… almost dazed, still controlling the immense rage that he felt. At times like these, you, a mere non-sorcerer feels a pang of pressure in the atmosphere. As if it was hard to exist, as if it was hard to breathe. It was Satoru’s cursed energy going haywire.

“I wan-wanted to ask for, something.” You were slowly getting broken by this. Yes, you had asked Megumi to give his phone to you, a pathetic attempt to contact your friends. You couldn’t risk contacting your family or Satoru’s rage would pave way in a direction you’d dread more. You just missed them… you aren’t delusional enough to think they had the chance to rescue you after all.

“Ask for what, hmm?” Satoru tilted your chin up, your eyes meeting his harsh, unforgiving ones. He looked dramatically betrayed at your antics, while a choked sigh escaped you. “Just- just missed my friends, Toru.” You had been carefully calibrating this reply. Squeeze his nickname in with the truth. There— that’d make him… less dramatic. Or, that’s what you prayed & hoped for.

“Just- missed my friends, Toru.” He mocked you, mimicking your tone and his hand rested onto your neck, slightly choking. A grim reminder of what he can do to you but chooses not to. Tears well up in your eyes as you looked at him, silently praying for this to end.

“Am I not enough?” His voice rose, almost tediously high. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Please- Satoru.”

“I asked you a question, cupcake.” He chided you, as if he is shutting a brat up who was hell bent on throwing a tantrum. “I asked you something and I need an answer.”

You had to be really, really careful with this one. You mumbled, hands shivery and jittery. There have been times he’s locked you up, just so you miss him. Maybe decided to use your cunt with his fingers just so you’d embarrass yourself cumming over and over and he could taunt you for being a needy slut for him. You didn’t want that… “You are important.”

Your answer squinted Satoru’s eyes, thin ice….

“You are, enough. You are a friend to me, too. S’ just that sometimes I wish to know how they’re doin’ that’s it.” You were internally panicking. Satoru didn’t do anything to you until now but it was the ‘what he could do’ that made you nervous. Satoru wasn’t delusional, he knew you were being calculating and didn’t want to piss him off. However, he was fine as long as you tried to be in his good books. He liked feeling important.

“I see, then should’a just asked Daddy, eh?” He quirked a brow, another question for you to duck.

You decided to accept your mistake like his ‘good little girl’ nodding and looking down, looking oh-so-cute with the guilt laced on your features. “Sorry, Daddy.”

Oh it warms his heart up when his Princess tries to be good for him. Tries to win his heart & suppress his rage. “My baby’s apologetic?” He cooed, kissing your forehead softly, while you nodded like a bobble-head; almost reflexively.

“I see, I see… what’s my baby gonna do to make it up to Daddy?” A smug grin plastered over his features. You were so naive he had you exactly where he wanted you to be. Expressions all knowing & dreading the impending doom, you looked up at him and bit your lip. The bile rising in your throat with anxiety.

“Whatever- whatever you want.” You wanted to make this easy on yourself. Better to have him throw words at you and comply. Satoru… was more twisted than that. “Nuh uh… gonna have to see what you would do on your own to make it up to me.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly the answer he wanted. “Daddy can make love to me.” You uttered brilliantly, his eyes growing more tender. Satoru never, ever, forced himself on you. It was somehow, you, always begging, crying apologetically even— tormented in situations which hugged you like spiderwebs, with no escape wherein you’d do nothing more than to surrender. That’s what Gojo Satoru does…

“Oh really?” He almost scoffed, clicking his tongue. “Daddy’ll make you feel good after you committed a mistake?” He would also make it seem like everything he does is for your pleasure— there are days you believe it, there are days you dread it.

“Sorry.” A stray tear escaped you, it was as if you were being pulled apart with no defenses. “Please, I just— if you want I won’t cum.” Aww— his pathetic, little, dumb, princess.

“Perfect.” Now he has you where he wants.

“Then gonna be my pretty, precious lil cocksleeve yeah?” Satoru asked you once more, feigning the opportunity for you to say no. You nodded, almost gracefully in defeat.

“That’s my good girl.”

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere jjk #yandere gojo x reader #yandere jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo thirst #jjk thirst #yandere jjk thirst #yandere jjk smut #yandere gojo thirst #gojo imagines #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x you #yandere jujutsu kaisen

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How the kleptocrats and oligarchs hunt civil society groups to the ends of the Earth

It's a great time to be an oligarch! If you have accumulated a great fortune and wish to put whatever great crime lies behind it behind you, there is an army of fixers, lickspittles, thugs, reputation-launderers, procurers, henchmen, and other enablers who have turnkey solutions for laundering your reputation and keeping the unwashed from building a guillotine outside the gates of your compound.

The field of International Relations has studied the enemies of the Klept in detail: the Transnational Activist Network is a well-documented phenomenon. But far more poorly understood is the Transnational Uncivil Society Network, who will polish any turd of sufficient wealth to a high, professional gloss.

These TUSNs are the subject of a new, timely scholarly paper by Alexander Cooley, John Heathershaw and Ricard Soares de Oliveira: "Transnational Uncivil Society Networks: kleptocracy’s global fightback against liberal activism," published in last month's European Journal of International Relations:

https://ora.ox.ac.uk/objects/uuid:5e5a3052-c693-4991-a7cc-bc2b47134467/download_file?file_format=application%2Fpdf&safe_filename=Cooley_et_al_2023_transnational_uncivil_society.pdf&type_of_work=Journal+article

The authors document how a collection of institutions – some coercive, others organized around good works – allow kleptocrats to take power, keep power, and use power. This includes "wealth managers, company providers, accounting firms, and international bankers" who create the complex financial structures that obscure the klept's wealth. It also includes "second citizenship managers and lawyers" that facilitate the klept's transnational nature, both to provide access to un-looted, prosperous places to visit, and boltholes to escape to in the face of coup or reform. It includes the real-estate brokers and other asset facilitators, who turn whole precincts of the world's greatest cities into empty safe-deposit boxes in the sky, while ensuring that footlose criminal elites always have a penthouse to perch in when they take a break from the desiccated husks they've drained dry back home.

Of course, it also includes the PR managers and philanthropic ventures that allow the klept to launder their reputation, to make themselves synonymous with good deeds rather than mass murder. Think here of how the Sacklers used charity to turn their family name into a synonym for culture and fine art, rather than death by opioid overdose:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed

Beyond providing comfort to "Politically Exposed Persons" and "High Net-Worth Individuals," TUSNs are concerned with neutralizing TANs. Activists in these transnational networks play an inside-outside game: in-country activists will recruit peers abroad to bring attention to the crimes of their local kleptocrats. These overseas partners target the klept in the places they go to play and spend, spoiling their fun – and if they succeed in getting corrupt leaders censured abroad, then in-country activists can leverage that bad press to fight the klept at home.

To fight this "Boomerang Effect," TUSNs seek to burnish corrupt officials' reputations abroad, getting their names on humanitarian prizes, beloved sports teams, cultural institutions and great universities. They seek to capture international governance institutions that might wrong-foot kleptocrats, co-opting them to enable and even celebrate looters.

When it comes to elite philanthropy, TUSNs are necessarily selective. Kleptocrats' foundations don't fund anti-kleptocratic groups – they stick to "education, public health, the environment and the arts." These domains steer clear of human rights questions that might implicate their benefactors. Russian oligarchs love children's charities and disability rights – provided they don't target the Russian state.

If charitable giving is reputation laundering's carrot, then "reputation management" is the laundry's stick. Think of organized copyfraudsters who clone websites that have criticized their clients, then backdate the articles, then accuse the originals of infringing copyright in order to get them de-listed from Google or taken offline altogether:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#dark-ops

Reputation managers also spend a lot of time in court. In the UK – the world's leader in libel tourism, thanks to a legal system designed to let posh monsters sue muckraking journalists into silence – Russian oligarchs have perfected the art of forcing their critics to shut up and go away:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/04/londongrad/#enablers

Indeed, London is a one-stop shop for the global klept, a place were forelock-tugging Renfields will buy you a Mayfair mansion under cover of a numbered company, sue your critics into silence, funnel your money into an anonymous Channel Islands account:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/07/the-klept/#pep

They'll sell you whole galleriesworth of "fine art" that you can have relocated to a climate-controlled container in a Swiss or Irish freeport:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/14/poesy-the-monster-slayer/#moneylab

They'll give your thick-as-pigshit progeny a PhD and never check to see whether he wrote his thesis himself:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LSE%E2%80%93Gaddafi_affair

Then they'll hook you up with a cyber-arms dealer to hunt your enemies by capturing their devices:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/27/gas-on-the-fire/#a-safe-place-for-dangerous-ideas

But don't let Brexit stop you from shopping for bargains on the continent. The Golden Passports of the EU – available in a variety of flavors, from Maltese to Cypriot to Portuguese – offer the discerning failson access to the luxury good shops and fleshpots of 27 advanced economies, making it a favorite of the Khmer Riche – the junior klept of Cambodia's ruling faction:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/cambodia-hunsen-wealth/

But golden passports are for amateurs. Skilled klepts travel on diplomatic passports, which offer the twin benefits of free movement and consequence-free criminality, thanks to diplomatic immunity. The former Kazakh dictator's son-in-law enjoyed a freewheeling diplomatic life in Vienna; one daughters of the dictator of Tajikistan had a jolly time as an envoy to DC; another, to London (where else?).

All this globetrotting serves a second purpose: when rival elites seize power back home and force the old guard into exile, those ex-monsters can show up in the lands they called their second homes and apply for asylum. It turns out that even bomb-the-boats UK will welcome any asylum seeker who enters via the private jet terminal at City Airport (to be fair, these "refugees" have extensive properties in Zone 1 and country places in the Home Counties, so they won't need housing).

This stuff works. After Kazakh state goons murdered at least 14 protesters at a Zhanaozen oil facility in 2011, human rights groups around the world took up the cause. But they were effectively neutralized by TUSNs, with former UK PM Tony Blair writing on behalf of the Kazakh government to the EU condemning any kind of international investigation into the mass killings (add "former Prime Ministers" to the list of commodities for sale in the UK to sufficiently well-resourced murderer).

The authors close their paper with two case-studies. The first is of the daughters of Uzbek dictator Islam Karimov, Gulnara and Lola. And President Karimov was indeed a dictator: he trapped his population within his borders, forced them to use unconvertible scrip in place of money, and ordered the murder of hundreds of peaceful protesters, plunging the country into international isolation.

But while Uzbeks were sealed within their borders, Gulnara Karimov became an international player, running a complex network of businesses that mixed the products of the nation's oilfields with her family's fortune. She solicited – and received – bribes from Teliasonera, MTS and Vimpelcom, who were all vying for the contract to provide service in Uzbekistan. All told, she extracted more than $1b in bribes, laundering them through Latvia, Hong Kong and New York. She acquired real-estate in France and Switzerland, and her spree continued until her father collaborated with Uzbek security to seize her assets and place her under house-arrest.

Lola Karimova-Tillyaeva was Gulnara's estranged younger sister. She and her husband Timur Tillyaev ran the Dubai-based SecureTrade, which did extensive business with "opaque Scottish Limited Partnerships," laundering more than $127m in a single year to offshore accounts in the UAE and Switzerland. They acquired many luxe assets – a jet, a Californian villa, and an LA perfumier.

Lola styled herself as the face of the Karimovas abroad, a "philanthropist and cultural ambassador." She was a UNESCO ambassador and commissioned works of monumental art – and also sued the shit out of news outlets that reported factual matters about her family repressive activity at home. She organized AIDS charities in the name of Uzbekistan – even as her father was imprisoning a writer for publishing a book explaining how to have safer sex.

The second case-study is on Isabel dos Santos, "Africa's richest woman," daughter of Angolan dictator Jose Eduardo dos Santos. Isabel's vast fortune stemmed from her personal capture of vast swathes of the third-largest economy in Africa: "telecommunications, banking, diamonds, real estate and cement, among many others." Isabel enjoyed seemingly limitless access to state credit and co-investment, and was given first crack at newly deregulated industries. Foreign firms that invested in Angola were required to "partner" with Isabel's businesses.

Isabel claimed to be a "self-made woman" – a claim credulously parroted by the western press, including the FT. She used her homegrown fortune to become a major player abroad, especially in Portugal, where she was represented by the leading Portuguese law-firm PLMJ. Her enablers are who's who of corruption-loving lickspittles: McKinsey, Ernst and Young, Boston Consulting Group, and the Spanish BigLaw firm Uri Menendez.

Isabel cultivated a public facade of philanthropic giving and public spirited activism, serving as head of the Angolan Red Cross. She attended Davos and spoke at the LSE (she was also invited to Oxford, but her invitation was subsequently rescinded). On social media, she dismissed critics of her wealth and corruption as "colonialists," decrying their "racism" and "prejudice."

Isabel dos Santos's corrupt sources of wealth were finally, irrefutably exposed through the Luanda Leaks, in which the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists mapped the network of "top banks, management consultants and legal firms that were central to dos Santos’s operations."

Both case studies shed light on the network of brilliant, driven enablers and procurers without whom the world's greatest monsters would falter. It's a rare window on a secretive world, one that is poorly understood even by its inhabitants. As Michael Mechanic wrote in Jackpot, his 2021 book on vast, intergenerational fortunes, the winners of the lucky orifice lottery often lack any real understanding of how The Money is structured, grown and protected:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/13/public-interest-pharma/#affluenza

This point was reiterated by Abigail Disney, in a brave piece on what it's like to grow up subject to the oversight of these millionaires who babysit the children of billionaires:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/19/dynastic-wealth/#caste

This is an important contribution to the literature. We naturally focus on the ultrawealthy individuals whose reputations and fortunes are the subject of so much attention, but without the TUSNs, they would be largely helpless.

Going to Burning Man? Catch me on Tuesday at 2:40pm on the Center Camp Stage for a talk about enshittification and how to reverse it; on Wednesday at noon, I'm hosting Dr Patrick Ball at Liminal Labs (6:15/F) for a talk on using statistics to prove high-level culpability in the recruitment of child soldiers.

On September 6 at 7pm, I'll be hosting Naomi Klein at the LA Public Library for the launch of Doppelganger.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/24/launderers-enforcers-bagmen/#procurers

Image: Sam Valadi (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/132084522@N05/17086570218/

CC BY 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

--

Colin (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Palace_of_Westminster_from_the_dome_on_Methodist_Central_Hall_(cropped).jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#international relations #ir #enablers #consiglieri #lickspittles #plutes #guillotine watch #politically exposed persons #peps #high net work individuals #hnwis #oligarchs #reputation laundering #spyware #renfields #big law #uk #kleptocrats #transnational activist networks #tans #civil society #ngos #transnational uncivil society networks #tusns #slapps #Uzbekistan #Gulnara Karimova #Isabel dos Santos #angola #corruption

[yanderenightmare]

BNHA ! FIC

Bakugou Katsuki x f!darling

WC: 4.8k

TW: NSFW, derogatory dirty talk, spanking, angsty but with a fluffy ending

ONE MORE TIME?

You hadn’t fucked in a while. 

Katsuki would come home late – where being an intern only landed him with shit patrols and shit hours and shit pay – leaving him in a foul mood almost constantly.

You'd put on your most supportive charm and try your best to cater to his needs – being the designated one going grocery shopping and the one to do the laundry as well as clean the house, take the trash out, and make the bed – making sure he’s got nothing to worry about when he comes home. 

You don’t really care if it doesn’t align with the rules of feminism – you doll yourself up for him and wear only nice things – making dinner the way you know he likes, with extra spice – asking him about his day.

Being the best, most perfect housewife you could be.

But like always... he's tired and replies only in grunts with a sour scowl on his face – doing his routines seemingly on autopilot – eating, showering, going to bed – leaving you alone in the dark with the dishes.

You sighed, boxing up the leftovers before packing him a lunchbox for work. Tying a handkerchief around it to make sure it wouldn’t accidentally spill in his bag, also so he had something to wipe his mouth with after finishing – and as you centered the corners, knotting them together into a neat little flower, you couldn’t help how your hands began to shake followed shortly but tears slipping down your cheeks.

You slid down the kitchen counter into a thud on the floor, pressing your sleeve over your mouth to try and muffle the small cries that soon spilled over. You don’t want to wake him up. You don’t want him to see you like this. He works too hard; he shouldn’t be bothered by his girlfriend breaking down over nothing.

You just miss him – you miss him so much your whole body aches – even though he’s right there in the next room. You clenched a fist over your heart, feeling it strangle itself inside your ribcage – making your throat seize up, dry where you choked down sobs. 

You thought today would be the day. You’d gotten yourself extra ready. Wearing the dress he likes, even the lingerie he likes – not that he’d be able to tell without undressing you first.

You banged your head softly against the cupboards behind you, eyes closed as you calmed down your weeping. Still, you kept your sleeve pressed against your mouth, scared to let even your snivels reach him.

The hand covering your heart dropped into your lap. 

You let out a sigh, then thought about his big hands – imagining them – strong and sturdy and warm on your skin – roaming your body in greedy touches. How he manhandles you with his lips pressed against your ear – speaking filth in that awfully low teasing rust of his.

Your hand slipped between your thighs – under your skirt and beneath your panties – with two slim fingers sliding between your lips to gather the needy slick that had pooled there before bringing it up to rub your pearl.

You bit your sleeve, wanting to moan but needing to stay quiet. You can’t let him find you like this. You can’t wake him up over something so unimportant, not to mention embarrassing.

You’re so pathetic. It stung your heart, but still, you kept your fingers working – drawing wet circles into your clit that had become a hard bud under the attention it had been seeking for so long. 

You don’t often touch yourself. You just leave it to Katsuki. Your hands are so different it’s nearly impossible to even imagine it’s him – and besides, he does it differently – a specific way you struggle to replicate. Suppose he's gotten to know your body a little better than you over the years.

Still, you get there. Albeit a numb and rather boring high, you still shook as it took you. Though, it didn’t come close to how Katsuki makes you feel.

You just end up feeling ashamed…

Crying and cumming on the kitchen floor while your boyfriend’s in the other room fast asleep after a hard day's work. 

You freed your mouth from your sleeve and pulled your other hand out from inside your panties, laying them both in your lap as you mulled it all over. It’s cold and silent and dark, and you wish you’d just rushed along and gone to bed with Katsuki when he’d muttered his goodnight.

You banged your head once again, then picked yourself up from the floor a moment later, releasing a sigh that turned into a yawn while dragging your feet quietly across the floor. You put the lunchbox in his bag before walking yourself to the bathroom. There, you splashed cold water on your face, looking your reflection dead in the eyes. You’d made yourself so pretty today, but he hadn’t touched you at all… he’d barely even looked at you…

You almost cried again but managed to suppress it – washing your face free of mascara and lipstick, then brushing your teeth. You slipped out of your dress and fished one of his worn shirts from the laundry bin. It smelled sweetly musky, like him – fitting you like a tent, reaching longer down your thighs than most of your skirts. It felt nice. You could almost trick yourself into thinking it was him who’d made you cum earlier and not yourself – and that delusion itself was enough to make your chest flutter with warmth. 

You snuck into the bedroom and quietly shut the door with a soft click before sneaking under the covers on your side of the bed. He was already asleep. Deep breaths left him steadily while you studied his back in the dim light. He was tense. Maybe you could give him a backrub tomorrow – and maybe he’d fuck you in return?

One can dream…

The thought put a small smile on your face as you soon followed in sleep yourself.

.

He took out the lunchbox you’d made for him, wrapped in a silly handkerchief with a Pomeranian print. His lip quirked up for just a second. You’re such a dumbass. 

He and Eijirou had picked a tall place like usual – atop an office building with their legs dangling over the edge. It had become standard procedure.

They didn’t like being bothered during lunch – it prevented them from talking about the things they wanted to talk about, if and when they wanted to talk, and otherwise roped them into meaningless small talk they had no interest in. Eijirou could fake it when he had to, but Katsuki didn’t ever feel as inclined. So it was best for both of them to find someplace exclusive.

Which, more often than not, ended up with them atop a rooftop somewhere along their route.

Katsuki popped the lid and found your note. 

Burn it up, Boo!

You’re such a geek. You’re so silly it made him blush sitting there. 

Fuck... he misses you...

His nose stung a bit just thinking about it, but he stifled it with a sharp sniffle before it could get any worse.

Unclenching his teeth with a huff, he picked up his food before chomping down on it. How long had it been since he’d held you? Must be since he started his internship, which is what? A month ago already?

He couldn’t wait to run his own agency. He’d own a building just like the one they're sitting on right now – maybe even taller. You could work there as well – you already act as his personal assistant, after all – or maybe that’s just what a girlfriend does. Either way, if you would work with him, he wouldn’t need to miss you so fucking much all the fucking time.

“Mina told me to tell you something- but you need to promise you won’t tell your girl that my girl ratted. Okay?” Kirishima broke through his daydreams. He was holding a sandwich from the cafeteria. Looks like Mina didn’t pack him lunch, Katsuki thought with a small smug smirk. Poor loser. 

“What are you blabbing on about now, Shitty-hair?” He asked, taking another bite from his homemade lunch with pride. It couldn’t really get any better than you. Surviving the last few months of his internship wouldn’t be too exhausting with you as his cheerleader.

“Mina told me-” Eijirou started anew but broke himself off before finishing. “Ah fuck it– doesn’t matter. Just listen.” 

 “I am. Spit it out already.” Katsuki said, unfazed. Not much could annoy him when he was busy thinking about you.

Eijirou hesitated for a moment longer, unsure how he should phrase it. But if memory served him right, blunt honesty had always been rewarded with the impatient ash-blonde – so he decided to be straightforward with it. “Your girl’s gonna leave you if you don’t dick her down soon.” 

That got his attention.

“The fuck?” Katsuki barked, whipping his head to the side to glare at him – unchewed food still in his mouth, making his words come out muffled.

He had his mask lifted like a headband, pushing his hair out of the way and allowing Eijirou to see every angry furrow creasing his face.

“Don’t shoot the messenger-” He excused, arms raised with his half-eaten sandwich in his hand. “I’m just tryna help you out.”

Katsuki’s grimace didn’t ease up.

It looked like he was going to say something, but instead, there came a long pause of them just staring intensely at each other.

It was normal. Katsuki had become better at processing things quietly without the need to fling curse words. But still, the frown didn’t lift – only deepened.

“Tch-” He scoffed after a while – looking down at his lunchbox again – fingering the happy Pomeranian handkerchief quietly before muttering, now calmly. “Fuck does Pinkie know…”

Eijirou put his hands down again, turning to look at the city below them, taking another bite of his sandwich – speaking with it in his mouth. “Uhm- she says it’s been a while since the two of you fucked- and that your girl’s trying her best to keep you happy- mh- but that she’s at her wit’s end ‘cause you won’t talk or touch her-”

Katsuki’s frown softened a bit, eyes scanning your handwritten note again. It’s such a small thing, but without it, the day would have still been grey and sour. It was just a piece of paper, but it had felt like a warm kiss on the cheek and turned his mood from annoyed to giddy so seamlessly.

Losing you might just kill him, he thought.

A weak “Fuck-” left him then, along with a sigh. The feeling of dread ripping his chest was nearly enough to make him cry, but he clenched his fists and grit his teeth, and the sting in his eyes relented almost as quickly as it had come.

“That’s girls for you, man...” Eijirou continued. “Talking out their frustrations over coffee and cakes instead of throwing fits.” He laughed, turning his head to look at his unusually still and silent friend. Grinning at the sight of the cute pout that had taken shape on his face. “We could learn a thing or two.” He nudged suggestively.

Katsuki threw him a glance, spotting his shark teeth pulled into a friendly smile. He sighed again, this time with a bit of a bothered groan, knowing that was Eijirou’s way of telling him to open up.

“Not much to complain about…” Katsuki mumbled in an effort to brush the subject off. But the feeling of Eijirou’s round red eyes staring at him intently in wait – goading him into telling more – didn’t relent.

Katsuki wanted to ignore him, but at the same time, there was something inside him that told him he shouldn’t waste the opportunity. In the end, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to share. After all, Eijirou had been beside him for over a decade already, and they weren’t planning on ending their camaraderie any time soon. 

He smacked his teeth as though surrendering, offering yet another groan of annoyance. “If she wants me to fuck her, she should just fucking say so-” He spilled. “What am I supposed to do? Read her mind?”

Eijirou laughed again, shaking his head. “Nah, man- this is a proper lady we’re talking about. She’s not gonna be so brazen. She wants her ~man~ to make those demands.” He explained, keeping his smile before quirking his brow at the blonde. “Speaking of… why haven't you?”

Katsuki threw him another glance, but he couldn’t feel more awkward sharing such things, even after such long years of friendship. 

Not that Eijirou cared if he was a little rigid. Actually, he found it amusing. Katsuki just needs a little time, but sooner or later, he always cracks. It’s just lucky that Eijirou has the endurance for it.

“I haven't been ‘cause-” Katsuki started, visibly struggling. “I don’t wanna be too-” He stopped again.

“What?” Eijirou pushed, slanting his head.

The blonde threw his head back with yet another groan. “She’s all up and down the house doing chores- I didn’t wanna be a selfish prick asking her to put out as well.”

“Wow, man…” Eijirou chuckled, smacking his hand down on the explosion hero's slumped shoulder. “That’s so manly.” He praised.

But it didn’t take long before his smile turned a little sharper – now with not-so-altruistic intent.

“But uhm…” He snickered. “If not your girl... what have you been doing?”

“None of your fuckin’ business,” Katsuki snapped back with a growl, shaking the makeshift redhead’s hand off his shoulder – his scowl returning to its original glory.

“Oh, come on, man- give us a little something to laugh about~” Ejirou drawled, still with his playful smirk – eagerly waiting.

Katsuki brooded for a moment longer.

But then finally gave in. “The shower… sometimes the car…”

Eijirou laughed, now loudly – boisterously and long enough to make the blonde punch his shoulder. But the assault wasn’t even registered by the sturdy hero, who continued laughing until he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “That’s not manly.” He said, still with amusement in his voice. “That’s just sad, man.”

“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbled in return, refocusing on his lunch as the other male continued giggling.

“To think you’ve been holding back while your girl’s been pining for it.” Eijirou rubbed salt in the wound, adding insult to injury, before stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. “Mh- that’s why communication is key.” 

Katsuki also took his last bite before repeating his last words. “Shut up, Shitty-hair...”

.

He came home to the smell of cooking and the hefty sound of the kitchen fan. The door swung closed with a loud bang, and you soon walked around the corner – spatula in hand with your apron on.

“You’re home early!” You exclaimed, a smile spreading on your face while rushing over to him. Lifting your heels on your toes to plant a quick kiss on his chin. “Oh-” You gasped, surprised when he enveloped you in a hug instead.

Stunned still for a moment, but then you smiled.

“Welcome home~”

He sighed into you, big hands pressed at the small of your back, swaying you snugly against him – the spatula in your hand smushed between you.

You smelled like sweets, and he smelled of smoke, and you both closed your eyes at the familiar but almost forgotten scent – bodies relaxing, realizing how much they’d missed the other's touch.

He held you there for a while, nuzzling his face into your neck with a low rumble – almost like the purr of a cat – before letting you down slowly.

“Is everything alright?” You asked, looking up at him.

He kept his hands at your sides for a moment longer, his usual unreadable expression donning his face. “Not really.” He revealed, then pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Talk about it later, I’m starving.”

You wanted to ask but didn’t want to pry – trusting him that you’d talk about it later.

He set the table while you finished cooking, and you thought it a very nice change of pace – smiling with a giggle when he pulled out your chair for you. He was acting strange, but still, you wouldn’t complain.

Dinner went quietly. You kept waiting for him to talk, to tell you what it was that was bothering him, but he never did. You were both done not before long, and you got up to start collecting dishes.

He got up as well. Walking around the table, he stood behind you as he grabbed your wrist softly. “Leave it.” He said – his voice gentle, just above a whisper. 

“Katsuki?” You asked, before feeling it – gasping out a surprised “Oh-”

His hand rubbed the silk on your hip, messaging your skin through your dress as he pulled you back against his crotch, where you felt him – fat in his slacks – and nudging into the soft welcome of your butt.

Your chest fluttered with a giddy thrill, flustered and hot already.

“Right now?” You asked in a flushed rush. Bowed with both palms laid flat on the table – cheeks burning and eyes wide. 

“Yes.” He replied simply – voice still gentle but sturdy – perhaps a touch strained.

“Here?” You gushed, swallowing your spit.

“Yes.” He repeated, his lips hot on your throat, with kisses and licks and heavy huffs – his chest stiff and weighty with brawn, beating against your back where he haunched over you.

Your breath warbled, rendering your voice to just an unsteady whisper. “Oh- okay-”

He hoisted the skirt of your dress in quick tugs, bunching it over your hips before molding his clothed bulge neatly into your ass – squeezing your hips and pulling you back to meet his movements as he started rolling into you with need.

You let him – waiting with knees somewhat shakey. It had been so long since you’d last felt his lust for you that now it made you nervous. Your cunt was already weeping at the promise – so wet you soaked through your panties. Even your mouth had pooled with water, desperate for what was to come.

You closed your eyes, listening to him buckling up his belt, followed by the heavy sounds of his pants dropping to the floor – then the warm feel of his hefty manhood resting between your asscheeks. You moaned just at the feel of it. Veiny and warm and soft. Your breaths turned even thicker in your throat – so excited you nearly started wagging your butt to urge him into taking your panties off.

He did. Hooking his fingers beneath the lace, he pulled it down your thighs and knees and let it pool around your feet – giving your ass a wet bite on his way up again.

His fingers then found your puffy cunt, giving it a featherlight feel and releasing a strained grunt at the drippy mess discovered there – bathing his fingertips in your arousal. You heard him swallow thickly at your ear – his breath baring hints of something heavier from his gut – almost heaving as he grabbed his shaft and slid himself down through your thighs.

You nearly started whining boohoos, feeling his girth glide between the fat of your inner thighs, glossing itself in the slick from your cunt. Your insides screamed for it. It was all too sadistic for you to handle – you needed to push back into him – a wanton whimper escaping you even as you had your lip tugged between your teeth.

He answered the prayer, his movements controlled yet strained as he steadily guided it between the split of your pussylips until his head caught on your entrance. He hissed, pressing inside you without any prepping – and you sucked in a gasp, stinging at the stretch, taking the fat mushroom-shaped bulb inside you slowly – so overwhelmed your vision blurred with spotted light. 

Then you released the prettiest moan – whole body tense with anticipation as he eased the fat length all the way inside your pretty cunt – filling it so good, your thighs quaked with curled toes, sinking your teeth into your lip with eyes squished tightly shut – sighing with a needy whimper once his head nudged deep into your cervix.

You and your body both had forgotten his size. Feeling tunneled. You nearly had the urge to climb away as it rested inside you – every meaty inch stretching you out – but he held you steady at the hips, keeping you still as he nestled deep and completely within your walls – making you pant out like a needy bitch in heat. In the end, you couldn’t do much more than curl your toes into the carpet, eyes flickering with arms nearly giving out beneath you.

You didn’t expect the slap to your ass. “Ah- Katsuki-” You yelped with a buck, clenching down even harder around him.

He gritted his teeth at your pretty cry and did it again – planting his hand down hard into the doughy flesh. Pulling back with his hips and thrusting in again.

You clawed the table, picking up the tablecloth in balled hands – struggling to make breaths – insides fluttering and wavering between the delight of finally being filled and the flighty dread of being split in two – crying at the pain, being stretched so awfully good.

He smacked you again, and this time, you whimpered, reeling from the pain of it – feeling the skin sting and prickle – hot beneath the squeeze he made after, gripping the fat like putty. 

“Katsu- s’too rough-” You cried, shaking on his shaft – but also from the pleasure – feeling your head cloudy and hot where your brows cinched up.

He ignored your cry, giving it another hit with his palm. Backing up until only his tip remained inside, then running you through again – pelvis clapping your rear. So deep it choked you, making your tongue loll out of your mouth with your moans. So robbing, you needed to bow down until your tits rested on the table to avoid your arms giving out beneath you – panting as you held onto the feel of his every inch sliding in and out of you. Fucking you so well, you drooled.

“What's this I hear about you leavin’ me, huh?”

A cold rush flushed your body then.

The burn of pleasure suddenly went tense – still there, but vulnerable now. Your heart flared, beating fast – so loud you heard it in your head.

You weren’t able to answer before he’d snuck a hand up your chest and grabbed your throat, lifting you from the table and pressing you back against his chest where his lips could graze the shell of your ear. “I had a lil’ chat with Eijirou earlier. Care to know what he said?” He whispered now, feeling your breath turn thin beneath his hand. 

He held you tight, fingers sinking into your jugular – but more so in threat – not rough enough to choke you. 

Still, it made you squeeze on him harder. 

He didn’t wait for an answer. “He told me that Mina told him that you’ve been having ditzy thoughts about ending things… That true?”

“N-no- that’s not what I said-” You denied with a stutter – chest tight with a need to moan out, feeling the plush bulge of his cock-head knead into your cervix – making a mean outline on your tummy – burrowed so deep it made your thighs shake at the pressure – feeling the onslaught of that tightknit rope within your core begin to fray, soon to snap and let go.

“It's so like you.” He accused coldly, making another harsh thrust into you – cock punching your stomach in the perfect spot. “To go run your mouth with no plans of backing any of it up.”

“B-but I-” You didn’t have your wits with you to defend yourself – busy rubbing your thighs together, chasing the sweet release you felt pursuing.

“Buh-buh-but nothing.” He dismissed – his other hand making way down past your belly button, his fingers soon running over your clit – beginning to rub tight and slow circles into it – making your moans spill past where his hand kept your throat in a lock. “If you wanted me that badly, you should have just asked. But I guess that’s too much for you, isn’t it? You’re just too innocent, aren’t yah?”

You were nearly there until he spun you around. Quickly gathering your thighs, he picked you up and made you straddle him – pushing your back against the wall with a bang that almost had the pictures falling down.

You only moaned, going dumb from the thrill, wrapping your legs around his torso as he sunk back inside you. 

“I don’t buy it, sweetheart. Be honest now-” He breathed with a grunt, pressing his forehead against yours, and you slung your arms around his neck. “You’ve been touching yourself without me, haven't you?”

You bit your lip under his interrogating glare, looking into his red eyes through your lashes only to look away – flighty with a tiny whimper before squeaking out a hesitant but honest, “Ye-yes-”

“When?” He pushed with a hiss – wasting no time.

You burned with embarrassment – fingernails denting the swole and sweaty muscles of his back, feeling him dig inside you so deep and hard and fast you couldn’t help but spill with the confession. “Yesterday- after dinner- when you were sleeping-”

“Where?” He added, clenching his jaw at the shy way you nibbled your lip, telling him all your dirty secrets while pinned against the wall, taking him inside your tight wet cunt with such a face that just coaxed him into going harder and faster.

“H-here, on the floor-” You answered, moaning it for him with your breath in your throat.

“Tch-” He scoffed with a groan and a grin – feeling you clench on him, recognizing your mannerisms – you were getting close. “I didn’t know I was living with a little slut.” 

“I’m not-” You protested with a whine – giving him the cutest pouty face he’d ever seen.

“Don’t lie.” He barked, slamming into you – making you squeal with a moan, fingers pulling the locks at his nape while clenching on him tight – your breath shuddered, stomach tightening up like a knot before suddenly snapping. He chuckled hotly, feeling you shake from it. “Don’t you fuckin’ try it when you’re cummin’ on my cock like that-”

His lips mushed yours with another groan while you moaned from the release. He gripped your ass tighter, pulling you to meet his rhythm, riding it out of you – biting your lip to finish the kiss. 

“Be honest-” He seethed, his voice tight – low and gravelly, thick with arousal. “Where do you want it?”

You quaked at the question, head full of cotton from your orgasm. You looked at him with hearts in your eyes. “Inside me, please, Katsuki~”

“Fuck-” He stuttered – that was the last he could handle before burying himself deep – gripping you tight and keeping you snug against him as he emptied himself with hips jutting – pressing you firmly against the wall behind you.

He kept you there, forehead to forehead, holding his breath down to the very last drop – then let out a long and relieved sigh. But still, he held you there – with sweat running down his temple as he huffed air until both your breathing calmed down. And even then, he didn’t let go.

Instead, he carried you off toward the bedroom – leisurely in his steps as your legs dangled over his arms before placing you both down in the soft bed.

He helped you out of your dress, shimmying it off over your head with your hands lazily raised in the air – then he tore his own shirt off over his shoulders, flexing his back with a stretch and groggy yawn before laying down with a complete sigh. 

Throwing an arm over your midriff, heavy and thick with muscles – his hand splayed on the small of your back – holding you snugly – limbs tangled together with your heads propped on the same pillow.

“Next time you’re thinking about touching yourself when I’m asleep, just wake me up.” He grumbled, his eyes already closed. 

You gave a breathy giggle, murmuring an “Okay~” with a smile. Looking at his face and the cute blush dusting his cheeks with dew.

He had that small scrunch between his brows like always, twisting his handsome face into something so adorably moody even in his sleep. 

His warm breath puffed slow and steady against your face – dewy from his slightly parted mouth.

“Katsuki?” You whispered after a while, tapping your finger on his peck with a soft bite to your lip. 

He opened his eyes, sleepy but awake still – blinded by your wide-awake eyes eagerly staring back at him.

“One more time?”

tip-jar: Kofi

#bakugou smut #boku no hero academia smut #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #katsuki bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugou #yandere bnha #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere katsuki #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere my hero academia #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugou smut