#but anything i consider for too long will almost never get finished
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skitskatdacat63 · 11 months ago
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My Christmas wish is to finish all my pertinent wips 🙏
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lumibuns-blog · 1 month ago
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Ghost x Soap's roomie
Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.
its just two idiots in love at this point and also Soap and Gaz are there too lmao. I have more for this concept on my page or under the tag if you like it💪
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Dinner was finished quicker than Simon would have preferred considering he still couldn't get the image of your sly smile out of his head, not to mention the piece of food he was sure was stuck in his throat from the laughing fit you had sent him and Gaz into with your well timed nut-tap. You were intoxicating to him, it was almost insufferable how unable he was to get your voice, your face, your figure, everything, out of his head. He could swear that he's never felt this way before about anyone, ever. It was like the moment he set eyes on you, his mind had made itself up and all he could do was let himself fall even further and further in love with you.
So he now watched as you forced a very upset Soap to do the dishes, not without great effort.
"aw 'bon why tha' hell do I have'ta do this shite it's fuckin feechie" he whined
"'cause I do the cooking, that's the deal we have" you bit back "plus, I've cleaned our bathroom before" you turned to face both Simon and Kyle, Simon couldn't help but notice he was the one you locked eyes with "you wanna see nasty, use the shower when he's finished" you sighed
"oye! Not fair" Johnny warned, an accusing finger pointed towards you "you shed more than a hound when 'ure in there, ya clog the damn drain"
"excuse me! I clean up after myself at least, any hair you find in there is yours!" you yelled back, clearly embarrassed
"nae, ma' hair ain't long with split ends, er' whateva' the hell 'ure always moanin' 'bout in there"
you had half a mind to hit him across the face for that, "I don't know, hairs getting a little long there princess" you teased, gesturing to his grown out mohawk "need to get it trimmed? or you worried they might leave you looking bald again like last time?" you grinned
"awe no way!" Gaz grinned "you got pictures?" he ran over to you. Simon was curious too but didn't make a show of it, settling to sit back with his arms crossed instead, surveying the chaos.
"sure do" you beamed, ready to pull out your phone
"Naw naw!" Johnny scrambled to intercept his friend "nae happenin'"
you flung the phone behind you, out of his reach "then wash the fucking dishes man" you scoffed, shoving the sponge into his chest "thought they called you Soap for a reason?"
"feckin whatever" Johnny groaned, returning to the sink and flicking the tap on
you beamed and turned to head towards your room, calling out your dibs on the shower. Not before holding your phone up to Kyle and Simon, mouthing an 'I'll show you later' before slipping out of view.
"cheeky little mother fucker..." Soap mumbled, the half smile on his face turning into a look of disgust as he touched some wet food.
"so...." Gaz started after a moment "Never did decide where we 'going to be sleepin' mate?"
"well 've only got two beds" Johnny said, back turned to his friends "an' mine can only fit one a you's plus ma'self" he continued "an' like -ell I'm not going to sleepin on 'ma own bed while 'm home , so one ya will have-tae take the couch" he paused "unless the other one wants to bunk up with 'er" he laughed
Simon froze simply at the idea, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable in his slacks at the thought of being right up next to you while you rested. If you were closer would be be able to put his hands of you? trace the contours of your waist with his finger tips, burry his nose in the back of your head and wrap his hulking arms around your smaller figure? Feel the curve of your ass as you pressed against-
he bit the inside of his cheek and gripped the counter top so hard his knuckles turned white, "I'll take the couch" he huffed "'ure smaller anyway" he gestured to Kyle
"Whateva' mate" Gaz rolled his eyes, taking his friends jab in stride.
You had claimed dibs of the shower first because you were well aware that three, probably filthy, men (all of which had to be over 6 feet) were bound to need to use it as well and it would be pointless to try and wash your hair after that disaster.
"I'm done!" you called absentmindedly from the hallway, a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair sticking to your neck and back. Simon had found a very interesting part of the ceiling to focus on while you went back to your room, "try to not blow the thing up, I've got a down payment on this thing" you said, closing the door behind you.
silence fell over the room once again, as all three men glanced between themselves. Gaz was first, he took off at a run towards the bathroom door, determined to be second. Soap started off not more then a moment after him,
"aye ya prick, it's my house this?!" he grabbed for Gaz who held on steady to the door
"exactly mate! we're the guests!" Kyle chided "so be a good host 'an bugger off!"
"Nae 'm not lettin' you's skimp me outta a hot shower" Soap yelled attempting to pull Gaz back, but the man had such a a tight hold on the door he might've pulled out the hinges first.
you reopened the door after hearing the chaos, still in only a towel "the hell is-?" you were cut off almost immediately by ghost stepping in, he grabbed them both by the back collars of their shirts with what seemed like minimal effort, and pulled them off each other.
"Gaz you go first," he growled "Johnny, at least finish drying the bloody dishes before you go runnin' off" he shoved your roommate back into the kitchen
"Lt.! 's no fair he's goin' first! Why do you get to decide?" Soap griped
"on base 'er not, 'm still in charge." Simon said plainly, narrowing his eyes towards his friend, "just be lucky I'm the one yellin' at you for tusslin' around inside"
"In 'ma own home!" Johnny threw his hands up in defeat as Gaz pumped his fist before closing the bathroom door.
for a moment, your eyes met Simon's as you peaked from behind your door and they lingered there. His gaze was so was piercing as he glared from above his mask, that he had (unfortunately) put back in after dinner. His eyes only remained that way for a moment however, for as soon as they met yours, they softened. The harsh lines fell away instantly and his pupils began to dilate when they met yours, not aware you had been watching the whole ordeal.
'why did his eyes have to be so pretty?'
He coughed quickly, tearing his gaze from you before returning to the kitchen himself. Leaving you awe struck, fanning your face behind the closed door of your room.
When it was finally time for him to take a shower, Simon allowed himself a moment of respite in the bathroom before actually cleaning himself off. Away from Johnny's teasing glances and their incessant banter that he hated to admit he had come to be too fond of to reprimand them for, and they knew that all to well. Above all else though, it was a moment to internally process seeing you in nothing but a towel because when he had tried to think it over out there, the evidence of that was all too noticeable. You had looked so fucking good, wet hair, glossy skin, that towel that did absolutely nothing to cover up the swell of your tits as you pressed it to your chest. Even the simple fact that your cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower sent his whole body into overdrive.
'shit- right, the shower.'
He broke from his thoughts to finally enter the shower but that did nothing to aid him in his situation. On the ledge was your shampoo and various other soaps, much like how your side of the sink was covered in various products and bottles he couldn't name even if he tried. Johnny's side had a toothbrush that was joined by Gaz's wash bag, and that was it. In the shower however, he only saw what were clearly your products. He grumbled and opened the door just a crack,
"Either 'a you got any shower gel?" He yelled through the crack, rather embarrassed at his current situation, "lef' mine at base."
"jus' use 'er's!" Johnny called back from his spot on the couch "'s what I do anyway..."
"You what?!" you yelled from across the flat
"dumbass" Kyle scoffed
"kidding, kidding!" Johnny laughed "Mines the one with the green lid mate, ya don' see it?"
"Fuckin hell...neva'mind!" Ghost responded, closing the door again. He swore he wasn't seeing straight. It didn't help that the whole bathroom already smelt like you, your intoxicating scent invading every breath he took. But to use your products? That was some shit couples do, and he had to stop his mind from getting away from him with that fantasy.
Stepping into the shower once more he located Johnny's soap. Spring rain?, no fucking wonder he hadn't noticed it, who would've thought Soap would use something like this? He quickly washed himself and got dressed, rubbing his hair dry with a towel as he exited the bathroom.
You stood in the kitchen, a large sweatshirt dwarfed your frame. You seemed to be waiting for the kettle of the stove to heat up as you noticed his presence.
"oh I can take that" you smiled, walking over to him and holding out your hand to take his towel from him.
He very reluctantly gave it to you, worried it would smell bad or have something gross on it he hadn't even realized. "was just about to start another lode anyway" you chimed, opening up the closet door and throwing it in the machine before starting it.
Simon couldn't help himself "Colors I'm assuming?" he joked
you whipped around to face him "Now don't you start" you scolded, but the smile and deep red of your cheeks was unmistakable, "Johnny's enough to deal with on his own" you headed back to your kettle
"'m sorry, I'll try to be less of a pain in the arse to ya than he is" Simon chuckled
"that's a low bar" you laughed dully "but thank you"
Simon found conversation to flow freely with you, like it does with the rest of his team but only after he had gotten close to them. He had only known you for a day but still found it so natural to speak to you (if he ignored the deafening sound of his heartbeat and the massive lump in his throat).
"want any tea?" your offer broke the silence as you grinned and held up the now boiling kettle.
"uh- sure" he nodded, was his heart getting louder?
you tossed open one of the cupboards "pick your poison" you chirped, gesturing the stocked shelf of teas.
he rounded the island to inspect the selection, peering over you in such a way that his form eclipsed yours and forced you to move back against the counter top. You held your breath.
"'ere" he handed a small tin containing a non-caffeinated herbal blend down to you and stepped away "is it any good?" he asked, pointing lazily at the tin that you now held.
you tried to shrug your flustered feelings away "Better be, 's what I'm having" you turned to grab him a mug from the shelf.
Simon smiled to himself at the knowledge he picked the same type of tea as you purely by coincidence. Moments later you were handing it to him, "here ya go Ghost" you said placing the hot mug in front of him
"Simon." he responded plainly
"Hm?" you tilted your head a bit
"Simon's fine, ya don't need to be calling me that 'Ghost' shit 'ere" he was staring holes into the kitchen island, wondering if it was weird for him to be asking you to call him by his given name.
"Alright, Simon it is then" you beamed, not missing a beat
christ his name sounded so good when you said it
"sorry guess it was just habit, seeing as thats what Johnny calls you whenever he's home"
"'s fine" he mumbled, a brief pause hung in the air as you both took your first sips of tea. You were right, it was good.
"where they at anyway?" Simon tried to fill the silence
"probably giggling under the covers by now" you scoffed "why? trying to get rid of me?" you joked
"'s not it" Simon answered quickly
"I know I know- I'm just teasing" you smirk "Johnny told me you were a bit quiet so don't feel pressured to talk 'er anything"
He appreciated the sentiment, but not talking to you was possibly the last thing he wanted to do right now. "What else does the little twat say?" Simon asked, a little gruffer than he intended to sound, but his reputation was on the line here.
"Oh just stories from all the dangerous stuff you all get up to, usually the ones where he can say he was the hero" you fully laughed and it sounded like music to Simon's ears "That and he complains about all the work he has to do, usually when he wants to get out of chores"
"sounds 'bout right" Simon smiled lightly and you could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
At least you didn't think he was some sulking, menacing, edge-lord. I mean he most certainly was most times but he would really prefer it if you didn't think of him like that. Now he just had one more thing to clear up.
"jus' so ya know... I- I didn't use your body wash" he practically had to shove the words out of his mouth he was so tense, but to his surprise you just laughed.
You smiled brightly and waved your hand dismissively, "Don't worry I didn't think you had, I don't blame you for not finding his soap though" you held your mug close to your chest and smiled fondly "He used to use that Head and Shoulder's stuff, you know the one? Anyway, it was nasty so I got him some better stuff and he actually likes it, even if he complains he smells 'like a chick' now" you put that last part in air quotes.
"fair", the soap Simon used on base was Head and Shoulder's. He made a mental note to throw it out and get better stuff the second he got back.
Conversation flowed freely for the next couple minutes as you both finished your drinks, you mostly asked about what it was like living on a military base and he asked about a bit about your graduate studies. Happy just to learn anything about you. When you set your empty mug down on the kitchen counter, he silently glided over with his own and took your mug in his other hand, filling them with water in the sink.
"you really don't have to do that, but thank you" you smiled softly, a yawn escaped you, feeling the tiredness begin to catch up with you.
"don't mind it" he dried his hands off with the kitchen towel. When he looked back at you his heart swelled. you were smiling lightly in the dimly lit kitchen, eyes squinting from even that being too much light. You swayed back and forth slowly, heading nodding slightly every couple of moments. He felt bad for keeping you up but more than that he wished he could just pick you up and whisk you off to bed, curling up next you you and letting you snuggle into his chest. But there was no way he could do something like that, not now anyway, so he settled for the next option
"you look like you're about to fall over love, off to bed now" he said, his voice quiet and gentle as patted you on the back and steered you towards your room.
"aye aye captain" you lazily saluted him and he couldn't help but smile "let me know if ya need anything" you called from the hall "night!"
"yeah g'night" he groaned, shoving himself onto the couch that was much too small for him. He would rather freeze than make you get up to get him another blanket or something. And even though he felt perfectly comfortable he couldn't seem to get to sleep, his heart was just too loud.
*I might make Price come over to give the boys something they left behind just so he can meet/flirt with reader and Simon and get all grumpy and jealous cuz it would be cute <3
Tags:
@sleep101 @urbimom @noisydelusionlove @plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis @jenlvr01 @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno @nina-from-317 @strawberrygateau @leryg0 @weemansoap @dreamtofus @imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona
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Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.
I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.
Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.
Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.
Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-
Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.
He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.
Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.
The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.
“OH MY GOD DANNY!”
“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”
“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”
When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.
Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.
“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”
He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”
“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.
As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.
“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.
“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”
And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.
“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.
“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.
It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.
And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”
Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.
Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.
Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.
Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.
Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.
With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.
They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.
Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.
“Quickly you two need to go!”
Another shot.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.
Two more shots.
“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.
Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.
But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.
Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.
So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.
They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.
But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.
That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.
That is, until now.
Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.
“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”
“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”
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yzzart · 1 year ago
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Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x
"An unplanned situation."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader
summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.
word count: 1.359!
notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!
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"Y/N, look here!"
Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.
However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.
Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.
You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.
And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.
Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.
You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.
They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.
And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.
Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.
As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.
"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"
Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.
Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.
"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.
You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.
And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.
"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.
Again, a thing and situation you were used to.
"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.
At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.
Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.
Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.
For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.
When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.
Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.
You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.
"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.
They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.
"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.
And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.
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mariespen · 9 months ago
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Who? ˳༄꠶
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jealous!Rafe Cameron x fem!Reader ༄꠶ summary: “No way am I sending my girl on a study date with another man." warnings: very very mild sexual concepts, jealous Rafe
based on this request!
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
Rafe Cameron was looking right at you with a death glare, the kind of look you’d pin on horrible people who were only doing horrible things. You’d think your boyfriend would understand that being in college requires unavoidable group work, which leads to unavoidable conversations with people you would much rather not know at all. Naturally, you were wrong. Devastatingly wrong.
“I don’t get it.” He said plainly for the fifteenth time that night, “You don’t even need this class if I’m honest.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to focus more on packing your things rather than the hole he was staring into your back.
“Don’t do that shit.. c’mon baby..” Rafe said, getting up to stand closer to you, a persuading hand on your hip, “M’working so hard to give you a life where you don’t gotta work and-“
“Rafe, we’ve talked about this too many times.” You cut him off in hopes to finally shut him up.
“Well why don’t we talk about it again,” He said, a tiny smile on his face, “Like right now? Over dinner?”
“Baby you know that my group members will kill me if I don’t pull through.” You shrugged past him, walking to put your shoes on.
You weren’t wearing anything near special. Sweatpants and one of Rafe’s oversized hoodies were all that you were planning on showing off. But in Rafe’s eyes, HE would fuck you in that, so who’s to say that no one else would? Naturally, he carries a heavy bias considering that Rafe would fuck you in anything, but he says ‘that’s not the point.’
“So what, you’re gonna spend all night with people you don’t even like?” He asked with a scoff.
You gave him an annoyed nod, trying to prove your point.
“That’s gotta be like.. bad for your uh.. mental health. You should stay in.”
“Rafe stop-“ You started before getting a ping on your phone. You groaned to finish the sentence, storming off to get your shoes on.
“What?” Rafe called after you, quietly shuffling behind before picking your phone up and looking at the recent notifications.
Connor: When r u getting here?
“Who’s this?” Rafe asked, pointing to the phone with a look of pure hatred in his eyes.
“One of my group members, love.” You said, trying to stifle a giggle over how protective he was over you.
“Another man? Absolutely not,” He said, turning away from you to block the door out of your shared apartment before continuing his rant, “No way am I sending my girl on a study date with another man. Who do you think-“
You pushed past him, backpack already slung over your shoulders as you made your escape to the front door.
“Nope.” He said plainly, grabbing the back of your bag and making you look at him, his fingers tracing your jaw and holding your eyes to his.
“Rafe..” You whined, but his touch was strict.
“You’re mine, baby. Not Connor’s, a’ight?” He said, brushing hair from your face.
“I’m yours.” You repeated, standing on your tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
His eyes softened and he thought he got you wrapped around his finger, pulling away to look at your flushed face. Instead, you darted to the door when his touch weakened, hand on the knob before Rafe could get another word in.
“Love you!” You said, closing it before everything caught up to him.
The group work went fine and almost exactly like you thought. A long session and a gut wrenching feeling of exhaustion afterwards. It’s never your favorite event but there were worse things that could happen. Things like walking back into your apartment after narrowly escaping your boyfriend’s possessive hand. 
You opened the door quietly, which was already unnecessary. Of course he was still wide awake, waiting for you like a father punishing his daughter for sneaking out. He was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and scowling at you.
“What the fuck?” He asked, getting up to meet you at the front door.
You shoved your shoes off, setting down your backpack and walking closer to Rafe. “M’tired baby..” You said, making every attempt to walk past the intimidating block he made in the hallway.
“No, no no.. this isn’t how it’s gonna work,” Rafe said, using both of his hands to hold your shoulders and forcing you to stand right in front of him as he lowered his voice, “Can’t just do that baby.. a’ight?”
“Sorry..” You whispered, breaking free of his hold on your shoulders and instead pulling yourself into him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.
You could feel the slightly annoyed laugh that bubbled from him, but you could also feel the chaste kiss that he left on the top of your head. Rafe’s soft spot for you would always shine through his anger. You let yourself melt into his arms while you contemplated falling asleep standing.
“C’mon..” He whispered into you, equally as tired from staying up and waiting for you to come back to him.
You felt him pick you up cautiously, kissing your cheek as you let your eyes start to close.
——————————————————————
The next morning was a beautiful Saturday, which of course was the day you woke up to about 15 messages from your project’s group chat. Somehow you managed to squirm away from Rafe’s death grip over your body to check your phone. Casual conversations relating to different parts of the project and other things that you wanted nothing to do with flashed across the screen.
Over your shoulder you heard Rafe groan and felt him reach for where you weren’t. He looked around for you, watching groggily as you typed out a response on your phone.
“Baby..” He trailed off, rubbing his eyes.
“Sorry.. group project.” You whispered, giving in and letting yourself melt back into his arms.
“At 9 in the morning?” Rafe mumbled into you, an annoyed sigh died in his throat when you ran your fingers through his hair.
Sleep clouded your mind as the two of you held each other close again. He wasn’t trying to show it, but his possessiveness and jealousy were leaking out of him like a faucet.
“G’morning princess..” You heard Rafe whisper from above you, brushing the lazy hair from your cheeks.
You groaned and shifted, trying to find the warmth in the bed now that Rafe had gotten up.
“Let’s get lunch, hm?” He asked, gently moving you to face him again.
You nodded, trying to nod away the urge to dive back under the blankets.
Getting ready wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, just because Rafe had already bought you the perfect outfit and you didn’t have to fight off your hair as much as you normally did. Whenever you got ready, Rafe would always finish before you and sit on the edge of the bed, admiring your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks would flush up and you could never get your blush right anymore because he somehow always had your face a pink shade of red.
Rafe grabbed your bag for you, a small purse that fit your pretty dress. He also went to get your phone from its shameful place at the bedside table because of course you had forgotten to charge it last night.
One text had lit up your screen and his eyes narrowed the moment he saw it was from Connor.
“Baby, why is Connor texting you?” He asked, walking to your spot in the bathroom and shoving the phone in your face to quickly get your attention.
You took the phone, opening the notification while Rafe watched from over your shoulder.
Connor: Hey, I have some ideas for the paper. You want to meet up to talk? I was thinking a Cafe or something.
You could feel the angry red heat of jealousy seeping out of Rafe’s body.
“I told you.” He said, taking the phone from you and staring at the message again, almost dumbfounded at Connor’s audacity.
“M’not going.” You said plainly, looking at him with a lightly apologetic look.
“Damn right you’re not.” He replied, throwing your phone onto the bed and looking at you with an angry glare staring down at your face.
You watched an idea form in his head. It was easily not anything good considering the way his lips turned up in a thin smile and his gaze moved between you and the phone in a heartbeat.
“Y’know.. I really don’t want my girl missn’ anything..” He trailed off, walking to where he threw your phone originally.
“Rafe..” You tried to protest, not fully understanding where his head was at.
“No.. I think I gotta be a good boyfriend here.” He nodded to himself before looking at you with an unforgettable smirk.
“Baby I don’t want to go.” You said, walking up to him and trying to read his cocky expression.
“You, go?” He asked with faux confusion, cocking his head to the side, “No no, you’ve got it all wrong.” 
Rafe stood up, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles before looking back down at you. Now it was your turn to be confused, furrowing your eyebrows.
“You think I’m stupid, baby?” He mocks, kissing your up jaw and stopping by your ear, “M’gonna go in for you.”
Whatever hint of a smile you had on your face slowly disappeared as realization dawned on you.
“I think I’ll text him right now and let him know I’m on my way. Give him a nice surprise when he realizes it’s not the pretty little girl that he wants.” Rafe said slyly, pulling back with a malicious smile.
“Then he and I can really talk, hm?”
The next day, Connor dropped the class.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
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hellsitegenetics · 9 months ago
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WARNINGS / FAQ / REQUESTS
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keikikait · 1 month ago
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ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
read my other rafe series here!
pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader (not au, both are early to mid 20's)
word count: 3k
summary: you're his safe space after stressful days in the outer banks
warnings: friends with benefits, light angst, no outright smut but it's mentioned/suggestive so read at your own risk, cheating??, i promise i don't actually hate sofia, i haven't finished s4 yet so i don't know everything, pining, soft rafe comes out for like four seconds, not proofread
a note: this is my first fic for outer banks! i don't think i slayed with this...
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
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Ever since Rafe met you a year ago, he’s gone to you after everything.
Whenever he’s angry, or stressed, or feeling downright homicidal, he comes to you. He knocks three times on your apartment door before you let him in, pulling him into your arms. Sometimes he doesn’t even knock the third time before you’re throwing the door open and grabbing his hand. It’s almost as if he steps into a portal into another dimension with the way he immediately relaxes in your presence, everything rolling off of his shoulders as he wraps his arms around you. You’re always so soft, and you always smell so good, like that expensive perfume he got you for your birthday.
You’ll hold him for as long as he needs, rubbing his back and lightly scratching his scalp with your nails, it’s the least you could do considering he pays for them every time. He just has one rule. You can’t kiss him. And it’s so hard not to. It’s hard not to grab him and kiss him while he’s thrusting into you, hand on your throat. It’s hard not to kiss him when he rushes inside your apartment, angry tears in his eyes with blood on his knuckles after losing his temper on someone. 
You spend most of your nights waiting for him. Sometimes you stay up all night, waiting for those three little knocks. You spend most of the time asleep on your sofa, hoping he would come to you instead of her. 
Sofia.
At first, he told you Sofia was just a friend, which turned into a friends with benefits. He told you there wasn’t anything serious going on, and that she was just a girl he kept around when he was bored, that she was good for his ever decaying image in the Outer Banks. And you believed him. You fucking believed him. There was a little part of you that wanted to occupy his brain, be the only living space in his head. And when he’s filling up his lungs with a cigarette or some weed he bummed off of Kelce, you wanted to be the only name that’s under his breath. 
You didn’t know the truth until you saw her Instagram post. Her account was private, but you managed to get your follow request approved on your burner account. You spent far too much time scrolling through her never-ending posts and stories, looking for a glimpse of him. You had decided to check her account while eating your breakfast this morning, the spoon clattering out of your hand when you saw her newest post.
It was a photo of her and Rafe, lounging in his new house, with the caption; ‘Soft launching an almost year-long relationship. Happy 8 months, baby!’
Your oatmeal was shortly discarded. You crawled back into your bed, cancelled all of your plans, and decided to hide away from the world until you got over him. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
It was almost 10 PM when you heard the three little knocks.
Rafe stands on the other side, hands shaking slightly. What was taking you so long? He bangs twice more before you finally open the door. 
You hold the door open just wide enough so he can see you, keeping your hand firmly on the doorknob. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He doesn’t sound like his usual self. He sounds drained, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a hoodie, a gold chain around his neck that glitters in the light. It feels like forever before he speaks again, eyes not meeting yours. “Can I come in?”
You should say no. You should turn him away. You were the other woman, after all.
But you let him in, stepping aside, biting the inside of your lip.
Rafe sighs, relieved. He really didn’t want to stay somewhere else tonight. Quietly, he slips past you, going straight for your sofa. He plops himself down, immediately kicking his shoes off and burying his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. You shut the door and lock it, hesitating before walking over to him, standing next to the sofa. You almost move to sit next to him, nervously picking at the skin around your thumbnails.
He doesn’t notice you hovering over him, too lost in his own head. He looks like a complete mess. Rafe is usually so put together, always straightening his hair until it’s just right and tugging on the sleeve of his designer sweatshirt if it’s even a centimeter out of place.
“You okay?” You eventually say, and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have even let him in.
“What do you think?” His tone is bitter, but you can tell there’s no real bite behind it. He still refuses to look up, his fingers lacing together and gripping his hair almost painfully.
“Don’t do that.” You immediately say, reaching out and grabbing his fingers. “Don’t rip your hair out.”
He flinches for a moment, not expecting you to touch him. He glances up at you, his gaze meeting yours for a second before he looks away again, his shoulders slumping a little as all the fight leaves his body. Rafe doesn’t pull his hands away, instead he just moves them out of his hair, allowing you to hold his hands.
He looks so disheveled it almost hurts.
You sit down, continuing to hold his hands. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t respond at first. Instead, his thumb brushes against yours, absentmindedly. “We got into a fight. Me and Sofia.” He admits quietly. It shouldn’t make your heart leap into your throat, but it does. You shouldn’t be happy that he and his awful girlfriend are fighting.
“I’m sorry.” You say, brushing your thumbs over the back of his hands.
He sighs heavily, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. “It just… It didn’t use to be like this, y’know? We were just friends, and we were just messing around.” His tone is bitter, almost annoyed. “Now she wants me to be her boyfriend and everything is… different. And I don’t like it.”
Your eyes widen ever so slightly. At that moment you feel a glimmer of hope, that maybe he didn’t want to date Sofia, and that he actually wanted to be with you. “What happened?”
Rafe closes his eyes as he tilts his head towards the ceiling, like it’ll help him remember. “She was nagging me all day. Nag nag nag. I was trying to work, she wanted to go on a date.” He pauses just for a second to take a deep breath, his brow furrowing slightly when he releases it. “She started being a brat. ‘Oh, but you always make time for her!’” He says the last part in a high-pitched mocking tone.
“You can talk to me, if you want.” You slide your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. “You’re always welcome here.”
Rafe stares at your interlocked hands, biting the inside of his lip. He hesitates for a second before giving your hand a small squeeze. “I told her I didn’t feel like going on some stupid date, and she started acting like a baby. She said… she said if I wasn’t going to act like a boyfriend, I shouldn’t get to have all the benefits of having a girlfriend.” He says the last part with a scoff, anger making its way into his voice again.
You squeeze his hand. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
Rafe finally looks back at you, his brow furrowing again. “Yeah. I don’t want to be home with her right now.” You didn’t know they lived together.
You hope it means as much to him as it does to you that he’s staying here. 
You lead him into your bedroom, pulling out the spare clothes that he keeps here. He changes in front of you, as he always does, and you have to stop yourself from staring. Part of you feels guilty for letting him stay here while his girlfriend was at home, waiting up for him.
You start to overthink. You want Rafe here. You don’t want him to go home, especially not to her. But you don’t want to be the other woman, you don’t want to make an enemy out of Sofia. “Rafe, maybe you should--” You start to say before he suddenly grabs you, throwing you onto your bed and climbing on top of you.
“Don’t.” He interrupts you, pinning your wrists to the mattress as he moves in to lay between your legs. He looks down at you, his brow still furrowed. “I don’t want to talk about her or hear her name. I just want to forget about her.” He leans down towards your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. “I need you.”
“You have me.” You say softly.
He shakes his head. Something in him shifts as he starts tugging on your shirt, trying to pull it off of you. He seems desperate, desperate for you and to feel your skin against his. “You don’t get it.”
You lift your arms so he can pull your t-shirt off. “You need me, Rafe, and I’m here. I’m always here.” Your expression falls, growing slightly worried as you see his eyes turn red, tears starting to well up.
Rafe shakes his head, the motion almost desperate.  “No,” he answers, his fingers tracing the soft skin around your ribs. “I need you. I need you in a way that I’ve never needed anyone before. I need to be so close to you that we’re a single being. I need my skin against yours with no boundaries between us. I need—”. He slowly pushes you onto your back, moving to hover over you as his hands continue to roam, moving to caress your sides and hips. “I need to feel you against me,” he whispers. “I need your skin on mine until there’s no way to know where you begin, and I end.”
You’ve never wanted to kiss him so bad. You reach up and cup his face, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "You have me, honey. In every way you want. I'll always be here."
He presses his face against your palm, closing his eyes and nuzzling into your touch, chasing after the gentle sensation of your hands against his skin. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as his eyes open again to meet yours. He presses closer against you, his forehead dropping to rest in the crook of your neck. He lets out a shaky breath. “Baby,” he whispers, voice cracking slightly before he stops, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he tries to hold himself together.
“What?” You ask softly, your hand moving up behind his head.
“I… I can’t take this anymore.” Rafe presses himself even closer against you, his entire torso pressing against yours as his arms wrap around your middle, his fingers tracing the skin of your back. “Sofia.” He says her name like it’s a curse, his grip on you tightening. “She’s controlling and clingy and demanding. I have to go where she wants, do everything she wants, and I can’t say no to anything, or she throws a tantrum. I hate it.”
“Don’t think about her.” You say softly into his ear, rubbing the back of his neck with your thumb. “She’s not here. I am.” 
“I know,” he whispers, and the words come out so close to him moaning that it sends little sparks directly to your core. “God, I know. You’re all I can think about. You’ve been all I can think about since I met you.” 
A moment of silence passes between you, only the sound of his ragged breathing filling the room until he speaks again, sounding more desperate this time. “Kiss me, please.”
Your eyes widen, your heart almost stopping. “What? But Rafe, you told me I couldn’t.”
“I don’t care.” His voice is firm, his hand moving up from your back to cup your cheek, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes are dark, the deep blue practically black in the low light of the room.  “Please. I need to feel something that isn’t her against me. I need to feel you. Kiss me, please, kiss me, please—” His words break into a desperate plea, his hand pressing against the skin of your back almost frantically.
He sounds so desperate, it makes your heart ache.
You cup his cheeks and kiss him, going softly at first.
Rafe immediately melts into your touch, his entire body relaxing in response. His hands start to roam again, his fingertips tracing the curve of your waist, the skin on the underside of your thighs, the flesh of your back. He can’t stay still, touching every inch of you that his hands can reach as he kisses you like the taste of your mouth is the only thing that will save him from drowning. His tongue swipes along your bottom lip, begging you to give him more as he pushes your legs open. He grinds himself against you, reaching down to pull your panties off. He pulls away before ripping the soft purple cotton in half, shoving the remnants into his pocket. He sits up on his knees, tugging his sweatpants down, smirking at you when your eyes linger on his bulge.
He tugs his boxers down and goes to climb on top of you again when you stop him. “Condom, Rafe.”
That stops him in his tracks, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks turning pink as he looks down at you. “I didn’t—“ He swallows hard, his throat bobbing obviously as he looks almost guilty. “I didn’t bring one.”
“Dresser.” You say. “Top drawer, by the socks. Big box of ‘em.”
He immediately scrambles off of the bed, his fingers trembling slightly as he pulls open the drawer, digging through it before finding the box. He picks up the box, his fingers drumming against the lid for a moment before popping it open. He glances at you as he pulls one out, tossing the box onto the floor next to a discarded sock without bothering to shut the lid. “How often do you bring guys back here?” He asks, more accusatory than he intended for it to be.
“Not for other guys.” You say. “You just never bring any.”
“Oh.” He seems to relax a little at that answer, swallowing hard and looking almost sheepish as he turns around, holding it up between two fingers.
He looks so handsome walking over to you, now.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
Rafe fucks you so good, you almost tell him you love him.
Your legs are still shaky the next morning as you make your way around your kitchen, preparing some breakfast. You hear him padding through your apartment before coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his chest against your back. You lean against him as you cook, reaching up with your free hand to cup his cheek.
You sit in comfortable silence.
Until Rafe’s phone dings.
He sighs, pulling it out of his pocket. He opens the message and reads it, chewing on his bottom lip.
“Something wrong?” You ask.
“It’s Sofia.” He says.
You tighten your grip on your spatula. “Is it?”
“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, kissing the back of your head. “I gotta go home. I promised her a brunch date on the mainland.”
You freeze, but just for a second. “You’re going back to her? Even after what we talked about yesterday?” You turn the stove top off and set your spatula down, turning to face him.
“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend.” Rafe says.
You’re speechless. Were you being delusional last night? Did you dream it all? “But… I thought you said that you didn’t like being her boyfriend.”
“I don’t.” Rafe says, sighing. He tilts his head slightly. “She’s good for appearances, for my reputation.”
“But you don’t need her to have a good reputation.” You argue. “Just try to not fight every Pogue you see, and your reputation will skyrocket.” 
“You don’t get it, baby.” Rafe says, starting to get defensive. “I need her. Whether you like it or not, I need to play pretend with her.”
“But is it worth it?” You ask. “Is it worth being unhappy?”
“I’m always unhappy!” Rafe says. “I’m kinda used to it, sweetheart.”
You scoff. “Are you unhappy with me?”
“No, of course not.” Rafe says quickly. “Don’t be stupid.”
You sigh. “Rafe, I just don’t understand your reasoning.”
“It’s just for appearances.” Rafe says. He can feel himself getting angrier and angrier, but he has to hold himself back, stop himself from snapping at you. He reaches up and tugs on his hair again. “God, what do you want from me? What do you want me to do, huh?”
You suck in a short breath. You haven’t seen Rafe angry in so long, you almost forgot what it was like. “All I wanted was you.”
Rafe purses his lips, looking away. He takes a shaky deep breath, counting to four before releasing, a trick you taught him. He takes a step towards you, watching you flinch slightly. “No, don’t…don’t flinch, baby. You know I’m not gonna do anything.” He reaches out, cupping the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before pulling you closer. He kisses your forehead before sighing, leaving his lips against your skin.
“It’s just for appearances.” He whispers. “I promise.” He kisses your forehead again before pulling away, cupping your face. “I’ll be back tonight, okay? Please promise me you’ll stay up.”
You nod.
Rafe sighs, lightly squishing your cheeks, his voice low and soft. “Words, sweet girl.”
You shiver, leaning closer. “I promise I’ll stay up.”
“Good girl.” His voice is almost a whisper as he pulls you closer, kissing your forehead yet again. “I’ll be back soon.”
He leaves as quickly as he entered, shutting the door behind you.
You let out a shaky breath before turning the stove top back on and continuing to cook.
You were going to stay up. You would be stupid not to.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
let me know what you think!
part two is here!
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amyispxnk · 7 months ago
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Grease and sweat
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Summary - Another day, another venture out of the walls of the Boston QZ with Joel Miller. AKA, another day spent fantasizing about the burly man whom you spend most of your time with these days. When the two of you have to hole up for the night, things get a little heated, and you finally snap.
A/N: i started this oneshot like 6 months ago and finally found some random motivation today to finish it. and im not gonna spoil anything but like.. why has noone talked about this in a fic before? im literally salivating when he does this during the game and like.. yeah. idk. you’ll see.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: SMUT!! (oral f!receiving, unprotected PiV sex - don’t do this, especially during an apocalypse!, mentions of masturbation, lewd thoughts), language, age gap (roughly 15 years), firearms, pet names, fluff, aftercare
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“The fuck’re you lookin’ at, kid?” Joel practically spat, having noticed the way you were eyeing him whilst he worked.
You scoffed, walking up to the workbench he was currently using. Kid. You weren’t a kid. Sure, you were almost 15 years younger than him, but you certainly weren’t a kid.
“I’m 34, Joel. Not a kid.” You argued, leaning on the wall and watching him work.
He just grunted in response before resuming what he was doing before, starting with cleaning his pistol.
His fingers danced along the metal, digging into certain bits with the old rag he used to get any grime out, before he used the screwdriver to make a few adjustments to the handgun.
You never really understood how to do all the fancy things he did with his weapons, and you probably should considering how intently you watched him whenever the pair of you came across one of these old benches - but you couldn’t focus on the guns which were in his hands. His big, strong, rough hands. You’d trade places with those guns just to feel his hands on you like that. He took so much care of the damn things too, like they were the most precious things in his life. Always cleaning and repairing them like this, practically never letting you touch them.. What did those guns have that you didn’t? You thought to yourself as you watched him, gaze drifting to his fingers in particular. The ones you’d dreamt about far too many times, the ones you’d imagined inside of yourself rather than your own when you touched yourself. It was the way they moved, how thick they were, and how the veins in his hands and muscles flexed when he gripped his bow, and the way his arms would shine with his sweat as he worked. You’d lick the sweat off his body if he asked you to. Depraved as it sounds.
Not that you’d ever admit it.
Your absolutely maddening desire for and sickening crush on the man whom you knew close to nothing about. Just his name and a few things he revealed to you when the night was particularly long or the whisky he was having took a toll on his judgement, loosening him up for once. You knew where he was from, what his job was before, and you knew that he was basically just a grumpy old asshole who was only good for beating up guys when you went on supply runs.
He had never been overly kind to you, not that you needed it, had never asked you any questions, didn’t make small talk, and was a ruthless murderer.
You loved every single thing about him.
And you wanted to show him. You wanted him to love you back, no matter how he’d love you. You wouldn’t mind if he was a cold lover, a mean one - hell, he almost definitely was - you’d take him any way you could get him.
You looked back at his hands once more, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when he had to use his ring and middle fingers to clean out part of another gun, your thighs clenching together as you felt the all-too-familiar wetness start to form between them and making you groan when you realised you’d probably have to rub one out when you got back later. It was honestly annoying the amount of times you came by your own hand, his name on your lips, because you knew how much better it would feel if it was his thick fingers pushing into you, his big hands palming your breasts, his strong arms holding you down as he made you come over and over…
“Let’s get goin’.” He says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he tucks his gun away and slings his backpack on.
You push yourself off of the wall and follow him quickly, trying not to look flustered although you very much felt it.
He came to an abrupt stop when you reached your normal exit from this little pitstop en route to the guys who gave you weapons, and you almost walked face-first into his back.
“Joel? Wha-” you began, but he cut you off.
“This shouldn’t be closed.” He murmurs, like he’s talking to himself, not allowing you any time to respond before he’s going over to pull the chain which should open the garage door.
It doesn’t.
No matter how much he pulls on the metal, grunting and groaning and making your eyes flutter shut whilst you force your needy whimpers down with the noises he’s making, it barely opens, slamming shut every time he gets close to getting it open a quarter of the way.
“Fuck.” He grits, giving up and slamming his hand against the thing. It would be no use trying with that door anymore, the noise it was making was getting too loud anyway.
He stands there, clearly thinking hard about what to do. You can’t turn back because that would just lead you straight back to the QZ, which was useless to you right now, but you don’t have any other secured ways to get to your vendors - how could he have been so stupid to not plan ahead, he ridicules himself silently.
“Joel? What’s the plan?” You ask, getting slightly impatient with his constant silence. He may have been this hot brooding older man, but he could really leave you in the dark sometimes like this.
“Will you let me think, goddamnit?” He responds, clearly annoyed with your current predicament, scratching at his jaw before looking back up at you.
“Could try that window.” You suggest quietly, looking upwards. It was high and small, but you’d be able to get through it if he gave you a boost up.
He gave you a small nod before you both made your way up there and he got into position, hands outstretched and placed together as you got on and pushed yourself up. Normally, whenever he did this, you’d feel all dizzy afterwards from the proximity and his touch - but as soon as you looked out the window you were horrified. There were infected, just past the jammed door - and a whole lot of them. You weren’t getting past that. Forget the deal, you’d come back another day.
“Joel.” You say, not even realising you were whispering. He doesn’t answer.
“Joel! Joel, get me down.” You whisper-shout, and he furrows his brows.
“Why? What’s the matter?” He asks, and you have to fight against the urge to roll your eyes.
“Just get me down.” You say through clenched teeth, taking another look outside the window before he carefully lowers you. Of course, he boosts you up regularly, but he rarely ever tries to get you back down, so you stumble a bit and end up with your face against his chest as he falls back onto the wall slightly.
“Jesus, woman!” He grunts, but you don’t even try to move, you just look up at him with those fucking doe eyes of yours and it takes everything in him to not groan at the sight of you. God knows how many times he’s imagined you looking up at him whilst you sucked his cock, knelt on the floor with tears in your eyes and your hair all messy for him with your big eyes staring into his.
You open your mouth to speak, before realising the position you’re in and quickly standing up.
“I- there were infected outside, Joel.” You explain after a moment.
“So?” He questions you, squinting in confusion slightly. You’ve taken down infected before, no problem. What’s the issue today?
“No, like- I swear it looked like there were a hundred of them. Just this big fucking horde, right outside the garage door.” You gestured back towards the exit.
He clenched his jaw. Yeah, okay, you could take down some infected, not a hundred.
“Y’sure?”
“I’m fucking sure, Joel!” You almost yelled, way too many emotions going on in your body for you to act normal right now.
“Alright, alright, calm down.” He looked back outside. It was almost dark, there was no way you could get back to Boston in time now. It just wasn’t safe to go that far so late, and there was no point since you’d have to sneak by all the guards - who hopefully wouldn’t notice if you were gone for one night - to get back in.
“Go check all the doors, lock ‘em and then barricade ‘em. We’re gonna have to hold up here for tonight, then go back at dawn.” He decides, and you gape at him like a fish.
“We’re staying here?! Joel, what about curfew and the- the fucking infected right outside-” you start, but he silences you once again.
“We’re gonna be fine. When have things ever gone wrong for us since you started comin’ out with me?” He questions sternly, and you ponder it.
Never, really. He always saved you, and you’d save him when he needed it - even though it was only a handful of times he did.
“‘Kay, fine. Whatever.” You mumble stubbornly before turning round to go secure the doors leading to the small mechanic store you’d be staying in.
He looks around himself for any openings and closes them up before you both end up back in the main room.
It’s mostly silent as you look around at different things, poking at the ruined cars and whatnot whilst he sits on a crate and watches you as discreetly as possible.
“I have a question.” You say, turning to face him and making him snap his head away from you before you notice he was looking at you already.
He grunts to tell you to continue speaking, looking back at you when you do.
“Could you like.. show me how to fix up my guns and stuff? ‘Cause you always do it for me and I just thought it was.. Cool.” you murmur, trailing off at the end.
He actually lets out a small laugh at that. Not in a mean way, necessarily, just kind of teasingly.
“Cool?” He repeats with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, cool. It just- with all the attachments and shit. And I can never clean them properly.” You sigh, walking up closer to him. “Please? We’ve got nothing else to do.”
The sound of you saying please for him in that small voice wins him over. “Fine.” He gets up off the crate, walking back over to the workbench and flicking the light on before taking your gun from you. He talks you through it, shows you a little how to clean it before letting you try it yourself, and then he shows you how to add a scope to it. You can’t quite grasp it though, not being strong and precise enough to attach it properly, so he places his hands on top of yours and helps you screw it on.
The contact makes you shudder so violently that he definitely felt it, and you want to crumple into the ground.
“What was that for?” He murmurs, and you almost jump at how close he is now, voice loud and breath hot on the side of your face as he leans over your shoulder to look at the gun whilst he tries to help you.
“No-nothing.” You squeak, breathing at least ten times faster now.
He feels it. He knows. He has to know, you’d been so stupid and revealed it all now. Joel Miller was not an idiot and he knew how you felt and he’d hate you for it. Your thoughts spiralled.
“Nothin’, huh?” He taunts, a smirk pulling at his lips as he watches you slowly crumble. To make it worse, he turns you in his hold, so you’re pinned with your back to the desk and his hands on either side of you.
“Y’alright, darlin’? You look awfully hot. Don’t got a fever or nothin’?” He mumbles, seeing how far he can push you as he leans in closer.
“I-I’m fine.” You say quietly, mesmerised by the sight of his face so close as you notice little details you’d never noticed before, barely even realising his lips are so close to your own until he’s pressing them to yours.
You make a slight noise of surprise before you get lost in it. The feeling of his lips against yours was something you’d dreamed about for so long, and now it was finally happening.
Your hands come up and around his neck, pulling him closer towards you as he deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and overpowering you immediately as he pushes you back onto the workbench, sitting you on top of it and already working open the buttons of your jeans.
He kisses you one more time before getting to his knees and pulling your pants completely off, eyeing your panties, a dark patch in the middle of them from your growing arousal.
“Joel, please.” You whimper from above him as his hands run up your legs, coming to your inner thighs before toying with the elastic of your panties.
“Y’need me here, darlin’?” He asks, smirking up at you as his fingers move to rub slow circles into your clit through the fabric.
“Fuck!” You gasp at the contact, needy and desperate for him by this point. “Yes, please- please Joel.” You’re reduced to begging already, something you figure only he had the power to make you do.
He shushes you gently, fingers slowly peeling your panties down and groaning at the sight of your bare cunt, dripping and pulsing with need.
“Fuck, baby. Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin’ wet. This all for me?” He hums, dragging a finger up and down your slit, gathering your wetness on it and sucking it into his mouth as he looks up at you.
You whine at the sight of him between your legs like this, not knowing how you’re going to survive when he actually makes contact with you, and nod furiously.
“Yes, oh my god. Yes, it’s all for you Joel.” You say quickly, and he seems satisfied with that answer, finally moving his face to your core and making you squirm as his hot breath fans over your pussy.
“Stop fuckin’ movin’.” He murmurs, seemingly enraptured by the sight of you, staring for a few seconds and making you want to shift away again under his intense gaze, but he has an arm on you to make sure you don’t move.
And then he finally, finally, licks a long stripe up your pussy, tongue running along your wet folds. And you fucking lose it.
“Oh my god, Joel, please. Fuck- fuck, please, more-” you start begging, moaning loudly as he picks up the pace and continues to devour you, drinking down your wetness, and eventually kissing and sucking at your clit. His fingers, those thick gorgeous fingers you’d dreamed of for so long, tease your entrance before he’s pushing those inside, making you wail at the feeling of something inside of you, getting you closer to that release you were aching for by this point.
“Fuck, yes!” You cry out, thighs shaking slightly as you feel yourself getting close.
“That’s right, baby. You like that?” He asks, voice an octave lower as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight heat, tongue still working you over relentlessly.
“Please- it feels so good-” you whine in response, fingers grasping for something to hold onto, to tether yourself to earth with as you feel yourself start to float away. Finding his hair and tugging slightly which makes him groan.
“Good girl.” He praises, adding another finger. He curls his fingers, searching for your g-spot and finding it easily.
You moan weakly at the praise, hips bucking as you grind yourself against his mouth, the ridge of his nose stimulating your clit perfectly as your fingers pull at his hair, and before you know it, you’re coming with a hoarse scream of his name.
You see white as your thighs quiver around his head, tensing and squeezing slightly as he continues to work you through it, lapping at your juices until you cry out from the overstimulation.
He removes his fingers from your hole, licking them clean once more before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his hard cock and making your eyes widen slightly.
Of course he was big, you’d stared at the bulge of his jeans enough times to realise that, and you’d imagined it before, but it all paled in comparison to finally seeing it.
He was long, slightly curved, girthy with a flushed red tip which had precome leaking out of it as he pumped himself slowly with a smirk on his face.
“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” He hums teasingly, and you can’t even think straight anymore, just pulling him forward and kissing him hungrily as he positioned his cock at your slick entrance.
Needy little whines and whimpers flowed freely from your mouth straight into his, where he swallowed them whole before starting to push into you.
You part from the kiss suddenly, gasping as he pushes deeper and deeper, stretching you thoroughly, and you feel grateful that he has the decency to start off slow since you already feel like crying from how big he is, how fucking good it feels.
When he bottoms out, you’re already wrecked. He’s huge inside of you, and you can feel everything. Every single ridge, vein, and twitch of his pulsing cock as your walls hug him tightly.
“Y’okay?” He murmurs softly, making your heart swell at how tender he sounds right now, and you nod in response.
“Joel.. please move.” You whisper, and he complies, grabbing your hips and barely giving you a moment to think before he’s starting to pound into you, making you squeal as your arms came around his neck, nails digging into his back before his head ducks down into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point and making you clench harder around him, before moving down to your breasts, palming them and taking one of your nipples into his mouth as you scream his name.
“Joel! I’m gonna- gonna come- oh god, please!” You cry out, back arching. He growls, picking up the pace. He could feel his orgasm building, but he needed you to come first, needed to feel your tight walls clenching and gushing around him before he even considered his own pleasure.
“Come on, baby. Give me one more and I’ll fill you up. Fuck this little cunt full of me.. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He says, voice low and husky as his balls slap against your ass, the loud sound of your wetness filling the room as you start to tremble once more.
“Yes! Fuck, Joel. Need it so bad. Want your come inside of me. Please, Joel.” You gasp, making him groan as his fingers move down to rub at your clit.
“Come for me, baby.” He encourages, speeding up even more and hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, making you scream as you come and dissolve into a shaking, whimpering mess whilst he continues to thrust into you.
“That’s it, darlin’. Come all over my cock.” He grunts, his own release approaching quickly. The sounds of your moans and cries are enough to set him off, barely thrusting a few more times before stilling and filling you with his hot seed, slowly fucking it even deeper inside of you before pulling out and looking at you.
Skin flushed, panting heavily, come leaking down your thighs. You looked perfect. He wished that cameras were still around so he could take a picture of how you looked right now, keep it in his pocket wherever he went. But he couldn’t, and he realised you probably needed cleaning up now as your hazy eyes blinked open and looked at him. You were quiet, thinking about what this meant for the two of you now. Would he go back to being the cold man you knew? Would he be even colder? Would he suddenly be attentive and caring towards you?
You supposed you got your answer when he gently cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he looked at you with something scarily close to love in his eyes, the gaze he’d somehow managed to conceal from you all these months which he could now finally show you.
“You okay?” He murmurs, and you nod weakly in response. He hums, giving you another small kiss before walking off to go get a rag to clean you up with.
“Hold on, let me just..” he mumbles to himself as he goes to try clean off any dust from the rag, before returning to between your thighs and cleaning away any evidence of your previous activities, tossing the rag somewhere and handing you your clothes. You get dressed quietly before he takes your hand and leads you over to a space on the floor where you set up your sleeping bags, putting them as close together as possible until he eventually just lets you tuck yourself into his, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and falling asleep.
You listen to his soft snores, feel his calloused hands on your stomach where they snaked under your shirt before he fell asleep, and smile to yourself softly before falling asleep with him.
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Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and my requests are open 💞
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senseofnewness · 4 months ago
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What do you think dating Stanford!art is like?
stanford!art being your college boyfriend [NSFW]
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• you met during orientation week, despite having different majors, you and art were placed in the same group of fifteen people, all wearing matching blue 'stanford' t-shirts, everyone was quiet and shy at first, but with each building visited, the atmosphere grew more comfortable
• during the campus tour, you muttered a few sarcastic comments under your breath, causing him to chuckle more than once, amused by your wit, he gravitated towards you and introduced himself, walking by your side for the rest of the tour
• afterwards, each time you met him in the corridors, you would nod and greet each other with a playful "sup, blue" referencing your orientation group, he always responded with a huge grin, and it was then you began to notice just how cute he looked, you thought for a second that maybe he wasn’t like all of those stupid jocks, or maybe he was, you had barely exchanged two words but getting to know him could be worth it
• one day, during lunch, you found yourself standing behind him in line at the cafeteria and greeted him as you filled your tray with food, after a quick, casual chat about how school was going, he invited you to join him and his friends at his table, "sure" you answered with a shrug, thinking you were going to eat alone anyway, so why not join the hot boy from the tennis club?
• at the table, he introduced you as his friend, even though you would consider him barely an acquaintance, just a familiar face you were always pleased to see, you quickly got along with everyone, your talkative nature taking over, from time to time, you felt art's eyes on you, an amused smile lingering on his lips as he sat across from you
• he had mentioned having a match the following day and invited you to come along, you barely knew anything about tennis, but you thought this could be the perfect opportunity to learn more about him, as tennis seemed to be such an important part of his life, so you accepted his invitation and promised to be there to cheer him on
• the match took place at 2pm the next day and your neck was starting to ache from following the ball as it flew from one side of the court to the other, art returned every volley with precision, steadily gaining the upper hand over his opponent, you knew nothing about the rules of tennis, but the cheers from the audience were enough to assure you that art was winning the match
• art had humiliated his opponent, the score so one-sided it was almost absurd, you skipped down the bleachers to join him on the court, "well played, blue!" you called out, your voice carrying over the distance, he waved at you, a smug look on his face, "thanks" he said, "you should stick around, we’re having a little celebratory get-together”
• once at the party, it didn’t take long for the yapper in you to find a group of people to overshare with, but art remained by your side, filling your glass every time it came close to being empty, there was something truly endearing about the way he noticed when you were about to finish your drink, always making sure you never got thirsty, on the other hand, you couldn't help but wonder if it was wise to trust a stranger with your drink
• now it was just the two of you, you were tipsy and art was discussing the earlier match in detail, although you had no particular interest in talking about tennis at the moment, or ever, art made it captivating, you hung on every word, your eyes fixed on his lips, "what do you think?" he asked, pulling you out of your reverie, "what?" you blurted out, "seems like you're really into tennis" he teased, "what can I say? i love balls", both of you chuckled, "you kinda remind me of my friend patrick", what did that mean? his friend? you had no desire to be just his friend, you needed to make your intentions clear, "why? does he love your balls too?"
• "dance with me” you said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor, "i can't dance" he protested, though he followed you willingly, like a docile boy, "come on, it's not rocket science, just put your hands on me and move", his hands settled on your hips as you swayed your body against his to the music, the space between you diminished as he leaned in, his eyes locking with yours, you tilted your head slightly and he closed the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, tentative kiss, first gentle, then more passionate as tongues met, tangling, you could taste the alcohol in his saliva
• the rest of the night passed in a blur, with you and art making out in every corner of the place, each time someone approached, you would shift to a new spot, not out of embarrassment but to avoid being interrupted by chatter, all you wanted was to keep your lips pressed against his, to feel the thrill of his touch, you just couldn’t keep your hands off him, there was something irresistibly addictive about the sensation of his soft blond curls slipping through your fingers, soon, it became harder to breathe, and you found yourself craving more of him with an intense, almost desperate hunger
• you were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around Art’s hips as he stood before you, the heat between your core and his growing more intense by the second, you felt an urgent need for him, “we should go to sleep” you suggested, lying in hopes that he would catch your hint, “i should walk you to your dorm” he murmured against your lips, reluctantly pulling away, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you”
• the walk back to your place was a mix of light-hearted chatter and giggles, as you reached your door, you lingered there, biting your lower lip in anticipation while fiddling with your keys, “want to watch a movie?” you asked, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. “sure” he replied, his eyes bright with desire as he followed you inside after you unlocked the door
• the first movie played, then the next, and the one after that, but you barely registered what was on the screen, you were way too focused on him, comfortably wrapped in his embrace and between kisses and sharing stories about your lives, you learned about Art’s years at the tennis academy in Florida, his best friend Patrick, and his beloved grandmother, but you also became intimately familiar with his body, you weren’t sure who made the first move, perhaps it was you, but your hand now caressed his length, while his fingers teased your clit, both of you moaning softly, lost in the pleasure of each other’s touch
• after minutes of intense overstimulation, both of you were exhausted, breathing heavily, “shit, i should go” art muttered, quickly standing up, “the coach is going to get my ass if i'm late to morning practice”, you pouted in disappointment as he adjusted his semi-hard cock back into his pants while you wiped his cum off your hand onto your shirt, “give me your phone” you said, extending your now-cleaned hand, he passed it over and you began typing in your number, “text me when you’re back at your dorm” you instructed, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty boy like you”, his smile widened at your teasing remark echoing his earlier words
• you had fallen asleep after his departure and the first thing you noticed when you woke up was his ‘morning, blue’ text, the fact that he had thought about you first thing after training brought a smile to your face, throughout the day, you exchanged texts about nothing and everything all at once, later that day, you joined him after classes, eager to see him in person, nothing was better than being face-to-face and lips-to-lips
• in the days that followed, sneaking into each other’s dorms after authorized hours became a thrilling game, dodging the resident assistants’ watchful eyes, you’d slip into each other’s beds, where you mostly got off by dry humping, though you were ready for more but art wanted to take things slow, wanting to show you it was more than just sex, and while you thought his intentions were sweet, you secretly wished he would stop respecting you so much and just stretch you out with his pretty cock
• it took just a few more days before art was balls deep inside you, his resolve crumbled when you sat on top of him and rubbed yourself against his bulge, in a swift motion, he flipped you over and undressed you, rolling on a condom before thrusting himself inside, he fucked you like no one ever had, releasing all the built-up tension, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his asscheeks, and your moans were muffled by his mouth on yours, he had made you come more than once that night
• art was also the first guy to venture his tongue between your legs, apart from a boyfriend or two, you weren't that experienced, and no one had ever shown interest in pleasuring you that way, so when art ate you out for the first time, it was a revelation, you doubted you could ever go back to anything else but oral sex, while art was certainly a good fuck, his dick was far less skilled than his tongue, he attentively sucked on your swollen clit, turning you into a moaning mess, and all you had to do was lie there and watch him work, his face glistening with your juices, you loved being helpless under his care
• you only realized how much you cared about him when you saw him interacting with another girl in the cafeteria, tashi duncan, you recognized her from the posters, she was leaning over the table, chatting with him, and he was smiling back at her, the sight ignited a wave of jealousy in you and you moved closer to the table as she walked away, “who was she?” you asked, sitting down beside him, he looked at you before responding that she was a friend of his, “she’s cute” you added, a hint of bitterness lacing your voice, “didn’t notice” he replied, though you could tell he was lying, “sure” you said, rolling your eyes, only an idiot would miss tashi’s charms, but it’s not like you could act possessive and call him out on his bullshit, after all, you didn’t own him, you weren’t his girlfriend
• you were studying in his room, lying on your stomach on his bed, when he finally spoke the words you had been waiting to hear, “you know i like you a lot” he confessed, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that revealed his nervousness, you could see his hands trembling slightly, betraying his emotions, “i do too” you replied, meeting his gaze with a smile, then, with a hopeful tone, he asked, “do you want to be my girlfriend?” you grinned, your heart swelling with happiness, “wait, i wasn’t already?” you teased, pretending to be shocked, “shit, i need to cancel the wedding!” with a laugh, you nodded your head and cupped his face in your hands, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips
• making it official had made everything more concrete, taking things to a more intense level, sure, you were already spending every night fucking each other’s brains out, but now condoms were a thing of the past, fucking you raw had made a monster out of art, he reveled in every opportunity to fill you with his cum, enjoying the sight of his warm load dripping out of you down your thighs, in the past, he had come covered your body with his semen, ass, face, tits, multiple times, but now that seemed wasteful, only your tight little cunt was worthy of welcoming him, and he made sure to take full advantage of it
• you became his biggest cheerleader, attending every match, proudly wearing t-shirts with his face and name on, the whole campus knew you as art donaldson’s girlfriend, and while you liked the attention, you couldn’t ignore the whispers, you secretly wished people would acknowledge you for your own accomplishments, rather than just being the tennis prodigy’s ‘pathetic little puppy who follows him around’
• while he had mostly called you ‘blue’ in the past, you now held the cherished title of ‘baby’ and being his baby came with certain privileges : his wardrobe had become yours, you had lost count of how many times you had stolen one of his shirts or caps, also he now walked you to your classes every day, hand in hand, always insisting on carrying your backpack, sometimes, you shared such long kisses in front of the classroom door that he ended up being late to his own class, everyone passing by shooting you side-eye glances, but you both are too wrapped up in each other to even care
• kissing wasn’t the only thing you did in public, you took great pleasure in giving art random boners, turning it into a game, a game that boosted your self-esteem like no other, you loved watching him struggle and blush as he tried to discreetly adjust his growing length in his pants, all it took was sitting on his lap and subtly rubbing your ass against him, pressing your breasts against his chest during hugs, playing with his hair, wearing shirts with no bra on, or simply licking your lip, okay, you had to admit, art was also the type of boy who got horny at the mere sight of you breathing
• a few weeks later, you finally met patrick, along with his girlfriend, tashi duncan, you had never approached her before, she was too intimidating for that, patrick, on the other hand, was as friendly as can be, filling every moment with questions and jokes, never allowing a second of silence to settle between you, you could see why art thought you were similar, both unable to shut up, with patrick around, you discovered a new side of art, a playful, childlike side, so while the two of them got caught up in their reckless antics, you found yourself stuck with tashi, gradually getting to know her and even ending up befriending her
• sometimes, after a long practice, art is too tired to join you in your room for the night, on those days, you make sure to convince him that you’re worth the exhaustion, like that time you sent him a picture of yourself wearing nothing but the blue shirt from orientation week, your nipples pressed hard against the fabric and your lacy panties sheer enough to reveal your hairless cunt, he was at your door in five minutes, his sore muscles an afterthought
• you two are like animals, fucking in every room and every position possible, gone was the shy, respectful art from orientation week who touched you with such a gentle care, he now grabbed you by the hair as he aggressively shoved his throbbing cock in you any time he felt like it, calling you like ‘his little whore’ while painting your walls with his thick cum, your sessions had become a contest of who could outmoan the other, often interrupted by banging on the walls and people yelling from the other side of the door
• it had only been two months of dating when he finally said "i love you", you were acting silly, making him laugh, when he blurted it out, taken aback, you felt a rush of emotions, you had wanted to say it for days but had not dared, when you had discussed it with your friends, they all agreed it was way too early for that, “i love you too” you eagerly whispered, pulling him into a deep kiss
• for your birthday, he had given you a silver necklace adorned with your birthstone, it was so beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he had chosen such a thoughtful gift, you only had been dating for a few months after all, you wore it every day, never taking it off except for showers, you loved how it hung perfectly between your breasts and how it bounced against your hard nipples while you rode art's hard cock
• “i want three kids” he said after fucking you, his hands wandering over your stomach, stroking it gently, “three?” you gasped in shock, “come on, let’s have one and then we’ll see” you tried to reason with him, but that only sparked new ideas in his head, “should we?” he asked, his eyes bright with excitement, you knew he wanted children, it was obvious from all that dirty talk about filling you up and making him a daddy but you didn’t think he was that serious about it, “art, we’re 19” you reminded him and he shrugged nonchalantly in response, “so, am I just destined to be your little tennis wife? popping your babies out one after the other while you become a superstar?” you teased, though a part of you was serious, you had plans for your future, and while children were part of it, there were still so many things you wanted to experience and accomplish first, sure, you loved him, but you weren’t ready to be overshadowed by a man or to become just an extension of him
• for christmas, art visited his grandmother at her nursing home, and you insisted on coming along, bringing a batch of home-baked treats for her, when you finally met her, it was clear where art had inherited his sweet nature, watching him shower her with care and affection made you imagine a near future where you could give him the children he desired so much, ultimately your mother would forgive you for being a teen mom once she would hold your first child, right?
• his grandmother had come to adore you, and soon it was you insisting on visiting her, one day, she proudly showed you her ring, a cherished gift from her late husband, and promised that one day it would be on your finger, thoughts of weddings began to swirl in your mind and you found yourself wondering if being just an athlete’s wife might not be such a terrible fate after all
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months ago
Text
i'm glad i get forever to see where you end
check all tags on and read if you prefer on ao3
rated e, minors dni
happy birthday to my wife in all but law, @messessentialist. this whole idea came out of nowhere and then just kept growing and growing, much like my love for you. anytime you're ready to live our rv life dreams, i'm ready.
i'm not gonna post any links here, but just know i had 8 tabs open of different fish and birds that can be seen in and around indiana lakes. i didn't have a particular lake in mind, but there are plenty to choose from so if it matters to you, i mostly looked at lakes in the northeast and northwest area of indiana.
title is lyrics from forever by noah kahan, which is a song you should absolutely listen to if you haven't before.
this work is for sadie. if she is the only one who reads this, then that's all that matters to me.
//////////////////////////////////////////
🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣
He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.
But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.
“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”
Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.
For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.
For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.
He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.
And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.
He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.
He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.
It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.
Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.
But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.
Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.
“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”
Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.
“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”
“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”
Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”
He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.
Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.
“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”
This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.
“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”
Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.
“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.
“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”
And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.
“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”
“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.
“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”
Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.
Hearing it changes something in Wayne.
“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.
“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”
“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”
They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.
A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.
“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.
“Sure is.”
“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.
“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.
“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”
Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.
“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”
Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.
“I’m an orphan!”
Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.
“Sorry, what?”
“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.
“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”
“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”
“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”
Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.
He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.
“Let’s eat.”
- - -
Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.
Wayne’s been waiting.
Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.
“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.
“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.
“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”
He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.
Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.
It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.
It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.
“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”
“Could Steve come?”
“Sure.”
He agrees without a second thought.
This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.
Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.
“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”
Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.
- - -
Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.
But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.
“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.
“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”
“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”
Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.
“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”
“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.
“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”
Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.
He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.
He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.
“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.
“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”
“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.
“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”
“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”
“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.
But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.
“Steve, I feel like-“
“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”
Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”
“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”
“Not surprising.”
“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”
Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”
Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.
- - -
The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.
Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.
It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.
They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.
Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…
“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.
“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”
“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”
He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.
His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.
Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.
But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.
He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.
Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.
“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.
“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.
“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”
“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”
Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.
Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.
As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.
Steve doesn’t notice him.
- - -
The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.
When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.
Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.
It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.
“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”
“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.
“Rock, paper, scissors?”
“That’s stupid.”
Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”
“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”
Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.
He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.
“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.
“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”
Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”
Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.
“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”
“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.
“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.
Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.
He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.
They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.
“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”
“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”
Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.
“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”
“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”
Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.
“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.
“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”
Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.
“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”
Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.
He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.
“You mean everything to me.”
Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.
Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.
He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.
He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.
Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.
He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.
This wasn’t a dream, though.
They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.
He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.
Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.
Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.
“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.
“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”
Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”
This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.
In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.
A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.
Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.
That’s just who Steve is.
Eddie loves him for it.
“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”
Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.
He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.
“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”
“That sounds boring.”
Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.
It’s easy.
A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.
“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.
“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.
Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.
He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.
“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.
Steve relaxes and sighs.
“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”
“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”
“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”
Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”
“A kiss.”
Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.
“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”
Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.
“One kiss.”
“Only one?” Eddie pouts.
“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”
“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.
Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.
He gets to look now.
After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.
He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.
“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.
“Like you wanna eat me.”
“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”
Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.
“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.
Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.
When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.
“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”
Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.
Steve wordlessly points it out to him.
“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.
“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”
“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.
“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”
Wayne nods. “And the bait.”
“I thought we used plastic stuff.”
“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”
Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”
“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.
“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”
They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.
Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.
Or tomorrow.
“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.
Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.
“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.
“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”
Eddie nods and leaves the room.
He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.
He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.
But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.
Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Being on the boat is different as an adult.
The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.
This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.
Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.
“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”
Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.
Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”
Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.
It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.
They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.
Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.
He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.
Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.
Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.
When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”
Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.
Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.
“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.
The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.
“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”
Steve nods and turns back.
Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.
Eddie watches Wayne curiously.
Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.
Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”
“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.
Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.
“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.
“It won’t. Keep going.”
When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.
“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”
Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.
“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.
“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”
Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.
“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”
Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”
Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.
Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.
He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.
“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.
“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”
Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.
They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.
Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.
So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.
He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.
He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.
He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.
He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.
📼📼📼📼📼
Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.
He’s never been happier.
He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.
Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.
Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.
After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.
Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.
Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.
“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”
Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.
As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.
“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.
“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”
“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.
“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”
“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”
Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.
“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”
“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”
“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.
“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.
Steve shakes his head, watching closely.
“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”
Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.
“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”
Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.
“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”
Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.
“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”
Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.
“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”
Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.
“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”
Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.
“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”
Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.
All he really has is Wayne.
“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”
Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.
But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.
“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”
“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”
Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.
“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.
“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”
Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.
Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.
As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.
“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.
“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”
“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.
“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.
“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”
“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.
“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”
Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.
It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.
He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.
Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.
And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.
Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.
“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”
Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.
“Sounds good.”
Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.
“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.
“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”
Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.
They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.
Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.
He doesn’t care to hide it.
Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.
“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.
“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.
“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”
Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.
Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.
He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.
“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.
Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.
“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”
They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.
It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.
“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”
Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.
To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.
“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”
Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”
“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”
“I remember that book,” Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”
Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”
Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.
“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.
“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.
Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.
When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.
He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.
But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.
“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.
“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.
“Now.”
“It’s dark.”
“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.
“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.
“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.
Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.
“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.
“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”
Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.
Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.
“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.
Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.
When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.
“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”
“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”
Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.
Being here with Eddie is perfect.
Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.
“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.
“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.
“Just a little more.”
Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.
When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.
Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.
“Okay?” Steve asks.
Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”
Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.
“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”
Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.
“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”
Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.
“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”
Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.
“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”
Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.
“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”
Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.
“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”
Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.
“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”
Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.
But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.
“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”
Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”
Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”
Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.
Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.
“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”
Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.
“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.
“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”
“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”
Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.
“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.
“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”
Steve nods. That’s all he can do.
Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.
Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.
Eddie shivers in his arms.
“Cold?” Steve whispers.
Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”
So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.
When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.
They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.
Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.
The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.
“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.
“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”
Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.
“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.
Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.
“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.
“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.
Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.
Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.
“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.
Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.
“New record for me, too, baby.”
“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.
“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.
“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”
“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.
“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”
“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.
“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.
Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.
“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”
Steve smiles shyly back at him.
“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”
Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.
“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”
“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.
“I really do.”
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.
Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.
He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.
Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.
The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.
He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.
His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.
Eddie is close enough now.
It’s definitely a heart.
“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”
“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”
“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”
“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.
“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”
“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”
“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”
“So do I.”
Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.
“Fine.”
As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.
“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.
“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”
Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”
“Touché.”
Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.
“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”
“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”
“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.
Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.
“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.
“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.
“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”
Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.
He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.
Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”
Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.
“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”
“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”
Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.
“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.
“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“
Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.
“Jesus, the mouth on you.”
“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”
“I’ll make the rest.”
Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.
He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.
He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.
This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.
🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣
five years later
Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.
When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.
“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.
“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”
Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”
“Oh no.” Steve groaned.
Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.
Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.
“I hate the outdoors.”
“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.
Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.
He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.
Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.
They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.
“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”
“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”
Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.
“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.
“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”
“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”
As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.
He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.
Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.
“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.
“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.
“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.
“Ha!” Steve yells.
Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.
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storywriter007 · 3 months ago
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HI OH MY GODS!! your writing drives me INSANE in the best way possible and i'm so obsessed with your fics. i was wondering if you could somehow make a fic based on the "no one touches her!" line in the book??
i'm just imagining maybe an argument between percy and reader before the big fight and then the line happens and then maybe end in fluff?? ofc you can take this however you want to!! THANK YOU A MILLION!!
No One Touches Her - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
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author's note: OMMGGG TYSM!!!! im so glad you like my work!! thanks for the request! i'm sorry it took a while and i hope you like it :)
warnings: cursing, battle, mention of bloof
genre: fluff
word count: 1.1k
-> heroes of olympus masterlist
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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)
✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒
"you don't care about me!" y/n yelled from across the room. "you never have!"
"do you even hear yourself right now?" percy retaliated, just as loudly. "you know damn well i'd do anything for you!"
a battle was on its way as percy and y/n had their loud disagreement in an unknown sector of camp. she'd loved him for too long. she'd kept faith in him for too long. she'd been "friends" with him for too long.
"really percy! than answer my one fucking question, what are we?"
"you're my best friend!" he answered.
"that's what i mean! you know damn well we're not just 'best friends!'" she said angrily. "i can admit what i feel for you, why can't you do the same?"
"because i don't know!" he confessed. "i don't know."
of course he didn't know how he felt about her. of course he didn't consider the countless nights they'd stayed up and held each other while they wept about their lives. of course he didn't count how many times they'd almost kissed. of course he didn't count her.
"i'll put in words for you." she said softly, her eyes welling up with tears. "more than friends, less than lovers."
a war was about to begin. and now if she died, he would know how she'd truly felt all these years. percy looked at her with empathy and guilt in his eyes, but she turned away, preparing for the worst.
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good thing she had prepared for the worst, because how else would she have been able to fight off four monsters, by herself, with a sprained ankle, blurry vision, and intense fatigue.
she felt herself wobble as she swung her sword, but it made no impact. suddenly, she felt herself drop to her knees as spots of black began to fill her eyesight.
was this it? was this how it was going to end?
she looked around at the hideous faces that surrounded her. she'd die a martyr, a warrior, maybe even a hero. she wondered what her legacy would be; if anybody would remember her. she felt a monster slither closer to her.
"she can't fight anymore." it chuckled. "she's giving up."
"she's worn down." another monster added. "let's finish the job."
dying at the hands of a vicious beast wasn't exactly her top choice, but she couldn't do anything to prevent it. her limbs felt weak, her mind fogged up. she felt herself collapse on the ground. this was it. this was how it was going to end. she took one final look at the warzone around her.
"goodbye y/n." a monster chuckled.
suddenly, the monster began yelling in pain. her eyes fluttered open as she watched the monster float into the air, choking and gasping. then it happened to the next monster, and the next, and the next.
"no one touches her!" an angry, powerful voice yelled.
y/n fluttered her eyes open, squinting so she could see. there he was, in all his glory. percy jackson. she heard a pop sound, realizing that the monsters had exploded. he'd killed them. but he didn't slash and stab them, he bent their blood.
she faintly heard percy's voice as he knelt down next to her.
"y/n? y/n!" he screamed, stroking her hair. "fuck fuck fuck."
she felt herself get moved as her eyes shut.
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she woke up with the same blurry vision. she blinked a few times to clear it up before checking her surroundings. she was in the infirmary. she looked around, and saw someone across from her on her bed. he was looking down at the ground, anxiously bouncing his leg. his hand rested atop hers.
"percy?" she asked, looking at him.
he quickly turned to look at her and his eyes lit up.
"y/n!" he smiled. "you're awake, you're alive!" turning to face her.
will solace came in.
"she's awake!" percy said enthusiathically.
"i know." he smiled. "i heard you from across the hall."
"what happened?" y/n asked
"you were hit, and passed out from losing too much blood." will explained.
percy was still wearing the same tattered clothes from battle.
"i'll give you guys a few minutes, y/n, i'll be right back to check your vitals." will said, exiting the room.
"how long have you been here?" she asked, sitting up a little bit.
"i dunno, twenty-somethin' hours?" he guessed.
"non-stop?"
he shrugged in response.
"percy, i-"
"listen, i know we had a fight beforehand. and the truth is, i wasn't confused, i was scared. i didn't want to ruin everything we had for a relationship. and the thought of losing you freaked me out, so i-i was a dick and i lied."
"percy-"
"just hear me out, y/n. you almost died, and i, i don't know, i just don't think i could live if you weren't here." he admitted. "when you said 'more than friends, less than lovers,' you were wrong. we are more than friends. i love you, i always have, and i'm sorry that i made you doubt that-"
her heart fluttered as the three words left his mouth. she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. his arms gently wrapped around her as her hands cupped his face. he tasted like smoke and salt-water. his hair reeked of battle, and she could feel how rough his skin was. he pushed her back a little, deepening the kiss. it was passionate, it was sweet, it was long overdue.
"holy olympus, get off of her. it's been two minutes since the girl woke up." will said as he returned.
percy, very annoyedly, was forced to pull back as will checked y/n's vitals.
"all good, y/n." he smiled. "you're free to go whenever you're ready. stay light on the sugar. don't push yourself too hard just yet. get plenty of rest."
"thank you will." she smiled back.
"where's my thank you?" percy asked, offended. "i saved your life."
"you ruined my shot at a really cool death." she laughed.
"i'm sure the sugar will get to you before the monsters do." he chuckled, before leaning in to kiss her again.
it was a little more needy this time. it was clear percy had heard will's clearance, because he was a little more firm this time.
"sorry, forgot my stethoscop- for the love of gods jackson." will commented, grabbing his equipment and hitting the back of percy's head.
"ow!" he remarked, rubbing the back of his head.
y/n couldn't help but laugh. percy laid his head on y/n's chest.
"i love you." he said, quietly.
"i love you more." she smiled. "but you've gotta get up before will comes in and yells at you again."
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dreamsontheirway · 1 year ago
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It’s Not Your Fault | S.R.
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Summary: You leave work late one night and someone follows you. Spencer x reader. Warnings: stalker, sexual assault/unwanted touch Word Count: 1.7k
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Spencer hated it when you had to work late nights. You were also an agent at the BAU, but sometimes you had to stay late to complete paperwork. He would stay late with you on occasion, but you hated inconveniencing him. Of course, he would never consider it an inconvenience.
He had offered to stay late with you again tonight, but you refused. He had such a long day and you knew he needed rest. Besides, you wouldn’t be too long.
It was only around 9 pm when you were finishing up your work. You heard the shrill beep of your phone, indicating a notification.
Hi darling. Almost finished?
You smiled at his message. You quickly sent a reply, letting him know that you would be leaving imminently. Almost immediately, he replied with a thumbs up and a heart.
You began compiling all your papers and files, now completed, and placed them in the filing cabinet at your desk. You stood up, grabbed your satchel bag, and admired the look of your tidy desk before turning on your heel and walking towards the door.
You normally parked in the parking garage attached to the building, but earlier today it had been massively full due to a conference. You were forced to park in the garage down the street a ways. This wasn’t so bad; the early fall weather was the perfect kind to walk in.
You began your short trek from your building to the parking garage, adjusting your satchel bag on your shoulder. It made you a bit nervous how dark it was already, but it wasn’t a far walk by any means.
You were about halfway there when you heard the light scraping of shoes on concrete behind you. You snuck a glance and saw a dark figure about fifty feet away. Most of the time men on the street were harmless, but you were an agent, and you had a bad feeling about this. There had been a few cases recently about women being assaulted in this area.
You assumed you were just being a bit paranoid. It had been a long day of looking at horrible case notes, after all. You decided to walk diagonally across the street as a short cut, and to see if the figure behind you did the same. Your stomach twisted tightly when the figure followed your path exactly. The figure had gotten closer, too, by at least ten feet.
Your hand instinctively went to your hip. Shit. You had left your gun locked up in the office. Shit.
You could hold your own in a fight, but you had absolutely no clue what you were up against here, and no back up.
You scrambled and fumbled your phone out of your pocket, and clicked the most recent contact on your call list. He picked up on the second ring.
“Y/N, are you on your way home y—“
“Spencer,” you whispered, with an intensity that resulted in a thick silence on the other end. You typically called him Spence. He knew something was wrong. “Someone’s following me. I left my gun in my desk.”
“Shit,” Spencer exclaimed, frantically. “Shit. Where are you?” You heard rustling on the other end.
You were a talented agent, and Spencer knew you wouldn’t call him unless you thought there was something seriously wrong. Unless you thought you couldn’t handle it. The thought sent a shiver down Spencer’s back.
“I’m almost to the parking garage, but there’s no one around. Spencer, I don’t know anything about who’s behind me. I don’t know what to do.”
The person behind you was getting closer, but you were talking quietly enough so they couldn’t hear you. You were growing increasingly frightened. You knew you were trained for this, but you were still a relatively new agent, especially in comparison to Spencer and the rest of the team. You’ve had your fair share of creepy men come on to you, but you had the advantage of analyzing them and knowing what you were dealing with. You didn’t have that advantage this time around. You could assume the figure behind you was a man by the heavy steps, but that’s about it.
“Keep walking, quickly. I’m on my way. I’m texting the others. Stay on the line with me, please.” His voice was desperate; you could tell he was just as terrified as you. You knew one of his biggest fears was losing you. Your mind briefly flickered to the realization he’d probably never let you work late without him again. The thought seemed comforting in the moment, and you found yourself wishing he was here.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up stiffly.
“Hey baby,” a deep, slimy voice spoke, a few feet behind you.
Damn it, you thought. You had been preoccupied talking to Spencer, you hadn’t realized how much closer he’d gotten.
You ignored the voice, and continued to walk quickly. You were unsure about how to handle the situation. You just wanted to get to your car. You could see it shining in the distance, the beams of light dancing on the windows from the lights in the parking garage. Luckily, you had parked on the lower level so it would be easy to access.
“Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya,” the deep voice continued.
You could hear Spencer frantic on the phone, asking who the voice belonged to. You ignored him; you had to focus on making it to your car.
“Hey!” The voice bellowed, and a strong hand clutched your arm tightly, and you knew it would bruise.
You yanked it away, turning around. “Do not touch me.” You demanded, releasing a shaky breath.
Spencer was losing his mind. “Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”
You just breathed out in response. You slipped your phone into your back pocket, still on the call with Spencer.
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone out here on a night like this?” The man questioned. He smirked, his teeth crooked and his eyes a piercing blue, so different from Spencer’s soft and comforting hazel.
“I’m going home,” you stated, continuing towards your car, but angled so you could continue to watch the man.
“Come on,” he smirked. “Aren’t you up for a little fun?”
He lunged then, grabbing the sides of your arms and pushing you against the concrete wall right next to the parking garage. You struggled against his grip. He had caught you off guard, and he was much stronger than you.
“Let me go,” you spoke deeply, as venomously as you could muster, although the slight crack at the end wasn’t very intimidating.
He just hummed in response, and let his hand travel down your arm and rest against your hip. You squirmed against him, but his grip was far too tight. You felt bile rising up your esophagus at the touch of the vile creature in front of you.
You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn’t move. You had no part of your body free to even attempt to utilize the years of training you’ve had. The bastard knew what he was doing, and it terrified you.
The man’s large and sweaty hand traveled further, and squeezed at the fabric of your ass. Against your wishes, your let out a light sob.
All of a sudden, the man was torn away from you, his tight grip causing you to stumble forward onto the grass. It all happened so fast and you looked in the direction of where the man had been pulled to.
You saw a familiar head of brown, wavy hair. Spencer was clad in a Caltech sweatshirt and jeans. He really had left the house as soon as you called. He always preferred to wear a combination of slacks and a button down or sweater.
Spencer had the man pinned against the wall, one arm against his throat and the other — oh my god. Spencer’s right hand had his gun pressed to the man’s side.
“Don’t fucking touch her. What gave you the idea you could touch her?” Spencer growled, his left arm adding pressure to the man’s throat. Spencer rarely cursed; you knew he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this was during the whole events with Emily. But even then… this was different. The veins in his neck were popping out so much it looked like they might burst. Spencer was often protective of you, knowing the dangers out there in the world, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this.
“FBI, put your hands up!” A loud voice boomed to the left of you and you quickly looked towards it, breathing out when you saw Morgan, his gun pointed towards the man and Spencer.
Despite Morgan being here now and you being safe, Spencer didn’t budge from his position against the man.
“Agent Reid,” Morgan boomed, harshly, knowingly. He knew how much Spencer cared for you, and how quickly his emotions could escalate when something he cared about was threatened.
Spencer loosened his grip slightly, and the vile man against the wall lifted his hands up in defense. Spencer hesitated, then finally released him, but pushed the man against the wall as he let go.
Morgan rushed forward and took Spencer’s place, twisting the man so his front was against the wall. He grabbed his wrists and placed them in cuffs.
You were sat, watching the scene in front of you. You felt helpless, vulnerable, stupid. You were an agent of the FBI, how could you have let this happen? You choked back a sob, but a whimper left your lips against your will.
At the soft and solemn sound, Spencer’s gaze dashed to you and his eyes were filled with worry. He rushed to you then, cursing himself for not attending to you earlier. He lifted you from the grass, clutching your shaking form against his own.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, his hot breath against your ear.
“Just my pride,” you choked, laughing grimly. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”
His grip on you tightened, his strong hand pulling the small of your back towards him. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. We’re pretty sure he’s the unsub the local police department has been looking into.”
You shuttered at the thought. You felt like one of the victims whose smiling face was on the board in the conference room. You felt weak.
As if Spencer could hear your very thoughts, he whispered against your hair, “It’s not your fault.”
-----
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aphrogeneias · 10 months ago
Text
...right? — one-shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern!au)
summary: you're not sure of where you stand with eddie munson, but you're forced to confront your feelings after almost losing him.
word count: 3k
warnings: fluff and angst with a happy ending. jealous!reader. feelings of self-doubt. eddie munson is a sweetheart.
author's note: this one has been a long time in the making, and it may be a little melodramatic, but i'm doing a lot of self-projecting here, so be nice. thank you to @intrepidacious for reading it for me and giving me your approval <3 i'm sorry to all the girls named emma reading this, but i had to give that character a name.
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We're performing tonight, if you want to stop by.
You'd been staring at this message for a couple of minutes now, unsure of what to do. You seemed to be in this dilemma a lot, as of late — to answer or not to answer, to show or not to show.
Too scared to show how you felt, but too scared to lose him at the same time.
Zoned out, you caught Robin’s hand flying in your direction from your peripheral. “Stop looking at your phone!”
She snatched it from your hand, still open in your conversation with Eddie. Robin whistled when she took a look at your screen, “Oh, I see. How are things with Mr. Headbanger?”
“You're talking to Eddie?” Chrissy chimed in from her side of the bed, lifting herself on one elbow to see you better with Robin between you.
The three of you had been like this all night, spread out on Chrissy’s queen bed, a sequence of old romantic comedies playing on her TV. There was an empty pizza box on her fuzzy carpet, and a half finished bottle of wine next to it, the second of the night.
You groan, trying to get your phone back to no avail. “Things have been… well, I think. Too well. I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Then, it was their time to groan.
Your friends like calling you jaded, but you consider yourself a realist.
It's been a topic of conversation between you for years. Ever since your last relationship ended, after you'd been left for another woman, when you swore off love for good — at first, they thought you were just grieving, it would take time to heal, of course, but you never really did.
You don't think you've ever been anything other than an open wound, in that sense, even before your ex. The high walls that were meant to protect you eventually became a prison you couldn't get out of. A princess and a dragon, all in one.
That is until Eddie Munson came into your life.
No one's ever made you want to drop those walls as much as he does. You'd met him through Chrissy, who’d been his friend since high school, and at first you thought he wasn't really flirting with you. He seemed to always be flirting with everyone, always getting a little too close. Until he asked you out, and you were still not convinced.
It could be a friend date. He could be after one of other friends. Maybe he was just passing time until he found someone better.
That was a few months ago, and Eddie hasn't gone anywhere.
He had a few shirts on your place, merch from various bands which you were growing fond of listening to them in his car. Shirts you would wear to bed when he wasn't spending the night, curling into bed with his smell on you. He'd made friends with your cat, and fixed your coffee in the morning the way you liked it, and left strands of hair loose in your shower.
A brave knight, that Eddie is.
Despite your closeness, and the honesty you see in his eyes whenever you're near him, neither one of you has put a name on what you have. It keeps you up at night, thoughts about calling him your boyfriend and have him laughing at your face. How could you be so stupid?
The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.
“What if that's it, though?” Chrissy interjects, with a gentle voice. Her small hand reached for yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “What if there's no other intentions, no other shoe to drop? You have no reason not to trust him.”
“You say that because he's your friend.”
“Chris is right, babe.” Robin says, sitting straighter on the bed. “He’s never given you any reason to think like that. You need to let yourself go, just this once.”
You sigh, and mumble something along the lines of “Easier said than done,” as you sit up and pull your knees to rest your chin on them.
“You should go, by the way.”
Robin reaches to you with your phone in hand, handling it back to you. Her blue eyes are kind, understanding. Chrissy smiles from her place between you.
“Our local rockstar is waiting for you.”
You respond Eddie with a short omw <3 before your friends are pushing you out of your stupor, and into the street.
They’ve already finished their set by the time you arrive at The Hideout.
You're dressed entirely inappropriate for a dive bar full of metalheads and middle-aged bikers, but you don't let yourself think too much about it because no one really notices you coming in, except for the bouncer who compliments you on your old college sweatshirt.
The night is well beyond starting. The bar is full, and it takes you a while to find Eddie, but when you do, he finds you immediately.
He's at the foot of the stage, talking to his friends. The rest of the band is around too, and you wave at them as Eddie makes his way towards you. The smile that pulls on your lips is uncontrollable when he, with an excited smile of his own, takes you in his arms, wrapping himself around you. “Hi! You just missed the show!”
“I'm sorry! I was at Chrissy’s.”
You take a second to look at him closely. His wild hair is a little damp, and his Accept shirt has the sleeves cut off, which shows more of his tattoos. There's a studded belt on his hips, and you don't think too much before pulling him closer by it.
Eddie kisses you on the forehead, and his lips linger a little bit before pulling away. “Did you tell her I said hi?”
“Forgot to. But next time I'll make sure to send your regards.”
When he's close like this, you almost forget your doubts. When his arm is around your shoulders and he's pulling you close, the smell of his cologne and the last cigarette he smoked before going on stage cling to you, and you cling to it in turn.
“Good, and make sure to arrive on time next time too because we played your favorite and you weren't here.” He pouts dramatically, putting one hand to his chest.
The gasp you let out matches it. “Metal Health? Eddie, no!”
“Eddie, yes!” He shakes you a little, turning you in the direction of the tables. “We played Quiet Riot, and you weren't here to see it. Have to say I'm a little disappointed, sweetheart.”
Walking along with him, you stop when you reach a vacant booth on the corner. Turning to face him fully, you leave a soft kiss on his stubbled chin. “I guess you'll just have to keep playing it, then.”
“Does that mean you'll come to every show?”
There's no space between the two of you, standing chest to chest with each other. The rest of the bar disappears. “I might, if you'll have me.”
“Baby, I'll…”
The bubble you find yourselves in shatters and breaks when Eddie stutters, and turns, because there is someone poking him on the back, disturbing your moment. It's a woman, asking to speak to him.
You don't really register what she's saying. All you know is that you've seen her around before, and you know she's friends with the guys. Eddie apologizes to you as he's being dragged away for a private conversation. “I'll be right back! Don't go far.”
Nodding, you remain frozen in place.
They don't go far, but you can't really tell what they're talking about, but her hand on his forearm, slowly rising to his bicep, tells you everything you need to know.
You don't realize it but you're shaking a little bit, cold sweat prickling through your suddenly frigid skin. There's a ringing in your ears, and a lump growing in your throat, but you can't stop yourself from looking.
He looks beautiful like this. The light from the now empty stage hits his figure from the back, making him look every bit like the rock god he's always aspired to be. The frizz on his hair creates a halo around his head, and you think you might faint.
To his credit, he doesn't get any closer to the girl. Doesn't flirt back. His smile is polite, and he maintains a sensible distance, but that's not enough to ease your mind.
He's only keeping a distance because you're here. Your mind says, always the traitor. You're holding him back. He could be making out with a different girl every night. Maybe he is. Maybe he is and you're none the wiser. Better walk away now. Go, before your heart breaks.
It's already breaking, and you're the culprit.
You almost don't notice Eddie return to you, as your vision’s gone blurry.
“Sorry, Emma wanted to invite me to an after party. Told her I was busy.” There it was, his easy smile again. From a first look, you wouldn't think Eddie Munson smiles so easily, but it's always there, pulling on his full lips and showing off his dimples.
You would smile back, as usual, but it's like your face can't move.
“Just you?” You ask, “Not the rest of the boys?”
He laughs, but there's not much humor behind it. “Just me.”
“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He is still grinning, raising one eyebrow at you, as if taunting you to speak up. Something rotten spreads through your insides, stirring them, rising like bile right through your opened mouth.
“Say what? It's not like we're dating, Eddie."
If regret could kill, you would be dead the moment you saw his face fall. Eddie's expressiveness is a double-edged sword — his happiness was contagious, but when he’s upset, there is nothing that could distract you from the way his bambi eyes plead to you.
You double down anyway, already feeling like a fool, but too stubborn to take back what you said.
"...right?"
“Is that what you think?” He asks, a pout on his pretty lips. “Is that what you want?”
“I… I don't know.” Your mouth is moving, but it's like you don't have control over what you're saying anymore. Like you can't even hear yourself, too taken by the dread that has taken over your body. “I think… What do you think?”
You throw the question back at him because you can't be the first one to say it. Because if he backs out, if you say what you really want — and it's him, he's all you've ever wanted, and the realization hits you like a punch to the gut — and he says it's never been quite like that, that he doesn't want you the same way, that he's just been passing the time, you would break.
Eddie looks away from you, then. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “You're not sure what you want, is that what you're telling me?”
“No! No, it's not like that.” You almost choke on your own spit, “I'm just…”
Scared. Of opening your heart, of rejection, of him leaving when he learns how much you want him, need him.
“If you're not sure of what you want, I think you should take some time to think about it.”
“But, Eddie, I…”
“Think about it, and call me when you know.”
One of his hands goes to your shoulder, squeezing it, and briefly running thumb over the fabric of your sweatshirt. He's turning around before you can stay anything, the lump in your throat too big to allow you to speak.
The room feels like it's turning upside down as you turn the other way, towards the door. It turns and turns on its axis, and you almost lose your balance as you're making your way out. You wave halfheartedly at the bouncer, who waves back at you in the middle of his conversation with a green haired girl.
Walking home, you have time to think of what you'd just done.
As the tears roll freely through your face, and you wipe them with the end of your sleeves, you think of Eddie’s sullen face, once full of life, now transpiring his disappointment in you. You'd let him down, and it was all your fault.
In an attempt to protect yourself, you pushed him away.
You imagine him back at the bar, with the boys. With Emma, ready to console him after what you just did to him. The thought of it just makes you cry harder, trying to control your breathing as you get closer to your apartment.
You did what you always do. Leave first, turn your back, clam up back into your shell. You just never thought you'd do that to him.
It doesn't take long until you spiral.
You did all you could after you got home. Tried to breathe, but it only made you cry harder. Curled up on the couch with your cat, a brown tabby that curled herself right back into you, and cried until there were no tears left. Ignored your friends’ messages on your phone, pretending everything was all right.
Tried to drink, but felt too sad to even open your fridge. Ran into one of Eddie’s hoodies hanging from the back of a chair in your room, and felt more tears coming, but no strength to cry.
Everything in your room reminded you of him — your unmade bed where he'd be lying on if you didn't screw up, the fantasy book he'd let you borrow on your bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you with your arms around each other serving as a bookmark.
You pick your phone, and it rings and rings. He doesn't answer. In a moment of panic, you leave a message instead, pacing through your room on your bare feet, still wearing the clothes you went out in. The cat on your bed follows your movements with her eyes.
“Hi, Eddie. I… You might not even want to hear from me right now, and I get that. Really, I do, but… You just need to know I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to do you like that, I didn't mean to say those things to you.”
Your voice trembles, just like the hand that's holding your phone to your mouth, but you keep going, “Of course we're dating, we've been dating for a while now. I was too scared to say anything because we never put a label on it and I thought you didn't want anything with me, I guess I just didn't want to be the first one to say it in case you decided this wasn't… that I wasn't… what you wanted.”
There's a few seconds pause as you take a deep breath, and release it in an anguished sigh. “What I'm trying to say is… that I like you. A lot. Have since the beginning. And I understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore because of what I just did, but… if you still want to talk, I'm… I'm still here, okay? I'm still here.”
When you're finished, you throw your phone back on your bed, and wait.
You're still pacing around the house, a mug full of tea in hand, when you hear your phone vibrating on your bed. You almost don't pick it up, but you do anyway.
Two notifications from Eddie.
Can I come over?
Are you still up?
Hands shaking, you answer with a simple Yeah. Key’s on the carpet.
The clock on your screen says it's 2:22 AM.
You hear your door opening not too long after that, the spare key turning on the lock, as you're sitting on the couch, writing like a kid that's to be scolded when their parents come home. The mug of tea is half empty at your feet, and now cold, just as your nervous hands as Eddie comes through the door.
Wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, an older one that you've borrowed before, one you know how soft it feels on the skin, he comes in and silently closes the door behind him, leaving the key on a small ceramic plate by it.
You cave in before he can say anything. “I'm sorry.”
Your chin is wobbling again, but you swallow it down, not wanting to make a scene. Eddie comes closer, and sits next to you, careful not to kick the mug that you left carelessly on the floor.
“No, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have told you what you meant to me sooner. You know… I've been calling you my girlfriend to everyone but to the person who matters the most.”
“Everyone?” You repeat, “Everyone who?”
“The guys. At work. Wayne…”
“You told your uncle I'm your girlfriend?” The word feels foreign in your tongue, but not unpleasant. Eddie looks sheepish, but the corner of his mouth twitches and lifts just a bit, one of those dimples you love making an appearance in your dimly lit living room.
“Yeah. Like I said, everyone but the one who matters the most.”
There it is. That earnestness, pouring through him, warming you up from the inside out.
“And I guess… Am I the person you mean?”
“Who else would it be?” He's tilting his head now, kind eyes aimed at you. You huff a weak laugh, them, relief hitting you in waves. Not thinking too much, you throw yourself at him, hugging him by the shoulders, and folding your legs under your thighs to be closer to him.
“I'm still sorry, though. Sorry that I made you think I had doubts, or that I…”
Eddie doesn't let you finish, shushing you with a hand on the back of your head, and another wrapping around your waist, keeping you in place. “It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry too.”
“Since we're both sorry, does anyone have to be sorry at all?” You mumble into his shoulder, taking in his smell through his clothes. It soothes you more than anything can, along with his voice vibrating through his chest, and the warmth of his body clinging to yours.
“I think we can discuss the details in the morning.”
He seals it with a kiss to your temple. You and your boyfriend sleep on that same couch, and in the morning, there is nothing left to say.
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storiesforallfandoms · 5 months ago
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i'd find you in any life ~ eric; a quiet place day one
word count: 3614
request?: no
description: in which two idiots in love find their way back to each other after the end of the world
pairing: eric x female!reader
warnings: swearing, use of y/n, spoilers for aqpdo, mentions of death, mentions of the quiet place aliens, end of the world type beat
masterlist (one, two, three)
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Day One
The little bell over the door chimed to signal the first customer she'd seen in nearly an hour. She stifled an eye roll and bookmarked her novel, only to find it was her favorite customer.
"Hey Eric!"
Eric smiled at her. She was glad to be leaning against the counter because his smile never failed to make her weak in the knees.
"Working hard, or hardly working?" Eric asked, mirroring her leaning position across from her.
"Oh, very clearly working hard," she responded, gesturing to her book. "I'm almost finished my book."
"Very hard work indeed."
(Y/N) chuckled. "Want your usual?"
"Of course. And one of those delicious looking chocolate chip muffins."
(Y/N) playfully salted and went to make Eric's usual coffee order.
Eric had been coming to the coffee shop (Y/N) worked at for months now. He had came in first one morning before one of his classes, in a rush and asking her to make him anything with caffeine as quickly as she could. She quickly made him a coffee and he threw a $20 bill at her, telling her to keep the change. He came back the next day to thank her, and to tell her it was the best coffee he ever had. She made him another and insisted it was on the house.
It was the start of Eric being a regular customer, as well as being the start of his and (Y/N)'s friendship.
Eric watched her work to make his coffee. "You know, one of these days I'll figure out what you do to make such good coffee."
She smiled at him over her shoulder. "It's just coffee! I don't even do anything special with it."
"But it's the best coffee I've had! I can't even make coffee this good."
"I make it with love."
She quickly turned away to pretend she was making his coffee. Really, she was trying to hide the look of embarrassment on her face. The second the words had left her mouth, she regretted it.
Of course (Y/N) had a crush on Eric. You'd be crazy not to. On a surface level, he was extremely handsome. He had the biggest, brownest eyes she had ever seen, the prettiest face, and a smile that made her feel like she was flying. Not to mention that British accent of his, which was way too easy to fall for. And then she got to know him and she found herself falling even deeper in love with his personality. He was the sweetest person she had ever met. She'd be crazy not to develop feelings for him.
The question then, she knew, was why did she never tell Eric how she felt about him?
As kind as Eric was, and as much as she considered him a friend, she knew they weren't meant to be together. Eric was in New York to go to law school. He was going to be a big lawyer, make lots of money and be successful. (Y/N), on the other hand, was in her 20s working in a coffee shop, with no prospects for the future. She didn't know what she wanted in life, but she knew Eric likely wouldn't be a part of it. It was best for him, even if it hurt her.
She poured his coffee into a take away cup and bagged the muffin he asked for. She could barely look at him as she rang in his order. He was looking at her with those big, brown eyes. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to form a coherent sentence if she did.
"Are you on your way to class?" she asked as she took his payment.
"Not for another hour and a half," he replied. "Had to come down to get my coffee first, and was hoping you weren't too busy so I could hang out for a bit."
(Y/N) couldn't fight the smile on her face. "I guess I won't kick you out for loitering."
"As long as I don't get you in trouble."
She scoffed. "Please, you're a paying customer. There's nothing my manager can get upset about. Not that he ever shows up anyways."
Eric paid for his order, and as (Y/N) was getting his change he pulled another $20 bill from his wallet and put it into the tip jar next to the register. (Y/N)'s eyes widened. She grabbed the bill and tried to give it back to Eric.
"That's your tip," he said.
"It's too much, Eric! Just give me your change!"
He shook his head. "You deserve it. I told you, you make the best coffee I've ever had. Not to mention the coffee comes with a side of friendship with a wonderful person."
She tried not to let her smile falter at the word "friends". She knew that's all they were. It was her choice to keep her secrets a secret.
Eric hung around long enough to eat his muffin and drink about half of his coffee. It wasn't until another customer finally came in that they both realized the time and he had to go. (Y/N) said goodbye and Eric promised to come back again the next day. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to her new customer.
Soon, the shop was empty again and (Y/N) found herself missing Eric's presence. Despite being friends, they had yet to exchange phone numbers. Eric had found (Y/N) on social media and asked her if it was okay for him to follow and message her, which of course she said yes. They had messaged back and forth on there, but there was something more intimate about asking for his phone number. Maybe she was just overthinking that. They were already friends, they already spoke outside of when he came to the shop. What harm was there in asking for his number to text whenever they wanted to, and not just when they had internet?
That's it, she thought. I'll do it tomorrow.
(Y/N) was content with her decision, smiling to herself as she was cleaning the coffee machine, when she heard a commotion outside. Through the shop window she could see a crowd forming. She stepped up to the window to see everyone looking at the sky. She followed their gazes to see streaks of light falling from the sky. She thought it was a meteor shower at first, but there was something about it that made her feel off. Like it wasn't just a few space rocks passing over Earth.
She noticed one beam of light was coming closer. Not exactly at her specifically, but close enough for it to be concerning. The crowd in front of the shop suddenly started to move, some of them in a panicked manner. (Y/N) backed away from the window, planning to take cover however she could, but she was too late. There was the sound of an impact a few streets over, followed by rumbling of an aftershock that eventually reached the shop. The last thing (Y/N) remembered was the shop windows exploding and her being thrown back, hitting her head on a nearby table and knocking her out.
~~~~~~
Day 89
"There's a boat coming!"
Eric didn't usually care much to see who was arriving at the island. He was always glad to know that other people had heard and figured out Henri's code to get to safety, but he knew that whoever was coming was not someone for him. He had lost everyone during those first few days - his parents (not that it was ever confirmed, but he knew the likeliness was slim and he'd never get a real confirmation he was sure), Sam.
(Y/N).
There was no reason for him to go watch as new survivors were welcomed to the island, like so many of the others did.
But that day, he was sat outside in the sun eating with Frodo when the call came. Frodo's ears had perked up and, before Eric could stop him, the black and white feline had taken off towards the beach. Eric swore under his breath and got up to follow.
"Even the damn cat is a noisy bugger," Eric muttered to himself.
There was already a small crowd huddled to watch as the small boat coasted onto the island. Henri and a few others were already there, pulling the boat to shore and helping the small handful of survivors off. He was speaking to the first person who had gotten off, a man who shared the same expression that everyone did when they first got there - terror. The confusion and fear of Henri speaking always got to them first, and often times people wouldn't believe Henri when he said that the aliens couldn't reach them because they couldn't survive the water.
Eric was looking for Frodo more than he was paying attention to whoever was getting off the boat. The cat was moving around the people in his way so smoothly, meanwhile Eric had to bump and push his way past everyone, mumbling an apology as he went.
Frodo suddenly ran towards the boat as another person got off. Eric broke through the crowd and chased after Frodo, an apology already on the tip of his tongue for whoever Frodo had ran up to. But the words died before they could come out as he watched the person scoops Frodo up in her arms and look for whoever owned him, her eyes locking on Eric immediately.
"Eric?"
"(Y/N)?"
He was moving before he realized it, his arms around (Y/N) to pull her into a hug. Tears were forming in his eyes as he held her, making sure that she was actually real and not a figment of his imagination.
Frodo grumbled, breaking them apart. He jumped down from (Y/N)'s arms and sat looking between them.
"Is he yours?" she asked.
"Technically yes. He belonged to someone else before, but..." He stopped, the familiar ache in his chest from whenever he thought about Sam. "But he's mine, now."
(Y/N) nodded. She seemed to understand. They had all gone through the same hell, all lost someone. It was hard not to understand.
"Bring her up," Henri said, suddenly appearing next to the two of them. That's when Eric realized that everyone was making their way back to the community. "Unless you both want to keep standing here all day."
Eric shook his head. "No, sorry. (Y/N), come with me."
(Y/N) was shocked upon seeing the community of houses and people, as most survivors are. They were so used to the wreckage that the aliens caused, and all the fear that drove so many into silence, that seeing all these well built houses, and seeing people talking and living without fear, was foreign.
"When was the last time you ate anything?" Eric asked (Y/N). "Or showered? Or had water?"
"A long time," (Y/N) responded to all three questions.
Eric nodded. "I have my own place. Frodo and I were just having lunch, and there's plenty to share. I have a working shower, drinkable water."
"That all sounds perfect," she said. "Lead the way."
Eric showed her to his place. He gave her towels and told her he'd find her clean clothes from one of the other ladies in town. He tried not to linger as she stepped into the bathroom and let the shower run. She'd think he was crazy if she caught him there, debating on going into the shower with her, but it was the only thing on his mind in this moment. Well, besides the desire to kiss her senseless and never let her go again.
Eric had mourned (Y/N). Even before he met Sam and had to mourn her as well, he mourned the coffee shop girl who had became such a good friend to him; who he had loved and never told. When the invasion first started, Eric's first thought wasn't his own survival, but about if (Y/N) had gotten to safety. He had left her in the coffee shop just moments prior, and someone had been with her then, but did that person stay? Did more people come? Was there anyone there to protect her, to get her out? Had she figured out too late that the aliens were attracted to sound?
When he got on the boat to come to the island, he looked at every other survivor that was there with him. He asked around if anyone knew (Y/N), if they knew whether she was there. When they got to the island, he looked at the others who had gotten there first. She was nowhere to be seen, and no one knew of her. He had to come to terms with the fact that she was probably dead, and that made him wish he was, too.
He regretted never telling (Y/N) how he felt. He thought he had lost his chance forever, and that thought haunted him every day. He could hardly believe that she was actually here, that she had survived.
One of his neighbors was gracious enough to give him clothes for (Y/N). He left them outside the bathroom door for her, then went back outside to continue eating. He had gotten the extra food he had planned to put away as leftovers and brought it out for (Y/N) to eat, as well as gotten her a glass of water. Frodo had taken his position hunched over a can of cat food again, eating away as if he were the one who was starved.
(Y/N) came out a few minutes later, her wet hair clinging to her and looking more refreshed. She still looked exhausted, but he knew how long it would take to really get any rest after what she had experienced.
She sat down next to him and picked up the food he had waiting for her.
"Thank you," she said.
"Of course," he responded. "You served me for quite some time. I think it's only fair I finally repay the favor."
She smiled, and he was brought back to every time he visited her coffee shop and was able to make her smile at something he said. It had always been such an accomplishment to him.
They ate in silence for some time. (Y/N) tried to savor the food, but she was so hungry that she couldn't help but scarf so much of it down so quickly. Eric couldn't help but watch her. He was still terrified that she'd suddenly disappear and he'd realize this was all just a dream.
"I can't believe you're here," he said before he could stop himself.
(Y/N) looked up at him. "I can't believe you're here. I thought..."
"Me too."
She moved her plate aside and turned her body so that she was facing him. "What happened that day?"
"I was in the tube - the subway - and suddenly there was all this shaking and rumbling. A pipe or something burst eventually and suddenly the whole place was flooded. I was sure I was a goner, until I managed to get to a stairwell that led up into New York. That's where I first met this guy - " Eric reached over to pat Frodo. " - and I followed him to his owner. She...she's the reason I'm here."
"Did she...?"
Eric swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "She was sick. She told me she made peace with her mortality and was okay with the sacrifice so that Frodo and I could survive."
(Y/N) reached out to place her hand on Eric's. He moved it so that their fingers intertwined. If this had been months ago, he would've been more focused on the fact that he was finally holding (Y/N)'s hand.
"She sounds like a good person," (Y/N) said. "I wish I could've met her."
"Me too," Eric said. "What about you? What happened to you that day?"
"Well, I was at the coffee shop, as you know, and suddenly these...things...I guess the eggs? I don't know, but I watched them fall from the sky. One of them landed a few streets over from the shop and the aftershocks blew the windows out and knocked me out. When I came to, I had been rescued by Stephen, he's the one who got off the boat first. He found anyone who was still alive and brought us to this building to hide us away. He told us to keep quiet, that it was the only way for us to survive. He kept going out and searching for other survivors, or for any resources to keep us alive."
"He didn't take you to the boats?"
She shook her head. "He tried, but there was an attack when we were all trying to get there. We kind of dispersed and all ended up back in the same building. A lot of us didn't make it, and by the time we tried to get out again the boats were gone. We had no idea where they were going, or how to get there since every boat had been taken from the dock it seemed. We settled in to try and fend for ourselves, which we did until we happened to hear a song looping over the radio."
"Beyond the Sea," Eric said. "It was Henri's idea. It was a code to get more survivors to come to safety."
"It worked. It just took some time for us to follow it."
"But you're here now." Eric squeezed her hand. "God, I'm so glad you're here. I thought...I spent every day thinking about you."
"I thought about you a lot, too." There were tears in her eyes now, too. "When I woke up, the first thing I thought was worrying where you were. I wanted so badly for you to have been someone that Stephen saved, and then so much time passed and I thought..."
Eric nodded. "Me too. I really thought you were gone."
It may not have been the most tactful way to do it, but emotions were running high and Eric's brain wasn't particularly working right. He took hold of her face and pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers. It wasn't the best kiss in the world, he would admit. Because he caught (Y/N) off guard, it was more teeth than lips, and he could taste the saltiness of their mixed tears on her lips.
When she pulled away almost immediately, Eric felt embarrassment wash over him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done that without asking first."
To his surprise, (Y/N) moved their plates out of their way before climbing onto Eric's lap. She leaned in slower, giving him more time to register that they were going to kiss again. When her lips touched his this time, it was soft and gentle, but still needy. Like they were both making up for so much lost time, which, he guessed, they were.
They were only interrupted this time by someone yelling, "Hey! There's kids out here! Get a room!"
(Y/N) pulled away, giggling a little as she rested her forehead against Eric's.
"So, it was okay that I kissed you?" he asked.
"I would think me kissing you back was enough of an answer," she said. "But yes, it was very much okay."
"I've wanted to do that since the day after we met."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "The day after?"
"Well yeah. The day we met I was in such a hurry that I didn't have time to really register the fact that a beautiful woman was making me coffee."
"See, that's so funny, because I also wanted to kiss you the day we met, and every day after when you came in for coffee."
"Wait, really?" Her smile was shyer now as she nodded her head. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Well, you were going to school to be a lawyer and you had everything going for you. I was just the girl in a coffee shop who didn't know what she was doing with her life. I thought...I thought it would be better for you if we didn't date, so that you could find someone with the same ambitions as you."
"I'm not saying this now because the world as ended, but fuck me being a lawyer. I didn't care if you were working at a coffee shop, or going to school like I was, or if you were just some homeless person on the side of the road. I loved you for who you were. I still love you for who you are."
(Y/N) was speechless. It was the words she had been longing to hear for so long, even after the world went to shit. She was convinced she was dreaming, or having some sort of alien induced hallucination. She made a mental note to pinch herself later, because if this was a dream she didn't want to wake up any time soon.
"I love you, too."
They went to kiss again, but Frodo meowed and nudged Eric's leg. He chuckled as he reached down to pet the cat. "I guess we shouldn't just be making out in broad daylight after already being yelled at once."
"I suppose not," (Y/N) said. "You know, I am awfully tired still. You should take me in to see your bed."
Eric grinned at her. "I like the way you think."
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lovetei · 11 months ago
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The characters meeting you in their own wedding, and the bride was not you
Warnings: Grammar errors, spelling errors, cheating, sexual implications, readers gender is not mentioned, toxic relationship, yandere themes
Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
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LUCIFER
Lucifer stood tall and proud in his suit while looking in the mirror when his wife came in
"Honey..." His wife lovingly called out as she called her husband
Lucifer turned around to look at her "Why?" He asked "Someone is looking for you." She admitted.
His wife left the door and closed it
But after a few seconds it opened again "Honey..." He called out as soon as he saw your figure.
For once he doubted himself
He doubted this wedding
Because, how come he can never say such sweet words to his wife
But your presence is enough to have such promises and lovely messages roll out his tongue?
MAMMON
"It fucking hurts me." He said as soon as he got some alone time with you.
"It fucking hurts me that I have to spend my everyday," "Shut up." You cut him off as you lit a cigarette for you.
"I have to spend my everyday looking at her," "I said shut up." Your brows furrowed as you opened your lighter
"Looking at her and pretending," "Stop it, Mammon." You closed your eyes and leaned on the wall.
"Looking at her and pretending it was you..." His voice almost came out in a whine.
A whine you so know
A whine he knows he can use to get anything out of you
A known habit between the two of you his wife could never establish with him.
LEVIATHAN
His wife twirled around in her wedding dress with such a look too innocent for a demon
And your past lover gave back a small smile too fake for you not to notice
Her wife then excused herself saying she wants to give the both of you closure
Not knowing her husband wants more than that
"I fucking miss you." Is the only thing he said as soon as his wife left
"Have some decency and keep your mouth shut-" Before you can even finish your sentence
His lips touched yours
And when you tried to break away
His hand behind your head prevented you from doing so
"How about we shut up together? Because I'm pretty sure you won't speak a thing about this even if I drop in my knees right now."
How come you never knew this side of his?
SATAN
"Fighting on your wedding day, are you serious?" You inquired as soon as you entered the room after you saw the bride running off crying.
"She prevented me from seeing you again." He fixed his coat, looking at your reflection through the mirror.
"If I told you not to see her anymore will you listen to me?" You asked wanting to say to he should give the same respect to his bride.
"Yes, hell, I'll break this marriage and run away with you if you just tell me you love me again."
It surely didn't go as planned though
Considering how you can see his wife peeking from the slightly opened door
ASMODEUS
He insisted to come with you when you were choosing your dress as the brides maid
"Can you please have her check this? Thank you." He pointed at a long white gown making you confused.
But you got even more confused with how the staffs look at each other
So while they're helping you wear it, you asked them "What's wrong?" and their answer is
"It's the same dress the bride will be wearing..." They answered just before the curtains opened and you turned around
"I knew it'll look better on you..." He commented with such love sick eyes.
BEELZEBUB
He looked at you for one last time before the ceremony starts and he completely be tied away from you
"I love you." He simply said as he looked at you with a soft loving gaze.
"Please stop." You almost covered your ears.
"You still love me too, don't you?" He asked innocently.
"Come on, say it. Say it and I'll run away from this place with you." He contracted and he smiled.
He smiled when he saw you gulp and open your mouth with a blush.
BELPHEGOR
"How come you're still not mine..." He asked himself.
It was the night before his wedding and he asked you to meet him in your usual spot
And now
He's on his knees sobbing apologies out
"No no no... How come I'm not yours..?" He rephrased his question as he stood up.
"Why didn't you fight for me?!" He shouted as tears continued to flow out of his eyes.
You smirked
Maybe this punishment for kissing another girl is enough
You picked up your phone and called someone, putting it on loud speaker
"Break off the marriage." You ordered and the familiar voice, his wife, on the other line didn't even hesitate and said yes immediately.
You grabbed his jaw and made him look at you "This is why you always listen to me when I told you not to do something, okay?" You asked.
He just nodded dumbly "Fuck... Fuck... I'm yours now..." He whimpered as he hugged you tight, almost wanting to merge with you.
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 8 months ago
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okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.
ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.
reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.
a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.
so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍
HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕
Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao
Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Part 2
Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.
Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)
A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.
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You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.
They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.
You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.
When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.
“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.
“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”
“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”
She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”
“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”
“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”
“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”
Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.
“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”
“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”
“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.
Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.
Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.
After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.
“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.
“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”
“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”
“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.
“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”
You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.
“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.
“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”
He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.
“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”
“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.
“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”
“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.
“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”
“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”
“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.
“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”
“I’d like that.”
Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.
Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.
“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.
“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.
“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”
“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.
“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.
“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”
“Sure.”
Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.
“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”
“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.
“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.
Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.
“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.
“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.
“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”
“Sure!”
Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.
“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.
“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.
“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”
He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.
He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.
“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.
“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.
“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.
“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.
“You sure?”
“Mhm.”
Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.
“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.
“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”
He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”
“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.
“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.
He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.
He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.
“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.
He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.
That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.
“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”
“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”
“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.
“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.
“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.
“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”
“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.
Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.
“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”
You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.
“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.
“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”
“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.
It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.
“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”
“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.
Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.
He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.
“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.
It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.
“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.
You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.
He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.
He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.
“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.
You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.
“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”
He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”
“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”
“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”
“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.
“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.
“I won’t.”
You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.
“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.
“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”
Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.
“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.
“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.
When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.
‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’
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