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bllk-after-dark · 1 year

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wildest fantasies.

pairing. itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu, nagi seishiro x f!reader

content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, how the top 6 imagine fucking you, dom!character x sub!reader, vary in each installment, some are prevalent than others (oops), written in lowercase

itoshi rin. breeding kink, creampie, degradation, edging, fingering, jealousy, marking, possessive behavior, wall sex

mine is written on your skin with invisible ink. he fumes at a player from his team talking to you, who seems to be having fun when he sees you laugh. he doesn’t experience rage quite often, but that guy is the initial point and gets worse when the poster boy of blue lock strikes up a conversation with you.

“what’s with the silent treatment, rin?” you become frustrated over the lack of dialogue. the entire ride on the way home was tense and he treated you like a ghost. he also feels the same, but for different reasons. as the two of you enter your house, he pins you to the door with both arms above your head and cunt on his knee. you attempt to focus on lust in his eyes as his tongue battles against yours and teeth nips at your throat to leave bruises in its wake.

“craving attention from him out of all people, hm? fucking slut.” you gasp at the sharp friction of his knee against your cunt. he isn’t this rough and riled up, not that you’re complaining. he slips his fingers inside, pumping them in and out very slowly as punishment. “think he can fuck you like this? lukewarm, want him and everyone else to know that you’re mine.”

to prolong this type of behavior, you instill delicious images in his head. “how are you gonna show me off? the hickeys, sure. but what about a ring on my finger? your cum dripped out of me? or perhaps a baby in me?”

he pulls his fingers out when you’re nearing an orgasm, leaving you a whining mess. the impulse to buy a fancy ring with his salary and propose to you live, to fuck you in the locker rooms to see copious amounts of cum staining your underwear, and to fuck you enough to make you pregnant so that damn golden boy can mind his own business — which he’ll gladly make it happen. he rams his cock in you without warning and spends the entire day in the bedroom to make sure it takes.

“ah, there you are. i had to ask one of your teammates, but we lost track.” he’s back in the stadium, dazed from his daydreaming. you didn’t notice him blanking out as you’re busy geeking out about his plays. “watching a match in-person was so exciting! i get to see you steal a ball by kicking it between another player’s legs and score a goal with a direct shot— is that it? whatever, you’re so cool, rin!”

he shuts you up by kissing you, and everyone in the stadium reacts in a domino effect. the cameras pan to the two of you so it’s on live television, his fans freak out that he’s actually in a relationship, and his teammates — specifically that guy — are in pure disbelief. you wonder why he had done that, but he looks proud so you didn’t pry any further. “there. now the whole world knows.”

shidou ryusei. anal sex, blowjob, cuckolding, exhibitionism, face fucking, impact play (spanking), shower sex

demon is what everyone refers to him as. known to be vicious in the field, people hate to admit that he’s a damn good player. aside from being skilled at soccer, he’s also skilled at pulling risque acts in the context of yourself — willing to let the whole world know how tight you are. right now he’s fucking you from behind in the shower with hands on the wall and back slightly bent to stabilize yourself from his powerful thrusts.

“shit, you’re even tighter than yesterday!” he howls as his thick and wide cock drags along your walls and slaps your ass multiple times, leaving a red handprint there. this is a position favored by the both of you, and it never gets old. although, you do want to try out other things that you and he can find exciting. what he says afterwards is an adventure you can’t wait to embark on.

“i wonder if eyelashes will agree with me. how about we invite him someday?” you’d like that very much, honored to be acknowledged as a favorite pastime by the best player in japan. for now you want to practice sucking your boyfriend off, so you detach from him and kneel in front of his dick, lapping the bulbous tip with your tongue.

“holy shit, you’re tight here too! fucking hell… i dunno which one i like more but let’s find out, hm?” he shoves his cock deep into your throat and grips your head as he bucks his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull at how stimulating it is.

“feeling so fucking good. looking so fucking good, too. i bet you’ll do even better at the shower stalls in the locker rooms. or at a bar. or at an alley. or—” it’s incredible how he manages to talk about his shameless ideas when he’s at the verge of cumming whereas on the other hand you phased out. streams of opaque white gush out past your lips and trickle down your chin. his dick is still hard, meaning he’s ready for another round. his stamina is inhuman, like a demon. but knowing him, he won’t be satisfied until he has tried out every single thing on his growing list.

“can’t believe you took a nap during our bath. was expecting you to be more awake from the bath bomb i bought, but i guess not.” he’s greeted with a sweet peck, eyes fluttering halfway but can see you beaming at him brightly like the lights in the room. “got your towel here. now i have to drain the water, so shoo.”

he wraps his towel around his waist and then observes you unplug the drain. he happens to sneak a peek at the curve of your ass when you bend over to reach it, smug at how he happens to catch wind of how glorious the view is. he startles you by pinching the fat of your cheeks, and you turn to him, completely flustered. “what? want me to do it again?”

karasu tabito. aftercare, hand holding/kissing, insecurities, loss of virginity, missionary, petnames (baby), praise

sorry is your automatic reply when he hints that he wants to have sex. you’re a virgin; the thought of being unable to satisfy someone, especially one experienced such as himself, is deeply rooted in your head. on the contrary, it’s a huge turn on. since it’s your first time, he wants to make it extra special. it makes him more excited than he should be so he tries to tone it down to not scare you.

he reaches for your face, staring at him like a lost puppy. he smirks at how entranced you are when his fingers slide to your chin then glide over your lips. he kisses you hard, taking your breath away as he gently pushes you down on the bed. he gives you time to breathe while he takes off his shirt. you looking intently on him makes his heart flutter, that his body is for your eyes only.

“i’m okay. you can keep going,” you tell him when he checks up on you. with the slight encouragement of his hand drawing circles on your skin, you take off your shirt as well so he can explore more of your body. the two of you eventually strip yourselves to bareness in the midst of devouring each other with tongue and spit.

“squeeze if you want me to stop.” your hand is intertwined with his, ready to signal for the sake of your safety. he slowly penetrates you, his cock buried to the hilt inside your pussy. he blabbers about how you’re taking him so well, swearing he’ll cum faster than expected. he hooks a leg on his shoulder which allows him to thrust into you harder and deeper. the pitch of your voice rises higher and higher, you pull him toward your mouth to crash your lips against his. you hate how you sound it seems, but rest assured, it tells him that he has done his job right.

“shit, baby. you’re so perfect for me. how is this possible— agh,” he hisses out as he spills inside you. you’ve gone exhausted afterwards, skin sensitive from the caresses on your curves and kisses on your hands. this is what he’d like to happen, but the next time he blinks, you’re lying beside him fully clothed, meaning that the scenario is anything but real.

“tabito? you’re not saying anything.” you avert your gaze from his. you’re ashamed of literally pushing him away, believing that he’ll take offense judging from his silence. “i didn’t mean to do that. it happened so fast that i freaked out. can we start over and… start a little bit slower?”

“sure. let’s take things slow, then.” he kisses your forehead as a way to reassure you that you haven’t done anything wrong. somehow it makes you bolder, being the one to initiate the kiss while sneaking your hands under his shirt unconsciously. you immediately retract from the sudden move and are about to apologize for acting out of the blue. he cuts off a smile, gesturing you to keep on going. he’s so weak for you, and he’ll do anything to make you happy.

otoya eita. begging, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, nipple play, phone sex, toxic relationships (with reader’s ex)

relief washes over him hearing that you broke up with your former significant other through the phone. he never liked them to begin with and doesn’t understand what you see in them. being the good friend he is, he wants what's best for you. yet he decides to remain civil, albeit painfully. though, it’s not as painful as suppressing his sinful thoughts about you crumbling under touch.

“eita? can you do me a favor?” he loves your voice, but you saying his name is his greatest weakness. instead of heading it wirelessly, he’d prefer you moaning it in his ears when he’s railing you into a begging mess. he should feel guilty for harboring these feelings as he promised to play the ‘good friend’ role. but promises are meant to be broken anyway. “can you make me forget about them?”

the lines of friendship blur into indescribable tension. you express your frustration over the shitty quality of your sex life your former partner provided, rambling about how badly you want to be fucked on someone’s mouth. the cries of your nipples and clit aching to be touched causes his cock to strain in his pants. sex isn’t a topic you confide in with your friends, especially your male friends, but now it doesn’t matter. you called him to forget after all.

“to tell you the truth, you’ve been driving me crazy,” he sighs with his head leaned back as he pumps his length. labored breaths and whimpers are heard on your end; it seems you have the same idea. “so you want me to make you forget? what if i tell you i’m jerking off right now, wishing that i was inside that pretty pussy of yours? what about you, wishing that my mouth is there too and on your pretty tits to claim what has been mine in the first place?”

“i’m yours, always yours. please, faster!” your whines become more frequent that he cums on his hand and some on his thighs. he leans against the headboard, catching his breath alongside you. if you’re here, he’d leave more proof that you’re forever his with no room for your ex in your world as it should. yet it’s all white noise. the entire time he has been blanking out, so you were waiting for an eternity for him to say something.

“hello? earth to eita?” he snaps back to reality. the only real thing is the stickiness of his hand that’s covered in cum, so he really has been mindlessly jacking off to your voice. “i asked if you can do me a favor but i think i rather stop by your place to cool off. is it okay if i come over?”

“yeah, sure.” you thank him before hanging up. he tosses his phone to the edge of the bed, contemplating what he has done. never, ever again will he do this and vows to not speak on it. all he can do is to stick being the ‘good friend’ to comfort you through your breakup. he’ll do whatever it takes to prove he’s the better choice. they’ll be the day where you’re all his for the taking.

yukimiya kenyu. body worship, mirror sex, lap dancing, lingerie, riding, sex toys, strip tease, voyeurism

risk is his middle name. not only taking it to become the top striker in japan, but in the context of having strong urges to impale you on him. it’s confined in his pants, just like how his hands are confined to his sides. he’s restricted to ogle at your body clad in lace lingerie, attempting to tempt him to give into his desires with your alluring expressions.

the lingerie surprise tips him over the edge. he follows your fingers running down your breasts to your clit, agonized by the drag of one of them along the lips back and forth. he grips his seat to the point where he can almost break the bones of his hands. oh how badly he wants you, but being the menace you are, you keep insisting to stay patient until the end of your performance.

“mmm, not yet. keep your eyes on me,” you giggle, lifting his chin to face you with your mouth ghosting over his. you’re enjoying the sight way too much, but how can he also feel the same when you’re torturing him with the sway of your hips on his lap, the flex of your muscles when he glances at the many mirrors around him, and the teasing of your bra straps down past your shoulders? and when you also grind on his bulge along with a vibrator plugging in you which is your source of pleasure instead?

as if his body has a mind of its own, he finds himself dancing with you with an arm wrapped around your waist and the other cradling your head, kissing you with his life. then clothes start to fly off left and right. he yanks out your vibrator decorated with your slick and plunges you onto his throbbing cock, having you seated for his part of the performance. oh how the tables have turned; now you’re the one being tortured, pounded with quick upward thrusts from him.

“now for the grand finale.” despite your protests to slow down, he wants to relish your face and body contorting in pleasure through the mirror beside him. a multitude of thrusts later, he reaches his climax and feels your walls clench to make sure you didn’t miss a single drop. it’s a shame that time goes by so fast, because he sure wants to see your body arch for him over and over again.

“you know, it’s rude to stare without saying anything.” loud noises flood his ears. he’s in the mall on a shopping spree with you to help you pick out new clothes to spice up your wardrobe. although when you mean by ‘spice up’, he doesn’t expect to see you in lace lingerie at the fitting rooms. “so, uh… what do you think?”

he has speculations on whether you may have a hidden agenda to seduce him or just trying it out for fun. but all he do is marvel at how the lingerie fits nicely on your body, making you nervous. an idea pops into his head and whispers into the shell of your ear. “not sure. why don’t you buy and put it on tonight for me so i can see it better, hm?”

nagi seishiro. bulge kink, cockwarming, size difference (reader is implied to be smaller), somnophilia, spooning

warm is his favorite sensation when he’s curled up with you in bed. his chest is on your back and his left arm hugs your corresponding side while the other engulfs your right hand. his cock throbs inside you which can be seen poking your stomach, making him curse and groan as he places his hand there. the feeling is delicious, addicting even, and he’s hungry for more.

he pants against your neck as he lazily thrusts against your ass, the outline of the bulge moving up and down from what he can feel on his hand. so good, he chokes out in your ear, followed by a string of fucks and moans. that manages to wake you up, having you grab on the sheets from being overwhelmed by the pleasure from behind.

“sei…” his impatience causes your breath to hitch. at that moment you’re losing your damn mind upon his balls coming into contact with your skin. “fill me up…”

as he shushes you to go back to sleep, he kisses the junction of your neck and shoulder and hooks a leg over your waist for better access to pick up the pace to fulfill your wish. “mm, yeah. gonna make you so warm and full of me.”

“hm, sei?” the morning light seeps through the blinds, spotlighting on you who’s sitting up on his bed stretching. for some reason, you press your butt against his groin which is painfully— oh. “um, did you get hard from sleeping with me last night?”

it’s a dream after all. he throws the blanket over his head and turns away from you, refusing to answer as it’ll be bothersome to explain in detail. you dismiss his silence with ‘okay’ and by telling him you have to go to work. when you reach the edge of the bed, he pins you down with his arm around your waist and drags you closer to him.

“stay with me. just a bit longer.” you cave into his whims, deciding to indulge him during then by pulling your pants down to take his huge length. it somehow knocks you out, and he hopes that you’ll forgive him for making you late. but you’re so warm and so good, just like in his dreams.

vera. ayo, finally i posted something. it’s my first time writing smut and i died inside. as expected: it’s 10% smut, 90% cringe. the top 6 has me in a chokehold and i’m not okay.

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adawngswife · 4 months

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sean diaz fluff alphabet (rq)

(A) attractive - what do they find attractive about u? how do they show this?

sean is attracted to anyone or anything that deviates the norm. dyed hair, unique background/perspective, and unconventional features. literally anything u think is unattractive and not up to the beauty standard about u, he probably rlly digs it. hell draw it in his journal always! but not in a way that comes across performative—he just draws u authentically. he doesnt feel the need to modify how u look in his art bc he thinks ure perfect as is (booo corny).

he shows his attraction through flesh-blazing, skull-burning staring. he analyzes his muses thoroughly after all... he knows where all ur freckles/moles are and can draw ur smile from sheer memory. in the months that he crushed on u, u couldn’t help but feel this pestering feeling of being watched in class constantly.

hes still a dorky teenage boy so if u share the same music taste as him or have the same hobbies hell geek out!! “no way she can skate AND listens to my favorite songs…” lyla will just roll his eyes at him in response. he acts like tom from 500 days of summer 😭

(B) baby - how do they act around kids?

sean definitely says he hates kids. hell talk about how annoying they are and use daniel as an example ALWAYS. that however does not hide the fact that he is REALLY good with kids. i wouldnt say its in a fatherly way but kids tend to look up to him as a cool older brother (even when he doesnt try to be one).

sean also secretly loves it when ur good with kids, despite him allegedly hating them. he cant help but grin ear-to-ear when he sees how happy u make daniel. once he becomes self-aware he tries to wipe his smile off asap. when u, sean, and daniel go out u guys are practically his parents. both of u know how to shut down daniels whining fast. albeit sean does more of the hushed, frustrated demands and u just try to defuse daniel.

(if u guys have ever seen the video of jake and tara with that baby thats how i imagine u guys with kids 😈 except ur both a mix of tara n jake)

honestly the two of u can never decide who’s big spooning and who’s little spooning. to solve this issue the two of u just kind of… stack on top of each other.

esteban will do his routine dad check up on the two of u (preventing teen pregnancy) and walk into u guys jenga-ed on top of each other. ur legs are a tangled mess and u look like two corpses laid on top of each other. scrolling through ur phones while stacked is the go-to. ull be muffled chuckling into sean’s stomach at random videos for an hour…

while cuddling sean always traces little drawings/words on ur body. when u ask him whats hes drawing hell probably say its a dick LMFAO. so romantic 🙄

at the beginning of ur relationship, sean always felt the need to be the “man” and cradle u like some big infant. overtime he got more comfortable and whenever u guys watch movies on the couch hell be sprawled out on top of ur lap. one arm up supporting his head and a leg propped up like a princess xoxo

(D) dates - what are dates with them like? what do they like to do?

concerts, fairs!!! and MOVIES for sure

sean casually drops half his check on good seats for one of ur guys favorite band. the two of u have a tradition of replaying their music for weeks until the concerts about to start. it literally does not matter how many times uve gone to concerts with sean—u guys stay excited every single time. the after concert high is so good and u guys always kiss in the car afterwards. the two of u mess up each other’s hair and shuffle back in ur seats with swollen lips. sean backs out the parking lot while awkwardly clearing his throat 😭

SEAN IS SUCH A BIG FAIR GUY. he gives less than two shits if the pop-up fairs are shady and will probably collapse at the slightest gust of wind. he WILL take u on all the janky rides and tease u for being freaked out. he holds ur hand while giggling like a lil boy on the ferris wheel bc the creaking starts to freak the both of u out. he also tries to win fair prizes for u and say its a “bullshit scam” when he loses.

u beg him to go into the photobooth and take cute little couple-esque photos. he says “fineee” after some convincing with a smile and he avoids ur gaze after too. he definitely secretly wanted to the whole time though!! when they print out, they come out with those face-adjusting filters. u guys are WHEEZING laughing in front of the slot where they regurgitate out those abominations. sean puts it on the back of his phone case bc he thinks its so hilarious 😭

sean is a film nerd considering he had goodlands on his laptop. hes definitely up to date on any movie releases and will want to watch anything new with u. u guys always dissect the movie aggressively afterwards. the both of u will forever and always argue about which characters u liked and didnt over some takeout.

(E) equal - are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

sean on the regular is passive. he never was the “dominant” type to like… back u into corners. in fact he was really awkward when u first met him. hes lowkey scared of women 😭

it took him a while to get comfortable/assertive. by “comfortable” i mean gaining the ability to tease u back LMAO. when he first gave u a snarky remark ur jaw kind of hung open and u guys HAVENT STOPPED SINCE. overall, sean usually was the one to wait for u to initiate something. he never wanted to put u in a situation ud be uncomfortable with.

(F) fight - would they be easy to forgive their s/o? how are they fighting?

u guys fight like an old married couple. playful arguments always happen but once it becomes serious/personal things go south. one thing leads to another and the two of u just get agitated with each other

when u guys do seriously fight sean eventually lets u have ur way ALWAYS. he always prioritizes what u need/feel in the end and is really good at saying sorry. a part of him feels like big fights indicate ull leave him so hell always choke out things like “i just dont wanna lose you” after arguments. it sounds really dramatic but he has DEEP-rooted abandonment issues. hell hold u—whether it be an embrace or ur hand just to feel comforted afterwards.

(G) gentle - how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

GAWWWWWWWWWDAUH sean is so incredibly very gentle. sure, he teases u sometimes but in the end, again, he always makes sure ur comfortable! he asks u if ur okay when u look clearly overstimulated/out of it.

physically, sean doesnt mess around. he will constantly playfully shove u, mess with ur hair, etc. obviously its never to the point where it hurts but this is the only way he can get his daily dose of pda, so!

(H) hugs - do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

sean is crazy on back hugs. he will always surprise u with one and he WILL trap u in it. ull be walking around his house and chatting with his leech-self wrapped around u. he likes nuzzling his nose in and u can feel his lips curl into a smile on the nape of ur neck when u make a joke (😢)

sean takes the opportunity to embrace u at any moment of privacy hes given. when daniel or esteban catches him he immediately flings off u and starts stuttering LMAO. hes kind of lanky so if anything his clothes are what cushion u. BUT he is very warm and is a personal heater #tbh. who needs a coat when u have sean???

(I) i love you - how fast did they say the l-word?

i feel sean is VERY quick to fall in love but takes forever to actually utter the words out. he will have a love at first sight moment with u and only have the feelings grow bigger and bigger as time goes on. sean is overall a reserved person and wouldnt go out of his way to tell u, no matter how much lyla encouraged him.

he would only say it once it becomes overbearing for him. like, to the point where the extent he loves u has become pervasive and PERSISTENT. it will just explode out of him at some pivotal moment. u guys will be laughing hysterically at something only u guys would laugh at. then, boom, it slips out like its something he had to swallow back down a hundred times before. because its so sudden, it will definitely catch u off guard.

he would repeat it because he didnt think u heard it the first time like a dork. his stomach acid is doing fucking somersaults at this point. u will visibly see this guy’s face drop and his hands start to fiddle anxiously. his eyes will kind of dart all over ur shocked face in fear. he’ll choke a lil “sorry i have no clue why i even said that-“

u lean in and the rest is history 🤓

(J) jealousy - how jealous do they get? when do they get jealous?

sean is always a bit wary of specific guy friends or potential suitors u have in ur life. again, sean picks up on LOTS that most people brush over. he knows when people flirt with u and he always bites his tongue before he says anything.

whenever u talk about other people too much, he gets a little… sassy. ull be thanking some guy in ur class for giving u the answers and hell be grumbling “i wouldve gave them to u…” under his breath. u shoot a look at him and he just defensively puts his arms up LMAO. he never seems to stop either. the amount of times u caught him rolling his eyes… criminal.

(K) kisses - what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss u? where do they like to be kissed?

sean is so shy when it comes to kisses. when u first began dating, sean never kissed u without a shy “can i?” before. he never knew when was appropriate or if u wanted to kiss him at all. his ears would flare up in red and his eyebrows would furrow in concentration each time.

overtime, as he got more comfortable, sean began finding the “right times” himself. whenever u leave his house he always gives u a quick peck. daniel never misses his opportunity to scream “EWW” as loud as he can. sean will be like “one more” and smooch ur cheek and then say “wait another one” and just KEEP GOING. if he wore lipstick u would look like u were dunked in a pig’s blood.

smiling into the kiss happens without fail—every single time. sean cant help himself, hes a lover boy!! he will always slowly open his eyes and pray u wont catch him sneaking a look. once he pulls away, he laughs while covering his mouth with his wrist. he gets butterflies still, no matter how many times u kiss 😭 im sick.

(L) love language - what is his love language?

sean’s family is big on quality time so he definitely prioritizes it. impromptu hangouts are his absolute favorite and if he could, hed spend every hour he could with u. sean never fails to randomly invite u over and hold u at gunpoint to do family time with him, daniel, and esteban.

also sean is a big gift giver! he will always give u doodles of ur favorite characters and little things that remind him of u. u guys have matching pins, keychains, bracelets, etc. not only does he go all out, but he also knows EXACTLY what u like. again, sean is the most attentive bf ever. hes the kind of man who would spend hours making coraline dolls of u two.

(M) mornings - how are mornings spent with him?

sean is not a morning person. he is almost always running late to first period, so oftentimes u cover for him. he will come to class with messy hair and will lizard-blink at literally anything u say. when u tell him that u gave the teacher an excuse, hell let out a croak-ey "thanks" and he will on a 99% chance knock out right after. he'll probably dazily open his eyes at u every so often and go back to sleep LMAO.

on weekends, sean will... barely be awake for mornings. ull be up and ready, watching hawt dawg man on the couch with daniel while eating cereal. sean shortly comes out of his mancave, stretching and yawning. hell come to lean on ur shoulder and stare blankly at the screen. its never particularly productive but sean couldnt care less honestly.

(N) nicknames -what does he call u?

sean has a disdain for nicknames. uttering any of them out loud just seemed so embarrassing to him… unless he’s making fun of them. he does however love “girlfriend.” its not exactly a nickname but he loves saying ur his girlfriend or “my girlfriends coming over” to people.

at a certain point he started using it in sentences that wouldn’t make sense. he’d go “hi girlfriend” every time he sees u. he’s so stew peed… 😢

(O) on cloud nine what is he like when he’s in love? is it obvious for others?

lyla never hears the end of u. shell be talking about something entirely unrelated and sean will be disassociating with his mouth open. when he finally snaps back into reality the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “do u think she would find it a turn off that u drive me everywhere?…“

“yeah obviously— were u even listening sean?”

“mm okay…” he just goes back to tuning her out again LMAO.

esteban will be asking for his tools from sean and he’d be totally zoned out just thinking about u. esteban will pull himself out from under the car and groan “augh… lover boy…” without sean even saying anything to him… so yes hes obvious.

(P) pda - is he upfront about your relationship? does he brag about you with others? or he rather shy to kiss, etc. when others are watching?

i already wrote on this but sean would rather keep intimate contact privately. that is, unless hes really in the heat of the moment. for example, at a concert hed just get so riled up. the lyrics of the song perfectly aligning with the way he feels about u MIGHTTT just make him collide lips with u, who knows! at special moments he won’t hesitate to kiss u but he’s just usually not a show-ey person.

too many times have the two of u attempted to sneak away to be romantic alone and gotten caught. whether it be lyla, esteban, daniel, or any of sean’s guy friends—they always tease u guys. lyla is so dramatic and she’d probably do the most, screaming and squawking when all she sees is sean hugging u 😭

(Q) quizzes - how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?

just like i mentioned earlier, sean remembers every little thing. he knows which side of ur smile leans more toward, the distinctive mole on ur arm, etc etc etc. he loves u like how a husband with a camcorder loves his late wife <3

sean has pulled multiple joe goldbergs before u started dating. he will give u some small knick knack of ur favorite video game/show/band and ull thank him, visibly confused on when u mentioned it. hell notice and just go “i heard u talk about it like three months ago.” he only realizes HOURS LATER how creepy he sounded and his ass will start sliding down a wall dramatically in his room.

(R) rosy - what makes them blush?

sean is quick to blush. honestly, any time u guys are intimate in any sort of way his ears are probably burning up. he’ll try to hide that he’s nervous by giving u quick one-liners back but inside his heart is RACING.

(S) security - how protective are they? how would they protect you?

sean goes to great lengths to protect people he loves, like u. in relation to actual life is strange 2 lore, sean definitely does anything in his power to not involve u in the incident. if u try to contact him or find him, he’ll probably be EXTREMELY upset. at first, all he can think about is how much he wants u away from all this mess. he just wants u to live a normal life—and if that meant being far away from him he’d be okay with it. u would beg him to let u back in his life and eventually, with much hesitation, he’d oblige. keeping u alongside daniel on the road allowed u to see another side to sean. he had been hit and came back up so many times just for u. all he wants in his life is to keep u safe.

exempt from life is strange 2 lore, sean always does little things to keep u safe. there are many times where he treats u like daniel—aka a big baby LMAO. he’s big on acts of service as well so he’ll always make u walk on the inside of the sidewalk, hold ur hair away from ur face when it’s windy, help u jump off of places too high up, etc.

(T) try - how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

he’s so bf coded of course he puts maximum effort at all times! he gets crafty for you every anniversary—a collection of drawings of u and a curated playlist/burnt cd is the MINIMUM he’s capable of. he’s the kind of boyfriend that can actually pick up on subtleties. something u mentioned liking once? it’s now in his cart.

when sean feels like switching it up he’ll try to do things he’s not used to like pottery and completely fail 😭. he has some place in the back of his closet for all the clunky diy gifts he’s tried to make for u in the past. despite this, he’ll give u a perfect trinket dish and u’ll wonder how he’s so good at everything… well, one day in his room he’ll ask u to go get something from his closet. u go inside and see a cardboard box with 15 versions of that very same trinket dish he made.

(U) understanding - how well do they know their partner?

sean does his best at understanding you as a person. when u talk about complicated emotions and unique experiences he doesn’t quite share, he’ll have this really pensive expression. he nods along and tries to understand ur perspective to the best of his ability. because of this, its really easy to open up to sean.

sean has you down to a T. hes so so so perceptive and knows when u feel uncomfortable. a small falter in ur smile, the glossy glint in ur eyes, ur lip quivering, he sees it ALL. he will immediately try to get u out of whatever situation ure in.

(V) vanity - how concerned are they with looks?

he could give less than two farts tbh. he loves when u look like a mess, more drawing opportunities for him. he however will make a big deal about looking good in front of u. he will be styling his hair for an hour in front of the mirror before going on a date with u, hogging the bathroom. he also practices the way he approaches u and lays out his outfits to impress u LMAO.

(X) xtra headcanon

sean loves cats so much. if u have a cat, he will spend the whole time at ur house trying to befriend them. bro will be crawling all over ur house on all fours... it gets to the point where u guys can never pass by a petsmart without sean making an impromptu visit to see the cats. plus, u guys have matching cat profile pictures!!!

(Y) yearning - how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

sean coops up and calls and texts u as much as u can. its to the extent where he will send u nonsensical texts just so he can open ur guys' chat. ur phone will be vibrating so much and out of curiosity ull open it to just see random symbols and letters strung together. he'll send u random photos throughout the day that remind him of u and make unplanned video calls. u guys do mundane tasks together in silence for HOURS. they never fail to end with him just falling asleep on call.

(Z) zzz - what are their sleep habits?

sean is NOT a morning person. because daniel’s usually the one that wakes him up, he will slam a pillow into ur face when ur just trying to wake him up. he will open his eyes to see u and mumble a “shit sorry…” and snake his hand around u back into bed. he will hold u PRISONER under those sheets. if u try to shuffle out he will snake another arm around u. u're essentially held hostage until sean decides he wants to set u free... cruel world.

unfortunately i feel like this is very lackluster and COULDVE BEEN BETTER idk. also not proofread so sorry if this was... inchuresting to read... it also sucked me dry so i think i may have to start writing ACTUAL fanfics instead of hcs😢😢😢 thank u if u did enjoy though...

#life is strange 2 #sean diaz #sean diaz hcs #sean diaz x reader #daniel diaz #esteban diaz

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luveline · 11 months

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Hi I’ve never actually sent a request before so I hope I’m doing this right lol. I was so excited when I saw you wanted to more writing for the Steve zombie au before the established relationship. I die for grumpy pining. I was thinking maybe more reluctant comforting like maybe a thunderstorm or something or honestly just whatever you see fit. I love your writing and your Steve is unmatched. Either way request taken or not I’m sending all the love and good vibes.

hi! thank you for your request my love! steve zombie au —you and steve are surviving together when a freak storm begins, and he can’t stop himself from trying to make you feel better. fem!reader

"In," Steve ushers quickly, "in, in!"

You force yourself through a gap that's too small for you into the warehouse you've found and out of the rain, an instant bruise forming on your shoulder. You understand his hurry, but it really does hurt. He has similar trouble forcing himself inside.

Thunder cracks behind him. You jump hard at the sound. "It sounds like it's right on top of us," you say.

"It might be. Come on," he says, taking your arm into his icy hand, "this way."

Worried that the storm might be winds from a hurricane at the East Coast, you and Steve had immediately abandoned your plan to start walking up highway I-69 and backtracked to the last building you'd seen on the way, a packing house for toiletries. You hadn't bothered coming inside beforehand, neither of you in want of any necessities that aren't canned goods (or, imagine, fresh food).

You wish you had. Not only would the storm have started while you were already sheltered, but you might have been able to navigate the absolute shitshow of a floor plan without nearly breaking your neck.

You slip on a greasy patch of floor and Steve yanks you up. He doesn't do it to be cruel; if he hadn't pulled hard you would've fell flat on your face.

"Shit," he hisses.

"Sorry–"

"No, just– come on, this way," he says.

His hair is plastered to his face, soaked despite the hood of his coat and the beanie he'd been wearing, The rain is torrential and freezing cold, carrying a chill that permeates down to the bone. You're less wet than he was, as he'd taken the tarp you sleep under from his backpack and made you wear it like a poncho.

You don't know if he hates you, when he does stuff like that. He certainly doesn't like you. You figure he resents you for saving his life and not having the grace to insist you part ways. How could you? Everybody was running away, fleeing from the geek cul-de-sac Indiana had become, and nobody who wanted anything to do with you had survived the initial wave. You'd been completely alone, terrified, and you'd risked your life to save him anyways. So when he asked if you were alone, you were honest. When he said, You better come with me, then, you didn't think about it for a minute.

He probably regrets it in moments like this. And it's worse because you like him. Hero worship, maybe, Steve keeps keeping you alive and you want him to like you more and more every day.

It's why you hate fucking up. You just want him to see you properly, and not as a girl he has to protect. You want him to know you can protect him back.

You take the initiative and lead him toward the back of the huge room. He doesn't protest. You figure a corner of the structure would be safer than the middle where the ceiling could sag, and away from the centre of the walls where big windows lined with metal shutters sit.

Together, you knock coffee pots and plastic cups off of a long table and drag it toward the corner to use as a make shift shield. It's the most protection you can get.

You sit down, relieved. It can't be ten seconds until your body remembers how cold it is, soaked as you are.

You already know what to do, and despite the shyness that comes with stripping in front of a boy, and especially a boy that you like, you undress anyways. Shoes first, then your coat. Steve starts to do the same, and you try not to look at one another.

There are lots of things you worry about, but the stupidest one is body hair. You can't help it —when hair removal is engrained in the feminine experience from birth, it becomes a habit. It's not even that you think it's bad, but you worry that Steve thinks it's gross. Then you remember how many times you've heard one another pee and shake your head at yourself.

"What's wrong?" Steve asks, shirtless as he pulls his second (and last) pair of jeans over tacky legs.

You're shirtless too. "Nothing."

"Your bra is wet."

You look down at your bra and blink. It's cold, and everyone knows what happens when it's cold and you're braless. "It's the only one I have, I don't wanna flash you."

"You…" He cracks a very rare smile. It's a twitch of the corner of his lips and nothing more, but it helps you to relax. "I'm not trying anything, but you should take it off. You can wear my hoodie if you're uncomfortable."

"I guess it's dumb to care."

"I don't think it's dumb," he says, his head craned as another crack of thunder bellows outside. "You deserve to feel comfortable. I won't look, I swear, I just don't want you to be cold." He looks away from you. "You'll get sick. Then we'd be really fucked."

You nod. You slip out of your bra and put on your second (and last) t-shirt, which is thinner than the first. You shove your arms in his hoodie but don't zip it closed.

Steve takes the blanket from his pack and, now wearing his shirt and fresh socks, slots himself next to you and pulls the blanket over your laps. It's an odd juxtaposition: he worries about your privacy but not your personal space.

"I think it's getting worse," you mumble, head tilted to the side as you listen to the wind roar.

"We'll be okay."

You put your hand on your thigh. He puts his hand on his. You slouch against the wall and know you won't be getting any sleep tonight, not while the wind rails.

Time passes like a dragging weight. You wince at every loud whoosh of air, and can't help leaning into Steve's side when somewhere in the warehouse a machine begins to creak. The cold bites your nose, and your toes are stiff despite your new socks.

You and Steve don't talk much, but eventually he speaks up.

"Do you need another pair of socks?" he asks.

"No, it's okay."

"I won't mind," he says.

"What if you need them?"

He gets them out of his pack and tosses them into your lap. You take them, but the wind has seized you up, afraid that any minute now you'll get a storm surge.

"Hurricanes can't get this far in, can they?" you ask quietly.

"No. I don't think so."

You nod your head. "It's loud."

"I know."

You put his socks on and try to be level-headed. You think it might be the constant heavy stress that surviving in the wild and against the threat of flesh-eating creatures has put you under that's made you so fragile. A storm wouldn't have scared you this severely before. But your brain is under fire basically every second of the day, even in your sleep, and it weakens your resolve. You've never understood how Steve can be strong in the face of all this awful.

"It'll be okay," he says again.

"No, I know…" you say. You don't know, but you don't want to bother him. "I'm fine."

Thunder cracks at exactly the wrong moment, simultaneous with a sound like a window rattling in its frame. You flinch at his side, your hand jumping on his thigh.

You go to pull it away and he flattens it to his leg.

"It's okay," he says, his sternness melting into a softer reassurance. His hair lays in damp curls below his ears, and his face is pale from a lack of sun. "It's just wind. We don't get hurricanes, and if we did, the walls are concrete. You think wind and rain can get through three feet of stone?"

He lets your hand go. You take it as a queue to remove it.

"Sorry, I don't know why I…"

Steve clears his throat. "You're not–" He couldn't know what you were going to say about yourself, and you have no idea what he might've said himself. "You don't have to be sorry. For this, anyways. You should be super sorry about other stuff, like losing your pen knife, and trying to convince me to eat that frog," —he pauses as you laugh, the hint of a smile playing on his lips— "but don't bother being sorry about this."

"People eat frogs," you say quietly, leaning your head against the wall and looking at him through one eye.

He follows your example and sits the same. After a moment, he pulls the slipped blanket up to your stomach again. "I don't care what people eat. I'm not eating frogs."

"I didn't want to eat one either," you say. You hadn't. "They do eat them, though."

"I'm sure they do. Cooked, and with spices. Not raw and covered in dirt. And dead."

You'd only been joking about eating the frog, but you were both hungry enough to stare at it for a half-second too long.

Rain drums the ceiling like a far away thrumming. You know you must look awful, wet and dirty. You'd managed to brush your teeth this morning at the very least, but you can't imagine you're the kind of girl Steve would ever want, then or now.

His gaze dips to your neck. It rests there.

"I'm not just saying it to make you feel better," he says, stilted once again. "Things… things will be okay. They'll get better. We have to make it out of here."

Steve has people he needs to find. You'll follow him anywhere at this point, not for love, but he's a good guy, even if he glares more than he talks. He knows how to protect you both. He does stuff he doesn't have to do, like this. His vaguely awkward comfort. His extra socks.

"I know," you say. "We'll be fine."

He nods. You tell yourself that you're imagining the tenderness he puts into such a simple gesture. “Exactly. You worry too much.”

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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corruptedcaps · 5 months

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The Mean Manual

“64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69…. Done!” Charlotte groaned as she finished her 10th straight day of her bust exercises. She stretched out her remarkably flexible body and looked lovingly at her big tits. She almost couldn’t believe that two weeks ago she had the body of a flabby no chested geek but that was before she found, the book.

Back then she was know as Charlie, a girl so anonymous you could ask her classmates what she was like and they would reply with, “Who?”

Charlie wasn’t noticeable enough to be bullied, didn’t stand out enough to be noticed, a quiet solitude she had grown to accept. She would spend her free time in the school library, reading her fantasy and sci-fi books away from the crowds.

However that changed when she found, hidden behind several books in the reference section, the ‘Mean Manual’. Its cover was a bright pink that almost glowed amongst the drab covers it surrounded that made it hard for Charlie to ignore.

Pulling it out she blew away the dust that had accumulated over years maybe even decades of neglect. Charlie opened the tome and curiously flipped through its pages. It seemed to be some sort of guide to becoming the ‘Queen of Mean’.

Charlie chuckled to herself as she skimmed its pages, realizing it had to be some sort of parody book. How could it not be with chapters like ‘Spreading lies to get your way’ and ‘The 10 ways to steal a man’. It was laughable to her that anyone would take the instructions as gospel.

Amused by it, she decided to take it home and read some more. It was there that she came across the chapter on ‘beauty exercises’. There was sections on toning your stomach, getting the perfect tan, how to make your body more supple, but what weirdly interested Charlie was the section on breast growth.

As the other girls in school had all hit puberty and grew reasonable and sometimes outrageously sized tits, Charlie had lagged behind, growing no more than an ‘A’ cup. It wasn’t something Charlie ever cared about, most people didn’t notice her anyway, and yet she found herself reading the instructions on how to increase her boob size intently.

“I’ll give it a try, just as a joke of course.” She said to herself with a half hearted laugh as she readied her body. The excercise involved getting on her knees and pushing out her chest 69 times, which seemed intuitive enough if a little juvenile but what was odd was she had to moan each time she did it. She felt a little silly as she began.

However with thrust of her chest her moans got a little louder, a little more genuine. It felt good sticking out her chest again and again, it felt as though her whole body was getting a workout. She couldn’t help imagine how good it would be to have the perfect tight body with perfect round tits, she found herself getting wet with each shove of her chest. She went into a near trance as she went on and before she knew it she hit 69 thrusts.

She panted in pleasurable exhaustion as she shakily got back to her feet, feeling warm and wet between her legs. She stumbled over to the mirror and gasped loudly at the sight. Her meagre breasts were gone, replaced with impressively big tits.

“No freaking way!” She said as she turned each way to make sure it wasn’t some mirror illusion but there was no denying it, her boobs were bigger.

She eyed the book out of the corner of her eye, maybe it wasn’t a joke after all, she thought. She looked at her reflection and couldn’t help wonder what she would look like with the long nails, the silky hair, the smooth skin and everything else it purported to be able to give her. She had to know.

An hour and several exercises later, Charlie was looking at a practically different woman in the mirror. Her body wouldn’t have looked out of place on a runaway, there wasn’t an ounce of imperfection anywhere now. She could bend and flex in ways that would make the Hailey the head cheerleader jealous.

A smile started to cross her lips as the idea of making a bitch like Hailey green with envy suddenly made her horny. He mind went to wicked places as she thought about doing more than making her jealous.

She imagined strutting in to school the next day, in a tight shirt outfit, all eyes on her but she would be focused on only one set of eyes. Chad, Hailey’s boyfriend, was a big block headed idiot but did anything Hailey asked. If she could seduce him, she’d have the school in the palm of her hand.

“When I seduce him.” She corrected herself with a smirk, after all no one would be able to resist her looking the way she did now. She’d take Hailey’s friends, her cheerleading position, her power. It would be so easy and fun.

She started to move her fingers down her body towards her increasingly wet pussy when she stopped herself. Something didn’t feel right, why was she thinking such cruel and nasty things?

As if to answer her, a sudden gust of wind started to flicker the pages of the book back to the opening, where ‘Queen of Mean’ was emblazoned in large letters. Charlie drank in the word ‘Queen’ again and again. It seemed to almost put her in a trance as she put her hand into her panties.

As soon as her hand made contact with her soaking wet pussy a sinister grin came across her face.

“Ohhhh fuck yes!!! More, more! I want to be a fucking bitch called Charlotte not some loser nobody called Charlie. Make me a toxic slut, make me a wicked whore, make me the Queen of Mean!” She moaned loudly as she pumped her pussy again and again, her nerdy persona getting weaker each time she did.

The book began to glow bright pink as she continued and Charlotte had an innate knowledge of what it was doing.

“Yesss take my pathetic soul, make me evil and bitchy, I’ll be hot, corrupt and unstoppable!” She moaned thrusting her chest out as if it was being pulled up. She watched in malicious joy as her soul was ripped from her body and sucked into the book. She felt free of morals and doubts as she began to cum harder and longer than ever before.

As the book slammed shut, a surge of dark energy enveloped her newfound form. Her eyes glowed for a moment a deep crimson before settling back into a cold icy blue. A wicked smile curled on her lips as the transformation completed. She reveled in the intoxicating power coursing through her veins, ready to unleash chaos upon the unsuspecting world.

“Bye bye Charlie you fucking dork nobody. No one will miss you and even remember you when I walk into school tomorrow. It’s going to feel so hawt and nasty taking everything Hailey has, in fact why wait until tomorrow.” She said to herself as she picked up her phone and snapped a sexy selfie of herself.

With an evil grin she started to text Chad: “Hey! I got your number from the school secretary. I’m, like, the new girl in school and she said you would be able to show me around and stuff? It would be totes amazing if we could do something tonight? I’m so alone xxx.” She wrote sending it along with her picture.

She smirked to herself as he quickly replied and made plans to meet up asap. Within the hour she was sucking his dick in the back of his sports car and cementing her hold on him. As soon as she had swallowed his load she dropped her cutesy bimbo act and became more demanding of him. He of course would do anything she asked now.

Now ten days later and Charlotte was the most feared and popular girl in school. Everyone knew her name now and there was no way she would ever fade into the background with her commanding presence and bitchy hot body.

She didn’t know if she needed to continue doing her stretches and exercises to maintain her evil sexiness but she did them all the same, enjoying the wave of pleasure each would give her. The book seemed to glow happily each time she did as well but she could sense it was growing hungry for more. It had opened one day on a page marked “Beta Bitches”, giving Charlotte the guidance and knowledge with what to do next.

“Hello girls, welcome to tryouts to be my new friends.” She announced to a group of nerdy girls who had all been lured to Charlotte’s house under the pre-tense that Charlotte would stop bullying them if they did. And for some of them that would soon be true. “You are all pathetic losers right now, adrift, invisible. But after today some of you will be getting a new wonderful purpose; worshipping me. Now do as I do and try and keep up.” Charlotte said to a sea of bewildered faces as she began doing her stretches and one by one they each followed suit.

Charlotte’s book began to glow…

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #corrupted book

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horseshoegirl · 9 months

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Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 15 - Have You Ever Seen The Rain

📖I need to make two apologies. First, I am so sorry for the long delay. While work was beating my ass, I actually received a rude comment on my Wattpad account for the last chapter that triggered a horrible writer's block. It was taken care of, and it didn't bother me at the time, but I didn't realize how much it affected me until I started to write. Then I decided to use it for inspiration!

Secondly, I'm so sorry for what is about to unfold. This one was planned from the get-go (which is also probably why I struggled because this is the one chapter I dreaded having to write).

(I'll be running from the pitchforks as they come, Woot Woot!)

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child, Shitty family dynamics, Angst, verbal fights, sexist implications, one slap across the face, and Jake being Hangman.

#6k words

Part 14 | Masterlist | Part 16

The story behind how you started ego-checking some of the cocksure pilots at Hard Deck is less interesting than one might think.

It all started with a game.

You weren't kidding when you told Jake you were a library, loving geek who'd rather spend her time deep in the stacks. That was the plot of your entire post-secondary experience. You didn't know how to flirt. You stayed clear of frat parties and cliquey groups. And if a guy tried to flirt with you, you ran for the freaking hills without a backward glance.

You only decided to take that bartending job in building H's damp, dark basement because you were dead-ass broke. But the thing about being a bartender on a University campus, there were moments when you had nothing but time on your hands.

You had to get creative.

Looking back, you would blame the writer-orientated part of your mind that decided to create that little game of making up stories for the people who regularly visited the miserable bar.

The quiet girl, always sitting in the back corner, cramming for a test or writing a paper. Did she like the ambience, or was she avoiding the library? Or was she trying to work up the nerve to ask out one of the bussers, waiting for the perfect meet cute?

Maybe the nerds who gathered every Friday at the arcade-style game consoles playing Pac-Man needed to leave their dorm because Friday nights tended to be the one night everyone liked to party.

Those popular girls sitting around a table with their $5 cocktails, lowcut tanktops, and jean shorts, always on their phones gossiping over the latest social media post from their favourite celebrities. Did they have Regina George in their ranks? Which one was sleeping with the other's boyfriend? How much blackmail did they have on each other?

Which one would murder the other first?

That little game you invented for yourself got you out of your shell. It also made it easier to deal with the persistent football jocks who'd try to flirt with you for a free shot.

Ridley would always get a kick out of it whenever you told her. You'd always imagined her curling up in a ball and kicking her feet back and forth while she squealed in laughter over the phone.

"Be a character in one of your freaking stories. Or better yet, act it out! You're a damn writer, Lizzie."

She was right. So you did.

You'd never forget the laughter of that football jock when your rejection of his flirting attempts to weasel a free drink out of you resulted in his childish reply of, "Well, nobody's perfect, Sweetheart, least of all you."

"I never said I was," you had said with a smile.

You must have said something right because a few minutes later, Penny was introducing herself and chatting you up, asking if you wanted a better job bartending.

You were all too happy to leave. But nothing could have prepared you for the hotshot, ego-driven, and stupidly horny Top Gun pilots who frequented the Hard Deck.

Between remembering their drink order or what side of the room they tended to gravitate towards, you needed more than your little guessing game to figure out their tells. You did pick up little things about them, though.

The WSOs were the kindest; ironically, they stood out in the crowds. Always a kind smile, never a bad thing to say about anyone.

The female pilots were always badass. At least, you thought so. Strong. Always commandeering the room the second they walked in. Always nice, no question about it. But mess with them; you got schooled hard.

They were the literal definition behind the saying, 'Do no harm, but take no shit.'

And with each new group that came in, the male pilots, the single flyers you had called them, paled compared to those jocks. They never changed. A pair constantly vied for first place with each new group that came through the Top Gun program.

Always a pair of males. Women always knew there was more at stake than a freaking trophy.

Those guys talked to you. Well... properly flirted at you.

That's where your little game came in handy. Picking out the little things about them, letting your mind do the creative parts next. It's how you turned Jake down so quickly that first time.

But the guy currently approaching the bar? He did not fit the bill of any regular customer you had seen in a while.

Tourists came and went without question. They stood out like a pack of flies, unsure where to go, with friendly faces and always asking what the best places were. They tipped great, and they never returned.

This guy?

Not a tourist.

He was from out of town. The plaid shirt, jeans and cowboy boots were unusual for a California bar. It was also how he gaped at the walls and ceiling, taking in all the Navy memorabilia Penny had collected over the years. If you hadn't been paying attention, you could have sworn there was a look of distaste on his face with each new item he saw.

But what irked you was the sense of familiarity you couldn't place while looking at him. Blonde hair and a sharp face. Something in how he carried that toothpick between his teeth, not in the way god forbid fucking Tyler had, but as if it was a piece of grass. Also, in the way he walked.

Then he openly leered at a woman's ass as she walked by, and it all made sense.

Ah, a Wham, Bam, Thank You, Mam.

He sat in the empty chair directly in front of you, still watching the women's retreating form. You didn't want to serve him, but a tiny part of you hoped your assumption had been wrong.

It had been a while since you had to rebuff flirty advances; the newer pilots going through the Top Gun Program hardly said anything to you except smile and relay their order.

You suspected Jake was behind it.

"What can I get you?" you smiled at the guy. He slowly pulled his eyes away with a sly grin. The second he caught sight of your face, his mouth stretched even wider as he leaned forward on the bar.

"Your number and the name of a good hotel."

You should have known better.

If it looked like a duck, it quacked like a duck too.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you straightened the line of shot glasses under the bar, not once looking up as you answered him. "Well, I can answer one out of two of those questions, but I'm afraid the only hotels around here are resorts. There is a bed and breakfast about ten minutes down the road that will give you a good deal."

"Will they give me a good deal if I mention your name?"

"Only my friends know my name, and you are simply a customer sitting at my bar wanting a drink?" you raised your eyebrow, tapping your finger against the bar.

He made a show of thinking about it, rocking his shoulders back and forth. He finally nodded, leaning forward to answer you.

"Whiskey. Straight."

You recognized his accent as you reached beneath the bar to grab the bottle. It was more pronounced and slightly more profound, but without a doubt, he sounded like Jake.

Good old southern Texas Charm.

Normally you'd engage in small talk, but you wanted nothing more than to leave this asshole alone. Thinking he'd leave it be after you poured him his drink, you slid the glass forward, then made your way over to the other side of the bar.

The words he called out after you made you stop in your tracks.

"You must get attention all the time. Having your pick of the litter each year."

You whipped around, offended. " Are you calling me easy?!"

He shrugged. "I'm just saying a good-looking woman like yourself, in this place... you clearly aren't sticking around because of the pay."

Oh, you wanted this guy gone. That could have been one of the most double-standard comments you had ever received. Old Liz would have sputtered, maybe run into the back fridge and asked one of the other bartenders to handle it.

You now? No chance in hell. If he were going to give it, you would give it right back. You weren't going to play the boyfriend card. You could fight your own battles, and something told you even if you told him you had a boyfriend, he'd think you were lying. He seemed like the type that wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You've got some nerve." You crossed your arms, matching back to him from the other side of the bar. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not here because I'm looking for attention or have trouble finding a date. You've spent all of two minutes sitting at this bar, talking shit, while I've been fighting the urge to point out your confusion regarding basic anatomy."

He raised his eyebrows at your reply. "My confusion?"

You leaned forward, resting your arms upon the bar, eyeing him sourly. "Is your mouth your asshole, or are you just one?"

It was one of the more cruder remarks you had ever responded with. But this guy was trying to go for gold. Unphased, he leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. "Hey, no need to be aggressive. You should take it as a compliment. I never called you anything derogatory."

You huffed, pushing yourself away from him, rolling your eyes. "Calling me good-looking, then proceeding to say I'm only working here because it's 'easy to access' is still calling a woman a slut. You don't need to say the word to imply the meaning."

You ripped the dishrag from your shoulder, running it under the tap, muttering more to yourself, "There's no way that shit works on women."

"It does on the women back home," he answered you.

"Oh, so are you staying? Don't tell me you're a new pilot at Top Gun."

They'll beat that attitude right out of you.

"Oh, I'm just passing through. I figured I'd scout out the area. I heard this was a Navy bar. Don't understand what all the fuss is about."

You didn't answer him. Opening your mouth only led to him replying, and the quicker he finished his drink, the faster he'd leave. He took your silence as a means to continue.

"Still playing hard to get?"

"You ask me a question. I might choose not to answer."

"Wow. Subtle."

You turned, a hand on your hip. "You can't honestly expect me to speak to you, a complete stranger, after the way you just undermined my job because I'm not giving to your attempts. There is nothing to get."

He smiled, holding out his hand. "George Seresin. There, not a stranger."

Well, shit.

You wanted to hang your mouth open like a fish. You were staring down Jake's brother.

Now you understood Jake's reaction to Janet's warning. His anxious behaviour in the back of his truck. His lost-in-thought stares or the way he couldn't stop looking at you and Sadie when he came home from work this week.

George Seresin was a very unwelcome, uninvited and long-awaited guest.

Something snapped in your stomach, a twinge of weariness that Jake didn't confide in you. Then again, your slight disappointment was overshadowed by something greater.

Clearly, you were fated to ego-check both Seresin brothers while standing behind this bar. Because the idea came without warning, without doubt, or any sense of hesitancy.

George Seresin was at the Hard Deck.

He was right in front of you, trying to flirt with you without any idea who you were.

And he was sitting in the best spot in the entire place.

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You stepped backwards, turning to lean up against the bar. As you did with Jake all those months ago, you took the rag and started to wipe.

"So let me get this straight," you said, dragging the damp cloth around his glass, not once looking up. "I tell you my name in some effort to prove we are not strangers. I'm supposed to forget about your 'comments,' so you can use that good old Texas charm to woo me into your bed with a promise of a good time?"

You finally looked up, George only staring back at you with a heated smoulder.

"Something tells me none of those loose cannons cannot even promise you a good time. A quick roll in the sheets before they let some brass monkey in a fancy suit tell them where to shoot. You look like you could let loose for once in your life."

You froze, losing your grip on the rag and fingers twitching. Scanning Jake’s brother, you leaned against the bar, resting your weight on your elbows, throwing the fabric over your shoulder as you got inside his bubble. You never once broke eye contact as you pinned him down.

George bought it, hook, line and sinker. He was so focused on you and your face that he was oblivious to everything and everyone around him, including how your hand slowly reached up toward the rope hanging from the top of the bar.

The second he looked at your lips, you tugged.

Cheers and music flooded the Hard Deck when everyone heard the distinct ring of the barbell. You guessed the song right away, old habits dying hard. Slow Ride, its distinct beat letting you know Jake was here and he had seen the whole thing.

George reeled back, shocked as a few people came up and slapped him on the back, thanking him. You laughed softly at his reaction, pushing yourself away to help the few customers you knew who would take advantage of the free drink.

You had never rang the bell for someone like him. George Seresin would be the only exception.

"What the hell just happened?" he called after you. You didn't bother turning around, flinging your hand to gesture over your head, "Read the sign!"

George followed the direction of your hand, landing on the piece of wood dangling by the silver chain.

You disrespect a lady, the navy, or you put your cell phone on the bar, you buy a round.

You had already helped a few customers when he managed to tear his eyes away to glare at you heatedly. You turned to face him with a gleeful grin. Instead of asking him which one he thought you rang him out for, you started teasingly singing along to the chorus.

You hadn't done that in a while. It felt good.

"What did he do to warrant that?"

You smiled up at Jake as he approached the bar. He never took his eyes off you as he leaned on his elbow against the top of the bar beside George.

"What do you think?" you laughed at him.

Jake smirked. "I'd say he didn't take no for an answer."

"He did a little more than that. Tell him to put his cell phone on the bar, and he'd get three out of three."

"Ouch," Jake dramatically drawled. He finally turned his head, nodding once in his brother's direction. "Hi, Georgie."

You stiffed a giggle.

George huffed, jutting his chin out in your direction. "This one is trouble."

"Don't I know it," Jake said, looking back at you. "Pulled the same trick on me the first time I met her. Only she didn't ring the bell. Guess I did something right, considering she let me come back."

George glanced between you and Jake several times, and you could see the gears grinding in his head.

"Hi," you beamed at him, walking over and holding out your hand. "Elizabeth Beck. Your brother's girlfriend. I guess we aren't strangers after all."

George stared down at your hand, then gritting his teeth, knocking back another gulp of whiskey. He spat out his following words with the glass still to his lips, "So you are real. Jake, there's no way you're dating her."

You didn't try to hide the snark from your voice as you lowered your hand. "You thought I was imaginary? Sorry to disappoint."

George still chose to ignore you. "What's the matter, little brother? Need your girlfriend to speak for you?"

Jake stiffened, and it took everything in you not to ring the bell once more. Cause you knew if you did, Jake would be the one to help throw George out, and you didn't know what repercussions he could face.

"At least he has a girlfriend," you scoffed. "I can't imagine you've ever had a meaningful relationship with how you treat women."

You spied his empty whiskey glass, grabbing it firmly.

"Wham."

Sliding it across the bar's smooth surface, you caught it in the palm of your other hand.

"Bam."

Reaching into the pocket of your apron with your free hand, you slapped his bill down in front of him, rounds and all, attempting your best version of a Texan accent.

"Thank you, Mam."

Not wanting to waste more time on him, you turned to Jake, slightly worried. Some of you didn't know how to act around Jake when he was like this. When he was so... Hangman.

You gently touched his wrist, murmuring softly, "I'll see you in a half hour?"

He twisted his arm in your grasp, sliding his hand down so he could gently squeeze yours. But his eyes screamed a different, intense, unsettling story. As if he was assessing you for any threat.

"Sure."

You tried not to let it bother you, his non-chalent reply. Trying not to frown, you let go of his wrist to serve another customer, calling out as you walked away, "It was nice meeting you, Georgie!"

Jake watched you go with a slight turn of his head, proud you one-upped his brother but wishing you didn't leave him alone.

He knew why George was here. What he wanted him to do. No amount of smirk, cockiness, or even Hangman, could save Jake from this. George was the grave reminder that no matter where the Navy sent him, whether in California or on the other side of the world, there was no end to the metaphorical leash the 'hell bringer' had on both of his sons.

George scraped his chair back to stand. "Come on, little brother," he gruffed out, tossing his credit card onto the bar. "We need to have a chat."

—-

With Ridley's Jean jacket in hand and your bag, you placed them on the bar as you greeted Jimmy after finishing your shift. "Can you watch these for a second, Jimmy? I'm just going to the bathroom before I find Jake. We're going to pick Sadie up from Penny's and take her out for dinner."

The older man smiled. "She's feeling better?"

You nodded. "Mild concussion. She was okay after a few days and back at school. Bummed about not being able to play in soccer playoffs, though. Hence the trip."

"That girl loves her soccer. What a shame."

"Jake's is making it easier on her. I don't know what I would do without him."

He tilted his head towards the bathroom hall with a knowing grin. "Go get ready for your date."

You blushed, walking away, calling over your shoulder, "It's not a date!"

After freshening yourself up, you took a few moments to stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You saw the famous callsign board hanging on the wall behind you. You scanned the names from the mirror, looking for Jake's, doing a double take when you couldn’t find it. You turned, properly facing the wall.

Like the sign in the bar, it was a piece of wood with the words engraved into the top, “Ladies Beware: Navigate the Hard Deck with Care!” and underneath that, “Pilots who fly solo.” Several metal slots were glued to the surface, designed so she could easily slide plastic slate with a pilot’s callsign into place.

You recognized a few, even Rooster's, though his was listed way further down, out of harm’s way. But Jake's was nowhere to be found.

Then you realized - Penny had taken his name off.

She didn't do that for a lot of people. You could only recall one other instance when she removed a pilot's callsign from that board. She prided herself on it, so much so she never removed Maverick's at the top of the list, even after they got back together.

You needed to tell Jake.

With a hint of a smile, you eagerly walked out of the bathroom to find him. He was standing with George at the pool table, the elder Seresin brother lining up a shot as he spoke. As you approached them, you honed in on Jake, realizing he looked uncomfortable. Stiff, shoulders square, and his fists were clenched tight.

The closer you got, the more you heard of their conversation, and when you heard Sadie's name fall from George's mouth, you froze. Hearing him utter her name, especially in that hardened tone, was a punch to the gut. The urge to hide behind one of the support pillars in the middle of the room at the last second was too great to ignore, and you made yourself as small as possible.

You had stumbled upon a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear. George’s voice accompanied the sound of the eight-ball scattering the balls across the table.

"Come on, man," he said, his tone laced with arrogance. "Think about it. She threw her whole life away for her niece. She's tied down now, and you deserve someone who can give you more than that."

Jake remained silent. George continued, encouraged by his lack of protest. "You're a Navy pilot, for crying out loud. You could have anyone you want. Why settle for a girl with so much baggage?"

You weren’t stupid. You knew enough about George to realize he was the golden child, the favourite used to getting his way. George would only see you as Jake’s attempt to one-up him on something.

“You know why I'm here,” you heard him say firmly. “Dad doesn’t approve. He wants you to know if you continue on with her, you will never be welcomed back home.”

You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your stomach. There would never be a time when you asked Jake to choose you over his family, even with what you knew. You wanted to go out there, but this was Jake’s battle. Storming out to threaten anything but a kick to the balls was out of the question.

But when Jake finally spoke, his words were like shards of ice piercing your skin.

"Yeah, you're right."

A strangled noise escaped from you, a sound of raw pain and disbelief. You clapped your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sob threatening to escape. George’s reply triggered the blood rushing through your ears, the pain in your forearm from your nails biting hard into the skin.

“You know I am,” he laughed, another clack of the pool balls sounding out. “

There was only one way you saw this - Jake played you like he played those other bartenders.

You couldn’t hide any longer. You pushed yourself away from the pillar, swerving around to confront them.

“So Sadie and I were just a game to you?”

Jake turned sharply, shock in his eyes. “Liz,” he held his hands out in front of him. “It’s not what…”

“Not what?” you said heatedly, tears streaming from your eyes. “I heard plenty!”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat, confronted with your beat red face and tears. You were not supposed to hear all that.

The shock on his face was not enough to erase the sting of his words.

"Come on, Liz. You don't understand... it's..."

"What's there to understand, Jake?" you interjected, your voice seething with a volatile mix of pain and anger. "That I'm just another one of your bartenders?"

“Liz, don’t.”

“Enlighten me, Jake.” You crossed your arms. “Tell me all the reasons why. That bringing me flowers wasn’t a game. That getting close to my niece wasn’t a game. Asking me to give you a chance, taking me out on a date.”

You sobbed. “Taking me up in that damn plane.”

The thought was erupt, tearing itself from the deepest part of your mind. You couldn’t help it, the words spilling out in blinded anger. “Was my grief an opportunity for you to get into my pants? Telling me it would be alright so you could leave me high and dry? Telling me it was going to be okay?”

There was a sudden shift in his expression, his gaze hardening. As if a switch had been flipped, the warm, understanding man you knew disappeared, replaced by a stranger draped in defensiveness and sarcasm.

"Oh, excuse me," he declared. "I didn't realize I was your knight in shining armour, rushing to your rescue the second you need all your problems fixed. The girl who never had a relationship, thinking a man would solve all her issues."

The words hit you like a physical blow, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. Jake's harsh gaze didn't match his usual soft and protective demeanour. It was like looking at a stranger, someone you didn't recognize. The man before you was not the Jake you'd fallen for.

This man reminded you of your father.

Was this his plan all along? You racked your mind, searching for any indication this had been coming. But what only stood out was Rooster's words echoing in your head where you found none.

Did you really only add your name to the list of women Hangman had pursued?

Because here and now, those months of working through the trauma of losing Ridley didn't matter.

Was anything about this past year even worth it? The moments you worked through when you would avoid anyone mentioning her because acknowledging her in the past tense was too much. Avoiding the things that reminded you of her. Till helped you through it.

She would know what to say right now. She would be the one beating his ass with verbiage and scathing remarks. She would nail the moment and get it right.

It hit you, the hidden weight of how desperately you missed her.

Suddenly, you were that girl again, starting her first shift in that basement bar, wondering what to say to the students who saw you as a mere bookworm with no character or class - because you couldn't compare to the girl sitting in the corner writing her paper, actually having the courage to ask that busboy out.

Or the geeks in the corner cheering as hard as they did when they beat their high score on the console, uncaring of strange looks. Or that girl, finally standing up to her 'so-called friends' when one had been spreading rumours and crude remarks about her to the others behind her back.

He really did leave you out to dry.

"Stay the fuck away from my niece," you managed to gasp through your tears. "And stay the fuck away from me."

You wanted to believe your assumption that Jake was merely putting on a front. Hangman, his alternate self, was his attempt at protecting himself.

You had a hard time doing so.

There, plain as day, across his face was the most condensing grin you had ever seen as he dramatically drawled out slowly, "No fucking problem, sweetheart."

You didn't believe in thinking about everything you regretted throughout your life. Ridley was the only exception; if you had done more, moved back home after school, or gone to the police the day you kicked Tyler out, maybe she'd still be here. You couldn't change what had happened in your life, so spending time thinking about it in the present wouldn't do you much good.

So it was no surprise to you when you followed through with your knee-deep reaction, your hand coming up out of nowhere, open and firm, slapping Jake hard enough across the side of his face, his head turning with the force of it.

You knew you shouldn't have. You weren't a violent person by any means. Next to Tyler, you never had raised a hand to anyone. You were too hurt to care you just slapped him.

That should have scared you shitless.

Rather than voice the obvious, you remained silent, allowing every repressed thought, every buried emotion to resurface.

Ridley - dead.

Sadie - hurt.

Tyler - lurking.

Bradley - damaging.

It was all too much.

George's figure stood out from behind Jake amongst your blurry vision, tears creating a vignette in your line of sight. You tore past Jake, sticking your finger out only to push George square in his chest. He stepped back at the force, hand shooting out to balance himself against the pool table.

Jake wouldn't have done that had George not shown up. Had he not played with Jake's emotions.

"You need a fucking ego check and to grow the fuck up," you seethed at him. "I don't know whose got your balls on a very tight leash, but you have no right to go around and fucking up other people's relationships."

George didn't answer you, taking his hand off the table to stand properly. You pressed him again. "Does it give you some sick fucking pleasure to hurt your brother? Dad loves me best, so I'm going to remind everyone just cause I can?"

George was still avoiding your heated glare, fixating on his football ring, twisting the piece of metal back and forth. It only pissed you off further.

"My eyes are over here, Jackass! Have the decency to look me in the fucking eyes when I'm talking to you."

If nobody had been watching when you slapped Jake, you clearly had their attention now. Even with the music blasting from the speakers, every conversation in the Hard deck had gone quiet. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, but you couldn't care less.

You were too far gone.

George slowly cocked his head to face you. Your breath was harsh, your body jolting with each gasp as you gave in to the anger. "My sister died, and I took in my niece. What's so fucking wrong about that? That I threw my life away, that I have no future?"

He shifted on his feet, about to transfer the pool stick into his other hand, when you reached out and snatched it out of his grasp, tossing it behind you with a clack.

"You're damn right I did! That's what you do for people you love. I would sacrifice my entire life so she could have hers. And I would do it again in a fucking heartbeat. I will stay on the other side of that bar for the rest of my so-called miserable life, getting catcalled and dealing with assholes like you if it gives her the best shot with the shitty hand she's dealt. You, George Seresin, have no right to judge the choices I've made in my life."

Your breathing was harsh, ribs aching with effort. Every vein, every pore, was consumed with pure white rage. And yet, you still found yourself growling out, "You have no right judging your brothers either."

Even after breaking your heart, you still stood up for Jake.

"He risks his life every single time he goes up in that jet just so the whole world can fucking survive. So you can go on day in and day out and let your father control what you want to do with your life. So you can gallant around letting someone who has lived their life decide what you do with the rest of yours? So Jake’s here for you to bully and control every time he comes home? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The burning sensation in your cheeks mirrored the fire in your eyes, unshed tears making them shine brighter. The salty sting of tears blurring your vision did little to diminish the searing gaze you levelled at George.

"My sister believed everyone deserved a chance. That people cared, regardless of what they did or who they were. I had forgotten that until my niece invited Jake to a barbeque, till she invited him on a hike because he was being treated differently. Despite what I heard and everyone telling me otherwise, listing off why I shouldn’t. That he will hurt me and my niece, and I still gave him a chance.”

Squaring your shoulders and balling your hands to fists at your side, you take a step forward, a dangerous glint in your eyes. You lean towards him, your face close enough to feel his breath, your jaw clenched and muscles tight.

"You are the first person ever to prove my sister wrong,” your voice is dangerously low, underlying anger accompanying each word. “You sure as hell don't deserve that sentiment."

As you stepped away, George lifted his head to glance around the room, everyone's eyes pinning him down. The older Top Gun instructors had stood at their tables and chairs, arms crossed. Some of the current students in the program also stood, the others sending him the most scathing glares they could manage. Even some regulars who weren't aviators were casting him a scornful glance.

You spun, ready to leave him in embarrassment and escape this literal fucking mess, when you caught Jake's bewildered gaze, his mouth hanging open in slight shock.

You weren't sure whether it was that look or the dying embers of your outburst that made you spin back around to snarl, "So, leave your brother the fuck alone! Live your own goddamn life without judging others for the choices they make! Cause you sure as hell don't know what it means to sacrifice something for those you love. If you need an example, look around this goddamn room."

Jake reached for your wrist as you charged toward the front door. The second you felt his touch, you shook your hand loose, a wrenching sob tearing through your chest.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

You didn't bother seeing his reaction to your remark, rushing to grab your bag and Ridley's jean jacket off the bar.

The skin around your wrist burned from his touch, the rough callouses once a comfort but now felt like coarse sandpaper. You wanted to get under a shower or jump in the sea, hoping to remove the feeling of every memory, kiss, and word.

God, you let him touch you. Do things with you.

You were going to throw up.

God forbid you didn't want to walk home. But you needed to go, be anywhere but here, and you didn't have your car. Barely keeping it together as you took off toward the door, you had half a mind to look up to watch where you were going, deaf to Jake's shouts of your name.

There was Bradley, sitting in the first booth by the door. His brow furrowed as you made your way over to him, probably having witnessed the ordeal. You were too upset even to question why he wasn't marching across the bar, ready to knock Jake to next Sunday.

It had been weeks since the fight, with no communication in between. But it was a distant memory compared to this.

It didn't matter what he implied. It didn't matter what happened in your hallway.

It didn't matter.

You just needed your friend.

With each step you took toward him, your shame only grew greater. You couldn't even look him in the eye when you stopped, standing next to his side of the booth, hugging yourself tighter.

"Can you take me home, Bradley? I don't want to be here anymore."

Bradley's opportunity to act smug had finally arrived. But he didn't do anything other than frown. Standing up from his booth, he threw a few bills onto the table before blocking everyone's view of you. He placed a comforting hand on your back, gently pressing you forward as he uttered quietly, "Of course I can, Liz."

You kept your head down as you stepped towards the door, but Bradley, so willing to help you without so much of an 'I told you so,' made whatever resolve you had, crumble. Your knees wobbled, and your heart dropped into your stomach. You fell, and Bradley's arm whipped out, gripping your hip and pulling you tight to his side to support your weight.

Burying your head into Bradley's shoulder, you hid your face. You didn't want to see the looks of everyone in the Hard Deck, whether pity, concern, or applause, as another wave of tears wrecked your body.

Closing your eyes seemed better than reliving the truth.

And because you kept them shut, you didn't see George place a hand on Jake's shoulder, preventing him from going after you. Nor did you see the look of devastation wreck his face; the weight of every wrong decision he had ever made coming back to haunt him.

Whether Jake turned on a dime to punch George square in the jaw, you heard none of it. You hadn't even bothered to turn back to look as Bradley carried you out the front door.

.... So... Who is going to pitchfork me first? 👀

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Part 16 - In the Blood coming soon

Wickett ;)

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

Text

Opposite Ends

Chapter One - Welcome to Hawkins High

C2 | C3 | C4 | C5 | C6 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C10 | C11 | C12 | C13 pt 1 | C13 pt 2 |

Chapter 2 is out now - enjoy Sunflowers, P. x 🌻

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship

Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since her freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.

The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.

What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending, fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.

Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content

Chapter word count | 3.2k word count

Chapter warnings | Mention of physical abuse & Drug use

Any & All comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | I really hoped you enjoyed it & if you read the entire chapter then thank you for reading! I plan on putting a lot of effort into this story so it may be slow going at first before we see some development between Eddie x y/n. Feel free to let me know what you think! Take care sunflower 🌻, P. x

Y/N | October 1985

It had not even surpassed a month since the quote 'Fire of Starcourt Mall devastates Hawkins' had been splayed across static ridden TV sets in almost every household as it broke across our dearest - and allegedly cursed -towns news headlines and quickly spiralled into a national sensation, the deaths of the flayed blamed on it.

I didn't have to imagine what people thought about that "poor dammed Hawkins town' when they saw the news, up until June I was of the same mind as the rest of the towns terrified residents. Housewives had huddle together in the aisles of Hawkins stores; heads close together as the whispers broke out above the white noise.

“Yes, that’s right, ever since that Byers boy went missing, nothing has been right and all of these tragic deaths. I’m telling you Helen; it almost devilish what’s been happening. Hawkins can’t catch a break, we’re cursed, cursed I tell you.”

And with those venomous words loudly whispered into the eagerly awaiting ears of the notorious town gossip, it had taken only all of an afternoon for that gossip to turn factual and become the opinion held in the highest regard by most residents. Unlike those oblivious to the actual truth, I liked to think I wouldn’t have been so naive and gullible to believe the theories circulating the grapevine, some even more farfetched and implausible than what actually occurred last summer.

Well, almost, I amended. Sometimes I wondered if I would have been better off being continually blissfully unaware of what was beneath my feet at this exact moment. But my brother Dustin and his nerdy friends had come to me for help, whirling me into the most thrilling and traumatising week of my life.

Somehow having read some Russian literature and being able to crack some stupid code that Dustin wouldn’t explain the importance of, corelated to me being stuck in a secret Soviet Russian base elevator underground the famous Starcourt mall. I had sat with my head between my knees for hours, the cold metal of the grates in the floor pushing into my thighs while Dustin explained the past 3 years of our lives from his point of view.

I couldn’t keep up with his voice. Between some band geek from school that I recognised by face only, rubbing my back and kept asking if I was going to hurl, Lucas Sinclair’s kid sister humorous running commentary interrupting Dustin’s story at points and Steve the freaking hair Harrington pacing with his hands on his hips, inspecting the roof and telling Dustin to hurry up. I cut him off halfway through telling a story of something called a Dart. His goofy grin faded from his face as I stood up quickly, rubbing my hand roughly against my eyes to push away the images his irrational words had painted.

“Let me see if I’ve got this.” I had started ticking off my fingers.

“Byers wasn’t lost in the woods but was in fact in some other underground dimension of Hawkins.”

“The upside down.” Dustin interrupted me.

I continued like I hadn’t heard him “There’s some girl with superpowers who always saves you guys, and there’s something called a demodorgan that eats people?” Dustin opened his mouth to correct me, but Steve beat him to it.

“We don’t have time for this dingus, in case you haven’t noticed we are stuck in a literal Russian based filled with soldiers that are probably going to shoot us the moment they find us.” His voice raised to an unattractive shrill at the end, I examined him closer, dressed in that dorky ice-cream uniform with panic plastered across his face it was hard to imagine that he had once been my biggest crush in middle school. Although I doubted I looked much better.

“One last thing.” I grumbled as my hands flailed at my sides.

“Everyone else, literally everyone else knew about this except for me?” I questioned the room, but my eyes were on my baby brother. Anger was coursing through me, but also shame, it was hard to not believe that what he was saying was true given where I was standing at that very moment, no matter how preposterous all of it sounded, but shame at the fact that he hadn’t included me in this earlier. That Steve the hair Harrington had been a better older sibling than I had, I had been too focused on getting the best grades in school and over analysing every interaction I had with Billy while giggling with my friends, to see what clearly had to be happening in front of my eyes.

In that moment I had thought our situation couldn’t get worse. But then Steve, myself and Robin the band geek had held onto each other like a lifeline as we were each interrogated by the Russian soldiers, while Dustin and Erica ran for help. And the lasting physical damage from that didn’t even begin to compare to the consequences after the events of the fire, consequences that we were all still dealing with to this day.

I would have happily taken beatings from trained six foot grown Russian soldiers for the rest of my life if it meant the Mind Flayer never came top side. If it meant that I would catch glimpses of bruised skin out of the corner of my eyes as I passed my reflection in the hallways at school, instead of black worming lines that weren’t really there, crawling over my cheeks and pouring into my head. It had taken weeks for me to convince myself that it was just remnants of PTSD, or whatever the school counsellor had called it, that was causing the fleeting images to stalk me during my waking hours and follow me into my nightmares, seemingly doomed to plague my broken, murky mind forever.

That was the funny thing about shared trauma, the bond it created with those involved. Even though half of the group was split in more ways than one, it was ironic that I’d complained about being left out of the loop for so long, only to be practically joined at the hip with the members of the group that remained behind in Hawkins after the fire.

Max and I had found comfort in each other’s presence, silently understanding each other’s feelings over Billy. Since her stepfather had left and she had moved to the trailer park with her mom it had become the daily routine to drive her to and from school together every day, her home was out of the high school bus route and even though it wasn’t that far of a walk, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her to her own devices.

As I drove to the trailer park Max and her mother resided in, my eyes came to rest on the clothes flapping on the washing line next to her home, as I turned my car off Curly road, down her street. The familiar gravel of the makeshift street crunching away under the tires. She was perched on the weathered steps, wearing Billy’s jacket as always and headphones already covering her ears. No doubt playing that new ‘Hounds of love’ album, I could hear it sometimes when Max was having a particularly bad day and she blasted it as loud as possible it on her Walkman. Probably to drain out whatever thought or memory harassed her, the first time I wanted to chastise her about making her eardrums bleed I caught myself. I did things I wasn’t supposed to, to block out my own demons. Who was I to judge about how Max dealt with hers.

“Y/N” Dustin pulled me out of my thoughts from the seat next to me as the rolled the car to a stop, Max pulled the back door open and slid into the seat, nodding her head as her morning acknowledgment. “You’ve been in the school for three years longer than me so you should know what clubs there are!” Dustin smacked his walkie and shoved the antenna down in frustration. ”Dammit Mike!” The asphalt flew away beneath the car as I pushed the gas pedal down faster. Itching to get the day over as fast as possible.

“Do I look like I’m even remotely interested in your nerdy stuff to even pay the slightest bit of attention to what clubs you might like?” Although it might have been a good idea to see what group I could off load my brother and Mike wheeler to, it was the last day of the first week of high school and they were still following me around like lost sheep. My senior year, the one where I needed to concentrate the most and I was stuck running a baby-sitting club. I rocked in my seat as we drove over the speedbump leading into the school’s carpark.

“What’s hellfire?” My neck snapped to look at Dustin.

“Wh – what?” I sputtered, “How do you know about them?” He pointed to a duo walking in the swarm headed to the school’s entrance. Gareth and Jeff I thought, but it was hard to tell from the distance, my eyesight was worsening, and I made a mental note to find my glasses in my bombshell of a room, sooner rather than later. Dustin must have seen their shirts.

“So?” He pushed, eyeing me curiously.

“I don’t know man, they’re a club I guess, they play some game...” I tightened my grasp on the wheel and looked over my shoulder to park.

“What game?” He drew out his question like he already knew the answer. I groaned internally already sensing where this was heading. Apparently so did Max.

“Bye.” She murmured as she slinked out of the backseat, sliding her bag up her shoulder and burrowing down into the safety of her oversized jacket.

"Some fantasy game” I shrugged nonchalantly as his eyes bulged in his skull. Killing the engine and gathering my stuff, I spoke before he could. “You’re staying away from them, Eddie Munson’s a member and he’s a freak.” I explained forcefully, the words burned my tongue on the way out, I was sure the words ‘hypocrite’ were plastered on my forehead.

“He’s a freak because he plays a game?” He scoffed looking at me disbelievingly, with traces of disdain.

I rushed to explain myself “No I just – he just – look, he’s dangerous and you aren’t to go near him, no discussion.” He just grinned and jumped out. Rolling down the passenger side window I shouted at his retreating back “No discussion!”

With robotical movements, ingrained from following the same path for almost four years, I made my way to my locker to grab the necessary books for my first class of the day. Ignoring the lingering and longing stares thrown my way, the whispers had dissipated weeks ago. New morsels of gossip were either discovered or created far too often to focus on any specific one to cause any real discomfort.

After the fire, everything had changed, it wasn’t just the physical impact it had. Anyone could see the holes that the deaths had created in Hawkins, but there was one that affected me more than anyone else's. Suddenly the basketball team wasn’t as loud, the hallways were missing a certain cologne and I still waited five minutes after the last bell rung to hear the smooth purr of an engine that would never roar to life again.

In the terms of Hawkins Highs newsletter, I may as well be a victim of the fire to. Sweet perfect Y/F/N didn’t care about cheerleading, or basketball, or parties, or boys or friends anymore. I was just an empty shell, an echo of the bright person they grew up with. They said Billy’s death changed me, that I was too heartbroken to continue on without him. They weren’t all wrong, loosing Billy, and – my heart squeezed painfully with the memories of what happened right after that - did change me. I would never admit it to listening ears, lest it get back to Max, but I was well and truly over Billy in a romantic sense. The past 4 months brought my inane problems and mundane life into excruciating clear focus, suddenly what I was going to wear to the after-game party didn’t matter. Graduating as soon as possible so I could escape the town that had its talons in deeper than just my skin - it had my soul in its grasp - was the most important purpose in my life.

That still didn’t stop my old friends from caressing at the surface, probing to see if I’d would come back to life. A strong hand slammed down on the locker next to me, sending a ringing in my ears and my carefully stacked books to clatter the floor. Sighing, I stilled the rattling open door of my locker.

“You coming to cheer me on tonight Y/N?” Jason Carver. His overpowering stench of expensive cologne and sweat after basketball practise assaulted my senses, invading my body and mind. I took an involuntary step back and crinkled my nose.

“Just like every other Friday you’ve asked me Jason, no. For the last time no.” His nonchalant laugh insulted the seriousness of my tone, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something lurking there.

“Come on, I know your squad misses you.” His voice was whiny as he reached behind my head to bring the end of my ponytail over my shoulder, the brush of his fingers sent a chill up my spine as he fiddled with the green ribbon tied there. I could feel eyes pouring into my back, but when I spun away from Jason, slamming my locker shut, sending a fresh breeze over the both of us, there was no one I could see watching me.

“I’m going to be late for Mr Mundy.” I called as an afterthought, barely glancing back at a confused Jason still standing by my locker, not wanting to have him seek me out later. I hadn’t heard the second bell ring while he cornered me, too preoccupied with the sickening feeling that had begun in my stomach when Jason’s blue eyes bored into mine and now settled in the low pits of my frame as I tore through the empty corridors. I paused at the edge of Mr Mundy’s classroom door to fix my hair back into place when I got a glimpse of my reflection in the window. My breath hitched in my throat as a prickly heat spread out across my body. She smiled back at me with lips that were trembling on my own face.

“Y/N” She drawled, “I’m still here, waiting.” Black lines appeared on my neck, crawling up my face. My head swam as I hung my head down, ripping my eyes away from the stranger in the window. No, not a stranger echoed in my mind, the same black lines started to flourish from my fingertips, spreading up my forearms.

Something hard but fleshy slammed into my back, bringing me out of my nightmare. Tommy H spun around to grin at me holding his hands up in an apologetic way as he walked backwards into the class. My head snapped back up to the window, but it was my own eyes, glassy with fresh tears that stared back at me. I quickly followed suit after Tommy, hoping to slip in undetected. Fortunately, Mr Mundy was preoccupied with reprimanding Carol over some violation or another as I hastily found my seat in the third row. I shoved my bag under the desk and flipped to an empty page in my notebook, a strong breeze blowing through the open windows helped even my breathing as I focused on the coolness of the air. I groaned as I felt the warm body on my left shift in my direction. With everything that had happened that morning I hadn’t let myself think about this class. Mr Mundy had been out sick for the first two days of the week, so it was actually the first class of senior year, and like the past three years of high school in calculus, I was situated in my regular seat with some quiet band geek on my right side and –

“Miss Y/N,” He cleared his throat leaning forward “You uh –“

“Shut it Munson, you’d think since it was you’re third year trying to pass high school you would at least bring a pencil, regardless – not my issue.” I snapped, crossing my legs and angling my body away from Edward Munson, Hawkins Highs very own organically grown Metal head.

As much I appreciated Mr Mundy’s teaching style, i wasn’t a fan of his inability to deal with change, hence why – after clearly pissing off some high power from above– I ended up sitting next to Eddie on an iron clad seating chart. No amount of begging and bargaining with the Calculus teacher got me anywhere

‘The best and the worst students in the class, you might rub off on him Y/N.’ Mr Mundy then just winked, laughed and snatched his brief case up on his way out before I had a chance to respond. But if he thought for one second that I was going to tutor or be some sort of good role model, then Mr Mundy wasn’t as smart as he thought he was, or I just was as stubborn as I thought I was. Eddie was a lost cause, for the most part of our four years of school, I’d managed to avoid and ignore the metal head. We’d probably said about five sentences to each other and that was only because of partnered projects we were forced to share. Even so, I swore his sole purpose on earth was to piss me off and he seemed determined to live up to the title or die trying.

The way he’d twist the rings that adorned almost all of his knuckles, so they’d catch the sunlight and blind me, or how he’d bang a couple of pencils on his desk pretending to play a fake drum set while humming a song I didn’t know under his breath. The scratching of his pencil against his desk piercing through my concertation as he doodled away, completing ignoring whatever important material Mr Mundy would be teaching. Most infuriating of all though was the fresh smell of weed that would hit me like a rock as he sauntered past my desk, arriving late to class because he was busy smoking. More infuriating now, as it was what I used to be able to sleep through the night. Since the fire I hadn't one night where I didn't wake screaming or locked in a frozen cage of terror.

The earthy smell, even diluted by Eddie's cologne, sent a stab of wanting through my core, not a feeling I wanted to associate with Eddie.

A wolf whistle erupted behind me and I slowly turned to see Tommy and some cronies eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat.

“Nice show Y/N” They chuckled loudly, ensuring everyone could hear them, Mr Mundy started to make his way over to the commotion. I scowled at the group of boys confused, until realisation dawned on my face.

Chapter Two

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter & my very first post! If you would like to be added to my Eddie tag list, let me know! :) Enjoy Sunflowers - P. x

#eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson headcanon #eddie stranger things #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie fanfic #eddie smut #eddie fluff #eddie x reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #opposite ends

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im-robins-bitch · 11 months

Note

Hey can you write robin x reader where reader is in the news paper team with nancy. And robin is always coming in and skipping classes to see reader. One day she randomly asks to join ( not just for the reader definitely not) and nancy ( readers best friend) cant stand the awkward flirting and obliviousness so she partnered them up for a project but robin as no clue what shes doing! Thanks

Love in print (r.b x fem! reader)

Or, Robin is smitten with you after you interview her for the newspaper club and finds herself writing an advice collum in order to spend more time with you. Thank you for the request, I tweaked it a little I hope that's ok. (4.7k)

(Warnings, making out, mentions of homophobia)

Robin isn’t sure how exactly she found herself in this position. One minute she was simply a band geek who minded her own business, now she was running an advice collum for the school newspaper.

How she, of all people, was giving the school population advice, dating and otherwise, was beyond her. When Nancy had first given her the job it had been for one reason and one reason only, you. As soon as you had interviewed her for the band, she had been completely smitten.

It was your first time interviewing and it was clear you were wrung out with nerves. Your attempt at a smile was so sweet, your pen tapping back and forth against your notebook with ferocity.

Your anxiety fueled her own and she began rambling on and on every time you asked a question until you were relaxing enough to genuinely enjoy what she was talking about.

“Tutankhamun's trumpets are the oldest working trumpets in the world though! They were buried for over 3,000 years and they still worked, isn’t that really cool, but then..” She noticed you had stopped writing a long time ago, looking at her instead of the notebook you had been furiously scribbling in earlier to keep up with her rambling.

She knew she talked far too much, especially when she was nervous. She had long lost count of all the times she had been told to be quiet. If there was an awkward silence it was like her mouth had a mind of its own, it just wouldn’t stop running. Anything to fill the quiet so she wouldn’t have to worry about why it was silent in the first place.

“Sorry, I, I should probably shut up, you came to talk to the rest of the band too” Robin murmured.

You shook your head, a genuine smile on your face instead of the nervous one from earlier. “I came to talk to you,” You insisted, “then what happened to the trumpets?”

It took Robin a second to reboot. Your genuine interest in what she was talking about was such a rarity that it made her cheeks flame. Usually when she was in this deep people stopped listening, just waiting until she was finished.

“During the rehearsal for a radio show where they were going to play the trumpets, the silver one broke!”

“What no way! I couldn’t even imagine what I would do if i broke a 3,000-year-old artefact” You giggled, eyes crinkling. “Did they have to cancel the broadcast then?”

Robin shook her head, “They still managed to do it, can you imagine listening to the trumpets over the radio that Egyptians had listened to all those years ago?”

“That must have been really cool,” You say emphatically, tucking your pen behind your ear. “You must be really passionate about the trumpet to know all these facts,”

“Oh…Well, I-” Robin stuttered, caught off guard by this sudden shift in conversation. She could recite facts and stories till the cows came home, but talking about herself was another matter. “I think it’s just natural you pick it up,” Did you think it was weird how much she knew about the trumpet, did you think she was some trumpet freak that slept with it every night?

You shook your head, “You’re not giving yourself enough credit” You insisted “You’re just really smart, I was talking to the flute players and I think I learnt more prepping in the library to talk to you guys than I did from talking to them, you’re the best interview I’ve done by far, it was actually so interesting talking to you I kept forgetting to take notes” You admitted, shifting from one foot to another nervously.

For once Robin was stunned to silence, realising she wasn’t going to talk anymore you started again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, they’re totally your friends and I just bad-mouthed them, I’m so sorry, it's just-”

“It’s not that I just- people don’t normally…I’m not used to compliments” from someone so cute.

“Oh,”

Now you must think she has no friends and no confidence, which she supposes isn’t exactly untrue.

“Well you should get used to them Robin Buckley, you’re gonna be going places, I can just tell” You grinned, bouncing on your feet again. Your smile must be infectious because Robin smiled right back, cheeks turning rosy.

“You think so?” Robin asked casually. Like that isn’t someone she’d always dreamed of being told, like you haven’t just given her enough material here that she’s going to spend the rest of her life daydreaming about this moment.

“I know so”

It was then that you cemented yourself as the girl that appears in every one of her dreams and fantasies, She knows she’s going to talk to Steve about you until he’s sick of hearing your name. She’s going to look for you every time she’s in the halls in hopes of seeing your nervous feet bouncing against the linoleum.

It was all a haze as you explained that you’ll be back to take some photos on Friday because since Johnathan left there's only one camera and someone else had stolen it, even though you booked it out. The adorable furrow of your brow is saved in her memory bank for her late-night daydreams.

By the time Robin see’s you again she’s learned everything she can about you from Nancy.

You hadn’t had a boyfriend since middle school and insisted that he didn’t count, Andy asked you on a date last year and you rejected him along with seemingly anyone else who tried to ask you out. Nancy was surprisingly loose with the information she shared, offering up far more than Robin had even dared to ask about.

Even though she had gone through a million possible talking points all day, as soon as she saw you, one foot tapping on the floor it all flew right out the window. The camera was looped around your neck and you were fiddling with the buttons, scowling at it in confusion.

“Hey,” Robin greeted, trying to be as casual as possible as she placed her trumpet case on the table and started to put it together.

“Hi” You mumbled, still staring daggers into the camera, “Sorry, I just,” You pressed the buttons a couple of times, “The settings have all been messed up and…I’m so hopeless at this” You murmured, “I asked Johnathon for advice on the phone last night, but it was so much easier when he was here, I have like no idea what I’m doing, god I’m sorry I shouldn’t be complaining.”

“No, it’s ok, I don’t mind, maybe-”

She flinches as you press a button accidentally and she’s blinded by the flash. “Shit, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” You say abandoning the camera and letting it hang from your neck. “Sorry, I’m not normally so… it’s just my first time being in charge of a whole section, it feels like so much pressure. I really don’t want to let Nancy down”

Robin rubs her eyes, trying to reassure you while acting like there aren’t spots appearing in her vision. “I don’t think there's much chance of that, she’s been telling me how great you are all day,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, plus you’re really good at interviewing, I mean, I’ve never been interviewed before, but you made me feel really well interviewed. I mean, just that it was super thorough, but not like an interrogation, trust me I’ve been through one of those and it was awful,” Robin says inching closer and closer. Her mouth once again moved without thinking.

“You’ve been interrogated?” You questioned, finally smiling as you push some hair from your face. “I didn’t realise you were such a trouble maker”

“Oh no, I was innocent,” Robin quickly corrects, “Falsely imprisoned”

“Wow, I didn’t think you could beat your Egyptian trumpet story, but this sounds like it just might.”

Robin blushes, she isn’t sure if you’re making fun of her at first, but the warmth in your eyes makes her think it's the opposite. Still, she knows she can’t actually tell you that story, so she tries to move on. “I could have a look at the camera if you want, my mum has one just like it.”

“If you don’t mind,”

“I don’t mind at all,” Robin grins, moving beside you as you hold out the camera. She has to look over your shoulder, chin slightly brushing against your cheek. She can feel the heat radiating from you, while she fixes the settings for you.

This was probably going to be the last time she would talk to you, once this issue was finished you would go your way and she would go hers. Maybe she could make up some reason to visit Nancy in the club room, see you in passing in the halls.

Only she wants to watch as your nervous smile melts away to a real one, just because of her. She wants to place her hand in yours, feel your palm pressing into her own while you listen to her stories and offer your own up as well.

She takes her time fiddling with the buttons, it didn’t really need much doing anyway, but she isn’t going to let you know that.

She just wishes she had more courage, or that she didn’t have to hide her affection for girls and she could just be herself. Without worrying that asking out the wrong person could ruin her life or at least make her need to move three towns over.

Once she’s finally done she settles the camera down in your hand, ignoring the way you lean away from her touch once she’s finished. “Thank you,” You say, moving your hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, even though it’s already tucked away.

“No problem, I’ve wanted to get more into photography anyway” It’s a complete lie. She isn’t even sure why she says it. She just hopes it will make you stop curling in on yourself, wilting right in front of her eyes from embarrassment.

“Oh really?” You question, brightening up again. “You could always use our darkroom if you need to. We could do with an extra pair of hands if you know anything about developing photos?”

Robin had absolutely no idea how to develop photos in a darkroom. “I would love that!”

While Robin didn’t know much at all about photography, she was going to become an expert if it meant she could spend time with you.

“Great! They’ll love some extra help, I was helping out last week but I tripped over a chair and spilt the developer everywhere, now it’s like every time I need to develop photos no one else is available to help” You laughed.

“Well, I’ll always help!” Robin grinned, loving the way you started to fiddle with your fingers. It was nice to make someone flustered for a change.

She had skipped gym class with a poorly forged note about her period and the male gym teacher immedietly let her go to study hall. Instead she found herself hoping you wanted to see her.

It took her a minute of pacing outside the door to pluck up the courage to walk through the door, a little worried she might immediately be kicked out.

Your smile when she came through the door threatened to spilt your face in half. “You really came!” You exclaimed, abandoning what you were doing and tucking your pen behind your ear. You immediately stand up from the desk you were typing at, Nancy watching with amusement.

It was worth it, it was definitely worth it she thought. Even if she died in the dark room from the fumes she was going to die happy. Never had she been greeted with such excitement.

Nancy smiled knowingly from her place next to you, looking up from what she was doing to raise an eyebrow at Robin, “I didn’t realise you were interested in photography,”

“It’s a recent interest” Robin defended.

“Nance” You scorned, at the same time “Please don’t,”

The two of you looked at each other, both thinking Nancy was referring to you. You picked at your nails as Robin ruffled at her own hair.

“You should get a hurry on if you wanna finish before next period,” Nancy warns, squeezing your wrist in reassurance as you sway on your feet next to her.

Robin glares at the touch, jealous even though she knows she had no right. Especially so when Nancy is very much dating Jonathan. It’s stupid when she knows you so little, she supposes you are on her mind so much it feels like you’re closer than you actually are.

“Right, I’ll lead the way” You offer. Your arm leaves Nancy’s hold and your hand presses gently against Robin's arm instead. She wishes she had gone for a short sleeve shirt today so she could feel your hand against her skin. She settles for the warmth seeping from your palm instead. She mourns the loss when you let go.

You lead her to the small darkroom, informing her that it will just be the two of you. Her chest warms and so do her cheeks.

You spend an hour in the dark room, giggling together over the chemicals. She taught you how to develop the photos step by step, pretending she hadn’t just absorbed all the information she was telling you hours prior.

Even using her hands at one point to guide your own. It was a move Steve had told her to use during their last shift, she swore it was stupid and she wasn’t going to do it. Yet here she was, rings cold against your own skin as she helped you shake the photo just right to dry it off a little before hanging it up.

Once you had finished the few photos that needed doing for the day, you both started packing up. Moving at a much slower pace than when you had been setting up the equipment.

Your hand brushes against hers as you both grab for the same pair of tongs and it makes you bump your hip into the table and the developer splashes over the sides of the tray. “Sorry…” You mumble, stepping away from her a little.

She wasn’t sure if you were apologising for the contact or for spilling the developer. Either way, she wished you wouldn’t.

Robin found herself skipping gym so often that the coach was concerned about her iron levels. He even pulled her aside to offer to make an appointment with the school nurse for her. The time spent with you in the darkroom was worth the embarrassment, especially that day.

Robin was wearing a tinted chapstick she had bought specifically because you had been wearing it the week before. She hadn’t meant to buy it, but just before she could even think her hand grabbed it and added it to her basket.

It made your lips look extra kissable, so she just wanted her lips to look the same. No ulterior motive whatsoever.

Every time she used it, she would blush thinking of your lips, wondering if that’s how you would taste. She didn’t think anything could fluster her more until you noticed her putting it on.

“We have the same lip balm,” You stated, pointing to your lips, covered in the same sticky tint. She panicked, thinking you thought she was weird, trying to find some way to explain. “I wouldn’t have minded sharing,” You say, grinning coyly.

Her brain didn’t work for the entire rest of the day. Behind a timid exterior, you were such a minx. You were always complimenting her any chance you got, barely hiding a smirk at her red cheeks.

It was that day Nancy had approached her, arms crossed and leaning against the table. You had gone to interview Gareth about his local band. You had talked all about it to Robin, you had been Gareth’s lab partner every year since freshman and had a soft spot for him. That was all she heard before her mind drifted off, eyes focused on your lips and nothing else.

Normally you talking about some guy would be enough to make her jealous, but she was still mushy-brained from earlier so she just nodded along to everything you said, missing her chance to offer to tag along.

“We both know you’re not interested in photography, Buckley” Nancy had begun, cutting Robin off before she could even come up with some excuse. “If you’re gonna spend all your time here anyway, might as well do something useful”

So that was how Robin ended up in charge of an advice collum she had no interest in. Nancy told her it would improve the readership to get more of the student body involved, but Robin wasn’t convinced.

Until you had eagerly nodded along, praising Nancy for such a good idea when you came back from your interview.

Every time Robin tried to get out of it she was re-persuaded.

“I’m awful at giving advice” Robin reasoned.

“You helped me” You encouraged. Smiling at her with teeth as you moved some of your papers and pens away from your cluttered desk, “I don’t think I could even cope without you anymore,”

“But..” Robin thought of the small darkroom, the enclosed space leaving no room for anyone other than you and her. She could talk to you in private, without needing to worry about other people.

The advice collum had no photographs, she would have no reason at all to go in there anymore. What if you didn’t even get to spend time together at all any more, she would have to actually write a whole advice section. It didn’t leave much time for staring at your face.

“And you can set up right next to me, it gets pretty lonely writing all by yourself, so we can keep each other company”

All her arguments died on her tongue as she realised what you were doing. Tidying things away and dragging a chair over, so that she could sit right next to you.

She was done for, today was far too much for her to deal with.

Her brain, which had been re-solidifying, abandoned her once again. All she could think of was you. Your sweet smiles, the pen you always tucked behind your ear and then would endearingly forget was there, your shaky hands and jumpy legs.

Even now, despite your confident facade, she could see the nerves in your foot as you tapped it against the floor. You gazed up at her, hoping you hadn’t overstepped by assigning her a place right next to your own.

“That sounds perfect”

So here she was, tapping away on an old typewriter to try and help a mystery freshman whose fiery girlfriend just wouldn’t stop dumping him.

You sat next to her, shoulder brushing her own. No longer so shy with touch, you were often glued to her side. You always sat next to her, writing your articles together. Giving each other advice and spell-checking for each other.

She wished she had an advice collum she could write to.

One day, when she was definitely not trying to impress you by speaking French, ( it totally came up naturally she swears) you look as lovesick as her. Only it’s difficult for her to actually talk to you about it, one wrong move and she could either have a girlfriend or be a bigger social pariah than Eddie Munson.

She’s almost at breaking point today, you’re playing with her rings. She had abandoned them on the table.

They had been irritating her, rubbing against her skin as she tried to type as fast as she could. You had taken that as an opportunity to investigate, scrutinising each one before sliding them on your fingers. You had finished writing a little while ago but were still waiting for her.

You’ve put another one of her rings on your finger, pushing it up and down and up again, twisting it back and forth. “These are really pretty Rob” You compliment, eyes not leaving your hands, twisting them back and forth in the light.

Rob. A little nickname you had recently started using that sent butterflies to her stomach.

“Thanks,” She says, her rhythmic typing stuttering for a second. Did you have any idea what you did to her? How a simple compliment from you made her heart skyrocket. She quickly shakes off the thought, typing even faster so she can get on to the final bit of advice for this week.

She was hoping to finish early so she could somehow segway into going to get some food together. Only she had so many people asking for help this week, Valentine's Day was quickly approaching, so it was taking even longer than usual.

Finally finished with her advice for Basketball Boy, so Robin could finally move on to the last bit of advice.

She looks down at the last bit of paper, you had picked out for her this week, insisting you didn’t have much to do for your article this time and wanting to save her the trouble.

She sighs, seeing another person asking for dating advice. This one is written in a glittering gel pen, they were pretty popular right now, especially the kind that smells like fruits.

She had seen you using one last week, and you had excitedly held it out to her asking her to smell it. She nodded along saying it smelt nice, but really all she could smell was your perfume and it had made her light-headed.

Shaking herself out of her daydreams, she reads over the flowery script.

Dear R,

There’s a girl in my club and she’s all i can think about, I took on a role in my club just to talk to her, back when she didn’t even know I existed. Now we’re friends and I’m terrified of ruining it, please help me, how do I tell her I like her without telling her I like her?

Robin reads over the submission again and again. It’s almost like she wrote it herself.

You rest your head onto Robin’s shoulder, cheek pressing against the sleeve of her shirt. She can feel the warmth of your skin seeping through the fabric. You’re always so warm and Robin is obsessed with it.

January is so cold, she wishes she could bury herself in between your legs, face pressed into your stomach. At least she wants to hold your hand, in fact, she’s pretty sure you’d let her. Friends, do that all the time right? Maybe if she held Nancy's hand first to set a precedence then it wouldn’t need to mean any-

“So…” You mumble, fiddling with her rings again, which are still on your fingers. “What do you think?”

Robin ponders, how could she give this person advice when she was going through the exact same thing and was clueless. “I’m not sure, if he likes her so much then he should just tell her, clearly he never wanted to just be friends”

“Do you think it’s creepy?”

“Do you?” She stutters, of all the weird submission’s you’ve read together, how can the one you think is strange be the one closest to her own situation?

You slump down into your seat and Robin immediately mourns the loss of your touch. “I just…well, the girl has no idea that they’re friends because…you know.”

“I think he should tell her” Robin decides, just because she has to suffer her crushes in silence, doesn’t mean everyone should. “Even if she doesn’t like him, they can still be friends. Look at Steve and me,”

“What if they couldn’t, what if telling them would ruin everything”

“What’s the worst that could happen to him,” Robin reasons, “A bit of embarrassment, maybe he would lose a friend, I think he has more to gain than he has to lose.”

You’re silent for a moment, and then you turn to Robin in your chair. You’ve dumped Robin’s rings and started chipping at your nail polish. A habit that you keep saying you’re going to break, but never do.

“You’re assuming it’s a guy”

“Huh”

“You’re assuming it’s a guy, but look at the writing, look at the glitter gel pen.”

Robin looks down, her thumb rubbing against the sparkly gel pen, the looped cursive is very feminine, but Robin can’t even believe it. Could it really be, could there really be another person like her?

She’s speechless as she takes in the possibility, and then she reads over the letter again.

Robins's heart pounds, she knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but it’s already too late. You have this kind of gel pen, even if half the year does too, you have recently made a new friend and you met because of your club. Surely it isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that it might have been you.

Did you start writing for the entertainment section just to talk to her?

“I think she should tell her,”

“You…You do” You stumble, eyes staring into hers, searching for something.

Robin is pretty sure if you don’t confess to her within the next 30 seconds she going to physically deflate like a balloon. Despite herself, her hopes are sky high. She nods her head eagerly, sure if she speaks her voice will betray her by coming out squeaky.

She’s already biting back her grin before you even start to speak.

“Robs” You start, you sound so quiet and she leans forward in her chair. Both to hear you better and to hopefully give you easier access to her lips. “I…Have you ever read anything by Sappho?”

The breath Robin was holding in came out in a rough exhale. This must be it, it has got to be her. Her legs bounce from trying to hold herself back from throwing herself into your embrace and squealing at the top of her lungs.

She nodded her head again and your eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, hands darting out to cup her cheeks, bringing more warmth to her heated skin.

“I like you,” She can feel your nerves as your hands shake against her cheeks.

She can’t really believe it. Any of it.

She lurches forward so fast that she almost sends her chair flying. Despite her lack of grace, her kiss is tender. Her hands dwarf your own as she tries to soothe you and your shuddering fingers.

You have the tinted lip balm on today and she greedily hopes it stains her own lips so she has a visual reminder of this moment. She swears she’ll never wipe her lips, eat, drink or do anything that could remove the stain from her lips, even if she dies of dehydration.

Her plan is quickly ruined when you're brought out of your stupor, moving forward with more ferocity than she would ever expect. One hand escapes her hold and clutches the back of her neck, drawing her and her rolling chair forward. You lick greedily at her bottom lip, thighs caging in one of her legs.

Her lips part in shock, your innocent kiss turning into something more. You clutch onto her like you’re terrified of her slipping away. She returns your kiss, one hand squeezing your own, the other moving to cup your cheek.

She brushes her thumb against the apple of your cheek, relishing the soft gasp it gets out of you.

When you part, your eyes flick to hers before quickly looking away. Your shyness returns and it's just as endearing as it was the first time she met you. Despite your embarrassment, you curl one arm around her waist, bringing her as close as you can until your chairs touch.

“I really like you,” You say, timidly, leaving no room for argument.

Robin smiles so hard her cheeks hurt, her brain practically a puddle at her feet.

Maybe Robin was better at giving advice than she thought.

Masterlist

#robin buckley blurb #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x fem reader #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley #robin buckley drabble

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kimbap-r0ll · 2 years

Note

Can you do a TWST imagine (Dorm Leaders+Jamil), In which reader’s parents are one of the great seven? (So like Malleus with reader who’s mother is Maleficent)

Hi, thank you for the ask! I think that this is a large amount of characters and because it's not just the dorm leaders (which I leave as an exception from my five-character limit), I'm just going to choose four random dorm leaders and Jamil.

Edit: For those wondering, I don’t headcanon Malleus and Maleficent being related, if someone has the chapter where this is mentioned let me know tho! As of now in twst it’s not confirmed. It was not my intention on making this seem like they were, so I’m sorry if this upset anyone

Malleus, Azul, Idia, Jamil, Vil with a reader whose parent is a Great Seven

Malleus

He's surprised, as that would mean you're also a fae. The two of you probably had a lot of similarities in terms of magical abilities and it made sense why you were living in Briar Valley. He just didn't know that you were related to a Great Seven, let alone the Thorn Fairy herself!

He doesn't consider it too much however, as he's just happy to be with you. He looks at you for who you are, rather than your reputation as Maleficent's daughter. He'll just say that it is an honor to be with you but that's as far as it will go.

Sebek on the other hand is freaking out that there's two super famous people on campus and that they're both in the same dorm as he is haha. Malleus will make sure that you don't get too much unwanted attention from curious students though as sometimes it can be overwhelming

Overall he's glad to be with you because of who you are, more than you being related to the Great Seven. Perhaps you should introduce him to your mother at some point, the two might have a lot in common

Azul

He knew you were from the sea but he didn't think you would be an octopoid like he was. He was super happy when you said that you were, since it made him feel less lonely.

But you shocked him even more when you said you were related to the Benevolent Sea Witch. Like, the person he looks up to? WHAT?!

He doesn't think he has the honor to be with you, but he fell in love with you because of who you were as a person to begin with. You were smart, talented, brave, and you looked at him as more than the head of Octavinelle or the "scary dorm leader in charge of the lounge."

He will ask to go to Corral Sea with you on some occasions, perhaps he's curious to see your mer form. But if you ask him, he'll be shy about it but with some convincing and lots of hugs he might cave in haha. Azul won't mind too much about your relation to Ursula, though he might be a bit nervous to meet her in person.

Idia

No way you were actually related to the King of the Underworld. No way, he's pressing x for doubt. But you said that it was true, and that you could show him and he was like "...no thanks I like my room."

He likes you for who you are as well, since you were the first one to geek out with him about video games and you were the first one to stand up for him when some students tried to gang up on the poor dorm leader. He admires your charisma but also your fearless personality.

If you do show him your father, expect Idia to hide behind you for most of the event. His hair might go red too, which you might point out is eerily similar to your dad's

Overall, he likes you because of who you are, and he won't worry about your connection to a Great Seven. If anyone tries to overwhelm you because of this information however, he might get upset

Jamil

He thought there was a reason you were so good at magic! Not to mention you would constantly talk about a talking parrot that was eerily similar to the tales of the Sorcerer of the Sands.

He thinks you're too good for him. Jamil's a vice dorm leader, let alone a servant to the Al Asim family, so he has no idea how someone so prestigious (at least in his opinion) would want to be with him. But you tell him that family names and such doesn't matter to you, and he feels the same way.

He might be a bit hesitant to show up in front of your father soon, so for now he might just ask you questions about him. How is it like to be related to him? Is the parrot really annoying? Stuff like that haha

Just remember that Jamil's there for you! He loves you because of who you are! Also, if you do end up showing him your father, expect him to be a bit flustered because he's anxious but the two of them will likely be on very good terms since they're kinda similar in your opinion.

Vil

Yeah you were beautiful, he knew that. But what he didn't know was that you were related to the Beautiful Queen, you know, the person Pomefiore's based off of.

He loves you because of who you are as well. He doesn't consider your parentage very important when he loves you. He won't tolerate people harassing you about your mother though.

He wouldn't mind meeting your mother though, since he has confidence in himself to look good. But once the two of them meet, the two of them realize that they're really similar haha.

He really doesn't care that much that you're related to the Great Seven, though he considers it an honor to be with you. Vil won't think much after that, but other Pomefiore students might be a bit scared of you haha.

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streets-in-paradise · 7 months

Text

Friday the 13 Th - Eddie Munson x (Fem) Henderson! Reader

Warnings: Friday the 13 Th franchise references.

Summary: Eddie has convinced you of making something big to bother Jason in the most fitting day for your inside joke about him.

Notes: Happy Friday the 13 th! Let's make fun of Jason lol

The school's cafeteria was a stage where Eddie loved to play being a dreaded artist annoying the well adjusted students with his unhinged dramatizations. He was an autentical court jester despite many loathed his performances. You may have been once too shy to get involved or even engage, but the spirit of companionship of Hellfire had slowly and consistently changed that.

As two lonely weirdos doing their best to not be noticed during most of your highschool experience, you have always been in a distant bubble with Jonnathan doing your own thing unless bullies would disrupt you. There was no one else at least untill he started to date Nancy and you befriended Eddie first, later also Steve. While you remained best friends, some of that crave to hide together in a little corner going unnoticed began to change and that was way more evident in you under the influence of Eddie.

For once at least, Jonnathan acceded to get involved for a small role in a carefully crafted espectacle you were planning because he got to appreciate the concept. Fellow horror geek, he found it simple yet quite effective. At very least you both would have a funny story to share with Will and Dustin.

Staged action took it's course as you approached him limping and pretending you were crying your heart out.

" Please, please! You have to help me!! " You begged him for the entire place to hear you, your ketchup soaked hands seeking to hold his clean ones . " … He is coming, he got my friends!!! He is gonna kill us! "

Pretending confussion wasn't that hard given your performance.

" What are you talking about?"

" The councelors were making love while that young boy drowned!!" You directly referenced the speech of Pamela Vorhees in a mashup with a victim character. " … Now we are all cursed. WE DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED!!!! "

When your agonical, prophetic scream gave him the sign Eddie emerged rushing like a maniac into the scene.

" FRIDAY THE 13 TH!!! IT'S FRIDAY THE 13 TH, PEOPLE!!" He began to scream to anyone in his way. " RUN FOR YOUR LIVES CAUSE JASON IS GONNA COME TO GET YOU!"

The joke was perfectly timed with the entrance of Jason Carver. Annoyance was the less concerning feeling it awakened on the target. When you once started it he could have never imagined it was going to stick with the full weirdo group and even escalate.

" Are you looking for trouble, freak?"

Enacting a reaction fitting for a horror movie, you got in between them shielding Eddie with your body.

" No, Eds! Don't sacrifice yourself for me!! "

Eddie turned dramatically to play pretend a heartfelt objection.

" I must do it. You are the final girl and i am just the disastrous but charming male lead following you into the woods just because i'm in love with you. " He followed your performance with a self awareness touch. " Go, my beloved. Save that stoner and remember me. "

You held his hands as if his life trully depended of listening to you.

" I won't let you go! I know how to defeat Jason, you just have to trust me. "

The basketball player was frankly weirded. Still angry, but his lack of contextual orientation to whatever you were thinking to be doing temporally overcame his desire to punch Eddie in the face.

He was accidentally incarnating one of the lapsus of confussion Jason Vorhees could sometimes had in the films before resuming the chase for his victims.

Perfect moment for you to iniciate the end of the third act taking off your jacket to reveal a striped sweater in matching colors with the Tigers.

" Look at me Jason!! Look! Come over here … " You began to call him in the sweetest tone. " Do you recognize this? You are in home, honey.. It's gonna be ok, I'll take care of you!"

Your friends were laughing uncontrolably and you realized that even a guy in the jock's table was holding his chuckles. Probably only just for the excessive female nudity of the franchise, but he must have watched the film your joke was referencing. Not missing the chance to expose it, you smiled at him and his amusement turned inmediately into disgust.

" Friday the 13 Th Part 2, just in case you want to rent it for the weekend. " You explained to Jason after abandoning the character. " My interpretation didn't stick completely to the source material, but I found this sweater in a thrift store and inmediately thought of you. Eddie insisted we had to save it for the next Friday the 13 Th. "

" Meaning that you got that cheap sweater in my team's colours and prepared a scene arround it just to annoy me. " Jason summarized out loud, clearly fed up with all the freaks. " At least i can say you took too many bothers to get my attention in this oddly specifical charade. "

" Bullshit! He is pissed off, only tries to hide it because he lost. " Eddie quickly corrected. " We made it, sweetheart!!"

You both hi fived each other and rushed in the opposite direction, but hubris made Eddie deliver one last comeback on the way.

" Happy Friday 13 Th, Carver !!!! Don't get in the lake!!! "

Despite he did enjoy the thrill, Jonnathan was giving you judgamental looks as you reached him.

" … If i get targeted again for this."

Eddie patted him on the shoulder cheerfully before reassuring him.

" Chill, man! His feud is against us, you are totally safe. "

" That was freaking awesome! " You followed the cheers. " Don't lie to me, I saw it in your eyes. You are as excited as me. "

You had a point and he couldn't deny it.

" Fine, it was quite fun … Not as satisfying as punching Steve, but still. "

Eddie clearly supported the posibility of finding someone to complain about Harrington with that you couldn't object to. Besides, he was a big fan of the referenced episode.

" I heard all about it, the freak that kicked his bully's ass and stole his girlfriend … I just want you to know that Hellfire considers you a hero. You will always be welcome among us. "

His most inmediate answer was an awkward smile.

" Thanks. I really appreciate it, but i would like to keep my girlfriend. "

They chuckled and Eddie's was the loudest.

" Good call, man! Good call. "

Something in the specifical way Eddie choose to congratulate Jonnathan made you feel uneased. Probably because you were just jealous imagining he could want to steal his bully's girlfriend too if he had the same chance.

" Eds, if we were in a horror movie. Do you really think we would be the romantically coded final girl and last kill boy sacrificing himself so she could make it to the final fight?" You asked him as you were walking thowards the Hellfire table. " I mean, I won't do well as a final girl. To be one you need more than just be the virgin ... "

The joke may have been themed as a different thing, but you were masquerading your will to figure out if that was the case.

" ... And most times they aren't unwanted freaks, they are normal cute girls just too shy to approach their crush or too nervous to let their boyfriends convince them of sleeping together. "

He wasn't sure of where the point was going, but didn't mind to indulge you.

" Realistically, I would be the guy who dies alone getting high in the woods. " He mocked himself. " but i do think you could be a final girl. Although a rare breed we don't often get blessed with, freak girls tend to be passionate horror fans. You know all the rules to survive, my prediction is that you would make it and at the end of the film Harrington would be asking you out. "

The answer deviated from the path you expected.

" I thought you would accuse Steve of being the asshole jock dying in the sex scene. "

" As a judge I'm cruel, but fair. That has to be Hargrove, Harrington has higher chances of making it if he sticks with you. "

That made you laugh for reasons he could never possibly understand. In real life, Steve was the resourcefull fighter.

" Would you believe me if I tell you that Steve is a final girl ? "

He was laughing harder then, untill your softly delivered conclussion stopped it.

" I would like to make it with you too … It would be a refreshing change for the slasher formula. "

Eddie wasn't sure of it, but for an instant he choose to treat himself imagining you said you wanted to be with him in a very freakish way.

" There is no way i could make it. Ríght now i can tell you I would die for you. "

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #jason carver #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #joseph quinn

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