#80s fanfic

[rwprincess]

Stacked (BenderxFem!Reader --Smut--)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.2k

Synopsis: A good girl has gone bad for Bender. BenderxFem!Reader smut, in the library, as the only two in detention.

CW: No plot, only smut; semi-public sex (p in v with condom); virgin!reader; fingering (f receiving); some breast play; pet names: honey, good girl, baby, sweetheart, sweets; mild degredation (verbal); weed mention

You probably would have categorized yourself as a ‘good girl’ before that fateful Saturday of March 24th, albeit one who slipped up just enough to land yourself in that Saturday Detention in the first place. You had made it through most of your high school career without feigning illness to stay home or cutting class, but oh no, the one time you decided to skip was the time you would get caught. It felt like the universe was conspiring against you when Vernon caught you and your two friends sneaking back onto campus through one of the back doors in the East Wing. It was like he knew you had all gone out and was just waiting for you to come crawling back. You immediately lamented to yourself that you should have never let your friends convince you to play hooky, that your life would be over and you’d be suspended for sure. You consider yourself lucky to have only earned Saturday school and had arrived that morning ready to pay your penance and return to your title of ‘good girl.’ That is, until you met John Bender. Since then, you tried everything in your power to toe the line to get as many Saturday Detention slips as possible, knowing he’d be there.

There was just something about him that drew you in, like a spell had been cast over you or something. You knew you should have been disgusted and horrified by the things he said to Claire, but your instinctive side made you feel prickly and hot instead as he questioned her, “Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, your shoes off, hoping to God your parents don’t walk in?” Your brain took it as more of a suggestion and you immediately imagined Bender doing just that to you, while you’d card your hands through his long, soft brown hair. You were sure your breath audibly hitched but he didn’t seem to notice, his predatory stare locked on Claire as she swallowed hard and answered, “Do you want me to puke?” Of course, she hid her desire better than you did. Or at least, outwardly protested. But that didn’t stop her from getting to Bender by the end of the day and you had never felt the fiery jealousy that broiled in the pit of your stomach until you saw her kiss him and hand him one of her earrings.

There was just something about him, the way he spoke terrible, filthy things, yet it was coupled with a sweet vulnerable side that you couldn’t resist. You kept your distance at first, flippantly dismissing it as a whirlwind crush…at least for that week or so that he was ‘dating’ Claire. It didn’t take long before that fizzled out, though, and your pangs for Bender came back full-force. It was easy to make it seem like a coincidence those first few Saturdays, “Oh, God, I can’t believe Vernon found me cutting class again,” you’d lie. But John was always one step ahead in reading people and figured you out soon enough.

“You again?” He smirked, walking into the library on one warm April Saturday.

“What can I say? I’m spiraling out of control.” You grinned in response, delighted by his attention…and the fact that it seemed to be just you two this time.

“Mhmm. What are you in for this time?” He questioned, making himself comfortable in his seat next to you at his table. You knew where he always sat and maybe just happened to choose the chair next to his, incidentally, of course.

“Smoking.” You say quickly, quietly. Which spoke volumes to your desire to come here, to see him and spend another weekend with him.

“I’ll say.” He eyed you up and down, making your cheeks turn red before you were interrupted by Vernon coming to berate the two of you. Of course, this was one of John’s pre-assigned detentions from when you first met him. Which retort had earned him this one? ‘Oh, I’m crushed’ or maybe ‘Not even close, bud!’, you wondered while biting back a smile at the memory. You loved the way he stood up to Vernon. It had concerned you a bit at the time, as both escalated and became louder, but it also thrilled you to see him question Vernon’s overinflated sense of authority.

“This should not be your role model, Y/N,” Vernon started to come to a close, indicating John, “If you don’t clean up your act, you’ll just be a female Bender.” 

You scoffed in response, “Promise?” You raised a challenging eyebrow and heard Bender snort, only encouraging you more. 

“Watch it, missy.” He addressed you again, slapping down a worksheet that all of you knew wouldn’t get done, but at least he seemed to have learned his lesson with the ‘essays’ after Brian told him where to shove it, courtesy of The Breakfast Club. He exited in a huff and Bender turned toward you.

“You know, he’s right,” he tutted, clicking his tongue in mock-disapproval, “you’re really going to the dark side. Skipping class and now smoking? I don’t know what to do with ya, kid.”   ‘I have some ideas,’ you thought, silently, while eyeing him. “Tell me, did you just have enough of being perfect all the time, or are you just here to see me?” He grinned deviously, trying to tease you, to get a rise out of you. However, he didn’t know that you were committed to the idea of being with him, to putting all the worry and shame behind you. You’d spent enough time here to repel the shackles of conformity and caring, you were ready to flirt shamelessly and see where that led you.

“Little bit of column A, a little from column B,” you admitted, taking pride in the resulting flustered expression from Bender. It was clear he didn’t expect this change from you. While he sat gaping at you like a fish, you stood up and confidently strode away, knowing Vernon wouldn’t be back unless there was some type of commotion. You sat down, leaning against a shelf of books knowing that Bender would eventually come to you and smirked at the thought.

It didn't take long for your plan to have the desired effect: Bender couldn't resist having attention and someone to talk to, after all. What was he going to do, his assignment? No, you knew he wouldn't let Vernon win. He tried to seem nonchalant about it, as if he were just coming over and actually selecting a book and oh my, you just happened to be here! You half-smirked in victory as he took a seat on the floor next to you.

“So what, pray tell, has brought you here today? I mean, I know the literal cause is for smoking, but I want to know the psychology of it. What made Shermer High’s resident good-girl go down this dark path? How did you,of all people, decide to go bad?” He asked, lowering his voice to a husky tone that left an inching heat between your thighs.

“Hmmm,” you hummed lightly in response, his eyes snapping up to your face while they had previously drifted down. “It’s kind of a secret. Do you want to know?” you lowered your tone conspiratorially, then leaned in towards him after he nodded. Your whispering breath tickled the shell of his ear as you admitted, “You. You are what changed and why I’m here today.” You pulled back and gave him a sickly sweet smile, amused by his responsive gulp.

“Was being innocent always an act, then? You seem like you can just turn it off and on, the way you smiled just now.” 

“Hmm, no.” You giggled in response. “It’s just that…when I met you, I found out that being perfect and preppy wasn’t the only way to live. I was so nervous that first day and thought I’d ruined my life. And then I met you. You were just so cool and didn’t overly care what people think.”

“It comes at a price, you know.”

“All of your Saturdays for all eternity, apparently.” You shrugged.

“It’s more than that,” he looked down at the ground. “I’m not exactly Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky.”

“No, I know that,” you replied, “but you’re more free than anyone I know. They all have sticks up their butts.” You said and he laughed. “Plus, I’d be interested in changing that, in making you happy.” You bit your lip, looking up at him with what you hoped was a meaningful expression…that he’d take the hint. 

He seemed to understand what you were implying because his eyebrows shot up. “What--What exactly are you proposing here?” He asked, taken aback. You had seemed as inexperienced as Claire and Allison when he had met you, and he didn’t think that had changed in the last month or so…unless you were lying in the first place.

“John,” you looked at him directly in the eye as you placed a hand gently on his thigh, “that’s up to you really, isn’t it?”

“Fuck,” he whimpered, meeting your stare. He was almost afraid to make the first move, scared that you would reveal it was all a joke at his expense, that it would all end in utter humiliation. But you just batted your long, dark lashes at him and gave that thigh a gentle squeeze, causing him to throw caution to the wind. He quickly grasped your face between his hands and kissed you, roughly. You let out a light moan to encourage him, and he moved his right hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and holding you near.

His lips were surprisingly soft against yours and his years of experience showed. You instantly repaid each of his kisses with your own, leaning forward into him, and bracing one of his wrists, wrapping around it with your hand. The way your lips moved in tandem, synching with your desires and your heart beats only made this feel more right. You obliged his curious tongue as it swept along your lip, begging to explore your mouth. You parted your lips softly, your breath intermingling with Bender’s. You broke the kiss a few moments later, pulling back, out of breath. Bender began kicking himself internally, fearing that he’d crossed a line or that you would finally reveal that you were just messing with him. He looked away, dejectedly, but you didn’t let him keep the wrong idea for long. You repositioned yourself and began to climb into his lap. He whipped his head back up, brown irises and pupils growing wide at your bold stance. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. You eased yourself down, your hips resting snugly against his own, pressing your chest into his.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you?” You smirked down at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, resting them along his broad shoulders. “Honey, I think we’re just getting started.” Sure, you lacked experience, but after you drank in that first kiss, you were hooked and didn’t want to---no, couldn’t stop now. You needed more, even though you weren’t sure how far that extended yet. At this present moment, you were willing to fuck Bender in the library today, right here amongst the stacks. In fact, you were kind of hoping for it, but you didn’t wholly want to push your luck. For now, you connected your lips back to Bender’s, thrusting your tongue into his mouth, desperate for the sensation of your tongue colliding with his. The soft pinks flexed against each other as you threaded your fingers through his hair, running your nails softly along his scalp. 

Bender tried to have some restraint. It’s the thought that counts, right? He didn’t want to move too fast or make any assumptions. At first, he had his hands along your face, then arms. He pinned them next to your waist and gave tentative squeezes as you deepened your kisses, but he could only resist for so long and needed to test the waters. He slid his hands down to your butt and pulled you forward, up along his lap, just a bit. You hummed appreciatively against his lips, and he took this as a good sign. He dug his fingers into the meat of your ass, massaging the dough and muscle there. His touch made you instinctively roll your hips forward, the sharp bones digging into him and creating an aching friction. He groaned as you pulled away and started to kiss down his jaw to the tender skin of his neck. “Are you---sure---you want this?” He panted out, trying to regain his breathing from your previous kisses to his lips. You only answered with a gentle tug to his hair, pulling his head back just enough to give you more access to the crook of his neck and his collarbone. Another lust-filled groan left his lips, urging you to continue. You could feel your desire dampening your clothed core, causing you to give another roll of your hips, which in turn caused Bender to buck upwards. Combined with his tight grip on your behind, you could feel the straining bulge growing beneath you, yearning to touch you. You smirked into his neck before you pulled back, stopping all sensation. You almost could have sworn you heard him whine in protest.

“You’re surprisingly quiet,” you mused. “I thought for sure you would have a million filthy things to say.”

"Honestly, I'm still a little in shock that this is actually happening," he confided, opening up in a rare moment of vulnerability. "You have no idea how much I've thought about this. About you. I'm not convinced it isn't a dream."

"Mm. Something to pass the time in another lonely Saturday detention?" You purred in response, tightening the grasp on his shoulders.

"Yeah," he licked his lips, eyes scanning your face and lowering down your body, "something like that." 

"Don't worry, baby, it's real." You chuckled darkly, bending to kiss his neck again, "and I think I have some idea how much you've thought about this," you ground down against him, indicating your awareness of his hardness, but also added, "because I've thought about you, too. Every. Night." The implication had his mind racing and he gripped you fiercely, placing a rough kiss to your lips. 

He couldn't contain himself much longer, and wanted to oblige your fantasies as well. His hands roamed your body with intense fervor. His touches were no longer hesitant, they came to you with a needy, almost bruising force. He palmed your breasts over your shirt, before squeezing them harshly, causing you to let out a mewling whine. "Please, John. More," you panted in response. His deft hands quickly slid up your shirt, eager to please, and snaked under the silky fabric of your bra. He relished in the warm squish of your skin and plucked one of your nipples between his index and middle fingers, sliding it down into the curve between. "Yes," you whispered in a high-pitched moan, which crumbled to a deep and gravely tone as Bender's teeth sank into your neck. 

He started to unleash his other hand, trailing down your stomach to the button of your jeans. When you didn't protest, he clicked them open quietly, tugging the zipper down gently. He dipped his hand into the spot he had made available, feeling you over your panties. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he groaned against your ear.

"It's cuz I want you … s'bad." You whined in response, desperate for him to touch you, to give you some kind of relief. 

"You're sure?" He asked. He still wasn't entirely certain of your level of experience, even though you were matching him on-par at this point. He was impressed, but still wary that you would call a stop to it, or regret it later. He'd been in those situations enough times. 

"You were just commenting on how wet I am. For you," you pointed out, "please, Bender, don't be a tease." You mocked him slightly, knowing he thought all girls were teases instead. He gave you a gruff growl in response and slipped his fingers wordlessly into your underwear, using the slick from your folds to coat two of his fingers. He slid them into you, easily, causing an electric shock of desire to jolt through your whole body. It was so different from the touches you had administered to yourself while thinking of him. So much better. 

"Don't ever think that John Bender doesn't deliver, sweetheart," he grumbled against the skin of your neck, making sure he was close enough to your ear for you to hear him. Your walls instinctively clenched around him, aroused by his commentary. "Mm, you like that? You like when I call you 'sweetheart?' Or do you just like having my fingers inside you, fucking into you?" He asked, amused. You nodded quickly, which made him chuckle in return, "Well, which is it?" 

"Both." You replied, then moaned loudly as he flexed his fingers in you. 

"God, I love hearing that. Don't hold back, sweetheart. Keep moaning for me. I'll make it worth your while." He said, and you weren't sure what he meant, exactly, but you were eager to find out, so you let out another low moan to encourage him. He delighted you by adding another layer, an insistent thumb that brought circles to your clit, increasing your pleasure tenfold. 

"Mmf! Fuck!" You breathed, arching your back, pushing your hips forward into his touch. "Yes, John. Just like that. Please." 

"Mm. Where did that controlling girl go? Now you're so needy and begging for it." He smirked.

"Shh," you hushed his criticism and bent forward to kiss him hungrily, tiny breathy moans escaping from the seal of your lips as your orgasm started to build. You bucked against him, riding his hand to seek your high, hands now tangling in his hair. You pulled back to whisper, "I'm so close, John. Please. Please make me cum."

"I told you, baby. I always deliver." He quickened his motions to bring you over the edge and you called his name, feeling it echo in the otherwise silent library. He stroked you a couple more times before slowly pulling his fingers away, letting you come down. "If you think you can stand, I wanna show you even more." He raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded, complying immediately. He was right, your bold nature was gone, replaced by a submissive nature that only focused on the desire for more. You stood up quickly, awaiting directions. "Turn around and grab the shelf." He commanded, climbing to his feet, giving an amused huff of a laugh when he saw how quickly you obeyed. He rummaged around in his wallet for a moment, procuring a condom and holding it in front of your face while he stood behind you, close enough that you could feel his erection brush against your ass. "I want to fuck you. Is that alright, sweetheart?" 

"God, please, yes." You rubbed your ass against him, seeking friction and he laughed again. He tugged at your bottoms, shaking them down your thighs in preparation, then pulling his own down. You heard the rip in the foil and gulped. You were still keen to do this, you needed him inside of you, but your heart pounded in fear and you paused for a moment. "John? I've…I've never done this before. Please, take it easy on me." You confessed and felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. 

"Mm. With how good you've been, you could have fooled me." He mused, running a hand down your side, making you shiver. He leaned forward and you could feel his chest pressed against your back as he nudged his chin onto your shoulder. "Don't worry, sweets. I'll take good care of you." He purred back. Yours was not the first virginity that John Bender had claimed, and you were pretty presumptive of that fact. "Bend forward just a little more," he recommended, and you complied. "Good girl," he hummed, making you feel another wave of wetness flood your core. 

He grasped himself in one hand and led his controlled tip against your folds, allowing your arousal to lubricate the condom as he ran it down the shaft. "I'll go nice and slow, baby. I won't hurt you…unless you want me to." You pressed back against him, his words making you feel anguished for contact. He laughed lightly at the effect he had on you, and gently grabbed your hips to steady you. "You ready, sweets?" He asked and you nodded vigorously before feeling him enter you, stretching your walls slowly to accommodate him. It wasn't painful, but a bit uncomfortable as he inched his way in. You'd never felt so full before and it was definitely something you had to get adjusted to. He was slow and patient, as promised, letting you get used to each bit of him before adding more. "You doing alright?" He asked and you nodded. "Good, 'cuz you are so fucking tight, I wasn't sure," he growled and you instantly felt dizzy with desire. He finally had reached the hilt, having pushed all the way into you. "I'm gonna start moving. I wanna fuck you, okay, baby? You tell me if anything doesn't feel right." 

You nodded again and let out a pathetic, "Please, fuck me, John," that made him want to turn feral, but he remembered his promise. He'd take it easy on you…this time. 

He pulled back and gently reinserted himself. "You drive me fucking wild, saying shit like that. You know that?" He asked and you mewled at the feeling of him filling you back up, gripping the bookshelf just a bit tighter. "All you ever had to do was ask, sweetheart. I've been dying to fuck you six ways from Sunday since we've met. You're so, so pretty," he started to pick up the pace with his words, withdrawing and then pressing back into you, "with those big eyes and their fuck-me stare. I was hoping you wanted me. That I wasn't just imagining it. I thought, oh no, a good girl like that can't be into me. Too innocent. Too sweet. But I was wrong, wasn't I? Deep down, you're just as filthy as me. Begging to be fucked in the library? Because you have detention for smoking? My, my." There was that dirty talk you longed for. 

"Mm, yes. I wanted you so bad. From day one, John. I---" you gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, "had to have you." He pulled out and plowed back in with a renewed force, spurred on by your sultry confessions. You moaned and dropped your head forward, feeling your legs beginning to quake. It was so hard to keep yourself upright while he talked to you the way he did, and while he fucked into you with unbridled desire, possibly as strong as yours. You began to see stars as he brought one of his hands around to the front, running a finger against your swollen clit. You could feel heat radiating off him as his chest pressed against your back, tightly fucking into you and keeping the perfect pressure on the sensitive bud. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, groaning his name. 

"Yes baby, take it just like that and say my name. Fuck, you feel so good."

"Jesus, Bender. You feel even better. I'm close."

"Ohh yeah, baby. Cum on me. Cum while my dick is buried deep in that tight little pussy. Make me cum for you." He grunted out between thrusts, making your head spin and your body lose control. With a final loud moan, your walls clenched around him in your release. 

"Fuck, fuck, John! S'good. Please cum for me, baby. I want you to feel good, too." You muttered, feeling nonsensical in your words, but he still responded.

"Don't worry, sweets. You're making me feel amazing. Won't be much longer, with a pussy this tight and good. I'm almost there. Hold on, hold---" he couldn't finish his thought as he reached his climax as well, digging his fingers into your hips with a bruising force, snapping his own hips up to chase the sensation of his high and you cried out at the sudden burst of friction, taking him deeper in than before. He stilled for a moment, catching his breath and coming back down to reality, surprised to still find you there and to know this wasn't just another wet dream, his subconscious reminding him of what he couldn't have.

He kissed the side of your neck before pulling out of you all too quickly, the fullness replaced by emptiness. You immediately pouted, glad you were turned away from him so he couldn't see the effect he had on you. He was zipping up as you stopped to pull your own pants back up your legs. 

"That was…amazing. Jesus Christ, Y/N, you've been holding out on me," he teased and you pushed him gently. "Ho hum, what to do with all these hours left?" He asked with a smirk.

"I could think of one or two things," you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I do need some time to recuperate," he said, pulling a baggie of weed from his front pocket, "you down with just this for now?" He offered.

"Whatever you want, sweets." You purred at him, kissing him on the cheek. 

#bender #john bender #john bender x reader #benderxreader #benderxfem!reader #breakfast club #the breakfast club #80s fanfic #john hughes #smut #smutfic #lemon #john bender lemon #bender lemon

[harringtonlovers]

HEAD OVER HEELS | WALLY CLARK

chapter 2: jennifer wilde can go to hell

wally clark x fem!oc

set in the 80s

lowercase intended

ao3:

wattpad:

#wally clark fanfic #wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark x maddie nears #wally clark x oc #wally clark fanfiction #milo manheim fanfic #milo manheim fanfiction #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #sabrina carpenter #sadie sink #fanfiction #school spirits fanfic #school spirits #school spirits fanfiction #zed necrodopolis #80s #80s fanfic #80s aesthetic #pls read #pls read my story lol

[itsgaga]

rararara im gonna post some drafts and go through my inbox<3

#80s rock #gnr imagine #gnr x reader #whoops #request #requests #80s fanfic #motley crue #motley crue x reader #guns n roses x reader #gnr smut #gnr izzy #izzy stradlin gnr

[surprise-nikki]

The Sweetest Thing (ns.tl.oc)

ONE

WORD COUNT: 2481 WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni) , mentions of drugs/alc,

Brandi swirled her tongue against the pink cocktail straw, slurping up mainly melted ice and lime garnishes. She rested an elbow on the bar, looking out at all the people that staggered from one room to another. She hardly recognized half of them. Actors, musicians, comedians. You name it; they all filled the walls of this beachfront home. Brandi turned to face the tender and looked at all of the different selections of liquor on the wall. "Can I just get another vodka tonic?" The man nodded, preparing the items. "And for you sir?"

"Yeah, I'll do a jack and coke." Brandi looked the man up and down, strangely admiring his long dark curls and lanky, tatted body. "Some party, huh?" He looked down to the blonde, sporting a sloppy grin. Brandi gave a slow nod as she picked up her drink from the counter. Her lips pursed at the bitter taste. "It's a nice pad, but I've heard the owner is kind of a bitch." He laughed, nudging her with an elbow as they both faced the waves of people that crashed through.

"This is my house." She looked up at him with a flattened expression of disgust. Whoever he was, he was gullible.

The man froze, proceeding with caution. There was no coming back from a comment like that. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand as a lump grew in his throat. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at-"

"I'm kidding." Brandy laughed, swirling her drink with a new straw. "Fuck, you're mean!" He shook his head, flashing the same grin that left her with a flutter in her chest. "Sorry, I had to. I'm Brandi, Brandi-" she held out a hand before being interrupted. "Brandi Wilson! America's Sweetheart. I remember you from MTV." She nodded in embarrassment as he waved his hands to her nickname. "I will pay you to never call me that again."

"We'll, I'm Tommy. Tommy?" He laughed before waiting for her to finish his equation. Only, she had no idea who he was. Brandi winced at the forthcoming awkwardness. "Tommy?"

"Lee. Boy, you really are mean. Aren't ya?" He folded his arms, with a snarky half smile. "I wish I was." Brandi covered her face and shook her head with a laugh. "I know you're in a band... Is it  Motley-"

"Yes it's Motley Crue." He was so chatty, never giving her an opportunity to talk. Normally, she'd be frustrated with this and talking over him. But she was utterly enamored with his charisma and ability to make interrupting so charming. "So have you never listened to us?"

Brandi slowly nodded, "we'll I've heard you on the radio, does that count?"

"No it fucking don't." The musician laughed and stood from the barstool with his eyes pressed shut, smiling in her direction. "What's so funny?"

"I just think that's cool. Y'know that you like, don't give a fuck about us." Brandi forced her drink down before laughing. "It's not that I don't care, I just have more things to do than obsess about boys in a band." She gave a flirty glance, snaking her way closer to him before turning back to the bar. This many drinks made her far more generous with conversation and bolder than she truly was.

"Thank you, please tell Ms. Thomas that this was a lovely party. And that I'll catch up with her soon." She left a tip on the counter and grabbed her bag, only to be stopped by Tommy's hand. "Wait where ya going?"

"Home, the last thing I wanna do is congratulate Heather on another casting." She rolled her eyes in the success of her previous costar. After working together last year, it seemed like she was getting roles from every direction while Brandi was trying her best to stay relevant. Her star was burning out before it even lit.

"Well, can I walk you home?"

"I drove, but thank you." She turned away, swinging the keys around her finger, noticing the lanky musician following behind her. "I told you I drove!" Brandi laughed, as he grabbed her hips, directing her outside of the crowd. "Don't worry. I'm just making sure you get to your car safely." She stumbled over her feet, realizing how much alcohol she'd really had that night. She rested her weight against him, letting him do all of the heavy lifting as she trudged her feet in front. As much as she wanted to focus on the walk to the car, the feeling of his lower body against her tore threw her mind like a bulldozer. "Maybe I should drive. Where's your car, anyway?"

"I'm not letting a stranger drive me home." The blonde shook her head, growing more nauseous as they approached her car. "This is me. Is it hot out here?" Brandi fanned herself with one hand while the other rested against her forehead. The two stopped at a kinetic blue '72 Camaro with two white stripes down the hood. "No way this is your car,  Wilson." She nodded, folding her arms while Tommy scoped the car out. "It was actually my brothers. When he passed away, it was the only thing I wanted. I couldn't let it go to someone who didn't know how much it meant to him, y'know?"

"Even more of a reason that I should drive you home." Tommy smirked, taking steps closer to her. Inches from each others faces, Tommy dug in her coat pocket for the keys before turning back to the car. "Hop in, princess."

They pulled into the complex, neither of them wanting to part. The ride home was full of laughter, a laugh that Tommy could hear for the rest of his life. "Listen to that." He grabbed her hand as they waited for the elevator doors to open, placing it over his chest. "That's my fuckin' heart, dude. I think I'm in love with you."

"Oh shut up." Brandi giggled, rolling her eyes. They took the lift up to her floor, stepping immediately to her living room. "We'll this is where I leave you, huh?" He glanced around from the four walls of the private elevator. Brandi nodded leaning her dead weight against a table, in attempt to untie her boots. "Let me help you." Tommy walked to the couch, sitting beside her as she laid with her back to the seat cushion. He untied the first boot, pulling it gingerly off of her velvety skin.

God, he could see this being a nightly routine. So many times did he fall in love but this was different. This was that fairytale shit. He slid off the other boot, running his free hand up her bare thigh. The blonde looked up at him over thick lashes. "I should probably go." He stumbled out. He closed his eyes in disbelief. He was blowing his shot. "I mean, I'd love to stay but I-"

"It's fine, I'll see you around. Okay?" Brandi propped herself on her elbows with an affirming smile. Tommy nodded, cramming his hands in his pockets as he rose to his feet. Brandi stripped from her jean skirt, letting her white Calvin sweater fall over her upper thigh. Tommy sighed, licking his lips as threw his head back. "Goodnight, Brandi."

"Goodnight, Tommy." She smiled, deviously, as the elevator doors came to a close.

She stumbled down the hall and to her bed, in full disbelief of what happened. Or what almost happened. She pulled the covers over her head, trying to convince herself it was a dream. But still, she couldn't stop from thinking about him. His smell, his eyes, everything was so mesmerizing.

"Brandi? Playboy is on the phone again. Should I tell them you're out of town still?" Brandi nodded, cracking one eye to the daylight. "Ugh, please." She sat up with a yawn, noticing she was still in her clothes from the night before. She walked in her bathroom and began brushing her teeth. "Hey, Jess? How did I get home last night?" She called to her best friend, toothbrush still in her mouth, with no response. "Jess?" Brandi tied her hair in a bun before walking into the living room in awe.

dozens of roses filled her coffee table, end tables, hell even the floor. "What the hell is all this? Are these for you?" She asked as Jess cooked at the stove top.

"What kind of question is that, B? No one falls in love with the Americas Sweetheart's agent." Brandi laughed grabbing the card from the largest arrangement.

In case you needed some band to obsess about -T

She looked down at a small rectangular package in silver wrapping. "So what is it?"

"It's a cassette tape for Motley Crue's new album."

"Motley Crue? When'd you start listening to them?"

"I don't. It's from Tommy Lee." 

"The drummer?" Jess snatched the note from her friend's hand in shock. "What does this mean?"

"I don't know, Jess. We met at Heather Thomas' party last night, he must have took me home." Brandi moved a bouquet off of the couch and took a seat, blushing at the amount of effort Tommy'd taken after one day. "Are you gonna call him?" Brandi shrugged, looking at the phone number on the card. 

"One on One Recording, how can I direct your call?"  "Oh! I must have the wrong number, I'm so sorry."

"Is this Ms. Wilson? You have the right number, one second." 

"It's a recording studio." Brandi whispered to her friend and listening to the jingle playing over the holding period. 

"Brandi? It's Tommy. I'm so glad you called. Did you get my gifts?"

"Yeah, I did. I'm not sure what I'm gonna do with all these flowers. But they are lovely. Thank you, Tommy." 

"I didn't wanna miss your call. We're down here doing some bonus tracks for the deluxe album. I'm gonna be stuck down here all day. You wanna swing by? Give that new cassette a listen?" 

"He wants me to go there!" Brandi covered the speaker to the landline, whispering to her friend. "Don't! They're crazy." Jess looked in disgust to her friend for even considering the possibility.

"Uh, sure! I'll be there in a little while." Brandi shrugged in fear of turning the drummer down. 

"Kick ass. I'll see you soon." And with a click, Tommy was gone. "Ugh, I mean, he was pretty cute." 

"I guess, but it's your reputation on the line!" Jess yelled as Brandi walked down to her room. She pulled out a pair of acid washed jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. Tying her hair into a messy bun, she ran a curler through her bangs to make them look a little more styled. Her makeup, near the same as yesterday, only needed a quick sprucing. 

Brandi stuck the cassette into her player, putting the car in drive. She winced at the hard rock blaring through the speakers. Only recognizing it's title track throughout the whole drive. 

She walked into the studio, looking in each room for the boys. Only to find them in the loudest room with someone banging Tommy's head against the crash cymbals while everyone laughed. She knocked lightly on the door as it slid open. Tommy looked up at the man and pushed him off. "Brandi! You made it! Guys, this is Brandi. Brandi, this is Sixx, Vince, and Mick." 

Everyone gave a polite welcome, leaving an uncomfortable silence in front of her. It was clear, she wasn't welcome and they were having fun before she showed up. "We can just hangout another time, Tommy. It's not a big deal." Brandi slung her purse back on her shoulder with a hand on the door. "No, stay. Please. We're just about to play. You 'gotta hear this, babe." The pet name took her back, but not in a bad way. It was cute, just like him. Only, when they started playing, Brandi pretended as best as she could to enjoy it. 

"How was that, Blondie?" Nikki asked with a smirk. Brandi hit the P.A button and smiled. "Good! You guys sound amazing." 

"She hated it, drummer." Mick mumbled. Brandi blushed, shaking her head. "No, I didn't. I swear!" Lies. 

"Relax, he's just playing." Nikki chuckled, pushing his bangs from his eyes that glowed. "Let's wrap this up. I think we should take Blondie out."

"It's 11am." Brandi interjected, following the boys as they left the room. "Perfect timing." Tommy smiled, dropping an arm on her shoulders. "Just leave your car here. I can take you to pick it up tonight." Tommy hopped on his motorcycle, inching forward to make room for Brandi. 

"You want me to get on that thing?" 

"Or you can get on mine." Nikki called from across the parking lot. Brandi shook her head, hiking one leg over Tommy's bike. "Please don't kill us." 

"Have a little faith, princess." He laughed, looking over his shoulder. They took the longest way possible, ending up at the Rainbow. Camera's surrounding them as soon as they stepped off. Tommy took her hand, walking into the bar. They took their orders, Tommy insisting on ordering for her. 

Brandi pulled the lime from the side of her glass, giving it a suck. "That's my girl." Tommy smiled, sitting beside her in the booth. "So is this what you guys do? Just hangout and drink? I'm not judging or anything-"

"That's only the beginning, Blondie." A waitress handed them a tray full of white powder, making Brandi's heart race at the sight. "I- I have to use the bathroom, could you let me out please?" She asked pushing harder and harder against Tommy's side. "What? Yeah. Move, Sixx." Nikki took his bump before rising to his feet. "Yeah, I'm gonna go look at those magazines. Think I saw one with your dick on the cover." Nikki grabbed at his bulge with a laugh, pinching his nose as he followed in Brandi's direction. They turned the corner away from the group that seemed to pay no mind. 

Nikki grabbed her hand as she reached to push the door open, spinning her around to face him. "What are you- Let me go." He walked against her until her body met the wall. He licked the corner of his mouth and shook his head. The smell of Jack Daniels and stale cigarettes trailed to her senses. "Whatever you're doing to me, Blondie. It's fucking working." 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brandi questioned. It was rare for her to get mad enough to curse, 'America's Sweetheart' could never. He grabbed her face between his thumb and forefinger, cramming his tongue in her mouth. Brandi's knees quivered, tongue fighting back passively. Nikki pulled away, putting a finger to his lips before walking away. 

I wish I could tell you this was a love story. Sure there is love, but this is about deceit, betrayal, and blind unadulterated lust. 

#motley crue #motley crue fanfic #tommy lee #nikki sixx #mick mars #vince neil #80s fanfic

[orcboxer]

those first couple weeks after escaping a time loop have gotta be disorienting as all fuck. all those little cues that used to tell you what's about to happen are now triggers that cause you to brace for something that isn't coming. you have to relearn the permanence of death -- hell, you have reacquaint yourself with the entire concept of finality altogether. everything keeps changing but it never changes back and you keep having to remind yourself that this is normal. "it won't reset anymore," you echo to yourself, over and over and over, like a broken record, like you're still trapped in a loop, like someone who escaped the time loop but was doomed to bring it into the future with them

#orcspeak #edit: this is not about fanfic nor is it about a specific fanfic nor is it about a specific show or movie or book #this post is about the time loop trope itself which occurs in many different stories spanning many different art forms #i don't read or write fanfic and I'm not looking for fanfic recs and whatever character you think this is about there's #an 80 percent chance i don't recognize their name

[gleafer]

A snippet from my 80s romcom comic that’ll debut on my Patreon/Gleafer this spring!

Girls just wanna have fun, yo!

#illustrator #illustration #digital artist #artist on tumblr #crowley #good omens #good omens art #aziraphale #good omens aziraphale #gleafer art #80s #80s music #80s punk #goodomens fanfic #good omens fandom #good omens comic #good omens au #clubbing #girls just want to have fun #femme aziraphale #this is fun! #artist on patreon

[sentient-stove]

“Wait, wait, wait, short baby Robin, back it up. You followed a radioactive green dog into the sewers? With no weapons?”

“Don’t be an idiot Grayson, I always have a weapon on me. It’d be counterproductive if I didn’t. Anyway- the dog disappeared and I was already down there so I followed the voices to this room—”

“You followed voices?!?”

“Do try to keep up.” Damian snipped. “Yes, and there was a room down there, like some sort of tomb and then I pulled this guy out of the coffin there.” And subsequently gave himself mild frostbite he was guessing by the way he still couldn’t feel his hands. Dick looked mid aneurysm at Damian’s minimal explanation but that had the benefit of him not asking anymore questions as he let them into the apartment, offering to take the teenager from Damian wordlessly.

“Did he tell you anything?” Dick pressed fingers to the teen’s wrist, brow furrowed. “Low pulse, okay. Okay. To the living room then. Was he awake when you got him out?”

“For a few moments.”

“And did you ask him for a name?”

“No.”

“Damian.”

“I was preoccupied with finding a living person in a glass coffin Grayson. He did say one thing though.” Besides thanking Damian but he was keeping that to himself for as long as he could.

“What was it?”

“The Packers suck.”

“Like the football team?” Dick questioned and Damian shrugged.

#dc x dp #damian wayne #dick grayson #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc comics #fanfic #wip hell #is it just me or would a Danny Phantom fic set in the 80s would slap #cause like satanic panic factoring into the ghost fear #but that’s not this wip lol #anyway I’m out #he’s! a! phantom! #glass casket au

[tragic-vaudeville]

realest ao3 note i've ever seen

#oh i want to clarify this was not on a depeche mode fanfic #i dont ship real people #yeah #depeche mode #80s music #post punk #new wave #80s #goth music #80s goth #goth #ao3 #text

[howtokillavampire]

commenting on fanfics you like is so meaningful to the authors, I literally got an email notification of a comment on a fic I hadn't touched in five years and the comment made me want to revisit it so I went back and revised the existing material and wrote three new chapters and updated for the first time in forever all because someone took a few seconds to comment on the fic

#it was a samifer fic #its over 80 pages long rn #i havent worked on it lately but its the largest wip ive ever had #samifer #sam winchester #lucifer spn #spn #supernatural #coldflash #mattimir #drarry #superbat #hannigram #jaydick #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom

[strangersteddierthings]

Shovel Talk(s) Part One

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Steve and Eddie aren't even together when Steve gets the Shovel Talk from Eddie's uncle, but it is what tips Steve into talking to Eddie about his feelings, so he's not upset by it.

They aren't dating, not because he doesn't want Eddie, because he absolutely does. It's just that he wants to be sure Eddie wants him back. There are times when he's sure, when Eddie gets into his space a bit too close, or more often, than he does with anyone else. Eddie calls him a thousand and one nicknames, ranging from sweet to irritating but just when Steve thinks that's a perk left just for him, Eddie hands someone else a new nickname (just the one, a voice in Steve's head that sounds suspiciously like Robin says).

Not that any of that is the point. Wayne wouldn't bother to give Steve a shovel talk at all unless he knew how Eddie felt. Wayne is a man of action, and he's never done anything unless it mattered. Meant something. Steve and Wayne have sat in plenty of (what Steve considers to be) awkward silences because Wayne doesn't talk to fill the void of silence.

The point is, Steve drops Eddie off at the house the government so graciously bought for the Munsons, walks Eddie to the door and giving Eddie a hug goodbye. He stays on the porch until Eddie shuts the door and then nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears Wayne call out his name.

"Harrington," Wayne says from the shadows of the wrap around porch.

So, Steve jumps and it's only then he notices that Wayne is sitting at the table and chairs set up on the porch. "Mr. Munson, sir, hi. Hello."

Wayne lets out a chuckle, but it doesn't really sound amused. "I have come to accept that you are nothing like your father, boy, but I do want to make it clear to you, that Eddie means more to me than anything else on this Earth."

"I know, sir."

"I know you do. And while I will forever be grateful that you helped return him to me alive, know that I will not hesitate to make you disappear if you hurt my boy in a way he can't bounce back from."

Steve's not afraid of Wayne, not really, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to flee. He doesn't, though, because he'd gotten enough shovel talks from concerned parents in high school, and he knows they can sense weakness. "I can't promise I'd never hurt him, sir, but I can promise it'll never be intentional."

He can't actually see Wayne's face in the darkness but he feels sized up all the same.

"I believe that, Steve," Wayne says, and it's the first time Steve's ever heard his name leave the man's mouth, "now go home."

-

Wayne's shovel talk was expected. Robin's is not.

"You took Eddie on a date date?" She whispers it as though they aren't alone in Steve's living room. They're laying on the floor in a line, heads next to each other so if they turn slightly to the side they can make eye contact. Steve's not sure why they always end up on the floor for Serious Talk Time.

"Yeah," Steve says, looking away from Robin's face to stare up to the ceiling, "I mean, sorta? We can't like... be open that it was a date, but we went to dinner and a movie and it was nice. Shared a popcorn and played footsie under the diner table."

"Whoa," Robin says. "I never thought you'd- didn't think you'd be brave enough to ask him."

"Me either."

"Steve," Robin sounds serious, so Steve turns to look at her. She studies his face for a moment before she's the one to look away, speaks to the ceiling, "be careful with Eddie, yeah?"

"What? Careful how?"

"I just think you could really fuck him up," Robin says. "You're his first boyfriend, right? That's going to set a precedent for relationships that might happen if you two don't work out. And I hate to say this, because I know you've changed, but like, I saw how a lot of those girls you dated in high school ended up when you broke up with them."

Steve's a little hurt, because Robin's his best friend. She should be giving this talk to Eddie, not him. But, also, he understands. He knows that Robin knew about Eddie's sexuality before he did, knows they bonded over being queer while Steve was still figuring himself out.

Steve also knows that Eddie's never been in a relationship before, Eddie'd told him at much when Steve asked him out. Steve doesn't like that Robin implied that he and Eddie will eventually break up, but no matter how much that thought makes Steve's heart ache, he won't know if it'll happen unless it does.

He just doesn't understand why she seems to think he'll be the one breaking Eddie's heart. It could go the other way.

"Did you OD over there?" Robin asks, trying to lighten the mood.

"No," Steve answers, "I'll be careful."

-

They've been on four more dates before Nancy knocks on his door. She doesn't accept his invitation to come inside. Just starts speaking on his doorstep.

"As Eddie's Capital P Soulmate," is how she starts that sentence, and it makes something hurt deep inside Steve as he tries not to think about Robin, "I am obligated to remind you that I do own several guns now. And I don't miss."

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, because even Wayne was more subtle, "I got it."

"Good. I do know you'd never hurt him on purpose," Nancy says but Steve doesn't feel reassured.

He thinks that, if she really didn't think he's going to end up hurting Eddie she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Right."

"Well, good talk Steve," and then she's walking down the driveway and climbing into her car.

He closes the door and goes to the kitchen to get himself a beer, mostly so he has something to do besides stew in his emotions. He wonders if Eddie has been given the shovel talk, too? Maybe Robin did the same thing Nancy just did. Showed up unprompted, threatened Eddie with some sort of bodily harm, and then just left.

Steve grabs the phone and dials Eddie's number.

"Hello?" Eddie's voice greets him, albeit questioningly.

"Eddie, it's Steve."

"Oh, hello sweetheart," Eddie says, "are you calling for business or pleasure?"

Steve laughs, "business."

"Boo!"

"Listen, uh, I had a question. I just wanted to know if anyone's said anything to you. About us. Or, y'know, specifically about us and our relationship?"

"Uh, not really? A few congratulations, I guess. Why? Did someone say something?" Eddie's voice is level, almost too level, so Steve knows he's trying to keep cool.

"Oh, no! No! I mean, aside from the scary shovel talk from- Wayne, everyone's been surprisingly cool about it. Very supportive," Steve says and even though it's true, everyone they've told has been cool about it, it feels a little bit like a lie.

Eddie laughs, "I can't believe my uncle gave you a shovel talk! You know, I keep expecting to get one from Robin but so far nothing. She must think you're safe in my capable hands."

Steve is safe in Eddie's hand, he thinks, but that doesn't stop the sting that goes through him. "Of course, she does. You've been a perfect boyfriend."

There's a pause before Eddie's voice comes through the phone, soft and quiet, "I'm glad you said so. I want to be. For you."

"You're not allowed to say those kinds of things when you aren't within kissing distance, babe," Steve says, because if he doesn't add humor to this conversation, he's going to tell Eddie he loves him instead, and even Steve knows that saying that a month into dating is too soon, especially over the phone where he can't see Eddie's reaction.

Eddie laughs and makes kissing sounds at him before the conversation shifts to chatting about the day and making plans for the weekend.

-

Steve is trying really hard to not be the person he was in high school but every time he gets to the point where he's being a better person, someone brings up how he used to be. Shoves it back into his face that no matter what Steve does he can't outrun his past.

One such time is shortly after Steve and Eddie accidentally come out as a couple to all of Hellfire. Steve was just dropping off the boys and had stepped inside to chat a bit. Once game time had arrived it had and Steve made to leave, they'd (he and Eddie) had been on autopilot. Eddie'd whined 'where's my goodbye kiss?' and Steve had stepped over, kissed him goodbye, and was out the door before it had actually computed.

Steve had burst back through the door, rushing back to Eddie, because no way in Hell was he going to leave his boyfriend to deal with whatever the consequences would be alone.

It had been absolute chaos at the table with people shouting over each other.

"Of all the people you could be with, you picked Steve!? You could do better!" Mike had whined, and Steve had thought for sure he was the only one who had heard Mike until he saw Will punch his arm and hiss his own 'don't be a dick' at Mike.

It took almost half an hour to calm everyone down. It was a relief to know that Eddie had come out to his bandmates/the older Hellfire members already. The kids took it in stride, in the end, and Eddie had shoo'd Steve away.

Jeff had excused himself, too, and Steve thought he was just going to use the bathroom but instead he followed Steve outside.

Ah. Steve knows what's coming.

"Harrington," Jeff says, "can't say I'm excited that you're the secret boyfriend Eddie's constantly sighing wistfully about. I'm sure Wayne's already threatened you," And Robin, and Nancy, and Mike doesn't think he's good enough, "but if you hurt Eddie-"

"I get it! There will be dire consequences if I hurt Eddie," Steve snaps, not down for hearing it anymore. He stomps to his car and peels away from the curb without bothering to look back.

-

If he's being honest, Steve didn't even know he had a breaking point with shovel talks until he gets his fifth one from Dustin.

It's not even a shovel talk. It's just a single sentence, said almost a month after Dustin learned about their relationship. He's dropping Dustin off after their DnD game. Normally Claudia picks him up, but she's busy tonight and asked Steve to do it.

"Alright, Henderson, safely delivered."

"Thanks, Steve," Dustin says, unbuckles his seatbelt, and opens the door, before turning back to Steve. He just looks at him for a moment.

"What?"

"I'm happy for you and Eddie. Just, don't hurt him, ok?"

He nods his head but can't say anything. Dustin grabs his backpack, shoots him a smile, and climbs out. Steve does wait until Dustin closes the front door behind him before putting the car back in gear.

He manages to get home, somehow, because Steve doesn't fully remember the drive. It's not that his mind was so focused on something else that made him fail to take in his surroundings, but rather that his mind wasn't even a part of his body anymore.

One moment he was pulling away from the Henderson residence, and the next, he was home, just standing in his kitchen in the dark. And now that his thoughts are back, or easier to process, he finds himself wondering why everyone thinks that he's going to be the one to hurt Eddie.

How many people has he hurt that this is his reputation? Is it inevitable that he will hurt Eddie? Is it truly just a matter of time until he breaks Eddies heart? Why is everyone so convinced that he will?

Briefly the thought occurs to him that maybe he should call up Eddie and break up with him right now, before Eddie has a chance to get in deep enough that Steve could break his heart, but just the thought of it breaks Steve's heart, so he's not going to do that. Doesn't want to do that. That would just be punishing Eddie for something he didn't do.

None of this is Eddie's fault, and Steve's an asshole for even thinking of breaking up with him because of it. Which feeds him back into the loop of thinking that maybe everyone is right about him. He is an asshole and will someday hurt Eddie, perhaps even on purpose.

He loves Eddie. He's in love with Eddie. But does loving him mean proving his friends wrong? Or does it mean leaving him before they're proven right?

He wants to ask everyone why they think he'll hurt Eddie.

He wants to ask everyone why they don't care if he's the one that gets hurt.

#steddie #my fic #we like making steve a sad emotional mess right guys? #steve-centric #we gotta make the boy Sad so that his boyfriend can fix him #is that healthy? not IRL but this is fanfic and if i want Love to solve all the problems then im allowed to do that #only itll be in part two #that might get written one day #is steve putting words into his friends' mouths #yeah duh the boy needs therapy but its the 80s so hes not getting any

[artiststarme]

Steve was used to being a disappointment. He’s let down his parents the moment he was born and continued to do so with nearly every choice he made. He disappointed the entire student body at Hawkins High right when they thought he might actually be someone important. And he let down the kids every time they asked for something he couldn’t provide.

He never thought he’d disappoint Robin though. She wasn’t fond of his dating tales of woe or his frankly pathetic work ethic at Family Video but he’d never seen the familiar spark of disappointment in her eyes. Not until he told her that he’s broken things off with Eddie.

It wasn’t like he’d wanted to either, despite their obvious differences, they made a great pair. But they wanted different things. Eddie wanted a cat when Steve wanted a dog. Eddie wanted to saunter in the streets and parade their relationship whereas Steve wanted to remain comfortable and committed at home. Most of all though, Eddie wanted to leave but Steve needed to stay.

Robin couldn’t understand that. She’s always wanted to leave the dead end town she’d been trapped in and planned to as soon as she raised enough funds. She was made for bigger and brighter things.

Steve, though, he wasn’t. He was meant to stick around and watch the kids until they left for school and grew up to lead happy lives. Steve was meant to stay the burdensome housekeeper of his parent’s home until either they kicked him out or he inherited it upon their death. He didn’t have the education to get jobs better than Scoops Ahoy or Family Video nor the experience that demanded anything better. He’d peaked in high school and everyone knew it.

Except Robin until that very moment. He watched the disdain form in her eyes and the hopes of their combined future leave her plans. By breaking things off with Eddie, he’d let both of them down. Eddie would leave without him to be the big rockstar he’d always wanted to be. He wouldn’t notice Steve’s absence. Robin would leave to go to school and become a professor or a linguist or a therapist, anything she wanted to do. But Steve would still be in Hawkins wasting away like he’d always been meant to…

Or so he thought until the day Eddie and Robin ganged up to kidnap him from Hawkins and start their lives together in the city.

Eddie became the world’s coolest rockstar, even more famous than Metallica or any other idols of his youth.

Robin became a social worker that assisted LGBTQ+ youth and at risk kids that needed her help.

And Steve became a novelist that sold his enchanting stories of monsters and super powered teens from alternate realms, of young men that fell in love with each other over cereal and bat bites, and chosen family that didn’t give up on each other.

Steve was no longer a disappointment to the people who mattered most to him (he’d soon realize he never was). Best yet was that he no longer disappointed himself. He could lounge in Eddie’s arms at night and spastically harass Robin during the day and the only emotion he ever saw in their eyes was love.

And annoyance from time to time but does that really count?

#lots of ups and downs with this one lol #did not know where this was going 80% of the time #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley

[rwprincess]

Broken (BenderxFem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 6.5k (ish)

Synopsis: Bender meets a Nouveau Riche girl at a party and is instantly smitten. He thought he had learned his lesson with Claire, that two classes clash, but he hopes it will be different with reader, as she seems as broken and lonely as him. Songfic for Broken by Lovelytheband.

CW:  Underage drinking/drugs; ‘psycho’  and ‘freak’ used in the pejorative sense; rich/preppy kids being jerks; references to familial abuse and fights; angst (feelings of being undeserving, break ups, purposeful verbal harm); happy-ish ending (but it feels somewhat unresolved to me?); 2nd and 3rd person POV shifts.

Shout out to @80strashbag for making me want to finally finish this fic.

They agreed that they could 'still be friends,' and Bender would be damned if he caved first. So, he put on an unaffected face as he entered the party Claire invited him to. He shoved down his reminiscent feelings of rejection from Claire regarding their break up, the embarrassment for still caring about it even though it was a month ago, and his nervousness at showing up at a place he truly did not belong. Claire apparently knew some rich kid who was living in his parents' guesthouse so he could pretend to be independent while still being technically under their roof. The security that the opulent had so that they could believe they had survival skills made him chuckle to himself; no way this kid ever spent a night on the street. John had been alone and responsible for himself since these kids were cutting their teeth on silver spoons and now they wanted to pretend to be like him. Being on your own isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

As he entered, no one seemed to pay him any mind, and for that he was grateful. He looked as displaced as he felt, but the booze already seemed to be flowing (and at a party like this, he expected that there would be much stronger drugs than alcohol being exchanged) and he was of no consequence.  He spotted Claire, some new bozo with his arm around her waist, showing her off as an accessory.  Might as well go say hi; the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could leave. Although, as he looked around, he thought it might not be so bad. In addition to libations, there were a lot of pretty women around, presumably with parents to piss off the way he had done with the Standishes. He smirked, relishing the thought. 

So, he made nice and clung to Claire and, ugh….Kevin, as he didn't know anyone else. Luckily, a few shots down the hatch allowed him to be more amicable to the latter and he started loosening up a bit, maybe even enjoying himself despite Claire's ramblings about how the place was decorated so much like a New York apartment and isn't that great?  But the drinks caught up to him and he unceremoniously excused himself with a, "gotta take a piss." Claire rolled her eyes and waved him off in disgust, but at least he got a laugh from Kevin. As he sought to join the lengthy queue, his gaze landed on the most gorgeous, brilliant creature he had ever laid eyes on.  

 I met you late night, at a party

Some trust fund baby's 'Brooklyn loft'

He sidled up behind her, and for the first time in his life, smooth-talking John Bender was tongue-tied. Even inebriated or stoned off his ass, he was used to being clever. Witty. He'd built up enough immunity to substances to still maintain control of his faculties, generally.  But maybe it wasn't just the liquor that was affecting him. He drank in her beautiful features faster than the several shots of vodka he consumed prior. Shermer High wasn't that big, but he was sure he had never seen her before. Then again, maybe she went to some prep school that cost her parents more money than he'd see in a year; it was that type of party. His eyes raked over the curves of her body, the outfit perfectly and delicately draped over her frame to draw attention to the right places, although he was unconvinced that there was any feature of hers that wasn't in contention for 'best.' She was alone, unaccompanied in this line the same as he was, just looking forward. But she must have sensed his fixed stare, or maybe he was breathing too heavily or she really could hear his racing heartbeat as the organ thrummed against his rib cage (it was audible to him at least). And she looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with him. His eyes grew wide, afraid he had been caught. Bender had been caught engaging in so many infractions that he thought he was immune to feeling guilt over them anymore, but he was susceptible to that gaze. She surprised him with a kind, easy smile and turned to face him more. "Hi," she said softly, sweetly, and he was hooked.

"Hey," he replied back. He hoped it came off aloof enough to be cool, but not so much that it was dismissive. He craved her engagement, so he gestured to the line, "sucks, huh? You'd think it was a line at Disneyland."

She tilted her head, trying to read him before responding, "Definitely. An E-ticket ride, even."  He couldn't help but laugh, even though it was a stupid and kind of outdated joke, but it seemed truly original to him in that moment and he just wanted her to say more, even if she made him flustered.

By the bathroom, you said, "Let's talk"

But my confidence is wearing off

Their conversation flowed easier and more plentiful than the setup of kegs at the party as they shuffled forward in the line. He almost forgot why they were there and wanted to linger as she gestured to the open bathroom door, finally up for her turn. "Well, I should probably…" she trailed off, indicating why they had come here in the first place.

"No, yeah, definitely. Have at it." He said, and even though she chuckled, he felt like an idiot as she closed the door. He rubbed a hand over his face. Who encourages a hot girl to use the bathroom, he told himself in frustration.  When she exited, he awkwardly went in, hoping he'd spot her around later. However, she was standing outside the door, on the opposite wall of the hallway, waiting for him when he departed the small room.

"I hope it's not too weird but… I don't really know anybody here anymore. Can I stick with you?" He contained his excitement enough to remain cool, keep up the facade as usual.

"Ok, sure." He took her along and introduced her to Claire and 'the boy toy,' as he nicknamed him in only a pitch she could hear, close to her ear and in as neat a whisper as he could get in the loud environment. However, they didn't stick around. Bender wanted, no, needed to be the center of attention, to get to really know her, so they branched off and wandered outside so that they could exist as just the two of them. 

Well, these aren't my people, these aren't my friends

"I don't know, it's not really my scene." Bender gestured vaguely at the building,  "I don't think I've ever been to a place with a 'guesthouse' before,” he chuckled, trying to make the dig seem light.

"Honestly? Me either. This isn't my scene, I mean. I don't really like parties…or people." She laughed and the sound was addicting. "I'm actually really glad you suggested coming out here.  It's less…overwhelming."

"So then, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asked, waggling his eyebrows, eliciting another laugh. I could get used to that, he thought, even though truthfully he wondered how he ever lived without it.

"Well, long story short, my dad recently played the stock market well and wanted to make a lifestyle change with his good fortune."

"Ah, so you're one of those." Bender said before he had a chance to filter the thought. Of course, he had a deep-seated prejudice against the richies, but he suspected she had to be one initially, just from her being here. Although perhaps part of him hoped she was in a similar situation to him, after all, he was here and he was dirt-poor.

Luckily, she didn't take it in offense, "I guess so," she smiled. "But as much as my dad wants it,  I don't know, I feel like things haven't really changed. That I haven't changed. But that's absurd. Of course they have; look at what I'm wearing!" She laughed and Bender acted as though he hadn't already converted every stitch of her outfit to memory and pretended to examine it for the first time. "But it's not me, not really. He made me enroll in a new school and some of the girls have been nice, more or less. And that's why I'm here. I came with a girl named Stacy. I think she's friends of a friend with whoever lives here, but… she bailed right after I came out of the bathroom. Some newer and better party, I guess. Or she met someone, I don't really know."

"So, why did you stay? Why not just leave with her and go to the 'newer and better party'?" He asked.

"Well, like I said, not really my scene. A bigger party?" She scoffed, "no thank you." She looked down and continued quietly, as if afraid to make eye contact or too much sound, and Bender leaned forward, intent to hear the secret, "and, truthfully, I wanted to keep talking to you." That delivered a blow right to his heart, pow, full on knockout.

Bender was never good with emotions, or with being defeated, so he fell quiet for a moment, but then admitted, "I'm glad you stayed." She seemed to drop tension in her body, as if she were relieved. He hadn't expected either of their admissions to have much weight to them, but they opened a door and he let his guard down quickly. Even though John had a tendency to overshare when he was angry or feeling particularly theatrical, an intimate setting like this would usually make him clam up. He didn't usually describe his life to strangers, despite what the Breakfast Club might think. But here, under the inky sky dotted with bright white stars, he divulged himself. Y/N didn't feel like a stranger, though. And with each reveal, he didn't feel judgment, but rather, acceptance.

She hesitated a moment before cupping his face in both of her hands and confessing that she felt the same, that there was already a bond and a trust there that neither one could explain. 

She grabbed my face and that's when she said,

"I like that you're broken, broken like me

Maybe that makes me a fool

I like that you're lonely, lonely like me

I could be lonely with you"

They stayed there far too long, and yet it would never be enough. Bender felt like he could spend an eternity with her, listening to her stories and uncovering her past. However, she had some sort of curfew to meet. It seemed that, unlike his parents, hers actually gave a shit. He extended the trust and allowed her to give him a ride to his house.  Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that this was real…or that it wasn't. Either way, seeing the crap-shack hellhole that he lived in would be a test. She didn't run for the hills or even comment on it. Instead, she leaned over the console to kiss him goodnight. It ignited his lips in a way that he questioned why he had wasted so much time with any other girl before. The simple answer was that he didn't know what he was missing, that only because he did not know of her existence did he not fill this empty ache sooner.

After that night, he couldn’t let her go. Not that he would ever want to, but he was sure he was purely, physically incapable of doing so. He needed her presence the same way he needed to breathe; she gave him inspiration, life. He didn’t have the funds to take her out on proper dates or get her the things he felt she deserved, so he did the next best thing and gave himself to her, wholly and openly…something he had never gifted to another person before. She made the guard drop so easily and she, in kind, opened up to him. She spoke to him about family members and friends she’d lost. How her life had been uprooted by her father’s desires to play pretend and how she still felt like she didn’t fit in. She was completely lost in this new world and John felt like a tether to the old one.

“I feel like some sort of imposter, you know? I never have any idea what any of them are talking about. I’m not in the loop for the hottest trends and they’re always, like, condescending about it.”

“Those bitches,” Bender scoffed and she laughed melodically, a sound that always put him at ease.

“I don’t know if they even realize they’re doing it, or if it’s just so ingrained in their personalities at this point. I can’t imagine what it’s like being brought up that way. I’m sure you get that,” she looked to him for reassurance and he nodded, “I must seem like an alien to them. A real freak.” She let out a lamentable sigh and John shot right up, bracing her chin and along the expanse of her neck, gently coaxing her to look at him.

“No one could ever think that about you. So you don’t know what the in band is or if mini-skirts are going to still be fashionable in the fall,” he snorted dismissively at the thought, “So what? You’re smarter than they are, you have a kind heart, you know what actual hardship is…and you’re more beautiful than any of them could ever hope to be.” He leaned in, murmuring the last of these words, letting his lips brush against hers before he applied pressure to fully kiss her. “They’re probably just jealous. And if they’re not, they should be.” She giggled and returned his kiss, stretching her fingers over his shoulder and tugging on the leather jacket she found there, twisting it into her clutch and pulling him closer. He pulled back and looked deeply into her eyes.

There's something tragic, but almost pure

Think I could love you, but I'm not sure

Hers flicked back and forth between his warm rustic irises, trying to read his thoughts and verify his sincerity. She hadn’t known John long, but she believed she really knew him. He had been upfront about his typical nature, and Claire had confirmed that for her at one time. She told Y/N of how she met Bender and how he had made her cry and that they would fight. There was always passion between Bender and Claire in their relationship but it depended on the day, or rather the minute, whether it manifested positively or negatively. Looking at him now, hearing his words of adoration and never a slight in her direction, Y/N had trouble believing that that was true.

It was clear that John was hurting. He had a lot bottled up inside and never knew how to express it appropriately. The symbols of previous fights stayed behind, their scars running deep. Some were literal: cuts and bruises that she watched heal over time. Some were from others at school or people he encountered in the streets, but most were from home. The marks to his soul, however, were evident in his speech and his desperation to change his situation…but also in the way he talked to and about her. The dark notes were there when he spoke of school, of some man named Vernon who really had it out for him, and how he felt trapped and as though he’d never amount to more. However, there were rays of light, and she could see them now, there in those deep brown pools staring softly back at her. He wanted to do better, to be better for her. And, around her, he truly felt he was. Everything in her life had shifted, but looking into John’s eyes, she felt at home.

There's something wholesome, there's something sweet

Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

Another party. At Claire’s insistence. And somehow, she roped both of you into it. This time, she invited the whole lot of you to a party you mentioned; she didn’t even know the hosts. 

“This girl, Theresa, she’s in my science class and she asked me to come to her birthday party but---” You started.

“Oh my God, we have to go.” Claire declared instantly, cutting you off.

“What?” You asked, surprised.

“You didn’t even let her finish,” John scoffed.

“C’mon, Y/N, this is the perfect opportunity to mix your circles. We could get to know them and they could get to know us. You could debut your relationship with John.” She said, giving a little wiggle of her shoulders to entice you into joining her excitement. Instead, you just grimaced at the idea of interacting with a bunch of people, particularly ones you hardly knew from school.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that will be the talk of the town. I’m the number one debutante around here, after all.” John snorted at Claire, but she waved him off.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun! You never know what can or will happen. I mean, you two found each other at a party, so why not?”

“I don’t know, Claire. I think she was just asking to be nice because I was in earshot--”

“Or, more likely, to gobble up more presents,” Bender interjected.

“But I don’t really know her or if we’d get along.”

“That’s why you go! To see if they’re someone to hang out with! Come on, please? I’m dying socially. I feel like I haven’t been out in forever.” Claire whined and you instantly felt guilty for keeping your circle small and for being a homebody.

“Jesus, Claire, really?” John began, but you overlapped him.

“Okay,” you replied, defeated and deflated. Claire squealed in delight that you had agreed and John rolled his eyes.

Bender tried; he really did. He even asked Claire for fashion advice from the best pieces in his closet. He arrived at the party, hand-in-hand with you. You thought he looked handsome as ever, and could tell that he’d put in extra effort, ‘dressed-to-impress.’ Claire blended in perfectly, as did Kevin. Both of them were used to the theme of elite and knew the right style to portray themselves in. Claire had practically dressed you and even leant you complementary pieces of jewelry so that you could play the part as well. However, that just made Bender look and feel more out of place. Amongst the four of you, he definitely stood out and he could feel people’s cold, hard stares as your group walked past. 

Truthfully, you wanted to be able to get this over with as soon as possible, so you sought out the birthday-host quickly. “There she is! Let’s go say hi, drop off the gift…”

“What’s the rush?” Claire asked, as if your hesitation to come tonight wasn’t already obvious.

“I uh…just thought it would be rude not to let her know we came. And it’s awkward to carry around a gift bag all night,” you lied.

“I’m sure there’s a table set up somewhere to receive gifts,” Claire said.

“Oh, of course there is,” John said mockingly, “just like a bar mitzvah.”

“We should still make an appearance, right? I mean, make ourselves known?” You asked, unsteadily. 

“Yeah, yeah! That’s a good idea,” Kevin said, trying to be supportive. You weaved your way through the crowd and stood by until there was an appropriate moment in between well-wishes.

“Hi, Theresa! Happy birthday!” You said, standing with one hand wound tightly in John’s, squeezing it for some kind of reassurance and grounding, the other hand thrusting a gift bag in Theresa’s direction. She chuckled haughtily in response.

“Why, thank you. Who are…all these people?” She said in a passive-aggressive tone, and you realized that people brought a plus-one at most, generally. Claire quickly introduced herself, showing that she fit in and should be welcome in this world, although her attire had already communicated that. She also introduced Kevin, who shook hands and earned a warm smile for his cleancut handsomeness. Then her eyes shifted to John. “And who, pray tell, is this?” She asked, noticing you clutching onto him.

“Uh, hello. I’m John. Bender.” He said, almost stilted in his tone. He wanted to make a good impression for your sake, but he wasn’t sure how. He was out of place here.

“My boyfriend,” you added and Theresa giggled.

“I see. Well, nice to meet you all,” she replied in an insincere tone. It was about as fake as everything else in your new lifestyle. “I should be going, though. Plenty of people to see. I’m so glad you could make it, Y/N.” She flashed a fraudulent smile, perfect and pearly, before she left.

“Can we go now?” You whined to Claire, but she shook her head and pushed your shoulder, leading you deeper into the house.

“There’s gotta be something to drink,” Kevin said.

“And something to dance to. Come on!” Claire urged. 

You tried to ignore the glances, the gapes, the guffaws. You tried to convince yourself that you were imagining it, that your anxiety was getting the best of you; you were seeing things just because you didn’t want to be here. It was more difficult to pretend when someone approached your group. 

“Hey, I can’t get this bottle open.” He shouted over the din.

“I’m sorry?” You said, not sure if that was an appropriate response or what he was looking for.

“Well, I thought I’d come over here and ask if you had something to help me,” he turned to John, “You look like you have a bottle-opener or maybe a switchblade on you.” He said and his cronies behind him cackled, making it clear that you, or more accurately, John, were the butt of their joke.

“You’re goddamned right I do,” John growled in response, making the guy’s joyous expression fall. He clearly didn’t seriously think this, and suddenly his joke became a terrifying possibilty. He backed away in a hurry, his friends grouping around him with eyes that flickered back to John cautiously. They had a hushed buzz among them, discussing him more, and above that, you could hear ‘I think that’s John Bender. I’ve heard about him. He’s a real psycho.’

You felt the flex of John’s arm muscle under your hand. “Hey, they’re not worth it,” you reminded him, “let’s just go.” You started to usher him out, Claire and Kevin joining you expeditiously, while he looked back over his shoulder at the group and grappled with what he wanted to say and do. In the end, he settled on a mild middle finger. You were relieved that it wasn’t something much worse. You tried to calm him down and impress upon him that the people there were losers, that you didn’t care what they thought, but he seemed uneasy, even when you dropped him off at his house. You felt tears stinging in your eyes as you watched him walk up the cracked driveway; he meant so much to you and you hated seeing him put down.

These aren't my people, these aren't my friends

She grabbed my face and that's when she said

I like that you're broken, broken like me

Maybe that makes me a fool

I like that you're lonely, lonely like me

I could be lonely with you

He thought he had changed. He could feel the tendrils of alteration happening in his heart, in his life. He fell for you so easily and was so trusting…but that party reminded him of the undeniable: you both were from two different worlds. It was going to implode just like his and Claire’s relationship had. So, he did what he did best and put the walls back up, steeling himself for self-sabotage and promising himself that it would hurt less if he initiated it. 

It started with missed calls and denying dates. Half-assed excuses of having to work or having another detention. Putting distance between himself and you was his best bet. It was easier to resist you when he wasn’t looking at you or talking to you. He would have succeeded too, if you weren’t so determined to care about him enough to seek him out. He was shocked and a little upset to find you sitting outside his house. He hadn’t even noticed your car parked down the block; he wasn’t prepared for the confrontation and immediately withdrew into a guarded stance, balling his fists at his side.

“John,” you said, standing up from the curb in front of his house. “We need to talk. You can’t keep dodging me like this. That’s why I thought I’d finally come out here. Please.”

“There’s not much to say,” he sniffed, trying to act cool. In kind, you tried to act like those words didn’t strike you as harshly as they did.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I thought it would be pretty obvious when I stopped returning your calls. There’s nothing to say to you anymore.”

“How can you say that?”

“We’re two different people, Y/N. That party made that clear. Crys-tal.” 

“I’m sorry for how they acted, but I told you, John, I don’t care what they think.”

“Well I do,” he spat back, “I don’t need to be dragged along to dinner parties like some pet, or--or freakshow.

“Do you think I wanted that reaction for you? That I’m showing you off for a laugh or something?” You asked, incensed. He couldn’t really think that, right? Surely he knew how you truly felt about him, how much you cared. But he gave a lazy shrug in response, refusing to meet your eyes.

“That’s your world now and there’s no part for me in it. Whether you agree with it or not. Just how it is.” 

“So, you’re just going to be blase about this? And say…I don’t know, what, that we’re done? Just because some idiot that neither of us knows or will ever see again said some shitty thing to you?” 

“Yeah, princess. I guess so.” He started to brush past you, but you grabbed on to his wrist, lightly.

“Don’t you care?” You asked him softly, unable to hold back your tears any longer. As they wove broken paths down your face, Bender resisted the urge to wipe them away and to take it all back. This was what was for the best. So, he bucked up and swallowed hard.

“No. It was fun while it lasted, kid.” He pulled out of your grasp and stormed forward to his house. He wasn’t about to let you see him cry.

Life is not a love song that we like

We're all broken pieces floating by

Life is not a love song we can try

To fix our broken pieces one at a time

“He’s miserable without you. You’re all he talks about,” Claire said as you two were sat in the food court at the mall, pleading with you to try to resolve your relationship with John.

“That’s surprising. He was the one who left, who broke up with me,” you reminded her.

“That’s just what he’s like, Y/N.” Claire said and then sighed, “Look, I don’t get it, either. His logic, I mean. He does and says stupid shit like that all the time, to avoid being serious and honest.”

“He didn’t seem like he was joking to me,” you huffed. Claire wasn’t there that night; she didn’t understand the heartbreak. You were too hurt to magically ‘fix’ this, even though you wanted John back and wanted to believe that he felt the same way without you.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just---John doesn’t know what it’s like to be loved, Y/N. He’s never known that, not really. I don’t think he knew what to do with it when it came from you. I think it scared him. Like…like he wasn’t good enough, like it wasn’t normal for you to care about him. But you two are so good together. I think he needs you. And you love him.”

You looked away, pushing your finger against your lower lashes, stifling the tears gathered there. You did love John and Claire wasn’t telling you some big secret. He was open about his family and how they treated him. How many relationships had ended in a fight or someone forgetting him. You just hadn’t thought of that being a factor in him leaving, that he was running and hiding from something unfamiliar. But you didn’t know what to do about it. Bender had cracked your heart in two and left you crying on a dusty curb in front of his house. 

“I don’t know, Claire. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we’re too different. Just not in the way he said. I can’t stop this feeling, this pain. Maybe we shouldn’t be together. How would I know he’s not going to run off again?” You asked and she had no reassuring answer for you, only a look filled with sympathy.

~*~*~

“You’re such a dumbass,” Claire told John bluntly.

“Well good morning to you too,” he grumbled back gruffly.

“I saw Y/N yesterday, John,” she clarified and his back stiffened.

“Oh.” He said flatly. No zinger from John Bender today.

“Yeah.” Claire nodded, and when he didn’t fill the silence, she continued, “You really hurt her, John.”

“That’s how it goes sometimes,” he muttered, taking no culpability.

“I know you don’t mean that. You never shut up about her. You don’t really want her gone. You especially don’t want her to suffer. And that’s why you’re a dumbass. Because you caused all of this, even though it isn’t what you want and it’s killing her.”

“You don’t get it, Claire. I mean, you should, but you don’t. So I’ll spell it out for you. I am not cut out for high society.” He dug his fingers into his chest, then gestured at her, “Exhibit A.”

“Just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean it’s the same with her,” Claire rolled her eyes. “We fought all the time, John. Even when we met. But with Y/N… you’re so different with her. You should see yourself, how she impacts you.”

“I know exactly how she impacts me, thanks.” He started gritting his teeth. Cutting himself off from any other emotion and replacing it with anger, as always. “I have nothing to offer her in return,” he admitted.

“That’s not true, John,” Claire sighed pitifully, “you have yourself. Your humor, your love. She obviously misses you and feels the pain without you every day. It doesn’t matter if you’re not in the same tax-bracket or whatever. She loves you for you,” she poked a finger into his sternum, commandingly, “And you shouldn’t throw that all away.”

~*~*~

It never got easier, admitting that Claire was right; but Bender had to swallow his pride and do just that. He missed you, that much he was certain. But he also acquiesced to the idea that maybe she was right that you needed him, too. He couldn't fathom why; he never felt like he improved anyone's life, but Claire had said you were just as miserable in his absence, and a tiny shred of hope within himself begged him to believe her. 

So, that's what he was doing outside your house now, having taken two buses and walking several miles to get here. It didn't matter if he felt like he was going to collapse in a heap on your threshold, he just needed you to open the door…and prayed that you'd give him the chance to make things right, to get you back into his life. He mustered up the courage to knock, half-afraid that you wouldn't be the one to open the door, half-afraid that you would be. While he didn't think he was ready to meet your family, (he was prepared to make that sacrifice if you requested it),  he could just envision your proud, wealthy father turning him away in disgust; a punk like him would never be good enough for a daughter like you. 

Both fortunately and unfortunately, you opened the door and stood in shock; he was the last person you expected on your doorstep. At this point, you would have welcomed a pushy salesman or a religious zealot. Instead, you felt the scarred-over portions of your heart tear open anew. "John," you said weakly, but your surprise got the best of you. It was an automatic response. In turn, he pushed down the rushing sensation of how good it felt to hear you say his name again after all this time.

"Y/N, I know I fucked up. Royally. But if it's all right, I ---I want to talk. To make up for it."

"I don't know if you can," you said, cracking his heart. But yours was just as damaged and longed for him. He didn't know it, but you couldn't say no to him. You're not sure you ever could have; he'd had you since day one. "But you can come in anyway."

You sat down out back, a place which held so many particularly good memories before, but had been tainted in John's absence. He had nowhere to start. He acted tough and confident, but it was all just that: an act. And he knew that you already knew that. He didn't know how to 'sell himself' or make you believe he was worthy of another chance, especially because he wasn't sure he believed it himself.

"So, uh," he cleared his throat and his eyes darted around warily, fearing to connect with yours. "Claire said she saw you and that you wanted to talk to me."

"Imagine that. It's almost like I've called you a hundred times and told you that myself, right before you broke up with me." He winced at how bluntly you put it and wanted to dodge the feeling of guilt that hit him. But he couldn't run. You were worth it to stay, to try.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do then. Or now, really. I just--" he finally looked up and glancing at your face dissipated any hope he had at maintaining his composure. Tears pricked his eyes instantly and he was unable to blink them off, so they began to pool instead. "I have missed you every second since then. Since before then. I thought I was doing the right thing, that that would be better for you, but. But Claire said it's just as hard for you, too." He trailed off and swallowed hard, trying again to keep the tears at bay, and you let him sit with his silence for a moment before confirming.

"It is. I've missed you just as much. Maybe more, but you hurt me, John. And I know you know that. That was the whole point, wasn't it? To try to make me not want you anymore?" He nodded and waited for something along the lines of 'well guess what? It worked. I'm totally over you, now get the fuck out of my house,' but that didn't come. 

"It was exactly like that. That night at the party I--- I know you didn't care and you didn't see it that way, but it made me realize that I truly have nothing to offer you. All I'm ever good for in a relationship is for someone to get the thrill of dating a 'bad boy' or to piss off their parents."

"John," you cut him off, "it was never about pissing off my parents or making a statement. I liked you for you. You always saw me as I am, not what someone else wanted me to be. You saw the person lost in the shift between one life and another and--- and I thought we were the same. That you got that because you were like me. We're both broken in different ways and neither of us fit in anywhere, but we fit with each other, ya know? And…and when you left, it was like being all alone. I couldn't relate to anybody anymore because there's only one person who really, truly gets me, and that's you. That's what I get from it. That's what you have to offer: yourself and that connection. I never wanted anything else."

He took a moment to process that. "Y'know, no one's ever told me that I'm enough, before. They've always wanted me to be better, to be someone else. To change. I guess I just didn't know what to do when someone didn't expect that from me. It just didn't seem possible…like it should be some sort of trap. That's what I'm used to. I shouldn't have put that on you. I was just---scared. And I didn't think it would really hurt you. I mean, everyone else got along just fine without me. When I hurt someone, it doesn't last. It just pisses them off enough to get rid of me and to save themselves. They bounce right back. I didn't even consider --- anyway, that doesn't matter. I'm sorry. That I did that to you, that I left you alone." He began quaking, the tears refusing to be dammed anymore. He knew what that was like; he'd felt alone most of his life. Unless he was with you. He looked up to see your face mirroring his, just as broken-hearted without the other, but you gave him a faint smile underneath your tear-tracked cheeks. 

"Just don't do it again," the smile then dropped and your quivering voice was dangerously quiet, "I don't want to be without you again."

"I don't deserve you. Or another chance," Bender whispered back as you approached. He didn't want to sucker you in through pity. That wasn't why he was here.

"John, I just want you, how you always were to me. Can you do that?" You asked and he nodded, startled by you taking his hands, "then that's good enough. That's what I want, what I need. You just can't run away again when you're scared. I need you, John."

"I won't. Never again," he replied, sincerely. John Bender wasn't known as being a man of his word, but this was one promise that he never betrayed. 

I like that you're broken, broken like me

Maybe that makes me a fool

I like that you're lonely, lonely like me

I could be lonely with you

#breakfast club movie #the breakfast club #breakfast club #benderxreader #john bender x reader #bender #john bender #80s #80s fanfic #romance #ya romance #angst #angst with a happy ending

[harringtonlovers]

HEAD OVER HEELS | WALLY CLARK x OC!

chapter one: bad hair day

first chapter of my wally clark x oc! book has been posted! please share 🫶

ao3:

wattpad:

#milo manheim #sabrina carpenter #wally clark #wally clark x maddie nears #wally clark fanfiction #wally clark x oc #wally clark x reader #wally clark fanfic #milo manheim fanfic #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim fanfiction #school spirits #school spirits fanfiction #peyton list #sadie sink #80s aesthetic #80s fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #maddie nears

[idyllicwillowtree]

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me.

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader wears makeup, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, reader is called princess, swearing

Author’s note: I got this idea from an episode of Freaks and Geeks (which is an awesome show I totally recommend). Peanut allergies weren’t so common in the 80s so that’s why Jason is so ignorant and dismissive about it.

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, I was hibernating.

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1:

Eddie proudly sauntered into first period with his head held high and a smirk on his lips. His mouth was watering in anticipation. He plopped himself down in the seat next to yours, wide eyes and a wicked grin plastered on his face, an eager hand open towards you.

“Wow Eddie. It’s 7:29, you got here with a minute to spare,” you said as you leaned over to grab the bite size Laffy Taffy from your backpack to place in Eddie’s hand. “I think this candy reward system is really working.”

“Of course it worked, it was your idea after all. But today’s a special day, I was definitely not going to not be here,” Eddie said with too much energy for this early in the morning. He stuffed the yellow taffy into his mouth and chewed it like a happy 5 year old, wiggling in his seat with excitement.

“Are you talking about the photo?”

“Yeah! Hellfire finally gets a spot in the yearbook. We shall finally leave our mark on this cesspool we call a school,” Eddie said through the glob of candy in his mouth. He swallowed the treat harshly as he got a good look at you, “you look great by the way.”

“Yeah?” you said shyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You started fiddling with the hem of your Hellfire shirt, “I thought I’d go with a bit more eyeliner today.” 

“Yeah, you did a great job princess.” With the excuse of admiring your eyeliner, Eddie was able to take a moment to study your features. Your gaze stayed on your hands, picking at a loose thread.

“God, Eddie. You’re so in love with me,” you said with a teasing smile. 

Eddie barked out a laugh, dimples on full display as he tried not to let your words affect him too seriously. 

“Great, the flirting freaks are back at it again.” Jason remarked from a few rows behind you. Both of you turned around in time to see Andy dramatically fake gagging.

Before you could hurl an insult back at them, Eddie took notice of what Jason was snacking on.

“Hey asshole, you can’t eat peanuts in class.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna stop me, Munson? You?” Jason said through a full mouth, spitting out chunks as he laughed obnoxiously with Andy.

You simply rolled your eyes at Jason, annoyed with the jocks and their willingness to tease and fight so early in the morning.

Eddie’s grip tightened on the back of his chair. His white knuckles caught your eye and you reached out to sooth him, hoping he wouldn’t start a fight he couldn’t finish. The second your hand landed on his, the tension in his shoulders deflated and the fire in his eyes was snuffed out as he sent you a reassuring smile. 

Jason waved around his ziplock tauntingly, “Seriously freak, let’s see if you can actually take these from-”

“I’ll take those,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she walked in behind Jason and snatched the bag. “Mr. Carver, you know you’re not allowed food in my class, let alone peanuts.”

“But coach said we have to protein-load before the game tonight,” Jason wined.

“Too bad. Some allergies can be very serious,” You shrunk in your seat as the other students turned to stare at you, knowing you were the one she was referring to. “You can get these back after class,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she rounded the corner of her desk to address her students. “Now, everyone, please open your textbooks to chapter six.”

You, being the diligent student you were, immediately followed orders. Eddie on the other hand didn’t even remember to bring his book bag to school, but at least he got his candy. 

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

“I’m serious guys, I might have a crush on Mrs. O’Donnell now,” Eddie said to his bandmates as they sat in their unofficial assigned seats in the cafeteria.

“Just because an older female authority figure agreed with you and shut down Carver, doesn’t mean you should crush on your teacher dude,” Gareth said, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

“Besides, you already have a crush,” Jeff added with a teasing smile, the metal on his teeth catching the fluorescent lights.

“Are you guys talking about my sister?” Dustin said while throwing his lunch tray on the table, taking a seat next to Eddie. The rest of his sheep following close behind.

“No-”

“Yes,” all three of the older Hellfire members said in unison.

Eddie shot them a look that would’ve shut them up if the metalhead’s pale cheeks weren’t tinted pink. 

“Gross,” Dustin added.

Mike’s brows did their signature furrow under his dark bangs, “I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just ask her out?” he said, purposefully ignoring Eddie’s presence at the table.

“GROSS,” Dustin repeated, hoping the subject would change. 

Eddie was right there with him, picking up a pretzel and hurling it at Mike’s head, “I’d rather not share the complexities of the friendship-to-relationship pipeline with a baby freshman. And I. Don’t. Like. Her.” He growled, punctuating each word with a pretzel.

The metalhead’s angry scowl melted off his face at the sound of your laugh echoing through the high ceilings of the cafeteria. You were standing near the entrance with your Wonder Woman lunchbox in tow, tilting your head back as you chuckled at something Robin Buckley told you. 

That was until Jason and his entourage of goons followed him in.

He had that damn bag of peanuts in his hand, swinging it around mockingly. Eddie watched as you became tense, eyes wide and glossy. You are practically hiding behind a fuming Robin.

Before the blonde could hurl her trumpet case at the jocks, Eddie stepped up behind you both, placing a ring clad hand gently on the small of your back to let you know he was there. 

With his hand grounding you, you finally found your voice, “seriously Jason, if I come into contact with a peanut I could die.”

“Oh come on,” Jason said through a chuckle, “you’re that much of a freak that a little peanut is enough to kill you? I think you might be overreacting just a little.”

“Actually,” Dustin said as he came over to stand next to Eddie, “Anaphylaxis is incredibly dangerous. Allergic reactions to the proteins found in peanuts are cause by immunoglobulin E antibodies and can trigger severe inflammation and-”

“Dude, even her brother is a fucking dork,” Andy spat.

“Hey, don't talk to him like that,” Eddie said, stepping forward. You have always admired his fierce determination when defending your brother and the other freshmen. It’s part of what drew you to him in the first place. But this time there was no snarky comeback to Jason’s bullying. The severity of the situation on top of the jocks’ disregard for your safety was just pissing him off, making him uncharacteristically no-nonsense. 

The group of letterman jackets erupted in a chorus of ‘oooohs’. The leader just licked his lips, eyeing Eddie before smirking at you.

"You know, you might be pretty if you actually tried." 

It doesn’t have the effect on you that Jason had hoped, you could care less if he thought you were pretty. But before your athletically inexperienced friends could take on the basketball team, you plastered on your best fake smile. 

“Thanks Jason, see you guys later,” you said as you pulled your friends away leaving him confused and unsatisfied by your reaction.

“What the hell, you’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” your brother protested.

“He’s never going to change, Dustin. I might as well play into it since he’s just trying to get a rise out of us.”

You wave bye to Robin as she went to sit with her band friends, all of them decked out in their extravagant green and yellow uniforms. Eddie slid Dustin’s tray away from the spot next to him so you could set your lunchbox there and sit at his left hand side. Dustin was muttering something about losing his seat but still scooched down, knowing there was no use in fighting it. Eddie always had you right next to him.

The next few minutes of lunch went by rather smoothly. Groups of students were taken out sporadically to go to the photo room and get their yearbook club photo taken with Nancy. Occasionally, you’d catch Jason sending you angry glares but you just ignored him in favor of listening to your fellow Hellfire members. They were rambunctiously throwing out theories about tonight's campaign while Eddie just sat there with his version of a poker face, not willing to spoil anything with a teasing grin plastered to his mouth.

His eyes connected with yours, feeling you staring at him. The moment he looked at you you bashfully lowered your eyes to the cup of applesauce you were stirring around. Eddie kept his gaze on you until Nancy walked up behind him.

“Alright Hellfire, you’re up,” Nancy said with a smile. 

This was the first year Hellfire club was getting any sort of recognition in the yearbook. Previously, the teachers and students didn’t want to draw any more eyes to the alleged cult and their leader. Now that Nancy worked for the school, she played a big part in securing a photo for her brother’s club in the yearbook. Even though Eddie never liked conforming to frivolous High School expectations, he still felt honored. It was his last year after all (hopefully) and he wanted to make his mark.

You and the rest of the Hellfire members left your things at the lunch table and walked out of the cafeteria for the yearbook room down the hall. Your open applesauce was forgotten about as you followed Eddie out.

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

Your shoulders were still buzzing after taking the photo. Eddie had thrown his leather clad arm around you, pulling you closer to him, while his other hand did the sign of the horns. The smell of his cologne and the texture of his battle vest overwhelmed you so much you hoped it didn’t show in the photo. Although, the smirk Nancy sent you tells you it might have.

You and the rest of Hellfire sat back down in your original seats, besides your leader. As expected, Eddie had a lot of things to say in honor of your club getting recognized so he opted to stay standing.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Rejoice, for this day shall be etched in the annals of history as a testament to our unwavering spirit and valor!”

Going back to your lunch, you scoop up the velvety applesauce to resume eating. Expecting the familiar taste of sweet and tart, you flinched at the salty crunch and swallowed it on instinct. 

“Let it be known that we have weathered the raging storm of schoolyard bullies, and emerged victorious! Our banners flying high, unfurled in the winds of destiny,” Eddie continued, not noticing your trepidation.

You frowned at the tickle in your throat that only continued to build as you tried coughing discreetly. The rest of the boys grinned, believing this was your way of hinting at Eddie to wrap up his speech.

“Let us raise our voices in jubilation, for today, we have proven that nothing is insurmountable to those who believe in their cause!” Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.”

Part 2

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #henderson reader #dustin henderson #hellfire club #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #robin buckley #fanfic #mutal pining #friends to lovers #peanut allergy #whump #jason carver #netflix #80s #angst with a happy ending #angst #fluff #corroded coffin #hurt/comfort

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

Info About the 80's As Provided By My Dad, Who Graduated High School in 1987:

No boxers, no briefs, ONLY tighty-whiteys.

The Satanic Panic was something discussed primarily by adults to try and sway more voters toward Reagan.

EVERYONE had their ears pierced. Men, women, everyone. My Dad still wears his little diamond stud sometimes.

Crop tops and tube socks were a popular combo for high school and college guys.

Long hair was masculine and having decent hygiene was a big deal.

You took a girl to the roller rink on the first date to show off and then to the drive-in on the second date if she wanted to make out.

Here are some good metal bands to include in your fics: Judas Priest, Queensryche, Slayer, Ozzy, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Saxon, Scorpions, Ratt, Quiet Riot, Joan Jett, Pat Benetar, and Alice Cooper.

Vinyl cost between $1 and $4 on average.

Minimum wage was around $3.50.

Jorts for men. Good fuckin' lord the cutoff jorts for men...

The stoners knew everyone and everything.

If you're writing a fic or making art and have any questions for Mark about your Historical Accuracy, please feel free to send me an ask and I'll text him.

He thinks this is fun.

#stranger things #netflix stranger things #the 80's #80's aesthetic #back to the 80's #rock and roll #metal music #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #st fanfic #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #historical accuracy #stranger things shitpost #stranger things meme

[cranberrv]

dating dallas winston headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a/n : aghhh first post on here!! lowk kind of nervous, but i thought this would be a strong way to start since everyone loves dal <3 i really hope you enjoy lovelies !! requests are open ! ( not proofread btw, ignore any mistakes <3 )

- dating dal is something special, because he doesn’t really do long-term

- so people know that you’re different, a girl he actually wants to keep in his life for a while

- it’s electric, to say the least. it’s hard to keep your hands off each other

- even in a non sexual manner, he finds himself always wanting to touch you in some way

- keep in mind he is much less than a gentleman, forgetting to open doors for you and not bringing you flowers on dates

- but he cares. and that’s something

- small gestures like a hand around your waist or always keeping an eye on you at parties. brushing down a fly away piece of your hair with his hand, making sure he’s on the side of the sidewalk closer to the road, to keep you safe.

- that’s how you know he cares about you, not through grand, movie-like gestures

- sometimes he cares a bit too much, getting too overprotective

- some drunk guy talks to you at the bar? he mysteriously leaves with a black eye. and god forbid someone touches you in a manner he doesn’t approve of, someone might be ending up in the hospital.

- you get into arguments about that sort of thing, saying he’s being too dramatic or that you were capable of defending yourself.

- actually, you get into arguments about everything

- he’s usually the one to start them. if he’s in a bad mood, he will find anything to argue about. wether you teased him and he took offence, or you stole his jacket because it was chilly

- he’s defensive and cocky, and will not end an argument until he gets the last word in

- maybe muttering some rude name at you under his breath, or interrupting you until you finally give up

- you should not expect to win any arguments with him and his stubbornness

- he’s not gonna apologize either, unless it’s something really serious, like if he made you cry

- then he’ll ghost you for a few days, then come back and apologize

- other than that, most arguments either end in cuddling or him ghosting you for a week or so

- speaking of cuddling, he only really likes it whenever he’s tired or tipsy. he’ll lazily wrap his arms around you in bed, and keep you there. there’s no way you’re getting up

- rubbing your back with his hand, holding you to his chest, planting kisses on your head are normal occurrences during these peaceful moments

- cuddling him is about as rare as the northern lights, so you take advantage of it

- other than that, most nights end in make-out sessions

- sleepy kisses are his absolute favourite, his lips lazily caressing yours

- he’s always in control, don’t even try

- his big hand holding your head in place, and his other hand holding your waist

- he loves kissing you. everywhere he possibly can. head, lips, cheek, forehead, neck, shoulder, everywhere.

- he loves making out at the drive-in (or more cough cough), it’s so risky and he looooves PDA

- he often takes you to the drive-in or the dingo for dates, nothing fancy

- he always picks you up at your house, he doesn’t wanna meet you there in case you’re first and it looks like he’s late

- the torn leather of the passengers car seat becomes a common place for you to sit, he loves driving around with you

- your parents don’t trust him or his driving, based on the amount of times dates have been cut short because he’s been pulled over and taken to the police station for speeding

- so because of your parents aversion to him, whenever he wants to visit you, he just sneaks into your bedroom

- he thinks he’s being subtle with that, but yet your parents can always smell the cigarette smoke and leather the next day

- in conclusion, dating dallas can be very layered and complicated, but overall, very fun and exhilarating <3

#dally winston #the outsiders #dallas winston #dallas Winston x reader #dally winston fluff #dallas winston fluff #headcanon #imagine #dallas #outsiders #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dating dallas winston #dallas winston fanfic #matt dillon #80s movies