#i can’t move home again i can’t move home again i can’t move home again i can’t move home again i can’t move home again i can’t move home a

[luveline]

Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻

mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”

You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.

“Okay, now we count. One, two…”

“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”

“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”

“Five, six, four–”

You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.

“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.

“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.

You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”

She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.

“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.

She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.

She touches your neck.

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.

Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.

If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.

You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”

“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.

“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.

“Hi,” Junie says.

“Hi, babe.”

“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”

“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”

You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.

“Eddie, what is that stuff?”

“You don’t know what day it is today?”

You think about it for a second at least. “No?”

It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.

“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.

You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”

You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I am. Open it up.”

You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.

“Is it today?” you ask.

“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”

You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”

“Junie got me this?”

“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”

Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.

Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”

You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.

You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.

“What’s in the box?”

He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”

“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.

He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”

You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.

It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.

“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”

You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.

Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”

“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.

“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”

“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.

He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”

“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

“I really love you.”

“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”

Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”

She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.

#june baby universe #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[astraystayyh]

chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

#this was actually the first thing ive ever written for skz #though i never posted it// i just tweaked it a bit today #im posting it mainly to reach more ppl in stayblr for the donations but please enjoy regardless! #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #chan x reader #chan x you #chan fluff #chan angst #skz hurt/comfort #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios

[leilanihours]

# TO MY BED

pairing: paige bueckers x wnba rook!reader (but it's only mentioned like twice)

word count: 2055

warnings: smut aka fingering and p eating and almost not rlly public sex (they're on live idk if that counts) lol!

summary: you can't help yourself when paige is sitting on your couch look sexy as ever.

from lani: nearly collapsed when i saw the pics from tds live so heres this short smut bc @bueckersstrap gave me the idea 🤭 also chose this song bc it was on paiges freaky playlist so i just had to.

“PAIGE, I’M HOME!” you announced as you dropped your keys onto the kitchen counter of your new york city apartment. you had just got back from practice with your new team, the new york liberty, and you were desperate for some quality time with your girlfriend.

“hey, y/n, i’m on live!” you hear from the living room. as you turn the corner you see paige sitting on the couch with her phone tilted against the glass vase on your coffee table.

normally she would’ve greeted you with kisses and eager hands but with thousands of people watching her every move, she had to control herself.

it was also an unspoken rule that if either of you were on live you would announce it when someone walks in the room so they would watch themselves. it’s safe to say that there have been many…incidents…on live that may or may not have almost exposed your relationship.

nodding to her, you go into your shared bedroom to change out of your practice clothes and into some house clothes. you were fairly warm from the workout, so you decided to put on a simple shirt and shorts before making your back out to where paige was seated.

“yo, you said y/n is there? lemme say hi!” you hear kk, your former teammate, say from paige’s phone speakers.

“kk wants to talk to you,” she says, handing you the phone once you sat down on the armchair across from the couch.

“hey kk! how you been girly pop?” you smile with a wave.

“i been doin’ real good, how ‘bout you? i know you been living it up there in new york with your new team,” she jokes with the last comment, playfully side-eyeing you through the screen.

“you can just say you’re jealous, it’s okay,” you add.

“and what if i am? you look better in blue and white anyway, not no seafoam green and black likeee.”

“man shut up, kk,” you laugh, giving the phone back to paige who has been quietly giggling at the interaction.

“you being a menace again, kk? this is what happens when y/n leaves, huh, you start actin’ up?” paige teases.

“who you callin’ a menace? you can’t talk with the way you jumpscared the entire internet with those cruise braids,” kk snickers.

“bro it wasn’t even my fault!” she defends. she begins to talk about how a lady offered to do her hair and ended up doing her dirty.

for the first time since you got home, you are able to fully take in her appearance. she no longer has the full braids from the cruise, but rather a couple side braids on either side of her head, the rest of her hair in a simple ponytail.

she was wearing a white nike sports bra paired with white and black basketball shorts. there was a fluffy blanket draped over her shoulders - one that she had bought for the both of you when you first bought the apartment.

you subconsciously bite your lip as you continue to scan her body. the wide spread of her legs as she gets comfortable, the flex of her arms and abs whenever she adjusts the blanket, the way her tongue occasionally darts out between her lips as she talks. god, she looked sexy.

this girl could literally be doing the most normal, domestic thing but you would still feel the urge to rip her clothes off, similarly to how you feel right now. you clench your thighs together at the thought, wanting nothing more than to take her right there on the couch.

meanwhile, while you were completely zoned out, paige ended her story and looked up at you. with her own lip between her teeth, her eyes darken slightly when she notices you checking her out. she clears her throat to get your attention, making your eyes shoot to hers.

with a slight movement of her head, she wordlessly motions you to come sit next to her. you oblige, of course, the desire to be close to her too strong to resist. the sun has started to set outside your apartment windows, creating a warm, influential atmosphere in the room.

“you okay?” she whispers seductively as kk and kayla argue about something on her phone.

“mhm,” you nod, eyes trained on her pink lips. she smirks at your quiet state and decides to tease you even more.

she goes back to talking with the two girls on live, but sheds the blanket covering her to fully lean back against the couch cushions. her entire body is now on display. shit.

her muscles are defined as she crosses her arms and the smooth skin of her thighs is exposed as her shorts ride up from her adjustments. she knows exactly what she’s doing.

your lips part at the sight. you were currently out of the frame, but if you weren’t, thousands of people would see how down bad you are for her (as if they’ve never seen it before).

you get up from your seat next to paige to grab a drink from the kitchen in an attempt to compose yourself. as you take a deep breath and sip your sparkling water,

you look up to see paige’s hungry eyes on yours, a teasing smirk on her face. she returned to a sat-up position, blanket draped over her legs. you shake your head in pretend annoyance, not wanting to give into her just yet.

with a plan set in your head, you make your way back to the couch and set your drink on the table. however, when you retract your arm and “accidentally” knock the camera over, you set it back up so that only the top half of paige was visible, not her bottom half. 

“sorry, y’all,” paige says, “my blanket accidentally hit the phone,” she lies as she eyes you suspiciously, your actions not going unnoticed.

you simply smirk at her and kneel to the floor in front of her. quietly, you remove the blanket from her lap and begin to rub her things with your hands. her skin was cold to the touch but beneath that, she was burning up from the tension. slightly panicked, she widens her eyes for a split second before raising an eyebrow at you.

you look up at her as you start placing delicate kisses on her skin, making your way closer to her heat. your fingers find their way up to the waistband of her shorts and tug, silently asking for approval. she nods while one of her hands sneakily drifts to move some of your hair out of your face.

slowly, you pull her shorts down along with her boxers revealing her wet cunt. the sight of her already aroused by your touch turns you on even more.

you revert your attention back to the paige’s face. she is nodding absentmindedly along to what kk and kayla are talking about, her expression straight yet flushed from your actions.

finally, you slide two fingers into her with ease from her slick. she bites down on her lip harder to prevent herself from making any noise as you pump your fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. you lick your own lips as you continue to observe her vulnerability because fuck she looks hot.

you continue to pound her pussy, occasionally curling your fingers in a “come here” type of motion. once you notice that she is getting more squirmish and shifting her hips to buck up against your fingers, you lower your head to lick at her clit. she puts her fist up to her mouth at this, eyebrows slightly furrowed. you can tell she’s trying so hard to have some decorum, but you were not making it easy.

as your tongue laps at her clit and your fingers ram her entrance, paige can feel herself nearing her release. her stomach is tense as her abs flex. the bright pink tint on her cheeks reflects how the rest of her body feels. she’s still covering her mouth when kayla decides to ask her if she’s okay, noticing her sudden silence.

“what?” she says, snapping out of her daze, “no, yeah, i’m good over here. just really focused on y’all’s conversation. what were you saying about that game from last year?”

you laugh into her cunt at her shaky cover up. the vibrations force a hushed “fuck” out of her, eyes widening at her slip.

“what was that, paige?” kk asks suspiciously.

“oh, nothin’ i just…stubbed my toe on the..table leg,” she sounds out of breath as she continues to lie, and she’s thankful for the overall poor quality of the livestream because everyone would be able to see small beads of sweat form on her forehead and her chest start to heave otherwise.

your fingers push against the special spot in paige’s pussy, making one of her hands fly down to your head, encouraging you to continue. you oblige and abuse that same spot, hitting it over and over in attempt to get her over the edge.

you raise your lips from her cunt so you can get a good look at her face when she comes. she senses the knot in her stomach tighten, and with a few more pumps of your long fingers, it snaps.

she lets out a long, shaky breath as she releases all over your fingers and the couch. even after this, you slowly keep pushing your fingers in and out of her as she comes down from the high.

when you remove your fingers and place a delicate kiss on her thigh, the tensity she didn’t even know she had in her shoulders is gone as she tries to catch her breath as discreetly as possible.

kayla is still caught up in sharing one of her stories from one of her classes, but kk has paid close attention to paige’s behavior and noticed the abnormality of it.

there is a confused look on her face until she realizes that you were still in the room with paige, and awfully quiet might she add, when you were typically very chatty and bubbly. her jaw drops as she quickly sits up and begins to laugh.

“okay so boom i think we gotta end the live now y’all!” she says hurriedly, still laughing.

“wait what?” kayla questions.

“i think paige has to meet up with someone in a bit, right paige?”

now paige’s face is scrunched up in confusion. it’s not until kk raises her eyebrows knowingly that she understands what she means.

“ohhh, yeah you know what i totally forgot i had somethin' tonight,” she plays along, “but i’ll text you guys soon?”

“nah it’s all good,” kk continues tease, “ion expect to hear from you for a while…or y/n.”

“i’m so confused. what is happening?” kayla sighs.

“paige is just a real busy girl, i guess,” you hear kk say.

you laugh at kayla’s confusion and kk’s antics. kk’s ears practically perk up at the sound.

“alright bye y/n, bye paige, bye kayla, hope y’all have fun doing…whatever…” she smirks through the phone.

“bye y’all,” paige responds.

“okay…bye…i guess?”

and with that, the live has ended and you are suddenly thrown against the couch cushions. paige is now on top of you, trapping your body from moving.

you can tell from the way she pins you down that she couldn't wait to take you to your bed, the need for you too strong at the moment.

“you must think you’re so funny, huh?” her voice is low and enticing as she begins to rip your clothes off of you, lips attacking your skin, “almost got us caught. again.”

“couldn’t help myself,” you whisper, “looked so sexy just sitting there.”

“yeah? well since you wanna act like a slut in front of our friends then i’ll treat you like one. is that what you wanted?”

“maybe.”

“fuck, y/n, you’re gonna make me lose my mind one day,” she basically moans into your neck as she grinds her hips down onto yours.

you’re both oblivious to the text message that dings on paige’s phone, both too caught up in each other’s embrace to put your attention on anything else.

kamorea pop: y’all are so damn nasty.

#leilanihours #paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #uconn #wcbb #wbb #wnba #new york liberty #x reader #smut #oneshot #to my bed #chris brown #Spotify

[miley1442111]

who did this to you?-a.hotchner

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a/n: i got nothin.

summary: aaron gets quite the surprise after a mission

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, reader is hurt, talk of death and hospitals, happy ending

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Everything was so loud. Everyone was in Aaron’s ear but he tuned them out, too busy looking for you to notice the congratulations from the fellow officers and FBI agents alike. 

Where did you go? 

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You stood in the ladies bathroom, the pain finally catching up with you as the tears started pouring. You’d go to the hospital once you got back to Quantico. You knew you had multiple broken ribs, every breath becoming more and more difficult to take. You knew everyone would question your broken and bleeding nose. You knew Aaron would look at you with that same disappointed look he seemingly exclusively gives you. You wanted to sob every time he looked at you like that. Like you were a waste of his time and efforts, a waste of resources, a waste of space. 

You whimpered as you tried to stop the bleeding in your nose, the pain making yur entire body feel boiling hot. 

Knock knock. 

Fuck. 

“Yeah?” you coughed out.

You heard a sigh of relief. “You’re alright,” Aaron stated, his previous anxiety falling away. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Y-yeah,” you moved to open the door, but you’d moved too abruptly and it caused a sharp, excruciating pain to shoot through your entire chest, rendering you breathless, and helpless against the uncontrollable whine that left your mouth. Aaron’s body tensed and he tried the door handle, locked.  

“Y/n? Open the door,” he demanded, panic running through his voice. “Right now.”

“N-no,” you sobbed into your hands, every breath becoming more and more difficult.

“Y/n you have to open the door for me, I can’t help you if you don’t open this door, honey.”

“No! Just go away,” you called back. “I don’t want you to look at me like that,” you grumbled and he stilled the fiddling with the door handle he was doing.

“Like what honey?”

“Like you think I’m a waste of your time and space. Like you know how awful of a person I am.”

Aaron’s heart broke. He had been trying to resist his feelings for you for weeks, so he’d become distant. He never thought he’d been this mean. 

“I don’t think that Y/n,” he said softly. “Now, please open this door so I can help you.”

He heard the lock unlock and that was all he needed. He pushed the door open and there you were. Broken, bleeding nose, holding your side in agony as you sobbed. He pulled you into his arms tentatively, careful of your pains, but he looked at you with all the care in the world. 

“Who did this to you?” He asked. 

“Aaron... you did,” you sniffled. Aaron thought back to the confrontation with the unsub. He had to shoot you. You were wearing a vest, but you fell backwards, back and down about three feet. The realisation dawned on him and horror filled his features. 

“I am so sorry,” he whispered into your hair as you cried into his chest. He pressed soft kisses to your head to try and calm you down. “Where does it hurt?” He asked.

“My ribs. Some of them are broken- I think. And m-my nose.” 

His heart squeezed again. He had hurt you. He had caused this to happen. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your hair, emotions overcoming him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you whispered. 

“No it’s not. I hurt you.” 

“You did-it was- it’s alright,’ you stuttered, trying to make this easier for him. “I- Can we go outside to the paramedics?” You asked. “I can’t breathe.”

He nodded furiously and slung one of your arms over his shoulders and practically carried you to the ambulance. 

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

As you got checked out they decided you probably had a concussion as well, and that they wanted to keep you in the hospital overnight. 

“Can I come with you?” He asked sheepishly as you were getting strapped into the gurney. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, exhaustion and pain clouding everything. You just wanted to sleep. You just wanted everything to go away. 

Aaron sat with you in the ambulance, holding your hand. He was there when you flatlined too, apparently one of your broken ribs pierced a lung. 

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

The heart monitor was flat as the paramedic beside him sprung into action, shouting at the driver to speed up. You were hooked up to machines and you were gone. For a whole 4 minutes. You were gone. 

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

Aaron sat by your bedside with your hand in his as he prayed to a god he didn’t even believe in. As he asked for you to live. As he asked for you to live, and not hate him. 

He watched as your hands twitched and pressed the call button. They removed the breathing tube. You were alive. 

You were alive. 

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

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “I never thought… I didn’t think it would hurt you that badly. I didn’t think you’d fall back. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head in an attempt to make him stop apologising. 

“I love you,” he confessed. “I-I’m in love with you. A-and I thought it would be better to just… ignore it, and in turn, ignore you. I’m never disappointed in you. I think you’re amazing. Knowing that I’ll see you makes getting up every morning and going into that god-for-saken building worth it. Knowing that you’ll be there, it makes my life so much better. I’m so sorry that I ever made you feel like I didn’t like you, or that I didn’t value you. I do. I love you.”

You were wide-eyed and confused. You grabbed your phone to write out what you had to say, since you couldn’t talk. 

What the fuck?

Aaron laughed. “I love you.”

Aaron, you seriously did this when I can’t fucking talk and can barely move? 

He laughed harder and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a fan of dramatics.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled all the same. 

Come here. 

You patted the bed beside you and he shook his head. 

“You need to rest-”

“Aaron!” Your voice sounded groggy and painful. 

He lay beside you, his arms perched carefully around you as you both fell back to sleep.

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

[emmyrosee]

Can we talk about how rintaro probably swallows your engagement ring by accident?

Honestly? Okay listen… Do you think he swallows it? I think he swallows it.

Because like okay. Rintaro puts a ton of planning behind everything he does, he wants to make your engagement this massive scene out of a movie because you’re out of a movie; you swooped into his life and showed him the path he wants to be on, the one that always leads back to you.

But like. Why would everything not crumble around him each and every time he tries to work up the courage to finally pop that four word phrase?

It was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be easy.

An engagement ring, propped on some frosting on the center of the cake, ready for you to scoop up and slip on and give him an excited yes and the world would clap and he’d get a Nobel prize or something for such an extravagant proposal.

Except. That doesn’t happen.

The first bite Rintaro takes, he shovels in his mouth nervously, and there’s a massive shock to his teeth when they clank down hard on the ring on his cake.

How he didn’t notice? How the waiter messed them up? He blames it on the waiter.

Him swallowing the ring..? Yeah no. That’s got him written all over it.

His nerves just got the best of him and sends the large diamond down his throat, eyes bulging out as he realizes. He chokes briefly, grabbing his wine and gulping it down to wash the jewelry down.

Uh oh.

“Baby?” You ask. “Something wrong?”

“…nope.”

The rest of dinner is silent, you trying desperately to make conversation and his mind going insane trying to process what to do next.

Your engagement ring, the object that completely envelops your love in a physical sense is floating in the acids of his stomach, and who knows what the next step in the plan is.

He dreads it.

The car ride is complete silence, you occasionally clearing your throat or sighing to try and strike a conversation, but Rin’s mind is on a complete other planet, trying to make a map of his next move and how to get the ring 1.) out of his body and 2.) to you.

Is he really going to give you a ring he ate? He can’t. That’s vile. But he can’t spend the money on another one, even if it is more than worth it to spend it on you, and-

“Rin,” you whisper, touching his thigh. “You just blew a red light.”

“Damn- I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“Don’t be sorry… is everything alright?”

“Just fine.”

“Are you mad at me?”

His foot slams hard, hard on the breaks, causing commotion behind him as the wailing of car horns fills the air. “God, baby, no, of course not!”

“Then why have you been so quiet?” You ask sadly.

“I can’t tell you.” Out of embarrassment and stupidity, he thinks to himself.

You leave it at that. You go quiet again, and when he makes a move to rest his hand on your thigh, you turn away, and his whole heart sinks.

The rest of the ride home drags on. There’s no more attempts of noise, no more sighs or clearing of throats, only the roar of the engine for a few more miles until you get home. He barely gets the chance to park the car before you’re out and storming up the driveway, clearly upset with the situation. He sighs and follows you in, and you’ve hiked up the stairs to the bathroom. He winces at the slam of the door, and he’s quick to call osamu for advice.

Advice that the twin gives him around countless gawfs of unhelpful, judgmental laughter.

He tells Rintaro to calm down and stop being weird towards you- take a spoonful of laxatives mixed in with water and let the body “process” for as long as it needs to. Get you a new ring, trash the old one and mourn the loss of money after you two get engaged.

He sighs and ends the call, making his way to the upstairs bathroom where he keeps the medicine. You brush past him in a towel, refusing to acknowledge him or his presence with so much as a “hmph.”

The shower he takes alone is cold, his mind is loud and his heart is pounding and his stomach queases for more than a few reasons. How could he have messed this up so badly? It was supposed to be cute! Just flashy enough for him to flaunt you, but simple enough to not be messed up.

Yet he messed it up.

Rintaro dries himself and makes his way into the bedroom, where you’re already burrowed under the covers on your side of the bed. He throws on some form of pajama before making his way downstairs to make his laxative drink.

One tablespoon of laxative mixed with water, allow body to process for one day before repeating, let all powder dissolve before drinking- he follows every single one of the thorough instructions completely, and he starts to drink the concoction with a scowl of disgust.

The hell is this made out of?

“What’re you still doing up?” You ask, and he swallows the last of the laxative with a wince.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he confesses. Then, he sighs and turns to face you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know.

You’re still upset.

“Listen,” he begins, carding a massive hand through his hair. “About tonight. It was absolutely nothing you did. It was my fault, and my annoyance and attitude had nothing to do with you.”

“Okay,” you sigh, but there’s an unconvinced lilt in your voice.

“I wanted this to be a perfect night, I wanted it to go so well-“

“Rinnie?”

“And I’m sorry, about my silence in the restaurant,” he sniffles, big hands pressing against his face and rubbing roughly. “The chef was supposed to put it on our cakes and his little rat waiter messed it up, and-“

“Put what on our cakes?”

“YOUR ENGAGEMENT RING!” He groans in complete agony. “Your ring! Fuck! I tried so hard to make the perfect proposal, and I just wanted it to be beautiful-“

“My… my ring?”

“Uh…. Yeah?”

“My engagement ring?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, and he feels like he’s going to upchuck every bit of food he’s ever eaten.

Though that may not be the worst thing at this point.

“You wanna marry me?” You wail, collapsing to your knees in excitement. He perks up slightly, slipping of his seat to join you on the floor.

“Of course I want to marry you,” he confesses. “God, I’ve… I’ve wanted to marry you for the past three years, I got the ring perfect four months ago.” He blinks out a line of tears to mimic yours, and you cup his cheeks in your trembling palms. “But every time I tried to propose, something went wrong, and I… I didn’t know how to do it anymore. I’m sorry baby…”

“Rintaro,” you say softly, chuckling around the your quivering voice. “I never needed a big proposal. Ever. All I ever want is for you to promise me we’ll be together. And that’s more than enough.”

His face softens before he lets a hand smack his face in obliviousness, disappointed in himself that he got so lost in trying to impress you that he almost didn’t.

“Put it on me!” You squeal, holding out your hand. He turns a scarlet red and looks away.

“I uh… I can’t.”

You deflate slightly, and he gives you an embarrassed smile. “Why not?” You whimper, emotionally fried from the rollercoaster he just put you on.

“I don’t have it.”

“What!”

“I mean, technically i do,” he says, gnawing his lip. “But I… uhm… I can’t give it to you yet. I uh… I need a few days. And… a few cleaners to look at it.” He gives you a shy chuckle and his toothy grin is mixed with frightened eyes, and your own widen. “The uhm… the ring was on the cake…”

Your hands clasp over your mouth, tears immediately drying and replacing with small, choked and stifled laughter.

“You didn’t,” you manage. He nods, uncomfortable. “Did… did you eat my ring, Rintaro?”

“It wasn’t my fault! Damn waiter gave us the wrong cakes!”

“AND YOU SWALLOWED IT?”

“I WAS NERVOUS, OKAY?”

“RINTARO!”

You two clutch each other on the cold kitchen floor as you laugh, heads knocking against each other as you steal kisses from between cackles.

“I’ve got an idea,” he says once you’ve both seemed to calm down, and he quickly pops on his feet to grab the bread on the counter. With the twist tie, he takes it off the bread and makes his way back to you. “Give me your hands.”

The tie only fits around the top part of your ring finger, and you sniffle softly at how silly and sweet this whole thing is.

“We’re gonna get married,” he says between an emotional wheeze. “And we’re going to grow old together, have our nine dogs and four cats.”

“No kids?”

“Ew gross.”

“Yeah, sure, as if you don’t bend to my every whim bro.” You shift slightly to rest your back against his chest, curling against his still sitting frame. “And our kids are going to love the Miyas-“

“Because you love the Miya’s. I have nothing to do with that.”

“As if Osamu’s not going to be your best man,” you scoff. He smirks and buries his face in your hair, listening to your words weave through his brain and calming him down from the disaster of a night.

Then, he hums, “you want to take my last name?” He asks, and you give him a small swat on the leg. “What! Im just asking!”

“Of course I’m going to take your last name,” you say, turning your head up to face him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, tearing up again when you nod.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

#THIS HAS BEEN IN THE WORKS FOR SO LONG DAWG #GOOD LORD #suna rintaro #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x reader fluff #suna rintaro x gn!reader #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna #suna fluff #suna x reader #suna x reader fluff #suna x gn!reader #suna imagine #suna haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

[jjkamochoso]

It's me again lol!! What about jjk men taking the reader on an aquarium date or like a museum date! ^_^

UR MIND >>>>>>> SO ADORABLE

Also I’m now including Ino because I can’t believe I’ve been forgetting to add my pookie in these

Enjoy and thanks for the request!!! <3

JJK Men Taking You on a Date to the Aquarium/Museum

Fluff

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji:

“That fish looks like you.”

Your eyes fell to where Yuji’s finger was pointing. There was a huge fish with big, bulging eyes swimming in circles in the aquarium exhibit in front of you.

“Oh, really, does it?” You were thoroughly amused at your boyfriend’s antics, his grin widening as you played along. “This one is a spitting image of you.”

Yuji caught a glimpse of the fish you were pointing at and turned away from you, making you frown. Did you inadvertently hurt his feelings? The fish wasn’t *that* ugly. Besides, you both were joking around, but you never meant to go too far and make him sad. You tentatively put a hand on his back to get his attention.

“Yuji, I didn’t—”

He faced you again, this time sporting a quintessential fish face with his cheeks sucked in and lips protruding in a pout. You immediately started cracking up, and since laughter is contagious, especially among you two, so did he.

“There’s lots of cute fish here, but you were the cutest,” you finally said, making him blush. He grasped your hand tightly and you set off for another exhibit.

Megumi:

When Megumi asked you on a date to an art museum, you were elated. A quiet, calm activity like this was perfect for the both of you so you could enjoy each other’s company without many other people observing you. You walked side by side with the boy as you meandered through the exhibit that was showcasing artwork of animals in ancient civilizations. You stopped in front of a particularly cute sculpture of a dog, cooing softly.

“Megumi, look how adorable,” you said, and he nodded in agreement.

“Reminds me of my own,” he mused, referring to his divine dogs (you thought it was precious how close he was to his shikigami).

“Maybe we can bribe the curator with Gojo’s money to take it home with us.”

Megumi shot you a look. “Are you serious? I don’t think you can just take art like that.”

A few seconds passed.

“Can you?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “I was joking.”

Megumi was quiet as usual but the air about him seemed almost contemplative. After a few more seconds, he shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Gojo would probably break it anyway.”

“Wait, were you actually considering trying to buy it?” you questioned.

“Maybe.” The black haired boy shrugged, moving on to the next sculpture.

“Fushiguro the art collector, huh? Who would’ve thought you were so extravagant. Gojo’s spending habits must have rubbed off on you,” you teased, making him huff.

“Shut up,” he said, no bite to his tone whatsoever as you just giggled, cuddling up to his side as you continued on with your date.

Yuta:

“It’s like getting a million little kisses. I’m so in love with this creature.”

"Am I… jealous of a starfish?”

You were currently holding a starfish in your hands, its suction cups sticking to your skin, leaving behind a tickling sensation that you couldn’t get enough of. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan of your kissing analogy and was doing his best not to pout over something so silly.

“Yuta, come closer! It’s too cute not to hold.”

He couldn’t deny he was curious to see what the hype was about. People had flocked over to this exhibit in droves and you guys had waited in line to hold a sea star for an ungodly amount of time—he wasn’t going to miss out now. The handler put one in his hands too and he immediately understood what you meant earlier.

“They are really cute. I see what you meant by the whole kissing thing, that’s amazing,” he said, his voice laced with wonder and amusement as he watched the sea creature grip onto his skin. He then looked up and locked eyes with you, both of your irises alight with love.

“But I still prefer yours.”

Inumaki:

There’s plenty of fish in the sea but you’re the only one for me.

You raised an eyebrow at the words on the phone screen shoved in front of your face while you were watching some fish swim by in the aquarium tank. Toge, meanwhile, was dying laughing at his lame pick up line written in his notes app. Seeing his reaction made your lips quirk up into a mischievous grin as something came to mind. You pulled out your own phone and hurriedly began typing, thrusting it toward him when you were done.

I cod-nt imagine my life without you, Toge. You’re a reel catch.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the grimace he wore.

“Fish flakes,” he said, putting his head in his hands and stifling giggles.

“My line was that bad, huh?” you asked, nudging him softly.

“Salmon,” he agreed, but the loving look he held in his eyes when they met yours again showed he was anything but bothered.

“You’re of-fish-ally the cutest boy I’ve ever seen,” you told him while ruffling his hair playfully, earning a loud groan from the blonde. He quickly typed out another sentence.

I’m so glad we go to the same school.

Noritoshi:

You were pleasantly surprised when Noritoshi asked you on a date to the aquarium. You figured he would’ve deemed it too childish or an experience not scholarly enough but you were wrong, now feeling the pull of his hand as he excitedly walked you around, pointing things out and chatting about things he had just learned.

“…and I just read that most fish don’t have eyelashes. Did you see that too?”

“Except for sharks,” you replied, a gentle smiling resting on your face.

“Exactly.”

Noritoshi took a deep breath as you led him to a bench to sit down and watch the jellyfish float around.

“I’m sorry for getting too passionate. I just feel like I can be myself here. There’s less… pressure, if that makes sense. Like I can learn things just to know them, not to impress anyone or get a good grade on something. It’s… nice.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I know what you mean,” you said, laying a comforting hand on his leg. Noritoshi rested his hand on top of yours and gave it a light squeeze, observing the entrancing dance of the jellyfish.

“They look so free,” he muttered. “I wonder what that feels like.”

Your head was now lovingly balanced against his shoulder as you squeezed his hand back.

“I promise you that one day you’ll know.”

Todo:

“Y/n! You have to watch this!”

You were happy to accompany Aoi to the local science museum for a date. You two were having a fun time exploring and trying out all the different experiments the museum had to offer. You weren’t sure what to expect when Aoi called you over to the experiment he had just done since you were enthralled in a presentation about lightning. You were confused when Aoi put his hand on a big ball, but all of a sudden, the hair in his bun became even spikier than normal.

“Static electricity!” he exclaimed, sporting a huge grin. Seeing how happy all of this made your boyfriend had you smiling from ear to ear as well. When he eventually took his hand off the orb, his hair didn’t quite go back into place.

“C’mere,” you giggled, gesturing to his hair, “I’ll fix it for you.”

“Thank you, my love,” he said, leaning over to where you could reach him. You combed the strands back into place and gave him a kiss on the cheek when you were done.

“You’re having a fun time today, right?” Aoi asked you, a rare moment of vulnerability from the muscular man.

“Of course, Aoi. Thank you for inviting me here.”

“No problem,” he replied, his cocky demeanor back as he winked at you. “Now, if you’re interested, there’s a presentation on superconductors in a few minutes. Do you want to see it?”

It always surprised you when you remembered just how smart your sometimes air-headed boyfriend really was.

Gojo:

When you invited Satoru to the science museum, he was extremely excited. Not because of the science aspect, no, but because he loved to eat the packs of freeze dried ice cream you can buy from the gift shop. You were busy reading a giant wall panel about physics when you felt the thunk of a head resting on your back and heard a sigh of exasperation.

“Are you finished yet? This is boring,” Satoru said, mumbling into your shirt.

“I’m trying to learn, Satoru. It wouldn’t kill you to learn something either. You’re a teacher, aren’t you supposed to have a thirst for knowledge?”

“I have a thirst for soda,” came a muffled reply from behind you. You rolled your eyes, going back to reading. Satoru kept fidgeting and you found yourself getting frustrated at his lack of focus.

“Since you know so much, why don’t you tell me about relativity and quantum mechanics?”

“Quantum mechanics studies the world by looking at just a few small particles like photons and electrons. Relativity is the theory of gravitation that Einstein proposed around the same time as quantum mechanics. General relativity studies the construct of space-time and gravity, while special relativity studies special conditions and scenarios, such as length contraction, which is where an object is moving near the speed of light and its length actually shortens. See, I already know this stuff, so can we pleeeease go to the gift shop now?” Satoru whined, throwing his head back in an exaggerated display of boredom. Your mind was still reeling over the fact that your boyfriend was… ridiculously good at science and never bothered to tell you?!

“I… yeah,” you said, completely dumbfounded. Satoru ignored the confusion in your voice as he cheered, grabbing your hand and leading you to the gift shop.

Geto:

You and Suguru were taking your time walking through the museum he chose for your date. It was nice to walk with him, holding hands and enjoying deep conversations about the pieces that were showcased in each exhibit. You came up to a bench in front of a particularly large infographic and took a seat, your lover sitting next to you. After he knew you were finished reading, he asked you the few little words he assumed would set you off on a passionate tangent (he was right).

“So, y/n, what are your thoughts on this topic?”

As you began to analyze everything you just learned, Suguru watched you intently, but not in a negative manner; he was just so genuinely interested in what you had to say that it was like the whole world around him disappeared every time you opened your mouth. He nodded along, hearing you bring up things he hadn’t even considered yet.

“I’m lucky to have a partner who’s so intelligent,” Suguru cooed, his thumb ghosting over your jawline, initiating this romantic moment like you two were the only people in the building. To him, you were the only people that mattered anyway, so what was the point in hiding how he truly felt?

Nanami:

“C’mon Kento, it’s not as scary as you think it is. They’re completely harmless.”

You were currently trying to get your boyfriend to pet the stingrays but he was not having any part of it. The color had drained from Kento’s face when you submerged your hand in the clear water, feeling the smooth surface of the rays under your fingertips. The blonde man wasn’t afraid, per se, but he didn’t think it was the wisest decision to be touching such a dangerous animal.

“Y/n, I just don’t think it’s a good idea. What if you provoke them?”

You were about to laugh when you saw he was genuinely distressed. Frowning, you stood up and tried to dry your wet hand the best you could before reaching out to him.

“Kento, honey, it’s alright. They have to be really angry to sting people. I promise you’ll be alright if you try it.”

Kento relented and leaned over the touch tank, hesitantly placing his hand in the water next to yours. When a ray swam under him, the rubbery texture gracing his skin, he immediately tensed up. Your unoccupied hand landed on his arm as encouragement and it seemed to help him relax a bit. A few more stingrays came over to him and Kento finally calmed down, smiling as he greeted his new friends.

Ino:

“Babe, look, that’s literally us.”

Ino caught your attention away from a particularly interesting exhibit about seaweed as he pointed to a diagram that displayed two fish with their mouths on each other.

“Ino, that’s very sweet, but I think they’re fighting.”

Your boyfriend leaned closer to read the tiny print, his hands in his pockets in a display of nonchalance that you always found supremely attractive.

“Oh, you’re right! They try to flip each other over like that. It’s like the Spider-Man kiss but more badass.”

You shook your head, lightly chuckling as you linked your arm in his and continued walking through the aquarium. All of a sudden, you gasped and tapped Ino’s arm excitedly.

“Oh my god! This is literally us!”

Ino’s eyes went wide and his smile grew bigger. You were showing him to a video that displayed otters holding hands as they drifted in the water.

“Yeah,” he said dreamily, resting his chin on the top of your head as you watched the animals on the screen, “it is.”

Choso:

You were sitting in a dark room of the planetarium, looking up at a projected sky full of stars with your handsome boyfriend. Choso had his arm wrapped tightly around your body, hand resting on your waist as your head was nestled against his shoulder. You sat there quietly, enjoying the peacefulness of the exhibit. The sight of the stars above you changed into a slow spinning view of the earth and you gasped lightly.

“Woah, look at how beautiful our world is.” You didn’t hear him reply, which was unusual, so you lowered your eyes from the spectacular scene above to look at the man next to you.

“You’re my world,” he stated bluntly, unrelenting gaze boring into your own. “You’re the brightest star in the galaxy of my life.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you said, trying not to show how flustered you got over his beautiful words. He just drew you in closer, adamant to never let you go.

Toji:

“How does this piece make you feel?”

“Like I’ve been here for hours and I’m hungry.”

Toji wasn’t the biggest fan of the art museum you dragged him to but you were glad he allowed you to take him here in the first place. It meant a lot to you that he would willingly go somewhere like this that completely disinterested him, but he would go to the ends of the earth to please you.

“There’s a cafe around here if you wanna go eat,” you said, paying him no mind as you studied the painting that grabbed your attention.

Toji scoffed. “And leave you here by yourself? No way.”

Your focus was now broken, instead trying to stifle a laugh at his overprotective behavior. “The art isn’t going to kidnap me, you know.”

“I know,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest, “but some dude might see a smart, attractive person like you by yourself and think he has a chance.”

“And I need my big, hot, uninterested-in-art boyfriend to keep an eye out for me?”

“Exactly.” Toji smirked at you while you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I appreciate that. I’ll finish up here and we’ll head to the cafe together then?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You went back to your contemplative state while Toji’s eyes wandered the room. He would never tell you this, but he found many of the pieces actually interesting and hoped you would take him along to more places like this in the future.

#yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki x reader #noritoshi x reader #aoi todo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #ino takuma x reader

[ficmotel]

LIVES CHANGED

Part II: Things do Change

8.9k words

Warnings: Angst, Eddie being dumb, past Eddie x reader, mom!reader x dad! eddie munson

main masterlist

Series Masterlist

chapter 1

AN: I am so sorry for the wait, I had this whole plan to release this fic along with a reader only fic of her life after Eddie left but I made the stupid decision to apply for summer college courses thinking it would be easy LOL IM DUMB. Though the first week of classes passed and I have got it under control now. Though classes might slow down this series so bear with me, but I have planned about 5-6 parts for the series so stay tuned.

I hope you enjoy this series, and this part.

Eddie breathed a deep sigh as he rolled over, trying to catch his breath, sweat beading down his head. He stared at the ceiling, feeling sticky and dirty. He turned, reaching for the side table grabbing his lighter and a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips and lighting it. Blonde hair appeared over him, a manicured hand settling over his chest.

“Down for another round?” the sultry voice said, leaning over Eddie, resting her body against his chest. Taking the cigarette from between his lips and taking a hit for herself.

He stared at her for a second, “Can’t, Honey. Gotta meet the boys”

She pouted and leaned over to kiss him, before handing him back the cigarette before hoping off him going to collect her clothes. Eddie got up, putting out the cigarette and picking up his clothes, already planning a hot shower for when he arrived home.

“Well I had fun. We should do this again sometime” She asked from her place behind him, Eddie’s back was turned to her, slipping on his jeans.

“Maybe… I-I don’t know” Eddie mumbled, it was low but it was enough for her to hear him. She laughed but it wasn’t bitter but as if she expected this.

“Y’know this is why they call you Man-Whore Munson” She grabbed her bag and moved in front of him, as he buttoned his pants.

“Jules I-” Eddie started, an apology on his tongue when Jules held up her red manicured finger telling him to stop and shut up.

“Don’t start with me Eddie, I knew what this was. Like I said, you are known as Man-Whore Munson, I didn’t expect you to drop down on a knee and propose after a few fucks” He winced at the vulgarity, he knew that’s what the truth of it was but even after all the late nights he had, he hated facing the reality of it. Of the life he had chosen for himself.

“Just let me say, from one slut to another” Jules started without an air of care.

“You're not a slut, Jules” Eddie tried having known Jules for awhile, as she had been a groupie in his second world tour mostly joining because she hoped to catch Jeff’s attention. Which poor oblivious Jeff never caught on to which inevitably left her to seek refuge in Eddie’s bed.

“Shut it Munson, there’s no need to feel bad. Your a good fuck and a decent guy. But as I was saying, I do this because I want to, I have fun. You however seem like a kicked puppy after every fuck, it’s depressing and to be honest, it’s quite a turn off” She said with her usual amount of sass.

“Well that’s something every guy wants to hear” Eddie replied, in annoyance hoping to get out of this conversation as soon as possible.

“All I’m saying is work your shit out. This life ain’t for everyone.” She shrugged, grabbing her bag, kissing him on the cheek, her red lips staining his cheek as she strutted her way out of the room.

As she opened the door, she stopped turning back for a second “Or you could do all of us and yourself a favor and go back to the one”

“How are you so sure I have met the one?” Rolled his eyes, trying to prevent the ache in his heart at the thought.

“Oh hope off it Munson. With guys like you, there is always the one” She smirked, noticing the look on Eddie’s face. “See you later” she shouted, shutting the door behind her.

Leaving Eddie alone in the smoky, dingy motel room, her words lingering in his head. He thought about the one. You.

Memories of your laughter echoed in his mind, you and him sipping milkshakes, giggling at his dramatic displays of affection, the soft whines and moans you let him pull out of you. Eddie caught him smiling to himself for a second before the worst memory of all entered his mind, attacking and killing all the rest.

Your heartbroken face, eyes red rimmed with tears streaming down, then you getting in your car and driving away from him. He shook his head and proceeded to put on his shirt, gathering his leather jacket and making his way out.

Stardom had been everything he had expected it to be. Late nights, crazy concerts, lots and lots of drugs and beautiful women throwing themselves at him. He was living his dream, but there was something in Eddie that never was able to enjoy it.

No matter how many drugs he ingested or how many women he took to bed, nothing made him forget about you. About your sweetness, about how it felt to have you in his arms or how it felt to laugh with you, how it felt to be in you, or how devastating it felt to see you heartbroken and know he was the cause of it.

The days after the break up Eddie had put on a front, focusing all his energy and mind into his new life, the dream he had chosen over you. He had to, because if this life. The life he had chosen over a simple quiet one with you turned into another failure in Eddie Munson’s life he would never have been able to forgive himself. The funny thing was, everything turned out to be wonderful.

Corroded Coffin’s first album was a hit, one song landing on the top ten and playing on MTV. To be fair the first few months were quite a blur, he had been grieving all he left behind in Hawkins. Eddie hadn’t expected to miss the small town so much, but his break up with you had hit harder once he had arrived in LA.

He had tried so many drugs that year, he could barely remember their first national tour. Then the amount of women that had wanted a taste of the lead singer, Jules was probably right about the nickname he was given because Eddie Munson indeed became a Man Whore. Screwing almost every groupie or model that looked his way.

Then came Corroded Coffin’s second album which only solidified the band's status in LA and in the music world. Eddie had eased up on the drugs but still had his fair share at parties and an occasional joint during band practice. After that he became more selective of his female conquests, trying to avoid any woman that even reminded him of you.

Which wasn’t particularly hard, you were one in a million.

The band mates had called him out on his proclivities which had irritated him, he hated facing the reality of his love life because if he faced reality, he would have to face that there would never be another you. That you were out of his life indefinitely, he could handle the break up but to face the painful fact that he would one day fall in love with someone else or that you already had. Eddie couldn’t handle that, it hurt too much, to think that it was all truly over. Along with the fact that, it was entirely his fault.

Gareth had reminded him of the fact consistently which had led to countless fights between the two, always claiming that if it weren’t for you, Corroded Coffin wouldn’t be where they were at. That you should be with them instead of Jules or Lila or Janice or any of the numbers of women Eddie had invited into their tour bus.

Eddie knew Gareth was right but he couldn’t face it, could never face the truth, or the choice he had made. He should’ve ran to you, invited you along. Or he could have just stayed.

Though that was all in the past now, Eddie was here in the present and in the present he would shack up with Jules or Lila or Janice until any memory of you was pushed to the back of his mind.

Now on their third world tour, Corroded Coffin was currently staying in some motel room in Philadelphia. He had sprung for a motel room, not wanting to hear all the complaints that Jeff, Gareth and Doug would have for him. He was fully prepared to walk onto the tour bus and see Jeff’s judgemental gaze and hear an insult flying from Gareth’s mouth but it never came.

When he fully entered the bus, he could see Jeff on the phone, a lone tear falling from his eyes as Doug sat beside him, patting him on the back in comfort. Both Gareth and Doug looked at Jeff with pity and sadness in their eyes as well.

“Aye What-What Happened?” Eddie whispered softly in panic not wanting to interrupt whatever terrible phone call Jeff had received early in the morning.

Gareth turned to him, voice soft as well “Jeff’s dad died early this morning, they said it was a stroke”

Gareth’s voice wavered slightly delivering the news, and Eddie felt like he had received a punch in the gut. Jeff’s father had been like a third father to Eddie (After Wayne of course) always encouraging the boys to keep pursuing their dreams, he even helped Eddie fix up the van and taught him how to change a tire.

The boys had stayed silent as Jeff finished his somber phone call with his grieving mother, more tears tracked down Jeff’s face. He sat silent for a second, trying to find the words to say, but only four words came from his mouth. Four words that while Eddie understood were probably the last words Eddie had wanted to hear that morning.

“We gotta go home”

Three knocks rapped against your front door.

“I’ll be right there” You shouted from inside the bathroom. Your eyes scanned the version of you in the mirror, looking for anything out of place. You adjusted your dress once more before running out the bathroom, you turned to look at the clock on the wall. You were a little behind schedule but being behind schedule has become your new normal in the past six years.

You swung open the door, smiling at the older man on the other side. “Wayne” you breathed out “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice” You moved to the side letting the man into your home.

“Oh don’t worry about it, Darling. You know I can never stop myself from saying no to you” Wayne said sweetly. You could only smile back at the man you had known since you were fifteen.

You could feel his gaze on you, scanning your new hair do and freshly applied makeup that you had spent hours on.

“You look wonderful, Darling. First anniversary is it? getting real serious ain’t it?” Wayne asked, eyebrows raised in question. Though you could hear the teasing tone in his voice. You didn’t much like talking about your love life with anyone, especially Wayne but it was hard to keep it a secret when he frequented your life so often.

“I don’t know about that. H-He’s nice” you shrugged trying to hide the pink coloring your cheeks, twiddling with your fingers out of nervousness.

“Well you deserve nice, darling, and don’t worry on about me. I don’t tell that boy nothin” Wayne replied his voice turning sour as he said the last half, and an old ache settled in your chest.

“Thank you Wayne but you don’t need to be so angry on my account” You pleaded with him knowing that while he still loved and cared for his nephew, even he held the same amount of resentment at the boy as you did.

“I will be as angry as I like. Only a fool could ever let a gal like you go. Now let me and Miss Izzy be on our way. We don’t wanna keep lover boy waiting” He winked at you but also reminded you of how late you already were for your plans.

“Right. Izzy! Sweetie, Grandpa Wayne is here” You shouted before turning back to the older man, only a few seconds passed before you could hear the light steps of a small child running on the wood floors.

“GRAMPA WAYNE” The young girl yelled as she ran towards Wayne. A red and black stuffed bunny hanging from her fingers as jumped into the older man's arms. Him picking her up and raising her to the sky without a care to his own health.

“Izzy, what did I say about running to Grandpa Wayne like that? You're gonna hurt him” You scolded your five year old daughter.

“I’m sowwy, Grampa” The small girl said toward Wayne. Her eyes wide pleading for forgiveness, showcasing the same dramatics she could have only received from her father. Though while she bared a striking resemblance to your childhood self, there was no denying who her father was. Isabel was her father’s daughter, both in looks but in personality.

“Oh, it’s alright, Sweets. I’ll carry you and throw you until my back snaps in two” he said to the five year old, her giggling at his words.

“Again, thank you so much Wayne. My mom was supposed to babysit but she just came down with the flu. I can pay you if you’d like?” You explained, you didn’t mind Wayne babysitting your daughter as he had been there for the two of you since the day his nephew had left Hawkins. Though there was a small part of you that hated asking him for too much.

“Like I said Darling, no need to thank me. Spending anytime with my sweet grandbaby is enough payment.” He said lightly tickling the girl in his arms, her laughter spreading delight in the small house.

“You look pwetty mommy” She said, turning in her grandfather’s arms to touch your powdered face with her small fingers.

“Thank you Darling” You beamed and took a step closer, “Okay Sweet Pea, You will be spending the night with Grandpa Wayne but I will be bright and early to pick you up okay?” You explained adjusting the sweater around her torso, making sure she would be safe in the cold air.

Your daughter nodded her head, wrapping her arms around your neck from her place in Wayne’s arms “Otay Mommy” She replied, her little fingers getting stuck in your hair and probably messing up the hairstyle you spent 40 minutes on.

“Be very good for Grandpa Wayne and when I pick you up we can go for pancakes. How does that sound?”

The girl's eyes went wide with excitement as she began wiggling in her Grandfather’s hold, “Can we get a milkshake too?” she asked eyes pleading to you. You giggled at your daughters face, you could never say no to her.

“Of course, sweet pea but you got to be good for Wayne”

“I will be so so good. I promith” The young girl replied, you only smiled back at her, a moment of guilt filled you not wanting to leave your sweet girl. Though you couldn't deny the excitement in your gut for the night.

Wayne and Izzy made their way out the door, before driving off to spend the night at Wayne’s trailer. You composed yourself, fixing your hair from the mess your daughter had made before grabbing your purse and meeting the man who was currently waiting patiently for you.

“You look beautiful” He said, a twinkle in his eyes as they surveyed your face and your body. 

You felt yourself blush, it had been a long time since someone had looked at you with such hungry eyes. Though now after a year of dating, you supposed it should’ve felt casual, normal but a small part of you still wanted to shrink into yourself, to run away. Though your mothers words rang in your head. 

“You can’t hide away forever. You are hot stuff, you gotta move on with your life eventually” 

So instead of instantly running away, you accepted the compliment and thanked the man in front of you. You had met him at a bar when you went out for your co-worker Steve's birthday. You had walked outside to call your mom to check in on Izzy. (and to avoid the music blaring inside the bar.) 

When the man with chocolate brown hair, and a gray suit with his tie undone walked up to you. He had flirted with you unashamedly and then bought you a drink. When the night was over you had danced twice and he had slipped you a card with his name and  number on it. 

‘Adam Linden, Hawkins Post Journalist’

(260) - 555- 6784

You were wary of putting your heart out there again, though the feelings he gave you, were so refreshing. You hadn’t realized how in need of affection you were until you were being showered in it. You didn’t want to give love a try after Izzy’s father left. You spent the first three years focused solely on school and motherhood showering a baby Izzy with all the love and affection of two parents, while receiving very little for yourself. 

You had gone on a date with Steve Harrington, but that only made you realize that you and him wouldn’t work out, mostly because Izzy’s father had left you distrustful and insecure. After that, you mostly avoided dating, not wanting the judgment that came with you being a single mother, or the fear of having your heart broken. 

But when one Adam Linden strolled up to you, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a promise to buy you a drink, absent from any music or memory of a man from the past. 

You wouldn’t deny, you were not completely comfortable, your dates with a certain Munson boy were always relaxed. Pizza dinners, movies, Bob’s diner whereas dates with Adam were five star restaurants and office parties. Though Adam seemed entirely interested in you, and it felt good. To be desired, to be wanted. The change of relationship was daunting, but every date you had with Adam there was a flicker of the dream you let go of. The dream of a true family, with a loving husband and children running underfoot. 

Adam was a perfect choice to fulfill your dreams, he was kind, understanding, and had a stable job. He wasn’t the kind of man to run away from you for a better job, he would take you with him, buy you a house with a white picket fence. You would be content, and your Izzy would have a father. 

When you were younger it was an image of a perfect home with you baking cookies with two kids, a husband with his hair pulled up and into a bun, with a few curls hanging loose. Him putting on a vinyl as he came to dance with one of the children, stealing a bite of the cookie dough. A perfect husband and two faceless, nameless children. 

The dream was different now though, one of the children wasn't faceless or nameless, She was a bright bubbly little girl named Isabel who enjoyed dragons and princesses, who had the wildest curls and the biggest brown eyes. Who was born with all the confidence you lacked but matched you in curiosity, who was too dramatic for her own good. You could see her with another little sister or brother, being careful as she taught them how to properly mix the pancake batter or there could be an oopsie. Now the picture of your husband was different, he probably wouldn’t worry about playing music or stealing cookie dough. You could picture Adam there with you, he probably would be the kind of man to sit at the table and read the newspaper with his coffee, or maybe he would be at work, or maybe he would be right by your side helping the children? 

“Babe?” Adam asked, your mind returned to the present. Your hand on a wine glass, and a half-finished grilled salmon on your plate. Adam had his brows furrowed looking at you.

“Sorry, today was tiring. I zoned out a bit, what were you saying?” You gave a tired trying smile after you explained. Your mind returns back to the present, to the man in front of you. 

He smiled softly at you, he opened his mouth to say something but quickly stopped when the waiter came to collect your plates, sliding a piece of chocolate cake in front of you. 

“I didn’t order this” You spoke to the waiter.

“I did, babe. I know you love chocolate cake” You blushed at the gesture; you wouldn’t say it was your absolute favorite, but the thought is what counted. 

“Thank You, Adam. I do love some cake” You tried to joke but it seemed to fall on deaf ears with only Adam looking at you intently with a sort of look that made you want to run for the hills. 

When you grabbed your fork, you moved the plate slightly for a better cut. That is when you noticed the shimmering jewelry hidden by the pastry. You turned the plate fully to reveal a glittering diamond ring sat next to the chocolate cake. Staring at you, asking a question. 

You felt absolutely sick at the sight, but when the man before you stood up from his seat and kneeled before you. A hopeful look in his eyes, and lovely words spouting from his mouth, the looks of dozens of curious restaurant guests staring at you. 

The dream flickered once more, so instead of running from fear. You accepted it. 

“Yes, i’ll— I would be delighted to marry you” 

Eddie’s car pulled up to the trailer. It had been almost six years since had been back, not wanting to return to his one pony town but the worst crises do bring people back together. 

Eddie hadn’t felt nerves like this since his first real concert in LA but this was much worse. He wasn’t nervous at all when he was on the plane but that could’ve been because of all the whiskey he had decided to drink before taking flight.  

Walking up the steps of his home and knocking on the trailer door like he was a stranger, made Eddie feel homesick for the first time in years. When the door opened, the air of home filled his senses, not only the smell of his trailer which arguably was just old furniture and cigarette smoke but it also was the sight of the man who raised him. Wayne. 

“Wayne” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the man in front of him. He had spent so many years in La La Land running from reality, living in some parallel universe but he was finally here. It was unfortunate  that it took the death of one Mathew Davis to bring him back to earth but Eddie was back home.

 While Eddie was on the plane, drunk out of his mind, watching a grieving Jeff cry over his father, Eddie felt fear. That maybe he would return home, and find everything different and that he could be in Jeff’s position. Grieving over someone he left behind, but here was Wayne Munson, seemingly healthy but undeniably alive and still in his trailer. 

Like nothing had changed. 

“Eddie” Wayne smiled for half a second before bringing Eddie into his arms, hugging the boy who was a son to him. As swiftly as Wayne hugged him, he let go and folded his arms back to himself. A stern look settled in his face, like a wall being put up. Eddie felt something change, like he was about to be scolded for the first time in six years, Eddie stood awkwardly beneath the harsh stare of Wayne Munson. 

“So are you gonna let me in?” Eddie asked after a few seconds. Wayne, still silent, backed up, and moved to the side, letting Eddie into the trailer. 

Eddie surveyed his surroundings, everything was practically the same. There were some appliances that were changed out like the tv and the microwave, most likely bought from the money Eddie would send Wayne sometimes. Though the old couch that had cigarette burns was all the same. It was simply an old couch that many even Eddie would talk crap upon but Eddie could only feel happy at the sight of it. A wave of memories filled Eddie’s mind as he took in the sight of the old grandma couch and the smell of stale air. 

His first night with Wayne after his mom left,  A young small Eddie laying on the couch, finally asleep with dried tears on his face while Wayne covered him with a blanket. 

Then at age 12, sitting on the couch with the coffee table moved to be right in front of him while the boys sat on the carpet surrounding him. It was his first D&D game as a dungeon master.

 You and him at 15, making out on the couch, you on top then him on top, limbed intertwined. You and him at 16, cuddling and eating popcorn as Wayne sat on his usual chair, watching horror movies, with temporary smiles on all of your faces. 

Eddie stepped forward and sat on the couch, the cushion sinking in from the weight. His fingers grazed the side of the couch, but a bright shade of red caught his sight. Slightly poking out from underneath one of the pillows. Curiosity getting the best of him, Eddie reached and plucked out what seemed to be a red and black stuffed bunny. 

“Wayne, What the hell is this?” Eddie held up the stuffed animal with a few fingers showcasing it but Wayne quickly tore it from his fingers, as if Eddie had accidentally grabbed Wayne’s favorite pair of underwear.

 Eddie was confused by the sight of the stuffed animal in what was supposed to be a childless old man's home, but Eddie became even more put off by the fact that Wayne adjusted the bunny in his hands before setting it gently down next to the television as if it was some prized jewel. Eddie stared at Wayne with a look that begged him to explain his odd behavior along with the strange discovery.  

“It’s a gift for the Byers” Wayne explained but even after years apart, Eddie knew there was something off about Wayne. 

“The Byers?” Eddie titled his head in question, unbelieving of the explanation.

“Yes, Joyce Byers was telling me that Jonathan and his wife, Nancy, finally got pregnant. So i bought this as a gift” Eddie didn’t fully buy the explanation as last he remembered Jonathan Byers couldn’t even talk to a girl, let alone Nancy Wheeler, but it had been a long time. The same thing could have been said about him once. Though even with that explanation Eddie was still unsure, or maybe he was still hungover from the bottle he drank before getting on the plane to Hawkins. 

“Oh good for them then” Eddie smiled his usual smile but Wayne didn’t smile, or laugh or give him a funny remark, simply stared as if he was sizing him up. Eddie shrank into himself like he was fourteen again getting caught for stealing one of Wayne’s beers. Wayne sighed, and shook his head softly, preparing for the talk ahead. 

“What are you doing here, Ed?” sitting down next to Eddie with a face full of contempt. 

“Jeff’s dad died. Didn’t you hear?” Eddie didn’t understand Wayne’s reaction, Eddie didn’t expect a party but he half expected Wayne to be happy to see him. Though now it seemed like he wanted nothing more than Eddie out of his house. 

The distance between Eddie and Wayne now, with them in the same room seated on the same couch felt far greater than it did when they were 2,000 miles apart. Eddie knew some people in town wouldn’t be too excited to see him but he never anticipated Wayne’s reaction to be this cold. 

“I know that, prolly knew before you did. So that’s why you're here, for the funeral and then you're off again?” 

Eddie sighed, taking a look around the trailer, everywhere but at the older man. He knew why Wayne was upset now, it almost felt like deja vu for Eddie. It was his breakup with you all over again. Like you, Wayne seemed to be angry that Eddie followed his dreams, was able to get out of shithole Hawkins. It irritated Eddie, he had made it big but just like you, and Gareth and the rest of the boys, Wayne only seemed to care for Eddie’s failures more than his triumphs.  

“I don’t know why you make it seem so bad. I’m a rockstar Wayne” Eddie tried to reason with the older man but Wayne just let out a disbelieving scoff. 

“So I've heard. You're a rock star when it’s a holiday, when it’s a birthday, when you have a girl crying to you. You’re always a rock star” Wayne stood up from the couch and took a few steps away as if he couldn’t stand to be near his nephew in those moments.  

Eddie tried to ignore the pang of guilt he felt at the mention of you, but he only scoffed and directed any of his guilty feelings back at Wayne. “You didn’t seem to complain about me being a rock star when you needed a new tv, or you hurt your hand at work and needed to pay the bill. You're just mad I actually got out of this shithole unlike you” the venomous words fell out of Eddie’s mouth and there was no taking them back. 

Once again, Eddie Munson stood in his place in this trailer saying things he did not mean to someone who meant the world to him. Eddie had regretted the things he said to you the second he said them, and once again he felt the familiar regret seep into his body and make his heart ache and his throat thick. Just like before, he didn’t try to apologize, and simply sat there, dumbfounded by his own words. 

Wayne seemed unfazed, almost predicting this of his nephew. If the words did hurt, Wayne didn’t let it show. Though his disappointment in the boy in front of him was clear as day, practically emanating off his stoic form. 

Wayne shook his head in disbelief  “I always knew you were thick in the head, boy, but I thought I had raised you to be better than this. I ain't mad that you made it, I'm proud that you got out of this shithole. I’m just mad that you never came home, not once did you look back. I was waiting for you to. if i had known that someone dying would’ve brought you home, i would’ve died years ago.” 

The words hit Eddie harder, another shot hitting his heart as an ache grew all over his chest, and like blood a new found guilt seeped into his body. Eddie’s anger deflated as he simply watched as Wayne began to move around the trailer seeming to collect things. Eddie had no words for Wayne, not knowing what to say or what he could say to fix things. Eddie didn’t think there was anything that could make up for how he made Wayne feel. 

“Wayne” Eddie tried but Wayne didn’t seem to care what he had to say. Lifting up a hand as he put on a jacket and slung a lunch bag decorated in a few stickers over his shoulder. 

“It doesn't matter, Eds. Your home now, just don’t drink any of my beers and we’ll be fine until you go” Wayne sounded tired, but he only moved toward the door trying to get away from his nephew. Eddie stood up as if he was gonna follow him but he didn't move from his place or say a word, frozen. “I gotta go to work. I’ll see you later”

“Work? What happened to your night shifts?” Eddie asked, the question was genuine as Eddie had only ever known Wayne to work night shifts, but Eddie also knew it was just an excuse to keep Wayne around just a little bit longer. To try and find the words to fix what he had destroyed. 

“Things change.” Wayne said dejectedly, opening the door to try to leave but as if Eddie’s time was running out he asked one more thing abruptly. Eddie didn’t know why he asked, why it was the first thing to fall from his lips, he just knew he needed to know before Wayne left for work. 

 “Wait. Wayne, before you go. Can I-I— Do you- Um do you know if she still lives around here? Or anything about her?” Eddie asked with a pleading look in his eyes, he didn’t even know if he wanted to know. What if you were terrible, unhappy and alone without him? Or what if it was the opposite, what if you were perfectly happy and even better without him? He wasn’t sure which he preferred, they both made him want to cry. 

Wayne stopped and turned around to look at Eddie, this time all the stoicness of Wayne Munson left and only a look of disappointment and resentment showed clear on his face.  

“I may have sat on that couch waiting for you to come home, but that doesn't mean she did. Not all of us can wait six years. Like I said, things change, Eddie” 

Yeah, Eddie Munson was starting to get that. 

Eddie had stood in his place for longer than he wanted to admit, after the exchange he had with Wayne he didn’t know what to do. He also hadn’t been home for years, he couldn’t just go back to smoking in his room or playing his guitar. He couldn’t hang with the boys as they were all probably hanging out with their own families, most likely having a better welcome home than Eddie had received. They actually visited their families in the past six years. 

Eddie walked around the trailer mindlessly, smiling at the memories but frowning at all the changes in his family home. The tv, the microwave, the ripped stitch in Wayne’s old chair had been fixed, there was no longer a dinner chair that rocked because it was uneven. It had all been replaced. 

Eddie’s eyes stopped when he reached  the refrigerator seeing a drawing. It wasn’t the best drawing clearly drawn by a child, it was all stick figures. One was a stick figure of a man with three hairs coming out of his head, Eddie let out a chuckle when he read the name above the figure. 

‘Wayne’

What confused Eddie were the other two figures, one of a young girl with their loops on her head, she wore a red dress and was holding on to the stick figure of Wayne and another stick figure of a woman with a blue dress. The words ‘Izzy’ and ‘mommy’ written over their heads. 

Eddie looked back to the red and black bunny that sat proper next to the television. Did Wayne have a lady friend that he never told him about? Eddie thought to himself. 

 Eddie was unsure of his idea, but he hoped it might be true. It would mean Wayne wasn’t alone all these years. Eddie chose to ignore the drawing for now, hoping to question Wayne for answers when he got home. He was about to reach inside for a beer when he remembered Wayne’s words not to drink any of his beers. Usually, Eddie would have ignored the request, and simply would have taken one and laughed it off later when Wayne would scold him, but that was a long time ago. Wayne was never this angry at Eddie before, he didn’t want to push it, especially if he had a chance to make it better. 

So Eddie closed the refrigerator door, and reached for his rental car keys in his pocket. Melvalds would still be around, while things were sure different now. There was no chance Hawkins would get rid of one of its only few stores, there had to be a place for all these people to get a pack of cigarettes and beers. 

Eddie was about to be on his way when the phone rang, like if he was a teenager once again Eddie reached for the phone answering in his usual jokingly manner “Munson Residence” 

The line was silent. “Hello?” Eddie asked but no answer, the line then quickly cut off before Eddie had the chance to ask if anyone was there. Eddie waited for a few seconds, maybe it was a bad line and they would call again but nothing.

 Eddie shook off the interaction making his way out of the door, back to his previous plans. 

After the proposal, you felt as if you were in a daze, far from reality. You had heard from some of your friends that the prospect of getting married was ‘an unreal experience’ though you were unsure if this is what they meant. When you went to pick up Izzy from Wayne’s that night, you hadn’t said anything, you even took off the bright engagement ring from your finger for those few minutes. 

You didn’t not want to get married but thought you should at least feel overjoyed. Now in this moment though, as you had a half eaten plate of waffles and fruit in front of you, you knew you had to talk to your favorite person. Who was currently sitting right in front of you, with a sticky face from all the syrup of her pancakes, who was currently begging for the milkshake she was promised. 

“Once you are finished with your food, I will order the shake. Just eat now, sweet pea” You explained softly, but as you watched as the little girl stuffed her face with another giant bite of food. You couldn't help the laugh that fell from your lips at the sight 

“Okay maybe eat a little slower” You leaned forward to wipe her face with a napkin, feeling slightly lighter now that you looked at her. 

Izzy was the light of your life for the past six years, your reason for getting up in the morning, the reason you could smile in the darkest of moments. Even before she was born she helped you get through your first heartbreak and even after she was born, you knew you could never love anything as much.You wanted her to be as happy as she made you, everything you did was for her. Which is probably why this conversation was so hard to start.You knew she wouldn’t mind a father but would she like having Adam as her father?

You were unsure how to approach the conversation with someone so young. This wasn’t just a life change for you but for her as well. Izzy had met Adam before but only a few times, and you still didn’t know how she felt about ‘mommy’s friend’. 

You had been hesitant for a while for Izzy to meet Adam, he had known you were a mother but you feared actually meeting her would change everything, especially if Izzy didn’t like him. It wasn’t until the 10th date that he had briefly met Izzy, he had greeted her when he was picking you up for a date. He had brought you a bouquet of flowers that Izzy had just loved.  

So the second time had been a much more formal greeting, where he had introduced himself, giving her a much smaller bouquet of flowers asking her if he could take her mommy out for dinner. The girl too mesmerized by the flowers said yes but you could tell she was a bit reluctant to see you go with the man she barely knew. The few other times the three of you had time together was when he had breakfast with you and Izzy one morning after he and you spent the night together. Izzy had never been a shy child but she seemed to become one around Adam, never speaking to him directly. She seemed to grow more comfortable after the three of you went out one night for his annual family christmas party. Though it was more likely to have to do with Adam’s family dog than Adam himself. 

“So sweet pea, you know mommy’s friend Adam right?” You broached delicately, moving to sit closer to her in the diner booth. 

She hummed but didn’t seem to pay attention to you, only focusing on finishing her pancakes. “He smells funny,” she said absentmindedly, finishing a bite. You chuckled lightly, understanding she meant Adam’s love and slight overuse of cologne. 

“Yes he does smell funny” You agreed before broaching the subject. “Ho-How would you feel if Adam was around a little more?” You tried to read your daughter’s face but you weren’t even sure she would understand what you meant. 

She tilted her head in thought, her lips pursing to the side deep in thought. “Like Grandpa Wayne?” She asked before eating her final piece of pancake. 

You let out a fake awkward laugh “No no, sweet pea. More like a daddy” You cringed as you spoke the words, your body stiffening in preparation for her response.  Your daughter looked at you surprised, you tried to smile but you were definitely not expecting what she would do next. She laughed. 

“You so silly mommy. Adam don’t look like daddy” She only giggled and looked at you in disbelief, to say you were confused was a little to say the least. You tried to laugh with her but you were still unsure of what she meant. 

“What do you mean sweet pea?” You asked leaning closer to her as she stared at you with a smile, her fingers moving her hair away, something you noticed, knowing she would have to take a bath later. 

“Daddies got long hair, curly like mine. I remember. Adam don’t have that. He has short hair.” She explained as if it was the most obvious thing but it only made your chest ache. 

You understood now, she was talking to her about her real father and now you knew she was confused because of you. You had mistakenly shown Izzy a photo of her father and you from highschool. 

It was after her first week of school, she had come home crying that everyone else had ‘daddies’ but she only had a ‘mommy’ which is when you explained to her that her daddy was ‘far away’ and showed her the photo. It was of you both at seventeen in Hellfire shirts, his arms wrapped around your middle from behind as you looked up at him, dazed and in love and he looked at the camera, smiling. Ironic.

“Well I- Iz. Your daddy– He–. Remember when I said that daddy was far away. He is still away, and Adam H-He is right here. He would be like a new daddy? ” Your voice broke slightly as you explained, admittedly it was probably a bad explanation but you didn’t know how to.When it came to your dad your mom only told you that he was in the sky, and you never had asked for her to elaborate but you came to understand what that meant with age. 

Izzy only stared at you with a confused expression, her lips pursed once again. You could tell she didn’t fully understand what you meant by ‘away’ but she didn’t need to understand that her father was away because he didn’t want her or you. You barely understood yourself.

“But what if daddy comes back from twip” She tilted her head in question once again, she was only asking a genuine question in her mind. Though she didn’t understand how much she was breaking your heart. After you had initially told Izzy about her father and him being ‘Away’ she seemed to chipper up and became indifferent, but now you knew. She wasn’t indifferent because she stopped caring about having a father, she was still waiting for him to come back. 

You were now in Bob’s diner on the verge of tears, how were you supposed to explain it to her without hurting her feelings.Before you could find the right words, Izzy interrupted you. 

“I fink I forgot Ozzy, mommy” 

This caught you off guard, you had been so wrapped off in your thoughts and post-proposal daze that you hadn't even noticed that the bright red bunny that Izzy had humorously  named Ozzy was not attached to her or anywhere in sight. “Did you leave it at Grandpa Wayne’s?” 

“ I fink so” She said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. You looked at the clock on the diner wall, Wayne wouldn’t start work for a few minutes, maybe he could drop it off on his way? You thought to yourself.

 “Can I have my milkshake now?” Izzy, her eyes wide as she looked to you awaiting your answer for her favorite dessert. 

“Yeah Sweetpea, just let me call Grandpa Wayne. Maybe he can bring Ozzy” You put on a fake smile as you explained to her but honestly you needed to step away, to have a distraction. You knew this conversation with Izzy would be difficult but not this heart breaking.

 You took a deep breath and walked to the diner counter, you knew they would have a phone on the wall where you could call Wayne from. You also knew that Wayne could be of help when it came with conversations about absent parents to young children. 

The phone rang a few times and you were just about worried that Wayne had left for work and you would have to deal with a crying Izzy tonight, when the phone finally connected you felt a brief relief until the voice on the other line spoke. A voice you hadn’t heard clearly in years, and two words that made you feel like the earth had just shattered beneath your feet. “Munson Residence” 

It was like your vocal chords had been cut and you were frozen in place. “Hello?” the familiar  voice said again, you regained consciousness then. 

You looked to your daughter who was standing on her knees, her body stretched over the booth as she stared at you, awaiting her milkshake. You stiffly put the phone back on the receiver. You were practically shaking, as you walked back to the booth. 

“What happen mommy?” Your daughter noticed your shaking hands.You had forgotten your mother mentioned that Jeff’s father had passed but he never came back, even when all the boys did. Though he was here now. 

 “Nothing baby, nothing at all” You pulled out your wallet, setting money down as quickly as you could. You needed to leave, if he was back In Hawkins he would probably get lunch or dinner or breakfast. Bob’s Diner was his favorite place to eat when you were together, you were unsure if his tastes had changed but you were not going to risk finding out. 

“Come on, Sweetpea. Let’s go” You spoke to your daughter who only looked at you strangely. 

“But my milkshake mommy. You promithed” She whined, her lips coming to form a pout. Shit, you had forgotten about the milkshake. You could see the beginnings of a temper tantrum, so you kneeled down before your daughter. 

“I know I know. Um- How about we stop at Melvalds very very quick and I make you milkshake at home and if we make them at home, we can watch the little mermaid, how about that?” You tried to reason, after being a single mom for a few years you knew exactly how to make your daughter happy. You just needed out of this diner immediately. 

She sat in thought for a lot longer than you wanted to, but eventually agreed with an “Otay” and bounced her way out of the booth. 

Eddie Munson entered Melvalds with a ring at the door,  the sight of the store made Eddie happy that not everything had changed. It was still the same shade of blue and white, and teens were still making a mess in the chip aisle and it still played the same old 50s music. 

When Eddie was young he hated it, always wanting something good like Metallica or Black Sabbath, he even tried to convince the owner once but that only made him threaten to kick Eddie out or arrest him for loitering. Though for the first time Eddie was grateful for the boring music, it brought him a wave of nostalgia. 

Eddie made his way going straight for the beer aisle but the colorful section of candy caught his eyes. He stopped there, deciding maybe getting Wayne and himself some candy might be a good way to ease the tension. He looked for a pack of Swedish fish when a little voice spoke. 

“You look like my daddy” Eddie turned to the sight of a small girl, dressed in an overall dress, with curly hair and a missing tooth. She stared straight up at him with a smile, she was fidgety in her stance, almost bouncing in place, but she only stared at him with big bright eyes in awe. 

Eddie looked around the aisle, seeing no one else but the little girl in front of him. “I-I’m sorry.What?” 

“You” the young girl said with utmost confidence and a small finger pointed straight at him “look like my daddy” She said with more emphasis. 

Eddie laughed a nervous laugh, he kneeled down to the girls height to get a better look at the obviously confused girl. He couldn’t deny there was a slight resemblance but he wasn’t the only man with wild curly hair and brown eyes in the world. There's no way. Eddie thought.

“ I don’t think that’s possible, sweetie. I haven’t lived in Hawkins in over five years” Eddie tried to reason with the small child that he was indeed not her father, hoping she was just as confused as he was. 

“I’m almost six” She practically shouted at him with a cheeky grin on her face. One that Eddie hated to say looked familiar. She stuck her hands out, showing him six fingers. 

“Oh I— Well sweetie. I— That does not mean” Eddie tried to find a way to explain but then remembered she was a child, he looked around hoping to find the girl’s parents. A mother or even better a father, but besides a few teenagers, there was no one else. Eddie tried thinking of another solution, to try and get himself out of this situation “What is your daddy’s name?” 

This seemed to throw the young girl for a loop, her eyes widened and Eddie could see the gears in her mind turning as she twisted her mouth to the side. Which only made Eddie feel like he was looking into a mirror. Which only made Eddie feel more sick, but the denial in his mind was strong. There was only one way this child could be his, and well there was no way. Right? 

 Her small finger came to tap onto her chin, as she thought about it. “Um. I don’t member but my mommy told me a long time ago” She shrugged

Eddie smiled at the young girl but the twisting feeling in his gut didn’t subside. Eddie tried to find another way out of this uncomfortable situation, he thought that maybe he could just tell the young girl goodbye and be on his way but he still didn’t see a single person old enough to be a parent. While Eddie could admit he has been an asshole lately, he wasn’t that big of an asshole to leave a lost child alone. “Where is your mommy?” 

“She's buying me ice cream” The girl turned around and pointed at the cash register sign that read ‘Cashier 5’ 

 Though before Eddie could ask if he could walk her to her mommy, the voice of the mother seemed to begin calling “Izzy, did you pick out your candy?” 

Eddie knew that voice, it had been six years since he heard it but he undeniably knew that voice. He had dreamed about it often, and then there it was again “Izzy? Lets go” 

Then she appeared before him, the face he had dreamed of for years, for a second he thought he might be in another dream, but she looked older, more mature than in his dreams but still as beautiful as ever. Eddie only stared and smiled without thinking, while she stared at him with a look of shock and fear, both of them frozen before each other. He had wanted to see her for so long and now she was here in front of him. With a pint of ice cream in her hands? and a ring on her? Wait, did she say Izzy?

 Everything was finally coming together in his mind like lyrics to a melody. 

The two stared at each other still in shock, as if trying to find her words she only breathed out one. “Eddie” 

The two of them snapped out of their frozen daze when an abrupt loud voice of the little girl before them yelled in realization. 

“OH YEAH! That's my daddy’s name!” her large brown eyes stared at him, mirroring his own. 

Eddie Munson finally truly understood.

Things really do change. 

AN: I feel like I might have disappointed y'all with this part, but I promise there will be a lot more Eddie and reader in the next part but what do you guys think?

Please Like, Comment, & Reblog.

If your name is scratched out is because I could not find you on tumblr

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson #eddie munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #wayne munson

[flemingsfreckles]

Pretend We’re Good

Niamh Charles x Reader

Synopsis: based off this request!

Warnings: toxic behavior from both Niamh and Reader, suggestive at the end, fighting, angsty

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this is the first time I’ve written for someone other than Jessie, but I follow Niamh as a player so idk thought I’d give it a go.

Also shout out to whoever this anon was, this song is a banger and has found its way onto my driving to work playlist which I am extremely picky about, so thanks for the indirect song suggestion! 🫶

Seeing the match announcement was one thing, actually showing up and playing it was another.

Playing England was good preparation for the Olympics, they were a quality team, you knew that, but that meant you’d have to see Niamh. That meant you’d have to mark Niamh on the pitch. It meant you’d have to give her a silly handshake before the game and wish her good luck.

You and Niamh had a complicated history. You played at Liverpool together for a season before she left for Chelsea. You had always had a flirty friendship as teenagers but it never amounted to anything.

Then when she left for Chelsea, it broke your heart. Which made you realize how strong your feelings were for the girl, bawling when she said goodbye and then again at home in bed. For hours at a time you would remain motionless on your mattress, wishing she’d come back. You had been a mess for a couple weeks not knowing how to handle losing your best friend and the girl you had seemingly fallen in love with. The two of you kept in touch but it wasn’t comparable to seeing her everyday, to being her travel roommate, to being her bus buddy.

Then you got a call a season later. A call offering you a spot at Chelsea, you barely thought about it, the club's reputation, plus being back with Niamh, you easily said yes, signing your name on the line to become a blue.

Niamh was your first call, she was ecstatic about you joining the club. It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into your friendship and with the friendship came the oblivious flirting.

“You two are insufferable. Will you just admit you want to makeout.” Erin had teased the two of you. Her teasing, while not appreciating in the moment, had forced you and Niamh to actually sit down and talk about your feelings. You both admitted to wanting more than just a friendship and you went on your first official date after.

The next two years with Niamh were pure bliss. You played well together, you’d spend your holidays together, you met her family and she met yours.

Everything was good, until you became unhappy at Chelsea. You were progressively losing playing time to new signings, only seeing the pitch as a sub, it was impacting you heavily mentally and hurting your playing time internationally as well.

So when you got the offer to move to the NWSL, you took it. You took it and you didn’t tell Niamh until the day you confirmed the transfer.

You had broken the news at dinner in your apartment and an argument had quickly unfollowed.

“I can’t believe you’d just leave like that!” Niamh stood from the table grabbing her plate, not offering to clear yours like she typically would.

“I’m not happy here Niamh!” Niamh would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t know you were unhappy. She’d heard you rant and complain about your playing time, your struggles in training, and she had been supportive thought it all. She just never imagined you’d go as far as to leave her, to leave her and leave the country, the continent behind.

“What? I don’t make you happy?” She screamed across the room at you.

“You do! You’re the best thing I have here!” It was all you could yell back.

The defender grew quiet, looking at you with hurt eyes. “But I’m not enough, am I?” She asked quietly.

“Niamh.” You wanted to scream at her that this had nothing to do with her, she was the only reason you had stayed at this team so long. You had been given other offers but you thought maybe, somehow you’d end up with more playing time again and you’d go back to being happy where you were but that day never came.

“No, you should go, enjoy New York. Go where someone or something is enough for you.” She slammed the door behind her leaving you alone in your apartment.

The next day, your final day at Chelsea, you showed up, puffy eyed from crying instead of sleeping all night. It was quickly picked up on by the other girls, especially when Niamh didn’t come in with you, and she didn’t show up to training.

You gathered everyone in the conference room before film review. You stood up, explaining that while you loved the friendships and connections you’ve made here, to better yourself as a player it was time to move on. As you spoke you noticed Niamh slip in through the door, she looked just as rough if not worse than you did. Red cheeks, bloodshot eyes, her hair was a mess, she wasn’t dressed for training. You finished your speech before quickly saying goodbye to everyone all the girls lining up to hug you and wish you well, all the girls except Niamh who remained seated in the back of the room.

You left the facility shortly after, taking all your belongings with you before hurrying home. You were set to leave early the next morning, your belongings to be packed up by hired movers, anything you shared to be left with Niamh. You packed up just the essentials, enough to get you through the first week of your move before you could get settled.

You sent Niamh a text, asking if she wanted to come over for a bit, thinking you could talk it out, but you got no response. The next morning you hopped on a plane, having no idea if you were even still in a relationship with the girl.

It took a few weeks until you heard from her. A drunken phone call after they had won the league. A phone call that part of you wishes never came. You could tell from her first words that she must’ve been hammered, standing outside a loud nightclub or bar. Her voice brought back all of the feelings you had managed to push down for the past few weeks. Her proclamation of love over the phone, begging and pleading with you to forgive her for her stupid behavior. She begged to have you back in her bed, saying she missed the intimacy with you, the connection. She begged for a chance at long distance, to still be the one you wanted.

You never called her back. You weren’t even sure if she remembered calling.

And now here you were, standing less than an arms length away from her as you both stood waiting to enter the pitch. When you had stopped next to her, she had looked at you, when you made eye contact she gave you a small “hello” with a look of guilt across her face.

The game was easier, it was easy to forget she was there. She just looked like any other England player. You were able to push her from your mind, putting you more at ease than you had expected to be being this close to the woman after all that had happened.

It was after the game where you found yourself in uncomfortable waters with her. You had shaken her hand last, avoiding all eye contact. When Niamh tried to speak to you, you quickly dropped her hand and then made a b-line for the locker room.

“Please wait.” Her voice pleading with you as you heard her follow you down the tunnel.

“Niamh, no.” You don’t even turn back to look at her. You couldn’t, if you looked at her your body might convince you to hear her out.

“I don’t need you back, I just want closure, you deserve closure, I didn’t give you that.”

“Do you want closure or do you just want to feel less guilty for what you did to me?” You spit back at her, turning around you watch as her already guilty looking face twists into one of anger.

“You left the country with one days notice! Don’t blame this all on me!” She shouts back at you.

You sigh, you couldn’t believe this was happening. You and Niamh, standing less than three feet from each other, face to face for the first time since she left your apartment. You couldn’t determine your feeling, half of you wanted to grab her, kiss her hard and make up for all the time you two had missed out on. The other half of you was ready to shove her out of the way, leave here and hope you’d never have to play the Lionesses again. “And you walked out! You didn’t even try Niamh!”

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know where to start! It was such late notice. I didn’t know what to do, I loved you, I still love you.” She’s making eye contact so intense you can’t look away. This is exactly what you feared. Unable to hold back from the girl you start rambling.

“I still love you too Niamh, you think I don’t? You’re the only reason I stayed Niamh, because I loved you so fucking much, I couldn’t leave you, until playing for Chelsea became so unbearable, I had to leave to save myself, I was ready to quit.” You feel the tears on your face, suddenly very aware that you were crying.

You had only expressed how miserable you were to Niamh on the day you told her your contract was signed. She didn’t know you were on the verge of quitting, giving up on your love for the game.

You notice some of your teammates starting to filter into the tunnel. You and Niamh both stop talking as they pass by. Catarina slows down as she walks by, you try and duck your face to hide the tears. She looks between you and Niamh, giving you both a sympathetic smile before she moves on.

“Quit?” Niamh's face matches the look of your empathetic teammates in the tunnel.

You nod, avoiding making eye contact with Niamh, not wanting her to see right through you. She could always read you, she knew, you expressed your emotions too well through your eyes.

“I didn’t know it was that bad. Why didn’t you tell me?” Niamh grabs your hand, you start to pull it away but the feeling of her hand in yours again makes your stomach flutter so you leave it. “I don’t know what I can do. But,” you feel her squeeze your hand. “I want you back, or I want you again, I’m not sure I lost you, ever I don’t know what we were doing for those few months. Please?”

“We weren’t together during those months.” Sure you never confirmed a break up but you had decided not hearing from her meant you were no longer a couple. But you also hadn’t started seeing other people, the feelings of Niamh still too fresh.

“No, I know, it’s just we never broke up.”

“Niamh, I don’t know.”

“Please don’t make me beg. Even if it’s just a night? Just dinner or drinks, I’ll pay, or we can go to my place and I’ll let you yell at me, or tell me everything I did wrong, or we can just sit, whatever, just one night, me and you can we pretend we’re good? Pretend we’re something again? Go back to how it was?”

“Niamh.” You breathed out. You knew you shouldn’t. You knew both of your behaviors were toxic, you leaving with little notice and her storming out and drunkenly calling you begging for you back. You two shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t, but you wanted to. You loved her still.

You wanted to have a night with her, a date, an afternoon, something! In reality you wanted her for the rest of your life. You missed her hugs, you missed the way she kissed you, you missed the way you’d sing in the car together despite both having less than excellent voices. You missed falling asleep next to her. You missed her body on yours. You missed getting up early to make her coffee or tea and bringing it to her in bed, the way she’d sit up to sip it with crazy bed head. You missed everything about her.

You missed her and this was your chance to have her again. Even if it was just to pretend, for a night.

Niamh must’ve been able to tell you were pondering. She didn’t plea with you anymore, she didn’t beg again. She just waited patiently, studying your face, the face she’s been longing for.

“Okay. One night, like we used to be.” You finally give in.

“Really?” Niamh’s face lights up at your answer. A smile across her lips. “Okay, I’ll pick you up from your hotel? Can we have dinner? Or just drinks? Or I don’t know.”

“That sounds good.” Drinks and dinner would be harmless, a good way for the two of you to talk, in public, keep it civil.

When Niamh picked you up she was dressed up. You thankfully had dressed up as well. Subconsciously when you packed, you threw in a nice matching lace set, which you had put on underneath a simple shirt and nice pants. She had gotten out of the car to open the passenger side door, something she did when you were together.

“Thank you. Thank you for agreeing to this.” She said one back in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah.” You clasped your hands in your lap, when you were together you’d have your hand on her thigh or her hand in yours, today you kept them to yourself.

“I was thinking dinner?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I haven't eaten yet.”

Niamh nods before starting to drive to dinner. She pulls into an Italian restaurant, one the two of you had frequented while together.

When you sat down Niamh ordered a glass of wine, before looking at you. “Would you like one?”

“Yeah that'd be great.” you order the same wine as Niamh. When the glasses come Niamh holds hers up, tapping it to yours before you both take a sip and fall into silence.

You break the silence first.

You apologize for leaving on such short notice. You apologize for not telling her that you were considering leaving. You apologize for not expressing how you were feeling, truly upset at Chelsea. You apologize for never calling her, for never reaching out. You apologize for everything.

Niamh just sits, listening to you, really listening. She doesn’t interrupt, she just sits, making eye contact when you look at her. You find yourself looking away most of the time, feeling embarrassed as you list all the poor behavior, all the places you went wrong.

When you’re done, you sit back looking across the table at Niamh. Thankfully your food had arrived just as you finished apologizing and you were able to occupy the silence by eating. As you start to eat, Niamh begins to speak. She hasn’t started to eat and she’s hardly looked at the pasta in front of her.

“Niamh.” You interrupt, it was rude but you wanted to ensure she knew she could eat. “Please eat, we can talk after, don’t let it get cold.”

She nods, picking up her fork and swirling it into her meal. You eat for the most part in silence. Niamh asks a few questions about your new place in New York, your new team. When you tell her it’s going well, you’re playing more, you are often in the starting IX she replies with “I know.” When you told her you scored in your first game with them, she replies the same “I know.”

You look at her. “You keep up with me?”

“Of course I do.” She says. “I watch your games, I keep up with you, you have me rooting for you all the way across the pond. I, uh, I have your jersey.”

“Really?” You definitely didn’t expect her to own a jersey of yours. You had a couple of her Chelsea jerseys and you knew she had a couple of your old Chelsea ones as well, you just didn’t expect her to buy a new one, for your new team after what happened.

“Yeah.” She sighs.

She then begins an apology list of her own. She apologizes first for the drunken call. She had remembered doing it. She apologized for storming out on you, she apologized for ignoring you when you said your goodbyes to the team. She apologized for not reaching out, something you were both guilty of.

“I do still love you.” She ends her apology with those words.

“I still love you Niamh.” You can’t help it, you loved this woman, everything about her.

You don’t get to follow up on what that meant for either of you as the waiter comes with the bill, Niamh grabbing it before you can, when you let out a pouting huff, she just gives you a glance.

“Please it’s the least I can do, plus I asked you to this.”

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “But I get the next one.”

“The next one?” Niamh’s face breaks into a small smile, just creeping on her lips. “As in, another time?”

“If that’s something you want to do?”

“Yeah.” She says. “Does that mean, we’re…” she points a finger between the two of you.

You knew it was maybe too soon to let her back in, too soon for both of you but you really didn’t care. Sitting here being able to see her, hear her, admire her, made you miss every inch of her. You wanted her back, you needed her back. Long distance would be something to figure out, but not right now, right now you had her in front of you, within reach.

You’re not sure what to call yourselves yet, so you nod. “If that’s something you want too.”

“Yeah.” The waiter comes back to the table to give Niamh her card back. You both thank him before leaving the restaurant and heading to her car. Niamh goes to open your car door, just just barely cracks it when you push it closed.

“Hey!” She turns back to scold you, coming face to face with each other.

“Hi.” You breath out practically whispering, this was the closest you two had been in a non-match situation in months. Your faces inches from each other. You look at her eyes, temporarily getting lost in their beautiful blue color. Your trance is broke by her blinking a few times. Your eyes fall to her lips and then back to her eyes. Niamh gets the hint and brings her hands up around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer.

“Is this okay?” She asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You find yourself leaning in, pressing your lips to hers, they feel better than you remember, you can feel your love for her flooding through your body, your hairs standing on edge, its electric and soft and it feels safe. You were kissing Niamh. Your Niamh. The love of your life, the girl you had waited for, the girl who was with you through your teenage years and into young adulthood. This was your girl, she was yours, you promised to never let her go again.

You kiss for a second, your front gently pressed to hers as her back is leaned up against the car. It’s a passionate kiss, both of you pouring months of built up feelings into it. When you break away you can’t hide the smile across your face and by the looks of it neither can Niamh.

“I love you.” You say.

“I love you.” She then turns opening the door again, you let her this time and you get into the car. When she climbs in the drivers seat she asks where to.

“Yours?” You suggest. “I can think of a few more ways we can make up for lost time.” You give her a wink and Niamh gets the hint, quickly starting the car in the direction of her apartment. It only takes a few turns before her hand finds its way to your upper thigh, giving it a hard squeeze.

Sure it wasn’t the healthiest way of working out your problems together, but it worked, you both got your frustrations out, you were able to express your emotions, show how much you missed each other, how much you loved each other, and by the time morning came the two of you had decided you were back together.

Girlfriends, just long distance ones.

#niamh charles #Niamh Charles x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #niamh charles imagine #lionesses x reader

[zanarkandskylines]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ sidekicking at dynamight's agency turns out to be more rewarding than anticipated.

cw // age gap (mid 20s & early 40s), mentions of divorce & a child, suggestive, not proof read ⇢  k.bakugo masterlist

You’re a new sidekick at Bakugo’s agency, a mid-20 something who transferred from another prefecture after moving across the country. He’s in his early 40s, a well seasoned pro hero with plenty of experience under his belt and a successful agency to top off his accomplishments.

Unfortunately, he’s divorced with a kid that his ex-wife hoards from him. Sometimes, his son comes by the agency after school if his mom doesn’t show to get him - one of his assistants walks him home if he’s not in the office himself. It’s a messy situation that everyone chooses not to question him about, including the media. All it took was one stupid pap to ask him about his failed marriage to scare the ever loving shit out of anyone from asking again.

He’s not looking for anything or anyone, hasn’t been on a date in years, avoiding anything to do with “love” by busying himself with work, trying not let any of the dread sink in. His heart is too broken from the divorce and all the shit he went through with his devil of an ex-wife. It often kept him awake at night, adding to the bags under his eyes and the silver highlights in his ashy mane.

And then, there’s you. You’re a firecracker in disguise, passionate and determined to be the best damn hero at the agency. One day, you’re training in the office gym with the other sidekicks and become frustrated with them, unsatisfied with their bland routine. You wanted a challenge when training, something to keep you progressing and not plateauing. Stomping up to Bakugo’s office in the middle of the day, you bang on the door a few times impatiently, hands on your hips when he finally opens the door.

“Newbie? The hell do you want?” He grumbles, crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest. Even in his early 40s, he looks damn good, the perfect buff dad body. It may be littered with scars and stretch marks from weight fluctuation over the years, but he viewed them as badges of honor.

“The sidekicks downstairs are boring with training and I need something better. I’m not gonna stay stagnant with those rookies. I need a better trainer.”

Bakugo glares daggers at you, for both insulting the other sidekicks and interrupting his focus on the stacks of paperwork sitting on his desk.

“So you decided complain’ to the boss that provides the training was the smart thing to do?”

You huff, rolling your eyes and take a step closer to him. “No, Dynamight. I want you to train me. I need the best of the best to be an asset to your agency.”

The way you emphasize ‘I want you’ makes him flinch - a phrase he hasn’t heard in years.

“Ya think I have time to train with a sidekick?” He scoffs, ready to shut the door on you when you grab his wrist, making him jump from the contact. Your eyes lock onto his and a chill runs down his spine at your next demand.

“You’re gonna have to make time.”

That marks the day that you, the newest recruit, left the one and only Katsuki Bakugo speechless. He wanted nothing more than to laugh you off and shut the door, but he hurriedly whispered “Fine, tomorrow at 5am” against his better judgement, then slammed the door.

And thus began the tradition of training with your boss twice a week. It was rigorous, as you expected, but you were more than capable of keeping up with his pace. After a few weeks, he stopped acting grumpy about it and started complimenting your progress. You’ve gotten multiple reports back from other heroes saying they’ve seen an improvement in your work, and how you’ve been extending that to the other sidekicks.

What happened the next morning is something Bakugo still can’t fathom, nor did he think he could ever feel something like it again.

It’s 5am, a regular training session in the agency gym - like always. Today, he’s got you working on your hand to hand combat, focusing on grapples, pins and guarding. He encourages you to go all out, and you do, resulting in sweeping his legs out from under him to knock him on his ass. He’s about to say something snarky like “lucky shot” when you steal the breath from his lungs by following up by pinning him to the ground, straddling his hips and gripping his wrists above his head, chest pressed against his as you hover inches from his face, huffing with sweat trickling down your forehead.

Bakugo's mind goes blank and all his focus shifts to your body contact. All he can think about is the pressure of your fingers snaked around his wrists, the plush of your chest squished up against his own, how your thighs are clenched on his hips and the sensation of your ankles tucked against his thighs. He can feel his face heating up, and his groin, unable to look away or run off somewhere to hide. He's somewhat thankful you have his wrists pinned, elsewise he may have...no, he can't think about that.

"...hello? Earth to Dynamight?" you call at him, releasing one of his wrists to wave your hand in his face. "You okay? You're looking a little pale."

He violently shakes his head, clearing his throat before muttering, "M'fine, now get off'a me."

He scoots backward on the gym mat when you leave his personal bubble, tucking his legs up to his chest with his head on his forearms. He doesn't notice that he's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and has broken out into a cold sweat. You're standing there, dumbfounded, and decide to call it off for the morning.

"Well, I'll let you get to work or whatever it is you gotta do. Sorry for knocking you on your ass so hard, Dy-"

"Y'can call me Katsuki, you know. S'not always strictly hero names around here."

Where the fuck did that come from? You barely know her.

You grace him with a smile, tilting your head sweetly. "Thanks, Katsuki. I'll see ya later." And off you go, skipping to the locker room to wash up for your shift later in the morning.

What the fuck was that?

Bakugo's stuck sitting on the mats a little while longer, desperately waiting for himself to cool off like a horny high school teenager. He's got a million thoughts running through his head, and the one at the forefront is you in the same exact position, only...

...No.

He can't think of you like that.

Can he?

Shit, he didn't even talk to you outside of mandatory meetings before this training bullshit. But he can't deny you're attractive, and your personality only makes you that much hotter to him.

And so, Bakugo walks into the shared locker room, purposefully locks the door and turns on one of the showers, as hot as he could manage. His back begins to redden from the pressure and temperature of the jet stream as he rested his forearm against the tile. Soon enough, all thoughts of you cumulated into the drain at his feet, ejected from his body and taken care of.

Until the next morning, where he finds you sitting at his desk with two coffees.

"Mornin'! Brought you a 'sorry I kicked your ass' apology coffee. Your assistant said you like it black, hope she was right!"

Shit.

tags; @slayfics @maddietries @starieq @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

#he plagues my brain every single day #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #☆.rei writes

[luveline]

i feel like the kbd girls would be absolutely over the moon about blue toilet water, steve’s little home improvement promotes him to coolest dad ever, and sweet bethie wants to invite her friend over to show off their cool blue toilet water

(i just remember thinking that was like the coolest thing ever as a kid)

Steve doesn’t hide his smile. “Girls, it’s not gonna be as exciting as you think it is.” 

Avery, Beth, and Dove sit in a line on the bathroom floor, watching. 

“It’s gonna be blue, dad,” Avery says. “That’s exciting.” 

“Sort of weird having you all watch me clean the toilet.” He’d bleached and scrubbed and bleached again, and now he’s wiped down the tank and removed the lid, he’s peeling open the blister pack for the blue cistern tablets. 

“Gross,” Bethie says with a wrinkled nose. 

“It is kind of gross, but that’s why I clean it so much. Okay, are you guys ready? I’m gonna drop it in.” 

They all stand at once to crowd him. Steve tosses a tablet into the cistern and grins as the water turns blue immediately. His fingers are stained with it. He replaces the lid and rinses his fingers before he forgets. 

“Okay. Ready?” 

They all agree in their ways. Avery slaps her hands together and nods, Bethie says, “Yeah!” and Dove attempts to climb his leg like a sloth up a tree trunk. 

“Wait!” Bethie says, tapping Steve’s stomach and running out of the bathroom. Her feet thud across the landing and into your room. 

She drags you into the bathroom by the hand. “Okay, now you can, dad!” 

Steve meets your eyes. “You ready? This is about to change our lives.” 

You look around the upstairs bathroom in surprise. “Woah, what happened in here? It looks like a hotel. Did you scrub the grout? Incredible.” 

“Mom!” Avery yanks you by your shirt to the toilet. Too many people in one place, you smush in next to Steve and he gives you a flirty smile on instinct. “Dad, please do it. I can’t wait anymore.” 

“It’s really gonna let you guys down.” Steve stands at full height and reaches for the flush. 

He presses it. Blue water floods the bowl and, despite the girls having seen exactly how he managed it, they all gasp. Dove giggles wildly against his leg before she reaches her hand toward the water, fingers a hairs width from the bowl when you catch her and drag her up into your arms. 

“Oh no no no,” you say sweetly, turning her to see everyone, “we can’t do that, can we? We don’t put our hands in the toilet.” 

“Wow,” Beth says. “Wow. Dad, it’s magic. Now we can have blue pee.” 

“That’s not how that works, bug.” Steve takes Beth by the shoulders for a quick squeeze, then touches Avery’s, trying to get them to move on. 

“It’s really cool, I love it. Can we have other colours?” Avery asks. Dove squeals in your arms to be put down, but you’re tickling her sides in an attempt to appease her. 

“I’ve only seen blue ones,” Steve says, reluctant to let her down. 

Avery looks exactly like him as she frowns. “Oh.” 

“Can I ask Francesca to come?” Beth asks suddenly, nudging Avery out of the way to look up at him. “Please, dad, can she come look? It’s amazing.” 

“Oh, honey, I think Francesca’s probably seen it before. But we can still ask her tomorrow if she wants to come over, okay? When the rest of the house is clean, not just the bathroom.” 

“Fat chance,” you interject quickly, snorting. 

“Excuse me?” Steve asks. 

You laugh again and dive away as he pokes your side. “Get away from me, freak. I almost dropped my baby.” 

“I can clean this whole house top to bottom in a day. I could do it in my sleep,” Steve says. 

“Sure thing, honey.” 

Avery pokes you in the stomach. “Not nice, mom.” 

“Not nice, mom,” Steve parrots, grinning. “Wow, look at that. This blue toilet water brought us all together.” 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[nervoussagittarius]

a stoners dream

dealer!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris is your new drug dealer, and after a flirty meet up you two decided to take your relationship a step further

warnings: language, fluff, smut, mentions of drugs, oral (male receiving)

you grew up around smokers. you used to hear the stories from you dad and all of his friends about doing crazy stuff when they were young and high. you weren’t unfamiliar with the addictive substance, so when you wanted to try it for the first time they were who you went to.

since moving out you’ve had to take charge and find your own methods to get your fix. you’ve had many different dealers, mostly your friends who buy from a distributor, but it wasn’t until recent that you were put in contact with a stranger. your best friend, kat, had met chris at a party he was dealing at. she knew you were in need of a new dealer, and in need of a hot guy in your life, so she got you his card.

that leads you to where you are now, 2am, mind racing, can’t sleep, and out of weed. not a good mix. your introverted side told you to not reach out. you could’ve just waited until you could buy from a friend, but you were none the less intrigued but this “sexy dealer” kat was telling you about. so you texted him.

y/n-

hey i’m y/n

my friend kat said she met you at a party and gave you my name

i need to buy

almost instantly you got a response.

new dealer-

hey princess

i’m chris

what can i do for you??

you told him what you wanted and 30 minutes later you heard a knock on your apartment door. you opened it to find a man, probably early twenties, in a matching sweat set, and wearing a beanie. your jaw could’ve dropped at the sight and you swore you felt your core start dripping. kat was right when she said he was sexy. you found his hooded eyes, that pulled together his look, taking in your body. you couldn’t help the blush that came over your face. “hey, are you chris?” you asked opening your door farther. “no, i’m just some random fucking guy standing here at three in the morning.” he replied throwing you a wink.

“okay sassy.” you said as you welcomed him into your apartment. taking in his mannerisms, you noticed how he walked and carried himself. there was a confidence around him that wasn’t cocky. it made him even more attractive. he looked around your home for a second before turning to you. it wasn’t until now that you noticed how close the two of you were standing, faces inches apart. staring at eachother, you let out a small sigh.

finally getting a grasp on the situation you asked quietly, “how much do i owe you?” chris looked at you up and down before grabbing the edges of your hoodie pocket to pull you closer to him. your arms reached out instinctively to steady yourself. you hands rested on his chest, not that either of you were complaining. he slipped a small baggie from his pocket to yours in a swift motion. even the smallest touch from him sent shivers down your spine. he pressed his hand to your face and realigned your eyes with his. “it’s on me. think of it as a discount for being a first time customer. a reason for you to come back to me.” he placed a short peck on your cheek before he was out your door. almost no time went by before you received a text.

new dealer-

see you later sweetheart

you let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, and ran a hand through your hair. you were in trouble.

a week went by before you had to text chris again. you tried to put it off as long as you could, almost hoping you’d find someone else to buy from. to be completely honest, you weren’t sure how long you could control yourself around chris. he was undeniably attractive and after your last little encounter it was going to be hard to keep your hands off of him.

you only heard from him once after he had texted when he left that night. it was a simple conversation, he had just asked if you needed anything. you didn't have it in you to reply. you would have asked him for something that wasn't appropriate for your weed dealer to give you. tonight you really did need your fix though.

y/n-

hey you able to bring me an ounce tonight?

hot dealer chris-

gotcha baby

baby. he called you baby. he's called you a few nicknames in the short time you've known him, but this one hit different. this one made your stomach flutter with butterflies. there was no explanation to why you felt this way. it was just chris. he's just selling you weed. that's it.

a knock sounded before you heard your door open. "oh so you're just letting yourself in now. what if i wasn't here? what if i wasn't dressed?" you said with a laugh. you really didn't care, you just wanted to give him a hard time. "you being undressed gives me way more of a reason to let myself in. fuck outta here," chris's blue eyes brightened under the lights in your kitchen. "i got your stuff for you, ma."

he followed you through your apartment as you went to grab your wallet. "how much do i owe you." chris gave you a 'really' look. "what?" you asked confused. "who said you're paying me? i didn't say that." you were really confused now. you didn't understand why he wouldn't let you give him money.

"why can't i pay you?" you said making your way over to him. standing in front of him, you slowly ran your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck. you don't know what had gotten into you, you felt a burst of confidence. maybe it was the bit of weed coursing through your body. maybe it was just chris's presence. you weren't sure.

you felt chris's hands on your waist pulling you closer, if that was even possible. his head leaned down, and you could feel his breath fan across your face. "i can think of a couple ways for you to pay me, baby. none of them include your money though." chris whispered. his lips faintly brushed across yours. you could assume it was an accident, but you didn't want to. "you're too pretty to pay for weed." he said.

"chris. you can't just give me this for free." "yes i can. i make my own fucking rules." at this point you couldn't argue with his logic. especially not when his lips were placing soft kisses to your neck. you almost let out a soft moan when his hand snaked up to grip the side of your throat. you quickly got enough self control to step away from the situation at hand.

you swore you could've cum at the sight in front of you. chris stood there with blown out pupils and a white muscle tee. you didn't have to look very hard to see the outline of his dick in his sweatpants. it was impressive how he could make you feel this way without even knowing it. "please let me give you something." you said after completing your staring. chris walked back over to you, he stopped his leaning to see any amount of hesitation in your eyes. the slight nod of your head was all he needed to finally connect your lips.

you don't know how long you stood there. your mouth's fighting for dominance as you both ran your hands over each other, savoring the feeling of the others body. chris's hands reached down to palm your ass as yours played with the waistband of his pants. you reached down to teasingly palm his growing erection. he let out a soft groan, finally disconnecting your mouths, you caught your breath before lowering to your knees in front of chris. "are you sure?" he asked as he softly brushed your hair out of your face. you looked at him through your eyelashes and gave him an almost devious smile.

you gestured for him to take his shirt off before kissing your way down his torso. paying extra attention to his v line slowing your pace to tease him. his eyes rolled back slightly as he watched you use your teeth to untie his pants. "you really want this?" you asked knowing the answer but trying to prolong the process.

chris nodded aggressively. he took the back of your head in his hand and pushed your face into his erection. you decided to stop teasing him and you slowly pulled down his pants and boxers in a skilled motion. his dick sprung out hitting him in the stomach. he grabbed it before you could and pumped it quickly. you took chris's hand in your own before spitting on his tip and using your free hand to spread you saliva on his length.

you never thought chris would be the vocal type, but every sound from him was encouragement to keep going. chris took his hand out of yours and pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail. you hastily took his cock in your mouth and caught him by surprise when you slammed him to the back of your throat. chris let out a loud moan while you kept his member still for a second.

his stuttered breath quickened when when you took him out of your mouth and licked from the base of his cock to the tip. "god. you- fuck." chris couldn't make out a full sentence causing you to try to giggle at him, a task proving to be challenging with his cock down your throat. his hips started to gently rock into you. you pulled your mouth off with a pop and looked up at him. "use me." you said. chris quickly pulled himself together just enough to understand what you were saying.

chris gave you a look of denial as you braced yourself by placing your hands on his thighs. you looked up at him as you opened your mouth widely. chris caught on to what you wanted and took no time to thrust himself into your lips. his hands gripped your hair as you felt tears well in your eyes from the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat. "fuck baby just like that," his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his balance faltered ever so slightly. "i'm not going to last much longer."

you took control back by stopping his movements and returning to your original method of bobbing your head and using one of your hands to cup his balls. his breathing picked up and his groans got louder soon after. you felt him twitch in your mouth before letting his ropes of cum fall down your throat. you took all of him, using your tongue to clean up every drop he gave you. you pulled your mouth off of him and used the heal of your palm to wipe your eyes,

chris slowly recovered from his fucked out state. making your way off the floor you saw chris start to pull up his boxers and sweatpants. you made your way to your bedroom door before calling out behind you to him. "come smoke with me when you're done." he let out a low laugh before watching you leave the room completely.

taglist:

@norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt @luvr4miya @hpyjw @unbruisable @watercolorskyy @elliewrites1 @rheaasturn @slxt4matt @mmay4ever @aurizp @mattslolita

#nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #chrissturniolofanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chrissturniolo #sturniolos #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo x reader

[memento-rory]

➞ 𝟐 𝐀.𝐌.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: schlatt comes home late from a trip.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: just tooth-rotting fluff. i’ll pay your dental bill.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 425.

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i don’t know where this came from. i’m sleepy as fuck and i need to be held, i think.

Schlatt’s on his way home, returning from a quick business trip to LA. You’d offered to stay up to pick him up, but he’d told you not to worry about it, so you’re nestled in bed with the covers pulled up over your shoulders. Try as you might, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, your phone falling limp in your hand, whatever TikTok you’d been watching playing on a loop as you drift off to sleep.

Schlatt knows you’re probably already asleep, so his arrival at home is near silent to keep from disturbing you. He kicks his shoes off at the door, pulling his wallet and keys from his pocket to place them on the table. His luggage stays at the door too, something to be dealt with tomorrow, because he’s too exhausted from his trip to bother with it now.

He takes a shower — a rather quick one, as he’s eager to finally get into bed. The hot water feels great, but he knows being in your arms after several long, busy days will feel even better.

It’s not long before the bed shifts, the feeling of Schlatt’s arms wrapping around you causing you to stir.

“Hey, angel.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before reaching around to lock your phone for you, moving it to your bedside table. He runs his hand down your arm, relishing in the way your soft skin feels under his hand.

“Hey.” You respond groggily, turning over in the bed to face him. “How was your trip?”

“Eh, who cares,” He says, smiling softly at you. His face is just barely illuminated by the moonlight bleeding through the curtains. “I’m just glad I finally got to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“Me too,” You smile back at him.

Schlatt leans forward to place a soft kiss on your lips, lingering longer than he originally intended to because it feels so good to be with you again.

When he pulls away from you, he takes a second to really assess your face, moonlit and bleary-eyed. He stares at you like you’re unreal, someone he feels like he’s dreamed up. His hand moves from your arm to your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into his touch, closing your heavy eyes.

“Fuckin’ love you, kid.” Schlatt murmurs, kissing your forehead before pulling you to him to rest your head on his chest.

“Fuckin’ love you, punk.” You respond, drifting off to sleep once again, thanks to the comfort and warmth of your boyfriend.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #rory writes

[rendy-a]

Sorry, househusband Headcanons with Silver 👉👈✨💕(sorry the first questiom accidentally sent incomplete ) 👍

Ha ha ha. That first request would have been enough. Househusband Silver? Say no more. I'm with you there!

You have to keep an eye on him when he does chores to watch out for advice he picked up from your father-in-law.  Lilia passed on some of the strangest housekeeping habits to Silver and you never know when they’ll pop up.  You remember the winter that both of you were sick at the same time and Silver made an actual bathtub full of soup because that was the correct amount advised by Father. 

You do all the cooking prep together.  It’s not that you don’t like Silver’s cooking (even he knows to avoid using Lilia’s recipes), it’s just that you worry too much about his safety in the kitchen.  There have been some close calls where Silver has fallen asleep with a hot stove on or holding a knife.  Now, you have little dinner-prep dates to cook up meals for the week.  Each finished dish is one your spouse can finish off in the microwave or by setting a timer on a kitchen appliance.  It’s not foolproof but you certainly worry less.  Seeing Silver in an apron is just an added bonus!

You never thought you’d say this, but small forest animals are your back-up plan.  It’s like nature itself has decided to help your husband escape danger and accomplish his goals.  You’ve literally seen mice help him sew up a rip in your clothes and a deer pull your sleeping spouse out of the street.  You are grateful that Silver is so beloved by the animals, or you don’t know how you’d bare to leave him home without you!

You were sitting at your desk hard at work when suddenly a chill runs down your spine.  You look at the clock, there are three more hours of work left in the day.  You frown and decide to quickly check your phone messages, just in case.  When you pull the device out and look, your heart drops when you see the message, [Father is here for a visit.]  Oh dear, your famous Father-in-law is alone with your spouse, and you can’t do anything about it. 

You quietly take your phone and sneak away to the parking lot for a quick call.  It rings several times with no answer.  You hang up and try again.  This time, you get a sleepy, “Hello,” at the fourth ring.  You smile at the sound, picturing your spouse just awoken from a short sleeping spell.  “Hi dearest, I got your message.  How are things going?”  There is the smallest hint of a smile in the tone that replies, though you know he is stoic as ever on the other side.  “Father is helping me clean out the attic.  It’s going along well.  We’ve got everything moved out and into our living room now.”  You look out into the distance.  All the dusty things hidden away in the attic are now all over your clean living room.  Well, it could be worse.

You force an extra amount of cheer into your voice, “That’s great honey, and you are keeping an eye on him?  Making sure he…doesn’t work too hard?”  Silver assures you that he only fell asleep for a moment, but that Lilia was back where he expected him to be.  You feel a sense of dread, “Silver, it is nearly lunch time.  He hasn’t been cooking, has he?  Did you check?”  There is a long pause before Silver mutters, “I better go.”  You wish him the best of luck and disconnect.  Then, you gaze at your phone for a moment before dialing the nearest pizza delivery place.  Better safe than sorry.

A few hours later, you sneak away to the restroom to text your spouse.  [How are things?]  You wait quietly in the stall until you get a reply.  [Do you think we need to put a bedroom in the attic?]  You look at your phone in surprise, this conversation is already veering wildly from what you anticipated.  [Why would we do that?]  You see the dots appear and wait for your hubby’s text.  [In case we need to use the spare room for a nursery.]  You sigh and roll your eyes, Lilia again.  [We can talk about it when I get home.  Agree to nothing!!!]

After work, your thoughts turn immediately to your spouse, and you head straight home.  You see your house come into view and your sleepy husband is waiting for you at the door with his eyes shut.  You climb the stairs and give him a sweet kiss.  His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, “I had a wonderful dream and now here you are.”  You brush a strand of his silver hair from his forehead, “Which was better?”  He looks at you with seriousness and replies, “You.  You are always better.”  You turn your head to the side, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “So where is our precious Father?”  Silver drops back until he is only holding your hand, “He left.  He said we needed time alone to work on his grandchildren.”  You laugh and think that sounds very much like your spirited Father-in-Law.  You rub your thumb along the fingers holding your hand, “Well, since he is gone, I suppose its safe to ask about your day.  How did the attic cleaning project go?”  Silver calmly assures you that things went just fine.  Nearby, a squirrel looks up and meets your eye before giving you the most traumatized shake of its little head.  “I’m glad everything worked out,” you say as you make eyes that say ‘I’m sorry’ to the neighborhood wildlife.  You didn’t know what trouble he’d been involved in, but you knew some evil had been conquered today.  You squeeze Silver’s hand and that prompts him to lift you into his arms and carry you over the threshold.  It wasn’t happily ever after, but for today, it was enough of a happy ending for you and your prince charming.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst silver #silver x reader #househusband au

[raina-at]

Fire

Fire exposes your priorities.

The explosion shakes the very foundations of 221 Baker Street. Sherlock looks up from his microscope and sees a vast billow of smoke rise out of the windows of Speedy’s cafe.

Sherlock is out of his seat and down the stairs in two seconds flat. Mrs Hudson meets him at the door.

“What happened?” she asks, looking terrified.

“Gas explosion, if I had to guess,” Sherlock answers, taking her by the elbow. “We need to get out now.”

“Sherlock—”

“Now, Mrs. Hudson.”

He opens the door and forces her out of the building, taking his phone out of his pocket to dial 999.

“Sherlock!” Mrs Hudson grabs him by the shoulder and turns him around, forcing him to look at her. “Look!”

Sherlock follows her outstretched hand with his eyes and his entire world whites out on the edges. Rosie’s pram is parked in front of Speedy’s. 

Sherlock checks his watch. 4:10 pm. John normally comes home with Rosie at four…

They often pick up baked goods from Speedy’s before coming upstairs…

Sherlock feels bile rise in his throat, but he ruthlessly suppresses his fear as he presses his phone in Mrs Hudson’s hand. “Phone 999. They’re probably already on their way, but do it anyway. I’m…” he trails off and gestures to the entrance to Speedy’s.

He doesn’t even hear Mrs Hudson’s response. He runs towards the shattered door and carefully steps inside the wrecked cafe.

The air is thick with smoke, and he can see flames licking out of the kitchen. Glass litters the ground. 

He hears her crying immediately. “Daddy,” she sobs. “Wake up.”

Sherlock assesses the situation with one glance. Rosie seems relatively unharmed, but John’s unconscious, and trapped beneath a heavy-looking shelf. Mr Chatterjee is lying behind the counter. He’s alive, but that’s all Sherlock has time to determine before instinct kicks in.  He’s at Rosie’s side and is picking her up before he’s aware that he’s moving.

“We need to get you out of here, Watson,” he says as he lifts her away from John’s supine body. He hesitates briefly, registering that John is breathing normally, but knowing he can’t lift that shelf alone, and knowing he has to get Rosie out of here. Now. The gas valve is still open. There could be a second explosion any moment.

It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done in his life, but he clutches his wailing daughter close to his body and runs out of there as fast as his feet carry him.

“Daddy!” she wails into his ear, tearing at his heart with every forlorn cry. “Daddy! We can’t leave Daddy!”

Outside, he’s greeted by a pair of burly firemen, who pull him behind a safety barrier and hand him over to a paramedic, who forces him to sit in the back of an ambulance. They try to pry Rosie out of his arms, but she’s holding as tightly to him as he’s holding on to her.

“Daddy! What’s happening to Daddy!” she wails, sobbing into his shirt.

“Don’t worry, Watson, the firemen will save Daddy. They’ll get him out,” he soothes her mechanically, even as every muscle in his body screams that he needs to go in there and dig John out with his bare hands if he has to, because this can’t be happening, it just can’t. After all they’ve been through, a fucking gas leak—

But he doesn’t move even one inch, because he knows, he knows, he has to be there for Rosie, even if—

Especially if—

He feels bile rise again, but he swallows down the panic and the fear and the desperate need to run back in there, and holds on to Rosie, whispering soothing nothings into her blonde hair, even as she screams for her father, again, and again, and again. Sherlock wishes he could scream as well, but if he even utters John’s name now he’ll break clean in two from the force of the fight raging within him.

He could give her to someone else, run in, get John out.

But what if they both die in there? Who will take care of her then? 

So he sits, and he waits, and he holds their distraught daughter, knowing he has to, there’s no choice here, it’s what they both promised each other, she always comes first, no matter what. 

He waits. And waits. It feels like hours, but it’s probably five minutes, ten at most, before the firemen bring John out on a stretcher. He looks so small, but he’s wearing an oxygen mask and he’s clearly alive.

“Daddy!” Rosie screams, and Sherlock has to stop her from throwing herself on the stretcher, but honestly, he’d like to do the exact same thing. He’s weak with relief and smoke inhalation, and he’s glad when the paramedics take charge and get them all three into an ambulance. As soon as they’re in the ambulance, Rosie takes John’s hand. After a brief moment, Sherlock encloses her hand holding John’s in both of his. 

Sherlock watches their entwined fingers, one small hand and two large ones, the entire way to the hospital.

*-*

Sherlock meets Molly and Mrs Hudson in the waiting room once the doctors have cleared Rosie to go home—smoke inhalation and a few cuts and bruises, they were so lucky—and Sherlock excuses himself to the hospital bathroom, because he’s filthy and he stinks of smoke. 

He washes up, still numb with shock, and that’s when he notices his hands are bloody from pressing his fingernails into his palms. His wedding ring has blood on it. He washes it off, then is violently ill over the washbasin, his body convulsing as the fear and the shock and the smoke inhalation catch up to him.

What would I have done, he thinks. I almost let him die. I would have let him die. I would have watched as he burned to death, what’s wrong with me?

I should have saved him, should have gone in there and gotten him out, he’ll hate me, he’ll never forgive me, and he shouldn’t… I promised him I’d always be there for him, and I failed, failed, failed…

It’s Mrs Hudson who finds him. He’s still on the floor, holding his head in his arms, unaware when he started sobbing, only knowing he can’t stop.

She sits down next to him and wraps her arms around him, guides his head to her shoulders. “It’s fine,” she whispers, over and over and over, “he’s fine, they’re fine, it’s all going to be all right again.”

Slowly, he calms down. He becomes aware that he has a husband and a daughter to see to, and that this little episode is helping nobody at all.

So he helps Mrs Hudson to her feet and washes his face, then lets her direct him to John’s room.

John’s sitting up in bed, Rosie clinging to him, arms and legs wrapped tightly around him. He’s wearing a leg cast, an oxygen mask and a long-suffering expression as he tries to keep Rosie from tearing out his IV without letting go of her.

He stills when he sees Sherlock. Their eyes meet, and John smiles, and Sherlock swallows, near tears all over again, out of sheer relief that they’re all here, and they’re fine. Then John holds out his arm in an inviting gesture, and Sherlock collapses down on the bed and hugs his Watsons tightly to his chest. 

Later, when Rosie’s asleep and Sherlock is dozing in his chair, he feels John take his palm, soothe gentle fingertips over the cuts Sherlock’s fingernails have made into his skin. He pushes his oxygen mask aside and kisses the wounds on Sherlock’s hand, a silent gesture of gratitude and forgiveness, of perfect understanding. I would have done the same, the kiss says. And it would have killed me, too.

Sherlock meets John’s eyes and nods, just once. There are no words for how he feels, and he’s grateful that he doesn’t need any. He pulls John’s hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles over the IV. Soon, they’ll be able to joke about it. Soon, perspective will return and Sherlock will know emotionally as well as intellectually that he made the right decision. The decision John would have wanted him to make.

Right now, though, he keeps his lips pressed to John’s skin and his hand trapped between both of his as if in prayer and only thinks, Thank you. Thank you fate, thank you luck. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

-----

Tags under the cut as usual, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #my fic #may prompts 2024 #fire #parentlock

[stevie-petey]

episode four: the sauna test

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!” “What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time.  “Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent. Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 

Summary: dustin has some brotherly concern for you (dont tell anyone though), steve is offended you dont think he can fight, nancy gets upset during therapy hour, robin encourages child endangerment, erica becomes your hero, and you lose your lunch on hawkins makeshift tower of terror (aka sketchy russian elevators)

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Before you swing in: hello my loves ! had a busy may wrapping up finals, move out, and adjusting back to life at home. i finally had the time to write this, and while im still iffy with some parts, im just excited to finally be at the elevator scene tbh. ive been DYING to write her. enjoy !!

-

Dustin stands outside your room the next morning, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It’s early and he can’t get the panic he saw in your eyes last night out of his head. He hasn’t seen you that consumed with anxiety since you guys were kids and your parents began to fight. 

He feels horrible for putting you in that position last night, at odds with him, Robin, and Steve. 

Especially Steve. 

Dustin hadn’t meant to start a fight between you and the teen. Contrary to popular belief, he actually does want the two of you together, but now he’s worried he’s somehow caused a rift in your relationship.

Sighing, your brother allows his knuckles to rap against your door. When he doesn’t hear anything, he slowly opens it and pokes his head in. You’re asleep in your bed, blankets strewn everywhere, and Dustin knows he’s fucked up because you almost never sleep in this late. 

Now he’s worried he’s going to have to force you into a code blue.

Dustin lets himself into your room and stands before your bed. Then, because he’s your brother and finds it hard to express his worries for you in a normal way, he pokes your cheek with his finger. “Wake up.”

You stir at the touch but remain asleep. Dustin groans and starts repeatedly poking you. “Dude, get up.” He now starts poking your nose, your forehead and eyebrows, anywhere his finger can reach.

Finally the onslaught of pokes to your face is enough to wake you up. You raise your hand and slap Dustin away as you scrunch your face in displeasure. “Why do you always insist on waking me up this way?”

“It’s fun for me.”

You slap at your brother again and take a moment to stretch. Your body is exhausted, you got home late last night after your drive with Jonathan. Once the two of you had been done discussing your relationship problems, you both decided to just drive around Hawkins and simmer in your limited time together. For those few hours, only the two of you existed.

Yawning, you blink your eyes open at Dustin. “Is there a reason you’re waking me up before my alarm is supposed to go off?”

Dustin’s smug smile falls. He coughs and starts to fidget with his fingers. “Oh, I was just–well. Last night… Do you wanna talk about it?”

The implications of your brother’s words cause you to fully wake up. “Is this your poor attempt at commencing a code blue?”

“Well, do we need a code blue?”

You roll over and throw your blankets over your head, blocking out the world. “I already talked about my feelings last night with Jonathan, please give me at least twenty-four hours to recover.”

Dustin flicks your ear that pokes out from under the blankets at the mention of Jonathan. “Why were you with that guy last night?”

“Stop touching my face!” You yell at the kid, annoyed. “And because he’s my best friend. We both had shitty nights so we drove around and cried together.”

Your brother pauses. “Did you actually cry together?”

“No,” you now uncover your face and sigh. “Only I cried, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.”

Dustin drops his head, remembering how upset you’d been standing in the hallway last night with the others. “I’m sorry about last night, Y/N.”

“Hey, no.” You sit up now and force him to look at you. “No apologizing. I understand.”

Your friends have all gone their separate ways this summer and I know you’re so fixated on the Russians because you’re lonely. I understand, and I’m here for you.

It goes unsaid, but Dustin knows that you have him all figured out, though it doesn’t ease the guilt he feels for dragging you into all of this in the first place. “You don’t have to join me at Scoops today, Y/N.”

“I know, but I will anyway after my shift.” I have to keep you safe.

“We both know you’re only going to make sure I don’t burn the place down.” You worry too much.

“Oh, don’t think I won’t call Steve once this conversation is done to make sure he keeps an eye on you.” I know, but it’s my job and I love you.

“You’re the worst.” I love you, too.

You ruffle Dustin’s hair with a fond smile. It’s an intricate thing, the hidden language that can only be found between siblings. All that goes unsaid becomes masked behind teasing and taunts, but you both hear what’s underneath. 

When Dustin leaves your room to go to the mall, you roll over in bed and reach for the phone that rests on top of your desk. Your fingers press the numbers that have become ingrained within your brain from countless nights of dialing. The line rings only one time before Steve’s tired voice answers. 

“Hello?”

You smile hearing his voice, despite the distance that seems to have now formed between you. “Hi, honey.”

There’s rustling on the other end of the line and you know Steve still lays in his own bed only ten minutes from your own. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” you quickly reassure him, wincing when you realize you don’t normally call him so early. “Sorry, I was just calling to ask if you’d keep an eye on Dustin today? With the Russians and everything, I have work today and can’t be there–”

“Of course I’ll keep an eye on your brother, Y/N.” Steve gently interrupts your anxious rambling. 

“Thank you,” you say softly with a laugh, embarrassed. 

“Are we…” Steve hesitates, unsure how to find the right words. “Are we okay? I know things were–uh, weird. Last night. And that I was a dick and I just, I’m really sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

You close your eyes and exhale slowly, knowing that there’s more that Steve wants to say but is too afraid to tell you. Too ashamed to say that he’s embarrassed as well for allowing his pride to cloud his judgment, and you’re too exhausted to try and remind him again that you love him despite it all. “We’re okay, Steve. I promise.”

He takes a moment to respond, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never been good at this. Finally, he settles on what he’s able to give you. It seems that’s all he’s been able to do lately. “I’ll miss you today, angel.”

“I’ll miss you too, honey.” The name slips from your tongue in a languid manner, the warmth that accompanies the word still wraps itself around your body and reminds you of the love you feel for the boy. You hope he can feel the warmth too, you hope it descends down the landline and wraps around him as well. “I’ll see you after work.”

– 

Your day only gets worse from there.

After only an hour or so of sadly sorting through books at work without a customer in sight, you hear a frail scream come from Mrs. Waters’ office. You run towards the woman in a heartbeat, panic stricken and afraid of what you’ll find. 

Mrs. Waters is sitting tiredly in her office with her head in her hands when you run in. The usually upbeat woman is hunched over with despair and you’re quick to rush over to her with worry. “Mrs. Waters, is everything okay?”

She rubs at her temples and it’s then that you realize her telephone is in her hand. Without bothering to look, she clumsily places it back on the wall and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I–I just had a fright, that’s all.”

“What happened?” You pull a chair to sit next to the woman and grab her wrinkled, yet soft, hands. 

“Oh, I’m old.” Mrs. Waters smiles at you sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. “My, you would think I’d be used to phone calls from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” 

Hearing the panic in your voice, your boss grabs the hands you have placed on top of her’s and squeezes with reassurance. “It wasn’t for me, dear.”

You’re still anxious for the woman in front of you. “Who then?”

“They called me for an old friend,” Mrs. Waters clutches at her chest with a certain fear that you’ve never seen within the woman. “She’s in the hospital because some young journalist found her eating fertilizer in her home last night. She’s always been… troubled.”

You gasp and pull away from your boss and your mind reels with this new information. Jonathan’s voice echoes within the walls of your mind, of his story of the woman he and Nancy had found last night after investigating the rats. 

Mrs. Waters frowns at your unexpected reaction and notices the fear on your face. “Dear, I’m sure my friend will be alright–”

“What…” your voice shakes, and you clear your throat. “What’s your friend’s name, Mrs. Waters?”

The old woman sighs, sensing there’s something more to your worry, but her heart hurts for her friend and she’s seen more in her almost seventy years than she’s ever wanted to. “Her name is Doris Driscoll.”

–

You’re sent home early after your conversation with Mrs. Waters. She had been too worried for her friend and saw how shaken up by it you seemed to be as well, so she patted your arm and dismissed you. 

“There’s no point keeping the store open today, Y/N. Go home to that cute boy of yours while I go visit an old friend.”

You had tried arguing with her, but even you knew it was no use. 

Biking to Starcourt, now more than ever worried about your job, you feel your birthday looming over you and the worries of Nancy’s involvement with rats and old women eating fertilizer mixed with Jonathan’s fears. 

This was supposed to be a good summer. 

Your head spins as you walk into the backdoor of Scoops Ahoy, finding Robin, Steve, and Dustin all circled around the table as they discuss how to enter the Russian storage room. 

“What? I sneak up behind, knock him out, and I take his keycard.” Steve is explaining when you walk in. He has his leg propped against the seat next to him as he twirls his sailor’s hat in his hand. “It’s easy.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin blinks at the teen, having little faith in his confidence.

You make your way towards the group and lift Steve’s propped leg up so that you can sit before placing the leg across your lap. Feeling your touch, he looks up with surprise to see you, having expected your shift to end later in the day. “Y/N?”

“You’re not going near any Russian men with guns, Steve.” You say to him in lieu of a greeting.

Steve deflates in his seat. “That’s why I’d be sneaking.”

Dustin shares a look with you, the two of you remembering all the times Steve has tried, and failed, to win a fight. Clearing his throat, your brother crosses his arms and winks at you before turning to the teen. “Alright, please tell us this, and be honest. Have you ever actually… won a fight?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, that was one time–”

“Twice, honey.” You interrupt him with a smile, enjoying this conversation maybe a little too much. “Jonathan, remember him?”

“Listen, that doesn’t count.”

“Oh, but it does.” You pinch Steve’s shin. “He kicked your ass, I was there.”

He winces and moves his legs off of you. “He didn’t kick my ass–”

“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye.” Dustin adds on, leaning against your chair now as the two of you gang up on Steve. 

“He even pinned you at one point. I distinctly remember thinking he was going to kill you.” You say, smirking.

Steve scoffs. “Oh, you did not have any concern for me then–”

You hit his shoulder. “Yes I did! I’ve always been worried about you–”

“Can you guys not make everything about your weird relationship for like, three seconds, please?” Dustin whines as you and Steve start to bicker about something else entirely.

As the three of you argue, Robin seems to get an idea and runs out of the room. Noticing her sudden absence, you turn to Steve and frown. “What’s Robin up to?”

He stands up and sees her snatching money from the tip jar before running off. Steve calls after her, but she doesn’t slow down as she runs out of the shop. “What are you doing?”

“I need cash!” She says, as if that explains everything.

“Isn’t half of the tip money Steve’s?” You ask, now standing next to him by the register alongside Dustin.

“I’ll pay your boyfriend back later, Y/N.” Robin continues to walk towards the shop’s exit. “I’m going to find us a way into that room, a safe way, just like I promised you.”

You’re oddly touched that she remembered your insistence on keeping everyone safe. With a smile, you call across to her, “thank you!”

Robin blushes and forces herself to look away from you so that she can direct her attention to Steve. “In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff!” 

As you and Steve watch Robin leave, the two of you turn and catch Dustin licking at one of the ice cream scoops. You whack him with the back of your hand and cringe at him. “Dude, what the hell?”

Dustin flinches away from you as Steve snatches the scoop from the boy with his own disgusted look. “Not my scooper, man.”

“Why are you like this?” You ask your brother with disappointment in your voice, to which he huffs at. 

“I’m a curious person.” You scoff at Dustin and he rolls his eyes at you before making his way out from behind the ice cream counter. “If I’m going to be judged, then I’m going to the arcade while we wait for whatever Robin has planned.”

He’s gone without another word, leaving you alone with Steve.

It’s still early in the day and there’s only a few customers in Scoops Ahoy, so it’s just you and Steve. It’s the first time you’ve been alone together since last night, when you’d been standing in front of him, begging him to listen to you, and all he could do was watch you silently with pain in his own eyes. 

As if coming to this realization himself, Steve coughs and rocks back and forth awkwardly. He knows you told him this morning that everything was okay between you two, but things still feel off. Despite your best efforts, he can tell that you’re still struggling to seem okay with the whole Russian debacle. You’re still frail looking, unsure and anxious, and Steve hates that he’s the reason why. 

Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. “Care to, uh. Join me in the backroom?”

You raise your eyebrows at his question. “Are you propositioning me, Harrington?”

“No!” His eyes widen in fear and his voice squeaks, which only embarasses him more. He clears his throat and tries to swallow down his dread. “I mean, not like that. I figured we could, you know… talk.”

Now it’s your turn to fill with dread. He’s seen through you, despite your best efforts to try and appease everyone. Squeezing his hand, you nod at Steve and allow him to guide you into the backroom. 

Steve pulls a chair out from the table and sits down, and before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you down and into his lap. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself at the sudden movement, which only makes Steve’s proud smile widen. “You planned that, didn’t you?”

“Sure did, angel.”

You laugh and shake your head at him, tightening your arms around his neck and settling into his lap. He rests his hands on your thighs and stares at you with such warmth, such patience, content to simply have you here with him. Despite the uncertainty that seems to now loom over the two of you, there’s still a certainty within it. There’s still a trust that accompanies the hesitancy, and it’s this trust that caresses your cheek and coaxes you to speak. 

“I don’t like what we’re doing, Steve.” You confess to him, making your words as plain as possible so that nothing gets misconstrued; too often your words have gotten lost in translation.

Steve nods slightly, his eyes never leave yours, and he listens. “I get that, I do, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad about standing your ground. It’s just… I wanted to go along with Dustin, pretend for a few days that I’m not some moron who couldn’t get into college, you know?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you fix a piece of Steve’s hair that has fallen out of his sailor’s hat and sigh. “But there’s more to this than just my stupid need to protect everyone.”

“Did something else happen?” 

You hesitate, unsure if what’s been on your mind holds any real weight, or if you’re just being paranoid now after everything you’ve been through these last few years. Biting your lip, you decide that it’s Steve you’re telling this to. Paranoid or not, he’ll listen and try to help you piece it all together as well. He always does. “A few days ago I saw Billy stumbling on the side of the road. He was… bleeding.”

Steve’s eyes harden at the teen’s name and instinctively his grip on you tightens. “Did he do anything to you?”

“No,” you breathe out sharply, remembering how disoriented Billy had been. He was in no condition to cause you any harm, which in itself frightened you. “There was something off about him, Steve. I–I can’t explain it, but a day before I saw Billy, I had been with Will and he was almost similar to Billy, I guess? He just–he was frozen, staring off into space, until I got his attention again.”

“Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”

You sigh. “Because there is. There’s always something else in the fucking town.” Anger begins to rise within you and you force yourself to swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for the anger that always simmers just below the surface, waiting. “I talked to Jonathan last night. He’s been with Nancy investigating rabid rats and an old woman who was caught eating her fertilizer.”

“Christ,” Steve exhales with bewilderment.

“And now Russians in Hawkins? What are the odds of this all happening within the same week?”

“Do you…” Looking around, Steve lowers his voice. “Do you think it’s happening again?”

“I don’t think so, El told us she closed the gate, but… I can’t explain any of this, either.” You feel helpless, and you hate it. There’s something you’re missing, there’s something connecting it all, and yet you’re going in circles. 

It all can’t just be a coincidence, and it’s a horrible, maddening feeling. 

And Steve tries to absolve you from it. “We’ll figure it out, together. You and me, even if you want to kill me by the time we’re done, I promise you that I’ll help you–” The phone starts to ring, cutting Steve off, and he sighs. Patting your thighs, he silently asks you to get up so that he can answer it.

Lazily walking over to the ringing phone, Steve picks it up with slight annoyance. “Scoops Ahoy, this is Steve.” There’s a feminine voice on the other line, which he frowns at, before handing the phone to you. “It’s for you?”

Surprised, you stand up and take the phone, unsure who would be calling for you at the ice cream shop. “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s me. Um, hi.” 

“Nancy?”

“I–uh, I called your job and this older lady told me you’d be at Scoops Ahoy? I needed someone to talk to, and I–I just,” She clears her throat, and it’s only now that you notice the exhaustion in her voice and how thick it sounds from dried up tears. “You know what? This is weird, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry–”

“Hey, no.” You fumble with the telephone cord and desperately wish you were with Nancy right now. After what Jonathan told you last night, you feel horrible for the girl, and from the sound of it, she needs someone there for her right now. “Talk to me, Nance. What happened?”

You hear her inhale a shaky breath, always the first to try and disguise any upset and hurt she may be feeling for the sake of others. She takes another deep breath, exhales slowly, and then begins to talk. “Jonathan and I had a fight.”

She tells you everything, from Mrs. Driscoll and the rats to Tom firing them for falsely identifying as reporters. It’s everything Jonathan told you last night, all his worst fears come true, except Nancy also tells you what he told her this morning. How condescending he had been, how he had reminded her of how poor he is, how he belittled her need to figure everything out herself. 

“He kept defending all those assholes, Y/N.” More tears lace within Nancy’s voice. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept repeating over and over again about how he needed the job, as if it wasn’t the single more humiliating thing I’ve ever had to endure.”

There’s so much you want to say, but you’re afraid it will only come out wrong. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through, Nance. I know those men were horrible to you, but you understand where Jonathan is coming from, right?”

“I mean, I thought I did, but,” she sniffs, her voice is soft and defeated. “I’m not so sure anymore. It feels like we can’t understand each other, like we’re physically incapable of seeing eye to eye. I know he has to provide for his family, I–I love that he takes care of them, that he always does what’s right, and yet it infuriates me sometimes.”

You can’t help but chuckle at what Nancy has said. She sounds so much like Jonathan in this moment, reminiscent of him telling you that her ambition is what he loves about her, and here she is saying his integrity is what she loves about him. “God, you two and your pride; you sound just like Jonathan. He said practically the same thing about you last night–”

“Jonathan talked to you about this?” Nancy’s voice becomes cold, defensive, and you know you’ve just said the wrong thing.

“Well, I mean,” you frantically try to alleviate the situation. “He only wanted advice, that’s all.”

Nancy scoffs, and you feel your heart drop. “So he can tell you all about how he feels, but bottles it up when it comes to his girlfriend?”

Well, fuck. 

“He was scared and overwhelmed.” You try to keep your voice neutral, not wanting the girl to assume you’re on anyone’s side. “It’s a difficult situation, and he came to me for help just like you are right now.”

Jealousy claws at Nancy suddenly, it clashes against the hurt within her. Jonathan went to you, as he’s always done, he sought solace in you for the emotions within him that he still has yet to share with her. It reminds her, then, just how little she knows about him still. How many years stretch between you and Nancy when it comes to Jonathan. 

“I’m sure you know all about how he feels,” she says bitterly, unable to stop herself. “The two of you understand one another.”

You sense that there’s something important with what she’s just said. The words were said with a history behind them, an insecurity that you cannot compensate for, and you feel defenseless against Nancy. “He was hurt, and so are you–”

“God, I should’ve known you’d take his side! I mean, you two always do this. I’m such an idiot.”

Panic begins to surround you. “Nancy, I’m not taking anyone’s side, just please listen to me–”

The line goes dead as Nancy hangs up. 

Numb, you place the phone back on the wall and stare blankly at it. The pressure of tears presses against your eyes and you try to steady your breathing. You’ve hurt Nancy, you’ve caused a rift between you that threatens to collapse into a chasm, and you don’t know what to do.

Steve sees that you’re fighting back tears and he tugs you against his chest. His embrace soothes you, but when he asks what happened, all you can do is shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. There’s too much to explain, a history between you and Jonathan that you know Steve accepts, and yet now you’re terrified you’ll somehow hurt him like you’ve hurt Nancy. 

“I’m sorry, angel.”

Neither of you are sure what Steve is apologizing for, but it’s enough for now. 

So much for an easy summer.

– 

“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” Robin places a giant sheet of paper onto the table. On it are lines and shapes all drawn in blue with an intricate layout. You lean in close to inspect it as Robin continues explaining. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints.” 

Dustin praises her idea and you hesitantly agree; you would’ve never thought of asking for the mall’s blueprints. “You’ve got my attention.”

She smiles and starts to explain her plan. “This is us, Scoops,” her fingers trace over the paper as she guides you and the boys through the blueprint. “And this is where we want to get.”

“I don’t really see a way in.” Steve points out, now sitting at the table with an arm wrapped around you. 

“There’s not,” Robin casts the top blueprint aside and reveals another one underneath. It’s similar in design, although this one lacks more shapes and is mostly lines. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”

You squint at the drawings, trying to figure out what they remind you of. “Are those…”

“Air ducts!” Dustin finishes for you, impressed with Robin’s idea.

“Safe, practical, and wouldn’t involve guns.” Turning to the girl, you nod at her and wink. “Buckley, you really keep your promises.”

Robin bows playfully. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room, and these air ducts,” she grabs a marker from the whiteboard and circles Scoops on the blueprints before drawing a winding line down to the hidden vault and circling it as well. “Lead all the way here.”

The four of you all look up at the vent above you, and while the idea seems like the safest option, you can’t help but wonder how horribly wrong it could go as well. You’ve never had the best luck, not when it comes to Hawkins, and the air ducts seem almost too easy of a solution to trust. 

Steve finds a screwdriver in one of the shop’s drawers and takes apart the air vent with Dustin’s help. You stand next to Robin and watch with slight weariness, unsure where to go from here. Once Steve has removed the vent, he shines a flashlight inside and winces. 

“I don’t know, guys. It’s a tight fit.”

“I can do it,” you step forward. “Can’t be that bad, right?”

Steve looks down at you from the ladder. “This feels like a trap.”

“Move, Harrington.” Once he’s off the ladder, you climb up yourself. When you look into the vent, your heart drops. It is a tight fit, there’s no way you’ll be able to crawl through it. Defeated, you climb down the ladder. “Well, shit.”

“I’ll fit.” Dustin now speaks up.

“No you will not.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “No collar bones, remember?” 

“Excuse me?” Robin has never been more confused in her life.

Steve begins to explain Dustin’s medical condition while you continue arguing with your brother. “I’m not letting you do this!”

“You got the healthy genes while I got the rare genetic condition, Y/N.” Dustin starts to climb up the ladder as you tug at his shirt to try and stop him. “Let me abuse it!”

“But–”

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll handle this, Y/N.”

You step back, hoping that he’ll talk some sense into your brother, but to your horror he only makes things worse. Dustin starts to climb into the vent with Steve below him, but he gets stuck about halfway in. “Steve, push me!”

The teen looks at you, unsure what the right call here is. “Do I…?”

“Yeah, just push the kid.” You rub your eyes, tired. “He’s already almost in the damn air duct anyways.” 

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!”

“What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time. 

“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent.

Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 

The two boys argue, Dustin commanding Steve to push him harder as the teen tries his best to shove the kid, and Robin leans over to you. “Remind me, why are you into Harrington again?”

All you can do is sigh at her question, having no good answer as you watch Steve now manhandle Dustin and scream back insults at him. 

They look ridiculous. 

“Ahoy, sailors!” Someone rings the register’s bell impatiently. “All hands on deck!”

You and Robin turn to find Erica standing at the register as she repeatedly rings the bell and demands her daily free samples. You’re about to respond to her when you see Robin raise her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s thought of something. 

“Would… Erica fit in the vent?”

Your hand snatches at Robin’s arm as you pull her away from the shop’s window. “Absolutely not. We’re not getting Erica involved!”

“C’mon, Y/N. She’s small, she could easily fit–”

“She’s ten.” She’s too young. You’ve always regretted that Dustin and the party were twelve when everything began. 

You’ll be damned if you ruin another child’s life. 

But Robin doesn’t know any of this, and she ignores you as she runs to the register and recruits Erica before you can stop her. Within a minute you have a very curious Erica Sinclair climbing the ladder up to the vent as she shines a flashlight through it. 

You stand below her, helpless. 

“Yeah, I don’t know.” She climbs down after a few minutes of studying the vent’s dimensions. 

“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asks. 

Erica leans against the table and studies the four of you with distaste. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin teases her, but you only feel sympathy for the girl. 

You step towards Erica, trying one last time to reason with her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back down now, no one will blame you. In fact, I will give you all my allowance if you say no.”

Dustin elbows you roughly to get you to shut up, he knows what you’re trying to do. You glare at him and rub your now tender shoulder. When you look towards Steve and Robin for backup, both teens send you pleading glances similar to the ones from last night.

Once again, you’re the odd man out. 

None of this is what you want.

“I don’t have phobias,” Erica informs Robin. Then, she turns to you, “and no one tells me what to do.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Okay, well. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.”

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in a booth with the others as Steve slides Erica a freshly made sundae. 

“More fudge, please.” She requests, pleased she’s won.

Steve looks at you, already fed up with the kid, and you feel no sympathy for him. “Go on, get the girl her bribery fudge. This is what you wanted.”

He cringes at the sarcasm in your voice and knows you’re once again pissed at him. Defeated, he hangs his head low and leaves to get Erica more fudge without another word. Once he’s gone, Robin opens up her blueprints and shows the girl the air ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re going to take.”

You sit there quietly as Dustin and Robin talk to Erica. After they’ve explained the entire plan, she mentions that this all sounds like child endangerment. You let out an exhausted chuckle. “It does, doesn’t it? Isn’t that just hilarious to think about?”

Robin tries to reassure both you and Erica. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–” 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waves a finger in Robin’s face, unamused. “Child. Endangerment.”

“It’s a shame only you can see that.” You drop your head onto the table, entirely over the situation. “I mean, how can only the ten year old see how insane this is, huh?”

Dustin throws a straw at you and shushes you, annoyed with your theatrics. Clearing his throat, he turns to Erica. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country.”

“Unconfirmed, actually.” You retort. With every passing minute, it becomes more and more evident that this really is happening, and there’s no way you can back out now; someone sane has to be there to protect everyone. Dustin and the others all seem deluded by the idea of fame and adventure, but all you want to do is keep your loved ones safe. 

“Shut up,” Dustin shoves you further away from him as he tries to win over Erica’s agreement. “Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”

“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She takes a sip from her drink, now listening.

You lift your head up from the table and share a baffled look with Dustin, both of you going through how to spell America in your heads. Amazingly, Erica is right. You really can’t spell the word without her name. 

“Incredible,” you whisper, in complete disbelief. 

Dustin shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Oddly, that’s–uh, totally true… So, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man, for America – Erica.”

After your brother’s speech, Erica puts down her drink and mocks him, still not entirely sold on the whole child endangerment idea. Instead, she goes on a whole spiel about how she loves capitalism and paying people for their services while you sit there, head pounding with a headache. 

“And it seems to me,” Erica concludes with a smile, “my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. I’m talking free ice cream for life.”

Robin and Dustin mirror exasperated expressions on their faces, but honestly? You get a kick out of Erica recognizing her worth; she’s brilliant. Without saying anything, you lift your hand up for Erica to high five, which she happily accepts. 

“To child endangerment!” You cheer, your voice oozing sarcasm, and Erica follows suit as Robin and Dustin both slump in their seats. 

– 

It’s your idea to prep Erica for whatever she may find after crawling through the ducts. You shoved a helmet on her head and forced knee pads onto the girl, which she adamantly protested against. 

“This is excessive, even for you.”

You held up money, which promptly shut her up. “Wear the protection and do exactly as I say, or lose $5.”

After she took the money, you then held out your switchblade for her to take as well. “And use this if anything happens, alright?”

Erica had stared at you, slightly surprised. “Why do you carry knives on you?”

“Ask questions later.”

Now you’re anxiously waiting on the mall’s rooftop once more with Dustin, Steve, and Robin as you radio Erica for updates.

“You nerds in position or what?” Her voice drones through the walkie’s speaker.

“Yeah, we’re in position.” Robin confirms. The three of you have been scouting the shipment deck for the last thirty minutes, making sure all the possible Russian guards were gone. “It’s all quiet up here, so you’ve got the green light.”

You take the walkie from Robin. “But be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Be careful and green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”

Robin snatches the walkie back and cringes at what Erica has said. “Can we maybe not call it that?” 

“That's exactly what’s happening here.” You say with a snort. 

“Thanks for the help, Y/N.”

You give Robin a thumbs up. “Anytime.”

Erica announces that she’s in the air ducts and you feel the familiar burden of fear creep through you as she now goes quiet. Steve’s hand finds yours and he attempts to ease your discomfort as you all wait. “Erica will be fine, Y/N.”

“Yeah, totally!” Robin tries to reassure you as well, though she looks nervous too.

The minutes drag by at an agonizingly slow pace. The three of you hold your breath, waiting for Erica’s assurance that she’s safe and okay, and you pray to whatever god that’s up there to listen and keep her safe. 

If anything happens to her, it would only be your fault for not having learned your lesson sooner. 

“Alright, nerds.” You let out a breath of relief when Erica radios again, and you can feel Steve exhale as well. He’d been worried, too. “I’m there.”

“Do you see anything?” Robin asks, voice alight with excitement now. 

“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.” 

“Any guards?”

Erica pauses a moment, presumably scanning for any signs of danger, before responding. “Negative.”

You breathe out again with relief. At the very least, Erica is in a safe enough location. 

However, Robin isn’t done asking questions yet. “Booby traps?”

“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

You grab the radio again from Robin. “Erica, have I told you that you’re my favorite child?”

“You haven’t, but I know I am,” there’s a bang over the other end of the walkie, then a loud thud followed by a grunt, before her voice comes through again. “I’m in.” Then, not even a minute later, the door to the vault begins to lift up, revealing a smug looking Erica on the other side. 

You all stare at her in awe, and she snaps her fingers at you. “Free ice cream for life.”

Steve lets out a surprised laugh and a smile crosses your face as well. Even though you’re still entirely against what’s happening, you can’t believe that the plan worked. You guys successfully broke into a Russian vault. 

That beats Demodogs any day. 

You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin climb down from the roof to get to Erica as fast as you can. When you finally join her, you risk her fury and pull her into your arms for a hug. “You’re so much braver than I was at ten.”

Erica shoves you off of her. “That doesn’t at all surprise me.” 

While you make sure she’s okay, Dustin and the others investigate the room. There’s boxes everywhere with tape all over them. Lifting one up onto a table, Steve turns to you. “Can I borrow that switchblade, Y/N?”

“She’s got it,” you point to Erica. “Talk to the kid.”

Steve frowns, having unexpected this, and, being scared of the girl, he laughs nervously. “Uh, Erica? Can I have that switchblade now?”

She rolls his eyes at him and digs through her pockets to retrieve it. “Aren’t you the man in the relationship? Why don’t you have your own pair of knives?”

You cover your mouth to try and stifle the laugh that escapes you, but it’s no use. Steve hears it and sticks his middle finger up at you before finally opening the box. Cutting through the tape, he opens the box’s flaps to find a metal storage container within them.

When Steve reaches his hand inside the box, you stop him. “Please, be careful.”

“I got this, angel.” However, he slows his movements and carefully grabs at the container’s handle. Slowly, he turns it, and it lets out a terrifying hiss as air escapes it. Removing the lid, more air comes crawling out and reveals four individual cylinders.

“Definitely not delicious noodles and sensible shoes.” You breathe out, and Steve hums in agreement.

“That’s a weird way of saying ‘you were right, Dustin’.” Your brother snarks, and you hit his shoulder to shut him up.

Meanwhile, Steve waves his hand at the four of you, motioning you to back up. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”

Robin and Erica don’t hesitate to listen, but you and Dustin remain where you are. There’s a silent agreement between the two of you to not abandon Steve, he needs you. When he sees that you both haven’t listened, Steve pleads with you. “Just step back, please? I’m doing this for you guys, this could be dangerous.”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time. 

Steve tries to argue again, but you remain firm in your stance. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

His words falter at the sincerity in your voice, and he wishes it was just the two of you alone right now so that he could stroke your cheek and kiss away your concerns. He’s filled with warmth by your care for him, but just like you would never put him in danger, Steve would never put you in any danger either. 

He loves you with everything within him, he just wishes he could tell you this. 

“If you die, I die.” Dustin proudly declares, breaking Steve out of his thoughts. 

You stare at your brother, as does Steve, and together the two of you awkwardly pat the kid’s shoulder to acknowledge his sentiment. With a cough, you add, “Hendersons with Harrington.”

Steve clears his throat, overwhelmed and slightly off put by the bizarre support. “Okay, I guess.” He grabs at one of the cylinders and twists slowly, and when it unlocks, he lifts and reveals a bubbling green liquid. “What the hell?”

Robin asks what the substance is and you feel like you’ve lost your mind. You have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore. “God I hope it’s scary Kool-Aid”

As soon as the words have left your mouth, you feel rumbling beneath your feet. 

Immediately, you know you’ve fucked up.

Dustin looks up at you in alarm. “Was that just me, or did the room move?”

“Booby traps,” Erica whispers, looking scared as well.

A mechanical whirring sound infiltrates your ears as the room starts to shake again, and every part of your body screams at you to run. Something is very, very wrong. Grabbing Dustin’s hand, you start to head towards the door. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Let’s go!” Robin follows you, not needing to be told twice, and grabs one of the vials of liquid as she does so. 

“Which one is the button, Erica?” Dustin asks, fingers hovering over the control panel’s buttons after pressing one failed.

“Just press the damn button, nerd.”

You turn to her, panic rising. “He is, but nothing’s happening.”

“Press ‘open door’.”

Dustin presses the button again but still, nothing happens. Frantic to escape the room now, you shove him aside and try yourself. Your fingers press roughly against it, but still the doors won’t budge. 

Steve joins, sliding next to you as he starts to try pressing the buttons. “Here, press the other button.”

You slap his hand. You’re overwhelmed and scared and anxious and he’s five seconds away from losing an eye. “I already did that!”

Dustin starts to argue with Steve now and they push you back, repeatedly hitting whatever they can touch, as Robin and Erica shout their own useless and unneeded advice that is helping absolutely no one. You stand behind the boys, hands pressed against your head as you start to hyperventilate with panic.

Then, walls come slamming down on all sides of the room, effectively kick starting your panic attack. The lights begin to flicker as the room suddenly drops. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you’re thrown downward, and instinctively you grab for Dustin in your panic as Steve grabs for you. 

Everyone screams as you plunge into the darkness.

-

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #steve is just a boy doing his best #and erica !! #WE FINALLY HAVE ERICA !!!

[bittencheek]

South London Forever

professor!remus lupin x journalist!reader

summary: folklore and mythology and intellectual connections, papers and lectures and afternoon suns

(wc: 974)

Few thousand words into the paper and your eyes have glazed over, watching the outside world move and breathe with quiet envy.

The rhythmic dance of pedestrians, the sway of trees in the light breeze, the occasional car rolling by—all seem infinitely more engaging than the static lines of text on your laptop screen.

You check your watch, 5:23 pm.

He’s late.

You fasten the top of your shirt, only to undo the buttons again. Two down, you decide, hoping it strikes the right balance.

The gentle murmur of the espresso machine provides a welcomed background noise, combined with the faint hum of conversation from the few patrons scattered around.

The doorbell chimes as a man walks through, weariness lining his features. His gaze scans the room, spotting you tucked away in a corner.

You straighten slightly, feeling the anticipation that had built up over the past few days finally come to a head.

You take in his appearance; slightly disheveled hair, scars marking most of the visible skin, crisp charcoal blazer. His satchel seems worn out, though adorned with handmade stitching of a crescent moon. A small detail that hints at a personal touch.

“Please excuse my tardiness, got held up by a student,” he smiles, tone apologetic.

“No worries, I caught up on some work in the meantime,” you sip your drink, gesturing for him to take a seat. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool.

“So,” the papers are tossed on the first available surface, a dictaphone placed between you.

“Shall we?”

+

Fingertips stained in pen ink and notebook pages filled, you pause to take a closer look at the man before you.

He’s handsome, you decide.

The kind of handsome that’s subtle in its allure, drawing you in quietly and gradually. The photo on the university website doesn’t do him justice.

You notice the faint lines etched around his eyes and mouth, ready to laugh or wince in pain. It feels almost too intimate to witness, fragility so quietly inscribed on his face.

Professor leans back in his chair, a faint smile playing on his lips as he swirls his drink.

“It really comes down to what you believe a ghost is,” he counters your question.

You tilt your head to the side, features pulled in a pensive expression. “Something dead that seems to be alive?”

His lips perk up a little. “Or, perhaps, something dead that doesn’t know it’s dead.”

He lets the words hang in the air for a moment, their weight sinking in. The place seems to grow quieter, sending a chill down your spine.

“You think they’re trapped?” you ask quietly, afraid to disturb the delicate balance of the moment.

He nods slowly, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “Trapped in time, perhaps. Or in their own memories. It’s not always a matter of chains and prisons, I don’t think. Might simply be the refusal to let go.”

You give him a small nod, seemingly catching up. “So, it’s more about their awareness—or lack thereof—than just their existence?”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” he says, leaning forward now, his expression earnest. The smell that drifts off of him is like vanilla and freshly brewed coffee, warm on your senses.

“It’s the consciousness that defines their reality, or lack of it. They may walk among us, replaying fragments of their past, oblivious to the present and to the fact that they no longer belong to the world of the living.”

“Can’t imagine how lonely that must feel,” you let slip past your lips.

“How do you mean?”

You stare at him for a tick.

“It’s just, they are here and they’re disappearing at the same time. Like life has forgotten them, let them fall. What we call history, they call home. So, they can never be at home again, not completely? I don’t know,” you exhale in a weak laugh, face burning up.

You feel young and small and ill-prepared, a kid pretending to be an adult.

Remus squints at your rosy cheeks, his lips picking up at the corners. “No, I— I like it. I like the way you think.”

You dropped your head, smiling meekly at the wooden table.

His soft voice draws you back in the moment.

“I think it’s actually something that many people overlook. We think of ghosts as frightening, but they may not even realize they’re haunting anyone.”

You purse your lips braving a look at him, trying to retain some semblance of composure. “So, it’s not malice. Just kind of a tragic innocence.”

The smile he gives you is nothing short of lethal, and it has your stomach swooping with butterflies.

It’s warm and knowing, as if he knew all your secrets and delighted in them.

The final dregs of coffee drained from your cups, you can feel your time together is coming to an end.

You catch yourself wishing it didn’t.

You’ve been at it for hours, but it feels like time has slowed down, granting you both a chance to pick apart each other’s minds.

“So—”

“I’m—”

He pauses as you both speak at the same time, a tentative smile in his eyes.

“You g—”

“Sorr—oh.”

Fingers pressed to your mouth, you giggle awkwardly, finding his hand unfolding in a “go-ahead” gesture.

“I was just going to ask—” you start the sentence and back out too late, but are met with Remus’ patient eyes. “If you’d be open to, maybe, continuing this discussion?”

“Didn’t squeeze enough out of me for the paper?” he jokes, your cheeks getting even more flushed by the second.

“Oh, no, I mean, I’ve surely—”

“I’d love to,” he interrupts, sudden shyness gracing his features.

He stands, gathering his things with the same slow, deliberate movement you noticed when he first arrived. “Just name a time and place.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #marauders #hp