#but the other aw characters i was gonna pick were:

[ilkkawhat]

Top 10 fictional characters? Answer in images/gifs?

first off, the core four, the four characters that will always be at the top. alan's in first place right now in my head just cause i relate to him on too many levels:

Alan Wake (Alan Wake)

2. Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)

3. Dale Cooper (Twin Peaks)

4. Nick Stokes (CSI)

and some others from various fandoms just to spice it up cause otherwise i was just gonna go with more alan wake characters lol

5. Miles O'Brien (Star Trek TNG + DS9)

6. Heather Mason (Silent Hill 3)

7. Louise Belcher (Bob's Burgers)

8. Jesse Faden (Control)

9. Niko Uusitalo (Sorjonen)

10. Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars)

#but the other aw characters i was gonna pick were: #saga rose alice barry odin #and jaakko of course too #and casey

[lovergojo]

WHAT AM I, YOUR CHAUFFEUR?

summary: In which you sit in the backseat of your lover’s car, instead of right next to them.

characters: SATORU, SUGURU, MAKI, MEGUMI

cw: kissing, reader referred to as passenger princess in Suguru’s other than that no pronouns are mentioned, POC friendly, no skins tones mentioned!

SATORU

Picture this: you park in the parking lot of your local mall. You’re here to pick up your wonderful lover after shopping. As you sit and wait, suddenly familiar hands wrap around you and cover your mouth and you’re stabbed in the chest.

This is basically what Gojo Satoru feels like when you get in the backseat of his car instead of your spot, which is right next to him in the front passenger seat.

“You might as well as kill me.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Satoru.”

“Be honest, do you even love me?” He turns around in his seat, his cerulean eyes peeking over the rims of his glasses.

“Satoru-“

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine, I mean we’ve only been dating for 3 years and it’s fine if you want to throw it all away because you’re practically saying you don’t love me right now!” He’s voice grows louder until he’s practically shrieking, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Okay! I’m sorry!” You quickly get out of the car trying to hide your smile. You open the car door and get in and look over at Satoru to find him beaming at you.

“Oh hi baby!” He says way too happily and leans over to kiss you on the lips. Again. And again. And again.

“…Hello ‘Toru, how was your day today?”

“It was great, until my lover decided to stab me in the back.”

Yeah, don’t expect him to forget about this. He will bring it up to you no matter what

“Toru, what do you want for dinner?”

“To not be stabbed in the heart by my lover.”

No matter what.

SUGURU

After fitting all of your groceries into the trunk Suguru’s trunk, he helps you close it and you both get into the car. Except you sit in the back seat.

Suguru didn’t even realize you were sitting back there, he was still just waiting for you to get in the front seat, and when you didn’t he turned towards you curiously.

“You’re gonna sit back there?”

“Yeah.”

“Not in the front seat?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“…Yeah?”

He hums and shrugs his shoulders and says, “Okay then, I guess you don’t want to be my passenger princess and use the aux cord huh?”

And that has you quickly sitting up and getting out of the backseats to sit next to Suguru in the front seat, who had a smile on his face the whole time.

“Changed your mind huh?”

“Shush.” And you lean over to kiss him on the cheek as an apology.

He grins at you before pulling out of the parking lot, one hand on the wheel, and the other intertwined with yours as they rest on the center console.

MAKI

Maki holds your hand as you guys cross the road from the restaurant you too stoped at for a date.

As you two approach the car, she goes to the passenger side to open the door for you, only for you to ignore the open door and open car door to the back seats.

You don’t have to look up to see the narrow look she gives you, before going over to you and standing outside the open car door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Your eyes wide at her stern tone.

“Getting in the car?”

All it takes is for Maki to keep staring at you before you slowly get out of the back seat and and close the door before facing her and trying to cuddle up to her.

“So now you wanna be cute?” She says with a raised eyebrow.

“Aren’t I always cute?” You look up at her with a smile and she clicks her tongue before rolling her eyes and wrapping a hand around your waist before planting a sweet kiss on your lips

“You are. Bratty, but you are.”

You laugh and she smiles at you before guiding you back to your seat, which is right next to her.

MEGUMI

Megumi waits in the car as you say goodbye to Yuji and Nobara after watching Human Earthworm 4, which Megumi has no idea why it even exists in the first place, so he opted out to save himself from the horrible sight of that god awful worm thing.

Megumi is so focused on how pretty you look with the sun hitting you perfectly, that he doesn’t even realize that you’re sitting in the backseat until he sees you passing by the door to the front passenger seat.

You buckle yourself in and smile at Megumi nonchalantly.

“Hi ‘Gumi, how was your day?”

He freezes, staring right at you with a frown on his face.

“Good…what are you doing back there?”

“Hm? I thought I’d sit here this time.”

“Why though?” He questions, he looks to the empty front seat next to him. There’s no trash in the seat, and nothing on the floor too. Was the seat to far back?

“No reason.” You have a hard time hiding your smile because of the constipated look on Megumi’s face. He looks so focused on trying to find out why you won’t sit next to him, you accidentally let out a laugh and he’s whipping his head towards you and sees you smiling, before he lets out a groan.

This time, you let your laugh flow out freely from your lips and your moving to get into the front passenger seat, leaning over the center console you kiss Megumi all over his face.

“Sorry ‘Gumi, don’t be mad okay?” You say, still smiling into his cheek.

“Hmph.”

note: FIRST TIME WRITING FOR MAKI AHHH SO EXCITED AND DO YOU GUYS LIKE THE NEW BLOG THEME?? IT’S CUTE RIGHT???

#gojo x reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #maki zenin #maki x reader #maki x you #maki zenin x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader

[flseur]

꒰ 𐙚 teacher’s pet — jjk men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : desperate to get recommendations for your grad school applications, you decide to take on the role of a TA for your favourite professor and help them out, in more ways then one.

⟡ characters : gojo, geto, kento !

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, age gap ( reader is in early 20s! ), teasing, blowjob, praise kink, hair pulling, jealous / possessive sex, implied creampie, fingering, cunnilingus

౨ৎ note : listened to skin by rihanna to help me with this. please enjoy ! ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

❥₊ ⊹ gojo was so pretty like this. his usual cocky demeanour was gone and instead he had his cheeks covered in flush and his pink lips between his teeth.

satoru was not your first pick for who you wanted to TA for. everyone in the communications department knew how laid back and careless he was as a professor, yet no one wanted to be his TA because of that. so when it came to asking around to get the job, he was the only one taking teaching assistants at the time.

“ah… just like that, baby.” he whines, thrusting up in your mouth causing you to gag a little then pulling back to look at him. “shit… ‘m sorry, you’re just so fucking good at this.”

you roll your eyes at him, feigning annoyance then kitten lick at his tip, tasting the saltiness of the precum. while your hand wraps around the base of his cock, slowly jerking up and down.

“baby, baby, please put it in your mouth. please.” he babbled, rutting his hips upwards.

deciding to stop teasing him, you give in, giving the head of his cock one last lick then spitting on it and using your hand to spread it over his cock before taking him fully in your mouth again.

“fuck yeah… oh m’god… so fucking good.” he moans, his hands on the side of your head guiding your mouth up and down on his cock. you were just so… messy, and satoru fucking loved it.

he loved how swollen your lips were from when you were making out with him on his lap, he loved that the lip gloss that you were wearing is smeared on the corner of his lips and his cock, and my god does he love the way you look when you take it in your mouth.

“keep going… gonna cum…”

and you decide to pick up the pace, your other hand coyly reaches up from where it was on the ground to massage his balls in your palm.

“shiiiit, i’m cumming, i’m fucking cumming, y/n!” satoru sobs, abruptly pulling out of your mouth, tugging on his cock and groaning then spilling his cum on your face.

“seriously, satoru? you couldn’t cum in my mouth?” you complain, whipping some of the sticky fluid off of your cheek.

“sorry baby, i’ll make it up to you.” he chuckles, reaching over to grab some kleenex from his desk.

“yeah, you better. how about you grade those midterms and i take the week off?”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

❥₊ ⊹ as a computer science major, you remember your first year intro class well since it was the start of your programming journey. because of that, when you started to look for TA jobs, you wanted to help with a first year computer science class, which happened to be geto’s.

geto was easy to work with, and understanding when it came it mistakes that you made. you really liked him, and he really liked you. but maybe, a bit too much which led you to this predicament.

“mphm, fuck! suguru!” you gasp, feeling the cold surface of the mahogany desk against your cheeks.

geto lets out a short chuckle, leaning down to talk in your ear, “yeah? feels good baby?”

“m-mhm! ah…!” you cry, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes. each and every thrust of suguru’s was well-calculated, the head of his cock was hitting that spongey spot in you and the sheer thickness of it was splitting you open deliciously.

“aw… poor y/n…” he mocks, “must’ve fucked your brains out, huh? you can’t even form a sentence…”

and all you can do is sob in response, because how were you supposed to respond when he was fucking you this good? so good to the point where you’re seeing stars in the middle of the afternoon.

suguru can’t say that he’s not jealous even if he wanted to, because he is jealous. when he turned over and seen that freshman shamelessly flirting with you and staring down your shirt at your cleavage, he seen red.

no one should see you like that.

and no one but him will see you like this. with your mini skirt flipped over the globes of your ass, a hole ripped at the crotch of your stockings, and how much you cream on his cock.

they also won’t know how fucking amazing you feel. how your pretty little pussy flutters on his cock, how you clamp down on it saying “‘s too much, suguru!” but continue to swallow him in then beg for him to cum inside, and they won’t know how it feels to fill your cunt full with cum.

because only he will, no one else.

୨୧ NANAMI KENTO

❥₊ ⊹ nanami was always your favourite professor and you were always his favourite student. so when you asked him if you could TA for his economics class, he wasn’t going to say no to you.

when it came to coming up with lecture plans, marking student’s assignments, and leading discussion groups, nanami always made sure to help you with anything you needed, anything.

“shit… mmph! k-kento…” you moaned out loudly, your manicured hands run through his blond hair, softly tugging at the strands. he has you sprawled out on his desk in his office, all of his knick knacks messily pushed out of the way and your skirt flipped upwards with your black lace panties pushed aside.

nanami groans into your pussy at the feeling, “shh, sweetheart… can you stay quiet for me?”

and as much as he’d love for you to be loud so everyone could know how good he was making you feeling, there were still students, other TAs, and professors still in the office building.

“yeah… ‘m gonna be quiet for you…” you mumble out, staring at the man between your legs. and what a sinful sight it is.

his usually put-together appearance completely diminished. tousled hair, his white dress shirt is unbuttoned, and his head is ever so sensually peppering small kisses in between your inner thighs.

“good girl…” he coos at you, then returning to his ministrations and pressing a light kiss to your puffy clit. kento licks a long stripe up your slit, gathering your slick on his tongue and savouring the taste of you then slipping a finger into your messy hole, hitting the right angles that makes you see stars.

but it wasn’t enough, you need him. all of him.

“ah, need more kento…” you beg, gently pulling head up by his hair. “fuck me, please.”

and who was he to deny you? kento hastily unbuckles his belt, pushing his khaki pants and boxers down, then lets out a hiss when the cool air meets his throbbing cock.

“fuck… you think you’re prepped enough to take me, baby?”

“yes, mr. nanami.”

flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.

#𐙚 works #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #gojo x you #geto x you #nanami x you #gojo smut #geto smut #nanami smut #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #kento nanami x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #suguru geto x reader smut #kento nanami x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujtsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[bunni-v1]

hii,

Can i request che‘nya, neige and rollo finding out you‘re a girl please?

(Just if u weite for em)

Freaking love ur serie 😍

Side Characters Find Out You’re A Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Rollo

Info: Che’nya, Niege, and Rollo x Reader

🍓Thank you! I'm glad people enjoyed this series so much, it was very fun to write. This is the last part I'm afraid, but I hope it is a fitting goodbye to what has been a very long-running series now lol. Excited to move on to other things!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing

Che’nya

-Oooooo, Che’nya knows something is up the moment he (creepily) stalks you and the others from the garden.

-His sniffer isn’t as good as Leona’s — he’s just a tomcat, after all — but he can smell that something about you isn’t right.

-Plus, he’s a master of bending the truth, he can see through your lie a mile away.

-Still, he has no reason to bother you about it — he doesn’t even know you. 

-He just thinks you’re a little funny that you’d hide something as pointless as this.

-Doesn’t really have confirmation on it until he asks Cater at the tea party.

-Then he later asks Trey who is like ‘Yeahhhhh…’

-Again, he doesn’t really know you, but he does think you’re cute and stuff.

-He sees your around when he sneaks on campus, and he was happy to bump into you at the VDC.

-(He scored your number there, lets go Che’nya).

-Nah, you two don’t really get to interact until Noble Bell College.

-He’s excited to see you again, and really chats you up this time (everyone there thinks its weird, he literally has no reason to talk to you).

-You’re alone with him and Niege and Grim when he drops the bombshell of “A pretty girl like you should be wearing a dress, right?”

-You don’t know if Trey or Cater or even Riddle told him, but you were gonna deck them across the face the second you found out.

-Still, despite him outing you to Niege, he’s really only mildly annoying about it.

-He teases you and picks on you about it, but he’s more like an annoying older brother than a creep.

-He will hang it over your head though, because they way you get all huffy is funny and cute to him.

Neige

-Other than Che’nya— Neige really doesn’t suspect much.

-I mean, look at him and Vil. Feminine men is not his biggest concern.

-He respects you and your pronouns and he’s a real big sweetheart.

-He is… drawn to you, just a little. 

-You’re different from the other students, and you managed to make friend with Vil, so excuse him for being a little curious.

-Despie Vil being vehemently against it, you and him exchange numbers and start talking casually.

-It’s pretty normal stuff, and it’s not like you’re talking every day, but you consider each other friends at the very least.

-You’re both very excited to see each other again at Nobel Bell College.

-Neige feels bad that you’re sort of forced to go and babysit, but he gets to see you again!

-You bump into him and Che’nya at the fesitval, and Neige is… notably weirded out by Che’nya’s overt friendliness with you.

-“He’s never this nice with people he doesn’t know — never. It’s so weird.” He tells you.

-You brush off his concerns, and you live to pay for it too.

-You and Neige were just chilling, talking, and hanging out for the first time in person and Che’nya walked over and joined the conversation.

-All is good until he drops the one-liner of a century, leaving both you and Neige in shock.

-You because how did he find out, Neige because oh my god you’re a woman.

-He feels even WORSE for you now.

-I mean, being the only woman at NRC has gotta be awful.

-He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, bless his soul.

-He just shrugs it off and also offers his room as sanctuary on the weekends if you need it. 

-He does agree with Che’nya, though, you would look very pretty in a nice flowing ballgown!

Rollo

-Bless this little freaks soul. He is about as sheltered as Malleus and about ten times more evil.

-He, somehow, knows something about you is different from the get-go. Not just your inability for magic, no something more.

-Naturally, he is drawn to you, and evermore curious about you and your life at NRC.

-He, being observant, takes note that you are treated slightly differently by your fellow classmates.

-They are generally more respectful and courteous toward you — gentlemanly in some cases.

-It only makes his interest in you grow. What is it that is so special about you? 

-Then he overhears a conversation with Niege and Che’nya, and it all makes so much sense!

-You are a woman, of course you are. No wonder you were so captivating.

-Rollo holds this card close to his chest — he needs not reveal his secrets.

-Malleus is fond of you — as are the other magicians here. That could be useful.

-This information could aid him in his ultimate plan — and he could be your savior from the beasts you live amongst. 

-He reveals that he knows your gender in front of everyone at the festival, and takes you captive as his own.

-He is so diluted in thinking that he is your saving grace, and that what he is doing is so right and justified that he can’t hear you curing him out over his own thoughts.

-Obviously, you get saved by your friends and all is well, but now a whole lot of people who shouldn’t know you are a woman do, and Crowley has to do a LOT of PR work lol.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #che'nya x reader #che'nya twst #rollo flamm #rollo flamme x reader #neige leblanche #neige x reader

[mylonelylittlestar]

My little star

Characters: Xavier Summary: random relationship headcanons with Xavier Warnings: None A/N: I've completely fallen in love with Love and Deepspace, especially with Xavier. It's truly hopeless

the type of boyfriend to get you matching pyjamas

he gets you so many that they slowly start to replace all of your own

likes to match with you even if you don't live together, so sometimes he just texts you to ask which pyjamas you're wearing so he can change into the matching one after he showered

if you ever gift him slippers, blankets, or pillows, he will keep them forever (even if it's something goofy like those big fluffy bunny slippers)

the best person to ask for good midnight snacks. He can recommend fantastic instant noodles, chips, crackers, or other snacks that are light and won't give you stomach aches late at night or negatively impact your sleep in any other way

very interested in your skincare routine (if you have one) and will try out any mask or cream that you give him

if you come up with a routine for him (a simple one, maybe, like the basic cleanser > toner > moisturizer), he will follow it diligently, dragging himself out of bed before he sleeps every day to do it because you were the one to pick those products for him and he doesn't want to waste that

he feels like it connects you to him, even if your routine is completely different and a bit more complicated

never cries during movies, no matter how sad they might be, but he does (on very rare occasions) get a bit teary-eyed

he will hold you if you cry during a movie, and he would never even think about making fun of you for it

he does secretly think that it's cute that you get so worked up about a movie

can sleep through anything. a bomb could go off in his house and he wouldn't know that it happened until he woke up

has seen every single episode of any shitty sitcom you can think of at least three times because he occasionally watches them while he sleeps

sometimes he quotes them but because he knows each of these shows so well now he always quotes the lesser known scenes and no one gets what he's talking about

you start to understand his references after a while, so sometimes he will quote some obscure scene from a super unpopular sitcom that got cancelled after one season and you're the only one laughing

secretly sneaks to the arcade sometimes to practice the claw machine game because he wants to get you the plushies you don't have yet (and to impress you)

he ends up getting dozens of repeats of plushies that you already own. he collects in a small storage room in his apartment that used to be empty

he ends up giving them away when the collection gets out of control, donating them to a children's hospital nearby

gets all shy when you find out about it, blushing bright red like a tomato (or a wasabi octopus)

knows about every single 24 hour store in the city because of his odd sleeping habits and always knows what to do no matter what time it is

you can't sleep and want to go on a date at 3:27 am? he knows a place

if someone is mean to you he will try his hardest to deescalate the situation, but he's also fully willing to fight the person if that doesn't work

I mean have you read his Anecdotes 2? He doesn't give a fuck. He'd prefer not to fight, sure, but if it's unavoidable? What is he gonna do? Not fight and defend you? Ridiculous.

The fandom has already started turning him into this soft uwu stereotype, but the thing is that that's... just not him? He's sweet and kind, yes, but that's not all he is. He's complicated! He has layers!

if he ever falls asleep during a date he would feel awful about it for days, even if you reassure him that it's fine and that you're glad that he feels safe enough around you to fall asleep

he tries to make it up to you with a different date and he falls asleep again, which starts a vicious, endless cycle

when he finally does get over his guilt it's only because you fall asleep during a date after you had a long day at work

knows when you cheat in kitty cards, but sometimes he just lets you get away with it, especially if he knows you had a stressful day at work. He hopes that the win will cheer you up

his good night kisses are forehead kisses while his good morning kisses are on top of your head if you didn't sleep over or on the cheek if you did

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #xavier x reader #xavier fluff

[malarign]

riki as your boyfriend!

(soft moments with him)

contains: bf!Riki x gn!reader | genre: fluff | tw! kissing (lmk if i forgot about something!) | wc: 1,4k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreaciated!!!

author’s note: idrk that he said he would confess in a cool way, here he is a soft and shy baby </3

other members’ versions: LHS - PJS - SJY - PSH - KSW - YJW

��� watching horrors together only to have you in his arms *ೃ༄

As much as Riki didn’t want to admit it was one of his favorite feelings in the whole world. Especially if you were scared and wanted to be as close to him as it’s physically possible. That’s why he enjoyed watching horror movies with you. He exactly knew what reaction he could expect from you, so it was your go-to movie genre whenever you had a movie night together. The way you buried your face in his chest or neck made his heart flutter and cheeks flush with a bright blush which he tried to cover up by laughing and teasing you.

“Do we really have to watch that?” you asked tucking on his sleeve.

“It’s a really good movie, Y/nah, you’re going to like it,” he reassured you, knowing damn well what your reactions are gonna be.

You silently read the description. Of course, a horror movie. What else could Riki pick? You bit your lips, mentally preparing for all the jumpscares and awful characters that await you.

None of you were wrong. For the first 30 minutes of the movie when nothing really happened you thought it was not going to be as bad as you thought, only for the worst to show up on the screen. You flinched at the loud sound and sudden jumpscare and tugged at his arm this time, earning a laugh from him. Your reactions were in his eyes none but endearing, they also made him want to protect you at all costs.

Without saying a word you cuddled to him, seeking comfort in his arms and calming scent. Riki just wrapped his arms around you, occasionally rubbing your back when other scary scenes showed up.

“You’re such a baby,” he spoke and added quickly seeing your fake mad expression. “My baby.”

➶ wearing your hair tie on his wrist *ೃ༄

Being the forgetful person you are you often kept on either losing small stuff like hair ties, which to be honest wasn’t very comfortable, especially on windy days. You would curse yourself for not taking anything to tie or pin your locks with. That’s when Riki comes to the rescue. Knowing your habit he kept on one hair tie on his wrist just in case you forgot one. Sometimes he would even offer to tie them for you, gently brushing through them with his fingers or a comb.

Looking down at you struggling with your hair Riki couldn’t contain his smile. The wind had no mercy on you today, making your locks go in all the different directions possible. When you were on the verge of fuming he silently walked behind you taking all your hair in his hands. He gently brushed through them, careful not to hurt you. He tied them with a hair tie he kept on his wrist into a comfortable low ponytail that you were so used to.

“Thank you,” you spoke sweetly and looked up at him.

“No problem,” he said, returning your baby tone to you.

You climbed on your toes to plant a quick kiss on his lips leaving him blushing at unexpected affection. You took his hand firmly

➶ face lighting up when he sees you *ೃ༄

This is something Riki just can’t help with. Whenever he is waiting for you at home, or you just ran at each other, he can’t contain his big and bright smile. Watching as his eyes slowly disappear and his face lifts at your sight make your heart feel warm and skip a beat or two. In the beginning, he tried to contain himself but with time it began to be even more difficult, so he just gave up, showing how much he was whipped for you.

Riki waited for you a little bit longer than usual and started to get pretty impatient and mad. He took his phone out of his pocket to call you when he noticed you waving at him from the distance and shouting his name.

“Riki!”

He didn’t even notice when a smile crept on his face. Was it your excited expression? Was it the way his name sounded in your lips? Or was it just because you were his favorite person? He didn’t know, but what he did know was how your body hit his when you ran excitedly to him. He wrapped his arms around you, all the thoughts about you being late disappearing immediately.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you said breathlessly.

“It’s okay,” he responded quietly, tucking a lone strand of your hair behind your ear. Dreamy gaze and a loving smile never leaving his lit-up face.

➶ doodling on your palm *ೃ༄

Having a soft spot for you and drawing seemed like a perfect match since you never had any objections against him doodling on your skin. The feeling of a pen dancing on your skin and Riki’s focused facial expression made you smile every time he did that. Without noticing your hand would be covered with cute drawings, either portraying small symbols or his favorite characters from animations.

If one thing could tell you Riki was getting bored of a movie or TV series you’ve been watching it was definitely him grabbing a pen and drawing small patterns on your palm.

“Do you want to watch something else?” you asked pausing the movie you were dying for months to watch.

“No, no, it’s okay, I know how much you wanted to watch it,” he responded nonchalantly.

“You sure? We can watch something else,” you suggested but he shook his head in disapproval.

“I’m sure, are you okay with me drawing on your hand though?”

“Was I ever not okay with it?” you asked and raised your eyebrow with a smile.

He just smiled to himself and continued drawing on your arm stunning small symbols and characters, soon covering it all, not leaving any spot.

➶ tying your shoelaces *ೃ༄

If he could erase any of your traits it would definitely be your forgetfulness which unfortunately didn’t limit to only forgetting things. Living in a hurry often made you forget the most trivial things like eating your meals or tying your shoelaces. By now Riki developed a habit of always checking the state of your shoes before heading to your destination. He could count how many times you almost tripped really badly because of them. At first, he found it cute and quite funny but now whenever he sees them undone he just shakes his head and kneels to tie them for you.

„Your shoelaces are undone,” Riki remarked as he pointed to your feet.

You followed his gaze and just shrugged.

“It’s okay,” you said and squeezed his hand slightly.

Soon you were stopped by his firm posture. He looked at you with an expression that talked for itself. He shook his head and sighed kneeling in front of you. The sight of it took you aback wondering what he was up to, only to find out he wanted to tie your shoes for you.

“You keep on tripping over because of them and still manage to say it’s okay?” he asked rhetorically fingers still busy with your shoelaces.

“Thank you,” you simply said, flustered by his gesture and care.

Soon he stood up, now again towering above you. He took your hand gently in his with a smile and guided you to your destination.

➶ having pillow fights *ೃ༄

You could think he would give you some head start but nothing could be further from the truth. He would put the use of his long hours at the gym and have no mercy in beating your ass in pillow fights. Of course, it didn’t mean he would put too much force into them but just enough to leave both of you hysterically laughing at the way you lose miserably. He would always top them out with a sweet kiss either on your forehead or lips.

When you agreed on another sleepover with Riki you knew what you signed up to. He could greet to with the sweetest smile and gentle kiss but that wouldn’t stop him from tackling you down in a fierce feathery battle. And today was no different from other times. You were currently losing against your boyfriend, while both of you laughed loudly.

“I can’t breathe, please stop Riki!” you begged for him to stop. Riki always seemed to know when you were serious and when it was playful. Sensing you needed a break he threw his weapon to the other side of the bed. He cupped your cheeks and left tickling kisses on your eyelids, forehead, and finally lips.

“Rest for a bit. I’m not done beating your weak ass.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @edensgardenn (in bold can’t be tagged)

#kflixnet #enhanet #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen imagine #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #niki fic #niki fluff #niki imagine #niki x reader #niki x y/n #niki x you #nishimura riki #nishimura riki x reader

[prettyoatmeal]

Shouldn't Have Shared (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Following up my previous post LOL. This is also not proof read, I was listing to a documentary and listening to music in the background of writing. I didn't intend for this to be so long, but I kinda got lost in writing this.

GENRE: Smut

Summary: 'CAUTION! Do not share or this man will appear in your room!' is what the post said. Of course, it was just a hoax.. wasn't it? Sharing it to feed into your obsession for this fictional man from a video game, you're woken up to a pleasant surprise.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie, overly possessive Ghost, primal, mentions of claiming and ruining.

Word Count: 1009

NSFW UNDER CUT

Masterlist here!

***************

Rustle... rustle, rustle...

Stirring in your sleep, you could feel something was.. off. You felt the air tensing around you, becoming hyperaware of your breathing and heartbeat as you began to wake up from your slumber. Opening your eyes and rubbing the sleep from them, you turned away from the wall only to see the shadow of a large man staring right down at you. Your life almost flashed before your eyes.

Feeling your heart stop, you let a loud shriek of terror at the unexpected silhouette. Sitting up quickly, you push yourself to the corner of your bed, your body working on autopilot as you pegged one of your stuffed animals at him.

You could see the little stuffy you threw bouncing off from his chest, hearing him chuckling under his breath.

"Gonna take a lot more than a stuffed lamb to take me out."

You'd recognise that voice from anywhere.

Holy shit.

Turning on the lamp of your bedside table, you finally got a look at the mystery man standing at the edge of your bed. Eyes adjusting to the light, your eyes widened at the realisation.

"Easy, love, no need to be frightened. It's just me. You know who I am, don't you?" Taking another step, he bent over and leaned his palms into the plush edge of your bed, allowing you to get a closer look at him.

Hmm, blond eyelashes. Cute. Full gear... hot. You nodded, swallowing. He was so much bigger in person. Over a screen you couldn't properly picture yourself next to him, but now that he was up close, it was jarring.

"Good, of course you do."

Slowly, he crouched down and picked up the soft toy, throwing it back next to you. Hearing his voice in person, you couldn't help but shudder as you stared in awe. He was so close, so close to you. If this was going to end in any of the ways you've fantasised about, it was going to end with-

"Tell me, sweetheart, did my character on a screen do me justice, or am I even more striking in person?" he smirked, his voice lingering with an arrogance which would make you gag if it were any other man.

He was real... and damned cocky too.

You hadn't said any words yet, and he noticed your silence, his head tilting as he was almost kneeling on your bed at this point.

"Answer me, lovie."

"Yes."

"You're good at listening, aren't you?" He continued, his voice low in just the right way to send a shiver down your spine. "Now tell me something else, you've always wanted more than just pixels on a screen. You've played the game, you've fantasised, you've shared."

Fuck.

"Fuckin' cheeky for sharing that knowing I'd come find ya, and now I'm here to give you what your imagination can't. Would you want that, lovie?"

Fuck.

You swallowed, hard. The air charged with a palpable energy. It felt as if the room was closing in on you two, the erotic tension flooding the air around you as you felt yourself becoming warmer. While you felt your fluster, your fantasies in turn were becoming more and more real by the second.

God, you wanted this. You needed this.

"Yes."

___

"Quit squirming, damn it."

Your eyes were rolled back. His hand was over your mouth, muffling your pathetic whines. You couldn't risk waking up the house, could you?

Your body pinned down against your bed, his clothed chest against your back. Slamming into you at an ungodly speed with sloppy noised, it was everything you'd dreamed about.

"I said," he started, pulling your hips up with his free hand with a grasp tight enough to bruise, angling every thrust which made you lose your mind, "quit squirming."

It was hard to not drool over his palm, the unholy echo of skin slapping together made you pray that no one else would wake up to hear it.

"Ghost-" you managed to moan out his callsign, muffled against his palm.

"Fuck, baby. Keep quiet f' me." he almost whimpered, his face getting lost and buried in your neck as he nipped and kissed at the soft skin. "Can't have- mmh - ye' waking the others up, can you?"

You were barely able to shake your head, this goddamn hunk of a man keeping you under his weight as he rearranged your insides.

"Sweet girl, how long have you thought about this? Touchin' yourself to the thought of me, now coming into y' room like this and using you like you've wanted." His voice came out as a growl, right against your hear and giving you goosebumps.

One night stands were never your thing, but you could for sure keep this going with him. With your walls clenching around him, your went blurry with tears as your eyes threatened to flutter closed.

His filthy words wavered, his voice breaking as he became increasingly desperate himself.

"Finally been given a taste and this wet cunt is just sucking me in."

With his cock hitting that spongey spot inside you, you tensed under him as you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly. Only a few more thrusts and with a muffled cry, you were coming undone, gushing around him. The feeling only made him whine more as you clamped down on him so deliciously, his hips slamming against your ass were now on borderline primal.

"I'll give you what you want, y're all mine, fuck."

With a final grunt against your neck, you felt the warmth of his cum filling you to the brim. Though, he was so deep inside you that there was no where for his release to go but seep out of you. His his heavy breaths mixed with growls, he removed his hand from your mouth and helped to flip you over.

Pulling you almost down to the edge of your bed, you were put into a mating press, barely comprehending it in your post-orgasm haze.

"We're not done yet. Sweet girl, I'm going to ruin you."

***************

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH

I'VE JUST GRADUATED

CHEERS

#cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #Ghost headcanons #Ghost cod #Ghost x reader #Ghost mw2 #Ghost x reader smut #Simon Riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #Simon Riley fluff #Simon Riley smut #Ghost Headcanons #Simon Riley Headcanons #Ghost Imagines #Simon Riley Imagines #mw2 imagines #mw2 x you #Ghost x female reader #Simon Riley x Female Reader

[luvring]

PHOTO OF YOU

suna x gn!reader | rin comes home and sees the new photo of him you've gotten

note from nia: if anyone does another character w my idea i am humbly asking u to tag me because i think it's fun and silly

“what the hell is that?”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean why is my face on the back of your phone?” suna asks, laughing in disbelief.

you turn your phone to look at its back with the photo of him sitting in a pink photo holder. he’s mid-laugh, head resting on your lap, and plushie under his chin. your aforementioned boyfriend stands above your spot curled up on the couch, and waits with a tilted head for an explanation. “you don’t like it? it’s a photocard.”

“it—” he snorts before reaching for your phone to inspect it. you hand it over and his lips twitch into a smile. “am i a k-idol now?”

“maybe. you tell me.” you shrug. rin carefully takes off your phone case to look at himself, even moving so the light from outside would give him a better view. you gesture to the photocard with an accomplished grin. “i even got a sleeve and decorated it.”

“mhm, i see that, baby,” he replies breathily. you watch as he rubs the different stickers and tilts the holder, letting the sparkly stickers reflect back at him. if he had passed your desk he would have seen the sticker sheets you bought specifically for this, alongside the different layouts you had planned out. “where’d you even get this printed?” he asks.

“i have my ways.”

rin shakes his head, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before looking at you. “no, i need to know so i can print one of you.”

“what?” he only continues to look at you, a smile growing on his face.

you squint at him in return. "rintarou." he bends down to place your phone and photo on the coffee table, then moves to join you on the couch. if there was something you knew about suna rintarou, it was that he’d always, always go through with a bit. if you didn’t stop him now, he’d start ordering photocards of you and pretend to unbox them, saying something about always managing to pull the rarest ones.

you groan at the new weight on top of you as he shifts to lie down properly. “rin, oh my god, you’re going to smush to me. and also no way are you getting one.”

he hums and wraps his arms around your waist, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his laugh against your skin. “why not? i want a photocard of you.”

“no, you don’t deserve my photocard.”

“but we could match, babe. don't you think we’d be cute? i could decorate my sleeve, too.” rin looks up at you with an exaggerated pout. you pinch his cheek and snicker at his unamused frown. “no, you’d pick an awful photo and i’d have to kill you out of principle.”

“uh-huh, just don’t get blood on my picture then,”—he turns his head to bite onto your finger and grins as you pull it away—“it’ll be the one and only copy, worth your rent in just a year.”

“so you admit you’d pick a terrible photo?”

“no, i’d pick a good one,” he says plainly. the look you give him is so obviously mistrusting that rin laughs loudly. he shifts up to plant a kiss to your jaw and counters softly, “i would, it’d be the one i have as my lockscreen. promise.”

his lockscreen had been the same photo of you for months; it was a selfie you had taken on his phone, close up and face smushed against his pillow. the first time you asked about it, rin had told you he’d look at it when he was away and didn’t want to wake you, and imagined you were there beside him.

he looks at you expectantly, waiting for approval. your own expression softens and after a second, you sigh. “god. yeah, okay. i can’t believe we’re going to have photocards of each other.”

“seriously? you did it first.”

“as a joke, and you’re going with it.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re cute and i love you.” you stutter and he smirks, deciding to give you the small mercy of not commenting on it. “i’m gonna print a bunch and start a collection, y’know.”

the idea makes you groan. “can you just make your own and sell them so we can be rich?”

you feel his laugh before getting his agreement. “i can do both of those things. i'll even get the team on board and spoil you with our incredible profit.”

“oh, wow. will i get credit?”

“yeah. something, something copyright law or whatever.” you're 100% sure that was bullshit, but hum despite it. “m’kay. that’s the plan, then.”

and you think that’s the end of it, and quietly ask rin to hand you your phone again. even if it was as a joke, you spent more time on decorating the sleeve than expected and wanted it back in your case. he manages to grab and pass it to you but the sight of himself gets rin's mind on his own photocard again. he looks at you sheepishly. “...can i seriously take your stuff to decorate the card sleeve, though?”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt

#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou #x reader #haikyuu fluff

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You | Part VIII

Hello again, part viii is finally out. One last chapter left of this series. I hope it’s been enjoyable so far. This one is a bit short, but don’t worry. The next part will be longer. Tomorrow will officially be the last update. I hope you all return for the next series I write. You know the drill, heed the tags below.

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Poly!Ghostface x reader, NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII  Part IX

Word Count: 954

You stumbled on your feet a little as you walked downstairs, in a daze as Stu set you onto the counter. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before heading outside to help Billy with Colton, you grimaced as you saw him and looked away. “Awe come on sweetheart, I saw the photos you had of Casey and Steve in your room,” Billy said with a chuckle, “It’s different in real life, huh? After they die though, it’s kinda the same as seeing it online or in photos. They don’t look real anymore,” he said as you shook your head, “my side hurts,” you said as you looked to them.

Stu was quick to look over your wounds, glaring at Billy and punching his shoulder. “You hit deep, fuckrag,” he said as you whimpered. “Come on sweetie, you’re strong, you can last a little longer, right?” Stu said as he cupped your cheek, your eyes began to well with tears again as you nodded. “Yeah, I can,” you said with a sniffle. Billy was by your side now, kissing you and apologizing over and over as he patched you up. “Come on, little bunny, we gotta get ready now, Tate’s gonna be here soon,” he said as he kissed your cheek and helped you off the counter.

You were sat on the floor of Stu’s kitchen, feeling a jab at your shoulder and blinking in surprise when you saw Dewey hovering above you. “Hey kid,” he said, tears in his eyes as he looked at you. “Dewey,” you said softly, sniffling and letting out a little yelp as he picked you up. “You’re pretty good with a sewing kit by the looks of it,” he said as he looked to the first aid kit next to you. “Oh, yeah, my mom taught me…” you mumbled out, squinting when you saw the daylight. You didn’t remember what time last night you had fallen asleep. You remember Tatum coming back to the house, after the boys dealt with her you remember being in the back of Stu’s car. Stu stayed with you until Billy gave him his queue, after that, things got a little blurry. You remember them hyping each other up about something and their groans, you remember the blood on the kitchen floor of…Stu’s house. After that you remember one of the boys trying to stitch up the wound they gave you, to make it more believable they said. You couldn’t remember which one of them it was, at that point you had began to get a little dizzy.

“Stu…Billy… Where? Are they okay?” You asked as Dewey looked to you. “We’re still taking a look around the house. We’ll let you know if we find them, okay?” He said as he brought you to the ambulance, setting you down for the EMS to check on you. As the minutes passed you saw gurneys with black bags being hauled out, Dewey walking to his patrol car and crying, but eventually you saw Stu on a gurney. Your heart fluttered knowing he was okay, you looked to the paramedic and asked if you could go check on him, thanking them and slowly walking over, being mindful of your injuries. “Stu,” you called out, the older boy looking at you and smiling. “Hey,” he said as he reached for your hand. A moment later you saw Billy, feeling relieved knowing both of them were okay.

You rubbed at your eyes as a few tears fell, feeling everything from the last few hours hitting you like a ton of bricks. You could hear voices in the background, looking up when you heard your parents calling your name. You groaned as they ran to hug you, Stu’s hand slipping from your grip. “I’m okay, really, it’s just a scratch,” you tried to play off, receiving even stronger hugs and more kisses from them.

You noticed a few officers making their way towards you and Stu, both gladly giving them the same story of what happened that night.

All about how ghostface tried to attack you on the porch, how the three of you did your best to get out before learning it was mr prescott behind the mask. How he was going berserk because of the anniversary of Maureen. After he thought he wounded the three of you he left in Stu’s car, meanwhile the three of you were left wounded and exhausted.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the shuttering of cameras and announcements in stuck up news reporter voices not too far. The paramedics treated you, but with the prices of ambulances your parents opted to drive you to the hospital themselves. You looked to your side as you walked to your parents car, seeing Gale Weathers and her henchman with the camera. You frowned, shooting your middle finger at them before climbing into the car. You looked out the window, smiling as you saw the boys parents taking them back into their cars and away from the crime scene.

You were happy to know they were okay, to know they were getting their big dream of being directors of their own movie, to know you all could finally be together. Although you hated the way the girls were left, you couldn’t deny the little twinge of jealousy from last night. They had Billy and Stu all to themselves for so long, when the boys revealed themselves to you, you felt jealous to know Tatum and Sidney had been with them. Despite the small amount of sadness you had now that they were dead, you felt a bit of happiness knowing they were gone and you could have the boys to yourself now instead.

#poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface x female reader #poly!ghostface smut #ghostface #ghostface x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy x stu x reader #billy loomis brainrot #billy loomis smut #stu macher #stu macher x reader #stu macher smut #stu macher brainrot #obsessed!reader #scream au #scream x reader #scream #scream1996 #scream 1996 #fluff #smut #angst

[katwatcheskny]

Can I have a preference with tanjiro and two surprise characters of your choice? They realize reader has a crush on them and how they react afterwards (fem reader and mutual pinning) thank you 💕

you have a crush on them + confession

type: preference

pronouns: you/your/yourself (fem!reader)

characters: tanjiro, inosuke, genya

a/n: i really enjoy inosuke. when i first started watching the series, i was enjoying it and everything, but inosuke's introduction was where i felt like i went from casually enjoying the series to knowing i was gonna become obsessed with it. and after i finished reading the manga, i love genya a lot. he's so precious and i thought it would be fun to write a character like him into a scenario like this. enjoy~

TANJIRO KAMADO

Having a crush on Tanjiro is very easy because he’s a very kind and likable person, who would easily open up to you as a dear friend.

Tanjiro is definitely oblivious to your feelings towards him at first. Because he's oblivious to his own feelings. He likes you, a lot. But, he likes a lot of people, almost everyone in fact. It takes him a while to figure out that he likes you in a romantic way before he understands how you feel.

“I like you, Tanjiro,” you confess.

He smiles, widely. It’s nice to know his friend who he cares so deeply about also holds him in high regard. “I like you too, (Y/N).”

And in your mind he just returned your feelings, and so you embrace him. Tanjiro hugs you back, thinking, aw this is nice.

Then you pulled back to give him a peck on the lips.

Tanjiro’s eyes widened and his entire body went stiff. Friends don’t kiss each other on the mouth, he thinks. The only people he had ever seen kiss on the mouth before were his mother and father.

Finally, he got a clue. You didn’t like him as a friend, you like liked him, the way his mother and father loved one another. That was the unique feeling he had felt towards you and that you felt towards him. 

Then he kisses you back, leaving you none the wiser.

Two years into your relationship is when you learnt that Tanjiro had basically started dating you by accident.

INOSUKE HASHIBIRA

Do not expect this wild man to figure out you are crushing on him.

He can sense that you behave differently around him than others like your heart rate is elevated, and you appear more flushed. But he would assume you are intimidated by the King of the Mountains.

If you’re crushing on Inosuke, the best way to get his attention and, ideally, earn his affection is to prove to him that you are a strong person. Inosuke is attracted to strong people, whether that’s being physically strong or even just having a strong personality.

Also, feeding him. Kinda like a stray dog.

When you finally get the courage to confess to him and say, “I like you”. He just kinda stares at you, waiting for you to give him your news.

Like, he already knew you liked him. Of course, you did. He’s great.

When he tells Zenitsu and Tanjiro about it, the former freaks out at how stupid Inosuke is. Tanjiro explains that you like him in a romantic way, and suddenly the little wheels in Inosuke’s head finally turn.

Everything Inosuke probably knows about courting a mate comes from observing animals in the mountains. So, he probably brings you some berries and nuts he foraged. And, like, a dead squirrel. 

He picked a fight with Tanjiro and Zenitsu right in front of you to show you that he could give you the strongest children.

Eventually, you realize that this is Inosuke’s way of telling you that he returns your feelings. This is great because, at first, you were heartbroken that he rejected your confession. Then you were profoundly confused.

For the rest of the day, Inosuke walks around with you with his chest puffed out, loudly marking his territory so everyone knows you're his.

GENYA SHINAZUGAWA

Your crush began when you realized that beneath his tough and aggressive appearing exterior, he’s actually quite soft and kind.

Unfortunately, trying to get closer to Genya is very difficult.

Anytime you try to talk to Genya, his brain stops functioning. All he can think is “(Y/N) is talking to me, she looks so cute and smells so nice. Wait, what is she saying? Oh no! I wasn’t listening! Wait, she’s looking at me! She’s waiting for a response! She has such pretty eyes-”

From your perspective, he’s just standing there with flushed cheeks barely getting mumbles out as he tries to hide away.

Genya’s mutual crush on you is evident to everyone on planet earth, actually. He lacks the ability to be subtle about it. 

And unless you’re as dense as a doorknob, you realize it too.

Or you don’t and Gyomei tells you, so that you can unburden Genya by either returning his feelings or rejecting them (Gyomei is a lowkey shipper, he always knows who's crushing on who and he’s never wrong).

You decide to confess because you realize that if you don’t, Genya might never be able to do so. Bby boy can fight demons daily but can barely say a complete sentence in your presence. You need to take the first step.

When you ask to speak with him, he freezes again and starts mumbling, and you decide to just push forward with your confession.

“I like you, Genya.”

Excuse me? What did you say? It’s already so hard for Genya to properly focus when you are standing so close to him, but he swore that you said that you “liked” him? Which doesn’t seem possible.

“Y-you do?” He asked, his voice was so quiet and unsure.

You nod, excitedly. The corners of Genya’s mouth quirk up into a shy smile, he can’t believe a cute, incredible, and kind girl likes him. He turns deep red and just kinda nods, “yeah.”

If you hug him, he may die of happiness.

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x y/n #tanjiro x you #tanjiro imagines #tanjiro headcanons #inosuke x reader #inosuke x you #inosuke headcanons #insouke imagines #inosuke x y/n #genya x reader #genya x you #genya x y/n #genya imagines #genya headcanons #kny headcanons #kny x you #kny x reader #kny imagines #kny x y/n

[xhollandlilsx]

Interview Shenanigans - (Bella Ramsey x Reader)

Summary: Set after TLOU2 has been made and released, Reader plays a character in Dina’s spot. (Sorry Dina).

Warnings: N/A

“Hi I’m Y/N” I smiled at the camera, as I held a bunch of question cards in my hands.

“And I’m Bella, and we are here with moviefone” The brunette next to me beamed holding a set of cards themself.

“And we are gonna be answering some questions, that you guys sent in on instagram and twitter, and then we’re gonna go unscripted and ask our own questions” I nodded looking at them and tilting my head to ask if they were ready, to which they mocked what I was doing and tilted their head too, “I guess we’re ready..”

********

“From Nina W, on Twitter, great question, ‘Did you learn any archery for the role of Ellie?’” I read it aloud, looking at Bella at the end, tapping my non existent nails on the cards in my hand that we had previously written down our unscripted questions.

“I tried, I mean you tried to teach me” Bella laughed slightly at the afternoon I tried to teach them what my dad taught me, and how badly it went, “But no, it’s just.. no.”

“Yeah, I remember you snapped it against your wrist” I laughed holding the cards up to hide it.

“Moving on” They groaned rolling their eyes, “From, Daniel H, on Instagram, ‘Did you manage to steal anything off set Y/N?”

“…” I just let out a laugh before composing myself, “Everything on that set is so expensive, so I think if I were to steal anything, I would get shot. That said… I might’ve taken a certain bracelet…if you know you know.”

“You heard it here folks, Y/N is a thief” They told the camera bringing their lips into a thin line, before looking at me and shaking their head.

“Don’t even pull that one Bella, Ellie’s converse are literally in my wardrobe from when you stole them” I pointed at them, my rings clinking together.

“Wow! Way to out me.” Bella laughed and adjusted their rolled up sleeves.

“We go down together darling.”

***

“Ooo unscripted, let’s be having it, ask me anything Bella.” I challenged turning my body to face them.

“Hmm okay, I actually wanna know this one, when did you realise you weren’t heterosexual?” They asked, before moving that card to the back of the pile.

“Damn, loaded question, I honestly can’t even remember, there’s a lot of women to thank for that,” I smiled, “But I think I was about 13 and I was watching ‘Bend it like Beckham’ and I saw Kiera Knightley or Jade West… has a uh, special place in my heart”

“I’ve actually never seen that film, but I have seen her in Pirates Of The Caribbean and I don’t blame you” They laughed slightly and shrugged.

“We’ll watch it.” I told them and nodded, “Okay, okay, from Mason M on Instagram, ‘What was your favourite non action scene to shoot?’”

“Wow, I like that one, hm, maybe the weed room scene” They mumbled scratching the back of their neck and side eyeing me, to which I let out a laugh, “No no, I think….I think the farm scenes were quite fun, they were cute, or the scene where Ellie finds out Maisie is pregnant”

“Aw I liked that one too” I smiled, and bounced my knee, something I usually did in interviews due to how uncomfortable cameras made me, ironic isn’t it?

“Yeah, the ‘Don’t worry it’s not yours’ always gets me” We both laughed and mumbled to eachother, stuff the camera definitely isn’t picking up on.

“I did like the farm scenes though, especially the one where they’re dancing in the kitchen” I smiled and looked at them with a knowing look, knowing the two of us do that quite alot, randomly dancing around the kitchen to Alexa, while the other is doing something.

“Yeah, that one’s cute” Bella nodded and saw another unscripted pop up on the screen to the side of the camera.

“Unscripted.” I smiled and picked up my cards flopping through them and sighing at how none of them are exciting anymore, so I put them down and brought a hand to my bottom lip messing with it like I usually did while in thought, “See I already know everything about you, so I’m really only asking this for people watching.”

“True true”

“Okay, if the apocalypse were to break out tomorrow, who would you want with you and why?” I asked with a shrug, knowing the question wasn’t good but giving up.

“You. Probably” They squinted closing one eye as they looked at me, messing with one of their earrings.

“Really? Why?”

“Well I mean, you’re good at archery, and you’re pretty much a real life version of my character so I think my odds are better with you, plus, as corny as it sounds I don’t think I’d last without seeing you” They smiled with a shrug laying the cards face down in their lap now.

“Aw that was so cringy but I loved it. And love, you are giving me way too much credit” I laughed.

“Okay who would you not want to be with if it happened?” They asked crossing a leg over their other one resting their ankle on their knee.

“Ki, probably” I scrunched my nose up, knowing he would probably agree but still pretend to be hurt.

“Yeah, he’s not apocalypse material”

“He’s really not. If you don’t know Ki plays Jesse in the show, who is a badass yeah, but Ki is the total opposite. No hard feelings though, love you bro” I laughed as Bella did too both of us covering our smiles with the cards, “Dude cried watching Mamma Mia.”

***

“Last question for both of us here. ‘When did you realise you were interested in eachother and who made the first move?’” They read it out to which I just bought my fingers to the bridge of my nose, Bella and I were quite open about our relationship, but I was an expert at showing the fans everything but nothing, never truly showing them anything other than a random photo here and there.

“When did you realise you liked me?” I asked, a question I already knew the answer to, a question I asked months ago while we were half awake in bed.

“The moment I met you” They smiled slightly eyes trained on me now, from my hair in a messy bun with curled pieces hanging down and framing my face, and falling out of the bun, to my dark green waistcoat, down to my rings and my matching trousers.

“Go on”

“We first met a day before we had to film the snowball fight scene, and we had to do that bonding thing, and you came over and introduced yourself to me with so much confidence and I remember just thinking ‘this girls so cool’ and I was just infatuated” They cringed.

“I acted confident but I was so nervous” I told the camera.

“Why were you nervous?” They asked me looking at me like I had two heads.

“Because I thought you were cute” I replied tilting my head and looking at them, their brown eyes I could get lost in every time.

“I swear I hate you sometimes” They groaned as they rubbed their cheeks to hide the smile that just wouldn’t go away from the camera.

“No you don’t” I winked and we both looked back at the camera.

***

“Thanks to Moviefone for having us. I now want a McDonalds so I will meet you in the car” I told them before standing up and walking off to grab my bag from the chair behind the cameras and directors of the interview.

“I…” Bella watched me walk away leaving them on their own in front of the camera, to which they let out a laugh, “She serious?”

Once they said their goodbyes, they walked over to me shaking their head and nudging me.

A/N: Using they/them pronouns for a fan fiction is still new to me, so please bare with me, and if there’s any gendered pronouns in there please ignore them. Anyway I had this idea, that sounded better in my head but here you go none the less.

#bellaramseyimagine #bella ramsey #ellie tlou #the last of us #interviews #wlw imagine #bella ramsey x reader #lgbtq

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER SEVEN — WELCOME to the REAL WORLD, JACKASS

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summary: christmastime in hawkins brings a bunch of cherry bombs in the boy's bathroom, a trip down memory lane via seven minutes in heaven avenue, and the least likely trio this town has ever seen. content warnings: MINORS DNI i'm going to fuck you up and santa isn't real so we've got, smut including references to and descriptions of male and female masturbation, smoking, swearing, a pregnancy scare, era-typical misogyny and ANGST in the form of a flashback!!! word count: 12.5k. merry christmas babies

Dear reader, it takes you less than five weeks to become incapable of imagining your life without Eddie Munson.

Which, given his propensity for being an absolute neanderthal, is concerning.

Eddie Munson talks with his mouth full and plays his music too loud. He never closes a cabinet all the way. He walks through anywhere, literally anywhere, be it a store or the library or Ronnie’s trailer–leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He talks during movies and puts his feet up on the seats at the Hawk. He makes fun of the books you read, but always grabs them away from you to stare at the blurb on the back. He never finishes a cigarette all the way before lighting another one, which is just wasteful. He pretends to be good at holding his liquor, but he’s not. 

He stands too close to you in places where he’s got plenty of room to move. He makes you laugh, even when you don’t want to. He holds the door for you in school, at the bookstore, getting out of the van, even though you’re more than capable of doing that yourself. He takes advantage of you when you’re in a good mood, like making you scratch his head as if he were a cat.

Sometimes he calls you ‘baby’, as if you don’t have a nickname already. As if you two are…

You lean toward the only mirror in the girls’ room with decent light, reapplying the red lip stain you’d taken to wearing– it was coming on Christmas, for god’s sake, and despite everything, you’re feeling festive. Quick. Lighter on your feet than you have been in a long time. 

“Hey girl, could I borrow that?” an out-of-tune simper rings right next to your ear and you almost jump out of your skin, lipstick clattering into the sink.

“Jesus!” you say, and Eddie Munson cackles. You knock him back with a one-handed shove, face setting into that funny little grimace you’ve taken to wearing when he acts up– and he’s always acting up. You’re gonna get wrinkles if he doesn’t cut it out. “What the hell are you doing in here? Hair in your eyes make you miss the sign that says girl’s room?”

You know that’s not true, because you were the one that just about tied him to a chair in Ronnie Ecker’s trailer so you could trim his bangs last week. 

This is a fuckin’ violation of my human rights, Lacy!

Every time I’m seen with you, people think I’m out walking a goddamn Briard. Hold still!

“So, hot off the press, newspaper girl,” Eddie says, leaning against the yellow porcelain, “One, I am literate, much to everyone’s shock and awe. And two, someone threw a bunch of cherry bombs down the john in the boy’s bathroom and the place is fucking Hiroshima, but wet and kinda shitty smelling. So we all got told to use this…” He gestures around at the clean-ish tile. “...salon of iniquity.” 

“Was it you?” you ask, plucking a cigarette from the soft pack he’s offering you. 

“Huh?” He scrunches his brows, leaning with a lighter ready. He’s taken to doing that; cigarette at the ready, lighter at the ready, low-grade explosives at the ready, probably.

“The cherry bombs, was it you?” you say through a reel of blue smoke.

“For once, no,” Eddie sighs, head slumping forward like a Peanuts character, “Some other gorgeous, anarchistic genius got the jump on me.” 

“Oh, god,” a frown sets in; you pick up your dropped lipstick and in its wake, ash into the sink, “There’s no other bathrooms on campus you animals could use?”

“Nuh-uh. Unisexuality, baby, it’s the way of the future,” Eddie tells you, fanning out his hands like P.T. Barnum. 

A beat. You think. This bathroom, the unofficially allocated senior bathroom, the one you and the rest of the Hawkins in-crowd had been using since sophomore year, got crowded at the best of times. The fumes of Aquanet were a definite health risk, but that’s an occupational hazard when it comes to being a girl. You add boys into the mix, nay, couples into the mix–

Damn.

“We’re about to witness the conception of so many toilet babies.”

Realization dawns on Eddie, his brown eyes flaring. “Oh shiiiit. I never thought of that.” 

“The band geeks alone, Eddie,” you whisper, head tilting toward him all scandalized-like, “We’re gonna show up at our fifteen year reunion and every single one of these suckers is gonna have their own little freshman clones.”

“Spare a thought for Heather Holloway.” Eddie’s face, a mask of mock concern, makes you roll your eyes.

“Why?” you scoff, not a fan, “She doesn’t inspire many.” 

“Objection. Her implants do.”

You turn to face him fully. “J’excuse?” 

“Swear to god,” and his palms are up, “Just saw her in Chemistry.”

“Good? Bad?”

“Conical. Jayne Mansfield.” Aaand his hands are gesturing, animatedly. Crassly. Pervily. “Take your goddamn eye out.”

“Wow. Christmas came early.”

“Christmas ain’t the only thing that’s gonna be coming early…”

“Ew.”

Eddie smirks and flicks his cigarette into the sink, hitting the faucet to wash it away– there were at least three good drags left in that, you think. 

“Heather H, first one to get knocked up in the Great Bathroom Insemination Project of 1984. Mark my words.”

“And you think you’re in with a shot?” Your tone is dripping in sneer. 

Eddie regards you for a moment, so you know something deeply annoying is about to happen. His voice goes all serious, barely above a whisper, as he closes space between you like he’s trying to beat a draft. 

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Lacy baby.” His hands brace either side of the sink you’re standing at, trapping you against him. See? No respect for boundaries. But– Hm. Not… that annoying. “Oversexed teenagers sharing the same bathroom– at Christmas, with all that mistletoe around and shit.” His eyes, searching you with a glint that’s s’posed to be provocative. You, elbow propped up by your folded arm, puff a plume of smoke into his face. He doesn’t even blink. Smirk pursing his lips up. The two of you have established a rhythm. “Anything could happen.”

“Ew, what the hell are you doing in here? This is the girl’s room.” Enter some upstart underclassman, and Eddie’s peeling away from you.

“You didn’t see the biblical flood on the second floor, Pippi Longstocking?” His voice is big and booming and bouncing off the tile, making the underclassman cringe. “Forcible takeover. This is my house now.”

“God, shut up, freak.” She shuffles by the two of you to a vacant stall with a look you recognize– she’s so telling her friends about those two trailer park abnormos just about copulating in the bathroom later.

“Great choice!” Eddie exclaims, door of the stall slamming, “I warmed the seat for ya!” 

—

“Watch where you’re going, you almost milled down that stroller!”

“I wouldn’t need to go so fast if you two, freakin’ Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Priss Ass, didn’t insist on getting to this place before it closed!” 

“We wouldn’t need to rush if you hadn’t spent all freakin’ afternoon at goddamn Lipton landing getting all– all–”

“All?”

“--toked up and shit!”

“Market research, Ecker! And, I’m gonna remember you said that! Later! When you want to get all toked up and shit– woah!”

Listening to Ronnie Ecker and Eddie Munson bicker in the front seat while you balance on a drum stool in the back of his van, clutching onto Ronnie’s passenger seat for dear life– no better way to get into the spirit of the season. You’d be joining in the milieu if you weren’t currently suffering from major motion sickness. 

Eddie takes a harsh pull into a parking spot outside of Family Video and–“Go, go, go!”--you three load out like soldiers, locked on the target. He takes the lead, swinging the door open for the two of you ladies, but a voice calls out from the counter before Ronnie can even get a toe over the threshold.

“Oh, no– no way, no way!” Steve Harrington’s yelling from the helm of the ship, waving his hands. “We are– fifteen goddamn minutes away from close, I can’t do this tonight!” 

“Highly unwise of you to turn away paying customers, Harrington!” Eddie gasps, Ronnie ducking under his arm. 

“You guys come in here and spend honest-to-god hours talking shit in the aisles and– and you never even rent anything!” 

“Well, your luck’s about to change!” Ronnie says, and Steve regards her with a mask of total confusion because, well, it’s likely he’s never heard her speak directly to anyone other than Eddie before. 

That’s when you roll in the door under Eddie’s arm-arch, color rising in your cheeks that’s not from the cold. 

“I am deeply reconsidering my association with you guys.” 

“Tough shit.” “Find another trailer park.” “You love it. You love us. You’re obsessed.” 

You pinch both of your hands towards them, the universal action to encourage zipping it, and cast a glance towards Steve. His shoulders relax. His vest is green and garish and a terrible color on him and… he’s wearing elf ears. And he’s Steve Harrington. And your stomach clenches, though it’s more muscle memory than anything else. 

“Hey, Steve,” you smile, soft and small and not really all that there. 

“Lacy. Hi.” He does smile at you, after a beat. “You responsible for these assholes?”

You hadn’t seen him since the night of his party, that grand inferno that had landed you here, standing between Eddie and Ronnie and feeling not entirely awful about it. Well, you hadn’t exactly seen him then either, except for a flash when Eddie was dragging you out of his house. 

So, y’know, the blush is entirely justified.

“She’s bankrolling us,” Eddie says, closing the door to keep the heat in and speaking just to break the tension. True, too– you’d scored a part time gig at The Bookstore after a confrontation with the eagle-eyed Ivana regarding certain missing copies of Little Women, The Woman Destroyed and Fear and Trembling. You assumed you were working off the thievery, which you never directly admitted to and she never directly accused you of– but then, she paid you. 

Ivana, it turns out, is incredibly pro-workers rights and even more incredibly anti-Hawkins gossip mill. Which works out a treat for you. The bookstore’s become more of a haven than it had been before. 

“Can you scatter already?” you direct two thirds of your threesome towards the stacks. “Let’s make this breezy, I feel a wave of mortification rising.” 

“No. I was promised in-store bickering,” Eddie says, rooting himself to the spot. You catch a weird flash of– something in his eyes. Ronnie, with her unlikely band geek strength, groans and yanks him toward the horror section. “It’s my favorite part! It’s like the pre-show!”

You take to the counter, gingerly, shyly. Why are you shy? Why, all of a sudden, after showing your ass in such a spectacular bruise-garnering fashion, are you shy to speak to Steve Harrington? Is it because Nancy’s dropped a tidbit here and there that he’s not exactly great boyfriend material? Is it because you sometimes secretly think, good, I hope you two are having a terrible time, even if you and Wheeler are making baby steps towards a friendship?

Is it because you never forget the first person that called you Lacy?

Fuck knows. Some of that. 

“So you’re… what, hanging out now?” Steve asks, gesturing to the twin dipshits. There’s a bite in his voice from a former incarnation of Steve Harrington, one with (somehow) bigger hair and an unchecked ego. It doesn’t all shed at once, you figure. He’s sloughing it off and there’s still some left over, judging by the way he’s staring at Ronnie and Eddie. 

You look over your shoulder to them. It would be so easy to deride it, right– only due to my unfortunate proximity to them, yes or girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do for a ride these days or it’s community service, I swear. 

But you don’t. You turn back to him with a pinchy little smile. “I’m this close to getting them to let me play tambourine in their band. Can you even deal?” 

Steve, after a beat and a brow furrow, sort of half nods. “Think I kind of… get that.” 

You’re about to answer when another body comes barrelling in through the back. 

“Just wanted to let you know, dingus, that I just got off the phone with Keith–you remember Keith, right, our manager who is currently in a war of words with our boss trying to keep this place open–and your little stock-take fuckup has cost us, like, weeks of manhours in work and–” Robin Buckley, complete with a light-up Santa hat, stops dead. Counts every person in the room. Shakes her head like she’s in a dream. “What is…”

“H–hi Robin!” Ronnie calls, her voice all squeaky– due to the scuffling headlock that Eddie has somehow managed to put her in without you and Steve even noticing. “Don’t worry, we– we’ll be out of your hair in a second!” 

And Robin– wait, is Robin kind of… blushing? She backs down immediately, putting her Family Video branded binder flat on the counter. “Yeah, no… that’s totally okay, take your time!” 

You look at Steve. Steve looks at you. You quirk an eyebrow like– is that, is she… And Steve shrugs like, don’t ask me, sister. Pleading the fifth. Saving Robin’s dignity. 

But you’re still you and you’ve been bugging Ronnie about her situation for weeks so you hold up a finger.

“What are you two idiots arguing about?”

“Black Christmas–” “Silent Night, Bloody– ow, Ronnie, don’t pull hair, you girl!”

A swivel back to Robin, who is totally pink-cheeked. “We need a professional to settle this.” 

Her mind seems to stutter like a badly wound tape. Oh, she’s suckered. “Uh– uh, Black Christmas, for sure. Not exactly the coziest thing to watch, but–”

“We’re not cozy people!” Eddie yells, Ronnie coming at him with arms like weed whackers.

“--but Margot Kidder, right?” you poke, goddamn Jimmy Page and John Bonham for the Midwest set slamming into the counter on either side of you.

“Olivia Hussey,” Ronnie says breathlessly. Eddie seems to have winded her somehow. “That’s– she’s cool–I heard she was in this–”

“Exactly!” Robin lights up, excited, “She– she played Juliet in Romeo and Juliet–”

“Wait, don’t you see her boobs in that movie?” Eddie jerks in. 

“Yes,” Robin and Steve chime in unison. And glance at each other. Telling. 

Ol’ Munson there snaps his fingers. “Sold.”

“But not in Black Christmas,” you say, almost gently, so as not to… let him down?

Eddie rolls his eyes and tilts his head toward your shoulder. “I’m a man with an imagination, ain’t I?” he rasps. You pretend-shudder.

“Okay, let’s do Black Christmas and– you got a copy of The Thin Man?”

Blink-blink goes Robin, like a cartoon. It’s nearly audible. “... like, the William Powell, Myrna Loy Thin Man?” 

Your turn to roll your eyes. God, you guys love to roll your eyes, huh? “Is there any other?”

“Like the black and white movie. You’re sure? I just didn’t think it’d be your–” 

But Eddie cuts right through that assumption that’s making an ass out of you and Robin, because he knows. He knows because you’ve made him sit through Double Indemnity at the Hawk, scolding him for putting his feet up (god forbid, right!) and you’ve even threatened to drag him to some Buster Keaton retrospective that’s playing there after the holidays. He keeps thinking, man, if Wayne Munson ever comes across this girl, he’s a goner, and then he remembers why that won’t be happening any time soon. 

“She’s a freak.”

You regard him with a tight smile. Kind of a thanks, kind of a fuck you. Kind of your thing. 

“I’ll watch it when these bozos pass out.” 

—

Something’s gotten into Eddie. 

You three are absolutely basking in the glory of your one night of freedom– see, Granny Ecker’s away on a weekend hotel stay in Indianapolis with one of her special friends from the Hawkins Senior Center. Which, on the one hand, gross, Eddie never ever wants to think about Granny Ecker getting lucky no matter how happy for her he is. But on the other, in the words of her beloved granddaughter–

“God bless the Indiana Sweepstakes!”

Eddie has stolen Granny’s usual spot, the kick-out recliner that seems to sag more with every movement. You and Ronnie are bunched onto the little two-seater together, with Ronnie shyly suggesting that you paint her nails (black, how totally hardcore)– now, Eddie knows this move. This is so she can distract herself from the bonafide creepiness of Black Christmas because while she tries to put on a brave face, Ronnie’s eyes for horror movies are way bigger than her stomach. She’s all nerves. It’s why she’s such a good drummer. 

As you’d predicted, by the time the movie ends and you all clear the six pack that Eddie had procured, Ronnie’s nodding off– but Eddie is determined to stay wide awake. You make a move off the couch and she grumbles, having narrowly avoided propping her head on your shoulder. You move to arrange her in such a way that she’s sleeping Nosferatu style, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because I spent an awful lot of time on that polish and I won’t see it ruined, not on your account,” you chide, real quiet. Ronnie’s not listening, she’s pretend honk-shooing. Eddie, on the other hand, is. 

He likes you like this. You’re sweet to Ronnie, in your prickly little way– making her flustered with your misdirected flirting, bonding with her about things so far out of the realm of his male understanding. Being a girl with her. It’s occurred to him that Ronnie, in her testosterone-soaked world of current comrades, might actually need that. Like, she’s friendly enough with Jeannie and that Vickie girl from band, but they’re not people she’d go out of her way to make a case for so’s that Granny Ecker will let them stay for dinner. 

Which she’s done for you. Once or twice now. Which you’ve nervously accepted and even ruined your manicure for, by insisting on washing up the dishes. Eddie dried, because of course he did, because the Ecker trailer is the only place close to home that the two of you can hang out.

You’re, like– friends. 

Which is horrible.

Eddie tosses you a cold can of soda from the fridge. You catch it, hands basketing above your head.

“Power forward.”

“Cheerleader.”

You lean over to the TV to swap the tapes out, insistent on watching your dumb little black and white movie. As you do it, your skirt lifts a little bit and– 

Eddie’s gotta break eye contact. Stare at the floor for a second. Cock jumping like the fucking mole from whack-a-mole.

He almost hits it.

You bitch, are you wearing thigh highs?

“You need to pull trig, Munson?” he hears you from the kitchenette, clicking the video player’s play button. “You only had two beers.”

God, maybe. Was the room spinning? “Smoked a lotta weed today.” 

“Right. Lipton landing,” you smirk. Ronnie’s derisive little nickname for Reefer Rick’s place. “Are you gonna get over here and snore through my movie or not?”

I do not snore, or some muttering of a similar fashion comes out but he’s doing exactly what you tell him to do. He can’t help it. Brain function gone all freaky from that flash of flesh squeezed out the top of your– yeah. 

Eddie lands on the floor next to you with a little groan. Your eyes flick between him and the now-empty recliner. 

“What are you doing down here?” 

Oh. Busted. “I’m a gentleman, Lacy. Take the damn seat.” 

Your face screws up in that silly way it does whenever he talks sense to you but you don’t wanna hear it. Brat. “No. I like to sit right up near when it’s something I really want to watch.”

A shrug of your little shoulder as you wrap your arms around your knees like a kid. Face illuminated by the greyscale on the television. Skirt rucking back against the carpet. Fuck.

Eddie lets out an unsteady breath, crawling forward to lie on his tummy. Closer to you. “You’re gonna get square eyes if you keep doin’ that, dorko.”

“Who died and made you my optometrist…” but you say it in this half-hearted, distracted way, eyes on the screen.

“Y’know, if you–” Eddie starts, eyes on the lace top of your–yes indeedy–stockings.

“Shut up,” and you tap him on the shoulder. “I love this part.”

Your hand stays there as some fancily dressed chick totally eats shit in the bar of some hotel or something. Christmas presents flying everywhere as she falls. 

Women and children first, boys.

Say, what is the score anyway?

Oh, so it’s you he was after.

Hello, sugar.

Your hand stays there as you’re totally mouthing every single word, you true-blue nerd. Eddie, completely at a loss of how to react to this other than gaze, gaze, gaze at you, snaps his teeth at your hand. 

You, so completely embroiled in Nick and Nora’s white hot banter, gasp at the near-bite and swipe at his head. Eddie dodges the blow by rolling onto his back, hair fanning out on the Eckers’ rug. He grins up at you, and all of a sudden the rise and fall of his chest in that worn-out Alice Cooper shirt is very distracting. 

Pretty girl. 

Yeah, she’s a very nice type.

You got types?

Only you, darling–

“--lanky brunettes with wicked jaws,” you say, beat-for-beat with William Powell. 

“Talkin’ about me?” Eddie says, lips peeling back, eyebrows quirking.

“Not in your wettest, wildest dreams, Eddie Munson.” 

“Oh, you don’t wanna know what happens in those dreams. It’s filthy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s twisted. It’s disgusting.” 

“I bet.”

His hand is absent-mindedly stroking his chest, shifting the hem of that t-shirt up a little bit. Brushstrokes. You remember that? Eddie Munson has a happy trail like– 

“You’re so nice to me. It’s so fffffucking hot.”

“How wildly out-of-character,” you scoff, and he laughs, and you shift in your spot the teensiest bit. Eyes back on the screen, back to safety. 

From here, where he’s lying, Eddie has a fully illustrated view of the flash of skin up your skirt. Now that you’re not looking at him, he’s looking at it. Swallowing back saliva. Ignoring Nick and Nora. 

It’d be simple as pie to walk his fingertips along the rug and brush up against you there–oops–by accident or design. Feel how soft that skin is. Feel that heat radiating from your–

“It’s alright,” he hums, eyes flicking to the ceiling. Otherwise, all the blood’s gonna drain away from his head and he’s going to fucking die. “I know I’m not your type anyway.”

Your head lolls to your other shoulder, exposing a flash of your neck. It’s sorely missing a tongue running along it, he thinks, breath shuddering a touch. 

“You wouldn’t know my type if it hit you with an eighteen wheeler.”

“Can Steve Harrington drive an eighteen wheeler?”

Lolling your head back in the most exaggerated form of exasperation, you groan. “God. The way you talk about Harrington, I’m willing to put money on the fact that you have a crush on him.”

Eddie shrugs, hand resting on his sternum. You had your hand there once, you recall.

“I got prescribed one on the first day of freshman year, just like everybody else. But it wore off.”

“Sure about that?” Your eyes narrow.

“Sure as I am that I saw you makin’ googly eyes at him at the Family Video tonight.” Eddie crosses his own peepers for effect. Your attention darts back to the screen.

“I was not–”

“You can just say it, Lace.” His face is a twisty little smirk, if you’d care to look. “Regardless of how utterly pedestrian it might be.” That was a dig at you, by the way. That was an almost eerie impression of you. 

“The things I felt in seventh grade don’t really have a lot of gravitational pull on me anymore,” you shrug, not giving. Because, when you think about it, you don’t have to give. It was a baseless kind of thrill, seeing Harrington tonight. One hit wonder. “He’s a cute boy. Reminded me I have a pulse. Nothing wrong with that.”

Eddie’s quiet for a few seconds, flicks his eyes up to watch the TV from upside down. Nick places an ice pack on a drunken Nora’s head. 

Hmm… what hit me? 

The last martini.

He smiles as you smile, and he wonders if you’re thinking of the same thing he’s thinking of. 

“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”

“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”

“Funny you mention seventh grade…” Eddie trails off, tugging at the rug underneath him.

“Funny ha-ha or funny peculiar?” Your voice is distant again. 

“Little bit of both.”

“Why?”

Well, he thought you might be fucking with him, but– “... God, you really don’t remember, do you?”   

“Remember what?” He sees your brow pinch, he’s getting to ya.

“Not a fucking clue.” No give, no glory, eyes on the peeling ceiling. 

“Remember what?” You’ve snapped your neck and are looking down at him now, thirsty for him to fucking spill it already.

“Total–” he blows a raspberry, “--blackout before freshman year, right?”

“Eddie.”

His name makes him sit up. Pavlovian, sure, and he’s trying to deny the fact that he’ll do just about anything you say when you call him Eddie in that slightly-tinged sour way and not Munson like you’re writing him off. He’s trying to deny that. He swears.

“Nancy Wheeler’s thirteenth birthday party.” 

You two are shoulder to shoulder, him facing the couch, you facing the screen, his breath warming the bare skin of your off-the-shoulder top which is an insane thing to be wearing in the dead of fucking winter, but praise Jesus hallelujah you’re wearing it. Your expression is unimpressed. 

“... yeah?”

“We played Seven Minutes in Heaven.” He lays that out a little too plain for your liking. Playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at a thirteen year old’s birthday party is like the non-denominational Hora for pseudo-white bread Christian teenagers, at least in Hawkins. Everybody does that shit. But hold on.

“... you were there?”

“Fucking obviously, dimwit, that’s the setup to the whole story.” He sighs in a puff, and he’s very close to you. Chin almost on your shoulder like that night at the Quarry. “Tommy Hagan ripped into me for like, fifteen full minutes because my spin of the bottle landed on you.”

Confusion is a disease and you’re terminal. “That was… not you.” 

Insistence is a disease and Eddie’s fatal. “Yes. It so was.”

“That was John Hudson-Wasserman.”

“That was not–,” Eddie full on splutters, like slapstick splutters, reeling his head away from you, “you’re gonna get me confused with John Hudson-Wasserman? The guy who was like, pathologically obsessed with the Kennedy assassination? The guy who moved to Des Moines like, two weeks after that party?”

Then you’re spluttering back all of a sudden. Everything you two are doing is contagious. “His parents named him after John F., can you blame him? –actually, I can totally blame him, that was bizarre.”

“Lacy.” Well, the way he says that straightens your spine. “Use that pretty little brain to think for a second, huh? There’s one unmistakeable detail I bet I can get to jog your memory.”

But you’re already there. Activated. Like a sleeper cell. 

“Your hair was all buzzed off. You had that bandage on your head.”

“I did. And you asked me what was under it, and I said–”

A hole. They cut out a part of my brain so I’d be– The Wheeler’s linen closet was tiny and you were breathing in lavender detergent from all angles. 

The boy in front of you, scrawny and angry, had an aura around him like a firework. You knew it was dangerous, but you wanted to look closer. 

–less of a freak? you finished. Such was the accusation du jour for this kid. 

Less of a danger to society, he said, chest puffed. They let me keep it in a jar. Just in case shit gets really real and I need to shove it back in. 

You don’t quite know what to do with that. Like. He is so weird, and his hair is unevenly shaved and he’s got little cuts and scratches and scabs all over him. Like he’s been running through brambles. He looks like a kid someone found in the wild. 

Did you name it? you ask, finger drawing circles on a nearby towel. Your jar brain.

Eddie Junior, he told you, crossing his arms. 

Aren’t you already Junior? Shouldn’t it be Junior Junior? 

His jaw hardened. No. I’m Eddie. 

You nudged forward on your toes to get a better look at the bandage– he was taller than you. It lumped out of his head, unmissable. Nothing to be done about it. 

He seemed to cringe away from you. 

Don’t try anything, skank. 

You bounce back onto your heels. 

I wasn’t, asshole. We don’t have to do anything– just… like… did it hurt? 

He paused for a full ten seconds (you counted) and swallowed real hard. Eyes wide as hubcaps, and dark, and frightened. He craned his neck toward you a little. 

Then the door swung open, Tina Burton standing there hand-in-hand with an irritated-looking Steve Harrington. Time’s up, losers! 

Al hadn’t asked if it hurt, when he beat the crap out of him for doing something so stupid. Wayne hadn’t even asked if it hurt, when Eddie came back from the hospital like a dog with its tail between its legs. 

You were the first, and you were the last, and it was before everything. Before you were even Lacy.

“What happened, anyway?” you ask. Soft. Like that last time.

Now, in retrospect, Eddie sees the error of his ways.

“I lit all my hair on fire with a butane torch.” 

“You what?!” 

“It’s not– entirely my fault! I think I saw someone with hair on fire in an X-Men comic and I thought, y’know, that’s an achievable look.” That’s a severe understatement. It was Johnny Storm from The Fantastic Four and Eddie believed that he could be like Johnny Storm only more badass and maybe with like a sick motorbike. What, you’re telling me you didn’t go through a pre-teen-to-mid-teen phase where you were secretly convinced you had superpowers? Smarten up. 

“And how high–”

“Yeah, okay, I was also hitting a Reddi-Wip can like crazy.” The nitrous oxide did not help these delusions. 

“Why the big bandage?”

“Eh, I got some, like, bitsy little burn. Total overreaction.”

“Do you have a scar?” Before he can answer, you’re parting his hair, right near the place you remember that bandage being. Eddie freezes, your frigid fingertips searching his scalp. You are… very close. 

“Uh– no, I don’t.” He gulps, avoiding looking at you directly in your bright, curious little face. “Can I tell you something truly fucking dumb?”

“Wouldn’t be out-of-character for you, that’s for sure.” 

Deep, deep breath. Fucking shit fucking goddammit fuck. Balls. “I regret it.”

“The hair thing? Yeah, you’d think–”

“No. Not kissing you.”

“Oh.” Your hands drop from his skull but don’t exactly leave his hair. Just kind of wound in there, hovering, the way you feel like you’re hovering now. 

“You asked me if it hurt, and then I was gonna– but then, fucking Tina–” Eddie says, eyes dashing to you in these minute little glances. Away, back, away, back.

“Fuckin’ Tina,” you breathe. 

“--and Harrington.”

“Ah.” You shut your eyes. He didn’t notice you were wearing green eyeshadow until right now. “The square root of the problem.”

“Huh?” Barely heard it. Too busy looking at the glitter on your eyelids. The way your eyeballs shift around underneath.

“You’re totally lemon sour bitter with Harrington because you think he made you blow your shot with me.” You open your eyes with a squint.

“That is so not–” Break a spell, why dontcha! But then, Eddie takes a bite. “Actually, if you pop-psychology that, there might be somethin’ there, but… I regret it because I didn’t just–”

You cut in. “Go for it.”

“Shoot.” He confirms.

“Power. Forward.” You emphasize, lips curling.

“Cheer. Leader.” Eddie says, gravel in his voice.

Do you know that your hand is still in his hair? Like, are you physically aware of it? (Answer: no.)

Nick. Nicky?

What.

You asleep?

Yes.

Good. I wanna talk to you.

Your head swivels back from the screen. He watched you look away, dart your tongue out onto your lip, look back at him. 

“Eddie.” There’s fizz in your voice.

“Yes, Lacy.” He wonders what flavor. 

“I think…” and you finally extract your hand to lay it in your lap. Withdrawing, willing to be shot down, but you’re you and you know that you won’t be. “We could make a case for making up for lost time.”

Eddie’s mouth has become very dry. “... meaning that…”

“Eddie, I think that you should kiss me like a seventh grader– eighth grader? So weird, why did Wheeler have eight graders at her bir–”

“Lacy. Back on track, please,” which is another horrendously pin point perfect impression of you. And he needs to be sure that you just said what you just said and that isn’t the ghosts of Lipton landing talking.

“We should try it out. An honest-to-god, never-been-done-before Seven Minutes in Heaven kiss. I happen to think it’d fix something in you.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs.

“No, I’m serious!” And it is kind of fizzing out of you, and you might not be entirely just talking about him for this next part, “I think you’re holding onto a lot of pent up energy that may have just gotten even more pent since we became, y’know–”

“Zoo animals with parallel enclosures?” Eddie says with an arching eyebrow. 

“Wow,” you swallow a breath. “That really sounded like me.”

“I’m afflicted with a Lacyism from time to time.”

“Is that like astigmatism? Because you should get that looked at.”

“Who died and made you my optometrist?”

“Eddie.” Your voice, coming from your face, which is all dappled in the unserene technicolor glow of the Eckers’ Christmas lights, highlighted by the blaze of the black and white on TV. You make it look like stained glass. He would walk into oncoming traffic– “You trust me, right?” He would go and play on the freeway if you asked him to.

Eddie, Christ, he’s got to gather himself. Like the sweat gathering on his palms, he thinks, great work ethic, I need some of that. He gets a bright idea, brighter than those twinkling lights. “I think I need full authenticity in order to make this experience worth it.”

“What?”

“We need to find a closet.”

It’s pretty much a hard no on whether or not the Eckers have a linen closet (you’re a long way from Maple Lane now, babe), so it’s agreed that you’ll give Granny Ecker’s wardrobe a shot. You follow Eddie in there with tentative steps, like you can almost feel her watching all the way from the Best Western in Indianapolis she’s no doubt staying in. Trespassing is bad, yadda yadda, but it’s also exciting.

It’s exciting, being in here with him. 

He glances back at you, eyes a glimmer in the darkened bedroom. “After you,” and he flourishes a hand toward the open closet. 

You two are so not seventh graders anymore– heads bang against hangers, you’re kind of melting into a lot of denim and fleece and you… you don’t have much breathing room. No lavender detergent, just the beer-and-old-weed-sweet smell of Eddie Munson pushed close to flush against your chest. The scent of that shampoo you both use caught somewhere in the middle. 

Your breathing is so shallow, you feel like you might be having an asthma attack. You don’t have asthma. 

“Tight,” he says, and knits his brows, “I mean–”

“Cozy,” you correct, unsure of where to put your hands.

“We’re not cozy people.”

“So let’s do this,” you attempt to smooth your face into something resembling nonchalance, “Kiss me like a seventh-or-eighth grader, Eddie Munson.”

He clears his throat, shaking his head. A smile keeps flicking and dying on his lips. Heart about to burst out of his chest because of how weird this is, because of how weird you are, because of how– how– 

Eddie knits his fingers behind his back in an imitation of you, your girlish pose, and leans forward. About ninety percent, just in case you decide this was a stupid idea, or you don’t like the look of his face up close, or– or–

You close that perfect ten. Your lips feel like flower petals. Light. Baby-soft. Crushable.

It’s so chaste and it’s so innocent. It’s so the diametric opposite of the two of you, brash and harsh in your diverging, abstracting ways– waving only to meet in the middle. It’s pretty, like you are, and Thumper-from-Bambi-thumping-his-foot nervous like he gets around you.  

You pull away a fraction, and Eddie swallows a sound. To save face, he is about to say something– I give it a six or that’s what I’ve been missing out on this whole time or you flap that mouth an awful lot for someone who doesn’t know how to use it, something equally goading. Something that would make this… normal.

Until you take his bottom lip between yours. And it’s wet there. And it’s warm. And your lips are so, so crushable– 

Eddie’s fingers unweave and find your arms, find your waist. Slow, slow, he takes it slow because he could scare you and he doesn’t want to scare you. You’re curving into him, lips slicking against his, and then his tongue licking it’s way into your mouth which you just fucking open for him and it’s so good–

–and he tastes like salt and smoke and he holds you like he’s anchoring himself against you. Your hands wind on up, up, up his chest, catching on his t-shirt where his chest is (duh duh duh you fucking idiot), where his heart is thrumming under that smatter of a tattoo you got caught staring at that night in his trailer. It’s all you’ve got in you not to tug it up and off him, but Christ, no, because you need to keep kissing him. It’s so nice, it feels so nice, kissing him, when was the last time something felt as nice, that’s all you can think with sensation seeping through your body like a sugar rush. Hands move to either side of his neck and he makes a noise. 

Your fingers, fishing hooks in his hair, pulling him closer and closer to you. 

The heat. Of his body. Matched only by the heat gathering in the cherry pit that lives in your stomach. 

And he needs, god, Eddie needs it fucking bad. It is a lot of things. It includes your tongue so far inside his mouth that you can taste the Tab on his uvula this time. It includes more of your tits pressed against him, so he can feel if your nipples have hardened under his touch. It includes this moment, just this moment, just kissing you as your body winds around him–

But then you pull back. Before he can whisper the little, “No…” that’s coming like a reflex, you cover his mouth with your hand. The mouth that’s all slick from kissing– you. 

Jesus Christ. You had really done that. The stupid, idiot both of you. 

“Guys?”

Eddie, dizzy and down-the-rabbit-hole tipsy Eddie, gets the impulse to lick your hand, to take your fingers in his mouth and just start sucking, but he doesn’t do it. Because he has now snapped to the fact that that’s Ronnie Ecker calling out for you. 

The two of you, twisted around each other like snakes in her grandmother’s closet. 

“Go,” you hiss– no, you breathe. He was just expecting you to hiss. But you’re breathy and unsure about the command you’re giving. Still, you jerk your head. 

Well, Eddie’s pretty hard up about telling you this, but, “Can’t. Need a sec–” Like, can’t you feel that?

Eddie’s standing more than half to attention, pressing in between the both of you. 

You let out a jagged breath that sounds like oh, fuck, and it’s not the kind of oh, fuck he was hoping to hear and his heartbeat stutters. 

And then you’re gone. 

Eddie stands there, hands held aloft around the ghost of you that was there, that was right there and kissing him. Like you meant it, like it wasn’t an experiment or a joke or a dare or anything other than what you wanted. You wanted him. You wanted him. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” he breathes into his hands, dragging them down his face, his lips, the smell of you still lingering around him. “Oh… I am so fucked.”

Kentucky fried fucked. 

You make your way back to the living room on trembly legs, reaching for every steadying surface, attempting to destroy the evidence of a swollen mouth and Munson-finger ruffled hair. You find Ronnie sitting upright on the couch. Nick and Nora have nearly solved the case. You don’t give yourself enough time to make a mask of your face that could easily lie to her. 

“Munson had to pull trig,” you say, and it’s not steady enough for Ronnie to not call bullshit.

But she doesn’t. Not outright anyway.

“He okay?” she asks, nearly wary.

“I don’t know. Could be comin’ out of both ends, I don’t know,” you start scrambling around for your bag and your shoes and your coat and not your right mind because you left that back in the closet, somewhere between Eddie’s teeth and tongue. “Look, I hate to ditch on you, but my mom–”

“She’ll be on your ass,” Ronnie says, measured like a cup. “Sure. Go on. I’ll think about calling 911 if he chokes.”

Breathing out some piss-poor rendition of a thanks, you dip out of Ronnie’s and past his van and all the way back the lot towards home. 

It’s freezing. You’re not. For once.

When Eddie finally reappears from the closet, Ronnie is sitting in the exact same position. Except this time she looks somewhat judgier– maybe because it’s easier to be judgier toward Eddie than it is toward you. Some kind of girl politico he doesn’t understand. 

“You feel better?”

“Huh?” Eddie says. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Do you feel better. Lacy told me you had to barf.”

“I… I guess.” Eddie has already cashed in his once-in-a-lifetime lie convincingly to Ronnie Ecker voucher. 

“She also told me you maybe shit yourself?”

Alright, well, that was unnecessary. “Alright, well, that was unnecessary.”

“I guess I was just hoping that…” she sighs, crossing her arms, “... that you weren’t puking and shitting yourself…” she sits back against the couch, “... when you were making out with her. In my… bathroom?”

He really does consider leaving out this detail. “Granny’s closet.”

“Oh, you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“She’ll know. She’ll kill me.”

“Oh, she’ll kill ya,” Ronnie mutters, “And then I’ll go to work on ya.”

—

You two have got to stop fucking each other over like this.

Fucking each other over, conceptually, actually, is interesting. Because Eddie’s done a whole lot of fucking you over in his mind since that closet. Sliding your panties aside and fucking you with his tongue, polyester lace of your stockings creating static against his hair, sparks snapping off your inner thighs as you rub against his nose. 

Following you back to your trailer and fucking you with his fingers against the cold, metal exterior, your nails digging into his neck and your voice stabbing his name into his eardrums. 

Pulling you into his lap in the driver’s seat and tearing through the cotton of your underwear with sheer animalistic fervor, making you lean back against the steering wheel as he sucks your tightened nipples, cock safe and warm in the slick, deep wet of you. 

Somethin’ like that. He didn’t sleep much this weekend.

Mind stuck on the one track, your lips smacking against his. Now in fabulous 3D!

In every single one of these fantasies, too, his idiot sap ass is whining your name fifty billion times more than you’re whining his– so much so that it breaks the fantasy barrier and he’s crying, “Fuck, Lacy-yy–,” into his limp pancake of a pillow, cum careening down a fist that should have nerve damage by now. 

He is exhausted. And to make it worse, he hasn’t seen you. 

He hasn’t even been avoiding you this time. So that’s all on you, you bitch.

“You bitch…” he mumbles, head resting against the cold brick of the newly-unisex senior bathroom, which has become a hellhole in no time. First period on a Monday is usually an okay time to get a bit of peace and fucking quiet, though, because everyone else is at least making an attempt at starting the week off on the right foot. 

But not Eddie. Not worn out, prick-tired Eddie. 

And not whoever is doing a horrible job of hyperventilating in the stall next to him. 

“Excuse me?” a breathless voice says. He thinks he kinda recognizes it but–

Then, ew! Some gagging, some violent coughing, a little ugh, Jesus, please not again–

Eddie slides out of his stall and knocks on the next door– and it swings open with ease. 

She’s crouched over the cistern–gross, fucking gross–and tears are streaming down her peachy cheeks, catching on her pointed chin. 

“Christ, Wheeler. S’matter, you pregnant?”

Nancy Wheeler’s eyes flash in a flare of rage, a choked scoff spitting out of her. She’s about to fucking cuss Eddie out, it looks like, which he kind of wants to see, but then whatever straw that’s holding that together snaps and she lets out this wild sob of total incredulity. 

Ohhh, as much as he would love to bolt out the door like it’s not his problem, Eddie realizes that this has now, somehow, somewhat become kind of his problem. 

—

“I gotta talk to you.” 

Ronnie Ecker appears like a lightning flash, knocking you clean out of your reverie of slowly crawling fingers and lips and teeth and guilt that had been plaguing you all weekend. 

You had spent most of the last forty eight hours staring into the middle distance, ready to glue upright nails into your shoes and walk on them for penance. You fucking stupid slut. Kiss me like a seventh-eighth grader, Eddie Munson. You unbelievable fucking cowshit. See, because, okay, do you know what you’ve done?

You’ve taken the first real friendship you’ve possibly ever had in your life (save for Phoebe, God rest her soul that moved to Saskatoon) and completely entirely fucked it sideways, and sure, you’ve also spent a lot of the weekend thinking about other things getting fucked sideways, like you since you’re now cursed with the knowledge of the vague suggestion of the outline of Eddie Munson’s dick but moreso, foremostly and mainly you want to fucking take a swandive off the edge of Sattler’s Quarry. 

Addendum– there’s too many quarries in this fucking county. 

A ping-ponging of guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-slinking your way to first period the long way that’s only now broken by Ronnie Ecker coming down on you like an Acme anvil.

Meep meep.

She knows. Of course she knows.

“Ronnie,” you whisper, eyes following her as she lands herself into the aforementioned Munson’s seat behind you, “I can explain…”

“Don’t!” There is this vigor, this knife’s edge in Ronnie’s voice that is terrifying and kind of thrilling but mostly scary and having been in the presence of Granny Ecker even those few times, you knew she always had it in her. 

You recoil. A little.

“If Eddie wants to be a fucking moron about you, please can we just let him, and not–” Ronnie’s mouth clamps closed like a Muppet’s might. Like she’s physically trying to calm herself down. “Look. I really like being your friend.”

Oh, Christ, your heart. “I r– I–”

“You’re dogshit with the emotional stuff, I get that, but I’ve been friends with that asshole so long that wearing my heart on my sleeve is like, second fucking nature so I’m not and I’m pissed off, frankly, that there’s a chance of him coming between, like… us.”

You and Ronnie. You, and your friend Ronnie. “Oh, it’s–”

“Because technically, by absolute technicality, I was your friend first, okay? We were lab partners first and I thought we had a vibe goin’ in Biology and I was the first person you wanted to talk to at the Hellfire table even if it was a thinly veiled ploy but you’re so good at ploys and you’re such a piece of work and you’re so funny and I wouldn’t know what Ponds cold cream actually does if it wasn’t for you. Fuck.”

“Granny’s a soap and water girl.” There’s a fluttering in your chest and a thickening in your throat. You swallow big, and you think you might actually start– “This doesn’t mean I’m gonna try fencing, Ron.”

“But it’s fucking cool, even if we do it with sticks.”

You take her in, baseball cap shoved over her coiled hair, darned-all-to-hell sweater sagging out under her overalls and you really feel like something is about to bust out of your chest. Your honest-to-god friend, Ronnie Ecker. 

“Miss Ecker, last time I checked, that’s not your assigned seat.” God, Kaminsky’s such a relentless dickwad.

“I’m having a conversation,” Ronnie says, with the kind of as-yet-unheard volume from her that makes the rest of the class go ooooh!

Jesus fucking Christ, have you turned Ronnie Ecker into a bad girl?

“I don’t give a shit!” rumpled Kaminsky says, slapping that dusty chalkboard duster full of dust, “Have it in detention.”

“Hey! That’s–”

But if you can do one thing for Ronnie. “No can doozy, Mr K, Miss Ecker has a prior commitment.” 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, not you again,” he mumbles not-quite-under his breath. “And what is that? Lacy?”

Before you can even say the words peer tutoring, none other than Eddie Munson is barrelling through the door. He stops comically short at the top of the classroom, gesturing to Ronnie in his seat like what the fuck? 

“Lacy!” he eventually says, and he’s breathless and flustered and just like you imagined him in–

“Munson, what in the name of the goddamn Father Almighty–”

“Weekly Streak–” and guy is just snapping his fingers, blinking wildly at you, “–thing!”

You stare on in a state of confusion until you spy Nancy Wheeler right in your eyeline, right through the open classroom door. Her little face streaked with tears, and god, she looks like shit, and she’s beckoning to you with a flutter and a fury. 

“No, of course!” a little murmuring, uh, shit, and you hurry to the top of the classroom, slamming the homework that Kaminsky’s obviously going to ask for on his desk with a rattle. 

“Kaminsk, my man, the future of print media is forever in your debt!” Eddie calls, ushering you out the door and into the echoey hallway. 

“What is going on?”

Both Eddie and Nancy shuffle you down the hallway, avoiding the monitors (rat finks!), dipping under the east stairwell. A great stairwell. So much illicit shit has happened in this stairwell and you have an itemized list of it all, somewhere in your brain. The kind of person people tell things to.

Nancy’s just full tilt gulping like a fish out of water, and Eddie’s all, “Wait, shit, are you gonna barf again?” and you’re all, “Answers, please, tout suite!”

“I’m late.” Nancy’s voice doesn’t even tremble. She’s that scared.

“Fuck.”

“Very?”

“Extremely.”

“You’re sure?” you press, and suddenly you’re the kind of person that grabs Nancy Wheeler’s shoulders. 

Her lip trembles. “I mean, I haven’t–” 

“Well, we gotta. Right now.” And it occurs to you that Eddie is just standing there, a polite enough distance away that he’s involved but kind of not involved, but respecting the space that you two need. How does he know how to do that? How does he always know the right… “Eddie.” 

He snaps to attention, mouth all serious and eyes all eager. You want to kiss him again, but this shit is not about you. 

“We need a ride to the drugstore.” 

The three of you pile into Eddie’s van, him insisting on doing the honors of opening the passenger door for you again, and Nancy quietly requesting that you share the passenger seat with her. You two are squished together, her spindly thighs overlapping yours. Denim versus dark suede. There is a very tense silence in place the entire van ride there, Nancy digging her nails into her palm and Eddie nervously thrumming against the steering wheel. The tape deck plays resumes mid-play– Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. 

For your part, you experience a harsh zoom-out moment– Nancy, who you’ve learned is almost as strong-headed as you, just on a better moral track (lawful good versus chaotic neutral, you think Eddie once framed it), is stranded. She’s the eldest sibling to that little shitstain Michael and Holly, who’s a baby so to you has no discernible personality, and her mother is kind of an airhead and her father… you don’t know shit about, but it’s Hawkins, so dads. The responsibility of everything seems to fall on her all the time, and you can only be so resourceful as a teenage girl in a town like this. Especially when the other teenage girls seem to, at best, keep you at arm’s length, or at worst, ostracize you. 

And Nancy had lost Barbara Holland. Who, when she mentions her, is talked about with such a glow that’s followed by such a wave of sadness that it nearly takes you under too.

She misses her so much. She misses her best friend so much. 

Barb should be the one dealing with this. Not you. Which sounds like you’re shirking responsibility. But really, it’s because you don’t know if you fully deserve the privilege of helping Nancy. 

Truth is, Nancy would probably be okay, handling this on her own. Sure, it’d be another inch of depth added to the chasm of loneliness building in that poor girl’s psyche, but she’d do it, because she’s Nancy and she handles things.

Just like you’re Lacy and you handle things. 

But however Eddie Munson ended up as part of this situation… he brought her to you. Because he knew you’d know what to do. So she wouldn’t have to do it alone. 

Because Eddie doesn’t want people to do things alone. 

You only really have that impulse if you know how terrible it feels. 

And if you don’t see kindness as a weakness.

Which Nancy doesn’t. And Eddie doesn’t. And you… don’t want to, anymore.

You reach and peel Nancy’s fingernails from the grooves they’re digging into her flesh. You don’t even look at the half-moon marks they’ve made. You just glue her palm to your palm and web your fingers. And over the frizz of Nancy’s perm–the nice kind, salon kind, the kind that doesn’t stink of egg–you look at Eddie, just as he glances at you.

He smiles, small and unsure and wavering. You bite your lips between your teeth and try the same. 

“Shit, I don’t think I can go in here.” 

The van has skidded into an inconspicuous (but not entirely, because have you seen that fucking vehicle) place near the drugstore.

“Why?”

“People– the pharmacist knows my mom and everything,” Nancy shudders, “There’s no way that people won’t have something to– fucking say.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and you give him a look like, welcome to the Nancy Wheeler Actually Swears Club. Care for a canape?

And y’know, you could argue so what. So what if people have something to say. You’re young, mistakes happen, the world keeps turning. But one skip in a perfect twelve-inch record of reputation like Nancy’s can make her life a living hell. You know that. 

Shit, she knows that– you weren’t not aware of that stroke of creative genius vandalism that went up on the Hawk marquee that one time.  

And it would shatter Nancy’s mom’s heart. And while you don’t have the same time of day for her, Nancy really loves her mom. 

Once you’ve ruined your reputation, you can live quite freely. 

That moveable feast motherfucker was onto something. 

Click, and Eddie’s glovebox pops open in a clatter of tapes and a one-hitter and other ephemera. You reach in, retrieving sunglasses you’d left in here a little bit ago. 

“So let’s give ‘em something to talk about,” you say, sliding on the shades. 

Nancy clutches your arm, eyes wide and searching. “Lacy.”

You shrug, like it’s nothing. Except nerves have started nibbling at you. “Spot me a ten. What am I, a goddamn Rockefeller?”

“Not anymore,” Eddie Munson grins at you. Sun breaking through the bleak midwinter. The nerves cease their nibbling. 

—

The tension doesn’t exactly ease when you make a beeline for the drugstore (particularly because you’ve just accepted a goddamn miniature hero’s quest and he’s a little… well, he’s not not watching your ass as you walk away, let’s put it that way). 

Eddie and Nancy Wheeler are still absolutely enormous universes apart. Not even the same species. He doesn’t mind keeping it that way. This right here is just, like… the right thing to do. 

He moves to turn the radio down, figuring that the thrum of Fade to Black might be a little much for her right now. “Sorry. Didn’t mean for–”

“No, it’s okay.” Wheeler smiles that flat, priss smile reserved for the barest of polite gestures. 

Eddie nods, propping his elbow against the window, cupping his face in his hand. He keeps kind of sneaking sidelong glances toward Wheeler, because– well, had you told her anything? About… Seven Minutes in Heaven? Does she even remember that, from her birthday party all that time ago? He knew that you two weren’t exactly tight, but were well on your way to getting tight, but not as tight as you are with Ronnie and certainly not as tight as you are–or were–with him and Jesus Christ almighty, he’s got to find a synonym for the word tight.

“You… play Dungeons and Dragons, right?” Wheeler asks all of a sudden.

Eddie glances down– he is in fact wearing his Hellfire shirt. She’s a sharp one, that Nancy.

“I dabble,” he says, a derisive little chuckle that’s not all-the-way mean spirited.

Wheeler bobs her head. “My brother, Mike,” she says, and he sees now that it’s an effort to keep her nerves steady, “he loves it. Like, he’s totally obsessed. Him, and his friends, they’ve got their own little party going. Majorly long campaigns, very involved.” 

“Campaigns, parties. Using terminology like that, I’d say you’re something of a dabbler, Wheeler.”

Nancy chuckles. “I– may have dressed up as an elf for one. Or two. When I was way, way younger, though.”

“Well, your brother– Mike?” Eddie checks and Nancy nods, “Once he gets to high school, why dontcha tell him to look up Hellfire. Could be the best-worst decision he’ll make for the next four years of his life.”

“Right, because you’ll be passing the torch,” she says, grinning.

“And possibly to a Wheeler. Oh my stars and garters,” Eddie gasps, clutching his chest in mock-shock. 

Wheeler laughs and, okay, maybe she’s not so bad.

“Shoot, we have movement.” And out you come, holding the Advance pregnancy test over your head, gleaming and victorious– but Eddie and Nancy flap their hands, willing you to put that fucking thing away! We’re being subtle!

Climbing back in the van, you announce, “Alright, so the good news– no doctoral interference, obviously. The wonders of modern medicine, everybody give thanks to Johnson and Johnson, et cetera. The bad news– who knows of somewhere we can steal–” you glance back at the box, “--thirty glorious uninterrupted minutes of time?”

“Lacy, I can just–” Nancy starts, but you stop her short with a tap to the head. 

“And have you sitting in class all day with your guts churning because you don’t know what’s up or down that spout? I think the fuck not. We’re doing this now.” This is out of the goodness of your heart, you swear it is. 

But there might be a fraction, just a generous sliver, that still loves the drama. 

Like Steve Harrington, it’s not an immediate shed of the ego. It’s a slough. 

“Well, my place is a no-go,” Nancy tells you, shrugging into herself. “My mom will definitely be home.”

“Ditto,” and your mother is the only person you know that loves gossip more than you do. Besides Eddie, of course. 

After a beat or two of wondering silence, Eddie raises a hand. “I may… have someplace… we can go.”

—

How many cherry bombs does it take to make a boy’s bathroom look like the bombing of Dresden?

“So fuuun fact, turned out that some nerd swiped a hunk of sodium from the Chemistry lab and just blew this mother to shit,” Eddie brightly informs you and Nancy as the two of you pour over the instructions for the pregnancy test kit. 

“While everyone was distracted by Heather Holloway’s implants, you mean?” you murmur, scanning over the small-sheet size booklet.

“Streets are saying she was an accomplice.”

Holy fuck, these instructions were involved. Nancy stands clutching the little rectangular tray that her pee is supposed to go in, nailing Eddie with a look beyond normal categorical nerves. “You’re sure no one’s gonna come in here?” 

He shakes his head. There might as well be police tape all over the door of this bathroom, that’s how off limits it is. “It’s cold, it’s broken, it smells gross. Maybe some people are using this place to huff paint, but I can guarantee, Wheeler–” and he bends a little to meet her earnest eyes, “--I will bark like a fucking rabid dog to clear ‘em away if I need to.” 

Nancy nods shortly. Jerk, jerk. She disappears into the least dilapidated stall with her pee rectangle. 

“God, she is so scared,” Eddie murmurs to you, crossing his arms. 

You’re still studying the instructions. This shit has droppers and test tubes and color changing strips, oh my. “Pissing shouldn’t be a problem, then.”

Wrong.

“Guys.”

“Yes?” “Yeah, Wheeler?”

“I’m a little, ahem–” Bladder shy. Perfect. Awesome. Not that you guys aren’t going to be shacked up here for thirty minutes anyway, but that’s only after Nancy Wheeler goes number one and you, like, mix up the pregnancy oracle potion. 

Shit. “We’ve gotta do something to like, make her chill out–” Eddie half-mouths at you. 

“Yeah, but she’s so high strung, that’s like–” a spark hits you. “Wait, have you got anything on you?”

“Fresh out. Waiting on a shipment from Lipton landing.” 

You smack him, not even thinking, and he winces. “And all that shit you were smoking the other day, that was–” “That was market research, babe, and I told you that–”

Nancy clears her throat from inside the stall. “Please, don’t quit bickering on my account. I’m only trying to figure out whether or not I need to start rehearsing lullabies.” 

Damn Nancy, Eddie mouths and you almost laugh. Wait.

“Nance, what’s your favorite song?” 

“Huh?”

You shake your hands. “Like, the song you absolutely cannot go without hearing? The one that makes you feel, just–”

“Ticklish?” Eddie suggests, the paragon of knowledge, the pinnacle of your annoyance. You thump him again. “I need a safe word.”

“Um– uh…”

“C’mon, Wheeler, the song that makes you feel just… awesome and chill and on top of the fucking world, c’mon!” Eddie encourages, kicking detritus around the bathroom floor.

Nancy eventually, eventually mumbles something. 

You pivoting around on your heel by the sink. “Louder, Wheeler, I wasn’t born with sonar.”

“It’s– it’s ‘Just What I Needed’.”

What? Eddie mouths to you, arms binding across his chest. 

“What, like– The Cars, ‘Just What I Needed’?”

A pause from Nancy’s end. “... yeah.”

You know this song. You know that song, right, it’s like duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-DEW-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-DEW… Shaking yourself out, you brace up like a boxer heading into the ring. 

“Gimme a lead in, Nancy.” Holy fucking shit, you’re really doing this. Nancy hesitates, probably because she can’t believe any of you are really doing this. 

A mumble… “I don’t mind you comin’ here…”

“--and wastin’ all my time!” you jump in, “”cause when you’re standin’ oh so near, I kinda lose my mind…” 

Visions of a plush lilac bedroom, yours, and a mountain of clothes and makeup and drained wine cooler bottles on the floor. You, standing on your bed in your socks and shorts, vamping– Tina and Carol singing hairbrush backup, Nicole on air guitar and Cass smoking out the window. There were flashes of this, you know, when it wasn’t all boiling vitriol and subtle shivving and one-up-manship. When you and those girls that you wished you weren’t near but knew you needed actually felt like friends. 

A memory like that makes you feel empty. 

“It’s not the perfume that you wear,” oh my god, “It’s not the ribbons–in–your–hair,” is he really, “And I don’t mind you comin’ here– and wastin’ all my time!”

Why the fuck does Eddie Munson know this song?! Your jaw drops open, your eyes go wide and your feet stamp against the tile like a goddamn kid. Yes! Yes! Amazing! You’re both so fucking out of tune, like there is absolutely a reason he does not sing a single note in Corroded Coffin but by god alive, you’re giving it everything you got in that fucked up boy’s bathroom. 

Eddie’s so much better at it than you are, pouring every bit of obnoxious showmanship into it that he possibly can– complete with pulling you in for a fully nonsensical dance number. You spin into him, crashing into his chest with a clumsiness you never thought possible, laughing so hysterically that you can barely get the words out. He’s holding the reins, and holding that falsetto so badly you think the mirrors will shatter. 

Your skin is buzzing, your heart is hammering and Eddie is pressed against your back and you are both scream-singing to the door of Nancy’s cubicle– “I guess you’re just what I needed! Just what I needed! I needed someone to feed– I guess you’re just what I needed! Just what I needed I needed someone to–”

“Pee! Pee, you guys, I’m peeing!” Nancy’s voice, bright and high from actually laughing, rings from the busted toilet. 

You and Eddie erupt into a triumphant yell, him shaking you like a rag doll against him. The laughter peels away and then it’s just kind of him, looking at you from over your shoulder. His arms wrapped tight around your waist. His lips, a little cracked. Breath a little labored. Lashes still so long. You nearly–

The door flings open and he jumps away from you first. Nancy heads toward the sink and you resume the position, helping her figure out the Chemistry play set that holds the answer to how the rest of her life pans out. Thirty whole minutes, they’ve got to wait. 

Nancy notes the time on her watch. 

She even suggests that you guys can go at one point, but Eddie reminds her that a) he’s keeping an eye out for paint huffers and b) “... y’know, maybe it’s not so great to…” “Do this on your own,” you finish for him. Nancy nods, silent and grateful and so fucking nervous. 

At about the seventeen minute mark, when you and Eddie have smoked four cigarettes each and Nancy has tried a puff of one (“Nope,” she hacks, “still totally vile…”), Eddie tosses this stink bomb between you two. Nancy has excused herself to stand with her head against the cubicle door. Something about calming her nerves. Coming up with a plan. Something to tell Steve, no doubt. 

So it’s just you and Eddie, you sitting on the edge of the sink and Eddie rhythmically kicking the wall. 

“You ever wanna be a mom?”

“Jesus, what a time to land that one on me.” You almost make a joke like you haven’t even stuck it in me yet, but that’s in bad taste. And implies a yet. 

Eddie smiles over his shoulder, fluttering his eyelashes. Stupid. Stupid eyelashes. “Grounds of relevance.”

You pinch your lips between your teeth. “... fine. But, I fully reserve the right to change my answer given the fact that we are eight-shitting-teen years old.”

He points to the cubicle and mutters, “Well, she’s seventeen.”

You, wide-eyed at his dumbassery, mouth I know!

“Okay. Sorry. Go.”

“Fuuuuuck no. No babies pour moi, merci, c’est bon, au revoir!”

Eddie turns to lean against the wall, propping one leg up. God, but he does lean great. 

“Why?”

“Genetic fate.”

“Huh?”

A sigh flutters out of you, shoulders slumping forward. “A certain… how do you say, thread of assholery runs through my family, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.” 

Eddie nods sagely and you kind of want to punch him for it. “Daddy issues. Right.”

“Uh!” A hand flies up in your defense. “Let who among us here without them cast the first stone.”

From the cubicle, Nancy calls, “Not me.”

Surrendering, Eddie grumbles, “Yeah, not me either.”

“Glad we agree.”

There’s another tick and tock of silence, and you get the distinct feeling of something being pried open in the atmosphere. 

“... whatever happened with your dad, anyway?”

Ah. The million dollar question. Whatever happened with your dad, so-called upstanding member of the Hawkins community, poor little poor boy done rich, scaling his way up the ladder of property management in this delightful little Midwestern enclave?

“Not a big fan of the news, are we, Munson?”

He seems to grimace at you tugging on his surname. “Print’s too small.”

“Taking offense to that,” Nancy chimes. 

“It was the big ‘E’,” you say, kind of not into bantering about it. 

“‘E’... ‘E’... ‘E’...” Eddie kicks the wall on each utterance. Possibly forgetting that he could also be the big ‘E’, if he wanted. You wonder if, just in terms of size…

“Embezzlement, Eddie,” you cut that thought off cold. 

His eyes widen, eyebrows shooting under his shaggy bangs. “Shooooot.”

“Score.”

“What all did he, like… embezzle?”

The raising of the hackles is not entirely intentional. “Y’know who’d be able to answer that question, Eddie?”

But he sees it. He calms it. In unison, you both shrug, “Al Munson.”

Boom! Cubicle door flies open again. You’re starting to think that Nancy might just love making an entrance. Lot of flourishing happening here. Not entirely unlike Eddie in that way. 

“It’s time.” 

Each and every one of you beeline to where the test is set up on one of the sinks. Nancy gingerly plucks the offending strip from the test tube and Eddie, a man with money on his mind, asks another million dollar question. “So how do you know…”

You grab the instruction leaflet that you’d been tearing corners off of, making it look nearly moth-bitten. “Wait, it’s white, right?”

“It’s white,” Nancy whispers.

“It’s not, like… off blue, or…”

“No, that is white,” she’s trembling. “Is white– is that good, or– I can’t remember.”

“Nancy Wheeler…” you breathe, peeking over the paper, “Congratulations. You are nobody’s mother!” 

She emits a shriek like nothing you’ve ever heard and barrels straight into you, near knocking you off your feet with a strength you didn’t know this little waif was capable of possessing. Her arms wrap boa constrictor tight around you, her words bubbling over like a shook up can of pop. “Jesus Christ, I’m so relieved, I just– I–!”

“You’re relieved?!” Eddie yells, ringed hands tearing down his face, “I’m way too young to be an uncle! Fuck! Thank god!”

Nancy chokes out a laugh through her tears, tears of relief, thank god and– and you don’t know if it’s selfish and you don’t know if it’s possible but you hope… you hope that’s helped close the chasm. Just a little bit. That she didn’t have to do this all alone in a shithouse bathroom that smells like sulfur and piss. 

Breaking away from you (damn, you wish you knew how to hug), Nancy straightens herself up. Not that she needs to. She’s a pretty crier, that bitch. 

“Just one more thing, you guys.” 

“Anything,” you say before you even know you’ve said it. 

“This is… between us, okay?” her eyes dart from you to Eddie, and you both take a step closer to her. Ceremoniously, Nancy holds out her two pinkie fingers. You link. Eddie links. His finger looks comically large compared to hers– and yours, when he reaches and hooks it around your unsuspecting baby finger. 

“No one can know. No one needs to know.” There’s that headstrong Wheeler reserve you’d been missing. 

“Cross my heart,” you proclaim.

“Hope to d– well, I don’t hope to die, that’s a little dramatic–”

“Eddie!” you both bark, varying degrees of amusement. Yours is on the lower end. “Swear on something real,” you push. 

He hesitates a moment, then gives Nancy a look. “Alright. Swear on Hellfire.” 

“Swear on Hellfire,” Nancy grins all tight, and kisses her right hand, hooked into Eddie’s finger. “Lacy?”

“Swear on Hellfire…” You mumble, rolling your eyes and kissing your Nancy’d hand. You need to swallow, first, before you tug your hand that’s hooked into Eddie’s toward your mouth. 

And he does the worst thing. He leans down to meet your gaze, suckering you right in as his lips pout. They’re hungry. You’ve met those lips. “Swea-aar,” he sing-songs. 

“--on Hellfire, okay,” you scoff, half-laughing into the little kiss. 

“Ha!” Eddie barks, so fucking loud that it jumps off the walls. “Trick! You just made a deal with the devil, ladies, so I hope you enjoy eternal damnation at the hands of yours truly!”

Dumb as he is, Eddie might be right. If the way you’re looking at him is anything to go by.

author's notes: MERRY CHRISTMAS MOTHERFUCKERS. WE GOT IT WE DID IT WE MADE THEM KISS WE MADE THEM REALIZE SOMETHINGS NOT ALL THE THINGS SURELY BUT IT'S. IT'S SOMETHING. IT'S A START! on to the fun bits, like the jokes in the christmas crackers - absolutely obsessed with the mental image of eddie munson's bangs grown too long and he looking like this - cherry bombs down the john is a reference to the classic prank but mostly to american graffiti my beloved. later in the chapter, eddie says that some kid just threw some sodium down there which is something i read about on this reddit thread when researching cherry bombs. domestic terrorism at hawkins high! - p.t. barnum is that mfer that the greatest showman is based on. horrible man! not a fan! - heather holloway's jayne mansfield titties got me thinking about the jayne mansfield-sophia loren photo which has its own wikipedia page??? anyway, lacy coded! - black christmas is a stunning christmas horror film from 1974, which is loosely in part based on a bunch of murders that happened in the westmount neighborhood in montreal, quebec. fun fact, i just moved back from mtl after living there for a year. anyway black christmas kicks ASS - lipton landing is 100% a juno reference. big up my king elliot page - the thin man is one in a series of fantastic lil films from the 1930s all about nick and nora charles, a married couple that get drunk and SOLVE CRIMES. i'm not doing it justice by describing it that way but myrna loy and william powell are the royals of married banter and i model everything i write after their rhythm, more or less. - you're trying to tell me eddie munson didn't do whippets as a kid fucking wise up - one of my personal precious favourite recurring jokes in this series is 'who died and made you my x' and baby. i love a recurring joke - ronnie saying "oh she'll kill ya. then i'll go to work on ya," is a special reference because a) it's from my favourite film of all time, ocean's eleven and b) ayo edebiri, who i've fancast as ronnie ecker, has an ocean's eleven tattoo. we are sisters and also wives! - meep meep! - all i could think about when writing about how guilty lacy was - another metallica needle drop!!!! - pregnancy tests in the 80s really were that insane and involved! there's a great scene in glow (rest in fucking PEACE! gone but never forgotten) of alison brie's character using one, and here's more of the history - maybe the best needle drop of this whole series imo - finally peeped into those daddy issues. look forward to more of that and with that my hellcats, i wish you the merriest of holiday seasons wherever you find yourself and whatever you're doing. i will be back after the christmas break because i have to fully wreck my bank account and see every single person i have ever known and drink every espresso martini on dry land. sorry if there's typos in this, i have been labouring over it for... ever. reblogs, comments, likes and asks are always appreciated and i love you so much it's bordering on criminal! thank you!!!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #e. munson by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #published by powder

[pshcomforts]

➳ line without a hook | psh.

collegestudent!sunghoon x fem!reader (feat. sanha from astro)

“all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around”

synopsis: you and sunghoon have been friends since high school and though you guys can’t admit it, you two are in love with each other.

warnings/content: written in third pov. college au. friends to lovers. idiots in love. fluff! slight angst? sunghoon gets jealous (i always make him get jealous hehe). happy ending. sickly amount of “loser” & “idiot” used a lot as nicknames. suicide jokes. cursing and not proofread. i think that’s it?

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend). another personal oneshot fav.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: line without a hook by ricky montgomery

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:32 ──|───────────────── 3:36

the early morning made its peaking cracks of sunshine as y/n arose in her bed.

she rubbed her eyes awake, hands reaching for her phone for the time.

[ 7:48 am ] — it read.

the girl groaned out a sigh. ‘whose idea was it to register for a 9am class again?’ she thought before swiping her screen to check her missed notifications. almost immediately, she jumped out of her blanket when finding a text from her friend, sunghoon.

hoonster :) :

y/n, you awake??

Wake up loser, I’m on the way

You better be awake when I come

“aw shit!” she yelled, pushing her tired body.

in a rush, y/n exhibited loud thuds of footsteps as she ran back and forth from the bathroom to get ready.

“don’t be here yet, don’t be here yet!” she uttered under her breath.

her hands shakily found some casual clothes once she was done with the bathroom area.

just then, her phone furiously buzzed.

“hello??” she spoke.

“hey loser, you ready yet?” she heard sunghoon ask on the other side.

immediately, her heart thumped. she felt the butterflies of a high school type of crush hit her stomach. she swallowed down her feelings for her friend as she murmured, “you’re already here?”

hoon gave a quiet chuckle that exerted more butterflies to flood her abdomen. “yes dummy, i’m waiting at the front of your house. hurry up, we’re gonna be late!”

y/n groaned out a sigh after coming into the realization that her crush was still her asshole friend after all. “okay, okay! i’m coming out now!” she yelled, digging her feet into her favorite shoes before running out.

a few seconds later and sunghoon found the girl he’s liked since high school burst out of her house. a half smile tugged at his lips as he watched her quietly fume out a few words that he figured was most likely about being late.

his eyes formed into half moon crescents in a glistening look, heart and mind directly falling in the thought of being in her presence.

his car doors clicked and in came y/n.

she huffed out a few breaths of air before buckling her seat in. “now why the hell did i choose a 9am class??” her hand reached to her chest, feeling her heart beat like crazy.

sunghoon chuckled. he was in complete love and there was no doubt about that. “because you wanted a class with me, loser.” he joked, hands reaching down to his cup holder.

the girl shot him a glare — “excuse me? you were the one who said ‘let’s do chemistry 2A together,’ and now we’re both struggling!”

he cackled out another laugh as he merged the car into the next lane. “yeah yeah, you know you wanted that class with me.”

y/n huffed out a sigh in annoyance. “hoon, i swear-“

“got you some coffee, i know you’ll probably need it.” he said, quickly cutting her morning anger off.

there it was again. that nervous sensation bubbling inside of her. “you did??” her head tilted down to find her attractive friend hand her the cup of coffee.

this is what friends did right? pick them up? get them coffee? have a class together? surely, sunghoon thought of her just as a friend?

no. the two were idiots in love, but they liked it. the mixed signals. the chemistry. the tension. they loved the game of push and pull, and it became obvious to everyone but them.

“don’t act so surprised,” the handsome male intruded her thoughts. “i’m nice to you.”

y/n automatically scoffed at his words. “nice?? you are anything but nice, park sunghoon.”

the car screeched to a stop with a red light in front of them, causing him to glance back at her. “so if i’m not nice to you, what’s this then? picking you up, hm?” one of his thick brows raised in question as his inner lips softly curled.

the girl had to look away with how handsome he looked. just a simple stare could set her heart off.

“shut up, hoon. we’re friends, this is what we do.” she playfully rolled her eyes as he widened his smile.

“yeah.. friends.” he murmured. his heart lightly sank at the friend zone but he couldn’t dare to do anything else other than stare back at the road. “take the coffee, will you? i need to drive, unless you want us to crash.”

y/n gasped at his suicidal joke but quickly turnt it into a mount of giggles. “do it, sunghoon! crash us! i don’t want to go to chemistry.”

sunghoon immersed into laughter as well, shaking his head at how his favorite girl just joked about death. “sorry, looks like we have to make it through another day of torture.”

she sighed. “fine but if the professor asks why we’re late, i’m blaming you.”

“right back at you,” he snorted with a head shake, causing the girl to nudge his arms.

y/n rolled her eyes before turning her attention to her phone.

jake’s girl 🫂:

are you guys almost here??

sunoo’s been wondering

y/n <33:

almost!

well tell sunoo to hold on bc we still have to find parking!

jake’s girl 🫂:

girl your class starts in like 20 minutes!

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

Just get your butt over here!

hee’s fav 🤍:

hee and i are about to leave before you guys show

y/n <33:

LMFAOO we’ll be there soon!

“hurry up, hoon! they’re waiting!”

sunghoon made a ‘tsk’ noise with his tongue as he said, “i can’t go pass the speed limit here y/n. what do you want me to do?”

she groaned out a sigh before crossing her arms. “geez hoon, you’re driving like a grandma.”

“i’m sorry, speedy, i don’t want to get a ticket this early in the morning.”

the girl smiled as she watched him pull up to a parking spot. “finallyy! you parked far but..,”

“just shut up and walk, loser.” he responded, ruffling her hair before walking out of the car.

she clicked her tongue as she obeyed, slinging her heavy bag around her shoulders. as she did so, she felt the weight suddenly relieve off of her.

y/n turned her direction to where her friend was, and found him carrying her bag.

“hoon what-“

“i can see you practically struggling and well.. you’re weak so i’ll carry it for you.”

she rolled her eyes before letting him in proceed. “that’s sweet but that’s still asshole-like.”

hoon chuckled at her words as he held her bag around his shoulders. “come on, we’re gonna be late.”

the two rushed to their friend group, legs speeding through campus to find them huddled in a corner.

“finally! you guys took so long,” min-su groaned.

y/n laughed before sending a smack to her arms. “shut up, we’re here now!” she yelled back as she gave a soft nudge.

sunghoon chuckled, laying his arm on his friend’s shoulder in comfort. “she woke up late as usual,” he said, ruffling his own hair. “that’s why you don’t see her with her usual makeup on.”

the girl took offending, gasping in shock before harshly hitting his arm. “i hope that bruises, loser!” she cackled out a laugh as she proudly nodded.

hoon rubbed his arm while displaying a smile on his face. “never, i’m too strong.” he teased with a shit eating grin.

the group shared their laughs before ji-woo intruded — “stop being lovey dovey, your class starts soon!”

y/n groaned, ignoring her teasings about her and sunghoon as she replied, “you just had to remind me..,”

“shut up and go!” her friend yelled back, pushing her arm with a wide smile.

soon, y/n, sunghoon, and sunoo walked to their dreaded chemistry class while the others stayed together.

“why don’t we just ditch??” the girl murmured in a pout.

“you know we can’t y/n,” sunoo scowled.

“you guys suck.”

“just stay for the lecture, our exam is next week anyway,” responded sunghoon.

before she could give another remark, the three entered in the class.

with them being a little late, scattered seats filled the room, causing the three to separate. sunghoon and sunoo sat near each other while y/n sat about two seats away from them.

she huffed out a soft sigh as she plopped down. “let’s just go through this for the day..,” she murmured to herself.

hoon glanced at her from afar, pupils basically forming heart shapes in his eyes that had sunoo scoffing. his attention landed on the male who was only shaking his head.

“what?” sunghoon seethed through a clenched jaw.

“nothing.. loverboy.” sunoo snorted in a laugh afterwards, causing an irritating sigh to come out of hoon’s mouth.

“don’t call me that.”

“it fits you, surprised she hasn’t noticed yet with how much you stare at her.”

the older male quietly fumed in his seat, rolling his eyes as sunoo was spurting out every ticklish bone in his body.

“seriously, hoonie” sunoo teased — “she’s gonna notice at some point.”

“shut up,” sunghoon harshly whispered back, hands almost raising to send a smack like y/n always does.

“see? you’re picking up on her habits too.”

right when hoon was about to speak, the professor intruded in with a clear throat, hinting that class would be starting in seconds.

“deny it all you want, but you like the girl.” the younger boy softly said with a lean towards him. “don’t take too long though, someone else might steal her.”

sunghoon’s head popped up. he instantly looked at his friend with confusion/betrayal plastered across his face.

“not me, dumbdumb.” sunoo tilted his head towards y/n. “look who’s talking to her.”

almost immediately, hoon found his close friend talking to sanha — a guy in their class who was a few years older. he sat next to her, taking the empty seat and made small talk towards her.

“sanha??” he repeated the name with a scoff.

“you don’t have to be so obvious about your jealousy.”

“i’m not jealous,” hoon lied, an oblivious amount of red tinted on his ears.

the taller male began to ignore the remaining words sunoo spewed out, tuning it away so he could distract himself from the hurtful sight.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when what felt like long hours had finally passed, students scattered out of the class.

y/n stayed behind as usual, taking her time to gather her things when sanha approached her.

“hey, you said your name was y/n right?” he asked with glistening eyes.

“yeah, yours was.. sanha?”

her response that turned into a question caused a chuckle to erupt out of the tall boy.

“sorry, i have bad memory.” y/n quickly defended, allowing him to holler out a few more laughs.

“you’re okay, don’t worry. i was just wondering if we could exchange numbers? just if you want to have a study session together or something.”

the girl stood still in her stance. she’s never really been approached this way before. even if he was just being friendly, it’s definitely been a bigger step to how guys were upfront with her.

“oh.. yeah, sure!” y/n reached down for her phone and gave him the desired phone number.

it was then that sunghoon and sunoo walked in on the scene. “you ready?” the shorter male asked with lips pressing into a line.

“yeah, let me just finish this up.”

hoon took a quick glance down to her hands; watching how they softly grazed against some strangers burned his heart. he felt his blood boiling at how she was so politely nice to sanha.

“we don’t have all day,” he grumbled, causing a confused and annoyed glare to be shot at him from y/n.

she quickly turned back to sanha with an apologetic smile. “sorry, they’re in a rush more than usual. i’m always the one who has to rush them,” she cheekily said.

the older boy reflected the smile back as he warmly replied, “don’t worry, y/n, i can wait all day for you.”

sunghoon’s ears perked up at his words. ‘what is he trying to do? flirt with her?’ he thought to himself with a clear scoff in his throat.

the puff of air that left his mouth caused the three heads to turn to him. sunoo cackled out a laugh, hands on his mouth to shut himself up with amusement. he hit hoon’s chest while murmuring, “sorry he’s really cranky, he didn’t wake up on the right side of the bed today.”

y/n’s head cocked to the side. ‘but he seemed perfectly fine today,’ she thought. what an idiot.

“um, okay… well just text me when you want a study session.” she said to sanha, who began to furiously blush, pissing sunghoon off even more.

“hurry up, you’re taking a long time.” the boy who was jealous uttered in an eye roll.

she sent a glare towards him before turning her head back to sanha in a smile. “see you soon, sanha.”

he beamed an ear-to-ear grin to her before nodding and taking off from the scene.

“couldn’t have been more obvious that he liked you?” hoon unintentionally blurted in an eye roll.

“are you okay or what? why are you suddenly so bitter?” y/n shot to him with a side eye.

“yeah hoon, what’s wrong? cant handle seeing your friend get hit on?” sunoo intervened, raising his brows ever so slightly to display how much of an asshole he was being. he slung an arm around the girl, bringing her closer in his embrace as they walked out.

sunghoon let out a ‘pft’ before walking side by side with them. “why wouldn’t i be able to handle it? i’m shocked that some guy was even willing to ask for her number.” he said, causing a harsh push to be made from y/n.

“uh do i act like this when some girl asks you out?? no, i help you by giving advice..,” she rolled her eyes, ignoring the burning sensation in her heart before scooting her body closer to sunoo’s — allowing him to just chuckle alongside their bicker.

hoon huffed out a sigh. “can’t give you advice on this one then. sorry, loser.” he murmured. his attempt to play it cool was stupid, but the girl still bought into it with how annoying he was being.

“i didn’t ask for your advice, did i?” y/n snickered, causing another holler to be heard from sunoo.

sunghoon rolled his eyes and poked his tongue through his cheek. he hated how close she was suddenly becoming with their friend. usually, she’d be in his arms, his presence, and his care.

but all he could do for now was make snarky comments about some guy that asked for her number.

“so what? you’re gonna go out with this guy now? he’s gonna come to our hangouts now?” the annoyed boy half-heartedly joked, trying to let it come off as something playful with an awkward laugh.

his words only made sunoo and y/n look at each other. and with that, it only filled every inch of his body with more jealousy. he was a protective boy, what can he say?

he wanted to pull the girl he liked back into his arms but as much as he wanted to do so, they were still only friends — friends who joked and pushed each other around, not hugged.

so he scoffed once he realized it got quiet after what he said.

“what? our group is already big enough.”

“don’t tell me.. you’re jealous?” y/n replied, brows knitting together in shock.

sunghoon’s face began to blush in red, heart racing at how she suddenly figured him out. “what?? no. you’re stupid for thinking that.” smooth, sunghoon, real smooth.

she scoffed out a laugh as sunoo remained giggling. “you can admit it, i know you’re jealous.” she said with a tinting red starting to hit her cheeks as well.

her heart dropped at the thought that her longtime friend could be just ever so slightly jealous with who she was talking to. with their passing years of friendship, he never really took interest in her love life — or at least that’s what she thought.

the girl would tell him and he’d do his best in hyping her up, but she always secretly wished that he was the one she was excited about (and he did too).

but yet again, they were idiots in love.

“so are you gonna admit it?” she poked.

sunghoon rolled his eyes, jaw clenching with how well his favorite girl was provoking him. “what is there to admit?” he seethed.

sunoo laughed at his reaction. “geez, hyung, you don’t need to get too mad here.”

a scoff came out of the older male. “sunoo, stay out of this.” he murmured with a turned head.

y/n immediately took notice of hoon’s uncomfortable state and felt the need to stop. her light manner of stupid, silly jokes halted as she uttered — “okay let’s move on from this. should we meet with the others?”

“aren’t they in different classes right now?” sunoo asked, also attempting to move on from what just happened.

“well ji-woo’s in psych right now, i think min-su and dae are free, heeseung’s with them, jake’s in philosophy & ethnics, and jungwon’s in microbiology. and jay and niki are in.. forensics i think?”

sunoo and sunghoon looked at her in bewilderment.

“what?”

“do you just know everyone’s schedule or what?” hoon asked, mouth gaping open in shock.

y/n sent a quick smack to his arms. there’s the girl he knew. “i have their schedule in my notes, don’t judge me! i just want to know our available times..,”

her crush grinned, eyes twinkling in delight of how thoughtful she was. “looking at everyone else’s schedule.. you’re such a loser.” he teased, smiling wide at her defended gasp.

she continued to bully him with a mount of insults and hits. sunoo watched it happen, shaking his head at how he suddenly began third wheeling.

“okay, okay, enough! dae and them are near us, let’s go meet them.” he intervened, swatting a hand between the two.

sunghoon’s heart filled with joy as he ruffled her hair. he heard her give a soft grumble, smacking his hand away that only caused him to laugh even more.

the three continued like this until they eventually reached the others.

“you guys got here a little late..,” dae murmured, side eyeing them.

“sorry, we got held back because some guy wanted her number.” sunghoon responded, feeling a hint of jealousy seep through.

min-su and dae immediately bopped their heads up. “oh??” they asked in unison, earning a chuckle from their friend.

“it’s nothing, this cute guy was just sitting next to me the entire lecture and asked for my number at the end.” y/n replied with a shrug to her shoulders.

“girl, nothing???” dae guffawed.

“cute? mm, i’ll have to see about that,” min-su added in.

with that, her boyfriend, heeseung shot his head up. “you want to see another cute guy when your boyfriend’s right here?” he pouted, causing his girl to melt right at the spot.

“no, baby, i just have to make sure he’s good for her!” she quickly defended.

the group giggled at the couples quarrel before sunoo intruded — “his name’s sanha though.”

sunghoon subtly rolled his eyes but it didn’t go unnoticed by heeseung. the older male looked at him in the eyes that spoke — ‘this must be bothering you huh?’ but hoon chose to ignore and act like he didn’t see it.

“hmm.. sanha.. do you have a picture?” dae questioned.

“she just met the guy, why would she have a picture??” the undeniably jealous guy spoke with anger in his throat.

y/n pushed her brows together before agreeing. “yeah i just met him so i don’t have a picture but..,”

“i guess we can’t see if he’s good for you, y/n..,” dae said. “i do know who’d be good for you though.”

the girl tilted her head to the side. “uh.. who?”

her friend wore a cheeky smile, brows slightly raising as he shifted his gaze to sunghoon, who immediately caught on and began to panic.

“yeah, who is this guy..?” hoon blurted, scratching the back of his nape.

“well he’s been jungwon’s friend for a while now and i’d like it if he had the courage to ask you out, but he’s been too fucking shy.”

y/n looked as if she was confused but she wasn’t stupid. she knew dae was talking about sunghoon, she just wanted him to actually admit it.

“who’s the guy? do i know him?” her coy tone was obvious to min-su and dae, and possibly sunoo but not her crush. no, he stayed oblivious but mainly because he was scared.

as dae was about to speak, sunghoon stopped him — “hey is that jungwon?? that’s him, right?” he pointed behind the boy’s back; and lo and behold, it really was him.

hoon’s ass just got saved and all he could do was sigh out in relief.

while jungwon’s boyfriend ran to the man in the distance, y/n exchanged a look with min-su that could only emphasize their telepathy.

heeseung noticed their look since he was alarmingly close to his girlfriend, and because of that, he spurted out soft laughs.

once jungwon came into everyone’s view, the topic was changed.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

after about an hour, jake texted that he was waiting for ji-woo and eventually, they came together, and then jay and niki as well.

“so are we gonna go eat?” niki asked.

“yes please, i’m starving!” y/n beamed, causing sunghoon’s heart to thud in his chest.

“where at?” jake’s voice spoke, scooting himself closer to his girlfriend’s embrace while pushing his glasses up.

“just anywhere,” min-su replied as her fingers clung around heeseung’s hands.

“okay let’s go to ‘anywhere,’ i heard that place is good!” yelled dae. the stupid joke earned a shrieking laugh from jungwon, popping his dimples as he kept hollering — “that was funny, babe.”

the group laughed as well, maybe not as much as won, but just enough.

eventually, they agreed on some fried chicken place and set out to leave. before doing so, the question that min-su just had to pop to y/n caught everyone’s attention — “so are you gonna bring your boyfriend?” sunghoon shot his head up, thick brows furrowing at the joke.

“boyfriend?? you got a boyfriend and we haven’t even met him yet?” jay instigated with a brow raise.

y/n nervously laughed once she felt aware of everyone’s stares. “that’s what we’re calling him now?”

“what the hell did i miss??” ji-woo asked, turning her head to min-su and dae.

as the two teasingly smiled, a low voice suddenly spewed, “he’s not her boyfriend.”

the attention that was once on y/n had now shifted to the voice that was evidently sunghoon’s. the girl he liked cocked a head tilt in confusion with how upset he sounded while the others were silently judging him.

jungwon had the look of — ‘you’re busted,’ and jake had the look of — ‘too obvious bro,’ whereas heeseung spoke with his eyes that said — ‘min-su and i are definitely debriefing about this later.’

the rest of the members also exchanged glances that were somewhere along the lines of jungwon’s and jake’s.

as they all stared at him, sunghoon’s cheeks flushed with a deep color of red. “i was just um.. there to witness it, they’re not together.” he tried to play it off, but ji-woo was obviously not convinced.

“so you just witnessed it? that’s it?” she questioned towards the awkward male who was just nodding.

hating how quick the atmosphere became awkward, y/n broke the ice by saying, “okay okay, that’s enough. i’m hungry, let’s go.”

the tense moment passed and each couple went in their own transportation (as did sunghoon and y/n), allowing jay to drive sunoo and niki.

while hoon drove, y/n controlled the music.

“oh come on, stop putting this song on.” he grumbled.

“what! come on, it’s cute!” she defended, lightly slapping his arm.

the boy sent a scowling look as he replied, “it’s not cute, it’s sad and depressing.”

“hoon, it’s lily of the valley, how can you hate it??”

“it’s not the vibes right now,” he uttered while making a signal turn.

y/n rolled her eyes. she played the song because it was thee song she associated him with. “fine..,” she groaned, fingers typing fast to change the music.

silence filled the air for a second before another slow and steady song played, causing sunghoon to shoot her another look.

“what!”

“this song is still sad, y/n.”

the song that she put on was ‘everything’ by the black skirts — another song she associated him with.

“excuse me, you like sad songs! that’s what we have in common, loser.” the girl fumed while crossing her arms together.

hoon let out a low chuckle that sent goosebumps down her spine. “play something more upbeat, these songs are like something you slow dance to.” exactly.

her heart pounded at his words before grumbling out a low sigh. “fine… but just because you never shut up about this song.”

a click to another song was made and ‘mad’ by neyo began to boom in the car.

sunghoon instantly wore a huge smile. “that’s more like it!” he beamed, glancing over at her to shine that deathly grin.

y/n felt a butterfly tingle in her stomach but ignored it with her random karaoke session with him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

soon, the group found themselves gathered around a table with large mounts of fried chicken and fried goods in the center.

“let’s eat!” yelled one of the boys.

everyone began digging in and enjoying the food in front of them.

the couples sat across from each other, being love sick in watching their partner eat and be full on their tummies.

meanwhile, the single friends were in absolute disgust. every face morphed into horror as niki uttered — “we’re trying to eat here, stop that.”

ji-woo rolled her eyes at him as she squished her favorite boy’s cheeks, causing his glasses to slightly fall to the tip of his nose. jake gave a cheeky grin afterward as he muzzled his head further into her hands.

y/n nudged her. “ew ji-woo, don’t do that.”

“we’re cute, shut up.”

the single girl turned her attention to sunghoon who was also mirroring her facial expression. she cracked a laugh as soon as she saw him side eyeing his close friend.

“alright, just because you guys aren’t together, doesn’t mean that you guys can judge us.” min-su murmured. “but that is disgusting, ji-woo.”

the group erupted into harsh laughs afterwards, allowing a few to choke here and there on their chicken.

the night continued on and everyone soon went back to their light jokes about other things.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

eventually, the gang gathered out of the restaurant and left in their separate ways.

the couples left together of course, and jay took niki and sunoo — giving just sunghoon to take y/n home.

“are you gonna play better music?” he asked while getting in the car.

“um.. sure!” she beamed back.

he let out a soft chuckle before driving off to her address.

once the car ride that was filled with endless talks of past high school memories reached its destination (sorry that was long), sunghoon stopped the car with a soft screech.

“so i’ll see you tomorrow?” the tall male asked with a slight eyebrow raise. he leaned his head closer towards her, causing her heart rate to rapidly increase.

she gulped down her saliva before nodding her head. “yes, i’ll be more ready tomorrow..,” she murmured, voice weakening at the end to highlight her vulnerability.

he chuckled at her empty promise — “yeah you keep telling yourself that, i’ll be here around the same time.” his sparkly eyes trailed down from her lips and back to her eyes.

a nervous gulp was taken as he leaned in just an inch closer, leaving an obvious gap between them. the gap that defined their relationship. the clear boundary that was between friends and lovers.

it only lingered for a second before sunghoon pulled away, not letting any suspicions creep in with his feelings for her.

y/n panicked for a second. she felt the yearn for their lips to connect, but she, too, ignored it with the way he pulled away.

the girl rolled her eyes as she slightly smacked his shoulder. “whatever, bye hoonie!” she tried to break the awkward atmosphere.

his cheeks instantly grew red at the name call. she’s only used it on serious occasions and for her to just randomly call him that throbbed his heart.

“b..bye,” he nervously stuttered, mentally smacking his head afterward.

y/n beamed a smile, waving goodbye as she rushed out to avoid any other tension-filled moment.

soon, hoon drove off once confirming that she entered in safely.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a week had now passed, and their exam for chemistry was coming up.

y/n walked into the class, shoulders slumping down as she was reminded of their test. a pout formed on her face while taking her seat next to sanha.

the boy beamed a sweet smile towards her, catching sunghoon’s attention and causing him to almost break his pencil in half.

“hey y/n.”

her head whipped up to sanha in an instant. “since our exam is coming up, i was wondering if we could have a study session soon?”

“oh.. yeah, sure! when did you want to do it?”

hoon’s ears were colored red with every word that was processing through, but still, he was eager to hear more about the plans.

“how about today? are you free?”

“yeah, i should be after 4.” y/n responded, displaying a half smile towards the cute boy.

“okay, i’ll text you where to meet me at the library.”

she nodded in agreement before turning to the professor’s attention.

sunghoon scoffed like he always did, loud and clear. “study session my ass,” he mumbled under his breath.

sunoo laughed at his reaction as he softly ridiculed the older male. y/n didn’t catch on though, remaining attentive to the lecture; while hoon silently fumed in his seat even more.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when the day was almost coming to an end, y/n found herself already done with the study session.

sanha and her walked out while he apologetically said, “sorry that i’m not able to drop you off, i would but i have to rush home.”

she shook her head at his expression of regret. “don’t be! it’s okay, i’ll find a ride home, a family member will come!” she lied.

he walked away from the scene after uttering out another sorry. in return, she waved goodbye as she huffed out a breath of air.

“i’m alone.. and it’s dark… and i’m on an empty campus.. great!” the girl cursed to herself.

she sighed as she reached for her phone. “my last resort..”

y/n <33:

hoon..

um are you awake…

hoonster :) :

??

It’s 6, of course I’m awake

You need something?

y/n <33:

oh… LMAO

um..

hoonster :) :

???

What happened? Are you okay?

y/n <33:

can you..

pick me up….

hoonster :) :

Yeah I’m on my way

You’re still on campus?

y/n <33:

yeah…

hoonster :) :

Okay I’m coming right now

“that easy?” y/n questioned to herself.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few minutes passed and sunghoon pulled up with his car.

a sigh of relief left her mouth as she rushed to her passenger princess seat.

“thank goodness,” the girl mumbled with a clench to her chest.

“so this date of yours couldn’t even take your home?” hoon asked, giving an unbelievable scoff afterwards.

y/n rolled her eyes as he turned into a lane. “shut up. and it wasn’t a date, we just studied together,” she replied while looking out the window.

“you’re saying it wasn’t a date but i saw how you tried to make it subtle in touching up your makeup.” he paused for a second. contemplating whether he should say it or not, he impulsively spoke, “you looked pretty.”

her head quickly shot up. “what?”

“nothing,” the male swiftly shot back. “you really went out with him though?”

her heart began to burn at his question. “i mean.. it was just a study session, nothing more.” she nervously picked at her fingers, nails scratching at the barrier of skin.

a loud ‘pft’ left sunghoon’s mouth. “yeah that’s how it starts, idiot.” jealousy seethed through his body as he poked his tongue through his cheek.

“sunghoon-“

“can i just tell you something real quick?” he asked, letting the car come to a harsh halt at a semi-empty parking lot.

y/n cocked her head. “sure..?”

hoon avoided eye contact for a second, turning his head away once he felt his cheeks heat up.

“you okay..?” he heard his favorite girl ask.

his throat cleared and he finally locked eye contact with her. “i can’t take it anymore, y/n.”

“take what?”

“i can’t stand seeing you talk to some guy you barely know. i can’t stand it, i hate that you’re talking to him like he’s your boyfriend when you…,” he stopped in a breathless voice.

y/n didn’t say anything, hinting that he should continue — “when you should be doing that with me.”

“hoon-“

“i know we’re friends and i know i probably just made matters worse but i can’t stand it anymore. i want you, y/n.“

sunghoon’s hand firmly gripped onto the steering wheel in fear, heart almost beating out of his chest with how abrupt he was being.

“i’m sorry, i understand that you probably don’t like me back but i-“

his constant ranting was shut up with a soft peck on the lips. immediately, his eyes widened and he choked a little on his saliva with how quick the kiss was.

y/n breathed out a laugh at his reaction, grinning wide as she replied, “i like you too.. loser.”

sunghoon bit his lips in an attempt to hide his smile. he was feeling shy for a second before immediately pulling her back onto his lips. they smashed against each others, causing a satisfied groan to leave his throat.

he was finally kissing the girl he’s been liking since high school and all he could do was groan.

his hands cupped her cheeks as hers laid on his shoulders. his lips continued to firmly press against hers before pulling away.

hoon heavily breathed, eyes closing shut at the weighing relief that lifted off of his shoulders.

“like you.. so, so much.” he whispered in her ear.

y/n giggled, feeling the ticklish breath linger around her. “shut up, i heard you.” she teased.

he cackled a laugh as well before bringing his gaze up to her, letting his eyes stare at her heated face.

the girl quickly noticed and nudged his head away. “stop looking at me with those eyes,” she shamed her own head away before glancing at him again.

“what eyes?” sunghoon questioned, brows teasingly raising with a mischievous grin. his eyes trailed up and down as he stayed in a complete daze.

y/n groaned out a sigh as she pushed him away again. “stop it, hoonie.”

he felt blood rush to his cheeks with every heart throb that was taken. that nickname would now permanently be only for her to use.

“call me that again.”

“what? hoonie?” y/n poked, lips curling into a smile.

the male grinned ear to ear before pulling her into another soft kiss.

a second passed and he pulled away.

“i should take you home but i can’t stop kissing you.” he whispered gently against her skin.

“take me on a real date and then you can kiss me all you want.”

his hands intertwined with hers and brought it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss at the back of it.

“okay i’ll take you on one tomorrow, show you what sanha couldn’t do.”

y/n playfully rolled her eyes — “yeah yeah you do that.”

he kissed her cheek before backing the car out of its parking spot.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

soon, the two arrived to her place late at night, and it was then that sunghoon promised her an actual date for tomorrow.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, gorgeous.”

“gorgeous??” her head bolted at the name, and he only cheekily smiled.

“yeah.. gorgeous.”

“shut up.. good night.” y/n’s cheeks flushed with red as she left the car.

he watched her safely get in and soon drove off with silent giggles and warm heart throbs.

sunghoon and y/n were officially a couple. no more being idiots, and no more being friends.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

#pshcomforts #enhypen #park sunghoon #enha #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen heeseung #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #enhypen sunoo #enhypen scenarios #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x female reader #enha scenarios #enha fluff #enha soft hours #enha sunghoon #enha fanfic #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon #sunghoon fluff

[livingemkayde]

ch v. just you

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter five of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. smut, half porn half plot, unprotected p in v, oral, f!receiving, a little fingering, kinda dom!joel but hes sweet. rough sex and mentions of bruising. some verbal disagreements and fighting. love triangle forming formed. lots of angst, talk of miscommunications. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake).

summary: you confront joel about, well, everything. you talk it out in more ways than one.

a/n: i been waitin for this one. TURN IT UP. i hope you guys like this slow burn reward, im happy with how this chapter came out. enjoy this before all the drama lol. love you all smsmsmsm.

Joel cuts you off, dips his head lower, his tongue dips into your entrance and when you whine and moan he trails higher, tasting you and gently sucking until he reaches your clit. You bite your lip in favor of screaming, and you can barely hear Joel whisper, like he’s in awe— “I knew it,” as he takes another taste of the slick dripping out of your entrance. “I fuckin’ knew it.” “What?” “Knew you’d taste like heaven,” he says with a muffled groan, sinking his tongue back into your aching hole, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that makes you shut your eyes so tight you see stars. 

There are times you wish texting was never invented. 

You like calling people — hearing their voice. The intonations of their words, knowing exactly what they’re thinking. 

But there are other times, you thank the lord for creating the form of communication — because you have no idea what to say to Joel. 

You stare down at your phone. The text’s words float through your mind. Trying to desperately figure out what to say. 

Your thumbs fiddle with each other, you bite your lip as you try and concentrate on a suitable text. Joel’s contact name just stares back at you, unmoving.

You: going to the store on my own, i don’t need your—

You delete that text quickly as you start making a pot of coffee. 

You: i don’t think we should go together—

You delete that one too. 

You run a hand over your forehead, swiping through your phone to get to Tommy’s text.

You slump against your kitchen counter when you realize you don’t know what to say to either Millers. You look out the window, it’s a nice day out, the sun shining through the early morning dew. The spot in front of your house stares back at you. The spot where Tommy was parked in last night. Where he had cut you off after his question, and begged you to consider it. 

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.” 

And when you hadn’t said anything—

“Please?” 

So you nodded, and you’re not sure why, but tears threatened to spill from your eyes, leaving the truck in disarray and falling asleep in much the same manner. 

When you woke up this morning, you hoped it had been a dream — his big brown eyes had never looked that desperate, and you know you fucked up by telling him you’ll think about it — when all you can think about is his brother. 

You stare back at Tommy’s messages and type in your own. 

You: can we talk in person?

You look at the words for a long time, before hitting send. You needed to clear the air as quickly as possible. 

You open Joel’s texts. The last couple ones just revolve around Sarah, pick up times, and what the plans were for dinner.

But the very last one, from last night — looks particularly menacing. Like it might grow wings and fangs and jump out of your phone. 

Joel M: Get home okay?

You sigh, ignoring his text and typing out your own. 

You: i think i’m gonna go shopping on my own soon. be by to drop off the stuff later

Whatever — you think to yourself before hitting send. 

_

You don’t even know what month it is. 

You hadn’t realized the calendars flicked to July, until you walked through the Party City and all the decorations you can find are red, white, and blue. The aisles are crowded, everyone getting last minute party favors and decorations in prep for Monday’s holiday.  

You find the birthday section, rifling through to get streamers, string lights, balloons, and banners. You smile to yourself when you find a small toy horse from that show Sarah likes. 

You put the toy into the basket.

The market is next, you haul ass to get as many two liters of soda you can carry, chips, and different snacks for the party. Tommy had managed to get a decent turn out from his RSVP (which was just a phone call asking if they could come) and you want to make sure there’s enough food for everyone. 

Your name being shouted from down the aisle snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s Janet Baker, one of the moms from Sarah’s soccer camp, she strides towards you pushing a cart full of hot dogs and buns. You distinctly remember seeing her at one of Sarah’s games. The one where Joel and Tommy both showed up, you, slotted to sit between them. 

“Hey, you!” she says, pulling you into an unexpected hug. 

“Oh! Hi, Mrs. Baker,” you reply shyly with a chuckle, her cart is abandoned when she gets a peek into yours. 

“Now, I told you to call me Janet, don’t be makin’ me feel old with all this ‘Mrs’ crap,” she chides, you smile, not really knowing what to say.

“Sorry, Janet,” you say with a chuckle. 

“What are you shoppin’ for missy? Fourth of July party?”

“Oh — uh —” you look down to your cart, “actually, Tommy’s birthday is tomorrow.” 

“...Tommy…?” she says, while looking up towards the sky. 

“Oh my god, sorry — Tommy Miller, Sarah’s uncle?” you say, trying to get it to ring a bell. She thinks for a long time, you’re about to say it’s not important but she cuts you off—

“That’s right! We met at that game last weekend,” she says, nodding her head, remembering the encounter. 

You remember that game. It was before all of these new — situations — with Joel. 

Sarah had come up to the three of you before the game started, a friend in tow. You were introduced to one of Sarah’s close accomplices, Katie. 

“Are you Mrs. Miller?” Katie had said, looking between you and Joel hesitantly. Your cheeks felt hot.

Joel stifled an awkward laugh beside you. Tommy was quiet.

“Oh, no, kiddo — ’M just Sarah’s nanny.” 

Tommy was silent the rest of the game. You don’t remember much after that. 

But you remember Janet, giving you a couple friendly smiles, when you introduced her to Tommy after the game had ended. The same smile she gives back to you right now.

“Yeah, just getting some decorations and food,” you say, pointing down towards your cart. 

“Well, aren’t you a sweet thing for throwin’ him a party.”

“I appreciate that, Janet. Why don’t you and your daughter come tomorrow, she can play with Sarah?”

“Oh, how nice of you to invite us. I sure hope Tommy’s okay with it,” she laughs. 

“He will be,” you say back, trying to match her enthused demeanor. Her bright eyes and almost obnoxious laugh make you chuckle to yourself a bit. 

She’s suddenly close to you, dipping into your personal space to whisper slyly so that no one else can hear her ask—

“Y’all aren’t datin’, right?” 

Your eyes widen. This woman’s timing is fucking impeccable, you’ll give her that. 

“No! Oh no, no, I’m just — I’m Sarah’s—” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Sarah’s babysitter. But between you and me, sweetie —” she leans even lower, her hand coming to the side of her mouth like she’s telling you a secret. “ — even though you’re Sarah’s babysitter, all us moms think you look mighty nice next to Joel.” 

You don’t even know what to say, Janet’s eyebrow sticking up like she’s hinting at something. Jesus, it’s like she’s had a private viewing of your life this past week and she’s taking the footage and taunting you with it. 

“M-me? With…?”

“Joel. Yes, doll—” she says, like now it’s her turn to get you to remember one of the Miller brothers, “—we see the way he looks at you.” 

“No — I think you might be mistaken, Janet—”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll see it soon too.”

_

Joel’s door stares back at you. 

You have all the bags in your hands, the plastic of the handle turns your fingertips white from the pressure of the two liters pulling it down, but you can’t bring yourself to knock. 

Not until you hear some movement from inside — not wanting him to catch you waiting outside his door like a creep. You kick the door a little with your shoe in place of freeing a hand to knock. 

Joel opens the door, his eyes widening at your state. 

“Jesus, what are you—” he cuts himself off with his movements, bending down to take the bags from your hands, though you protest. 

“I got it, Joel, just—” 

He takes the bags from you anyways. 

“Should’ve called me,” he mumbles while turning towards the kitchen counter, leaving you in the doorway sans the six bags you struggled to pick up all on your own. 

“Sorry. I —” 

You don’t really know what you’re apologizing for. 

“Thanks,” you say when he puts the bags on the table and begins to unpack them. You move to help him, opening up the fridge for some of the food. 

“What’s this?” he says, pulling out the toy horse for Sarah. 

“Oh. It's for Sarah. ‘S the horse from that show she likes.” 

He stares at you for a long time, before looking down towards the toy in his hand. 

“You got this for her?” 

“Yeah,” you say, confused as to why he seems surprised you got her a toy. 

“She’ll like that. Thanks,” he says, setting the toy on the dinner table and rifling through more stuff until it’s just decorations left in the bags.

“She’s at her sleepover?” you ask, looking around the living room at any signs of life. 

“Mhm,” Joel replies from the kitchen.

You wait in silence for a while, unsure of how to proceed. Normally you would probably just ask him if he wants to set up some decorations but this is far from normal. 

“You wanted to go without me?” he asks, when you stop walking around and stand in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want it to get too late, since Sarah was here…sorry” you say. You try to keep the hurt out of your voice. 

“‘S fine, I…wanted to—” he shakes his head, organizing his thoughts before changing the subject. It sort of surprises you — but it seems like this has been on his mind all day. “You didn’t answer my text. Had to call Tommy last night.” 

“Oh.” 

Shit. 

He sounds so fucking worried it almost makes you sick. 

“‘M sorry. It was a—long night.” 

“You got back okay? No issues?” 

Yeah. No fucking issues except your brother asked me out. 

You think you should say something. Not like Joel has the right to know, but it’s the right thing to do in your eyes regardless. 

“Did Tommy tell you…?”

“Did Tommy tell me what?”

Fuck. 

“He—uh—um,” his eyebrow lifts at your words, you can barely get the sentence out, your pulse thrumming with each second you stall with stuttering. 

“He asked me out. Last night.” 

Joel looks at you. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen that look in his eye. Like he’s the embodiment of disappointment. Like he doesn’t know what to do with his face, let alone his hands, his body. 

The warm sunlight peeking in through the window starts making you sweat the longer he stands looking at you. When he finally speaks you can barely hear him — the drawl you love so much, quiet and blanketed under an emotion you can’t place. 

“Tommy?” 

“Yeah.” 

He nods like he’s trying to collect his thoughts. Though, it only makes you more scared from the uncertainty of his words and actions. But surprisingly he doesn’t act out at all, he just gives you an emotionless face and words that seem harmless, but cut through your skin. 

“Oh. Happy f’you two.” 

“No—I—” 

“Nah—’s…’s good.” 

“Stop, Joel—” 

He stops. But you’re not entirely sure he’s listening very clearly. 

“I didn’t say yes. He told me to…think about it.” 

“And?”

“And I wanted to talk to you.” 

“About?”

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, exasperated. Your hand comes up to your forehead. “About last night? About…?” 

Everything. You want to say. But fall short. 

“What about last night?”

God, was this all in your head? It certainly didn’t feel like that at the bar. Nor on the front porch when he almost kissed you, or on the phone that same fatal night. 

“Joel,” you plead with him, your voice breaking a bit. He breaks your eye contact when you say his name, almost like it hurts him to hear you say it. This game you two are playing right now is fucking ridiculous, an old tired version of the one from last night, in front of the bar. 

“There’s nothing to talk—” 

“Don’t do that. You can’t just fucking—” you almost laugh. 

Who the hell is this guy in front of you? You continue, even through your ragged breaths and tears that now stain your cheeks.

“You can’t. Don’t—”

“He’s my brother.”

“So? I knew you before any of this—” 

“He’s my brother.” 

His loud voice cuts off any thoughts you had forming. You wait for a while, trying to understand what he means by that — maybe this is some petty competition they have going and Joel feels like he’s losing. You don’t know what to think of their dynamic anymore.

“I can’t just ignore it,” you say. You hate how your voice sounds so small. “I didn’t want it like this,” you say, more tears falling, you try to wipe them away quickly, embarrassed to cry in front of him.

“You think I do?” his rhetorical question lingers in the air when you don’t respond. “That fuckin’ day you met Tommy, he—” Joel can’t even look at you anymore. 

“He asked me if I — liked you — or whatever, ‘n I said no. You and I were done. We had just decided it was over.” 

“So you’re just gonna throw this away because he called dibs?”

“I ain’t throwin’ anythin’ away—” he shakes his head. “I don’t wanna throw this away.”

“Right. Like last night?” 

“So this is about Caroline? I told you that I don’t like her — it was a fuckin’ set up.”

“This is not about Caroline,” you could almost laugh. 

He gives you a knowing look. You both know this is definitely not about Caroline.

“‘M sorry. About last night, ‘bout everythin’, but you left,” Joel says, “You wanted to leave. I—I wasn’t gonna stop you.” 

“I thought you were gonna come with me.”

That shuts him up. He looks at you with a slack jaw, like he was going to say something already braced on his tongue but at your response, he became speechless. Like your sentence smacked the words out of his own mouth. 

“I wanted you to come with me,” you say, softer this time. “And then you—fucking—left me and got Tommy.” 

“Tommy was—”

“I didn’t want Tommy. I don’t want Tommy.” you say, your voice breaking more with each confession. “But you wanted to hand me off to him—”

“C’mon. ‘F course that’s not what I wanted. You know that.”

“Then what? Because this isn’t a game to me, Joel.”

“‘S not a game,” he forces out, like he’s tired of playing too. “It was never a game.”

You stay silent, taken back by his words. You can tell his head is spinning, not really sure of what to say or rather, how to articulate his feelings. 

“This is — you’re fucking…Jesus, I don’t know,” he starts, but begins to pace around the room, unable to finish. 

You stay silent, watching him walk around slowly until he’s rooted right in front of you, closer than before. 

“‘S a mess. Tommy is — you’re gonna break his heart because this is —”

You raise your eyebrows, pleading with him to continue, to finally say what he’s been thinking about since you two met at the bar. 

“This is real. You’re real.”

Your heartbeat bangs in your ears, he’s closer than before. You don’t remember when he got so close. Close enough that when he talks after an unbearable silence, you can feel his breath on your nose. 

“But you don’t know. You don’t see — any of it.”

“I see you, I —” you can’t get much out because your breath hitches. Big brown eyes stare back into yours. “Help me — show me,” you hiccup out while his hot breath catches your eyelashes. 

His hand reaches down, like last night, pulling you closer, this time, you let him. His fingers sprawl out across your cheeks, feeling your neck, his big brown eyes pulling you in. He's a bit more breathless than you if that’s even possible. You keep blinking like you’re scared it might be a dream. 

You look up at him. For the first time in a while your gaze isn’t cut short by wandering eyes or loud interrupting voices. 

He dips down, his lips just barely touching yours, letting you make the final move towards him, kissing him, tasting him. It might be silly, but you remember his taste from all the weeks before. It feels like yesterday when he moans a bit in your mouth, and your hands fly to his chest to steady your shaky knees. 

He breaks away first, you’re both panting into each other, like you’ve just surfaced from being underwater for so long — maybe you have been. 

But he doesn’t say anything, only takes your hand in his and with a couple panting sighs, pulls you towards the stairs, towards his bedroom. He looks at you with a silent question etched on his face. 

You nod before you know what’s happening, and he’s whisking you off into his room. You’ve never been in his room before, upstairs, sure, to help Sarah with things. But his room was unspokenly off limits. It smells like him, and as the tears reside and the genuine want rushes over you, it seems like he’s one step ahead of you, closing the door, and guiding you back towards the bed. 

He’s kissing you, it’s sloppy but calculated at the same time. So much pent up frustrations and wandering eyes seemed to break at the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands running up and down your body. 

You’re moaning and whimpering into his mouth, almost desperate despite always trying to remain stoic. But who are you kidding, it’s Joel. 

“Please,” you bite when his mouth trails kisses down your neck and even more so when he slips your top off, catching your nipple in his hot mouth. 

“Joel,” you whine again, when all he does is hum against your sensitive bud. 

“Baby,” he says, and you notice the drawl is back. Like it never left, rich and honeyed — matching what you imagine every night before bed — hell — every waking moment. 

You’re naked before you muster the brain power to notice him taking your clothes off. He doesn’t bother with his clothes, almost like he’s too eager to see you, forgetting about himself. You claw at his flannel but he pushes your hands back and over your head, rending your arms useless. 

His other hand reaches down, finding your aching cunt dripping onto the gray bed sheets and he genuinely groans at the feeling. Brooding Joel Miller reduced to a moaning mess at the feeling of you wet and hot for him. The thought drives you up the walls a bit. 

“Fuckin’ wet, so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart,” he grumbles more to himself than to you. 

He runs his fingers over your outer lips while mouthing at your neck — you whimper and squirm under his grasp but his hand just holds yours harder. It might — no, it definitely will leave bruises on your wrists the next morning, but you could care less. The biting pain of it shoots right down to that white hot burn in your lower stomach. 

“Quit movin’,” he says while beginning to trail down, almost like a warning for when he releases your wrists and settles in between your legs. He pants hot breath onto your swollen folds and despite his warning, you squirm underneath him. Joel seems a bit too desperate to tell you to stop or punish you otherwise. 

When his lips place a hesitant kiss to your clit you almost scream, forcing his head in between your thighs and when he stops, you realize you might be squeezing him too tight. You sit up a bit, releasing your thighs when he stops and looks up at you. 

“‘M sorry — shit — I — no one’s ever…I’m sorry, Joel—” 

“‘M fine, lay back down.”

You do lay back down, but you're hesitant. 

“No one ever do this to you, baby?” he asks, smiling up at you from between your legs, your face feels hot and you hide a shy smile. He mouths at your thighs and places a few gentle kisses to your folds. 

“No, I — I guess not.” 

“It feel good?”

“Good? Joel it feels fucking—” 

Joel cuts you off, dips his head lower, his tongue dips into your entrance and when you whine and moan he trails higher, tasting you and gently sucking until he reaches your clit. You bite your lip in favor of screaming, and you can barely hear Joel whisper, like he’s in awe—

“I knew it,” as he takes another taste of the slick dripping out of your entrance. “I fuckin’ knew it.”

“What?”

“Knew you’d taste like heaven,” he says with a muffled groan, sinking his tongue back into your aching hole, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that makes you shut your eyes so tight you see stars. 

His mouth feels like a shot. Your grip in his hair, more like the chaser, grounding you back to the bed, his bed. In his room. The bite of him seeping through every corner of your body, his flat tongue pulling your fast approaching orgasm out of you so quickly you forget your name. 

“Joel, I—” 

You shut up because you think he knows, his hum against you sending vibrations through your clit, his wide palms coming up to grasp at your thighs until the spasms from your orgasm cease. 

He keeps going even after you come down from your high, mouthing at your entrance which seems to get even wetter after you come. He snakes back up to kiss you, you moan into his mouth at the taste of your own slick all over his lips. 

The feeling of his clothed length pressed into your all too sensitive cunt makes the wanting need spark back up, like he’s blowing hot air onto a fire starter, and it just ignited. 

“Need you,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, his hands coming to grab your breasts, he’s everywhere, and you need more. And you need it now. 

He pulls back at your words, a darker look on his face. You remember this look from the bathroom, when he asked you to beg for his cock, his name, and to cum inside your hot cunt. 

“I — I don’t think I can be gentle, baby — I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“Please, want it rough,” you tell him, looking back into his brown eyes, almost pleading. 

I just need you.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he says with your final words, your permission. Joel suddenly hauls you up towards the head of the bed so you’re resting against his pillows. He shucks off his flannel and t-shirt, undoing the belt buckle of his pants in such a timely manner, if you weren’t watching him intently you might’ve missed it. 

He’s kissing you, rubbing his cock through the slick of your folds, you remember the punch of his girth and how the length of his cock almost kissed your cervix, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be prepared for that feeling, especially now, when you’re pent up, and tense and you just need him. 

“God, feel fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he says, running the tip of his cock through your folds, when it hits your clit you buck up against him, but he falters. 

“Easy.”

His voice, his drawl, a bit darker, but you’re not scared. Like he said before, he can’t go easy, he can’t be gentle. You don’t want him to, anyway. 

But what surprises you is when the tip of his cock comes to fit snug against your entrance, he falters. Almost like he’s asking the final permission, in a dark drawl that might almost sound whiny if he wasn’t so brooding—

“Can I? Please?”

“Yes. Joel, yes, please — ngh —” he cuts you off, sinking into your heat with a tight thrust, you’re surprised at the stretch of his length, it’s like he barely fits. 

“What…Jesus — you —?” 

“Didn’t touch myself much,” you admit, knowing what he’s saying; How are you so fucking tight? 

“Was trying not to think — ngh — about you.” 

Your face feels a bit hot when you remember your phone call half a week ago. It was one of the first times following the night at the bar you touched yourself, and there was definitely no time to see anyone in the last couple weeks. 

Joel can evidently feel that too, groaning when he sinks in to the hilt, his breath punching somewhere near your ear, his hand bruising your waist with the force that he grips you with. 

“You gotta relax, baby, I —” 

“Please just — move, Joel,” he laughs a bit at your neediness, but it’s cut off with a groan as he moves, retreating a fraction of an inch before pushing back in, rending your breathless, boneless. 

He picks up his pace when you start to relax around him, mold to him, like he’s the only one who will ever fit inside you. His groans and grunts are no match to mask your whimpers, his praises ring through your head, you feel weightless. 

“Fuckin’ perfect, angel,” he groans, you claw at his back, probably leaving scratch marks but you’re too fucked out to care. “Just like I remembered.”

It feels like old times. Before all this mess, before the incident in the car, on the porch, outside the bar. Before Tommy, or Caroline, or Janet fucking Baker. Before everything. Before all the laters and everything unsaid. Like old times. Like he’s saying Hi for the first time and not Goodbye like he has been for the last week. 

His grip on your waist tightens if possible — so much for wearing a bikini tomorrow at the party. The bite of his fingers almost snap you out of it, but he feels so good, teetering you right on the edge of painful as he spears into you with no remorse. It’s like he can’t help himself, and he probably can’t considering all the blue balls over the last few weeks. 

For some reason that spurs you on further, your orgasm quickly approaches with each stab of his fingertips digging into you, his hot breath near your face, and the feeling of coarse hair nudging at your clit just right. 

“J-Joel,” you moan, but you don’t think you have to tell him you’re close. You know he can feel it. 

“Missed you so much – fuck, baby,” he groans, placing hot kisses on your neck, “Needed you. Needed this.” 

“Joel—” it’s already braced on your lips, you both know it. An unspoken ritual that feels way too possessive for either of your own good — but you say it anyways and he groans all the same. 

“Can I cum? Joel, please?” 

You don’t really hear much aside from his small yes and your vision blinks white as you moan out long and deep into his ear. He fucks you through it, grunting out praises when he feels you get impossibly tight around him. 

It might even be too much but you don’t care. 

You wait for him, your aftershocks sending him closer to his own release as his hips stutter and he gets out one last demand that sends him over the edge. 

“Say it’s me — sweetheart. Please,” he groans, almost begging. Like it’s the last thing that will push him towards bliss. 

“‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you,” you comply and feel him groan and shudder when his orgasm rolls through him. You can feel the hot stickiness of it roll through you, and he holds himself up to whisper one last thing to you before you both slump onto the bed and fall asleep. 

“Tell him no. Tell him — just — just be with me.” 

You nod, panting, he finally falls into the crook of your neck and you welcome it graciously, pulling at his curls until you fall asleep. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

_

chapter vi. bruises

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

@sofiparallel @akah565 @going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @defnotashifter @missgurrl @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @violinchick @rhoorl @yoongjennie88

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#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller self insert #the last of us #joel fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal as joel miller #joel miller smut #smut #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #dom!joel #dom!joel miller #tommy miller #chaser

[nobody-nexus]

Ragapom HCs I Have

(WARNING: There's a LOT of headcanons)

-Transfem Lesbian Pomni (Is On The Spectrum)

-Cisgender Bisexual Ragatha (Has ADHD)

-Pomni has a cat tail (This is to give other hcs context)

-Pomni loves hearing Ragatha play the cello

-Ragatha will always ask if it's okay if she can touch Pomni or not, but if they're in immediate danger there's no time to ask (she will ask if Pomni's okay and apologize AFTER the danger has passed)

-Pomni learned how to sew just to help out Ragatha (She's not great at it, but it's better than nothing)

-They both learned each other's favorite smells and they've asked for candles of that scent just to sit in their rooms and take it in

-Pomni's not the BIGGEST fan of her body but Ragatha makes sure she feels valid (if you misgender her, you die. There's no getting pass it)

-Ragatha hides her love of horses because she's embarrassed by it, but Pomni actually really like animals

-Pomni makes various animal noises when expressing emotions, mainly cat or even dog like noises- and Ragatha's memorized all of them

-Blanket cuddles ALL THE TIME- even if Pomni's okay with touch. Ragatha being one giant comforter for Pomni always makes her SO HAPPY

-Pomni has bells on her tail, which although was Caine's idea, it DID make it easier for Ragatha to know if Pomni's sneaking away for a late-night snack or not

-Pomni has a BIG love for dresses. Ragatha once made a dress for Pomni, who wears it every time they go on a date

-Jax was the first to find out about them dating by barging into their room while they were making out. Caine was the last to find out, but still thinks they're "gal pals"

-Whenever Ragatha's having a bad day, Pomni just likes to talk. Since she's not always up for physical comfort, she knows her voice soothes Ragatha

-Pomni swears a lot whilst Ragatha hardly does so

-Ragatha makes Pomni flustered CONSTANTLY, and she never even means to

-Pomni's stamina is nonexistent while Ragatha can run for hours without realizing it

-Ragatha can pick up Pomni like she's nothing

-Pomni is awful at coming up with cute nicknames for Ragatha, but Ragatha has a bunch. Her favorite one is 'sweetheart' for Pomni

-If the jester's feeling very protective, she'll bite Ragatha to show bite marks, showing that no one touches Ragatha but her (And the doll's beyond embarrassed about it)

-Pomni's flirting sucks, but Ragatha's reaction is THE most 30s thing you could imagine. Hands on sides of face, shaking her head a little, "Oh Pomni, QUIT IT! You're gonna make me blush!", blushing hard, giggling along the way

-If Pomni gets flustered enough, she gets a nosebleed like a cartoon character! Her blood is black in color

-Ragatha lets Pomni help in the kitchen by grabbing ingredients for her. That's about it

-Ragatha was shocked hearing Pomni talk in Spanish and Russian for the first times (AN: YES, I still think Pomni's Russian and Hispanic)

-When they kiss, it's VERY obvious. Ragatha wears red lipstick, and it gets all over Pomni's face, making her all red and flustered, but she loves it every time it happens

-No one has told Pomni her eyes turn into hearts when she's infatuated yet. Not even Jax (Mainly cause Ragatha won't ALLOW him to do so)

-Pomni thinks Ragatha looks hot holding knives.... Ragatha's a little bit of a klutz with knives in reality

-Unlike Ragatha, Pomni actually likes bugs. She usually handles centipedes if any are around

-Ragatha has a big sweet tooth which is why she bakes. Although it has lead to Ragatha accidentally getting high because Zooble made pot brownies... Multiple times

-Pomni is easy to anger whilst Ragatha has a long fuse, but can be easily bothered

-If Pomni gets too stressed out, her teeth get shark like. She can crush a damn BONE with them, and Ragatha helps out with those said bones (don't ask where she gets them from)

-Pomni likes playing horror games whilst Ragatha likes calmer games

-Ragatha loves FNaF and will ramble about it to Pomni

-Pomni likes to draw! Ragatha loves ALL the drawings she does

-They watch Disney movies in bed together :D

-Most of their dates get ruined because of Jax or Caine (Sometimes Bubble)

-Ragatha gets oddly competitive in multiplayer games, thus why they don't play many multiplayer games together

-Slow dancing is Ragatha's favorite romantic thing to do with Pomni

-They usually kiss when both are laying down because the height difference hurts Ragathas back hurt when they kiss whilst standing

-Pomni HATES being wet with her clothes on. Pomni has to be carried by the scruff of her outfit like a cat because she just COMPLETELY shuts down due to overstimulation of the wet clothes against her skin

-Ragatha hates her hands, but Pomni finds them interesting, and she likes to watch Ragatha use her hands for various things JUST to see how they work

-Caine almost gave them a child by overhearing something they said wrong, but thankfully the two were quick enough to stop him

WOW that's a LOT of hcs. And maybe I have more. Hope you like them!

#the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #the digital circus #digital circus #tadc #pomni #ragatha #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #pomni tadc #ragatha tadc #pomni x ragatha #ragatha x pomni #buttonblossom #jesterdoll #ragapom #digital yuri #doomed yuri #digital doomed yuri #headcannons #headcanon #my headcanons #ship headcanons

[carolmunson]

a thousand times a day | rockstar!eddie

fall frenzy req by @saltystormyx: 'I'd like to request a mini-fic with your rockstar!eddie au character. I'll leave it totally open to whatever you want to write.'

fall frenzy set list

back in action with a couple we haven't hung out with in a while! it was nice to get to revisit these two in some way. i had a different story for them to start -- something dirty and slutty -- but i just couldn't get into it. i needed something cozy for them. perhaps now that the seal is broken we can venture into some more slutty stuff between these two at some point. welcome to an early thanksgiving with the munsons before they were married.

tw: 18+, mostly very fluffy, some references to drug abuse, some references to using/addiction/getting clean. otherwise, two hotties in love. reader isn't referred to as 'stella' in this fic but the last name 'rink' is used a couple times to refer to reader and her family.

November, 1992

"I just, ugh honey I feel so awful to cancel on them." You blow your nose into a tissue but also direclty into the phone, making Eddie pull the receiver away from his ear for a second. You called in hysterics from a shoot in New York that you have to do pick up shots in Georgia and the earliest flight back they can manage is on Thanksgiving; leaving your plans to go back upstate to celebrate with your family in the dust. The flights had been paid for, even Wayne was making the trip to Syracuse to celebrate with you and yours. It was finally going to feel normal now that Eddie was three months clean and things had settled down some. He wasn't touring and they were only in the early stages of writing a new album and even then, the band spent most of their nights in the home studio instead of going into the city. Every now and again he'd come upstairs to grab more Pellegrino's out of the fridge and give you kisses on the cheek while you went over potential scripts.

Depsite having moved back at the beginning of November and back to falling asleep tied up with each other, you hadn't put your ring back on yet. It sat resting on your jewelry stand in your dressing room, as shiny and perfect as ever. Your bare ring finger sat as a reminder to him that he's not there yet; that he still has so much to prove -- but he meant what he said. You were gonna be his wife one day.

"Baby, it's okay. They're gonna understand," he assures softly, "It's not like you're doing it on purpose; they know you can't just not go." "It's just s-so stupid. An-an-and it's the first -- fuck, Ed it's the first one without Dad and I just feel so bad for my mom having to look at two empty seats and I don't know, babe. Like, I just feel like I'm r-ruining everything," you choke on your words, fully blubbering into the phone, make up smearing down your cheeks onto the hotel pillows you're leaning against. "You're not ruining anything sweetheart," his voice soft but firm, "You want me to get on a flight to you? I'll go right now."

"N-no it's okay," you sniffle, "I'm meeting up with Simone and getting dinner and we're gonna red-eye back home so we can get ready for Atlanta."

"Oh, so I get to see you tomorrow morning?" he grins, feeling selfish almost at how much he loves hearing your time away from him is cut so short.

"Yeah," you sniffle again, his heart pangs, "Probably really early."

"I'll have breakfast ready for you, okay? What do you want?"

"Um," you shrug to no one, "I don't know. Waffles." "Okay," he smiles, "Waffles it is."

The call home was less sweet; your mom understood but you could hear the dull ache in her voice. The subtle sadness mom's have in their register that they try to mask with an airy laugh -- years of feigning their own disappointement from life barely lived. She knows you're busy and she understands, she tells you a million times. You hear it but you don't feel it; you know she'd rather you blow it all off to come home again and see your family.

You'd rather blow it all off to see your family. Eddie had only seen your childhood home once -- quaint in size, snickered when he saw that you grew up with two guest rooms. He knew you grew up with it made, but you never made it so clear. You had walked through the trailer park to visit his old stomping grounds like you knew was growing up poor was like. Maybe you were a good actress after all.

He had waffles ready when you got in at five in the morning, who knows when he woke up to start. The Belgian Waffle maker you got sent as a wrap gift two years ago was finally out of the plastic, box still on the kitchen floor. Batter dripped down the sides and next to it a serving plate of a small mountain of waffles.

The pink stains on his fingers give a hint to who sliced all the strawberries and other fruit. Separated and glistening in the crystal bowls you really only take out for special oocasions.

Three cans of whipped cream sat at the end of the counter, one already opened with a small peak puffing out. 'Ya gotta try the product first, it's the whipped cream tax'

He's so silly. You missed his silly.

You're not home for very long, a couple days before you start packing for Georgia and you spend it all in his arms. Meals together, sitting on his lap in the studio while he tries out new melodies, you even spent one night curled up in the living room to watch a pay per view fight of Harrington's. Their friendship was finally starting to heal up after Eddie's last relapse.

He pouts when you get ready to leave, shrugging your coat on after you put the cordless phone down to confirm your car. You pout back at him.

"Don't give me that face, you're making me feel worse," you frown.

"M'just gonna miss you," he says quietly, "It's lonely here when you're not around."

"I know," you nod up at him. You don't mean for the comment to sting, but it does a little. It's not like he didn't want to be there with you this past year.

He leans down to kiss you, both hands reaching up to cup your cheeks.

"Don't be sad," he mumbles, nuzzling his nose against yours, "We'll have a nice Thanksgiving together when you get back, just us." "What about Wayne?" you ask, heart panging at the though of his Uncle eating alone. "Don't worry about it, sweet thing," he lets his lips linger against yours again for just a moment, "Wayne'll be okay."

The flight had never been more turbulent. Atlanta had never felt more cold.

You hear the phone ring and ring for the second time only to get the tin-like sound of your mothers voice again, 'Thanks for calling the Rink's! We aren't able to come to the phone right now; but please leave your name and number and we'll call you back. If you're trying to reach Stella Rink, please contact her publicist at Starmade PR Corp.'

"Hi, it's me -- again," you say into the receiver, "I'm sure you guys are busy cooking or have the game on but um, I just wanted to say happy Thanksgiving guys...God, come on, I know you're there. Just pick up!"

Your voice wavers, "I'm sorry I couldn't make it I just --" "NOW BOARDING FIRST CLASS - FLIGHT 7995 TO LOS ANGELES."

You feel a slight pull on your arm from Simone, sighing while you hang up the pay phone to make it to check in.

"They hate me," you mumble. "They don't hate you, Rink," she assures, hand soothingly skating up and down your back, "They know what your life is like." The flight is long and you sleep during most of it, the sad pit in your chest spreading through heavy in your body. You couldn't wait to just be home and eat take out on the couch with your man; have him whisper sweet nothings of reassurance while you pout in the glow of the TV.

Rain pours in California, which is not common but of course happening on the day you feel so awful. You hope that they at least called the house; that Eddie had messages to relay to you; anything so that the guilt didn't eat you alive.

You make it home faster than usual; everyone home with their families leaves less people on the road. You tip the driver triple the fare after he helps bring your bags to the door -- holiday cheer already flowing in your veins.

To your surprise, Eddie opens the door as you go to unlock it, his smile evident on his face. He's dressed cozily, black on black Corroded Coffin sweat shirt and matching pants, socks scrunch down on his ankles -- tattoos covered outside from what peek out at the wrists.

"Happy Thanksgiving, baby," he grins. He takes your bags, putting them to the side in the lobby while you kick your shoes off at the door. He pulls you in to a tight hug to his chest and even through the laundry detergent you can smell the food from all the way out here. Aromatics, butter, garlic, rolls, turkey -- it smells like comfort, it smells like home.

"Did you cook?" you ask with hopeful surprise, "You made like, a whole thing?"

"I did the dinner rolls and I bought all the food; but I'm kind of shit at that home cooking stuff so I called in some reinforcements," his laugh is grizzly with smoked cigarette gruffness.

"Come on," he ushers you forward, taking your hand while you walk through the entry way and down the hall towards the kitchen. His hand is warm and worn, still slightly clammy while the nervous teenager in him still stumbles over dealing with you. Being with you. Loving you.

The kitchen is busy, people bustling and moving and at first you think he must've just hired a team but then a flash of your mom's red Thanksgiving apron catches your eye. Your neice's giggle rings through the echoey walls. Your sister Luna sits at the breakfast nook with your nephew to keep him out of the way, helping him with a coloring book from deep in your stash downstairs.

"Wait, what?" you ask outloud. Your mom looks up, a smile in her eyes when she sees you. "Happy Thanksgiving, honey!" she smiles big, both of your sisters getting up and following her while they flock to you, a group hug of Rinks in the entry way of the kitchen. You heart swells in your chest while you feel them surround you, smell the familiar fragrance of your mom's perfume; your sister's shampoo. It had been so long, too long.

"What're you guys doing here?" you ask, tears welling up in your eyes while the emotion takes you over. You try to sniffle back the tingle in your nose while a cry comes on. "Well, Ed called us when you left for Atlanta and asked if we wanted to all come here," your mom answers, "He got all our flights and everything."

You look over your mom's head to see Eddie leaning up against the fridge, wiping his own tear away off his cheek to see you so happy.

"You were so sad, angel," he shrugs, "I didn't want your holiday to feel so lonely. So y'know -- I got everyone here for you instead. Can't have my baby sad on Thanksgiving."

Your lower lip wobbles when you look at him, his soft gaze while your sister's go back to their previous tasks, "Let me help you bring your bags up."

When he says help he means he takes them all in one trip, you take note that all the guest rooms have been set up. Your family already unpacked and lived in like they've been here a day or two. By the looks of their suitcases they'll be here through the weekend. Your heart swells again. "Where's Wayne?" you ask quietly while you make it into your room. He pops your bags by the entry way of the dressing room to unpack for you later, coming up close to you to press a kiss to your cheek. "He's out back smoking the Turkey and listening to Alice's Restaurant on a loop," he chuckles, "He just drinks beer and hangs out -- definitely has a little crush on your mom though."

"Oh my god," you giggle back, "Well she's very pretty, I get it." "He's got a real soft spot for your neice and nephew," he nods, running a hand over the top of your head, "He's gonna be such a great grandpa."

"I bet he is," you bite your lip for a moment, thinking about a future where that's true. Where you have rockstar Eddie Munson's babies. You wish you could report all of this to the papers instead of whatever shit they put in the tabloid rags about him. HANDSOME ROCKSTAR FIANCE SAVES THANKSGIVING FOR AMERICA'S SWEETHEART!

People would read that, right? You'd read that.

"Was it a good surprise?" he asks, "It wasn't too much to spring on you I was nervous th--" "This is perfect," you nod, "It's so perfect, honey. You're perfect." "You're perfect," he counters, arms wrapping tight around you to give you a tight squeeze, "Why don't you get yourself together and I'll meet you downstairs. I gotta set things up in the dining room, things'll be ready to plate soon."

"Okay," you nod, pulling your airport best off over your head while you watch him disappear back into the house.

Dinner was one to remember. You hadn't felt the true familial magic of the holiday since you were a kid and suddenly it had flown back with a veangance.

In true Rink fashion, the after dinner digestif of Irish Coffee followed you all down to the inhome theater to watch Miracle on 34th street; the little ones and Eddie nursing hot cocoa with way too many marshmallows pouring over the tops of the mugs. "I don't have to have one," you assured him, squeezing him arm gently while you looked at the cup in front of you. "Don't worry about me," his voice calm and confident, knowing he was only going to make it half way through the movie before falling asleep anyway. Most of your family did except you and Wayne who was surprised to find out he was making his way to California instead of upstate New York.

"Couldn't find my good winter boots so it turned out for the best, I guess."

Your sleepy family finally roused, your older sister getting the kids set up in their own room downstairs before she made her way up to her room. Luna and your mom following suit upstairs, Wayne following soon after.

You and Eddie clean up the small theater and head to the kitchen to assess the damage of what needs to be done. Eddie gave house keeping the weekend off to spend with their families; so for the first time in a while dishes like this were all on the two of you.

Thank god for dishwashers and a good Bing Crosby Christmas record -- you're able to clean up the kitchen in no time; stealing kisses in between songs, getting lost in a dance or two.

When you get upstairs to your room you're both exhausted; but not so tired that your eye don't linger when he starts to undress. You know you don't have the energy for the night cap he'd like but it's nice to watch him; the dip of his waist, the way his shoulder blades move under his skin on his back. "Still hungry, Rink?" he winks; heat flames your cheeks.

"No, no, I'm just -- y'know," you shrug innocently, "You look good, baby."

"Thank you," he hums while he changes into a pair of boxers for bed. You make your way into your dressing room and slip into a little night gown for the hell of it, silk and lace so he has something nice to wake up to -- something to show how grateful you are for putting this together.

When you crawl into bed next to him in the still of the night, one arm wraps around you instinctively. Heaviness dips into your eyes at the touch, it's always so hard to sleep without him there. Your hand smooths over his chest when he feels it; the drag of metal across his skin. His hand comes up to take yours and his thumb reaches up to search for it; breath catching in his chest when he can confirm it.

You put your ring back on.

"Really?" he whispers into the dark, "Yeah?"

"Yeah Munson," you nod into the crook of his neck, "Gonna be your wife one day."

#rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson au #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things au