#Not Allowed

[hellfire--cult]

HAILEEEEEEEEEY

Im

I MISSED THEM SO MUCH AND I JUST CANT IM SO HAPPY AND GIDDY AND I NEED TO REREAD THEM AGAIN CAUSE AAAAAAAA

Im so happy this was my goodnight read I loved this and how you write it and the metaphor of the garden and them talking about kids and it was the greatest mix of fluff and hot and snodnakdnwkdkodna

AAAAAAA

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"HALLOWEEN PARTIES"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of possible future pregnancy, lots of suggestive conversation and making out. not edited. upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 9.9k+ → a/n: @take-everything-you-can plagued me with thoughts of what our idiots would get up to on halloween, and i just couldn't help myself. it definitely spiraled out of control though. my bad. ALSO, QUICK DISCLAIMER: please if you get a snake don't do what reader and eddie did. snakes a homebodies. we are just going to pretend it's okay in this context for the name of fiction, alright? obligatory snake owner ramble over. let's GO.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

The thumping of the bass was audible before you’d even exited the elevator fully. 

Any other day of the year, you’d assume your group of friends would be earning an instant noise complaint for the volume of the music coming from behind Steve and Robin’s apartment front door. But it wasn’t just any other day – it was Halloween, and somewhere amongst the rhythm of what surely had to be Steve blasting Abba, you could make out fellow neighbors playing music just as loudly. 

If anything, the overly quiet apartments were more concerning than the noisy ones. 

“Do you think Lestat is going to do okay with the music?” Eddie suddenly frets, one hand reaching to tug on what little fabric there was of his costume. It almost made you smile, a reminder of what exactly your usually ‘scary’ boyfriend was donning. 

Britney Spears, circa 2001. One of her most iconic VMA performances. 

He’d decided it the moment you two had come home several months ago with the most important accessory that was draped around his neck – a juvenile ball python named Lestat, who looked surprisingly content as he hung onto Eddie’s shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” you hum, looking over at Eddie, a little bit concerned now that he’d brought it up, “Maybe it’s a bad idea-”

“I’m texting Nance to turn the music down.” 

“What if it freaks him out?” 

“It’ll be fine.” 

“What if he gets stressed and bites you, Eddie?” 

To any onlooker, the sight of you might have been a bit funny. Furrowed brows, arms crossed, sticky blood spread out across your stomach and sternum. 

The theme tonight for the two of you had been iconic performances. Eddie insisted, and part of you knew he was just afraid to dress up so extravagantly all alone when it came to this small get-together, but you hadn’t hesitated to pull together your own version of Lady Gaga’s iconic VMA performance from 2009. If you two were going to commit to a theme this year, you were committing. 

Eddie balances his phone in one hand, typing with a single thumb. Impressive, given his history of ardently avoiding owning a smart phone. His other hand trails up to his collarbone, sneaking a careful finger below Lestat’s head, holding him up and pouting his lip a little, “This little guy? Biting me? He would never.” 

The sight was cute. Obnoxiously, overly, endearingly cute. 

“He’s still a snake,” you try to argue, stopping right outside of apartment 34C. The music was more clear now as it switched from whatever Abba tune had been playing to Maneater by Nelly Furtado, “If he gets scared enough, he might.” 

“I’d hardly call him a snake,” Eddie snorts, shoving his phone back into his pocket, smiling as he tilts his chin to awkwardly stare at the snake now carefully slithering over his knuckles, “Dude misses the mice on his first strike every time we feed him. And if there was ever a time he was going to bite me, it would have been when I was taking that moss out of his mouth as he was eating.”

That earns a huff of a laugh from you as well. The image of Eddie on Monday night, absolutely losing his mind as he’d noticed that Lestat had gotten his mouse entangled in some of the moss decorating his enclosure, not even hesitating to open the tank once more and throw his hand in right along with the tongs to prevent your new ‘son’ from ingesting it, crosses your mind. It hadn’t mattered how much you reassured him that it was probably normal in the wild, that Lestat’s body could certainly handle it. Eddie had been insistent and blinded by what could only be described by paternal instinct. 

If you’d asked yourself last Halloween if that had been where you see your life heading in a year’s time, you would have rolled your eyes. 

“You do realize how dumb that was of you, right?” you insist, remembering your fear and the way your breath had caught in the moment. It was funny now, but you’d never gripped onto Eddie’s shoulder tighter than when he’d recklessly done so. You loved the snake, you really did, but you’d realized in that moment you might still love Eddie just a little bit more. 

The conversation is cut short as it’s clear that Nancy had received Eddie’s text, the music behind the door quieting a bit along with a change of song. 

Your jaw nearly drops, “You did not make Nancy do that.” 

The opening notes of I’m a Slave 4 U were impossible to miss.

“I did.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Are you gonna insult me the entire night, or let me make my iconic entrance?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer, Eddie carefully passing by you, Lestat’s head bouncing a little as it passes a bit closer to your face than you would have been comfortable with a few months ago. 

The snake, funnily enough, had even been your idea to begin with. Your want, your desperate argument you’d wasted countless breaths upon while getting ready for bed with Eddie. 

It’ll be fun, you’d whined to Eddie as you’d both crawled into bed, we even have the space in the living room. 

Sweetheart, you’re fucking terrified of snakes, Eddie had easily rebuttalled. He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t stop you from huffing like a petulant child. 

That’s an exaggeration, you argued right back.

Your hands had still shook ferociously that first day of bringing home the snake when you’d been the one to move him from the small container the store had placed him and into the full fifty gallon tank now occupying a fairly large chunk of the apartment’s living room. 

You’re still lost in your head as the door swings open for Eddie right as the first chorus of the song begins. He’s dramatic, fully committed, a glimmer of who he must have been in high school shining right through as he struts confidently into your friends’ apartment. 

A version of Eddie you somehow missed despite never having met. You almost wonder if you would have still ended up here if you’d met then; you almost wonder if you would have still ended up at each other’s throats inevitably, even in those days. 

You probably would have. You secretly hope that it all would have still happened exactly as it has. 

“No fucking way!” 

Robin is the first voice you can hear excitedly shriek out a reaction to Eddie, followed by a sharp hush from Nancy. They’re deeper in the apartment, out of your line of sight. You can hear Jonathan’s muttered response lost in the music, and you can smell Argyle’s presence rather than hear or see it. 

Weed had been expected, but Steve and Robin were strict in their rule of only partaking on the balcony. 

“Yes fucking way,” Eddie responds, clearly giddy. You finally trail in behind him, not necessarily shy but certainly not nearly as extravagant as he had been. You hang back a bit, biting back a grin, just admiring your boy.

All warmth, rosey cheeks spread wide in his boyish grin, eyes bright as he wiggles his brows as Robin. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Robin whispers as she rushes forward, glancing over her shoulder, clearly looking for Steve before she leans it a tad bit closer towards Lestat. 

“Mama didn’t raise a bitch,” Eddie snarkily replies, moving to slowly remove the snake from his neck. 

“Language,” you jokingly scold him, reaching out to take the snake from his hands as he brings it to his chest, giving Robin a closer look at the nearly-glimmering pale scales of your pet. Almost instinctively, he starts to pull the animal away, but once he sees the look on your face, he’s quick to hand him over. “No cursing around our son.”

Nancy finally walks up, still no sign of Steve as she joins your side and Lestat wraps his body slowly around your wrist, “Oh my God, don’t tell me you also refer to this thing as your child.” 

“This thing?” Eddie huffs, more offended than you, “Nance, he has a name.” 

Robin has gravitated towards you now, entirely captivated by the ball python, eyes shimmering as she lets out the smallest gasps and squeals under her breath, “What’s his name?” 

“Lestat,” you whisper, watching Nancy and Eddie grow closer and clearly get more immersed in their own private conversation, “But Eddie wanted to name him Frodo.” 

“Frodo,” Robin chuckles a little, looking at you questioningly as she holds out a timid finger. You give her a nod, moving a thicker part of the snake’s body to face her rather than the head, “Sounds like Eddie.” 

It did indeed. Once the bickering of whether or not you two would even get the snake to begin with had faded, the entire argument of what its name would be had started up. Eddie wanted the snake to be named after his favorite books – you wanted to name the snake after your most recent reads. 

You’d clearly won. At the sacrifice of promising the inevitable first of many cats you and Eddie would eventually have be named Frodo instead. But you’d still won. 

Robin’s eyes finally leave the snake long enough to take in your own outfit, and you hadn’t realized it was possible for the girl’s grin to widen, “Wait - are you dressed as Lady Gaga from her Paparazzi performance?” 

“Oh, my dear Birdie,” you coo out the endearment, shivering slightly as the cool body of the snake continues to slither up near your elbow, “This night is just getting started.”

—

You were right. The night had just begun. 

The first few hours pass fairly chaotically. A languid and rapid mixing of everyone excitedly catching up on each other’s lives, various drinks beginning to be concocted. Some delicious, and some spurring gags from others simply from the description of the hard liquor that had gone into them. 

Argyle had managed to lure many of the group out onto the patio at various intervals to partake in the devil’s lettuce, as he had proudly proclaimed it. Nancy and Jonathan had figured out a way to set up a makeshift karaoke party in the living room, lyrics for songs being displayed on the main TV. And Steve, for all his attentive hospitality as the one of the co-hosts of the night, had remained painfully oblivious. 

Eddie had gone behind his back when it came to bringing Lestat. Steve had made it clear when the two of you had purchased the puppy in reptile form that he wanted nothing to do with the python, while the rest of the group had been easily intrigued – especially Robin. And so once Eddie had decided upon his Britney outfit, the next logical step had been securing Lestat’s attendance at the party. He hadn’t texted Steve - or Nancy, as a matter of fact - but rather Robin. 

The girl hadn’t even taken a minute to respond, overly enthusiastic to meet the snake. 

Everyone had slowly become a part of a more silent bet as the night dragged on, and for once, you and Eddie were on the betting side of it all. The drinks were poured, the weed was smoked, the music was sung along to painfully off-key, and Steve never once noticed the snake that was frequently wrapped around various parts of yours and Eddie’s body. 

The quick exchanges probably didn’t help. When Steve needed your help in the kitchen at one point, you’d smoothly handed Lestat over to Eddie in passing. When Eddie had agreed to join Jonathan and Argyle on the balcony at one point, he’d easily and carefully draped the snake across the nape of your neck from behind the couch. Hell, you’d even spent a good five minutes engrossed in a conversation with Steve, all the while Lestat had been comfortably coiled around your bicep opposite the man. 

As the hours passed by, you found yourself wanting to be caught. 

Your phone pings suddenly as you bury yourself deeper into the leather couch, giggling over Steve’s current rendition of What’s New Scooby Doo?. 

You shuffle carefully to pull it from where you’d wedged it against your hip, trapped weakly by your white bottoms speckled with glittery blood.

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND: I want a cigarette :-( 

You do a double take of the contact name, blinking rapidly before you finally connect the dots. 

YOU: when the hell did you change your contact name in my phone?

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND:  Unimportant. 

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND:  Do you think if I hand Lestat off to you right now that Steve would notice? 

Your eyes flick up as the song ends, Robin having jumped up to finish off the performance with Steve, the two of them a mess of flailing limbs clinging to each other and joyful laughter bubbling out of them for unknown reasons. 

Well, partially unknown reasons. One of them was surely the strange concoction the two of them had chugged at some point in the night that had included both watermelon flavored vodka and green apple whiskey. That had been one you’d cringed and stuck your tongue out at. 

YOU: 50/50 chance. And NOT unimportant btw, what’s my name in YOUR phone? 

Just as Eddie exits the bathroom, Steve perks up at the sound of the door and distant flush, removing himself entirely from Robin’s embrace, “Fuckin’ finally! I have to piss.”

Everyone holds their breath as he rushes past Eddie, but he still remains completely unaware of the snake that Eddie is carrying. 

The slam of the door times perfectly with Eddie’s collapse onto the couch next to you, a shy and guilty grin already gracing his face before you even begin bursting at the seams with continuing the text conversation face-to-face. 

“Seriously,” you waste no time, turning to him quickly and your knee easily overlapping his thigh as you shuffle into a more comfortable position, “When did you change your name in my phone, asshole?” 

He takes his time answering, pulling on the ridiculously small jean shorts he wears as his shoulders quiver with the effort of holding in his laughter, “Words hurt, baby.” 

You hate the way nicknames as simple as baby can send still shivers down your spine. 

“You couldn’t have at least been a little more creative? Like, world’s hottest boyfriend? C’mon, you can be more clever than that, surely.” 

It’s easy to do this, to egg him on and prod at his ego in the softest of ways. It’s also always been a dead giveaway to him that he’s gotten under your skin. 

“My name with a pretty black heart next to it just wasn’t cutting it anymore,” he pouts exaggeratedly, leaning into your space a bit, holding the snake a careful distance away as he looks into your eyes and a suspiciously jubilant look crosses his face, “What would you have preferred?” 

“Something shorter,” you breathe out, feeling some of the alcohol coursing through your veins now, making your headswim as you suck in the scent of his cologne heavy in the space between you, “It’s a bit of a mouthful, if I’m being honest.” 

“It is,” he nods, and his lips spread salaciously, pupils growing just a tad bit wider before he delivers a devastating blow, “But we both know you can take it, can’t you, baby?”

Damn him. Fuck him. Send him all the way down to the depths of Hell, for all you care. 

He’s caught on to a clear game he can play now that you’re tipsy, one that he certainly has the upper hand in, and you can’t tell if the night ending in him winning it would actually spell your loss. You swear, you can already feel his hands on your hips, tearing off the costume you’d spent several weeks carefully sewing sequins into, his lips getting sticky with all the fake blood across your torso, his- 

Huh. Never had you realized yourself to be such a horny drunk. 

“Now I need a cigarette,” you grumble, leaning away from him, trying to break whatever spell he was casting. None of your friends’ have even noticed the interaction happening on the couch, saving you from eternal embarrassment. 

If you’d had less pinot noir and shots of Fireball whiskey in your veins, you’d probably still find the decency in you to be self-conscious at toying with these things in public. Maybe scold him, maybe douse out whatever flames he was attempting to ignite. 

Eddie leans back as well, clearly satisfied with himself as he lifts Lestat up to preoccupy himself by pretending to study the lightened coloring of the snake. Mostly white, with splatterings of a traditional morph at random across the body. The woman who had sold the snake to the two of you had referred to it as a piebald. If you had been shopping with an actual breeder rather than a reputable rescue, he would have cost an arm and a leg. 

Luck had been on your side the day you’d stumbled upon the snake. You wish luck was still on your side tonight. 

Eddie sticks out the tip of his tongue to mimic the snake a few times before he focuses on you again, “You know, we could always see if Robin wants to watch him while we both go grab one.”

You have no clue how the girl had heard him from across the living room, but she suddenly appears at his side, just as eager in appearance as her original text giving the blessing to bring Lestat had been. 

“Did someone say I could hold the snake?” she bounces a bit on the balls of her feet, looking down with utter fascination, “Please tell me you guys just said I could hold the little guy. When you first got him, I did a ton of research so I’d know proper handling tips, and also how to know if he gets too stressed. Also I may or may not have been nervous about how often they bite, but I found out that-”

“They don’t bite,” Eddie interrupts with reassurance, offering a small smile as he looks up to her, “At least, not very often. You usually have to aggravate them pretty badly, or catch them on a really shit day for them to strike.” 

It had been a huge selling point in convincing him. Ball pythons were docile in nature, and they’d be quicker to match up to their namesake by balling up than actually strike out at someone. 

Of course, the day you had been informing of this, you had no idea he was already aware of it. He knew they didn’t bite, he knew the specifics of what a habitat for them needed, he knew their dietary needs – he’d already had an Amazon shopping cart filled with supplies after the first time you brought the snake up to him, unbeknownst to you. 

“Yeah,” Robin nods ferociously, hands reaching out carefully, already more than prepared to take the snake, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now hand over the baby and go do whatever debauchery you two are clearly wanting to get up to.” 

“We aren’t getting up to debauchery!” you try to defend the two of you, watching Eddie carefully uncurl Lestat from his arm to pass him into Robin’s waiting hands, “Eddie just wants a cigarette and-”

“And you want to join him and probably get in some hot and steamy makeout sessions, right?” Robin finishes your sentence for you, quirking an eyebrow for a second before letting out a whisper of a squeal when Lestat takes to her quickly. His tail wraps around the length of her wrist and you’re shocked as you watch him stay just as curious as he had been while held by you and Eddie. A tad bit more reserved, but no sign of balling up any time soon. 

Eddie stands from the couch, patting his largest back pocket to ensure his pack of cigarettes and lighter are still safely tucked into it, and you know it’s useless to keep arguing with Robin. She’s entirely entrapped by the snake in her hands now, whispering in a high-pitched tone that surprisingly doesn’t seem to bother Lestat. All her coos nearly resemble baby-talk. It’s cute – sort of. A direct mirror of how you and Eddie have been acting at home when you handle the ball python. 

You stand slower than Eddie had, hawk eyes still glued to your friend, “Just- Just be careful, okay? Avoid touching his head, and don’t wave your hands around too much while talking, because it can scare him. He also might try and crawl up to your hair because Eddie lets him hide in his at home, and sometimes he’ll pull on it because it sticks to him, so just-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie stresses, throwing an arm around your shoulders, giving your bicep opposite from him a quick squeeze, “She’ll be fine.” 

Robin nods, clearly only half listening to the debate as she watches Lestat wander up her arm in clear wonder. 

It sort of does feel like Lestat is your actual human child, as though you’re leaving your toddler with a babysitter for the first time. 

Eddie tugs you deeper into his side, musky cinnamon and boyish charm filling your nose as he leans down and murmurs, “C’mon.” 

A Ghost song starts to thump over the speakers as you allow Eddie to guide you over to the sliding door beside the kitchen, the layout different and even a tad bit nicer than your own apartment. It’s odd, the view of the kitchen being clearer than the living room, the exact opposite of how your home is. 

Home. Even in your tipsy state, even after so much time having living with Eddie and even going as far as to now own a pet with him, the notion fills you with warmth. 

Maybe you’re actually a sentimental drunk. 

As the two of you pass by Argyle, he briefly lifts his head, cherry-shaded eyes peering up excitedly until Eddie quickly shakes his head, making the poor man sink back against the loveseat that he occupies with Jonathan and Nancy. You almost feel bad, but it’s clear Argyle is too far gone to even feel disappointment right now. 

“After you, m’lady,” Eddie chivalrously slides the door open for you, half-bowing and putting on a half-assed British accent as he sweeps his arm for you to exit onto the balcony first. 

“It’s Lady Gaga to you,” you snark as you slip out into the crisp Autumn air, cheeks cooling instantly. 

“Oh,” the door slides shut with a soft thud behind Eddie as he joins you, face immediately covered by the shadows of the evening, “My apologies.” 

It’s nice out. Far nicer than any October has been in the city in what feels like years. The air is refreshing, dare you even say sobering, and the city lights below wink at you as you hear all the distant noises of life. Car horns, children’s laughter, music from other parties. It sounds as though one of the neighbors below is blasting heavy rap, and you swear you can hear the trill of a radio pop song from your left. 

Beer, cider, pumpkin spice – it all fills the air. It’s Halloween, and it’s nice. 

The breeze is electric with all the livelihood, sending goosebumps up your arms as you approach the railing, looking out across a night sky painted some sort of faded cross between navy and grey rather than a stark black of midnight. 

It all turns to static the moment Eddie wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, heavy pack of cigarettes in his palm as his lips find solace in one of the few bare patches of skin on your shoulder. 

“God, I love Halloween,” he murmurs against you, his breath hot as it catches across your costume. 

God, I love you.

You can’t help the cheesy thought as a hand comes up to grip Eddie’s forearm, giving three short squeezes, pulling him just a tad bit closer. But it’s true – Halloween was wonderful, you’d always enjoyed any excuse to get together with your friends and family, but it had never felt quite like this. 

Planning cliche dates during the season, movie marathons spent cuddling up with your other half rather than sitting across on a couch from friends. Kisses in the pumpkin patch. Cider on his lips. Putting up decorations and ending up chasing each other around the apartment, landing in a pile of limbs that slot against one another perfectly. Arguing about which decorations should go on the balcony, which garland to line your front door with. 

It wasn’t a replacement for spending time with your friends. And there were still crude jokes, still bickering over timing of plans and locations to visit. It still felt like spending the holiday with friends – it was spending it with your best friend. 

Eddie Munson. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. The sentiment is unexpected to past you, but so entirely welcome by the you currently enveloped in his embrace.

“I used to insist on spending Halloween alone, you know,” you mumble as his chin digs in the point where your shoulder connects to your neck, vision blurring as you continue to stare out at the tiny busy streets, “Just, like, lay around in my dorm. Watch shitty horror movies on my laptop until I got too scared and had to find some dumb comedy to help me sleep. It was the only day of the year where my roommate sort of acknowledged my existence. She was the one who’d go out, and she’d get all this candy and share it with me.” 

You don’t know the point of your rambling, but Eddie is listening intently anyways. 

You turn carefully in his arms, now mesmerized by how his face looks in the warm glow of the seasonal lights Robin and Steve had put up. Shades of orange flickering across his amber eyes, shadows making all his sharpness in his features more prominent. 

“Talking about it now sounds kind of boring,” you muse, laughing a bit dryly, “The most festive thing I would do was going to the Halloween store with Robin and Steve once they opened.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly, arms still tangled around you, grinning gently, “I don’t think that’s too boring.” 

“It was,” you insist, pressing just a little closer to him, “God, it was so boring. Not going to the store with those idiots – I mean, that was pretty fun. But it was nothing compared to setting up a snake habitat, or carving pumpkins with you. Now I can watch whatever slasher you want before bed, and I still sleep just fine, cause I’ve got you to protect me.” 

His smile matches your own – radiant, proud, happy. 

“Oh, definitely,” he nods once, twice. So sure, ego inflated for the bit, “Any scary men with a chainsaw dare to break into our apartment, and I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

Our apartment. The perfect ring to it. 

“Didn’t you scream about that spider in our apartment yesterday? Like, full on squeal, hopping up onto the couch, begging me to save you-” 

He cuts off all your teasing, even though it was true, with a kiss. Simple, strong, sure. Fingers dancing under your chin to pull you up to him, meeting you halfway and not even hiding his smile at your antics as he effectively shuts you up. 

“We agreed to not talk about that,” he mumbles against your lips, tasting like the last shot of whiskey he took with Nancy. 

“You agreed to not talk about it,” you pester back, trying to pull away from his kiss. But his other hand comes up, trapping your face between both his palms, and it’s a useless effort, “I just promised to not immediately share the photo of you up on the couch with everyone.” 

Half the words are hardly articulate as his lips continue to nip at yours, struggling from your wide smile and the way your entire body is shaking from your giggles. You can feel the cold metal of the railing brushing your exposed lower back, a breeze picking up that can be blamed for the goosebumps racing down your spine rather than Eddie’s wandering hand. It’s not devourment, it’s not desperation, it’s not Earth-shattering. 

It’s something like mending. Something like a promise. 

Living together, celebrating the holidays together, owning a pet together – they were all baby steps leading to something even brighter in the future. An unspoken truth between the both of you. An inevitable crescendo to all that had been built. 

Eddie whines a bit when you pull away again, but this time, your forehead stays pressed to his. A joint effort between the way you tilt your head and the way his hands press you against him.

“Do you remember the last time we were on a balcony together?” you ask in a low whisper, trying to mimic the same suggestive tone that he’s always been able to put on at the drop of a hat.

You’re not quite as talented as him. You’re actually just a giggly drunk.

His brows furrow, “What? This morning?” 

“No.” 

“Two nights ago, when you insisted Lestat needed to see the moon?”

“No.” 

“Are you talking about the afternoon we had a redo of our pumpkin carving contest? Because I still won again, fair and square, ba-”

“I’m talking about the bet, you idiot.” 

His fingertips press a bit deeper into your flesh, his lips forming a wobbly ‘o’ as he stares down at you, “How was I supposed to know you were referring to that? That was definitely not the last time we were on a balcony together-”

You shut him up with the same courtesy as he had done to you, adding in a roll of your eyes before your hands wrap around his neck to pull him into you. This time, you make it hot and heavy. Lips and teeth and tongues, grabby hands from the both of you making their way across all the exposed skin and scraps of costumes you two wear. It takes Eddie aback at first, clearly not expecting the sudden passion, but he recovers quickly. 

He remembers exactly what you’re referring to quickly. 

Your back collides a bit harsher with the railing as he rolls his body up against yours, not a breath of space between the two of you as he wedges his knee between your thighs. You have no idea where his pack of cigarettes has vanished to, but you don’t care. All you really care about is the way he’s holding you, the way he’s suffocating you, the way he’s watering you. 

It’s hard to believe the garden within that he’s nurtured at your side for the last year was ever something broken. That there was once a time it was nothing more than dried vines and pathetic blossoms begging to see the light of day. Now, the warmth of a thousand suns was gifted to you every morning you awoke to his smile. Every joke, every small caring act, every kiss stolen just because one of you felt like it. You two may have accidentally killed that first plant you bought the week you moved in properly with him, but this? 

You can’t imagine a day where the two of you ever might let this die off. 

His lips break from yours, predictably painting a path along your jaw as he murmurs, “I think I do remember. But, just in case – wanna remind me?” 

And for a second, you almost do. 

All your coils are tight across your body, burning in your abdomen and shaking in your knees, but all it takes is the faintest movement of a shadow to remember all your friends inside the apartment still. 

“We can’t,” you whisper, as if they might hear you in the glass, trying to pry yourself away from him just as his teeth start to graze your neck, “Seriously - we can’t.” 

Eddie chuckles lowly against your neck, and you know exactly why. 

You’d started this without even considering the consequences. 

“Started something you can’t finish, didn’t ya, baby?” 

Oh, damn him. That stupid low and teasing tone. That dimple you can feel brush against your skin as he moves his mouth to the other side of your neck. All the heat in your body travels south, pooling between your hips, aching for him to go against your wishes to avoid embarrassment and just finish this. 

He doesn’t, though. You’re starting to believe he’s less drunk than you are, a clearer mind than your own with far more sensibility than he seems capable of most of the time. His lips leave your neck, his hands finding the polite placement of hovering over your hips. The fog is starting to clear, if only just the slightest bit, and-

You were wrong. So, so wrong. 

He’s not sensible. That wicked hand placement was nowhere near polite. In an instant, he’s latched onto you tightly and spun you around, quickly bending you over against the railing so your chest presses into the metal and the cold sends shockwaves across your entire body. Your ass is pressed to his crotch and one hand holds you securely, tight enough that he can be sure you won’t fall, as the other crawls up your back at impeccable speed to press you further down. 

Immediately, you’re squealing, “Eddie!” 

His laughter is just as loud as all your protests as you come face-to-face with the true height of a three-story balcony, knuckles paling from gripping onto the bars. 

You’d hate him for it, but you feel the security of his palm and knuckles around your waist, and you know he’s not letting you go anywhere over that railing. He’s hardly even allowing your head to hang over it. 

The moment you start to lean back up against his hand on your back, he’s allowing it immediately. There’s no friction or fight as you stand up straight once more, back against his chest and your hands already prepared to swing back to smack him before both of his arms come up around your shoulders and cross your chest. 

“You asshole,” you gasp out, flailing hands deciding to grip strongly onto his forearms as he cradles you up in the tight embrace from behind, still chucking in your ear as you both take several steps back. Your heart pounds, and you’re pretty sure your nails are biting into his skin. 

Maybe they’ll leave a mark – you hope they sort of hurt. 

“Just had to make sure you really do remember that night,” he jokes, trying to lean his head far enough over your shoulder to get a good look at your face, “I think the bars would have been a bit more exposing, though, yeah?” 

Your nails dig in deeper, and his grin widens. 

Bastard.

“What if I had fallen?” you snap, finding it hard to be mad at him. Those damned strong arms around you, the thump of his own heart right against the space between your shoulder blades, that fucking dimple. 

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

If the two of you had children some day, would they have his dimples? 

“We’re both drunk-”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“-And I’m pretty sure this balcony isn’t up to OSHA standards-”

“Oh, it definitely isn’t.” 

“-And you almost left our poor son motherless,” you finish off with a forced scowl, shaking off his embrace to face him properly, “Are you prepared for that? Were you prepared to be a single father?” 

God, you hate his fucking smile. God, you hope if you have real kids someday, they have that same shit-eating grin. 

With a pout of his lips, he steps back up to you, looking down tauntingly, “You’re right, baby. I didn’t even think about poor Lestat.”

You hum, standing your ground, but your defenses are quickly crumbling. Your mind is running with too many thoughts, exhausting itself over everything except the residing anger you should feel at your absolute nuisance of a boyfriend. 

The feeling of being held down by him in that position once more. How the heat of his body had warmed you, and you’d only noticed now that the cool air was attacking your exposed back. Swimming in the visions of what color eyes your children might have, pigtail curls of a little girl with Eddie’s defiance or a little boy who wears his shit-eating grin as he exhibits your same unbreakable curiosity. 

You definitely shouldn’t have drank so much tonight. It doesn’t matter what kind of drunk you are – it was a bad idea regardless.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Eddie’s voice takes you out of your thoughts as he slides his arms around your waist, always needing to be touching you, clingy to a ridiculous degree. 

You weren’t complaining, though. How could you? If given the option, you’d make a home out of his bones in a fraction of a heartbeat as well. 

“Nothin’,” you lie through a sigh, head tilted dramatically, much preferring to focus on the ginger contours of Eddie’s cheeks than whatever future Jack Daniels had been painting in your mind. 

“Bullshit,” he doesn’t hesitate to call you out on it. And it’s not the alcohol fueling his boldness – it’s just how he is. He knows you better than the back of his hand, the roof of his mouth, his favorite songs on guitar. He knows you. “You got this dreamy look in your eyes, and you’re staring so hard over my shoulder, I’m almost scared I’ll turn around to see a ghost in the window-” 

Jack Daniels will be your arch nemesis after tonight, the culprit behind the way the words suddenly tumble out of your mouth, “Do you think we’ll have kids someday?” 

You wait for the air to leave the space between the two of you with the same urgency it’s left your lungs. You wait for a crack in the air, a chasm to suddenly appear. It’s heavy – God, it’s a heavy question to suddenly ask your boyfriend of one year at a Halloween party. You’re both drunk on your friends’ balcony, and you were having a perfectly sweet moment, and you’d just gone and ruined it. And to top it all off, Eddie was still just smiling, and- 

Wait. 

Eddie was smiling. 

The air was still there, filling his lungs with calm breaths. No sign of fear within his twinkling eyes. No chasm squeezing between the stitches holding you two together. 

He’s just smiling. 

“Is that really what you were thinking about?” he quietly asks.

You almost don’t want to answer. You almost want to force out cackles of fake laughter, to double over and face the ground rather than his humored expression. 

“Yeah.” 

Maybe he doesn’t believe you yet, maybe he has to double check before he breaks out into his own laughter. Maybe the alcohol in both your veins is just delaying the inevitable that you’d been originally expecting. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Maybe not. 

Instead of laughter, instead of mocking you, he keeps a cheery expression as he shrugs softly, “I mean, maybe? I sort of hope so. And, don’t get me wrong, I know a kid is a pretty far leap from a snake, but I’d say we make a pretty good team at keeping living things…. Well, living, y’know? Besides, I solemnly swear I won’t try to name our kids after Tolkien. I’ll reserve those names for the pets.” 

All the air leaves your lungs again, but this time, it’s a little less painful, “What?” 

“Annie’s a cute name,” he continues on, completely unphased. It’s nearly impossible to remember that you were the one who had started such a serious conversation about the future, “I also like the name Parker. I remember you mentioned that one once, right? Something about being able to nickname the kid Pac-Man, I’m pretty sure. I think that’d be pretty sick.” 

And oh, was he right. You had mentioned the name Parker once. Just not to him. Not directly, at least.

The entire ridiculous make-believe scenario had come to you during a girls’ night, after one too many glasses of wine and Nancy bringing up the topic. You, her, and Robin had all spent a good hour coming up with names for children and the best nicknames to suit them. Some had been genuine, and some had been for nothing more than shits and giggles. 

Parker, and the nickname Pac-Man, had been serious for you. Parker Anthony. You hadn’t figured out a second middle name to complete the initial acronym of Pac that night, the rosé eventually getting to you, but you had been serious. 

“You were listening that night?” you breathe out, only feeling slightly betrayed, “What the Hell? I thought you said you were going to put your headphones on and listen to some Metallica to unwind after work.”

“I lied,” he cheeses, hot palms against your barren lower back, “I’m nosey. Sue me.” 

“You could have just joined us, Eddie.” 

“And miss the chance to hear you plot out the middle names of our future children?” Eddie snorts, “Not a chance, sweetheart.” 

He says it so casually, you wonder if it’s possible for a heart to burst from optimism. 

“So,” you pause, take a deep breath, feeling the embarrassment creep back up your throat, “Is that, uh…. Is that a yes? That you do think so?”

Why was it so hard to repeat yourself, to just say the words already spoken? 

Eddie had made it clear you had nothing to lose. You two were on the same page. He hadn’t scoffed in your face, he hadn’t even pulled away at the mere mention of the idea. Instead, he had leaned fully into it, head-first as he slid right into the imaginary future with you. He’d given a name to the little girl with his hair and his spunk, to the little boy with his dimples and his mischief. 

Was it still a little too soon, too fast? Was that where the hesitation was born from? 

It just all felt a bit too easy. After the rocky start you two had endured, this entire last year had just felt too simple. 

Of course, even if the hesitation was sitting there in the pit of your stomach alongside all of your anxieties, all of your waiting for the other shoe to drop, Eddie easily soothes it all over as he gives a slow nod and responds, “Yeah. I do – I really do.” 

And you clearly wear your heart on your sleeve, emotions painted across your eyes and cheeks for him to read clear as day, because he notices that catch in your breath.

“Not right now,” he rushes to add on, “I mean, listen, we’re still adjusting to Lestat. I think I’d like to be a cat dad too, before I even think about being a girl dad.” 

“You’re gonna be a girl dad?” you laugh out without thinking, starting to thaw into a conversation that Jack Daniels had begun but you know you can surely finish with Eddie at your side, “That’s… unexpected.” 

His face scrunches for the first time during the entire conversation, “What? You don’t think I’d be a good girl dad? I already deal with my rat’s nest of hair, so I know I’d be at least decent at braiding. And can you imagine getting to take a mini-you to shows, or buying her some cute unicorn helmet once she’s old enough to ride ol’ Nightfury? God, I think I might die from cuteness overload…”

Your cheeks are aching, ears ringing with his words. But all you can do is latch onto one little phrase: mini-you. 

Here you were, picturing duplicates of Eddie bounding around the two of you, and you hadn’t considered what he might be seeing. 

Not a child with his spunk. No, he’s seeing a little girl with your wit. A little boy with your stubbornness. Those eyes of his, nearly resembling heart-shapes at this point, weren’t wanting to see carbon copies of his whiskey irises. He wanted yours to be looking back up at him. 

Hearts clearly can’t burst from an overload of optimism, of happiness. Yours beats wildly as proof, still intact behind your ribs that bloom with rosebuds for the boy pressed to your front. 

“Mini-me?” you murmur, making him trail off, focused entirely on you so sincerely you could choke up. You shake your head, letting out a soft huff of air, smiling down at the ground, “No, I- I think you’ll be an amazing dad, Eddie. I just didn’t…. I just forgot…”

“That I’m with you all the way?” he finishes your sentence for you, one eyebrow arched as he gives a squeeze to one of your hips, “You could decide tomorrow you don’t even want to talk about having a kid ever again, that you’d rather get ten more snakes and live as some sort of cryptic couple somewhere in the Midwest the rest of our lives, and I’d be just as excited. I don’t really care where we end up, sweetheart – I just care that it’s with you,” You can no longer tell if it’s his words or the remnants of alcohol in your system that has you tearing up. All you know is that you are, and it’s ridiculous, but it’s fine, because all you see are dark brown eyes and entire realms of possibility in front of you, “Girl dad, snake dad, cat dad – whatever you need from me, I’m your guy.”

When the first tear falls, you're quick to shoot one hand up to your cheek in order to swipe it away as the other reaches out blindly to smack Eddie softly, “Shut up. Stop being cheesy. I’m too drunk for this.” 

“You’re right,” he nods ferociously, taking over the duty of wiping away your tears without so much as mentioning it, “Wanna make out again instead?” 

You let out a snort, and it eggs him on. 

“Or, hey,” his eyes light up, some of the seriousness of the moment fading naturally, “Maybe we ditch this party and start practicing. You know, in case we still want kids someday.” 

His pupils widen a bit, and you know surely that it’s only half a joke. You don’t miss the way his breathing picks up at the thought.

“Careful, big boy,” you tease, leaning into his feathery touch on your cheek, relishing the way the nickname draws him under your spell even when you aren’t saying it with an ounce of gravity, “It’d be awfully dangerous to get yourself worked up in such short shorts.” 

Saying it outloud almost makes you want to see it, genuinely. 

“Worked up?” he scoffs, backing up a little, caught off-guard, “Who says I’m getting worked up? I’m not getting worked up.” 

It doesn’t matter how many steps back he takes from you, you still follow, your palm still lands dead center on his chest as you roll your eyes, “Right. Because I’m totally meant to believe that the guy who used to jack off to Playboy magazines with girls who looked like me isn’t going to pop a boner at the thought of fucking a baby into me-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Nearly more resembling a bite, his canines digging right into your bottom lip as he pulls you forward and collapses back against the glass door behind him. 

No words are spoken, no subtle interruptions for this kiss. Toying a dangerous line, dancing along a narrow cliff, and he’s the one who’s decided to drag the two of you off of it. 

You don’t mind. You’d follow him to the ends of the world if he asked you to. 

When one of his hands reaches up to your scalp, tugging at the roots of your hair for no other reason than he can, your mouth opens up into a silent laugh. An invitation, a jeer, a challenge. A quiet whisper of go ahead, do it. Consume me already. 

He’s already everything to you. He’s already a definition of home thinly veiled with skin and bones, a future with a heartbeat. 

His tongue down your throat doesn’t change the matter. Just reclaims it. 

A whine is lost in translation somewhere from the back of your throat and right into his cheeks. His right hand wraps around some of the skin of one of your thighs, encouraging it to lift up to his hip, and you can still feel the memory of his usual rings imprinting into your skin. A permanent tattoo, a ghost of a feeling that’ll haunt you for all time – you love it. You want to live there forever, right here in this haunted house, collecting memories and dust of all that he is. 

Haunted houses are only lonely when you’re left to wander these halls all by yourself, and you think he’d truly cross over into the actual afterlife rather than leave you like that. 

The kiss is almost enough to forget where you are and who’s waiting on you inside the apartment. It’s almost enough to have you recreating that fateful night from over a year ago, to let him bend you back over this balcony railing again, and this time, any squeals you let out won’t be of fear. You’d face that fall head on.

His hot hands on your waist, his tongue in your cheek, his knee once again pressed between your inner thighs. Him, him, him-

A sharp rap sounds on the sliding door behind Eddie, and you’ve never jumped apart faster. 

It’s Robin and Nancy at the door, Lestat happily wrapped around Robin’s forearm as she waves and points eagerly to him and Nancy simply crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow as though she might have been a disappointed mother rather than a friend at the moment. 

You done? Robin mouths, exaggerating her silent enunciation. 

As you nod, Eddie only deeply sighs, throwing his head back against the glass with a soft thump. Nancy is quick to throw out a palm against the glass and tap back at him, mimicking swatting him for his theatrics. 

Eddie pays no mind to Nancy’s retaliation, or maybe he just doesn’t see it, as he whines out, “I didn’t even get my cigarette.”

“Oh, cut it out, drama queen,” you snicker, trying to hide all your breathlessness as you fully pull away, “We’ve left our son alone long enough. You can chainsmoke to your heart’s desire once we get back home.” 

You’re already walking towards the door, Nancy and Robin having retreated further into the kitchen, when he catches your wrist to tug you back close to him. He leans down, deliberate and careful to make sure his lips catch against the lobe of your ear, whispering soft as night, “Can’t chainsmoke if I’m too busy fucking a baby into you, sweetheart.” 

It feels like someone’s poured literal fire across your body. As if flames have been dumped over the crown of your head, and are licking their pathway down your spine. 

“Eddie.” 

If you don’t get inside within the next ten seconds, you’re definitely going to make a decision you regret. 

He’s chuckling the entire time he steps around you, opening the door and waving for you to slip inside in front of him. Your entire body is still burning so violently, you barely register the way his fingers hang at his side and make a point to brush the back of your thigh when you pass him. 

Bastard, you want to snipe, but instead you just smile. 

—

The next morning, you’re awoken by the incessant pinging of your phone. 

You try to ignore it at first, burying your head deeper beneath the covers as a headache pulses at the edges of your mind, but after the fifth ping, it becomes impossible. 

“Who the fuck is texting us this early?” Eddie’s muffled voice complains into his pillow, facedown with one arm thrown across you securely. 

You can even feel him kick his bare legs in a show of defiance next to yours at the edge of the bed. If it wasn’t for the late night prior catching up to you, it’d be something sweet to laugh at. 

“What time is it?” you croak, scooching further up the bed, making Eddie’s arm around you only tighten. As if he can stop you from getting out of bed, or delay the inevitable by resisting you checking the phone, “Is it even early?” 

His free arm that had been tucked below his pillow flings out to the bedside table quickly, grabbing blindly for at least one of your phones. It doesn’t really matter if it’s yours or his; he’s got the password to both. 

“It’s eight in the fucking morning,” he curses, seeming more awake as he notices that he was right in it being early. “How in the fuck is anyone up right now? We didn’t leave until nearly three.”

His arm is finally loose enough for you to sit up properly, tugging the comforter with you to keep your bare chest covered, “Lemme see it.” 

“If it’s Harrington, can you post my bail for murder?” 

“You’re not killing Steve,” you nonchalantly reply as you snatch the phone right out of his hand. It had been yours, unsurprisingly. You don’t even know if Eddie remembered to put his own phone on the charger before the two of you had promptly passed out. You hardly even remember how you managed to do so, “But – yeah, it’s Steve.” 

“Fucking Harringt-”

“And Robin. And Jonathan.” 

“Have I mentioned I hate our friends?” 

The fog of sleep has officially lifted for you, and despite the wave of fatigue and aching joints you’d argue you’re far too young to be experiencing right now, you smile at your grumpy boyfriend. He exchanges his pillow for your stomach, shoving his entire cheek tightly to you as his arms wrap around you slowly. Clinging to you like a child, squinting against what little light pours in through the curtains. 

“You don’t hate them,” you murmur, holding the phone in one hand to get a better look at the phone as the other cards through his curls, “You hate mornings.” 

He hmphs in agreement, relaxing against your makeshift scalp massage. 

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A PHOTO OF ME WITH A SNAKE IN THIS CHAT? 

BIRDIE: it is too early to be yelling

DINGUS: oh my bad

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU, ROBIN, SEND A PHOTO OF A SNAKE IN THIS FUCKING CHAT? WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE IS THAT?

You can’t help the gasp that leaves your mouth as you begin to see what the entire commotion was, and Eddie is lifting his head immediately.

“What?” he questions, moving to lift himself up and peer over the top of the phone, nosier than ever, “Why did you gasp? Is someone dead?” 

You scroll up, finding the photo being referred to.

“Not yet.” 

Steve, clearly partaking in another round of karaoke. Eyes glazed over, mid stumble based on the blur. 

“What do you mean not yet?” 

Most impressively, most notably, is the snake around his neck. 

Lestat, without a care in the world, his upper body being cradled by Steve’s palm as your drunk friend appears to be serenading the snake. 

You bite back your smile, eyebrows high as you glance down at Eddie, “You remember when we let Steve sing Taylor Swift while holding Lestat? About… two and a half drinks after he finally noticed we had him, and he didn’t flip out courtesy to all that Absolute vodka?” 

“Oh, fuck me.” 

Eddie flings himself back to the edge of the bed in search of his phone just as another notification pings. 

JOHNNY: I’ll do you one better. I have a video.

You don’t know if you’ve ever watched Eddie excitedly type on his phone faster than he does once he’s read that message, already giggling like a fool long before you can see what he’s sent in the chat. 

LOVER BOY: Johnny, my boy, you can’t just say that and NOT send it.

JOHNNY: Unlike you, I don’t have a death wish. 

DINGUS: WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE WAS IT? IS IT EDDIE’S? 

YOU: i will not stand for this erasure of me as lestat’s mother. 

Eddie snorts and looks up at you with glee as he reads your response, “He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?” 

“Can we be buried next to each other?” you respond with a question instead, looking at him lazily, “We could have matching headstones.” 

“Oh, hell yeah,” his grin is worth whatever Hell there may come to pay with Steve and the Lestat debacle last night, “Should we look up designs or-” 

He’s cut off by the trill ringing of his own phone, watching several messages roll into the groupchat in quick succession. 

DINGUS: who the fuck is lestat?

BIRDIE: the snake, dingus. 

NANCE: As someone who has seen the video… I think Jonathan should send it. 

DINGUS: DON’T YOU DARE

You’re a mess of hoarse giggles, hardly able to look at Eddie for the fear of both of you descending right into a madness of laughter. Like two children staying up too late at a sleepover, the room rings out with all your little noises, Eddie propping up his chin to watch you with the widest of smiles. 

Except you’re not children – you’re just two idiots, in your shared apartment, with your shared snake in the living room and your shared friends blowing up both your phones. 

Mornings have never felt quite as sweet as this kind. 

“We’re gonna hear an earful next time he sees us, aren’t we?” Eddie finally sighs wistfully, rolling over flat on his back, head propped up slightly in your lap. 

“Oh, definitely,” you nod, taking to twirling his frizzed curls around your knuckles this time rather than scratching mindlessly at his scalp, “But who cares? You saw how in love with the snake he was after a few drinks. He’ll come around, sober this time.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut. 

You let the two of you sit in the quiet a bit longer, phones still buzzing with new messages, but the chaos can wait. For now, you just want to drink it in. Rays of vivid sunlight, the silence from the lack of the buzzing AC unit, the birds chirping annoyingly outside the window. You have one foot in relaxation, and one foot in the hangover you know you’ll have to battle once you choose to leave this bed. 

“You know what sounds good?” you question, nearly under your breath. You’re really thinking outloud more than anything, but Eddie still entertains you with a hum in his tired state, “Betty’s.” 

He’s the equivalent of a puppy dog who’s heard the word walk. One second, Eddie Munson is seemingly dead to the world, and the next, he’s perked up entirely. If it wasn’t for his nude state, he’d probably already be out the door with his keys in hand, dragging you right along with him. 

His eyes shimmer despite heavy lids as he asks, “Almond croissants?” 

A small nod, an ever present smile. You recall the conversation from the night before as you look into those deep russet eyes, and you see an entire future of late nights and almond croissants reflected back. 

“Almond croissants.”

[ramich]

Sometimes you gotta leave in a hurry, man, what can I say?

Except I didn't forget about any of it

I'm taking it all back

TvGirl Klance!!!

[pxrty-crxsher]

Art by @greenlights33

I dreamt I was standing in your doorstep

Licking sweat off of your forehead

With your finger in my mouth

And the sound when leather jackets hit the ground

- Not Allowed by TV Girl

[akuisinsane]

[ochiody]

you know where to find me, and i know where to look

[xprakzif]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 • 𝐦.𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

chapter 3 to tell him

chapter two here

parings: matt x fem!reader

warnings: this series contains: smut, cheating(don’t condone), suggestive content, cursing, angst, fluff, mixed emotions

summary: after matt confessed his love for her in front of her boyfriend, she found out the ugly truth. but they both realize they’re in denial..

“what’s going on..?” kian spoke.

“kian, i- i can explain this, just-“

“nah..i came to tell you i didn’t think this was gonna work out, but i think he did it for me.” kian pushed past her and matt, exiting the apartment.

she didn’t go after him.

“i was gonna tell him..” her voice cracking a bit.

“y/n, i’m sorry-“

“please, matt, just go..” she whispered, tears of something that wasn’t sadness rolled down her face.

“no- i need to talk to you-“

“GO!” she shouted, and with that, he hesitantly left her apartment.

the apology

it was her fault. she knew it was, it was all wrong. she didn’t want kian finding out this way. she wanted to explain, she wanted to break up with him. but he did it for her.

he didn’t answer her 27 calls or 11 long text messages in the span of 8 days.

i mean who would? she lied to him, backstabbed him.

she’s been avoiding the boys again. only going to work, caring for shadow, and sleeping the rest of the days away.

back at the triplets house, emotions were mixed.

matt blew up her phone, hundreds of calls, messages begging her to talk to him and apologizing for barging in. nick was oblivious to everything. but nick wasn’t stupid.

he knew his brothers knew something he didn’t.

“you two wouldn’t happen to know why y/n hasn’t been texting me back? ‘cause if you do, you better start talking. this isn’t okay,” nick stomped down the stairs to the kitchen where matt and chris were eating.

they both knew there was tension and both knew what was going on.

“hello?! am i talking to the fucking wall? clearly you know something i don’t,”

matt felt a lump creep up his throat, his eyes burning with tears threatening to fall. his lip quivered as he held back his urge to cry.

“i don’t know..” chris almost whispered, looking away. they both had lost their appetite at nick’s interrogation.

he wasn’t having any of it. “so.. we’re okay with our best friend being m.i.a? none of you care to go check on her-“

“it’s- it’s me! she’s mad at me- i didn’t mean to do this- any of this!” matt blurted out with his fist slamming against the table. the tears finally escaped as he put his face in his palms.

chris looked to him, not shocked, just surprised at the outburst.

“what..” nick approached the two and took a seat next to matt. “tell me what happened, matt. i’m not-“ he glanced at chris, “we’re not mad at you, okay?”

he lifted his head and nodded with red cheeks and puffy eyes, “well..”

she was curled up on her couch watching a movie trying anything to distract herself from the truth she had to face eventually.

her phone began to vibrate on the end table next to her. it was finally off dnd. it was upside down, no idea who was calling. her heart throbbed as she took a deep breath, reaching to grab the device.

it was nick calling.

a little disappointed that it wasn’t kian, but also relived it wasn’t kian, she answered.

“..hello” her voice soft and almost hoarse.

“y/n! i’m so glad you answered. how you feeling?” she couldn’t tell if he was happy or.. mad?

“i’m alright..” she lied.

“interesting, well where have you been?”

“home.. listen, i’m really sorry i hav-“

“no- y/n, i know everything. and i’m a little mad at you, for one you didn’t tell me this. i could’ve helped you! you didn’t have to shut me out, and two, you really hurt my brother..”

she weeped on the line, she knew. that was the reason she’d been ignoring him, all of them.

“y/n.. i think it’s best if you come talk to me in person. i think you owe someone an apology, and it’s not me..”

“i know, nick.. i know”

later on in the night, she was asleep in her bedroom. well she was trying to atleast.

her phone lit up the room indicating another phone call. this time, it was kian.

“..he-“

“kian! i’ve been cal-“

“no, i was only with her to get to her friends! she had hella famous friends,”

“wha..” she whispered. he was talking, but not to her?

“don’t worry babe, she’s gone now.” kian spoke. is she having a nightmare?

another voice was heard after his, “great, now i finally get all your time..” it was a girl.

“WHAT!?” she yelled causing shadow to leap off the bed and scurry away. she was loud enough for kian to hear her through the accidental call.

“oh shit- hello? y/n? what the h-“

“oh don’t worry kian, i heard it all.” she hung up the phone and threw it on the bed.

she was furious. she was being used all this time. at the same time, she realized she cheated on kian, but she wasn’t using him.

grabbing her phone once again, she blocked kian and deleted his entire contact as well as any photos she had with him.

on instinct, her finger tapped nicks contact and typed a message.

i think i’m ready and i have something to tell you

“chris clean this up!”

matt was trying to eat until he spotted chris’s mess of cereal was all over the counter.

“that’s what you’re here for,”

“i’m not touching that.”

“you’re closer, just do it!” their argument was shortly interrupted by the sound of their doorbell.

“who the hell is that?” the two stared at each other in fear and confusion.

“can you guys shut up? and clean up that mess, god!” nick came down the stairs passing his brothers. they watched him go to check the door.

“we’re we expecting someone today?” matt whispered wondering if he forgot.

nicks voice could be barley heard as he opened the door, “come in, i’m really glad you came!” the sound of his feet along with another pair made their way up the stairs.

“um, let’s just go to my room to talk for a second,” he appeared behind the wall that lead up to the kitchen. behind him was y/n.

both matt and chris had similar expressions. matt felt his heart throb at the sight of her. his eyes went wide and he stopped in his tracks.

“hi..” she softly greeted with a wave. shame and embarrassment was visible, she didn’t expect them to be awake so early.

“..hi?” the boys said in unison.

“didn’t i tell you to clean that up? whatever, come on, y/n” nick pulled her up to his room, avoiding the awkward encounter.

matt and chris couldn’t even speak, just spared a glance and continued with their breakfast.

nick and y/n sat on his bed. she explained what happened the night before with her now ex kian. nick comforted her and said to forget him.

he then told her matt told them everything.

“oh..”

“we aren’t mad at you, y/n. well i’m a bit disappointed, but that’s besides the point. you should talk it out with him.”

she looked away shamefully, “i know, i’m sorry i’ve been ignoring you guys. it was just a lot to take in,”

“it’s all good, we still love you!” the two giggled and playfully smacked eachother. it felt so good to have her bestfriend back.

but one thing that hadn’t settled yet was matt. after talking to nick, he assured her it was fine if she went down to talk to him alone.

this is how she found herself standing in front of his bedroom door, taking a giant deep breath. all the boys were settled into their own bedrooms, so it was easy for them to be alone.

she gained the courage to knock softly on the door, the same door she stood in front of that night, to the same room she’d been in causing all this chaos.

there was a moment of stillness. maybe he didn’t want to be bothered. maybe he didn’t want to hear from her after all.

ready to turn on her heels, the click of the knob sounded and matt was in the door frame. the pink shirt he wore brought out his worrisome, blue eyes. he still had a bit of shock on his face, although he knew it was her, his brothers never knock.

“can we talk?”

“yea.. come in,” he whispered. she stepped into the room with a white glow from the open curtains. he shut the door behind her as she hesitated to sit on the bed. his room was always nicely kept, that’s something she liked about him.

he sat beside her waiting for her to initiate the conversation. she gulped the nerves in her throat,

“matt,” her eyes were glossy, “i- i’m really sorry, for everything.. i never wanted to hurt you, i-i was just dumb! i wasn’t aware of my own feelings, so i messed with yours, and i’m so sorry. i really don’t wanna ruin what we all have- i’m a terrible person!”

she sobbed out her speech, holding back the tears that prickled at the corner of her eyes, clumping up her mascara.

he watched her the entire time. a frown formed on his lips. “y/n.. you’re not a terrible person. what you did was wrong, but we all make mistakes okay?”

he scooted closer for comfort, “i’m sorry too. for bursting in like that, on you and..” he hated that name. he wouldn’t say it.

“we broke up. he was using me, not that it mattered anyway..”

matt felt some sense of relief, then guilt. he wish he would’ve stepped in sooner. kian would’ve never been in the picture.

“can we all just be friends again? i miss being with you..” she pleaded.

they looked into eachothers eyes. he knew there was no way he could bare being “just friends” with her. but whatever made her happy.

he faked a smile, “of course, i’d never wanna lose you.” she suddenly embraced him by the waist, his arms wrapping around the back of her neck and shoulders, pulling her in as tight as possible.

this is gonna be painful.

the awkwardness

matt caught himself staring again.

she invited them to her apartment to film a video of them reacting to tiktok edits, for a change of scenery. she was feeding shadow, bent over to pour food in his bowl.

his eyes lingered for a bit too long, leaving him flustered with the view.

“hello? are you watching, matt?” nick snapped pushing the phone into his face.

“yes..”

although things were back to normal with chris and nick, her and matt still shared some tension.

everytime she came around it wasn’t like before. the conversations were shorter, the jokes weren’t vulgar, it’s like they were scared of eachother.

after the video, they sat around her bedroom. the room was filled with laughter and random noises mostly coming from chris.

her and nick were laying on the bed, matt sitting at the foot and chris laying on the carpeted floor. the bedside lamp illuminated their faces.

chris got up from the floor with a groan, “you have snacks? i’m so hungry,”

“chris, you ate 20 minutes ago..” nick mentioned the food they ordered not too long ago. he just shrugged and rolled his eyes.

“there’s stuff in the pantry, go ahead.” he wasted no time after she gave him an answer, heading out the room.

“i have to pee, brb.” nick followed chris out almost instantly, leaving her and matt alone.

there was awkward silence at first. her cat suddenly hopped on the bed and began meowing at matt, causing them to giggle.

“do you not want me on the bed, shadow?” he spoke toward the cat. “you give them a home and they end up hating you,”

all she could do was smile. the way he sat there and swatted playfully at shadow made her stomach flutter. getting lost in his blue eyes even though he wasn’t looking at her, had her in a trance.

until nick and chris barged in with the entire pantry.

“we should watch a movie!”

the accident

driving in the pouring rain, she was on her way back from work. the traffic wasn’t helping the fact that her stress levels were skyrocketing, the road rage was just a plus.

sitting in the traffic for so long, the night grew later and later. it was now 11, she got out at 9:30.

she decided to turn into a street she’d never been down before to beat the line of cars, and it worked except she didn’t know where she was.

the road was flooded, but the rain on her windshield made her blind.

there was so much going on and the car felt like it stopped moving. that’s because it did stop moving.

her car completely shut down after she drove through the pool of water, messing up her engine.

she tried pushing the gas, nothing. starting the car again, nothing.

“what?” pure panic rushed through her veins. she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know anything about cars, besides how to drive one and she was barley good at that.

she clicked on her hazards to look around, not single sign of life in sight.

she grabbed her phone to see if she could call someone, scrolling through her contacts. most of which either couldn’t drive, or were out of state.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

the only one left was matt.

there was the choice of calling him for help and sitting through an awkward ride with him, or being stranded waiting for a tow truck.

clicking on his contact, hesitation flooded her nerves, she pressed call. a bold choice.

a few rings went by, her heart beat being louder than the phone itself.

“y/n?” he finally spoke.

“hey- sorry to call so suddenly-“

“no, no- you’re fine. is everything alright?!” he sounded genuinely concerned.

“yes.. well no, im kinda stuck. i’m not sure where i’m at but my car won’t start-“

“wait, huh? send me your location, i’ll be on my way,” eagerly moving on the other line, he grabbed his keys, not caring that it was storming outside in just a hoodie and sweats.

“..thanks matt,”

it was a long 20 minutes. she called her insurance company which sent her a tow truck that was taking forever.

a familiar car pulled up next to hers, she knew who it was from all the beeping they did.

grabbing her valuables, she switched cars getting soaked in the process.

“jesus, y/n-“

“i know, just- don’t.” she was already annoyed from everything going wrong. he stood silent for a bit.

there came the tow truck. she signed off the car to get repaired and brought back to her apartment.

“stay at mines, it’s closer anyway.. how’d you even end up over here? it’s nowhere near your place..” matt gripped the wheel trying to navigate through the floods.

“i was just trying to beat the traffic- no, i can’t stay. shadows at home.” she reminded herself and him of the soul purpose she was rushing home. “i swear it’s like having an actual child. i love him so much though.”

till that day matt was still happy he gifted her a kitten. he loved seeing the joy that came from her talking about it. “let’s go get him- it really would be better for you to stay with me- i mean us, since you won’t have your car..”

she thought about it for a minute. knowing all the outcomes and none of them were relatively good.

“alright, i just have to grab a few things then,”

pulling into the parking spot, the rain began dying down. it was still splashing down, just not as severe. she got out, matt followed her in.

at first she was confused, thinking he would just wait in the car. but that wasn’t matt. he wouldn’t let her do anything by herself as long as he was with her.

“shadow! did you miss me baby?” they dryed their shoes on her indoor mat after she unlocked the door.

matt awkwardly stood in the living room, unsure what to do. “you can sit, you know.. i won’t be long,”

he nodded and took a seat on the couch. shadow came and sat right on his lap waiting for pets. she went to her bedroom and grabbed a tote bag to put some clothes in. it shouldn’t have been long, maybe a couple days until her car was ready.

coming back to where matt was, she stopped by the kitchen to get shadows food and bowl, adding it to the bag.

“okay, we can go- are you sure you wanna carry him? i don’t want him to run.,” pointing to matt holding shadow like a newborn baby. “wait, let me get his kennel.”

they finally got back on the road. it was now 1:23 in the morning. the rain silenced and the streets were calm. they both hummed to the songs that played from matt’s playlist. she wouldn’t know that it was inspired by her though. she just thought it was a coincidence that all her favorite songs were on there.

“chris and nick might be asleep..” matt mentioned, opening the front door quietly. the house was dark, the only light coming from the kitchen hood.

she could tell what he was indicating. ‘nick was asleep and they shouldn’t bother him’ but what he really meant was ‘i just want you to sleep in my room.’

“that’s fine..” she replied. they made it to his bedroom, closing the door so shadow wouldn’t roam the house and bother the others.

“can i.. change real quick?” she was still in her uncomfortable work attire.

he wanted to do the same, his clothes still damp from the storm. “oh- yeah, i’ll just um- turn around..”

he wasn’t expecting her to just started stripping her clothes in front of him, but he couldn’t look away. his face displaying surprise.

she noticed after taking off her top layer, being left in a bra and panties, “what..? did i do something wrong? i mean- it’s not like you haven’t seen it before,”

“no- no! you’re right, i’m- sorry, just wasn’t expecting it..” he finally turned away to change himself.

once they were both ready, they found each other in his bed. again.

an awkward distance between the two.

“goodnight..” she spoke in the dark.

“..goodnight”

the acceptance

“oh- this looks familiar, hey y/n!” chris woke the two up, once again. “i was just coming to tell matt that we ordered food- shadow!”

this time they weren’t caught.. you know.

“alright, man- i’ll be there in a second!” matt groaned, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the sunlight.

chris let shadow out the room to let nick know his bestfriend was there. this was just a great look for her.

“y/n?! what’re you doing here? not that i’m complaining!” nick shouted too loud for the early morning.

“my car broke down in the rain last night,” she scoffed, “matt came to my rescue..”

“wow, if it was one of us, he would’ve left us stranded.” nick was joking but matt felt the tension.

“yea..”

“well, me and madi are gonna go get sushi in a few, you wanna come, y/n?” nick asked.

“i hate sushi,” she replied. “it’s okay, enjoy you’re date.”

“you suck!” nick laughed and went to his room to finish getting dressed.

the remaining three ate the breakfast that was ordered and got ready for the day. there wasn’t anything particular planned since the weather wasn’t looking too good.

they decided on staying in and hanging around the house. they played a few games since nick had left, and she used his computer. the rain outside grew heavier. the sound of thunder making her jump, along with chris barging into nicks room.

“i got bored of fortnite,” laying on nicks bed. “nick said he’s stuck at madi’s ‘cause of the storm.”

“chris! since you love shadow so much, can you go feed him?” she asked from the chair. matt came in the room confused to why they weren’t playing anymore.

“what hap-“

“we got bored,” chris got up to leave the room. “cmon kitty.”

“hey,” matt started.

“hey..”

he sucked in air between his gritted teeth. the tension was stronger than ever when they were alone. he needed to break it somehow.

“god, y/n! i can’t keep doing this- what’s up between us?!” he couldn’t hold back anymore. it was so sudden. but he felt like he had to.

she turned fully in the chair, shocked at the sudden outburst. “matt-“

“no-no, you think i’m cool with just dropping everything that happened? i mean you barley talked to me about it- all you did was ‘apologize’,” his fingers making air quotes.

“are you kidding me? matt, i did apologize, i told you what happened, and YOU,” she pointed at him, now getting up from the chair, “said everything was cool! you’re the one who agreed to being friends again-“

“shit- do you really think i meant that? how could i be friends with someone like you?” he raised his voice.

both of the bodies in the room became steaming with anger, regretful words spilling out like water. thunder clapped with each sentence that came out. they were competing with the storm at this rate.

“you know what- then don’t! we don’t have to be friends! why do you think i was avoiding you?!” the yelling they were doing hadn’t caught chris’s attention, not that either of them were worried about him. they were too focused on trying to hurt each other verbally.

“good for you! i wish you never came back!”

that was her last straw, she tried to form a sentence, but her temper got the best of her. she pushed past him and slammed open the room door.

running down the stairs, not caring about any of her things. she just wanted to be away from him.

matt instantly regretted his words seeing her storm out. he waited a second, then followed behind her. they were unintentionally stomping down the stairs, causing chris to look up from pouring cat food into a small silver bowl. he was as lost as the next guy.

she opened the front door and attempted to slam it behind her, matt holding it open for himself being hit in the process.

“y/n- where are you going?!” clutching the arm that was hit.

“why do you give a fuck? you wished i never came back remember?! so let me leave!” she was being a bit dramatic, the rain soaking her clothes and hair. it was such a beautiful yet chaotic scene. the gloomy sky being brightened with the occurring lighting.

and her in front of it all, being attacked by droplets, hurt matt more.

“can’t you see? i wouldn’t be doing all of this if i didn’t-“

“didn’t what, matt? care? love me? do you even mean it?” she started to sob, the tears mixing in with the rain. “what were you even saying that night? when i was trying to break up with kian?! like are you just trying to fuck with me, matt?”

he came from under the door, entering the storm and the battle. he was face to face with her. “no! i’m not trying anything- y/n- i fucking love you! i’ve been in love with you since i met you- i just couldn’t admit it and i’ve been hating myself ever since-“

her hands grabbed his face, pulling his lips onto hers. his arms wrapped around her waist pulling her in so their bodies were touching. the kiss wasn’t like any they shared before. the feelings were mutual this time, loving and warm despite the cold rain.

in the upstairs window, chris’s jaw was to the floor. “they were just fighting..” he spoke to shadow as if he would respond. poor shadow never got his food.

the two outside were too lovestruck in the rain to notice a car pull up, dropping nick off.

“what.. the actual fuck..”

fuck it guess we both ain’t shit🤷‍♀️

yes there will be a part four (potentially the last part!!) also thanks for all the love on the previous parts mwah 😽

tag list!! @sturnobsessedwh0re @ilovechrissturniolosposts @sturnsxbitvh @sturnsxplr-25 @sturniluvr @asimp4chris @mattspearlz @annsx03 @sarosfilms @sucretwin @little-bisexual-intern @idontknowwhyimhere33

[starrymelosblog]

Don’t wear undies when you’re sleepy

[icallhimjoey]

[bearotonin-international]

why must the snoot look like this when it is so forbidden to boop 😭😭???

[artismeyou-12]

[will80sbyers]

Does anybody know

*frame switches to Jonathan*

the dead dude's name ?

WHAT IF IT'S MY NAME INSTEAD WHAT IF YOU KILLED ME DUFFERS I GIVE YOU CONSENT TO ELIMINATE ME

[willowser]

hi yeah i'm still on about girl dad bakugou but i really love the image of him absolutely refusing to speak about her to the public.

obviously, they would know that you, as his partner, were pregnant and maybe some little stories or photos were leaked from your instagram or something, so the media knows he's having a baby, and then they know when she's born. and i can imagine someone managing to get a microphone in front of his face not long after like,

"i just wanted to congratulate you on the birth of your baby girl!"

and he doesn't say ANYTHING LOL doesn't say thanks, doesn't confirm, doesn't acknowledge it whatsoever. just stares at them, waiting for them to continue with whatever the hell they're gonna ask ajdhkfbeiakq

and i also imagine the very, very few photos that there are of her out and about, he's got her wrapped up in a blanket and he's keeping her close to his chest, his own hat pulled down over his eyes, and you can't see her face but he's just FROWNING. MAD. DOESN'T WANT PHOTOS AT ALL. IF HE SEES SOMEONE SNAPPING PICTURES, HE'S BREAKING CAMERAS.

[nervousyoungartist]

Hear me out

[counthewaysisthebest]

Is that a tv girl reference?!!

[dwaekki-bee]

PUT. THAT. DOWN.

No guitar playing 😡 stop it