#the first one is me taking any test in high school on god

[dark-fics-4-you]

Just This Once

@deceitfuldevout

Dark!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!reader

Warnings: noncon!! coercion, somno, dubious consent, incest relationship (step siblings), choking, unprotected sex, stealthing, forced pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: reader is a year or two younger than Rafe in this, and a senior in high school at the time of this fic

Staring at the two plastic tests in your hand, you felt all the blood in your face drain.

Unfortunately there was no mistaking it. You had hoped that your cycle was just messed up, but you couldn’t deny the truth staring you right in the face.

You were pregnant, and the only person who could possibly be the father was none other than your older step brother.

But how could you be pregnant? Rafe had used a condom every time he had snuck into your bed late at night, aside from the first night which was over a year ago.

Hadn’t he?

You had never meant for any of this to happen, but now you felt utterly trapped.

The night Rafe had taken your virginity, you had both been drunk after a party. After taking more shots than you could count, you hadn’t put up much resistance when your step brother climbed into bed after you, before slowly peeling your clothes off of your limp body, caressing you and whispering sweet words in your ear the whole time.

“Just one time baby… please princess. ‘M dying to feel you.” His hands crept lower, reaching between your soft thighs.

“Rafe, what are you talking about?” You mumbled in confusion.

“I should be your first, Y/N. Not anyone else.” There was a determination in his eyes that you had seen many times before. It was the same look he had when was prepared to do whatever he needed to do to get what he wanted, and tonight it gave you shivers.

“My first what?”

Before you could realize what was actually happening, Rafe was already pushing the head of his cock past the resistance of your tight cunt, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your surprised moan. Your hand flew up to press against his bare chest, trying to push him off of you, but your step brother smacked your hand away.

The way his cock was stretching you out made your toes curl. The alcohol coursing through your veins made his touch feel amplified and you couldn’t hold on to one thought long enough to grasp what was happening.

Your initial disgust gave way to pleasure when he began to move his hips against yours, and you babbled away drunkly against his hand as he fucked you slowly, trying to ignore the way your pussy clenched around him.

“Oh fuck-” he groaned when he pressed himself deeper into you. “You feel so good sis.”

Your head was spinning, and the rocking of your bed wasn’t helping you ground yourself. The pressure between your hips was building with every stroke of his thick length.

Every sensation was foreign, but somehow you were the most disturbed when Rafe took his hand from your mouth before smothering your lips with his own. Your stomach twisted as his soft lips moved against yours before he pushed his tongue into your mouth, and to your horror, you felt a twinge of twisted pleasure in your gut.

Rafe rutted into you faster, looking between your legs to watch his large cock disappear inside you, filling you up over and over again.

“You’re so sweet, baby. So sweet for saving yourself for me,” he was mumbling against your neck in between pressing sloppy kisses to your tender skin. “Mm I’m so fucking lucky.”

Pleasure and disgust were mingling in your gut, the way your pussy was pulsing around his dick and growing wetter with each thrust confused you

“Rafe?” You whined, looking up at him as he leered above you, pushing his cock into you faster now. You couldn’t help but notice the way his abs were flexing as he fucked you.

“That feel good, Y/N?” He cooed above you, enjoying the feeling of you trembling beneath you and clenching around him.

“Mm mm,” your head lolled back, chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to collect your thoughts, but the alcohol was making your head swim.

“God you’re so pretty. Such a good girl, letting your big brother take you like this. I always thought you were- fuck- always thought you were so uptight. I never dreamed my perfect little sis would be such a shameless slut for me.”

His words made your cheeks burn with embarrassment and you turned your head, eyes falling. You were forced to meet his eyes when he gripped your chin, twisting your neck and holding you in place.

“Look at me, I need those innocent eyes on me.” You nervously held his gaze, trying to swallow down the confusing feelings of looking at your step brother as he held you down and forcefully took your virginity.

“God I need to fill you up, Y/N.”

His words momentarily broke you out of your trance and you shook your head, protesting anxiously.

“Rafe no! I’m not on birth control-” his hand slapped over your mouth and your eyes widened as you looked up at your brother in fear.

“You’ll be fine, baby. I promise. Just this once.” His pace hadn’t faltered at your pleas, if anything he was fucking you harder now, large cock roughly pushing up into your pussy.

In your drunken confusion, you hadn’t noticed his hand moving until it was too late and you flinched when his fingers clenched around your throat.

You froze, terror paralyzing you. Rafe groaned at the feeling of you tightening around his cock, squeezing him even harder than before

You were so slick that the sound of Rafe’s dick plunging into you was echoing in your ears. His hot breath was fanning over your face and his thrusts were accompanied by low groans.

When the hand at your throat tightened, you cried out against the one covering your mouth.

Rafe chuckled darkly, “if only our parents could see their perfect daughter now. I wonder if they’d think of you the same if they knew how wet you were, all for your big brother.”

His words made you feel sick, but you didn’t have time to focus on them because Rafe was demanding your attention with his frantic thrusts.

His hair was disheveled, blue eyes drinking in your every sound and movement and when your pleading eyes finally met his again, it sent him over the edge.

Rafe’s grip on your neck tightened as he spilled himself deep inside your warmth. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath and calm your racing thoughts. A sick feeling was settling in your stomach, and you could feel his cum dripping between your puffy lips.

“What did you just do?” Your voice was barely a whisper, so quiet you didn’t know if he had heard you or not.

“Nothing that I haven’t wanted to do for years.” He responded with a chuckle that made your skin crawl and thighs squeeze together.

Rafe waking you up in the late hours of the night with his tongue became a regular occurrence. One of his strong arms would wrap around your thighs, preventing you from squirming away while he devoured your messy cunt, lazily pushing his fingers into you until you were trembling in his arms and cumming on his tongue.

You were tired out from your orgasm and it didn’t take much convincing from Rafe once he promised he had put on a condom before he was climbing on top of you, parting your legs, and pressing his cock to your soaked pussy and pushing himself inside of you.

It became a routine, with Rafe climbing into your bed in the middle of the night, never taking your sleepy protests seriously, and then pushing himself inside of you until your no’s became moans.

You had always trusted him when he told you that he put a condom on, and why would you believe otherwise?

Looking down at the tests, you felt like an idiot for thinking that you could trust him, especially after the way he had taken your virginity.

You tossed them into the trash before wrapping your arms around your waist and sighing.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now?

It’s not like you could tell your parents. You were the golden child of the family, the girl who had gotten straight A’s throughout all of school and was planned on going to college after graduating this year.

Although, you realized with a shock, how could you go to college and deal with a pregnancy and a then afterwards a child? Yes you had always excelled at school, but parenting was a whole other beast, and you still felt like too much of a kid yourself to be able to raise one!

You were terrified to tell Rafe, but to your surprise, he didn’t seem concerned at all when you told him that you were pregnant with his child. In fact, he almost looked excited.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you kept it,” he trailed off and you stared at him with a bewildered look on your face, expecting him to tell a punchline that never came.

“Rafe, you are my brother-!”

“Step brother,” he corrected you gruffly.

“It doesn’t matter, this is wrong!” You hissed. “I am not fucking having your baby Rafe!”

“I’m the father, Y/N!” His hand shot out, gripping your wrist hard and digging into your skin. “You aren’t the only one affected by this!”

“It’s my baby, it’s my body, it’s my decision! So I don’t want to hear any more about this. I’ve already decided!” You ripped your arm away from him, shaking your head in disbelief.

As you walked out of his room, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of his eyes following you as you as you left.

Two days later, you were surprised when you came home from hanging out at a friend’s house to find your mom, step father, and Rafe all waiting for you.

There was a horrible sinking feeling in your gut when Ward called you into his office and you saw them all there.

You were frozen with fear, but that quickly morphed into quiet rage when Ward explained why he needed to talk with you.

“Your brother just told me that you’re pregnant. Is this true?”

You swore you felt all of the air leave the room. You moved your tongue to speak, but it felt so heavy you couldn’t make a sound.

When you finally nodded your head, you saw your mother’s jaw drop.

“Who’s the father Y/N?” Ward’s voice was stern and demanding. You looked at your mom, but Rose offered no assistance, just shooting another disappointed look at you.

You dryly swallowed, eyes darting to Rafe who was standing behind Ward with his arms crossed, an amused smirk on his lips that all but dared you to tell your stepfather who had really been warming your bed.

More tears spilled past your lashes and you shook your head, pressing your lips together in a frown. Of course you couldn’t tell Ward and Rose it was Rafe, but it was not like you wanted to pin the blame on anyone else.

“I- I don’t know,” your eyes were on the floor but the heat of Ward’s glare made you feel like you were six feet under. You had seen Ward look at Rafe in this way so many times before, but he had never had a reason to scold you.

“You don’t know?” He repeated in disbelief, and you could feel your guilt and humiliation eating you alive.

“No, I don’t,” you quietly responded, daring to look up and meet his gaze, not missing the triumphant grin on Rafe’s face.

“What the fuck, Y/N?! I mean, you’ve never had a boyfriend in 17 years and now you’re knocked up and you don’t even know who the father is? You haven’t even graduated high school yet for Christ’s sake!” Ward spat at you, and you felt your face burning.

“I- I could get an abortion, I mean, I know we could afford it,” you stammered out, more tears falling and staining your cheeks.

“Like hell you will!” He shouted at you and you recoiled at his anger. “No child of mine is going to murder her baby. You know that goes against every one of our values, Y/N!”

You felt hopeless about the situation, and Ward was only making you feel worse. You could feel a panic attack coming on and you could barely breathe.

When you staggered away from him, trying to walk past him to leave, he moved in front of you, blocking your path.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”

“For a drive!” You spat out in annoyance. You would come back and deal with the fallout of this later, but now you desperately needed space.

“You’re not going anywhere, Y/N. As of tonight, you’re grounded indefinitely. I can’t trust you to have a car if you’re going to be making so many irresponsible decisions.”

“But Ward! This isn’t fair!” You cried out in shock.

“Well, you should have thought about that before you got pregnant and tried to keep it a secret from me, Y/N!” His words shot through you, only compounding your helplessness in the situation.

Through it all, you couldn’t ignore Rafe’s burning gaze on you.

“The only time you’re allowed to leave this house is when you’re going to school or when in the company of me, your mom, or Rafe. Is that understood?”

“B-but what about with Sarah?” You asked, hopeful that he had just misspoken, but the shake of his head confirmed that it was intentional.

“I’m not gonna let you sneak out with her to see the same Pogues that probably got you pregnant in the first place! Now give me your car keys.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you handed your car keys and freedom away. You couldn’t believe that Ward finding out had gone this bad, and there was only one person to blame for telling him.

Rafe.

As if taking your virginity, fucking you against your will several times, and now knocking you up wasn’t enough for him.

Now he had even more control over you, and seeing as Ward had just grounded you, it’s not like you could get away from him at home.

With tears still burning in your eyes, you ran to your room, locking the door behind you and collapsing onto your bed to cry.

You must have fallen asleep at some point because the next time you cracked your eyes open, you realized it was pitch black outside your window.

There was a clicking sound coming from the other side of your door, and by the time your exhausted brain put together what it could be, your door was swinging open and then closing shut again as Rafe stalked in.

“You should know by now that a locked door won’t stop me, Y/N,” he chuckled cruelly. You sat up in bed, now wide awake as adrenaline coursed through your body. Your eyes were locked on Rafe as he approached the foot of your bed.

“Rafe, please! If you don’t leave right now, I swear to god, I’ll scream.” Your threats did nothing to deter him. He was bigger than you, stronger. Overpowering you was easy for him.

Which is why you knew he was pissed when he was using more force than usual, he wanted to hurt you for daring to lock him out of your room. You were stunned into silence after he landed a slap on your cheek that left your ears ringing.

Rafe chuckled as he discarded his shorts before tugging at and ripping your clothes, “I’m gonna miss roughing you up, Y/N. Won’t be able to do that in a couple weeks.”

You struggled against him hard, but you were never any match for your older brother’s strength.

You cried when he held your legs open and forced himself inside you. Your tight walls weren’t prepared, and for a few moments he just held you in place as he basked in the feeling of you clenching around his cock before tilting his hips back and pushing into you again.

At the sound of your cry, one of Rafe’s hands snaked around your throat, while the other covered your mouth, insuring that you couldn’t be too loud.

He was filling you up to the brim with every stroke, anger evident in his speed, which was now picking up.

“They always liked you more than me,” he hissed, venom dripping for his voice as he pushed his cock into you at a brutal pace. “Well let’s see how much Ward and Rose like you now that you’re a disappointment too.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #stepbro!rafe cameron #rafe cameron dubcon #just this once

[loveinhawkins]

Every so often, Eddie will get the bus to Starcourt Mall (because what else is there to do?) and watch the world go by.

It’s not like he’s above a cliché or two—maybe he wants to indulge in being a lone figure within the crowd. Maybe he just feels like wallowing in the aimlessness of it all, damn it.

This is where Wayne would point out that Eddie is exactly the opposite of aimless, what with how he’d stormed into the trailer last month, failed test results in hand and snarled, “Next year. I’ll fuckin’ show ‘em.”

But there’s a long time between now and the new school year starting, the summer stretching out before him like taffy. He’d tried to start his reading list early again, but that’s never done him much good; this time he’d gotten through one chapter of Moby-fucking-Dick before despairing.

So. People-watching at the mall it is.

It’s surprisingly not all that terrible an activity, apart from discovering which teachers are suddenly very passionate about jazzercise—a sight Eddie could’ve blissfully lived the rest of his life without seeing.

There’s also the confirmation that the Starcourt commercial he saw was not a vivid hallucination—that Scoops Ahoy is, in fact, real.

And so are the ridiculous sailor outfits.

Well, I’ll be damned, Eddie thinks.

Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are an incredibly unlikely duo. It’s like the universe abandoned all sense, spun a wheel and paired them up just for the fun of it.

When he joins the line for ice-cream, Eddie initially thinks he’ll find the whole thing laughable: seeing people forced to work together when usually the laws of the universe (and Hawkins High) would keep them as far apart as possible.

But then he discovers that the ice-cream parlor is packed, one hell of a bottleneck forming right up at the counter, where folks are waiting for a seemingly never-ending amount of floats to be poured.

It takes a while for Eddie to near the front of the line; enough time passes that he honestly feels kind of bad for even taking up a spot, for adding to the workload that has Robin shouting herself hoarse with every, “Next please!”

He strongly considers just leaving, but he hesitates for a moment too long, and unintentionally meets eyes with…

“Hi,” Steve says, pleasantly enough, if a little distracted as he prods at the soda machine. He smiles apologetically. “Be with you in a sec.”

Eddie almost wants to tell him you know it’s me, right? He doesn’t.

It’s not that he expects Steve to be mean, exactly; it’s just that he’s getting more than familiar with the whole post graduation routine. It’s like there’s a secret page in folks’ yearbooks, instructing them to look at anyone still attached to high school with either indifference or embarrassment—or both.

Steve must not have got the memo.

“Next!”

Robin beckons Eddie forward with a sweeping arm gesture, looks somewhere behind him and sighs in relief, puffing out her cheeks.

“Oh, thank God. You stopped the tide.”

Eddie glances over his shoulder; sure enough, he’s the last person left to order.

“Don’t think I’ve got that power, Buckley.”

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Debatable.”

Eddie almost laughs. There was a rumour in his first attempt at senior year that he could curse people: it only came about because he ominously whispered some Pig Latin he’d once overheard Robin herself use during History, and Molly Pritchard crossed herself in horror.

“I’ll have a vanilla cup.”

“Ooh,” Robin says dryly, “adventurous.”

“Nothing wrong with a classic,” Eddie says.

Robin smirks as she rings him up. They don’t know each other that well, but there’s admittedly something nice in the distant familiarity they share; at the very least, she’s not gonna add to any potential awfulness when school starts again.

While Robin hands over his change, Steve is filling up a cup—Eddie would say he’s uncharacteristically quiet, except for the fact that he doesn’t actually know what truly is characteristic of Steve Harrington.

Plus he’s stuck on the fact that he only paid for one scoop, but the amount of ice-cream Steve manages to cram in is almost double that.

And he does this ridiculous little twirly thing with the scooper before he even reaches for the tray of vanilla.

Eddie tells himself he notices just because the move is so stupid; it’s definitely not because he’s noticing Steve’s hands in general. It’s just… eyes get drawn to movement. That’s all.

“Syrup?” Steve asks, nodding his head at the dispensers.

“Sure,” Eddie says. “Strawberry.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Oh, don’t do that, man. Get it with butterscotch.”

Robin’s eyes rise to the heavens, as if some longstanding argument has begun once again.

“And why should I do that, Harrington?” Eddie says.

“Because,” Steve says, like he’s patiently explaining that two plus two equals four, “butterscotch is better. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Robin parrots mockingly. She closes the register drawer and says, “I’m taking my break, Popeye. Try not to judge the customers too hard.”

Eddie’s pretty sure he hears Steve mutter under his breath as she leaves, “Seriously? You’re worse than me.”

His cup of ice-cream is under hostage, apparently. Steve still hasn’t pressed down on the damn syrup pump.

“This your usual sales technique?” Eddie says. “Browbeating the customers?”

“Only the lucky ones,” Steve returns mildly.

Eddie scoffs. “Fine. Gimme the damn butterscotch then.”

“Knew you’d come to your senses,” Steve says.

He hands the cup over without any more quips; just as he’s done with the syrup, a large family swoops in with multiple sundae orders.

Eddie eats the ice-cream while waiting for the bus back home. He grudgingly has to admit that the butterscotch isn’t bad.

But that’s not really what’s bugging him.

He has to know if it’s a fluke—if maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington only deigned to talk to him because he was, like… delirious or something. Maybe the flood of demanding customers scrambled his brain.

Of course, when Eddie goes back to the mall, it’s purely to test his theory. Strictly observational—educational, even. Like… summer school. (Take that, O’Donnell.)

The bus drops them off a little bit before the mall actually opens, but they’re allowed inside anyway. Eddie inwardly cringes at the sight of grown adults tapping persistently on the windows of still closed stores. Jesus Christ, they’re worse than zombies.

Scoops Ahoy isn’t open yet either; Eddie’s soon witness to a very stressed looking Steve striding over to unlock the place.

He flits in and out of view for a while, taking mops round to the back, filling up the jars of toppings.

Eddie actually considers heading over to Waldenbooks to check if it’s open (it’s not like he’s coming here for one store in particular, obviously), but then he hears metal clacking against the tiles.

When he looks back at Scoops Ahoy, he spots a set of keys on the ground right at the entrance, Steve nowhere in sight.

Goddamn it. He’s gonna have to be a Good Samaritan. Ugh.

Eddie briefly looks up to the ceiling as if he can condemn the ways of the universe from here. Then he sighs, picks up the keys and steps into the store.

“Harrington, you dropped these—”

“Shit,” comes Steve’s voice from the back, followed by an almighty clatter.

Eddie hesitates before his curiosity inevitably wins out.

He goes behind the register, through the door and finds the aftermath of complete disaster: Steve standing in front of an entire vat of ice-cream that’s been dropped onto the floor. It’s splattered all up his legs, cookies and cream clinging to the hairs.

Holy shit, stop thinking about his leg hair, Eddie thinks.

Up until this point in time, he’d believed it was physically impossible to look anything other than comical in that stupid sailor outfit.

(Well. Almost.)

But right now Steve looks absolutely tragic. Like he’s a crew member on the Titanic levels of tragic, and he’s about to deliver the news that there’s simply no more lifeboats.

Steve meets Eddie’s gaze.

“That was limited edition,” he says pitifully.

They both look down at the floor.

“Well,” Eddie says. “It definitely is now. Still, uh, what’s the phrase? No use crying over spilled… ice-cream.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna cry over it,” Steve says. “I’m gonna scream.” For a moment he looks murderous. “Robin’s not coming in.”

“Is she sick?”

Steve snorts. “Sick my ass. No, she’s keeping The Hawk in business—gonna see a movie about an ice-cream parlor, something like that.”

“An ice-cream parlor,” Eddie echoes. “Um. Are you sure she didn’t just make it up?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s one of those foreign—never mind.”

He cuts himself off, lifts up one foot, as if he’s become aware of his predicament all over again.

“I was fine with her ditching, she can do whatever; it’s not like we have managers checking up on us. But I forgot a huge delivery was coming, and it’s Saturday so it’s gonna be crazy, so I’m not gonna have time to put all of it in the freezer or check the stock chart, so it’s all just gonna become fucking soup, Jesus, maybe I should just throw everything on the floor and—”

“I could help,” Eddie interrupts, because apparently a little alien has burrowed into his brain and now he just says things.

Steve stares at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Yeah, uh, sorry,” Eddie says. He wishes his brain-invading alien an immediate death. “Bad idea, just—”

“No, I mean why would you do that? Dude, it’s not like I can pay you or—”

“I don’t really have plans,” Eddie says—oh great, the alien hasn’t died! “Uh, you can pay me with, like, a name tag?” What? Stop talking. “Like a souvenir?” Stop! “Oh sorry,” Steve says, as if on automatic pilot. He pulls at his shirt. “We don’t have—our names are stitched on.”

I was kidding about the name tag. Actually, maybe you should just murder me instead.

By some miracle, Eddie’s expression must somehow still look fairly normal because Steve continues, deadly serious, “Munson. Are you sure?”

This is the time to back out—

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Look, man, it’s no big deal. I can clean this up and—”

A bell starts ringing from the front, being struck over and over again in the most obnoxious way possible.

Something in Steve’s eyes flickers, a shift from panic into planning mode, and Eddie has the sudden bizarre feeling that this is what the basketball team saw whenever a crisis timeout was called.

“You sure you’re okay if I leave you back here?” Steve asks, and the gravity with which he says it threatens to send Eddie into hysterics—Christ, you’d think they were in the goddamn trenches.

“Think I’ll survive,” Eddie says. “I’m basically cleaning up, and putting everything into the freezer?”

Steve nods. “And, um, a stock check too, if that’s okay? There’s a chart pinned up, you just gotta count the flavours and put, like, tally marks next to—”

“Oh my God, not tally marks,” Eddie drawls. “The horror.”

Steve huffs. “I was just—”

The bell rings even more insistently.

“Uh, think you’re needed on the front line,” Eddie says.

He nearly chokes on his own spit when Steve turns to just march right on out there.

“Harrington, wait! Your—your legs,” he says weakly.

Steve has the audacity to look puzzled. “What about them?”

They’re very long.

Eddie gestures silently to the ice-cream on the floor, then attempts a vague hovering motion in the direction of Steve’s legs.

Steve’s eyes go wide in realisation. His cheeks turn slightly red. “Oh! Yeah, um, thanks. Um. I’ll just…”

He disappears into the world’s tiniest restroom, comes back free of cookies and cream before heading out to the front.

Well, Eddie thinks to the mop he finds, this is definitely a situation.

It’s not the worst way he’s spent a few hours, apart from having to listen to a Sailor’s Hornpipe on loop through the speakers (he briefly wonders how Robin and Steve stay sane). He cleans up, gets the rest of the delivery into the freezer, even jots down some tally marks, wonder of wonders.

Steve will occasionally slide back the shutters and pop his head in, passing over a soda.

“Employee perks,” he says, then has to hurriedly retreat to keep serving.

Eddie keeps waiting for the stiltedness to set in, but it seems Steve’s far too busy for there to be any awkwardness.

At midday the shutter slides back again and Steve says, “Hey, can you do me one last thing, and I’ll never ask you for anything ever again, I swear.”

“Harrington, you’ve technically never asked me for anything. Gimme the mission.”

Turns out the mission is just to use some employee only coupons at Burger King so Steve can take his lunch.

Eddie returns to Scoops Ahoy with two burgers to find that Steve’s strategically placed a pile of chairs and wet floor signs at the threshold to deter people from entering.

There’s also a hand-drawn sign on top of one of the chairs: Out for Lunch. Underneath, there’s a horrendously bad drawing of a ship on choppy waves.

Eddie tries very hard to not find it endearing.

He gives Steve a burger, hops onto the table in the back and starts eating his own.

A quarter of the way through, he realises that he could leave now—he’s done everything Steve’s asked, and Steve’s already said he can manage the remaining shift on his own now that the delivery’s been put away.

Huh. Well, he’s already gone to all the effort of sitting here…

Steve’s quiet for most of his lunch. Eddie doesn’t mind; he enjoys his free food, comes up with a half-baked campaign idea before discarding it, counts every tile in the room…

Looks over.

Steve’s sat with one leg hunched up to his chest, a book resting on his knee—the cover’s folded over the back as he reads, the spine broken. Eddie doesn’t know why on earth it’s attractive, but it is; he feels like some mooning middle schooler, entranced by the way their stupid crush eats spaghetti or some bullshit like that.

But then again, there’s always been an easy grace to Steve Harrington.

A beeping noise; Steve checks his wristwatch with a sigh.

“Ugh.”

He leaves the book on the table, at just the right angle for Eddie to read the title: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.

“Is it good?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m only a couple chapters in, so…” Steve shrugs. “Honestly, it’s the most I’ve read since starting high school.”

And Eddie gets that: the senior years he’s suffered through have left him each time with a brain like a wrung out sponge, not even having the energy for Tolkien.

God. At this rate he’s never gonna read for fun ever again.

His face must do something because Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, a little hesitant, “Hey, I’m sorry you never, uh… made it through, y’know? You—you were so close, man.” Eddie doesn’t bother wasting time on being pissed that Steve knows some of the details: ‘test results’ and ‘confidentiality’ don’t exactly go together in Hawkins High.

“Yeah, uh. Thanks. Here’s hoping third time’s the charm.”

Steve claps his shoulder. “You’ll do it, it was just tough this year. Like, I scraped through, trust me.”

Eddie snorts—he would literally kill to have a handful of Steve’s grades.

“Think my definition of ‘scraped through’ is different to yours.”

He helps Steve disassemble the mountain of chairs, and now it really is obvious that he could just leave; he only has to take a few steps, and then he’s out of there.

But he pauses.

The store is still empty.

Eddie shuffles back from the doorway. “Ice-cream for the road?”

Steve laughs. “Sure. Least I can do.”

He doesn’t ask Eddie what he wants, just serves a vanilla cup with butterscotch syrup.

Eddie suddenly feels himself fighting a smile. “Think you’ve got an agenda, man.”

“Nope. Just giving you the superior choice, Munson.”

Then Steve picks up an empty cup and pours more butterscotch into it, nothing else. He knocks it back like a shot. “Gross,” Eddie says.

Steve flashes him a syrup-streaked grin.

It’s so… juvenile.

If it wasn’t for the fact that they’re in a mall, Eddie would almost think that he’d gone back a few years, made an unexpected temporary friend that goofed off with him in the back of the class.

He finishes his ice-cream as more people flock to the counter; in what seems like no time at all, Steve’s ushering Eddie out, pulling down the security grille.

It feels a bit like a soap bubble has burst. Like the bell’s unexpectedly rung at the end of last period, in a class he was actually enjoying, against all odds.

Steve does say, quite sincerely, “Thanks, Munson. You didn’t have to… you really saved my ass.”

Eddie’s about to clumsily work his way through some reply about how it was nothing, but then they really do have to go, because some stern-faced security guard’s staring like he might vaporise them.

It’s just one day, Eddie thinks. A… what’s-it-called. An anomaly.

But he goes back to the mall the next afternoon. He doesn’t bother to make up an excuse even in his own head.

Scoops Ahoy is somehow even more packed this time—Steve’s serving up samples while Robin’s back at the register, and when she sees Eddie coming, she points at the vanilla, mouths, “The classic?”

He chuckles, nods. “How was your movie, Buckley?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” she says serenely. “I was very sick.” She coughs delicately.

“Praying for your miraculous recovery.”

He gets vanilla with butterscotch syrup (just because Robin’s the closest to that particular dispenser, that’s all).

It’s so busy that once Robin’s finished at the register, she starts filling orders alongside Steve. When Eddie picks up his cup, they barely look at him, surrounded by other cups and plastic bowls laid out for ice-cream.

Figures. Eddie knows it’s not personal. Just. Soap bubble’s burst, and all that.

He’s almost out the store when he hears a whistle.

“Hey, Munson! Go long!”

“Fuck off, no,” Eddie says automatically, a response drilled into him from many a compulsory Phys Ed class.

But he turns, just in time to see Steve throw something at him. He catches it—it’s plastic, round—somehow manages to keep a hold of his ice-cream, too.

Steve gives a brief thumbs up, before he’s back to scooping. He still finds time to do that stupid twirl move again.

Once outside, Eddie opens up his hand. Snorts.

It’s a shitty white badge, chipped in several places. His name’s scrawled on it in red marker, a cartoony anchor in the upper right corner.

On the bus home, Eddie mulls over the thought of flicking through a couple chapters of The Hobbit, something like that. No pressure, no notes—no imagining the year ahead, a teacher looming over his shoulder. Just for fun.

There’s plenty of time.

He puts his souvenir in his pocket, takes another spoonful of ice-cream.

And he has to admit that butterscotch is pretty damn good.

#my second scoops fic! such a fun setting #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[ecoamerica]

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[thatbitchery]

& remember the first sign of a loser loser loser loser is hating school. Yall should've unfollowed me 2023 this year I'm laying it on you as is.

If you're not in some sort of murder level clas enroll right now. & it has to be so hard it feels like a death sentence

Ladies any form of "escape the matrix" and "you don't need school" & whatever school hating content out there is level down programming meant to keep you stuck and weak. School is the closest imitation to real life you get so dropping a class because it's too hard is your sign to tie yourself to your moms basement and never leave because you sure as heaven not making it in corporate, business, friendships, relationships, and, God Forbid, parenting. You Manifest a future as a stone because that's the most you can do with that mentality. Dropping out because you have anxiety is another great sign to move to the Amazon and cosplay a sloth because if you think there are human interactions in the adult world that won't make you feel anxious ahhh baby my baby. You got it so wrong, baby. If you can't focus in a 30 minute lesson just take your dream board & burn it up burn it upp and try your hand at being a house fly you'll have better luck. If you drop a class because you don't like the teacher stay as far away from romantic relationships and friendships and , especially, corporate & entrepreneurship because girly don't we have news for ya. Can't manage your time? And you want to be a CEO? Are you kidding?

School is the closest imitation to real life you get & the better you are at it the better you are at life, the harder your school life is the better your real life will be. & I mean take biochem engineering & aeronautical engineering first year college, get your ass run over by it BUT learn to sit still, to power through, teamwork, study techniques, etc so no one cares about your A [fun fact most A students don't make it] but did you power through it? K then junior year do the thing you actually like.

Not liking school for whatever reason is loser mentality if you couldn't make it past test drive what makes you think you'll make it on the highway. Back in high-school when I told my grandma I'm giving up on my scholarship because I'm getting bullied and tortured and ostracized her response wasn't a hug it was a slipper grandma of color style because do you think that won't happen in your adulthood? You think you run from a problem and it goes away? Go back in and make it tf. Notice how I'm not focused on what grade you get? My friend works at firm (one of the top of the country) that don't employ people with a history of As , it's not about academic excellence, can you get to cheer practise at 6 am and be in class by 7? What makes you think you can be a mom then? "Independent" can you schedule yourself? Manage classes, sports, hobbies, a part-time job, home chores , friendships, and free time? WHAT DO YOU THINK ADULTHOOD IS ABOUT? what makes you think running from that in school (where you have guidance & forced community) will keep you safe? Out here you're all alone sis. And now the government protects you like a treasure that ID days 18 and its up to you to protect yourself. If you can not sit still in a 30 minutes class you don't like what makes you think you're cut out for corporate? Yall ain't never left your moms house and it shows, no one that has been in the real world has that level of delulu.

Pick the damn calculus class & power from an E to a C- so when you're running your business & you meet hard things you dislike you have muscle memory to power through it & bc your business is something you like it's easier. Go to school with the girls that dislike you & find a way out of that so when your mom in law or officemates are being flaky you know what to do, you don't run. Sit through that class with that one homphobic sexist bigoted teacher so when you land a job at your dream firm you don't resign in six days and sabotage shit because you're delulu enough to think your little tantrum matters.

School , especially boarding school, is the closest imitation to real life you get. Power through it, take advantage of the resources & always chase the hardships now that you have people charged with guiding you so you're not 25 unmotivated with no accomplishment despite your A's , barely functional adult feeling like a loser because you let tiktok & escape the matrix bojo creators lie to you. Do you want to be one of those 35 year olds heavy on magical thinking because you didn't learn what your parents literally paid for you to learn under the guise of 'self care'. Don't be dumb dumb.

Success spills over

[behidethetrees]

HOLD MY HEART, ITS BEATING FOR YOU ANYWAY.

IN WHICH… You’re ethans dream girl!

Pairing: Ethan landry x Fem! Reader

Contents: non-gf! Ethan, Reader is bffs with Tara and Anika <3, Chad is definitely Ethan’s biggest hypeman, This is set in the 2000s!!

THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! my blog got deleted so I have to re-upload all my fics :( but nonetheless enjoy!!

HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR YEAR 2005 ;

Ethan has had his eye on you for a while.

Since junior year of high school when you asked him for the algebra notes, he's been completely infatuated with you. He had daydreamed about you and everything he would do for you once you became his.

He was so sure you two would tie the knot soon that he started to plan your future together. He dreamed about having a big house with two cats, a good-paying job so he can spoil you, maybe even kids. But he couldn't have any of that if he hadn't talked to you yet.

he decided to take matters into his own hands, He was going to talk to you. He thought of all the different ways he would approach you But every time he tried, Once he got close enough to you, he would always back down because of how nervous you made him.

Ethan felt as if you were getting farther from him Until one day when you asked for the notes again…

"I- uhm, can tutor you if you want." Ethan blurts out

"tutor me? You think I'm stupid?" you said in that sickly sweet voice of yours which, at that moment, didn't feel all too sweet.

"NO!, oh God uhm-no that's not what I meant. I'm so sorry I didn't mean it like that, It's just uh we have a test soon so I didn't know if-" Ethan started to ramble. He had fantasized about you for too long to let you slip away. He wasn't going to let it happen.

"I'm just fucking with you, here's my number." you laugh as you tear a piece of paper from your notebook and grab Ethan's pen from his hand.

Ethan was sure he was seeing hearts around his vision. Ethan had made YOU laugh, Ethan's heart was pumping out of his chest. As you handed him the paper, smiled, and thanked him he had to force himself not to kiss you right then and there.

Every tutor session ended with you two just talking and getting to know each other. Ethan studied you. he memorized what you liked, didn't like, your favorite foods, the shows you liked, everything you told him he would remember.

As you two became closer, Ethan became more and more devoted to you. You two went shopping? He’d carry your bags. Out for food? He’d pay. Simply walking towards a door? He’d hold the door open for you. You had started to consider Ethan a best friend and that made Ethan's stomach hurt with excitement.

When you introduced Ethan to the group, of course, Chad took a quick liking in him, So much so they're now roommates at Blackmore. Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Chad at first. How close you guys were, how comfortable, How much trust you put in him, Everybody loved Chad and his personality, Chad had a higher chance of being with you than Him Ethan thought, and something about that made Ethan's jaw clench harder every time, But he would never admit this.

BLACKMORE UNIVERSITY, SOPHMORE YEAR 2008;

When you got that text from Ethan, Tara grabbed your pink flip phone and freaked out.

“Oh my god! y/n you HAVE to accept this!” Tara yelled as she grabbed your shoulders and shook you.

“Why this restaurant though? Why does he want to go that far out for food?” You said with too much obliviousness that it hurt everyone in the room.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Anika started “ He likes you! He's taking you to a fancy dinner to tell you, There's no other reason why he would want you to go that far out for a hamburger!”

“I don't think he does though, I think he likes that girl in our econ class” You said, The thought of that makes your heart hurt. You had liked ethan for awhile, He was so kind and attentive, If you asked him for help, He would be there in a heartbeat. He treated you with so much respect and gentleness you knew no one else could give you like he did.

“Jill? Are you kidding? You're so blind.” Tara says “Well he looks at her sometimes-” You start getting defensive.

“She sits in front of him Y/N. I promise you he doesn't like her, if he does he's an idiot!” Tara yells.

Anika agrees with a loud yeah!

“Whatever but I still don't think he likes me, we're just friends.” In your gut, you knew that was a lie but you kept telling yourself it wasn't.

“He has heart eyes every time he looks at you y/n. He's definitely in love with you.” Anika said, Tara laughs.

The whole afternoon Tara and Anika helped you get ready and pick out what to wear. You all decided on a y/f/c colored dress with some dark shoes. Tara straighten your hair and Anika did your nails and picked out your perfume.

“He's gonna be more in love with you than he already is!” Tara says, You laugh as Tara and Anika hug you.

Ethan was sitting in the booth of a fancy restaurant that was quite the drive from Blackmore. Chad had finally convinced Ethan to ask you out and when you agreed, Chad's plan was finally in motion. Ethan smelled like Chad's cologne and was dressed in expensive clothes Chad had brought him, a baby blue collared shirt with grey dress pants. Ethan's curls were somehow curlier and out of his face, he looked like a ‘million bucks’ according to Chad.

As you walk in you noticed a group of three sitting to the left of the entrance, All dressed in black, sunglasses, and their hair covering their faces, One of them looked like Anika, You almost laughed. What you didn't notice was Ethan's eyes going wide as he saw you walk in. How his blood started rushing and his heart was about to explode.

“Hey y/n!’ Ethan awkwardly gets up from his seat, He puts his hands on your waist to pull you into a hug.

“Hey Ethan.” you say as you lean into his touch, placing your arms around his neck. It was a short but an effective hug. You too, were now nervous.

As Ethan lets go, You exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You sat across from Ethan and looked at the menu, but Ethan didn't. Ethan was looking at you. Admiring you. How focused you were, how your eyebrows moved up a bit if you saw something that looked good, how you played with your silver ring, taking it off and putting it back on your finger.

“ I think I want to try this, Ethan are you looking?” you ask as you move the menu to show Ethan, “ Are you okay?” You noticed Ethan was just staring down.

“I uhm, need to tell you something.” Ethan says softly. Was he really about to do this?

“Oh okay” Ethan saw you fidget with your ring again, He knew you were just as nervous as he was.

Ethan looked down at his hand to remember what to say- oh crap, Ethan's black ink was smudged from washing his hands. Ethan cursed himself in his head for being so dumb. Ethan breathed in deeply, trying not to panic. What was he supposed to say now?

Ethan picked up his head but avoided making eye contact with you, But you on the other hand were looking right into his hazel eyes that still somehow shined even in the dimed lights.

“I don't know if this is weird because we're friends and I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” Ethan starts, He knew this wasn't the best way to start but he didn't know what else to say. “If you don't feel the same that's okay, And if you don't want to be friends after this thats fine too-” Ethan is stalling.

“Ethan what are you saying?” You knew what was coming but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Its nothing bad! I just uhm, like you.” Ethan mumbles while scratching his face.

“What?” You heard him, You just wanted him to say it again.

“ I like you y/n, I've liked you for so long it's making me crazy.” Ethan's mouth begins to move faster than his brain. “ I've loved you ever since I've known you and- and I've tried to show you, The best days of my life revolve around you, it's always been you.” Ethan doesn't notice that you get up and start to walk to his side of the booth.

“ I’d do anything you want, I already do everything you want and I'm sorry if this is weird but your all I want-” You grab Ethan's hand from his lap as you sit next to him, Now he notices.

“Ethan how could i not like you? Youre like, the best person ive ever met.” You make sure he looks you in your eyes so he knows you really mean it.

“ You have so much kindness and patience and i admire that so much, You make me feel loved.” You say as you lean in to kiss him. Ethan was caught off guard but slowly he grabs your hips as you place your hand on the side of his arm. It was a long passionate kiss filled with years of yearning and love for each other.

As you began to pull away you see the same 3 weird people from the other table in front of you.

“Tara?!” It was Tara, Anika, and Chad dressed up, Anika Was recording.

“Is it official?” Tara asks with excitement. You and Ethan looked at each other before smiling and turning to the others and nodding.

Immediately Tara grabs you out of the booth and hugs you so tight you felt like you couldn't breathe, Anika also joining in. Chad and Ethan do their handshake they’ve practice for over a year, this time they perfected it.

“Dinner is on me!” Chad yells.

A/N; Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed!

Requests

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x you #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #jack champion #scream imagine #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry smut #ethan landry fic #jack champion fic #jack champion x reader

[makelemonade]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

Characters; All the Harbingers (including Scaramouche and Signora)

Genre: Modern!AU

Summary; A little girl Pierro found after her family abandoned her in the cold winter of Snezhnaya. How will the Harbingers deal with her growing up in their organization?

Warnings; mentions of abandonment, bullying, scara and Dottore not caring abt u for like a millisecond, implied nudes but it’s not direct, if you squint there’s a little Pantalone/Signora but It can be seen as platonic

Notes; uhm so ‘organization’ for the harbingers can live up to yalls perspectives since it’s a Modern!AU. I didn’t wanna say Mafia so imagine to your hearts content.

y’all I would deadass turn this into a series if anyone asked or it got a lot of attention

Support me on Kofi! Link is on masterlist <3 read under the cut!

context; pierro, who found you as a little girl all alone in the snow and came to the assumption that you were left and abandoned here on his walk towards his work. He couldn’t just leave you there all alone to die from the sheer cold, so he brings you to his work, and tries to get any information out of you. You’re too young and small to say anything, but comes to the conclusion with the constant crying, you were indeed abandoned.

Also, imagine the work place is also their home or wtv and they havé rooms (basically the Tsaritsa’a castle)

Pierro, who doesn’t care if you call him by his name or ‘ dad’ when you start to grow up, but he can’t deny the small happy feeling in his chest when he hears you call him dad.

Pierro, who is not always physically there due to work and being away frequently, but tries his best to spend time with you during all his free time.

Pierro, who starts to realize that he has a lot to teach you once you enter high school, but figured maybe he should get one of the female-harbingers to talk to you about uh, certain, stuff

Pierro, who makes sure to be very protective of you and always has someone watching over you. Sometimes he tends to be overprotective when you wanna go out to certain places, but get one of the Harbingers or even his boss to talk to him and he’ll probably change his mind.

Capitano, who always found you absolutely adorable ever since you were brought to the workplace and would coo under his helmet

Capitano, who lets you play with his helmet when he has to take care of you while the others are too busy with work.

Capitano, who would give you piggy back rides once you were a bit taller and older so you wouldn’t easily fall off his back.

Capitano, who is also just as overprotective as Pierro, but he can’t help but let you go out when you plead with your adorable puppy eyes. As long as he knows where you are at all times, you’re free.

Colombina, who would sing you lullabies fo sleep whenever you had trouble sleeping- especially on the first night you arrived, too scared to fall asleep.

Colombina, who would sing karaoke with you on some fun nights, even if it was Barbie songs or whatever childhood shows the others made you watch.

Colombina, who surprisingly, was the first to teach you how to read given her love for reading you bedtime stories whenever Pierro was away.

Dottore, who being fully honest, didn’t have much of a care for you in the world. It’s one day when little you is clinging to the fabric of his pants, little hands up in the air and grabbing the air, he can’t help but pick you up and hold you.

Dottore, who grabs your wrist with Pantalone as they hold it under the sink after your kindergarten teacher told Pierro you held hands with a boy. They had to wash his touch off of you. Cooties, you know?

Dottore, who helps you ace every single science assignment and test all throughout middle school and high school.

Pulcinella, who made a promise to himself and whatever god was out there that he’d be a second father to you the moment he heard that you were abandoned.

Pulcinella, who instead of teaching you to read like Colombina, teaches you math to make sure you don’t fall behind in the difficult subject, and always helps you with your homework. If you take a liking to politics in high school, he’ll be happy to teach you the basics and join him for his daily life as the mayor.

Pulcinella, who does his job as mayor and makes sure to find you the top ranked daycare, elementary, middle and high school in all of Snezhnaya. Money wise don’t matter, especially to all of them.

Scaramouche, who also didn’t give one single shit about you when you came and was a lot more stubborn than Dottore. It’s not until probably a lot longer later, when you come back from daycare crying about how kids bullied you for being adopted, when he realizes you’re just like him- the both of were you abandoned.

Scaramouche, who when is alone with child you, likes to hide his face behind his hands and opens them with a saying of “peek-a-boo!”. If not alone, he’s kind enough to let you play with his hat.

Scaramouche, who realizes that a child was able to let him soften up a bit, and that you gave him a new family.

Scaramouche, who teams up with Childe to make sure that absolutely NO ONE would defile you, and if someone did, Childe can make hassle of them.

Sandrone, who makes you little trinkets and baby toys when your first introduced to all the Harbingers.

Sandrone, who is usually the one to change Capitano or Pierro’s minds on their usual overprotectiveness.

Sandrone, who makes sure to protect you from the horrors of the world while growing up. She makes sure everything is age perfect for you, such as baby-proofing all the sharp edges when you were younger, she makes sure you don’t hear any of the subordinates being yelled at so you don’t get scared, and she sometimes joins in with Childe and Scaramouche to make sure no one defiles you.

Sandrone, who’s main goal will forever be to protect your innocence, even if it eventually gets ruined.

Signora, who is actually top on the Big Sister list. Like Sandrone, she wants to protect your innocence, but also reminds you that the world is not pure, and many people out there will want to ruin you.

(since this is modern, I’d like to say her and Childe are close to the same age, so she’s in her senior year when you’re in middle school)

Signora, who starts to give you friend advice once you enter middle school, because she’s had her fair share of deal of fake friends all through her years of middle school and high school.

Signora, who also gives you fashion advice or dresses you up for school every morning because lord knows Pierro’s fashion sense is horrible. She’s in her last year of high school (senior), so she’s seen all the good and bad fashion trends which means she’ll know just what’s right for you.

Signora, who is also the one who tried to get Capitano and Pierro to calm their overprotectiveness, but even she sometimes lets them win when she has a bad feeling about some high school party you want to go to.

Signora, who is your shoulder to cry on if a boy or girl ever breaks your heart. She is the big sister who tells you the no’s and yes’ of high school- no certain photos to men because they’re monsters at this age, no starting problems for the fun of it, but do make sure to have fun and if you’re dragged in a problem, finish it.

Pantalone, who spoils you ever since the first day you were introduced to them. He somehow beats Sandrone since he buys every single toy you’d point at in shops or see on ads.

Pantalone, who continues to spoil you through your years of aging as it would ascend from baby toys to fake jewelry, clothes, eventually real jewelry and makeup. He did want to give you real jewelry when you were little, but Dottore had to remind him you were a baby and would probably break it. Or eat it.

Pantalone, who glares at any guy you’ve taken an interest in. If instead of a guy it’s a girl, Arlecchino will take care of them if they break your heart.

Pantalone, who gives you money for literally every time you want to go out during your high school years. Movies, mall, trips- literally anything. It doesn’t matter how much, if you want 20$ he’ll give you 200$.

Pantalone, who did indeed turn on the sink and watched as Dottore grabbed your wrist and held it under the sink to wash off the touch of a little boy who held your hand in kindergarten.

Pantalone, who looks online or in stores with you and Signora for dresses when your homecoming and prom comes up. When he sees Signora looking at a dress she’d like for herself, he’ll buy it. He has to spoil his girls, and maybe the men coworkers if they’re being nice.

Arlecchino, who treats you just as any other kid in the orphanage she watches over, but she has a bit more of a soft spot for you.

Arlecchino, who also wants to protect your innocence, but decides instead that you need to know the horrors of the world and peoples real intentions. She did tell you all this at the age of 2 but all you did was angle your small little head to the side while Sandrone scolded her.

Arlecchino, who truthfully snd sadly, is hardly ever there, but if she ever sees something that reminds her of you on her work trips, she’ll make sure to buy it.

Arlecchino, who is not afraid to punch any man or women who tries to hurt you in any way.

Childe, who is probably the best big brother aside from Pantalone. He joined the Fatui when you were 11 and he was 14, so you two got along very easily and were constantly together.

Childe, who would pull pranks with you on the others but Dottore or Sandrone were quick to catch on with whatever you two would create and Pierro would end up lecturing you both.

Childe, who records literally everything the two of you do, whether it be sneaking out to go to parties, breaking something in the workplace or pranks you created. He has a lot of blackmail on you, comrade.

Childe, who promises you that whatever happens in high school, stays there, unless it’s horrible to the point he has to get your father involved.

Childe, who is in his last year (senior) while you’ve just started high school (freshman) and he threatens all the seniors to make sure no one looks at you in the wrong way because 1, it would probably be a felony given they’re all 18 and 2, the men in his grade are disgusting.

Childe, who once (not once he’s done it a bunch of times) beat up a guy in your grade for looking at you the wrong way. He had to stop when it was on the verge of expulsion, but he thinks the message got across to all the men. The ladies can deal with Signora, seeing as she can waltz in given she was an alumni.

Childe, who is now in university, but he decides to come back from his university to be your prom escort. He is still childish, and he did promise that what happens in high school, stays there, so if you both ditch prom later to get McDonald’s or go to a party, no one will ever know.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe x reader #pierro x you #pierro x reader #dottore x reader #dottore x you #columbina x reader #capitano x reader #capitano x you #la signora x reader #signora x reader #pulcinella x reader #sandrone x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x you #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin platonic #harbingers x reader #genshin harbingers #found family harbingers

[goldsbitch]

I could tell them where you were that night

part 3 to I gave so many signs

summary: They shouldn't. They really shouldn't...But they did.

warning: present + flashbacks, mature content, cheating, self pleasure, alcohol and smoking, typos

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

The Alibi - Dylan delicate - Taylor Swift

But if there was a crime If there was a body, if there was a knife If you told a real good, real bad lie I'd be standing by your side

Both of them knew this was not going to end well. This screamed "bad idea" on all levels. He should have just turned and run back home. She should have gone straight back to the bar as soon as she saw his unmistakable figure. There was no one to diffuse the tension, all of her friends were back upstairs ordering another drink. Nobody to play pretend to.

"So you're a smoker now," Charles said with a hint of disgust. She'd cursed herself for ever picking up the habit. He had never made her nervous back in the day, maybe she was cashing it in all now retroactively. Stood there like a lamb waiting for someone else to decide her destiny. Totally at his mercy and he had no idea. "Yeah, for a moment I was. Now just these," she pointed to the latest trendy vape in her hand, which Charles mistook for a cigarette. "Ah. Cool." "Not really," she said and inhaled extra large dose of fruity smoke just to breathe it in his face. The regular rules of proximity didn't seem to apply to to them. If he had been standing closer to her, he'd have to be touching her. "So, you're a runner now?" she took the opportunity she looked him up and down, trying not to let her imagination run too wild. "Always was." "No, you were not," she laughed genuinely. "What are you trying to play at here?" She was right. Charles picked up running with his first real girlfriend. "And what a bizarre thing anyway - to go for a run after a night out," she pointed out and he smirked, as both of them knew she got him with that. "I should not be seen with you for long. Doubt that you'd pass as a fan." It felt like an invitation from him, but she was well aware that he was not inviting her to his home. There was a strange spark in his face, as if he dared her to ask him to come over. Like a shameless devil testing her self control. "I'll take a cab and you can run over to my place. Let's see who'll get there first," she dared him back.

If there was a way That someone at the scene had saw your face I could tell 'em where you were that night You were standing by my side

"You should have told me that you parents were home!" he whispered angrily, as they snuck in like they used to back in the day. Funny how it worked like magic and Charles felt as if he just turned nineteen, terrified of running into Y/N's angry mom. "What? It's not like your place is empty, correct?" she shot arrows at him without waiting for an answer. Shot of guilt went thought Charles and he decided chased that by lying to himself, thinking that this was just a casual catch up with an old friend.

We can't make Any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink

Charles waited on the balcony adjacent to her old high school bedroom, that remained untouched for years, serving as a perfect door for nostalgia, while she made their favorite Moscow mule. He had tasted many of those since they last saw each other. None of those tasted so intoxicating like this one.

"So, big racer boy. Always wondered. Which out of the cities you go to is the most fun?" "Define fun. I'm sure your taste has evolved over the years." Yes, it had. No longer was she blind towards the god like man sitting across from her. "Ok, where did you fuck the most girls?" "Monaco," he smirked at her. He realized he enjoyed teasing her. No longer was he the shy love stuck puppy dancing as she demanded. "You became quite forward, huh? I remember you avoiding these subjects," he followed up, testing the waters. She gave him a long look, before letting a loud sigh out: "Charlie, it's been years. People change. Mature. Gain experience..." "And then come back to where they started, huh?"

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate

He leaned a little too close for an old time friend. Slowly, he touched her hand and waited for her to stop him. When she didn't, he tangled his fingers with hers. No longer were they soft baby hands, but adult fingers with tender touch. "I missed you," he said quietly. Old habit kicked in and she avoided his eye contact. But this time, he put his hand on her cheek and turned her face towards him, so that she couldn't just dismiss it, like she had so many times back then. "I missed you too." There was an urgency and a vulnerability that he had never heard from her before. It was addicting and intoxicating. He carefully closed the gap between them and their lips brushed so lightly that one could still pass it as friendly touch, if they really really wanted to. But with every second they kept their lips like that, the gap of morally safe evening kept closing inevitably. They stayed like that for just a few seconds, both of them waiting to see if the other one pulls away. Until finally, her lips moved slightly and then there really was no way back. Charles forgot that there ever was anyone else in his life and kissed her slowly. She took his bottom lip in and let her tongue lick it, breaking the soft kiss with urgency only years of daydreaming can bring.

Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Long night with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share

This was bad. Ugly, disrespectful and not something a friend would do. Charles was locked in room again having the luxury to spend few weeks in a sunny Monte Carlo. But sunny days at home also meant that he and Y/N were spending a lot of time together. Charles knew he was head-over-heels for this girl, but kept himself at bay. But these thoughts he was having were a little too much. Inappropriate. Made him feel dirty and shameful. He was just a teenage boy and he just came back from a beach day with his crush. It was impossible to focus on anything, he was suppose be studying for his exam, exploring race strategies, anything! He could have been a good son and helped his mom out. But no, instead he was pacing around his room, desperately trying to block all the images that got burned to his memory under that day's bright sunlight. Why did he even suggest a beach day - and why would she ever agree to that. Stupid idea. Charles was mad at himself for being so stereotypically teenage. For a split second, he stopped with the self-shame and allowed himself to recall this afternoon. Perfect Monaco sunlight hitting Y/N lightly tanned skin, her hair falling out of her messy bun, just begging for him to tuck it behind her ear. This was all still pretty innocent. But then there were the shoulders. The collarbone leading way towards her boobs, covered by a piece of bathing suite fabric, that pushed her cleavage up just a little bit, but it felt like a weapon designer specifically to destroy him. He had to stop himself from looking. When that proved impossible, he opted for looking only when he had his sunglasses on. If only he could take his hand and lightly brush over her nipples, which he couldn't forget about since the Moscow mule night. And then if only he could squeeze her boobs while tracing the line of her waste and over to her ass, also barely covered by a bathing suite. If only he was brave enough to do so, to make his wildest dreams come true and to confess his feelings. To have her come over to his place, look him suggestively in the eye, lick her lips and take him in her pretty little mouth. It didn't matter that she was slightly younger, in his fantasy she was the more experienced one, the one to guide him, instruct him and tell him what she likes. And once he learned, he would make her moan like nobody before, because he would adapt himself to any style she'd want. The visuals of a daydream extension of their today's hang out crept in, and there she was, taking her bra off and inviting him to join her in the water. Free, happy and heavenly hot. By some miracle he managed to avoid having a boner in her company. What he didn't manage was to stop stroking himself while drowning in the thoughts about her and her body, no matter how shameful it was for him. The best orgasm of his life yet had his hands covered with his cum and his head with clouded with growing, never-stoping need for a touch from his crush.

It was a different man kissing Y/N than the boy who had imagined it more times that he would ever admit. Yet still, he was getting to live out his ultimate fantasy, one that he almost forgot he had, until all the desire rushed back in and screamed so loudly he couldn't hear anything else. And the best thing? The best thing was that she was responding enthusiastically, felt as if she was hungry for something only he could have. He was a different man now, experienced, understood the spectrums of what touch could offer. The confidence radiated from him and it was Y/N who was now who danced way over the line of self control. It was her, who drank so much cheap wine in the form of men bad at sex, that she could finally appreciate the Montrachet Chardonnay she overlooked the first time around.

"We should get inside, mon cheri," he whispered into her lips. She understood why and did not want to hear him say it. Because in his silence, she could insert any thought and that was probably better than the hard truth - they were too exposed on her balcony. She nodded and slowly opened her eyes. Even with the dim lights she saw the tender spark in the most captivating shade of blue the world can offer.

Oh damn, never seen that color blue Just think of the fun things we could do

He pressed her to the door frame while devouring her lips. Lines have been crossed and the room was filled with unresolved sexual tension. Charles wanted her - naked and moaning in pleasure. She pulled his hair while they made out and each pull was like gasoline to the fire of his desire. He traced her side with his cheeky finger and then slipped his hand under her t-shirt only to trace the line of her bra and then swiftly cupping her breast. "So you're wearing bras now," he let slip out of his mouth, already fucking her in his thoughts. His comment sparked a distant memory of an evening long gone by now. She was shivering his touch and wanted more and more. "Yeah...but now you're not gonna have to touch yourself alone or secretely," she said, hoping he actually had done that in the past, trying to tease him once more, while grabbing the hem of his belt and pulling him even closer. It worked. He was hard as a rock. He pressed his cock against her and started kissing her neck. She wondered if he understood the cocktail of pleasure and arousal he was preparing for her and felt even a bit shameful to crumble so easily. He felt her cave into his embrace as soon as he touched her neck and made a mental note, so come back to this spot once he was inside her. He thought about her devilish finger making her way to his cock slowly, just painfully slowly. She was teasing him and while he was loving that, he couldn't wait a second longer. He grabbed her hand pushed right onto his erection, which cause her letting out a surprised gasp. "I'm gonna fuck you, Y/N. Say yes if you want me to," he whispered into her neck. Not much second guessing went into her reply. "Yes," she moaned out, causing shivers on his neck. "Really?" he said, unhooking her bra. She smiled. This was no shy unsure Charlie. This was a confident man with intension to make her feel good. "Yes..." With that, he pulled away to help her get her t-shirt off and get rid of the cursed bra. Finally, he could stare as much as he wanted to.

He fucked her like there was no tomorrow. For them there really wasn't a tomorrow, because technically, there wasn't suppose to be a tonight. It was to stay as a blank page, moans written in an invisible ink, for no one but them to read. Morning would bring trouble, reason would wake up and start ordering around. As long as the sun wasn't watching, they were safe, hidden in each other and wrapped by desire.

Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine all the damn time

part 4

--------------------------------------------------------- @linnmee @itsjustkhaos @rhythmstars @blueflorals

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #song fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #ferrari f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #best friends to lovers #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x y/n #taylor swift #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #dylan alibi #friends to lovers

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[morganski-19]

The One Where It All Started

This takes place about a year before the rest of the posts will be taking place. Just to set the stage before the real schnenanigans start.

“So I said that was a terrible idea, because there was barely any research done so it would be misleading to the readers, right,” Nancy continued her story about the piece she’s been working on at work.

“Yeah, that would make me pissed,” Robin added, following along.

Nancy nods in agreement as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Exactly. I would rather print nothing than something they made up. But of course, the boss doesn’t think so. I’m thinking of dropping the project, so my name isn’t attached to it, but then that just means I ‘didn’t have faith in the work’. No shit I don’t, it’s completely fake.”

“Fuck those guys,” Steve adds, partially listening as he’s grading his student’s assignments.

Jonathan and Argyle walk into the café, finding the group at their normal seats and joining them.

“My dudes,” Argyle bellows. “How’s it going?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Nancy groans.

Jonathan winces. “Those assholes at work again?”

“Yes,” Nancy exclaims. “I need to find another job but this is the best I could get after school.”

“Could be worse,” Robin adds.

“I know, I just hate working there.”

Steve stares at the paper in front of him with a confused expression. “What do you guys think of this one?”

He turns the paper around to reveal a hand turkey covered with red drops resembling blood. What would normally be the feathers are now plucked off and surrounding the turkey leaving the pink underneath. Or at least that’s what it looks like. It could just be pink feathers and a turkey standing on a pile of leaves. But that wouldn’t explain the X’s for eyes.

“Are you seriously grading hand turkeys right now?” Robin rolls her eyes. “And you think your job is hard.”

“Try to teach a bunch of first graders basic math after they’re all hyper from recess and then get back to me. And it’s not just hand turkeys. There’s also spelling tests somewhere in here.”

Jonathan takes the paper from Steve’s hand, showing it to Argyle better with a very concerned glare. “I think you might need to talk to this kid.”

“He drew a murdered turkey, dude. Kid’s got issues.”

Steve takes the picture back, assessing it more. “I mean, those could be leaves.”

Robin points to the picture. “And that’s not blood.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to the kid.” Steve turns it over and sees the name. “Wait, this is Bobby’s. His parents hunt wild turkeys. That’s normal.”

A man with long, brown curly hair approaches the group, wearing a leather jacket with a band tee and black jeans. “Sorry to interrupt but, Wheeler?” He turns toward Nancy, pointing softly at her.

“Oh my god, Eddie?” Nancy smiles standing up to give him a hug. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“Eh, it’s been better. But you, I saw the article you did last month. Best thing I ever read in the news.” Eddie sits down on the chair across from Nancy.

Steve is trying his hardest not to stare and keep grading his stack of papers, but it’s hard. Robin elbows him in the side and widens her eyes in a “Really?”. Steve shrugs in his defense, taking a sip of his mocha. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Aw, thank you. I worked hard on that. What are you up to now?”

“Kinda between jobs at the moment. I work as a freelance artist but I’m taking a break from that becoming a tattoo apprentice.”

“That is so cool, dude,” Argyle interrupts from across the table.

Nancy has a moment of realization. “Right. Eddie, these are my friends. Robin, Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle. Guys, this is my old friend from high school, Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.”

The group replies with varied greetings, Steve and Eddie holding eye contact a bit longer than the rest of the group does. Resulting with another jab in Steve’s ribs from Robin. He yells at her with his eyes for her to stop.

“So, do you live in the city now?” Nancy goes back to addressing just Eddie.

He scratches at his chin with a pained faced. “Kinda. Moved here to live with my ex a few months ago. And then he sort of cheated on me, so I’m trying to find somewhere else, but money’s kind of tight right now.”

“Ugh, that sucks,” Nancy winces. “I’m sorry.”

“Is what it is.”

Nancy turns to Robin, whispering something in her ear. Robin shrugs and whispers something back.

“You know, if you wanted to, no pressure or anything,” Nancy starts. “But, my old roommate just moved out and I’m looking for a new one. It’s a nice place my grandma rents to me so it’s rent controlled. I know we haven’t talked much since high school, but it’s yours if you want it.”

“Have to think about it, and see the place. But that might be nice.”

“And you’d live across from me and Steve,” Robin adds, earning her an elbow to the ribs.

Eddie smiles flirtatiously. “Well that does sweeten the pot.” He notices the hand turkey still laying on the table. “What the fuck is wrong with that hand turkey?”

“I already said I would talk to the kid,” Steve groans.

“Why is this is this kid going on turkey hunting trips anyway,” Jonathan asks, concerned.

Steve shrugs. “How would I know, not my kid.”

Argyle reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a joint, handing it to Steve. “For your troubles.”

“This group is great,” Eddie laughs to himself, already agreeing to Nancy’s offer in his head.

General information about the fic here

Tag list (just tagged everyone who seemed interested, let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417

#stranger things #stranger thigns fanfic #freinds au #steddie #ronance #jargyle #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #spicy six apartment schenanigans #morgan's friends au

[your-honor-im-zesty]

What do I deserve, really?

Will should've known better. He really should've.

When Nico had first mentioned the idea of a family dinner ("Persephone's just about dying to meet you, she'll turn me into a flower if you stay away any longer"), Will had been elated. It meant another significant step in their relationship; it meant they were becoming serious. Not to mention, he had always wanted to meet Hades. Call him weird, but he had a strange fascination with death. He was a medic, after all, and however much he studied and healed and learned, there were always surprises in store for him. Death was an infinite topic; Will would've gladly sat through a lyceum taught by Hades.

But now, as he sat at the dinner table in the Underworld king's palace, he wished he had just thrown his boyfriend under the bus and let him be turned into a flower.

It was just the four of them- Will, Nico, Hades, and Persephone. They each sat on one side of the long, rectangular wooden table, which would've been a nice table had there not been literal skulls hanging off the sides. Just his luck, he was seated all the way across from Nico.

He couldn't tell what was worse. Persephone's onslaught of rapid questions ("You're the camp medic, correct? The one for the past few years?" "Tell me, are children of Apollo allergic to lies? I've always wondered." "How did you and Nico meet?"), Hades's stony silence (the closest thing to conversation Will had made with him was a request to pass the salt, which he'd done with rather unnecessary force), or the amused glint in Nico's eyes as he watched the scene unfold. Will was very tempted to strangle him, except choking your boyfriend in front of said boyfriend's father was probably not the wisest move.

The only thing that kept Will remotely close to sane was the food. It may have been the Underworld, kingdom of the dead, but the food was spectacular. 5/5 stars. Hades truly didn't accept anything but the best.

He gulped. He hoped Hades would lower his standards for him; Will wasn't exactly the best, compared to other demigods. Like Percy Jackson, for one. But then again, Hades hated Percy with a vehement passion, so maybe that was all for the best.

But the dinner wasn't bad, per se. It was awkward, sure, and very much uncomfortable. But Will Solace was the master of uncomfortable. He was a veteran of 2 wars, had saved more campers than he would've ever dreamed of; he'd spent sleepless nights, working to aid injuries and prevent death. He could do uncomfortable.

At least, that was what he thought.

Hades signaled the skeleton waiter to take up their plates and prepare for the dessert course, then leaned towards Will. His eyes were dark, obsidian. Like Nico's, his mind thought unhelpfully.

"So...Will," Hades said his name slowly, like he was testing out the sound of it. It was probably just his nature, but Will got the strong impression that Hades had spent the appetizer and main dish courses analyzing him, sizing him up. Probably wondering why the hell Nico had even given him a second glance. "I understand you and my son have been...courting, for a while now."

Courting? Will bit his lip to hold back his laughter. It was such an old-fashioned term, yet Hades looked completely serious. "Yes, sir," he responded, trying to sound as amiable as possible. He schooled his features into an expression of utmost respect; across the table, Nico (the little shit) was smirking again. Will refused to make eye contact with him (first of all, Nico had absolutely NO business looking that good in his father's palace of all places).

Hades studied him, those dark eyes unnerving. It reminded him of how Nico first used to look at him- distrustfully, coldly. He involuntarily flinched.

The corner of Hades's mouth twitched at the movement. "I am sure you know by now that Nico has incredibly high standards."

"I do," agreed Nico- were they ganging up on him? A father-son duo? Gods, Will should've asked for Apollo to be invited; but then again, the sun god would probably rather be stripped of mortality again than step foot into the Underworld.

Will swallowed nervously and licked his lips; they were getting dry. Had he drank water today? He was supposed to stay hydrated; he of all people knew the dangers of dehydration. "Yes, sir," he said, almost hoarsely.

Hades leaned forward then, further this time. His eyes flashed. "Let me ask you something then..." There was something in his tone that incited a sliver of apprehension within Will's chest. Nico's face grew serious, like he, too could hear it.

"Do you believe you're worthy of my son?"

Nico stiffened up, his face flashing with unidentifiable emotions. Persephone's eyebrows shot up, and she gave her husband a look. Not surprised, but unimpressed, like she knew something along these lines would happen and disapproved.

Will felt a warm flush creep upon his face. He stared at Hades, stomach lurching unpleasantly. For some reason, his lips seemed to be sealed tight, and determined not to re-open.

"I..."

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

So this is part 1 of my angsty will + solangelo fic :))) i'll post part 2 prolly sometime this week lmao but until then enjoy this load of shit

edit: part 2 is up! check my blog :)

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson fandom #pjo fic #solangelo #solangelo fic #will solace #nico di angelo #angst?? #part 1 #will solace centric fic

[gotham-daydreams]

Honestly, if I was reader I would weaponize the fact they literally know next to nothing about me. Hear me out

Bruce and fam show up and are like: it's so irresponsible for you to just disappear and not tell anyone, did you drop out of school just to get away

Me, knowing they never paid attention anyways: no one wanted to talk that night so I left a note. And no I didn't drop out, I graduated with honors. I went to/am going to college for___ degree. I took my diplomas with me because it's MY accomplishment

Or

Bruce letting his high tech medical machine do a series of tests because he's lost it and wants to know every detail down to your white cell count: you've had a significant damage to your pelvis in recent months

Me : oh yeah, My husband is going through a phase

Bruce : you're married???

Me : was it my ring or extraordinarily good sex life that gave it away??

Like seriously, I'd not pull any punches when it comes to hurting them back for what they did to me. Such as mentioning lasting injuries or traumatic events that happened while they were pretending I didn't exist. If anything I'd bring it up just to hammer in the fact that I.don't.need.them. And let them all have mental breakdowns. It gives me joy. And the best part is, they really wouldn't know what's fact or fiction. Let them go hunting for a husband that doesn't exist. Send them on wild goose chases for anything and everything they don't know.

Again, I love all of these spite posts and y'all are a RIOT and I love y'all for that, oh my god.

Icing on the cake? Of course the reader has gotten hurt in the past. They've overworked each and every last atom in their bodies just to have an inch of a connect with the Batfam, but still got nothing for their efforts. Which may or may not be mentioned in part 3 when stuff starts tumbling down even more.

Honestly, why not just make shit like that worse? How are they going to know?

You broke your wrist? Say it was your arm.

An ankle? Say it was both your legs and you were maybe even bedridden for a while. Or just on crutches (which may or may not be canon).

Hell, with the whole husband thing — why not lowkey turn it into a whole ass drama for the hell of it? You've had pervious partners in the past, and honestly some of them were kind of shit but there was this one person who you're actually kind of chill with. Maybe you still have a drink with them every now and again. You're married but have already been through your first divorce and have maybe been thinking of having children, or maybe you already do! (Which, of course, they can be pets but how is the Batfam going to know that right away?)

Basically, go off. They honestly deserve it, and especially because after years they still don't know the smallest thing about the reader. Well- besides that they're into music, and even then that's only about half of them? I believe?

The only one that would see through your bs is Alfred but he isn't going to say anything. Not without being sassy himself and heavily sarcastic. Even if he'll only play along for so long, your the favorite so it's okay. Besides it wouldn't be the first mind games he's played.

It may take everyone a little longer, but you can guess why. Hell, maybe some lies they'll never even find out about, since some of the best lies are told with a little bit of truth to them.

Regardless, it all spunds very fun ♡♡

#talking daydreams #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #sibling reader #gn reader

[uhgood-girl]

why jikook?

i've been asking myself this a lot recently bc well, why them? why not tkook? or ynmin? hell, jihope even, they're underrated as hell honestly, have you seen that hot tub video? hobi was ready to unhinge his jaw to swallow jimin whole (and who (jk) could blame him.)

but jikook, in a not joking way, hits different. they always have. it's been years at this point that i've been deep in this rabbit hole (within the larger bts rabbit hole, my god, how deep does it go) but i don't recall making the conscious decision to fall in.

maybe a little background?

i'm a fake love army. actually, if we're getting technical, i'm an outro tear army bc it was in the comments of the freshly released fake love music video that i saw someone recommend outro tear if i enjoyed fake love and then it was over for me. extremely not fake love at first listen, who's voice is second on this track? i NEED to know. i'm a yoongi/rapline bias to this day. fake love still fucks though, don't get me wrong, it's a never skip for me.

for that first year and then some, i consumed backlogged content like it was my day job. i am a prone to hyper-fixations hermit, basically, who was going to stop me? my therapist? nah, she picks her battles.

i watched everything i could get my grubby little hands on like someone would be testing me on it later. (shoutout qdeoks, you were so real) i didn't open stan twitter for the first time till probably the end of 2018, really just in time to be slapped in the face full force with the shitshow that was a hate campaign against these boys i was deeply invested in by then, the likes of which i had never experienced in an online space up to that point. it was a truly, truly wild era, don't ever let anyone tell you differently.

all that to say, i've been here for a hot minute and i developed my own first impressions on bts and the members as individuals in a vacuum. no one had to point jikook out to me, they stuck out on their own.

potentially relevant disclaimer before we continue: i am really really queer. i grew up in the united states conservative deep south and had to change high schools my sophomore year bc i was outed and then violently ostracized for being in a relationship with my same sex best friend at the time. it is safe to say i have a lot of feelings about and experience even when it comes to having to be low key (understatement lol) about who you love. i am not here just to make my barbies kiss.

actually, on that note, jikook wouldnt even be my chosen barbies out of bts. if we're in true fantasy delulu hours here, i would want yoonjin to be real. god, that would be the stuff, they're so old married as it is. peak romance.

i think the first place jikook ever truly caught my attention were the memories dvds. jimin has always been a sweet, bby angel taking care of all his members but i remember thinking that he seemed to pay a little extra, special attention to jungkook. and of course, why not, jk's the maknae after all. all of them have always been doting on him and deservedly so. but in those briefly shown really serious, quiet moments, jimin was often first in line. a spot very easy for him to obtain tbh as jk never seemed to be very far from him anyway. maybe if you've never in real time lived the satellite jeon accusations (hi pandemic army, bless you, i hope you make it to 2025 when we have them all back without restrictions) you might find them easier to dismiss but it was so consistent back then in all of the content being released. and once noticed, i don't know how anyone ever un-notices it. but i was in deep before i even realized the water was boiling.

should i talk about why not tkook? or ynmin, for me? i'm just pulling those as examples bc i know they're the popular contenders here but all joking in the beginning of this post aside, none of the other members interpersonal relationships, in any configuration (sadly, RIP yoonjin romance), have ever struck me as anything other than puppy crush/deep friendship/family. and that's not bc i don't think over half of those men aren't queer in some form or fashion because WHEW, that is an entirely different post and we simply do not have the time to unpack rn but it's not for lack of looking.

i started in a vacuum, but i have by no means stayed there, i walked in all of those front doors and sat down and said "convince me." i've got the time and lack of life, i am ready to be won over. what have i missed?

to this day i still regularly try and check my own confirmation bias, i'm obviously looking for jikook at this stage but i'm still ready on my toes if any of the others want to get crazy. (yoonjin i am rooting for you, we're all rooting for you)

and i'm not here to really persuade or sway anyone one way or another either. there are a 1000 other blogs on this site that can probably offer you better explanations, specific clips, and detailed break downs of moments throughout the years and even then people are going to see what they want to see. i just wanted to write some of my own thoughts down finally.

though...i guess if i had to point to any one single piece of "evidence" it would definitely be tried and true gcf tokyo? but if watching that the first time didn't ring through you like a gunshot, i def don't think there's anything i could say beyond that.

honestly, i think so much of "why jikook" for me boils down to the pit in the bottom of my stomach that i used to get when i first began to notice them. when i got past the initial warm fuzzies inspired by the sincerity of their interactions, my immediate second emotion was concern.

i remember the first time i heard some of the other boys make an offhand joke about them being a couple and i got anxious, fast. i thought hide, hide better, please be safe. i began to pay extra attention to the other members in general too when jikook would do things and felt like i could sometimes see a similar anxiety to my own in their expressions. for a long time, i just worried about them and where i saw other people rejoice in their more obvious moments, i was slow to celebrate.

despite my initial hesitation, it's now been about 5 years since the first time they ever made me double take. they're a few years younger than me but i feel like we've been growing up together. (parasocial? idk her.) they're less conspicuous these days, and for lots of obvious reasons, but i feel like overall, their confidence in themselves and each other is quite high. i know that's probably a funny thing to say in light of this last week especially, but i stand by it. i've seen this song and dance before. i have managed my own expectations in the past, taken full steps back only to be beaten anew over the head so many times with enough "coincidences" i felt borderline foolish to try and deny anything. jikook are truly some sort of neuro-spicy pattern recognition drug, i swear.

and i've never really gotten to talk about any of this with anyone before! i'm shy irl, and shy online apparently bc i have just been lurking around the outer lines of this circle this whole time like some creepy creep but i've decided i'm over it. fuck it. growth.gif. idk that i have anything important or new to contribute to the conversation but my god, no one else seems to let that stop them so i might as well take my turn on the soapbox, no?

so 📢 JIKOOK REAL (?) jikook sus. jikook make bandaged queer little heart go boom boom.

#jikook #kookmin #hi hello welcome to the personal jikook ted talk literally no one asked for #in this essay i

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 7🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 7 "Stress Tested"

Timestamp: 00:25:07

Video Length: 4min. & 58sec.

The Salsa Jump (Pt. 1 | ‣Pt. 2)

Kristen: "But you passed, right?"

Kipperlilly: "Hm?"

Kristen: "You don't even have to take classes."

Kipperlilly: "Studying student government."

Kristen: "Oh, I see. 'Cause I thought that teacher found you so you don't have to take any classes."

Adaine: "Right."

KIPPERLILLY/BRENNAN'S EXPRESSION!!! 😭😭✋✋

THE AWKWARD SILENCE HERE! 😭✋

Gorgug & Fig: *eating chips with Kristen's salsa hat*

Brennan: "You see that"

Kristen: *eats chips from her salsa hat*

Brennan: "she..."

Kristen: *rubs the salsa chip all over her face* 😭✋

(Brennan's laugh! 😭✋ & Ally's laugh! 😭✋)

Brennan: "She looks at you and says,"

Kipperlilly: "It's nice to be able to focus. How are things going with your goddess?"

Kristen: *scoffs* "It's been a lot better. Did you hear? She passed."

The awesome caption team: (all laughing)

(LOU HIDING HIS FACE! + THE CONCERN ON ZAC'S FACE! 😭✋ I CAN'T! 😭✋)

Ally: "I actually meant that seriously."

Brennan: "Yeah."

Ally: "Yeah."

Kristen to Riz: "Is this going well?"

Riz: *shakes his head* "We're gonna head out."

Kristen: "We are gonna head out. I can't move too fast."

Riz: "Good contest."

Ally: "I'm trying to run, but I'm-"

Brennan: "As you walk away, it's like five seconds later, and you see that Kipperlilly now let's you get a little bit away so she can say,"

Kipperlilly: "Your goddess passed?" *echoing* "How can you cast spells?"

Brennan: "And the whole campus hears it."

Riz: "Passed the test."

Kristen: "Passed the test...to give me extra spells."

Ally: "And then I try to Spider-Man web." *laughs*

Murph: "Can I prestidigitation?"

The awesome caption team: (all laughing)

Emily: "I also prestidigitation."

Lou: "I'm gonna cast Pyrotechnics. And I'm just gonna shoot off a 💩 ton of fireworks."

Brennan: "I'm gonna say right now that all of you do whatever you need to do. I'm gonna say the difficulty of covering that is a 40. And you may add all of your checks together."

Murph: "You in a salsa hat."

Siobhan: "I'm gonna cast Nondetection on Kristen so nobody can tell that it's not coming from her."

Zac: "I cast Jump on..." *laughs*

Ally: *laughing* "On the salsa?"

Brennan: "Okay, Nondetection, Jump, you're casting Pyrotechnics."

Lou: "Pyrotechnics, just" *waves his hand in the air*

Emily: "I'm casting-"

Murph: "Prestidigitation."

Ally: "But do we have any Bardics going around that we can try to..."

Emily: "You don't want mine."

Ally: "Okay."

Emily: "I'm gonna cast Fear because it creates an image and I'm just gonna create an image of a huge nefarious spiderweb."

Ally: *spiderweb-shooter noise*

Brennan: "So what everyone sees is Kristen shoots spiderweb that also produces a elephant-sized spider that begins to run amuck on the campus as Kristen ejects from a Jump spell straight over the school into another field."

The awesome caption team: (all laughing)

Lou: "Through fireworks."

Brennan: "Through fireworks."

Lou: "Through fireworks."

Brennan: "Everyone starts screaming."

Ally: "Passed the test to gimme extra spells!"

The Bad Kids chanting: "Kristen! Kristen! Kristen! Kristen!"

Adaine: "Wow, I'm voting for her for sure."

Riz: "You've seen the shrimp jump, and now have you seen the salsa jump?"

Brennan: *laughing*

Adaine: "I'm so wet, it's burning my face."

Brennan: "Food trucks peel out from the ****ing giant spider."

Gorgug: "Get outta here, losers."

The awesome caption team: (all laughing)

Brennan: "And with that, what better not to engage in our very first downtime."

Gorgug: "Phew!" *wipes forehead*

Riz: *laughs*

Fabian: "We gotta get it together." *laughs*

Kristen: "Yeah, I'm so sorry."

Riz: "Kipperlilly knows that your other god died but didn't know that this one just died."

Kristen: "*** **** it!"

Fig: "Well, I actually liked that you played it honest, though. 'Cause she's telling us lies and you just told the truth."

Kristen: "That's true, but-"

Fig: "Well, until you didn't."

Kristen: "Until I lied big time. But you guys really covered it up. Okay?"

Fabian: "Passed the test."

Gorgug: "Hey, do we need to lock it in?"

Fabian: "Yeah, we lock it in."

Kristen: *takes off her hat* "You guys, I'm really sorry."

Riz: "Let's all never talk to Kipperlilly ever again."

Fabian: "Throw this hat away."

Ally: "Can I do an insight check on when I confronted her about the teacher finding her and her not finding the teacher?"

Brennan: "Yeah. Yeah."

Ally: "Did she give me any- Like, did I ice through one little barrier?"

Brennan: "Give me an insight check."

Ally: "Okay."

Ally gets a 14 on the insight check.

Brennan: "Once again, she didn't say anything in response to it, which feels like a confirmation of it to you, but you didn't see it rattle her. You didn't see anything... Like, in other words, on a 14 you can't get any insight into it. But fundamentally, I think maybe Kristen would feel on some level that if you were to say, 'Hey, that was a ******** technicality,' she'd almost be more proud. Do you know what I mean? Like, literally if someone were like, 'Hey, the spirit of that rule is you're supposed to find the Rogue teacher, not have the Rogue teacher find you. She would be like, 'A success against the spirit of the rule is actually more enticing to me.'"

Ally: "She thinks she gamed it and that's actually more impressive."

Brennan: "Yes, precisely."

Ally: "Okay, got it. *** ******."

Siobhan: "I wonder if the Rogue teacher found her to say, 'Hey, grinding is not the way to do this and you actually have to study and you're in trouble.'"

Ally: "Or she like put herself in danger and that's why that person died. The Rogue teacher had to step in and-"

Siobhan: "Oh, 💩."

Ally: "-like try to save someone-"

Siobhan: "Yeah, either way, she sucks."

Ally: "Yeah."

#dimension 20 #dimension20 #blog #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #stress tested #fantasy high stress tested #fantasy high junior year episode 7 #fhjy ep 7 #fantasy high scene #fantasy high junior year scene #dimension20 scene #queue #the bad kids #bad kids #intrepid heroes #the intrepid heroes #brennan lee mulligan #kipperlilly copperkettle #the salsa jump #salsa jump #Kristen #kristen applebees #ally beardsley

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part I)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ only, do not interact if you are underage. Heavy petting, fingering, nothing much else this chapter. Reader is 18+ and has been since before Eddie was interested. Reader is a virgin who has bad previous sexual experiences (not assault). Mentions of bullying and anxiety around this. Under 21s drinking alcohol. Eddie makes a little joke about getting reader high and taking advantage. Expect coming of age vibes the whole way through and as a result there is a fair amount of exposition this chapter. I’m trying to capture the particular way girls hurt each other. Non canon-compliant; the gate closed forever in 1985.

Word count | ~6,950

A/N | Some of you hate girly-girl reader, some of you hate not-like-other-girls reader. I am here to unite you against a common enemy; not-like-other-girly-girls reader. I really think I can bridge the gap with this one. I joke, but my point is Eddie Munson is capable of loving literally every person ever put on this planet, who dress all sorts of ways and are interested in all sorts of things. My y/n loves Rilke.

Reposting one more time and tagging @darlingpumpkin for her lovely comment on the post that didn’t show up that made me cry. 

Taglist

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"Please!" May cries again, clasping her hands together like she's begging. "I just know bringing something tonight will get me my chance with Liam. And the freak...freaks me out!”

"But I don’t get why that means I should be the one that meets him.”

"You know, I thought you kind of liked Eddie.”

Heather’s smile is innocent, her head tilting like she doesn’t know exactly how much you like Eddie. Like you hadn’t sat and told her every detail of your gooey, warm crush on him that one time she’d snuck a bottle of pink gin to your house.

"Wait, you like the freak?" May asks, her face a picture of confusion. You twist your hands in your skirt when she makes a noise of disgust. "Oh my god!" She says your name incredulously. "That is so gross!"

Your mouth opens, then closes with a bite to your lip. You want to defend yourself, defend Eddie, but find yourself toeing the ground with your shoe instead.

"If I'd known you might enjoy a little rendezvous with Eddie Munson in the woods, I'd have begged a little less," May says, voice all amusement until she catches your hurt look and sighs. "Look, please just get the weed from him for me? You don’t even have to talk to him, but he really does scare me. Heather’s meeting Patrick, otherwise I would totally ask her."

Another version of you, one that knew how to get into conflict and come out on top, would tell her that's not true. Would list every time, at least every time you remember, that you'd done something like this for your friends. Risking trouble, going out of your way.

You take the $20 she has ready and tuck it into your purse.

"Hey," May says, tone all innocent mocking. "Maybe you should try flirting with Munson. You might be able to get me a discount."

Your leg starts shaking the second you’ve sat yourself down on the picnic table in the woods, placing your bag on the bench at your feet. Smoothing your skirt down, you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm the harsh pounding under your décolletage before he gets here.

For the first couple years of High School, you didn’t really think about Eddie Munson. You thought he was cute, on the odd occasion you’d catch sight of him looking smiley or laughing, but you had a million other things to worry about before any feelings of attraction to a boy so far outside your sphere. Math tests and making enough money babysitting to buy that particular skirt. Keeping up with the love life of each and every cheerleader that so graciously allows you to sit with them, despite your lack of green and white uniform.

But then, he didn’t leave High School with the others his age, and you started hearing his voice, his laugh, in class each day. You saw the cycle of him desperately writing notes, eyes intent on the board, before his attention would drop, neat bullet points bordered with doodles until he’d flinch, realise what he was doing, and start writing again despite what he’d missed.

Once you were aware of him as more than a cuteish boy who was best not to think about on account of the rumours (failing school, dealing drugs, parents in prison), a couple things planted the seed.

With your arms above your head, body swaying and rolling, you found Eddie’s eyes. In that comfortable space, your brain just nicely cottony from what you’d drank, still one shot away from searching for May and convincing her to hold your hand for the rest of the night just so she knows you love her, you were happy to move this way in front of Eddie.

Eddie’s gaze was shifting from the boy buying from him, the money he was being handed, to you, your hips, and back again. For a minute, it didn’t matter who he was, his eyes on you had the space between your legs warming pleasantly. You caught his stare with yours, thought about reaching out and asking him to come put his hands on you and feel you move. Some other boy touched you instead, and by the time you’d politely guided him away from your body, Eddie was gone. You just caught the mass of his hair weaving between warm bodies towards the door.

The details were fuzzy when you woke up the following morning, but you felt the lack of his presence the next time you found yourself dancing, wishing you were being watched by dark eyes.

Weeks later, COCKTEASE, written in black ink across your locker, the first Monday after Andy’s brutal, ranting break up speech. Your eyes were bubbled with tears as you ruined the sleeve of your pretty white cardigan trying to rub it away with just wool and spit. It smudged and spread. The letters remained clear and every whisper behind you was a repetition of this taunt.  

“Hey, no need for that.” Hands decorated with metal rings interrupted yours, replacing your sleeve with a paper towel that smells like vodka, the ugly word gone in seconds. You sniffled, looking up at community menace Eddie Munson, whose eyes are shiny and brown. “All gone.” He’d given you a soft little smile, leaning in enough that tingles ran up your neck at the feeling of his warm breath on your face. “If that ever happens again, just come find me, okay? I keep a stash.” He handed you another piece of towel for your wet eyes and straightened, rolling his shoulders back. Eddie waited for a little nod of assent before he left you standing there with something small but alive, green and growing, sprouting in your chest.

At the end of last year, when classes were winding down, you had a presentation for English. You hate public speaking. More than anything in the world, you hate public speaking. To talk, even about your favourite book, something you knew inside and out, was a nightmare. You’d regretted your choice as soon as you were in front of the class. You could have lied, picked anything. Old Yeller, The Great Gatsby, 1984, something distant from you, something that wouldn’t matter, but instead you went and picked-

“Sonnets to Orpheus is, um-” You swallowed, fingers pulling at the back of your skirt. “Is a book of poems by Rainer Maria Rilke.” Blank faces stared back at you. Your face was hot all over, down to your décolletage. “He was an Austrian poet-”

“Did she say the guy’s name is Maria?”

Your head snapped to the faceless question, the scoff, finding a couple of confused boys. The question was an unwelcome shock to your word for word rehearsed script. The interruption left you rudderless and trying to grab pieces of information from the unsettled ocean of your mind.

“It’s all generally sort of about how, well, things like poetry influence life. The life of a poet. Um-” You tucked a foot behind your ankle, dragging it up and down your calf. Betty Melville blows a bubble with pink gum, the pop of it making you flinch. “Like Orpheus! He was a poet- the best poet, or a musician. And in the myth - he’s part of a Greek myth about him and his wife - in the myth, he travels to the underworld to save Euridice, who’s his wife, from Hades.”

“Oh, fucking cool,”

You blinked. Eddie Munson was sitting forward in his seat, staring at you intently. His eyes were wide with interest. Catching your gaze, he gave you an encouraging, prompting smile.

“Eddie, please keep that kind of language to yourself.”

Eddie apologised to Miss O’Donnell with a charming grin just bordering on sardonic, then, looking at you, said, “it is cool though.”

“Yeah, yes, it’s really cool. Actually, the whole book is poems that are sort of intended to be lessons to people like Orpheus, about dealing with the things that happen in life.” Your eyes were fixed on his face, on the encouraging smile you could hardly believe was there. “My favourite, in the whole book, is Want the Change, which is about learning to appreciate things you might not necessarily have wanted to happen, and how they can actually lead to good things, if you let them. I can, I can read it, maybe? It’s only short.”

Your teacher said something, but it was Eddie’s excited nod that made you open the book you held in trembling hands and find the page most worn at the edges.

“Want the change,” you started. “Be inspired by the flame, where everything shines as it disappears.”

You spent the rest of your minutes looking only between the words you loved and Eddie’s kind eyes, the soft earth of your heart blooming with colour.

“You lost, sweetheart?” Your head snaps up from your bare knees to find Eddie walking towards you, in the process of shrugging off his jacket.

"I'm May's friend," you say quietly, followed by your name, unsure if he’d even know it. "She couldn't come because…well, because-"

“My guess is she's scared of meeting the freak in the woods?” Your expression must be answer, enough, because he rolls his eyes. Eddie places the black lunchbox on the table by your hip, eyes focused on where his thumb plays with the latch. “So she sent you. You're not scared of me?"

Of a boy with big eyes and a stash of paper towels to rub mean words off lockers? You give him a little, friendly smile and shake your head.

Eddie grins at that, eyes crinkling around the sides with it. He clasps his hands together in front of him then lets go, drumming a little on the table. For a second you’re just looking at each other, listening to the rhythmic beat of his knuckles against wood until he clears his throat. "Okay. Down to business."

"May told you what she wanted?"

"In the five seconds she was willing to stand near me? Sure did.” He flips open the box in a smooth motion. "I normally charge $20 for the half ounce."

You open your mouth to tell him that's what she gave you, cut off by Eddie continuing.

"If she'd given me the chance, I would have told her that sending her pretty friend out to collect would get her a 25% discount. But, uh,” he holds one of the plastic bags out to you, shrugging, brown eyes shining. "I guess it's just her lucky day."

Your mouth must be filled with cotton, or else your brain, because you don’t say anything. You just stare at him long enough that he starts to tilt his head, looking like he regrets his last words. "You okay?"

“I'm sorry.” You shake your head, smoothing your palms down over your calves awkwardly. "That’s very sweet of you, Eddie,” you finally answer, sounding almost out of breath when you take the bag from him. “But it's still her money. You might as well take the twenty."

"I won’t tell, if you keep the five."

Your eyes widen, scandalised even as you zip up your backpack to hide the weed inside. "Oh, I would never do that."

Eddie tucks the offered $20 into his wallet. “Thought not, but I mean, I never thought I'd ever see you out here, either.” Eddie says, sitting up on the table next to you. Not close enough to touch, to feel the softness of his t-shirt or his skin, but enough that you get a hint of the warmth he’s radiating.

“Oh. Why not?”

“Uhhh.” He’s not subtle, eyes drifting up your body from the frilly edges of your socks to the bow of the scrunchie that’s currently holding your hair back from your face. “I guess I was worried you might be like your friend.”

“May’s a good person, Eddie,” you say. “But, well, she has to fit in with the cheerleaders, you know? That’s why she says mean things sometimes.”

There’s a pause while Eddie blinks. Then, eyebrows together, he asks, “she ever mean to you?”

You’re about to shake your head instinctively, but you end up staring at him. It wouldn’t be like telling Heather, you realis, or even your Mom who had known May since she was in pigtails. Eddie would listen, you think. Eddie would listen and Eddie would understand. You look down, considering your next words, realising that you’re about to tell Eddie Munson something that you've never voiced to anyone else.

But your name comes in a yell from behind you. Speak of the devil springs to mind, followed by guilt and the question of when you started thinking about someone you love this way.

May stands there with Andy, of all people, at the edge of the trees. "Come on!" May eyes Eddie nervously, glaring when he waves at her with waggling, ringed fingers.

“You’re that scared of me that you had to bring some muscle with you?”

“She was worried for her friend after she was out here with you so long," Andy answers, crossing his arms. He looks at you. "We both were."

Defend him, you think. But then May is shaking her hand at you again, telling you to move. Your name is a rough order in her mouth.

Grabbing your bag and sliding off the table in a rush, you pause for a second to look him in the eye. "Thanks, Eddie."

"Nice doing business with you, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" May repeats, incredulous, grabbing your arm and pulling you close so Andy can’t hear her hiss. "Please tell me you were not actually flirting with the freak."

You look at Eddie over your shoulder, catching his intent gaze before May presses on your back, forcing you to look away.

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That night, your fingers flex under the wet stroke of polish. "He was actually really sweet."

“Stop moving!” Heather yells, tsking at the quick drying yellow smudge on your finger. She wipes it away with a piece of cotton and acetone before she grants you a smile. “It’s so funny, how people can come across one way, and be so different when you really talk to them.”

Your face is warm, your voice is a whisper. "He called me pretty."

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing,” May says from across the room. “Not only do you have a weird little crush on Eddie Munson, you’re now actually thinking about, what, dating him?”

Your smile fades a little. “He really isn’t like what people say.”

“Except he literally is exactly like what people say?” She answers, her voice cutting. “He started a club called Hellfire. He has all those boys wearing that shirt like some kind of cult!” She rolls her eyes, going back to applying her lipstick. “My Mom said that game they play is all to do with Satanist stuff, too.”

Heather's fingers hover in the air over the cross around her neck. She only drops her hand at the sight of your deflated expression, looking over her shoulder. "Your Mom doesn't know everything, May.”

“Well, she didn’t make it up herself! There’s studies on what it does to people, Heather! Real studies!”

You feel wilted by the end, unsure of how to explain yourself. You’re silent, continuing to blow on your nails even once they’re dry just for something to do. You watch after May’s form when she leaves to get changed before looking at Heather again. “I just liked talking to him, I guess.”

Heather laughs, giving your arm a soft, comforting touch. “When are you going to see him again?” At your unsure shrug, she rolls her eyes. “You have to talk to him soon!”

“I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

Heather's face breaks into a sly little smile. “Oh, Eddie!” She cries, voice comically breathy, clasping her hands together by her cheek. “You’re the man I have been waiting for my whole life! Take me no-OW!”

You bash her with a cushion with as much force as you’re willing to put behind hitting Heather. She falls back, giggling away while you clench your hands around the fabric of the pillow, preparing to strike again if she keeps going. “Okay, so that’s a no,” she says, considering. “Maybe you could ask to buy something from him yourself."

“But I’ve never done anything like that,”

“That’s not an issue. Just ask him to teach you,” she answers confidently, moving to do her mascara at her vanity. “Guys like that.”

“Guys like teaching girls how to smoke?”

She smiles at you through the mirror. “Guys like teaching girls anything.”

On Monday, May barely wants to talk at all, still miserable from Friday night. You'd spent the weekend at hers, visited periodically by Heather, stroking her hair and plying her with ice cream and fresh baked cookies. At lunch, she leans her head on your shoulder while she plays with cafeteria pasta.

“Listen, it’s his loss,” you remind her, having moved past soft hushing and placation to accusations about Liam's mental fortitude. “You looked amazing on Friday. He must be blind or insane.”

“What kind of guy takes drugs you bought and leaves with them, anyway?” Courtney says from the other end of the table, having heard the story through the grapevine, apparently. It strikes the wrong nerve, leading to May burying her face in her hands as the tears start to flow again. You and Heather spring into action, comforting her as the three of you walk to the bathroom.

Together, you chorus the things she needs to hear right now.

“I didn’t want to tell you this, but he is totally not on your level.”

“100 percent! Did you see that girl he was with? Clearly he likes them easy.”

“Easy and ugly,” May agrees, sniffling. “So it was never going to work.”

“Exactly,” you nod, smiling to see her rubbing her drying eyes. She wraps her arms around you then, letting you give her a comforting squeeze.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “You guys are the best friends in the world.” She sighs deeply, fanning her face to stop any more tears. “God, look at me. My make up is ruined.”

“We have plenty of time to fix it.”

“I’ll go get your bag, okay?” You say, heart warm at her soft thank you.

As you’re leaving the cafeteria, May’s bag slung over your shoulder, you catch sight of Eddie, his head thrown back in laughter while he walks with his friend. His nose is scrunched and you have butterflies.

“Hi, Eddie,”

Eddie looks happy to see you, if surprised at the greeting. He gives a quick wave to Gareth. “Tell everyone I’ll be right there.”

Coming towards you, Eddie stops close enough that you find yourself tilting your head back to keep eye contact. His hair moves around his face when he leans forward, lips pink and wet from the little lick he gives them before speaking.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you say again, having to restrain a nervous laugh, clenching your toes in your shoes. “Um,” you glance down the empty hall before you look back up at him again. “Can I buy from you? I have my own money this time.”

“Uh, sure,” Eddie answers, blinking slow, eyebrows together. “Wasn’t expecting that, though. You got a taste for it from what I sold your friend?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“Okay. I have a Hellfire thing just now,” he says, pointing down the hall in the direction Gareth went with his thumb. “But I can meet you at the end of the day.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I have to go to the bathroom, anyway,” you say, before catching yourself. “Not like, go to the bathroom, but I have to meet May. Not that we- I don’t hang out in the bathroom.” Eddie’s smile is unwavering. “She’s in there because there’s a boy she likes and I’m bringing her this.” You lift the shoulder her bag hangs from, going back over your words. “The boy she likes is a dick.”

“You don't ever have to explain yourself to me, sweetheart. Meet you at the same place?” You’re still going over everything you said in your head, but you nod anyway. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.”

“Okay. Bye, Eddie.”

His eyes jump quickly down your body and back up to your face before he turns to walk confidently down the hall, leaving you warm all over.

You compose yourself before returning to the bathroom where Heather and a newly barefaced May are waiting for you. “Will you do my eyeshadow?” She asks sweetly. “Blue, like you did Chrissy’s last week?”

“What took you?” Heather asks once you have the palette in one hand, brushing shades of blue along May’s eyelids with the other.

You glance at her, wondering if May’s in the right mood to hear the truth. "Andy stopped me in the hall to ask about Ms Fredrickson’s homework.”

“Andy’s totally still into you,” May says, eyelids flickering. “He was so excited to charge in and save you from the freak last week. Wanted to show off to you.”

You pause your work on her eyes, stomach twisting uncomfortably. “I’m sure that’s not true,”

“It is.” She opens her eyes, fixing you with an amused look. “The second I said you were out there with Munson, it was like a whirlwind. He was just desperate to save such a sweet girl." Her mocking pout gives way to a smirk when she closes her eyes again. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him about your little creep crush.”

You stare at her for a second. Then, gently touching her chin to keep her face steady, you blend the colour over her lids.

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

Eddie’s waiting for you this time, sitting up on the table again with his lunchbox by his side. His jacket is gone, leaving him in a t-shirt that you just know is warm from his skin and the Summer heat. The shirt is graphic, with the name of a band you don’t know, a picture of a demon standing over a mountain, and what looks like a priest tied in chains, splashing about in water. How Eddie manages to look so friendly in such a shirt defies science. The way he’s sitting, the way he’s smiling, you want to climb up into his lap for a cuddle.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you say, desperately close to a giggle you know would be the most manic, girly sound ever made if you didn’t bite down on the inside of your lip.

That’s where Eddie’s eyes are, just for a second, before he’s looking at the box to his side. “You, uh, want a half ounce?”

You hum the affirmative, taking your bag off to dig through and find your little beaded purse. He spies the $20 in your hand and scoffs.

“I said fifteen for you, sweetheart,”

You’re leaving dents in the gum behind your lip with your teeth. “It’s not my fault if you don’t carry change.”

His lips purse in a smile at the tease, his dimples making an appearance just to send you into a tizzy, you’re sure. Eddie’s tucking the money away when he asks, “you got rolling papers and everything?”

“Oh, uh.” Yes, just say yes. “No, can I get those, too?”

Eddie blinks, expression shifting to confusion. “You didn’t know you needed those?”

Special papers? No you did not. “I did. But I, I forgot.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder like he’s looking for someone then he tilts his head at you. “Hey, uh, is something happening here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm? Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe one of your friends sent you out here again.” Your mind jumps to Heather, wondering if he might work out you had lied, just to talk to him. He reads something into your expression, because suddenly there’s a hurt in Eddie’s eyes you weren’t expecting; a panic. “They get a kick out of the freak giving you a discount for batting your eyelashes, is that it?”

“What? Of course not.” You’re shaking your head desperately, but Eddie’s already muttering angrily.

“Jesus, Munson. Learn your fucking lesson.” He starts gathering his things, glancing up for a second looking like he wants to say something to you. Eddie shakes his head. “Fuck this, man.”

He’s going to leave. He’s going to leave, angry at you for something you’re still trying to work out. You want to tell him to stay, let you explain everything from start to finish, but the words catch in your throat.

There’s alarms in your heart, ringing out a warning that you need to do something. When the thought strikes that Eddie’s sitting at just the right height for you to run up and kiss him, that’s the only action that makes any sense.

Your body moves for you. Eddie’s watching you rush towards him, and then he’s gone. He’s hidden by your eyelids as you press your lips to his, hands moving to hold his shoulders like you could physically stop him from walking away from you.

His lips are pillowy soft in your chaste kiss.

You look at his pretty, expressive face. He’s closed his eyes, too, even though it only lasted a second, and then he’s blinking at you and waiting. Your fingers twist shyly into his shirt the way you normally find yourself doing with your own clothes. His soft hair tickles your wrists.

“Eddie,” you whisper. Your throat hurts. Your body’s trying to stop you from getting the words out, from risking embarrassment. “Eddie, I-” You swallow, bringing a foot up behind your calf and running the toe of your shoe up and down the skin of your leg.

“Tell me,” he says. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

There’s tears pricking your eyes. You have to stare at the dark curls on his forehead to get it out. “I have a crush on you.”

“Yeah? You have a crush on me?” You nod. Eddie squeezes your waist, laughing. “Well, shit, if I don’t have quite the crush on you, sweetheart.”

You finally look into his eyes, mouth open. “No.”

“Fuck yeah,” he nods in earnest. Then he looks sheepish, closing one eye tight. “I kinda thought that you knew that, for a second there. Or that your friends had worked it out.”

The tone of his last sentence goes right over your fuzzy head. “I didn’t know.”

“For a while, now,” he admits, cheeks pink. “Couldn’t believe my luck when you were sitting out here last week, and then when you came up to me today.” Eddie grins. “So, the plan was to keep buying weed you weren’t gonna use?”

“I was gonna use it,”

“Without papers? Gonna tell me you hide a sparkly pink bong under your bed or something?”

“No, was gonna ask you to teach me.”

Eddie’s pleased grin makes you feel weak in the knees, warms the space between your legs in the way that looking at him often does. “Is that so?” Your little nod has his hands digging more into your waist, pulling your body right between his open legs. “You were gonna come to me one day, give me that sweet smile, and ask me, please, Eddie, will you teach me to smoke? Mm?”

It’s a strange kind of embarrassment. Not like standing in front of the class, or realising with a snap you’ve said the wrong thing at lunch. You like this, feeling caught out by Eddie in this way. It’s making you feel giddy, excitement building wet and hot.

Eddie’s hands stroke your waist, soothing even as he’s winding you up. “Tell me.”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“And then what? Come up, here, baby.” Eddie’s hands hook around the back of your thighs, skin finally on yours as he helps you sit up on the table over him, the wood digging into the front of your knees. “What was gonna happen? After I’d taught you to smoke?”

His hands are running up and down your legs, fingers just teasing the skin still hidden under your skirt before he’s drifting away back towards your knees.

“Was it something like this?” Eddie presses kisses to your cheek and down your jaw, breathing heavy through his nose when you tilt your head for him. The thumb of his right hand ventures further, brushing against the frilled edge of your cotton panties. “Hm? Thought I might touch you, after?”

The questions have your mind batting back and forth from whatever it is he’s asking to how much you want him to just take.

“Thought I’d take advantage of a pretty girl like you, sweetheart? Get you high in the back of my van and open these legs up when I had you all dizzy and giggling?”

He snaps the elastic of your panties on your leg and you bear down on him, trying to trap his hand where you want it but he’s back to stroking the soft skin of your inner thigh. You close your eyes to hold in the tears that are building up again.

“Tell me,”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, Eddie! Just wanted-” You sniffle a little, seeing him pull his lips from your neck to catch a glimpse of you starting to cry. “Just wanted to talk to you, wanted you to like me.”

“Oh, baby.” He kisses you soft for a second, then Eddie’s tongue is wet against your lips and you let him in without hesitation. He groans at the taste of you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you towards him and up a little. Your mouth is wet when he pulls away, and he whispers into your cheek. “Want you to pull those panties to the side for me.”

You whimper, moving a hand from his shoulder to reach under your skirt and hook a finger in the cotton, exposing your heated clit to the air. Eddie looks down between you, the hand that was on your thigh grasping the front of your skirt to pull it up and tuck it under your locked arm. “Jesus Christ,” he says, teeth gritted. “Jesus H. Christ!”

He sweeps the rough pad of his thumb over your swollen button and your body jolts. Eddie’s laugh rings in your ears as he keeps you steady over him with the arm on your waist. “Oh, she’s a little sensitive. Got it.” It doesn’t seem like he got it when he presses two fingers against your bud and rubs in tight circles, your hips shaking in an effort to both escape and get closer to the feeling. “So good, so good of you to open yourself up to me like this. How about a little more, yeah? Let Eddie see the rest of her?”

You mewl, bringing three fingers down to the elastic to pull more to the side. Immediately, Eddie slides his fingers down and around your leaking hole, dragging slick back up to ease his work against your throbbing clit. “Eddie!” 

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s better.”

The hand that isn’t displaying your wet cunt for him wraps around the back of his neck, pulling his face to yours so you can kiss him again, let him breathe in the way you’re moaning for him. Eddie hums, moving the tips of his fingers back again, just his thumb remaining to give your button quick rubs. His middle finger circles your entrance and you clench down, breaking the kiss to gasp and whine.

His finger presses in to the first joint and then he’s looking at you with wide eyes. “Sweetheart,” he says, gently. “Has anybody ever touched you like this?”

You make a soft whining sound, shaking your head, because they haven’t, not like this.

“Do you-” His tongue sweeps over his lips nervously. “Do you want me to stop, or keep going?”

“Keep going,” you cry. “Keep going, Eddie, please. Eddie, Eddie-”

“Sh, sh, okay, okay.” The arm around your waist gives you a sweet squeeze like a hug. “Need you to relax a little, otherwise it won’t feel so good inside, mm?”

Relax? How can you relax when his thumb is still torturing the top of your sex? Eddie presses a soft kiss to your cheek where tears are running, then another under your eyes. “Just relax,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I’ll make it good. I promise.”

You sigh, feeling yourself melt into him, your face falling into his shoulder. The thick finger slides further in, filling up the space that wanted filled and leaving you clenching gently with excitement. “Fuuuck,” Eddie says, teeth gritted. “Nobody has ever treated this pussy the way she needs, huh? Oh, sweet girl, it’s a fucking travesty.”

You make a high noise of agreement at the back of your throat and Eddie breathes a laugh. He pulls his finger from you slowly, thumb still playing constantly with your bud, then presses back inside for you to feel the sweet drag against your walls. “Eddie,” your voice sounds like a mumble with your mouth pressed to his soft t-shirt. Eddie shakes his shoulder a little like he wants your attention, as if he isn’t the only thing you’re thinking about, could try to think about.

“Your pussy feels amazing inside,” he says. “Gonna need to stretch you good before we can even think about you taking my dick up there.”

You feel yourself squeezing tight around his finger, your hips rolling into him. Eddie’s talking, but you’re too far gone now and everything sounds like it’s underwater. The tone of his voice is clear, gentle but teasing, as are the slick sounds of his hand moving between your legs. With a jolt and a long cry into his shoulder, you’re coming around his fingers, pleasure travelling up and down your body in waves.

You’ve only ever cum by yourself, and never with anything inside. Something about clasping down on him adds to your orgasm, to the satisfaction you’re feeling as it crests and fades.

Your head lolls, rubbing your temple against Eddie’s soft hair. He gives your clit one last cheeky rub just to make your body jump.

You feel his elated laugh before you hear it. He pulls his fingers from your pussy and you hear Eddie groan, followed by the distinctive popping sound of something pulling from pursed lips. “Tastes like heaven. Jesus, sweetheart, you are something else.” He gives you another squeeze, helping your body settle on top of him, moving your hand that remained exposing yourself and tucking your panties back over your slit with a soft little pat.

“Look at me?”

You have to force your heavy head up to do as he says, and Eddie coos softly. “You’re so sweet, so good for me. You did so, so well, you hear me?”

Your heart flutters, and you tilt your chin for a kiss which Eddie gives without a thought. The taste of your own slick in your mouth is heady, drawing you slowly back to reality as the sights and sounds surrounding you return to focus.

A car door slams in the distance and you’re jumping, suddenly tense. You’re sitting in a boy’s lap, outdoors, where anybody could come by. You let him touch you, let him make you cry out into the fresh air.

Eddie feels the afterglow dimming rapidly, and allows you to climb off him, watching the nerves creep into your body language. “You okay?”

“Yes, I-” Your toes curl, feeling embarrassed that you don’t know how to deal with this, either what you’re supposed to say after being touched you like that, or how to tell him that you loved every second and it has your mind whirring because you’ve never been able to do that with somebody else before.

“Let me take you home, yeah?” Eddie says, sensing your thoughts moving a mile a minute, that there’s nothing he can do right now to get in and fix it for you like he’s realising he wants to.

He picks up his bag and the box he carries with him, then takes yours from the ground where you’d dropped it before running up to kiss him. Eddie debates holding your hand, but you take his on your own, giving him a gentle, thankful smile because, even with the nerves driving you silent, through the haze you see him being kind with you, even now.

He settles you into his van with your backpack at your feet, makes sure you’re belted up before closing the door for you and climbing up into the driver’s side. It smells like a thousand Eddie’s; smoke, weed, cheap aftershave, and boy. You’d giggle at that if you weren’t running over every detail of your last relationship, trying to work out exactly what must have happened to keep you from letting yourself be touched like that before.

Seven months. You dated Andy for seven months last year and you didn’t let him do anything close to what Eddie did to you on a picnic table in the forest. Not for lack of trying on your part, and certainly not Andy’s.

You had liked Andy, up to a point. He took you on nice dates, and would compliment your outfits. He was a good kisser, and the way he looked at you when you were lying in his bed made you feel pretty. But the second his hands drifted anywhere more salacious than over your bra, your whole body would shut down. The one time you’d gritted your teeth and let him pull your panties off, his fingers inside you had hurt from how tense you were and he’d given up within thirty seconds. The time he’d suggested you touch him with your hands, or even get down on your knees, the bubbling tears in your eyes as you’d told him, if you want, had him groaning in frustration and slapping your hand away from his boxers. Every time you slept over at Andy’s house, you’d end up bent over with him rubbing himself against your ass through layers of cotton elastane.

After, you’d feel uncomfortable in your skin, wanting him to hold you. Generally, exhausted from the mental game he had to play with you to let him grind against you, he would fall back to his bed and pass out about twenty seconds after he came. The uneasy feeling would last into the next day, sometimes longer.

You search for that feeling now, and find just the remnants of flushed pleasure, the memory of Eddie’s breath on your temple and his voice calling you sweet and good. There’s a little guilt, but only because of how you ended it, realising only now that you hadn’t done anything at all for him. That is one of the things you do know about boys, they come first in these scenarios.

“Have I ruined everything?” You ask when he’s pulled up to your house, ready to make a quick getaway if need be.

“What?” His eyes are wide. “Jesus, no,” Eddie grabs your hand, settling the shake there. “I was gonna ask you if I had. I shouldn’t’ve taken it that far, I just, I could hardly- can hardly believe this is happening. You, sitting in my lap, letting me touch you? That’s a dream I’ve had a hundred times, sweetheart.” He squeezes your palm. “I really think about you a lot, you know?”

You do know.

“Can I take you out Friday?” He ventures, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “No funny business, I promise.”

Your thighs press together, the rough pad of his thumb against your skin reminding you how nice those calluses felt playing between your legs. “I think,” you look from your joined hands to him. “I think a little funny business would be okay.”

Eddie’s clearly pleased by that, his shoulders relaxing even as he holds his remaining hand out dramatically and turns his head to the side. “Nope! No funny business at all. You’ll see, they’ll be calling me Eddie the Chivalrous by Saturday.” His face gets softly serious. “I’m gonna do it right with you, sweetheart.”

Butterflies erupt, and you just wish he’d kiss you then. You give him one last look, hoping he will, a little sad when he just smiles. You squeeze his hand before letting go. “Bye, Eddie.”

You jump out of his van and close the door gently. You’re in the middle of wondering if either of your parents are home, what they might have seen through the window, when you hear the van opening. Turning, you find Eddie jogging your way, his hair a dark cloud flying around his face. “I know I just said no funny business,” he breathes. “But I gotta get one more kiss. Just to keep me going, you know. Then I can be Eddie the Chivalrous for at least the rest of the week.”

“Kisses- kisses can be chivalrous.”

“Oh, thank God.” Eddie kisses you through your giggle, hands covering your cheeks. You whine a little at the warmth of his tongue and he separates from you. “Okay, that’s enough, Munson.” Another sweet press, then one more lasting barely a second. “Okay, I’m going now. Friday?”

You nod rapidly.

“Okay,” he says again, letting you go. You watch him jog back to his van and climb in, looking like his head is just as fuzzy as yours. Eddie Munson gives you one last grin before pulling away, his van disappearing down your suburban street.

Next Chapter

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #my stuff #tmyg

[d-romanov]

float around and ghost my friends

[title- phoebe bridgers. natasha romanoff x teen!reader, minimal platonic peter x reader]

2.5k words

You didn’t have a normal childhood, but you mama encourages you to have a normal highschool experience and lets you go to a party. It doesn’t quite go how she wanted, or how you expected.

trigger warnings: underage drinking + drinking to cope, suicidal ideation?, depression, it’s sad ngl but it’s got a hopeful ending (probably)

Living your life after a childhood of pain and misery is hard, it is so, so hard. You wonder if the man across the street is just a stranger or someone there to take you back, if the light flickering meant someone had found you, if the loud noise down the hall was a body against a wall. God, if you started thinking too hard about it you wouldn’t stop.

Thank god high school would only make it worse!

Growing up as a Hydra lab rat they still had to keep you occupied, lest you go catatonic and ruin their tests. You saw plenty of shows and movies about high school, about how important the dance next saturday was, when everyone’s classes were, the like. You understood, to an extent, that parties were a big deal. Parents went out of town, kids got shitfaced, snuck back into bed past “curfew.” fun times.

It’s been a little over a year since you were found by the Avangers, and just a few months since Natasha Romanoff finalized the adoption paperwork for you. Even if you couldn’t call her mom as much as you wanted to you were happy, truly content for the first time in your life. You had friends, family, and a mother who wanted nothing more than for you to enjoy your new life.

Which is why, when peter had invited you to a party being put on by someone in his class, your mom urged you to go.

—

You haven’t been sleeping much in the last few weeks. Insomnia and trauma-induced nightmares were taking their toll on you, but you could handle a bit of sleep deprivation. Besides, you weren’t about to concern Natasha more, she’s had enough on her plate lately.

No, no matter how long you stayed awake shaking, shivering, not breathing waiting for a sound in the hallway, you wouldn’t bother Natasha. Though, that didn’t stop you from being a bit more clingy during the day before calling it a night.

“It’s an opportunity for you to have fun outside the tower, детка, you should go.” You sat cross-legged on Natasha’s bed, watching as she put away laundry. It was calming. “I’m only a call away if you and Peter wanna ditch, but I want you to enjoy yourself.”

Her encouragement throws you off. “You know what happens at those parties though, don’t you?” You shift so you’re laying down against the pillows, “Shouldn’t you be making me stay home?”

Natasha laughs. “Hon, highschool parties aren’t nearly as crazy as movies make them out to be, and i know you. It’s not like you’re going to get wasted or make out with any boys.” You pull a face and Natasha laughs again, and you laugh with her.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” She presses a kiss to your forehead and you smile up at her.

“I’ll go.”

—

You’re already regretting it, and you’ve only been in the house for 20 minutes. Peter don’t ditch you per se, but you haven’t seen him since you settled on the couch. The music pulses through the floor and you can feel the bass in your teeth. You’re pressed in at the far end of the couch hugging the armrest, clutching a soda can in one hand and hovering over Natasha’s contact in you phone with the other. A bark of laughter from the kitchen throws you out of your thoughts and you notice someone pouring out shots. somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder when the last time you had a drink was, to which your brain unhelpfully answers “too long.”

Aside from anesthesia, the best pain relief you had in your old life was alcohol. You understood that it wasn’t healthy, even back then you knew that, but it kept your thoughts from racing and helped you sleep at night.

A small crowd was formed around the kitchen counter, and you watch as two boys get locked into a fierce competition of Cup Pong.

You watch one of them, a lean, blonde boy from the soccer team, fading fast. only two of his cups have been emptied, he’s clearly a lightweight and already wobbling by his third shot. The other boy is one you recognize from your history class. he’s loud, obnoxious, and goading on the other boy who’s finally thrown the ping pong ball properly and landed it in a cup.

The loud one sinks in another two balls, and you see the blond visibly swallow. you don’t know what comes over you because in the next moment, you down his two shots in one go.

“Woah-hoh-hoh! looks like someone’s up to the challenge!” His face breaks into a shit eating grin, “Too bad you picked a battle with the undefeated champ here.” you hear a few whistles in the growing crowd and smirk, You can feel the buzz hitting your head and it feels good, you feel good for the first time in days.

“Undefeated, huh? Well, this is gonna be really embarrassing for you then.” You’re cocky, but you don’t care, you just wanna get drunk.

He quickly bounces another ball, landing in your forward cup, the second misses. Your two land and it’s a battle keeping your face straight. Your opponent is intimidated, but he hides it behind a grin and his height, but he’s too obvious. You know he’ll hit his limit far sooner than you’ll hit yours, so you tease him a bit.

To throw him off, you miss your next two throws, and his second lands. as soon as the cup is empty you begin to sway. you’re in no drunken state, there’s barely a buzz at this point, but he doesn’t know that. As far as he knows, you’re just as much of a lightweight as the blond before you.

He’s hiding his own swaying body by leaning forward on the counter, but you can see in his eyes he’s getting drunk, and thanks to the alcohol of choice being vodka, it won’t be much longer before he’s out. You were hoping for a bit more fun, but his head start in the is game threw that off a bit. You strike fast. Two balls, two cups, one throw, it’s impressive to the crowd but for you it’s child’s play. He down the cups, slower than before, and you can see sweat forming on his forehead.

He misses his next throw and you can’t stop yourself from being a bit disappointed. then again, you only have one cup left versus his, you huff a laugh.

“I mean, it’s a little unfair of me to be beating you. You had a head start in the game, why don’t we level it out?”

The crowd is rowdy and you see his face twist into a grimace. He’s getting agitated while you’re loosening up, happily putting on a show for everyone around you.

You pour yourself two more shots and take the one after the other. You revel in the burn, you feel lighter, higher, ready to put this stupid kid in his place.

—

You win that game, you win two more games, and everything becomes a blur. You think your phone buzzes a few times through the night but you ignore it in favor of pouring yourself another drink and laughing your ass off. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt normal, and even if you don’t know anyone’s names they’re funny enough, and you can forget about the past for the night.

You’re not noticeable in school, you hide yourself in the back of the class and only talk to peter and his friends. You’re allowed to leave class whenever you need to thanks to a plan you’re mom had set up with the school, so it’s not like you usually stick around enough to talk to anyone. You’re just some new kid lost in the crowd there, but now, here, people are talking to your face instead of whispering behind your back and avoiding eye contact. you finally feel free.

You get up and unsteadily return to the kitchen for another shitty bear. You look over your shoulder and throw your hands out. “Peter!!” you shout, ending in a giggle when you see his face, he’s looking at you funny. “hiiiii!!”

“Are you drunk??” Oh never mind, he sounds mad.

“Nooo?” You giggle again, he doesn’t believe you but you don’t really care.

Peter rubs his hand down his face and starts to guide you to the door.

“Where’re we going i was having funnnn,” You whine, pushing against his insistence you leave.

“(Y/n) i already called natasha, now drink this and sit tight.” He’s frustrated and hands you a water bottle, you pout and plop onto the grass, lazily sipping at the bottle.

You’re not sure how much later it happens, but Natasha’s car pulls up on the curb. She steps out and she looks pissed, if you had any energy left you’d probably be scared. “Hi мама,” even drunk and half asleep you still know you sound like a pathetic mess, and right now you really just want to catch up on all the sleep you’ve missed.

She kneels down next to you on the grass and moves your sweaty hair from your forehead, you notice her face soften. “Hi малышка, let’s get you home.”

“Are you mad at me?” You blurt out. Your voice is small, and you don’t mean to sound so weak but the alcohol in your system makes you feel vulnerable. “I don’ want you to be mad at me i was jus’ so tired.”

“No hun, i’m not mad. We’ll talk in the morning when you’ve sobered up, now up you get.”

If you weren’t so out of it you would’ve seen the heartbreak cross her face.

She hoists you up with your arm over her shoulder, and you’re grateful for it because without her you’d have fallen face first into the dirt.

You hear her ask Peter to open the door, and as soon as you’re in the car you’re out like a light.

—

Anyone could tell from a mile away that Natasha loved you. Since the day you were found she’d always cared and wanted the best for you. You were the child she’d always wanted, and she’d do anything for you. And anyone could tell that seeing her kid so small, so sad, was breaking her heart.

Peter’s phone call had been confusing, something about you getting too competitive to think straight and then too drunk to stand. She’d shown up expecting a slightly drunk teenager, not you. Not you sitting in the grass, on the curb, nursing a water bottle and looking so utterly defeated. She didn’t know what to do, she just wanted to take all your pain away.

Getting you home was the easy part. Apparently, getting you out of the party had also sucked all of your energy, and you were cooperative getting in the car, hell you were asleep as soon as the door shut. Natasha dropped Peter off at home before returning to the tower, after getting some context to the situation of course. Now it was time to get you to bed, and figure out her next steps.

—

“Mmmn?” You can barely open your eyes, everything just feels so heavy and faraway. Behind squinted eyes you recognize that it’s Natasha pulling you from the car.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”

Your short nap didn’t help you much. “‘M tired,” You croak out, cringing at the taste of your dry mouth.

“I know you are bub,” She pull one of your arms over her shoulders and leads you through the tower’s garage to the elevator. “That’s why we’re gonna get you cleaned up in into bed.”

Your response isn’t more than an affirmative grunt, but you can get the words past your throat.

Eventually, after a blur of motion and lights and almost getting sick on the way up, you’re in your room. You don’t want to be in here.

Natasha guides you to your bed, keeping you steady as you sit down. Before she can pull away your hands grip her shoulders like a vice.

You don’t even realize you’re crying. “Don’- Мама don’t leave. Please don’t leave.” You don’t want to be alone. You just want to sleep but you can’t sleep because when you sleep your mind attacks and attacks and attacks and you can’t keep dealing with this forever you’re so tired.

“Hey hey, no i’m not going anywhere детка. Im not leaving, but i need you to breathe, please.” You can’t stop yourself from closing your eyes. You hate the way she’s looking at you, she looks so sad and you’re the one doing this. God look at you, look how pathetic you’ve become.

“I ju- I just wanted everything to stop. i wanted to be normal in sorry. i’m sorry мама i’m sorry i’m just tired i’m sorry.” The words get caught in your throat and choked out in a sob. You try to pull back, hide in you pillows and shut out everything, but natasha’s returned grip is solid and fierce, yet gentle, and kind, and she pulls you into her chest as you fight every cry that bubbles up.

“Let it out малышка, don’t fight it. It’s okay, i’ve got you. I’ve got you, love.” Her hold on you grows tighter and you can almost feel your chest open just from her words. No matter how much you were taught and built against it from birth, Natasha was your lifeline.

Minutes or hours later, you’re cries turn to whimper and the bone-deep exhaustion makes itself known again. Your arms feel so heavy, you can barely keep your puffy eyes open and you just want to sleep for the next month.

“Hey,” Natasha says it so softly she’s worried you’ll miss it, but she doesn’t want to startle you. “Let’s get you changed. I’m just gonna grab you some pajamas, okay?”

You must’ve nodded, because natasha moves and you faintly hear your dresser draws move. You’re half asleep as natasha helps you change into comfier clothes, you’re eyes aren’t even open once she’s tucked you and herself into bed and holds your head to her chest.

“I love you so, so much малышка. Got to sleep, okay? I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Your answer is a whisper “I love you, мама.”

You’re out like a light, you limbs heavy and mind blissfully quiet. Natasha hardly sleeps, thinking only about you and the conversation you need to have.

——

part 2!!!

#mama nat #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha x teen reader #peter parker x platonic reader #my writing

[libraford]

The good news is that he found a different job and next week is his last week and I only have to work with him 2 more times and only one of those times will I be alone.

Tech talk and rant below.

But in my opinion, we should have fired him earlier on because two weeks into the season he was unclear of what any of the equipment apart from the camera actually did.

The camera takes the picture.

The lights light the subject.

The computer matches the subject to the picture.

The transmitter connects the camera to the lights wirelessly, so that when you take the picture the lights flash automatically.

The sync cord connects the camera to the computer so that the image is displayed on the screen.

The skyport connects the lights to the computer so that they automatically adjust.

Its just all the electronics going through a circular systems check to make sure they are firing properly and matching it up against our white balance test. I know it sounds complicated, but its literally just a circle.

I understand that this can be complicated for someone who is used to 'click button, get picture.' But having the same problems over and over again because he doesn't understand the proper procedure and doesn't look at the checklist that he swears he never received even though I gave him my laminated copy and having to fix all of the problems that are literally because he didn't respect me enough to listen when I explained it to him cuts into the time that could be spent getting ready.

Now we are a month and a half in and on Tuesday he asked me what the skyport does.

If your skyport fails, you have to adjust your lights manually.

Therefore... skyport makes the computer talk to your lights.

And every time something fails, he says 'this would be so much easier without computers' and I'm like. Fine. Okay? Try to match 900 student names to photos without a computerized indexing system. Try getting the light to be consistent without a startup exposure test.

No sense of troubleshooting, which isn't very difficult. If something isn't right, restart the computer and try again. If you get a repeat of the problem, call Freddie from IT. But usually, a reboot fixes most problems.

But then he started breaking the rules, and in a very intentional way. Like at first it was 'oh I didn't know I wasn't supposed to show them the photo' even though we went over this in training. Then it was 'well, I'm not supposed to show you the photo but if you come back here while I'm adjusting my lights I can't stop you.'

At first it was 'hey, Jay, remember what Freddie said about the no-touch policy during training? I know you want to make the kids like you, but its very unprofessional to ask them for a high five, especially since these schools are very strict about their own no-touch policies and also did we not just go through a wholeass pandemic?'

And now students are complaining about him physically adjusting their posture with his hands.

Like... I don't mind bending the rules a little. But before you can bend the rules, you have to understand why the rules are there, so that when they are bent there is a good reason. The rule about showing photos is there to make workflow consistent. The no touch rule is for the safety of ourselves and the students.

But breaking the rules constantly just out of disrespect means that I can't bend them myself. I have to be a hardass. I hate being a hardass. But if I'm not a hardass and someone tells me that he's violating our no-touch policy, the company gets in deep trouble.

Not that he'll ever... ever follow my advice on the subject because as previously mentioned- he respects no one here. He has 15 years experience as a photographer and is too good for this place. Why would he listen to someone under 40 with three years experience dealing with schools?

His pictures aren't even very good. They're average.

Just two more jobs with him and then he's off to do something else and gods I hope he's better at that than he is a school photographer.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

People have always been afraid of Eddie on a very superficial level. He got good at talking his way out of situations, out of fights that he no doubt would have lost. But talking only takes you so far. At one point or another, someone's not going to care about whatever it is that he has to say, and they're gonna start swinging.

That's where the scary dog privileges come in.

He hasn't dealt with Jason Carver or any of the other asshole jocks in months. Turns out, not even the Hawkins Boy's Basketball Team wants to test their luck against Billy Hargrove.

Billy, with his mean, obnoxious car and bad attitude, has warded bullies away from Eddie like garlic to vampires.

And all Eddie has to do is... hang around the guy.

It's not so bad. They're neighbors in the trailer park, so anytime one of them doesn't wanna skulk around the house, they bum around the other's place. Sometimes they lie down in the jungle gym in the center of the park and smoke some of Eddie's better supply until it's dark out.

Eddie was surprised at first when he started being invited to parties. Not just any parties, the good ones. The ones that had better alcohol and less people. The ones that required an actual invitation.

Sure, he was always Billy's plus one, but still. He was hanging around the "it" crowd and it was strange, to say the least.

To be privy to the hot gossip that stayed in the upper circles of the high school hierarchy.

Not that he really gave a shit about that.

He was in it for the free booze and the shenanigans — the times that Tommy H. would dare Steve to hop his neighbor's fence and steal garden gnomes out of their yard, or when Billy would fall out of a tree that he drunkenly climbed because he was laughing too hard. The fun stuff.

Eddie eventually started realizing that he really enjoyed Billy's company. Like, really enjoyed it. He'd get excited when he'd hear a tap on his window in the dead of night, knowing that he was being beckoned out for a night of fun.

Sometimes it just stayed the two of them. Eddie would buy a six pack and they'd go somewhere private — maybe park out by the quarry and sit in the back of his van while they listened to metal and talked and drank. And then... well, it took a while to get the blond to open up, but he started to speak of things outside of Tommy Hagan's parties and babes from California.

He talked of his mom. Of his little sister, who Eddie had seen him get into screaming matches with fairly often, and how much he tried to be a better person for her. For them both.

It was unspeakably soft.

Eddie, at some point, lost touch with the part of himself that feared Billy. How could he not? He looks at the guy and all he can think about is how softly he speaks when he's comfortable. How easy and laidback he is during the late hours of the night when he fights sleep just to keep the conversation going.

So, yeah, now Eddie gets met with weird looks in the hallways at school when he invades Billy's personal space. Jumps on his back and shoves him around playfully, even ropes an arm around his neck when they walk and talk together.

Completely openly unafraid.

Tommy tried to test the waters one afternoon during lunch. Reached an arm around Billy’s shoulders and patted his chest while he was making some point that didn't matter, and Billy twisted his wrist. Made him whimper and pull away with a confused look on his face.

And, god, was Eddie absolutely thrilled when he found out that he was the only person allowed that close. The only person who could do it without being snapped at.

It eventually stopped being enigmatic and became more of an expectation. If you saw Billy out and about, Eddie wasn't far behind.

"Hey, sorry I’m late," Eddie says.

He slings his arms around Billy's neck from behind. Presses up against him and tilts their heads together.

"Hey." Billy takes a drag from the cigarette perched between his fingers. "Where've you been? People have been asking me where my boyfriend is."

Eddie snickers at that.

"Sorry. Got held up helping Wayne around the house."

"'S okay. You haven't missed much."

He glances around the basement, spies Steve and Tommy bent over the billiard table with intense focus in their eyes, and Chrissy chatting with Heather and a few other ladies in the corner. It's practically all cheerleaders and jocks milling around. More like a work function and less like a high school party.

Eddie prefers the smaller hangouts with just the main group, but he's not complaining. Free beer and free food are some of his favorite things. Even if he’s not getting to help Steve and Tommy steal Principal Higgins’ car or something right now.

"God, Munson, not even here for five minutes and you're already spooning up to Hargrove," Jason says and earns a few laughs. "Why don't you just get it over with and rent a room out at the Motel 6?"

Billy tenses up, but doesn't move away. So Eddie does all he can think to do.

Makes a scene.

He smirks and slides his hands down to Billy's waist to grab at his hips. Hooks his chin over his shoulder and grinds against him, humming delightedly when Jason's face turns white.

"Jealous, Carver? If you want us gone so bad, you could go ahead and pay for our room," he lilts. Turns inwards towards Billy's neck and noses fondly at his skin. "Hell, you could probably join us. Whatcha say, baby, you wanna have a little fun with the basketball captain?”

He coos the last part into Billy's ear sensually. Smooths one of his hands up the expanse of his abdomen, fingers spread, and grinds against his back again.

Everyone's looking. Jason has gone from ghost white to burning red, and Eddie's not sure if he's flustered or if he's angry.

The best part of it all is that Billy doesn't pull away.

"No offense, but I'd rather fuck a tree stump," Billy says.

His tone is flat. Unamused. Like he's above this whole conversation entirely. Eddie juts his bottom lip out in a pout.

"Sorry, Jason. Baby says no."

The room erupts in chuckles, and Jason clears his throat. Turns his attention back to his drink.

Billy takes another puff from his cigarette, tilting his head back against Eddie's shoulder as the smoke fills his lungs. Still unfazed by Eddie's closeness.

"You want a drink, baby?" Billy teases.

He turns to Eddie. Exhales the smoke like fire into his face. The brunet just grins.

"We getting drunk tonight?"

"Mhm."

"Cool."

Part 2 is here

#mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #tommy hagan #steve harrington #jason carver #ficlet #my writing #silly metalhead duo #Billy let’s him be clingy bc he’s touch starved and Eddie is fantastic at cuddling #jason is afraid of The Gays

[imagining-supernatural]

Tomorrow

Summary: Just angst and depression, bruh. Remember, I let you guys vote for either this fic or the fluffy one and... well...

Platonic!Reader & Dean & Sam

Word Count: 1583

TW: Hospitals, ed, cancer, avoidance

-----

“That was the hospital,” Sam said once he hung up. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Dean with tired eyes. “Y/N’s there again.”

It hurt, but it wasn’t a surprise. “What happened?”

“She collapsed. They’re running tests now to see why.”

Y/N had been getting worse for months now. She hid it, but after it got to a certain point, to the point where the hospital got involved, she couldn’t hide it any longer. Dean grabbed his jacket and keys. “Let’s go.”

The ride was silent and familiar. It was the third time in as many months. The first time was just to pick her up. Y/N had gone to get a sleeping pill prescription, and the doctors wouldn’t let her get behind the wheel, saying that she would be a danger in her current state. The second time, she’d been so sick that her roommate insisted she go. Sam and Dean had been called because they were still on file from the first time.

And now she collapsed.

If only she would tell them what was going on with her.

*****

“They shouldn’t have called you.” I hated seeing Dean and Sam here. They shouldn’t have to take care of me. I was an adult. I could do this on my own.

Well, theoretically.

The Winchesters shouldn’t have to worry themselves about me. Sure, we grew up together, but that doesn’t mean they need to watch my destruction.

“They said you collapsed,” Dean said, pulling over a chair beside the hospital bed. God, I hated hospital beds. I hated everything about the hospital.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. I use to hate hospitals. Now though, I found a strange sort of comfort.

“I had them remove you as my emergency contacts last time. They shouldn’t have called.”

“Well, they did. Why’d you collapse?”

Why does anything collapse? Governments, buildings, organs… too much pressure.

At my lack of an answer, Sam sighed and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re worried about you, Y/N.”

“They shouldn’t have called you,” was all I said. I’m an adult. I don’t need people looking after me. I should be able to do that myself. They could worry about their own problems.

“Why not?”

So far, my favorite part about living on my own was the independence. I could do whatever I liked. Whatever I wished. I just wish people would stop worrying about me because of it. I was on my own, so I should be on my own. I hadn’t talked to either Dean or Sam since the last time I was here. That was a whole month without any Y/N problems hanging off their shoulders. Now the hospital ruined that streak by calling them.

“I took you off my contact list. It’s unprofessional, really. And probably against HIPAA.”

“Why did you take us off your list?” Dean clarified Sam’s question with a sigh. He knew that I’d understood the first time. So he should also know that I wasn’t going to answer this time.

“They said they’re keeping me here overnight. You guys should go back to whatever you were doing. I’ll be fine.”

They shared a look and Sam stood up. “I’ll go find a nurse.”

He shut the door behind him. It was just me and Dean now.

“He’s going to get answers, Y/N. You might has well just tell me why you collapsed.”

Dean was raised right. Sam too. I suppose I was also raised right, but the lessons just didn’t stick for me like it did for them. The three of us. The fearsome threesome. A force to be reckoned with back in high school. Back when life was simpler.

“Have you seen the news? All those hurricanes and earthquakes? Man, I would hate to be there.”

He knew I wasn’t going to give him a real answer, so he just sighed heavily, pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes, and slid down the chair until he was comfortable enough. He was going to have to go to the chiropractor if he fell asleep like that.

“Dean, go home. Get some sleep in your bed. You have a game tomorrow that you need to be ready for.”

“Surprised you even know about that,” he mumbled, not moving.

The school sends out weekly emails about all of the events happening on campus I still get them even though I dropped out a month ago. Of course I know about the football games.

I’m not very good at being a real person lately. There’s just too much happening. Too many strings to keep track of. A to-do list that keeps getting longer and longer. More failures that keep piling up in the corner of my closet. I can’t do it all, so some things had to go. Dean and Sam just couldn’t see how much more free they were without me.

I guess they would figure that out soon enough.

“I forgot to eat,” I finally say out loud. It’s not completely the truth. I knew that I had to eat, but I just… didn’t.

Dean peeked at me from under the bill of his hat. “What?”

“That’s why I collapsed. They’re going to give me whatever I need then send me home. That’s it, okay? Nothing to worry about. You guys can go home now.” I closed my eyes, knowing that Dean was going to blow this completely out of proportion. If I had to hear it, I didn’t want to see it too.

“How do you forget to eat?”

It’s a lot of work. You gotta figure out what you want to eat, then see if you have everything to make it, then if you don’t you have to go to the store and spend money and time and be around people. And if your roommate is home, then you run the risk of having to be in the kitchen with her too and small talk is just something that I can’t do. Then, after all that hullabaloo, there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t just puke the food up in a few minutes.

It’s just easier to… not.

“Y/N, c’mon, what the hell?”

This would have been so much better if the hospital hadn’t called them. Dean was all about eating right. He cared about his body. It got him his athletic scholarships. It was his future. He was going to be in the NFL. He had to worry about that shit. And Sam? His future was all about being a personal trainer. It was his job to figure out the right way to eat and exercise and all that crap.

I was the brains. Well, I used to be. I used to think I was.

Funny how fast things change.

“Go home, Dean. Take Sam with you. The hospital’s got my back now. You have a game tomorrow.” I settle further into the bed.

“When was the last time you ate?”

The worst part of hospital beds was getting comfortable in them. It was impossible on a good day, but with wire and tubes sticking out of you? It was better to just resign yourself to a very uncomfortable night.

“Y/N.”

“And it’s not just the hurricanes and earthquakes. There was a giant tsunami too. It’s like the earth is trying to tell us that we’re not welcome anymore. Crazy.”

“I don’t care about that right now. Y/N, when did you last eat?”

I was so tired. And all this probably wouldn’t matter in a few weeks anyway. Dean had a game tomorrow. “If you don’t leave, I’m gonna call security.”

His mouth dropped open. I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, so I stared straight ahead at the door instead.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on with you?”

The door opened and Sam returned with a nurse and a doctor. It was never good when the doctor came back in. Especially with a nurse. I addressed them, rather than my friends. “Can you get them out of here, please? I don’t want them here.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s a good idea given—”

“Get them out of here!” I yelled suddenly, finding some hidden reservoir of energy to protect my friends from the ugliness that the doctor was about to tell me.

Dean and Sam protested, but they were too nice to fight against the nurse as she pushed them out the door. As soon as they were gone, I slumped back against the pillow.

“It spread, didn’t it?” I asked weakly.

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “The tumor in your brain that we found a month ago is growing faster than we thought, and the cancer has spread to your spinal cord.”

It didn’t take ten seasons of Grey’s Anatomy for me to know what that meant. “How long do I have?”

“It’s hard to say, but…” the doctor flipped through a few pages on my chart. It was just a stalling technique. It couldn’t be easy to tell a twenty-two-year-old girl that she was going to die soon. “I would say somewhere between three weeks and four months.”

“I can go get your friends, if you’d like. You don’t have to go through this alone,” the nurse offered.

I just shook my head. A single tear trailed down my cheek, but other than that I was able to keep all of my emotions buried deep. “No. They need to go. Dean has a game tomorrow.”

*****

SPN Tags: @missthang2734 @hugwinchester @iamnotsaneatall @angelicshinigami @youtubehelpsmesurvive @sgarrett49 @mogaruke @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @sandlee44 @goldenolaf25 @smoothdogsgirl @ocholove @valisiofdauntless @emoryhemsworth @carryonmyswansong @percussiongirl2017 @x-waywardaf-x @babynovak05 @kleinkariertebetrachter @akshi8278 @calaofnoldor @mylovelydame21 @sucker-09 @idksupernatural @miraclesoflove @i-should-prob-be-asleep @all-will-be-well-love @blueaura @anthoniastark @buckys-estrella

#dean x reader #sam x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #angst #tw: cancer #tw: hospital #tw: ed #I wrote this years ago when I was going through shit #And now that I've gone through worse shit #it turns out that I react the exact same way #but more aggressive lmao #aggressive isolation