#i’m working every single day until Next Sunday

[wibble-wobbegong]

5 seconds from body slammjng my boss. no i wont leave the 500 dollar festival i requested time off for months in advance to work for two and a half hours. no your $25 dollar bribe doesn’t change anything. why am i working a six hour shift on the only day of the week i Dont work. im gonna kill you

[catbureau]

It’s so funny like all day today I was thinking that finally I feel well rested and awake and good like I can do anything and suddenly now people are concerned

[stunie]

Zevie it is I, the maid cafe anon once again coming to you to request more cute(or lewd, it’s your choice like fr) maid cafe content.

Maybe they show up when it’s like a day for a different costume(OH MY GOD A PLAYBOY BUNNY OUTFIT DAY??? A CUTSIE ANIMAL ONESIE DAY??? CHEONGSAM DAY??? MAGICAL GIRL DAY???????) or literally ANYTHING, whatever inspires you.

The only characters I’ll specifically ask for are kiryu, suo, and Kaji if possible!!!!!

ANYWAYS REMEMBER TO TAKE IT EASY AND HAVE A SNACK AND REST MWAH MWAH -🐌

WELCOMMEEE !! u r now snail anon and no longer maid cafe anon !! i hope u and the others r comfy here ໒꒰ྀི ˃ ∩∩ ˂ ꒱ྀི১ <3 i made this sfw <: also pls im gonna share my snack with you (it’s a mango roll cake!)

hayato suo, kiryu mitsuki, & kaji ren x maid cafe!f!reader

sfw. ft. costumes (animal onesies), you call them ‘master’

HAYATO SUO gives you an all-too-warm smile when you’re shyly handing him a menu, tensing when his fingers briefly brush over the paws of your onesie.

“a kitten? how cute,” he teases, hand coming to cheerfully rub at the top of your head. it was only your second week since you’ve started your job here, and yet he’s made it very clear that he’d be paying you a visit every single shift.

a part of you wishes he had never found your cafe’s instagram, where they uploaded each week’s theme on sundays without fail. you can only imagine how ecstatic suo must’ve been when he saw what was scheduled for today— because he was stepping through the door only fifteen minutes into the start of your shift.

“c-can i get you anything else, master..?” you stammer, eyebrows deeply furrowed in embarrassment as you hug the extra menus to your chest. he’s only chuckling at your nerves, back of his hand coming to mask his laugh as you give him your best attempt at a glare. “you’re not supposed to laugh,” you whisper through your teeth, “stop being like that..!”

“oh, sorry,” your shoulders relax a bit when his laughter dies down, and he’s smiling back at you all over again. “then i’ll just have you stay beside me until i’m done with my tea. that won’t be a problem, right?”

KIRYU MITSUKI’s mouth parts open in surprise when you come to serve him his food, cute little bear ears sticking out from the hood as you set down his plate in front of him.

“this is your omelette, master!”

“oh, thank you,” his voice comes out soft, but he’s tugging you by the little bear tail at the back of your outfit as soon as you turn to check on your next table, “but don’t leave just yet.”

your head turns back, gaze shifting back and forth between his hand and his face. “..is something wrong?”

he doesn’t respond.

you sigh when he still doesn’t let go of your tail, not even looking at you as his free hand comes to click at his screen. “wait just a couple more seconds…” he says, scrolling through his apps. “ah..! here it is. okay~”

some of the other visitors are turning their heads to look at you as soon as they hear his chair abruptly scooting backwards, body leaning back a bit to angle his phone’s camera towards you with a content hum.

“k-kiryu!” you huff under your breath when you realize exactly what he’s doing, “that’s so embarrassing..!”

he only chuckles in response. “but you look so cute,” he coos, “smile nice and big for me, okay?”

KAJI REN’s lollipop falls out of his mouth as soon as he sees you dressed up in a bunny onesie, one ear flopping over your face when you do a little bow to greet him and the two standing behind him.

“oh, it’s kaji’s girl working today! what a nice surprise, huh kaji?” you hear enomoto’s voice loud and clear, followed by a loud ‘tch’ from your boyfriend.

those two— enomoto and kusumi— didn’t say a single word about this. he was wondering just exactly what they were snickering about so loudly earlier before they were suddenly at his side to ask if they could stop by your cafe before heading home.

something about a deal on coffee? he can’t believe he actually fell for that.

“oh, kaji!” you gleam, lips tugging into a huge smile. “oops— i meant master. your table is over here. follow me.”

he’s clenching his jaw in place of his lollipop, eyes narrowed into a deep scowl in his attempt to dissipate the blush rising to his cheeks. you looked cute, big ears flopping up and down with each step you take, and you’re practically drowning in the excess fabric.

did they not have your size?

“oh,” enomoto interrupts his train of thought, and he turns to see him and kusumi are suddenly checking their phones, the weather app- specifically. “we gotta leave, actually. we’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

and they’re gone just like that.

[inuyashaluver]

hi hi!! can i request a mlt one where she meets single parent reader, they fall in love and then reader + kid go to her games to support her!!!

my girls - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which maya practices at a park and your daughter steals her ball, when you go to apologise, the both of you are star struck

warnings: so. long. swearing

a/n: ITS MAYA BABY!!! thanks so much for the request, hope you enjoy, got a little carried away, whoopppss❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, maya have to thank your daughter, ellie for your introduction to each other.

you always knew you wanted to be a mother, and so, at 20, you decided to go to a clinic and become one alone.

sure it was hard to balance the baby and work as a physio, but the continual support of your friends and family made it worthwhile. and your daughter, was one of the best things that happened to you, and you couldn’t help but say maya was one of the best things that happened to you as well, maya feeling exactly the same.

ellie, was in her ‘terrible-twos’ stage, all round meaning she was a little shit at the moment. she was a mini you, your attitudes and mannerisms completely passing onto her, she was definitely your daughter, something that your clients loved to tease you about as she sat in on their appointments.

you had recently discovered that your daughter had quite a fascination with balls, specifically, soccer balls. everytime you put on a football game, your daughter stares at the screen in front of her, completely entranced and copying their every move. you can’t help but think maybe you’ve got a future, famous footballer on your hands.

—

one day, you had taken ellie to the park on an early, sunday morning. the air was crisp, you and your daughter were completely bundled up amongst the cold, matching red noses and cheeks prominent on your features. walking hand and hand, you take her towards the equipment, watching her every move.

“mummy, look!” ellie giggles, going down the small slide, dressed like a small snowman. “wow, baby!” you exclaim, lifting her in the air and pecking her pink cheeks repeatedly, her little giggles bringing a big smile to your face. you hold her hand around the equipment, pushing her on the swing, playing on the playground with her, whatever she wants.

you watch her play, a bright smile evident on her face, until you see her face light up and she bolts away from you. your eyes widen, she’s running towards a girl on the field next to the equipment. she’s wearing a hoodie and shorts, her hair tied into a loose ponytail, she dribbles the football up and down the field, doing her own drills.

all you kept thinking as you ran was: “when did my child become this fast? i need to put her in football” you chase after her, “ellie, no!”, she continues to sprint towards the mysterious girl, finally stopping in front of her and pointing at the ball. the girl looks down at her surprised, “oh! hello, little one, is your mummy around?”, ellie looks up at her with awestruck eyes, nodding her head slowly at the girl's words. she continued to point at the ball that was stopped under the girl’s foot, “do you want this?”, ellie didn’t speak, just nodded her head.

at this point, you were lightly jogging, carefully watching the interaction between the two. the girl lightly kicks the ball towards ellie, ellie grabs it with her hands and sits on the ground, the older girl quickly sitting down cross legged in front of her. “what’s your name?” the girl questions softly, “ellie” she gives her a toothy grin, “hi, ellie, i’m maya” she returns the grin. “ellie!” you finally reach them, absolutely breathless. you stand with your hands resting on your thighs, breathing laboured and difficult, staring at the ground.

“i’m so sorry about her, she really loves football and-” you look up from the ground, looking at one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen. “hi” maya breathes out, she thought you were absolutely breathtaking. “hi” you reply shyly, kneeling in front of her, hands on ellie’s small shoulders. “what did mummy say about strangers?” you quirk your brow at the small girl in front of you, she just looks at you with a guilty smile.

“stranger danger!” she exclaims, you nod your head in response, “yes, good girl!”, you weren’t too caught up in the interaction, the girl in front of you seeming trustworthy. “but mummy, she’s pretty” she pouts up at you, your cheeks go slightly pink, “yes she is pretty, but still a stranger” maya in front of you stared on with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “oh, sorry! i’m maya” she cautiously sticks her hand out, you immediately take it and gently shake her hand, “(y/n), and ellie, obviously” maya nods her head with a smile.

“now, ellie, we’re not strangers, so it’s okay” ellie makes a small noise of understandment before focusing her attention back on the ball in front of her. “not to be rude or anything, but how old are you? you seem very young to be a mum” she asks, scared she may have offended you, “no, you’re not being rude at all, i’m 22, young but worth it, i think” you shrug with a giggle, maya smiles at you brightly, “ah, i see”, “and how old are you, maya?” you question, “i’m 21” you nod your head, both of you just softly smiling at each other.

the attraction you felt for each other was obvious, both of you wanted to get to know each other better. “sorry if this is weird, but um” she scratches her neck sheepishly, “would you like to, maybe go for a coffee, only if you have time of course!” she rushes her words, not even stopping for a breath. you can’t help but smile at her shyly, “i’d like that”, she returns your shy smile, it only grew when your daughter rolls the ball over to maya expectantly, all of you could sense a special connection forming.

all of you had walked to a nearby coffee shop, ellie holding onto your hand tightly as you walked. you engaged in small talk with maya, conversation flowing so smoothly, you felt as though you’d known each other your whole lives. when you’d found a table, ellie insisted that she sat next to maya, tightly gripping her hand. maya smiles at her so brightly, your heart soared.

“so what do you do?” maya questions, slowly stirring the sugar into her coffee cup. “i’m a physiotherapist” you say cheekily, grinning at her brightly. “wow! that’s awesome!” you giggle at her words, “nah, not really” you wave your hand at her, “and what do you do?” you lean forward, resting your head on your clasped hands.

she gets slightly nervous at your closeness, “um, i’m a football player” you widen your eyes, “no way!” you exclaim, she winces at your volume, putting her hand over your mouth. “mummy, shhhhhh!” ellie holds her finger up to her mouth, the two of you look down at her, giggling profusely.

“sorry, that’s amazing, maya! for what club?” she smiles shyly, “manchester united” ellie whips her head from her colouring page, “mummy!” she grunts, opening her mouth but she can’t get her words out, but you know what she’s saying. “her favourite club” you grin, maya looks down at her with a bright smile, “you’re a smart girl, ellie” she laughs when your daughter nods her head, she gently pats the top of it before turning her attention back on you.

the rest of the day went exceptionally well, you’d spent at least 4 hours with maya and only wanted more, but your daughter fast asleep in her arms meant it was time to go home. maya walks you to your car, placing ellie into her car seat and doing her seatbelt up. “you’ve done this before” you give her a surprised grin, “cousins” she shrugs cheekily, standing in front of you. she’s slightly taller than you, so you look up at her slightly with a smile.

“i’d love to see you again” you say, lightly squeezing her arm before letting go. her breath hitches at your action, “me too,” she breathes out, your smile brightens, you grab your phone from your pocket, she does the same and you exchange numbers. “you know, you a physio, me a footballer, match made in heaven, don’t you think?” you give her a light slap on her arm, your smile never ceasing, “you know, i think you’re right” you match her energy. she pulls you into a tight hug, lasting for a couple before she reluctantly pulls away.

“see you around?” maya questions, lightly gripping your hand, you give it a gentle squeeze, “absolutely.”

—

and you did see her again, you started dating after about 4 dates. your relationship was pure, loving and genuine. you’d been dating for about a year and a half, it couldn’t have been any better. you and maya absolutely loved each other, positively head over heels. it also helped that ellie was absolutely obsessed with the girl, her face lighting up everytime she walks through the door. she eventually moved in, it might have seemed quick but it just felt right.

you’d managed to get a job at manchester united as one of their physios. maya always made an excuse to come and see you.

“baby, my hamstring is playing up” you look up to see your girlfriend leaning on the doorframe with crossed arms. you shake your head at her gently, gesturing for her to lie down. you get up to examine her, lightly helping her stretch, maya always sending you smirks when your hands roamed over her body, clearly different from your regular client consultations.

“okay, baby, you’re good” you grab her hands to pull her up but she just pulls you down on top of her, “baby, no” she whines out, “it hurts” she pouts at you. you laugh at her expression, giving her a quick kiss on her lips, maya’s hand immediately going to the back if your neck and holding you there, deepening the kiss. you hum into her when her hands move up your shirt before you pull away, you knew you’d get walked in on knowing your luck.

“sorry, baby, i don’t want you getting in trouble” you breathe against her lips, quickly pecking them one more time before moving off her and going back to your desk.

“you’re no fun” she huffs out, a scowl evident on her face before she gives you a quick kiss on your lips, going to walk out of the room back to training. “i love you” you sing out, she shakes her head at you, “yeah, yeah, i love you too” she sticks her tongue out at you and you return the gesture.

—

it was game day for manchester united, a grand final in fact. you and ellie had been hyping maya up, telling her that she would do amazing. the girl was convinced you weren’t watching the match, you told her you’d be working in the back in case anything happened, in reality, you had a little surprise up your sleeve for your special girl.

you and ellie sat in the friends and family section, wearing your ‘le tissier’ jerseys, matching grins plastered on your face. “you excited, ells?” you remark at your daughter's bright face, her eyes focusing on the pitch in front of her. she nods her head enthusiastically, “where’s may may?” (a nickname she loved to call maya), she sits on your lap, looking around in search of your girlfriend. “she’s coming, lovey, we need to be patient” you coo, gently hugging the small girl on your lap. she nods in understanding, playing with your fingers and rings.

surely enough, the girls started coming out, you and ellie cheering loudly when you see your favourite girl. maya hadn’t seen you both yet, she was so focused you watch maya with a proud smile, watching her stern expression as she high fives the opposition, taking her position. ellie was so focused, you couldn’t believe how stimulated she was. the game was intense, but manchester united managed to secure the win.

the girls and the crowd cheer loudly, ellie screaming and jumping on the chair, you hoist her up on your waist so she can get a better look. ella sees you first, her eyes widening and immediately rushing to get maya. the girl drags her over to your direction, maya immediately perks up and sprints over to you, bundling the both of you up into a tight embrace. “my girls!” she exclaims, “le tissier jerseys, huh?” she smirks, giving ellie a loving kiss on her head until she turns to you, pupils wide and kissing you passionately, pulling away when she feels a little hand on her cheek.

“my mummy, may may” she frowns, “ellie, we share mummy, darling” she explains, giving the girl another kiss on her cheek. she lets out a little squeal, you laugh at the interaction. kissing both of them on the cheek. she takes ellie from you, holding her on her hip and talking to you until she gets called to receive her medal.

“can i take her?” maya looks at you cheekily, you laugh and nod, watching them both walk over to the podium, maya puts the medal on ellie’s neck, taking her quickly to the rest of the team, all of them excited to see her. you have access to the pitch, you walk on and take numerous photos.

they hoist up the trophy, celebrating with one another. maya runs over to you with ellie hand in hand, both of them with matching grins. maya lifts her up again, you gently take the medal off ellie and drape it over maya’s neck, “congratulations, beautiful” giving her a quick kiss on her and ellie’s cheek, ellie seems to doze off in the girls arms, maya finally gets to kiss you the way she wanted, leaving you absolutely breathless. she loved her girls. and you definitely loved yours.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

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mayaletissier: my best girls, love you to bits

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yourname: you’re the cutest, i love you

↳ mayaletissier: milf

↳ yourname: WOW OKAY

↳ mayaletissier: my ultimate, dream milf

↳ yourname: maya.

↳ mayaletissier: sorry

read part two here!! [part 2]

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?” you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

[olivia2arsenal]

Lia Walti x Williamson! Reader - Everton

a/n: did say my other fic would be out on sunday but life’s just got really hectic so here’s a smaller one while i finish up with the other one

warnings: none!

————————————

i’ve known wally since forever, her and my older sister, leah, have been best friends since i could remember

just like my sister i had worked my way through the age ranks at arsenal before eventually making my debut at 18

i played along side leah as the cb duo and learnt so much off my older sister

there is a massive gap in our age difference between us two but that’s never really been a problem and if anything made our friendship stronger

wally and i had been seeing each other, much to leah’s dismay, off and on for a few months a couple of years ago before i eventually found the nervous and asked her to be my girlfriend

that’s how we found ourselves here today in a two year relationship and happy as ever

“i’ve got a bad feeling about today” wally said as she came and sat herself in my cubby, myself just finishing getting ready to go out into the tunnel

i knocked my knee against hers

“you’ll be fine wally, what’s making you feel like that?” i asked softly as i slipped my match shirt on

“someone’s going to get injured today” she shook her head, i placed my hand into hers and nudged her chin to look at me

“if it’s really distracting you then tell jonas and i’m sure you can sit this one out” i said softly as she shook her head

“it’s too soon until the match kicks off, i’ll be fine” she said as she pushed herself up and out of my cubby, making her way to the changing rooms door

yet she was far from fine…

—————

i remember every single detail of the injury

we were in the second half, lotte and me as the centre backs because leah was out with an injury

everton were on the outskirts of the box when lia pushed out too apply pressure

i watched her get the ball and start to dribble before aggies went studs up into her ankles

i winced at the tackle, wally immediately collapsing to the floor and letting out a scream

i was still far back from eveyone and could see everything going on, i watched how lotte and katie push aggie while other shouted at her

i got it, if it was another day with a player that wasn’t so young i probably would have done the exact same thing

but this was different, aggie was still learning, she didn’t mean the tackle and clearly was inexperienced

i’ve played with aggie at england and she’s the nicest person ever, she didn’t purposely mean to hurt lia and was just eager to prove herself

i also knew that she was most likely going to receive a lot of hate on social media from this

of course the first thing i wanted to do was make sure lia was alright but i had to make sure aggie was okay and take her away from this situation

i pushed katie and lotte out of the way while also pushing the few others that were letting their anger be known from their words

they had every right to be mad, as a team we were already struggling with injuries and this was another one added to the list

i wrapped my arm around aggie’s shoulder

“come on” i said sofltly as i walked her away from the situation, i could see the tears building up in her eyes as we separated ourselves from the massive group near the box

“i didn’t mean to y/n” she shook her head as she bent down and covered her face

“ay i know aggie, i know” i said as i pulled her back up and pulled her into a hug

“it’s a learning experience okay, wally will be okay and the girls are just caught up in the moment” i reassured her as i felt her nod against my shoulder

“you’re eager to prove yourself, that’s it, you weren’t purposely going for her ankle okay” i added as one of her teammates walked over and smiled gratefully at me

i let her take over as i jogged back over to wally, now my whole attention was on her

“where the fuck have you been?” katie snapped as i bent down next to lia and held her hand, trying to get her to take some of the pain relief

“not the fucking time katie” i said sternly back as lia looked up at me, my face softening when i saw her looking for reassurance in my eyes

“we will get through this together love” i said softly as i brushed some hair out of her face

“lia we are going to have to put you on a stretcher” the physio said as they started to move her onto the stretcher, wally wincing as they did

eventually they lifted her up on the stretcher and started to walk her to the tunnel, fans clapping for wally

aggie received a red card, as expected, and started to make her way to the tunnel- head down clearly still upset from it all

i patted her on the back as she passed me before the match continued, now having to fight the mental battle of wanting to go and see lia

————

i burst into the medical room where wally was, her eyes shooting up to mine and face softening once she saw it was me

“careful you’ll take the door of its hinges” she teased as i made my way over to her, eyes never leaving her ankle

“fuck wally” i muttered as she placed her hand under my chin and moved my eyes to hers

“i’ll be fine” she said softly as there was a knock on the door, both of us turning to the door

“hey, is it okay if i come in?” aggie asked as she popped her head into the room

“of course” wally smiled softly at her

“i just wanted to say sorry, i really never meant to hurt you” aggie apologised as she walked over

“i know you didn’t, i know you eager to prove yourself that’s all” lia reassured her softly

“that’s exactly what y/n said to me” aggie laughed slightly

“great minds thing alike” wally teased

“well i’ll leave you two alone, i just wanted to say sorry” aggie said while wally nodded with a soft smile

i walked aggie to the door, patting her on the shoulder and praising her for how mature she had been with the whole thing

i turned back around once she left and made my way back to wally, finding her hand with mine as we talked- trying to distract ourselves from her injury

“i’m proud of what you did today” wally said softly to me as i gave her a puzzled look

“instead of doing what the rest of the girls did, you looked after aggie and made sure she was okay before you came to me” wally said as she squeezed my hand gently

“i was once in her shoes, having done the exact same thing with the exact same reactions from the other players and it didn’t feel nice at all” i said shaking my head at the memory of when i was younger only just starting my professional career

we could only hope the hate aggie received online was going to be small…

—————————————

a/n: hope you all liked this, it was short but just wanted to get something out quickly!

[damiansgoodgirll]

i felt like i needed to write this as this is basically what it’s going on in my life with the guy i’m dating

damian priest x reader

reader is in her twenties! we need the age gap cause me and my “bf” have a huuuge age gap lol

fool me once

“i’m dating someone else…i just wanted to let you know” was what he texted you when you first met.

it pained you a little but in reality you didn’t even know him so you agreed of just staying friends.

he was happy about that, he liked you but not in the way you liked him back. you prayed every night you were the girl between his arms, you prayed he wouldn’t take that long to answer your text messages and you prayed every night that he would realise what he was really missing.

yes, you were friends and you liked the idea of having him in your life, even if he wasn’t your boyfriend.

in the end, he was a good person and you preferred having him as a friend than not having him at all.

one beautiful day he texted you that it was over. the girl he was dating was gone and that he was now more comfortable in seeing you.

you should have said no. you knew it wasn’t right for him to make you the second option but the crush you had for him was too strong and your brain couldn’t say no.

you agreed on that date. and everything went perfectly. he took you out for dinner, he paid for you, he took you to the cinema, he gently kissed you when he brought you back home.

everything was good.

and silently, in your mind, you finally said “fuck, something good is finally happening to me…”

you texted each other every single day and secretly you loved the attention he was giving you.

your friends didn’t like him. they said he was bad news. maybe because he was older than you, maybe because he chose you as his second option and not his first one or maybe because he was only using you in trying to forget her.

you knew all they said was true. deep down, you knew it but you didn’t want it to be real. you felt too good and too safe when you were with him that you thought for a second that all of your friends were jealous of you.

so a second date happened.

it was better than the first one.

he took you out of town on a beautiful but cold sunday night, you went to an amazing restaurant where he paid for you and let you enjoy your time together. the ride back home was amazing, you talked, you laughed and joked and before letting you go, he kissed you again, and again, this time it was more passionate and sensual and if it wasn’t for him, who had a show next monday, you would have invited him in.

you promised him that on the third date you would have offered him dinner.

a third date that never came.

you waited for him to remember it but when you got tired of waiting, you simply asked him. he said he was busy with work and in all honesty, you believed him.

he was a busy man, why would he lie?

he had a full career, a full time job. he was a grown ass man with his life and compared to him, you were just a girl in your twenties who’s in reality is a complete mess. you didn’t have a home to call 100% yours, you had only three real friends and you were always so busy that you barely see each others.

that’s when you realised how different you were.

you knew something was wrong the moment his text messages became slow, like he wasn’t texting you but just replying to your questions.

it came to a point where you got tired of that situation and asked him what was wrong.

“you know the girl i was daring before i met you…she came back…she told me she was sorry, that she knew she fucked up everything…i didn’t see her yet because i was not in the right mood but this made me think…” he texted you.

you felt your heart break.

everything was so good until it wasn’t.

you expected him to say that everything was fine, that he was just busier than usual, or maybe that he didn’t like you anymore. you were ready for that outcome. you weren’t ready to hear about her.

not what you imagined. not what you expected.

you knew, from the way he talked about her that he liked her…that he still likes her…and you knew that if he had to choose, he would choose her.

why would he choose you when you weren’t his first choice in the beginning?

“can we please talk about it? do you want to talk about it?” you texted him. you needed to know what he was thinking about the whole situation.

“not really…”

“okay…” you texted back “just to let you know, damian, i’m here in case you wanted to talk”

“i appreciate that…i just need time” he replied.

time.

time for what?

time for what when you already knew he would choose her.

you weren’t supposed to cry for him because he never was yours to begin with but you still cried. you cried every night before falling asleep. you cried when you saw he wasn’t replying to your text messages anymore. you cried because for the first time in your life you felt safe in someone’s presence.

and it wasn’t fair.

for you. knowing you would have given him all.

you’re still hoping that he would choose you, because, in the end, you didn’t make him suffer, you didn’t make him cry. you hoped that he valued those things.

he texted you good morning on a random tuesday morning and that little message made you hopeful.

of course, you texted him back, asking him if everything was okay.

it’s been three days and you’re still waiting for his response.

to be continued…

(if he answers)

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

The Monster of Wolf Woods | Part One

Summary: a love story of a muggle and a werewolf

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Remus hating on himself

A/N: this is the start of a two part (possibly more if people like it) story to please the David Thewlis hyperfixation my brain currently has. Hope you enjoy! as always spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

- - - - -

I’d never paid much attention to the moon, other than the occasional glance up to admire it’s beauty on a dark night. I’d never stopped to consider the danger that lurked beneath it. That is until I met Remus. 

I work in a small independent book shop in the middle of a small independent village. No one really knows this village exists aside from the people who live here and there are only around 300 or so of us. I was working in the bookshop the day I met Remus. It’s not very often you meet new people in this village when so he walked into the shop I felt my heart jump with excitement. His gentle nature, kind smile and enthusiasm for books caught my attention and I quickly developed a crush on him. I kicked myself for not asking for his number as I watched him leaving the shop, thinking I’d blown my opportunity and that I’d never see him again. 

To my surprise (and relief) he came back the following day. And the day after that. And the day after that. 

He came back to the shop every single day for almost a week, each time buying a new book before talking to me for at least an hour about the book he’d purchased the previous day. It was like we’d started our own little book club. 

“Well lovely chatting you as always. I’ll see you tomorrow.” he said on the Saturday as he turned to leave the shop. 

“Actually we’re closed on Sundays.” I replied regretfully, half considering opening up the shop just for him. 

“Oh” he responded disappointed, thinking for a moment “Well I guess you’ll have to let me take you out somewhere else then.”

“Like, a date…?” I tested, feeling butterflies as I waited for his answer. 

“If that’s okay with you.” He suddenly sounded nervous. “You don't have to of course, if you’d rather not-”

“Remus” I said gently, interrupting him before he had a chance to fully spiral. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

“You- you want to?” The hope in his eyes melted my heart. 

“I’ve wanted to since the day you first walked in.” 

The next day we met up outside the closed bookshop. He brought flasks of coffee and together we walked through the village and shared stories about our lives with each other. He told me about how he spent the past year working as a teacher at some private boarding school but recently moved back to the area after having enough of dealing with ‘rich overbearing parents’. I told him how I’d moved to this village 6 months ago after splitting with my ex, opening up to him about the awful way I’d been treated which explained why I wanted a fresh start in the middle of nowhere. 

We’d become so distracted in our conversation that I didn’t even realise how far we’d walked until we arrived at the edge of the forest. 

“Everything alright dear?” He asked, noticing my hesitation to follow him. 

“This is the entrance to wolf woods.” I say and he nods. “Did you mean to bring us here?” 

The forest wasn’t really called wolf woods, that’s just the nickname given to it by the locals because if you listen into the night when the moon is full you can almost hear the sounds of a wolf howling. No one had ever actually seen a wolf, but the villagers still would never get near just in case. 

“I must admit I got so caught up listening to your story I lost track of where we were going. I didn’t mean to bring you so close to the forest. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Oh no, I’m not scared!” I say with a smile and he looks at me confused.

“But the wolf lives here.”

“I’ve read a lot about them and I think they’re beautiful and misunderstood creatures. I’m more concerned that if there is a wolf living in these woods then two humans walking into its home might startle it and make it feel unsafe.” When I looked at Remus I swear I saw a tear in his eye. “Are you okay?” 

“I’ve never heard mugg-” he corrected himself “person talk so kindly about a monster before.” 

“I don't believe they’re monsters. But even if they were, everyone deserves kindness…” I say, taking a step to close the gap between us.” …everyone deserves love.” 

Remus suddenly leant down and kissed me, taking my breath away, before pulling away flustered. 

“Sorry, I don't know what came over me-” he starts breathlessly but I grab his face and pull him in for another kiss, this one lasting longer as we both melted into each other. 

That was the first of many kisses I shared with Remus as we started seeing each other. As the months went by I noticed a trend in his behaviour. Once a month he’d be gone for a couple of days on what he jokingly referred to as a ‘super secret work trip’ but would never actually go into detail about. When I tried to ask him more about these trips or even what he did for work the conversation would always go elsewhere. He would often come back from these trips with cuts and bruises that he’d try to hide from me. His energy would be low and though he’d try to put on a happy face I could tell he was down. 

After one particularly bad trip where he came back using a cane to help him walk I sat him down on the sofa in my living room and pulled up a chair to sit in front of him as I asked him for the truth. He gave me a sad smile, and started to explain everything. I sat and listened, occasionally asking a question to help me understand, while he told me about magic and wizards and muggles and Hogwarts. It amazed me to find out this whole other world existed right under my nose. It also terrified me a little to learn of someone he referred to as ‘the dark lord’, but Remus assured me that we’d be safe. 

“So… you're a wizard?” I asked and he nodded. I smiled. “That’s pretty cool.” 

“There’s more.” His face turned serious as he took my hand. He breathed deep and I could tell he was afraid of what he had to say next. “There is a wolf that lives in the forest. But he’s not beautiful like the wolves you’ve read about in your nature books. This one really is a monster. And I’m really hoping that you meant it when you said everyone deserves love because-” he stopped, trying to calm himself with another deep breath. “Y/N…”

“It’s okay.” I said, squeezing his hand tighter as he started to cry. 

“It’s not okay, it’s not!” He cries and I placed one hand on his cheek, wiping tears away with my thumb as they rolled down past his scars. “I can’t-”

“You can Remus. Nothing that you say will change the way I feel about you.” I gently guided his face so I can look into his eyes. “Look at me. You can tell me.” 

He removed my hand from his face, placing it with my other hand in his. 

“I’m a werewolf.” He says, looking down to fix his gaze on where our hands are intwined. “When I was a child a vicious werewolf broke into our family home and attacked me while I was sleeping and ever since then I have been cursed to transform into something I hate every full moon. There’s a bunker near my cottage in the forest that I lock myself in but the wolf is loud and sometimes the villagers hear me. Thankfully no one has ever been brave enough to go searching the woods and hopefully they never will. For years I’ve been planting ideas in the muggle’s heads. The right words said to the right people at the right time and before you know it the whole village has been warned to stay clear of the dangerous creature in the forest. They have no idea its really me. I am the monster of wolf woods.”

My hands slip from Remus’ as he leans back in his chair, letting out a breath as he watches me with worry in his eyes, trying to work out what I’m thinking. Silently I stand up from my seat and Remus’ worry turns to panic. 

“I understand completely if this is too much, if you don't want to see me-” he starts babbling but I cut him off as I sit down on the sofa next to him, putting my arm around him to pull him into a tight hug. I feel how much he is shaking and he starts to cry with relief. 

“I can’t lie, that was a lot to take in. But it doesn’t change anything. You’re still Remus, the gentle natured book nerd with a kind smile who came into my shop and stole my heart all those months ago.” I say, leaning away to look in his face. “My Remus.” 

“I don't deserve you.” He whispers with a sad smile. 

“Yes you do.” I smile back at him as I kiss him on the nose, causing us both to start giggling. 

“Thank you.” he says once we’ve composed ourselves. “My Y/N. I really do love you.” 

“I really do love you too.” 

*part two coming soon*

[she-walks-on-starlight]

Can u write some fluff and comfort for grayson.

i would appreciate it <3

Of course! Thanks for the request - ✨

Duty Bound

a/n: added in some hurt/comfort and a slight touch of angst for this one, it's just how the story came to me :) my requests are still open, send me your ideas I'd love to hear them 😊

Warnings: almost break-up, arguments, feelings of neglect

Summary: Grayson has been busy with work, and you're starting to feel tired of coming in second. When you deliver an ultimatum, will it make or break your relationship?

Word Count: 2k

“I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on, y/n, and I want to spend my days and my nights making you happy. I will do anything you ask, will take you anywhere you wish to go as long as I can come with you. Just please say you’ll be mine, and nothing could possibly make me any happier.”

A beautiful memory.

You sighed as you packaged the baked macaroni cheese into Tupperware containers and labelled them before putting them in the fridge, yet another dinner you’d eaten alone.

Your cat, Whiskers, wound himself around your legs and staring reproachfully at you with his wide, green eyes. Rolling your eyes, you filled his feeding dish and put it on the floor for him, earning a grateful squeak. You scratch just behind his ears, when you hear the lock turn in the front door and the heavy thud of your girlfriend’s work boots as she finally arrived home.

“I’m home, beloved! Oh, do I smell cheese?”

She appeared in the kitchen archway, her Enforcer jacket slung casually over her shoulder and her pristine white shirt unbuttoned to just above her cleavage. You fix her with faux annoyed stare.

“You do smell cheese…I’ve just put your dinner in the fridge.”

Grayson huffs, running her hands through her messy, silver streaked locks. “I’m so sorry, my love. There was a situation in the Undercity that required my attention.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I suppose I’ll have to let you off then, won’t I? Sit down, I’ll warm up your dinner.”

She obeyed, sitting at your small table as you warmed the macaroni cheese and started a spinach omelette for her lunch the next day. Grayson started unlacing her boots, lightly smacking your ass whenever you passed her because she knew it made you blush. Whiskers however soon realised she was home and pawed at her laces until she lavished him with attention. She looked tired, and you knew she must’ve had a very busy shift. It seemed with every week she was the Chief Enforcer more lines carved their way into her handsome face.

“I swear, more and more Shimmer is being pumped into the Undercity and we still haven’t got a single idea on how, or who is behind it all. Every factory I shut down, two more pop up to replace it! Not to mention how many Enforcers I’m losing to those Shimmer crazed thugs! I’ve had to inform three more wives of their husbands’ deaths today! Three!”

You kiss her cheek and run your hands through her hair, massaging the nape of her neck to help her relax. “I think you need a break, Gray.”

She groaned with pleasure at your ministrations but scoffed at your words. “If I take a break, I think the entire station will collapse.”

You tried to remain bright, placing her meal in front of her and grinning as she dug in eagerly. “Well…maybe we can do something this weekend? Maybe go to that little vegan café we both like?”

“Sorry my love, I can’t. I volunteered to lead a seminar on firearm maintenance on Saturday, and the Council wants me to make an appearance at the charity gala on Sunday.”

“Oh, a gala! That could be fun, it’s been a while since we’ve gone to one, I’ll have to see if I can dig out one of my old dresses…”

Grayson swallowed, eyeing you apologetically. “About that…I’m sorry. I’d like nothing more than to have you on my arm, but as I’m there to represent the Enforcers, it wouldn’t please the Council.”

You try to keep your breathing even, turning back to the stove and flipping the spinach omelette carefully.

“So, I’m not going to see you this weekend at all?”

You hear the scraping of her chair and close your eyes to prevent tears from falling as strong, broad arms wrap around you and the scent of her fresh, citrus cologne fills your nose as she kisses your cheek and your neck, her short curls tickling your face.

“Please don’t be too upset, my love. I have a duty to the people of Piltover.”

You sighed, your entire body filling with leaden disappointment. You were so sick of this. “And what about your duty to me?”

Grayson pulls away from you, her mouth agape. “What do you mean?”

Your hands ball into fists. “This apartment is haunted by you, Gray! I’m only graced with the presence of your shadow!”

“My love, I-”

“You’re always working, and when you’re not at work, then you’re at the gym! It’s like you have no time for me anymore! You’d always rather be doing something, anything else, than spend time with me, your girlfriend!”

Grayson crossed her arms. “That’s not true. My work is very important, beloved. I cannot simply drop everything to indulge in personal leisure.”

“But your work doesn’t have to take over your entire life, Gray.”

Grayson’s eyes were like liquid steel, sharp and cold. “My work IS my life. I have spent years, decades getting to where I am now! I thought you understood that.”

Your chest felt tight, your whole body felt stiff, and a prickling heat was coating your skin. This was a losing battle. Grayson was a woman of honour, a paragon of justice and was bound to her duty. Serving and protecting the people of Piltover was her lifeblood. That would never change, perhaps could never change.

“Then I think I should stay with my sister for a while.”

Before Grayson could reply, you turned on your heel and headed into the bedroom, burying yourself under the duvet and letting your salty tears burn into your face.

The next day had gone by in a blur. Grayson hadn’t been in the apartment when you’d woken up, so you assumed she’d gone into work early. Weary from working so late, but pleased you were able to complete the wedding cake on time for that lovely couple, you stabbed your key at the rusty lock in your apartment door until it finally clicked open and allowed you entry.

The apartment was dark and silent, but you expected that. Grayson was either at her office or she was hitting the gym. Again. The satisfied high from working at your small bakery was ebbing away, leeched from you by the depression radiating from the walls that had once surrounded you with love and warmth. You were too melancholy to cook, so you order chilli oil noodles from your favourite takeout place and trudged into the bedroom.

Opening the wardrobe, you were greeted with several Chief Enforcer uniforms, all starched and ironed to perfection, the belts and buckles gleaming proudly in the dim lighting of the bedroom. You carefully pushed them aside, not wanting to crease them and reached for your jumpers hanging beside them. As you folded them, you tried to ignore the sharp aching of your heart which only intensified when you pushed Grayson’s uniforms back into place on the rail.

You were pushing her out of your life.

You growled internally at the intrusive thought. Grayson had pushed you away first, now you were just letting yourself fall from the impact. If this is what Grayson wanted, then she would reap what she had sown.

On the bed lay your frayed duffel bag, beaten up from the many camping trips you and Grayson took. Used to take. It was open, the soft material hanging apart like a mocking, laughing mouth. However, as you approached it to put the jumpers inside, there was a folded piece of paper that wasn’t there when you’d left for work. As you opened it, you gasped as you recognised Grayson’s efficient scrawl.

Giovanni’s. 7pm. Wear the red dress. Please come.

Your eyes widened. Giovanni’s, a small Italian restaurant where you’d had your first dinner date with Grayson. The red dress she mentioned had been the one she’d slowly peeled you out of that evening, the first time she’d ever touched you like that. It had been the perfect night. Your heart fluttered at the implications of the note. Did she want to recreate that night? Or was this the final goodbye? Glancing the clock, you quickly put on the dress she requested and touched up your makeup before dashing out of the door and hailing a cab.

When you arrived, the waiter smiled knowingly and led you to the private terrace which was lit with candles and fairy lights. There was only a single table, by which Grayson stood wearing a crisp, black dress shirt, matching trousers, and a red paisley tie exactly the shade of your dress. She pulled out your chair for you as you sat, somewhat dazed, and kissed your knuckles before taking her seat opposite you.

Her eyes were serious, her forehead creased with stress. “I came home at lunchtime. I wanted to surprise you, to apologise for my recent behaviour…but I forgot today was one of your workdays. Just another way I’m failing you as a partner, I suppose.”

You reached for her, entwining your slender fingers with her larger ones, the warmth of her hand travelling up your arm and into your chest. “Gray…I-”

“I saw the bag.” Her voice was a whisper, the dreadful confession staining her lips with sadness. “I realised then, that you meant it when you said you were leaving. You were absolutely right. To have driven you to this, it’s unforgivable.”

You can feel your own heart swell at her words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you take in your forlorn lover, such a great, upstanding woman reduced to despair, her eyes pleading and so very remorseful.

“Gray, I do understand-”

Grayson silenced you with a gentle finger to your lips. “Please, my love, I need to tell you. You are the sun that wakes me at dawn, you are the stars that watch over me at night. You are the beat in my heart, the reason I thrive. I love you more than anything I have ever even comprehended. To neglect you this way, is the greatest pain I could have ever inflicted upon myself. You are why I work so hard, so make sure you will always be safe and never have anything to fear. But you were right, I let it consume me. It almost cost me everything I hold dear.”

It's everything you’ve needed to hear, and it takes every shred of your emotional self-control not to burst into relieved sobs. “Gray, I love you. Your sense of honour and your need to fulfil your duty are all part of you, and I love you even more for having these qualities. I just want to be able to share my life with you and know that you’ll always want to come home to me, see me, be with me.”

Grayson leaned forward, cupping your cheek. “I want for nothing more. My soul sings when I am with you, and you alone, beloved.”

Then she kisses you, and it’s just like the first time all those years ago. She cups your face with her warm hands and wipes away any tears falling, her soft lips caressing yours with care and reverence, the two of you pouring your deep love for each other into a kiss that’s been a long time coming.  When you break apart, you’re sure you are blushing, and Grayson’s look of pure adoration warms you from the inside out. You eat a beautiful meal and as you stand from the table, Grayson ceremoniously gathers you in her arms, bridal style, making you squeal with surprise and delight.

“Hey! Gray! What are you doing?”

She nuzzles into your neck. “We are going home. I have a weekend of pampering to spoil you with.”

“But what about your weekend obligations?”

Grayson kisses you, tender and slow. “Marcus is leading the seminar on Saturday, and I’ve informed the Council that I will not attend the gala. They will likely not miss the Enforcer representation anyway. Now come, I have many plans for this evening and many of them involve much less clothing. Shall we?”

Sighing contentedly, you rest your head on her shoulder as she carries you away. “Let’s go home.”

[softtdaisy]

NEVER FORGOTTEN - SPENCER REID

DESCRIPTION I Spencer misses you. Spencer hates you. But Spencer will save you, even after you broke his heart.

PAIRING I Spencer Reid x fem!reader

WORD COUNT I 2,3k

A/N I Apparently my Spencer obsession is back stronger than ever so I finally decided to write for my baby. I hope you will love this one!

There wasn’t a day Spencer Reid wasn’t thinking about you.

Everything at the BAU reminding him of you.

When he sat at this deck, he would remember how you would be sitting at your own right in front of him. Anytime he was looking up, you would be there. Sometimes you would smile even if you didn’t look up. You could feel his look and gave him comfort naturally.

When he was picking up his coffee, he would remember how you were always offering him one. There wasn’t a time when you took one that you didn’t bring him one too. It was so obvious from your first day, it lasted until you left.

When he was with team, talking about the new case, he would remember how you would sit next to him. And how you used to put a hand on his arm or thigh because of the atrocity of the case. He hated physical contact. But he loved knowing you find comfort just by touching him.

It was even worse at home. He wished he could find a way to erase all his memories so he would think about your presence in every single corner of his apartment. He could feel you everywhere. But you weren’t there anymore.

You and Spencer weren’t technically dating. Being members of the same team, you knew it would only cause problems to be a couple. And you knew how Hotch felt about love in the team.

But it was too difficult to stay apart. From the first day at the BAU, you found comfort in each other. Maybe it was the way he could explain everything in the world, how he would talk nonstop when he got stressed and somehow it managed to calm yours, how he would smile at you anytime you looked at him. Maybe it was the way you were always listening to Spencer when anyone lost track, how you made him feel seen when the team was talking over him, how you made him love physical contact by holding his hand anytime he needed to.

So, you were seeing each other, a lot. You were driving him to work, eating together, spending time together, making love to each other. It became too obvious that the attraction was huge between you. And you both thought there was nothing wrong in having fun. With all the terrible things you were dealing with every single day, you needed love. And you were both ready to give it to each other.

You knew things started to get more difficult when you started to fall asleep in Spencer’s arms. You found the most comfort when you put your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeats, while he was caressing your back with his fingertips, telling you stories about historic people with a raspy voice after moaning so hard a few minutes before. You didn’t want to stop. But you knew you were getting used to it.

And one day, kissing and having sex were not enough anymore.

It was a Sunday afternoon. You stayed at Spencer’s appartement after spending the night with him. And you were working on the last case you got, since you to gave your report tomorrow morning. When Spencer showed up in front of him. You could tell he was anxious; with the way he was playing with his fingers. You looked up, frowning and met his distant eyes. “Yes, Spence?”

“I…would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

“I’d rather not.” You said with a low voice, almost too ashamed to speak your mind. You saw Spencer frowning, turning away before coming back to you. “Why?”

You sighed and got up. You already hated this conversation. “It’s not that I don’t want to Spence, I’d love to. But if we start having dates, we will get used to it. And after dates, it’s dating, and we know we can’t. I don’t want to get attached to you.”

“You’re not attached to me, right now?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” you grabbed his face between your hands. You hated that Spencer probably felt unloved right now. “I lo…like you more than I should, already. But we agreed that a relationship is not a good thing for us.”

You noticed the tears growing in his eyes and you wanted to punch yourself for making your favorite person sad. God, you hated that stupid situation. “We could make this work…”

“No, Spencer. You know why? Because if you’re in danger and…I don’t know, two members of the team are too. I would choose you. If they are three, I would choose you. If a whole family is in a danger, I would. Chose. You. Because I would never forgive myself for letting the boy that I love die. I can’t think properly if love is involved. If you’re involved!”

You said it. You didn’t even notice you said it. Not until Spencer’s eyes grew bigger.

It was too late.

You quickly walked away, leaving Spencer alone in his living room while you were getting dressed and collecting all your stuff. You had to leave. Now. If love was involved, everything was getting worse and you couldn’t risk either your career or Spencer’s for…such a stupid feeling.

When you left the bedroom, Spencer was still standing in the living room, confused. He looked at you, feeling your presence in his back. All you managed to say was sorry.

It was the last word you told him before leaving him.

Before leaving the BAU.

Before changing him.

When he understood you left for good, Spencer started to hate you. That was how he realized he loved you, first. He kept telling everyone that the team was better without you, anyway. He kept saying you were a bad person, and nobody should miss you. Which was ironic since you were the only person on his mind.

Spencer was confused between wanting to see you again, because he still had feelings for you. And never wanting to see you ever again. Because he hated you, too.

And life choose for him.

Spencer was late to the team meeting. He was breathless when he opened the door and kept apologizing until he finally sat. But he could feel everyone’s look on him. “Why you’re all looking at me like that?” he asked, frowning. Sure, he was never late. But everyone has been in the team so it shouldn’t be a mistake.

“Look, Spencer, you don’t have to be part of this case, we understand if…”

He heard the first words. He lost track when he saw your face on the screen. Your beautiful face he was used to see every single day. Those gorgeous eyes that were giving him so much comfort in the past. That amazing smile that was making him feel loved. All here, in front of him. Because you were missing.

After the BAU, you started working for another agency and from what everyone’s heard, you were good at your job. So good that apparently, someone wanted to make you pay. You’ve been missing for almost a week now. And for the first time in weeks, Spencer didn’t feel any hate towards you. He felt sad. Because he might have lost you for good.

It took the team hours and a sleepless night to finally find a lead on where you might be. You helped framed a criminal the past month and the sister’s seemed to hate you. Hate messages, pictured near your apartment…

And they were right.

Spencer asked to come alone. He wanted to deal with her by himself. If she was really the woman who wanted to kill you, then he wanted to be the one to arrest her. She opened the door a few seconds after he rang the bell. She looked young and broken. He couldn’t imagine the pain of losing her brother. But he could imagine the hate and the need to avenge him.

“I know you.” She said with a harsh voice. She probably noticed the confusion on his face. “When she took him, her phone turned on. She had on you as her lock screen. I can recognize a face immediately. You’re her boyfriend.” He hated how she was never using your name. Like you were just a her someone she hated so much that you didn’t deserve a name.

But he kept thinking to what she said. How could you have him as your lock screen? The case was only a month ago and you’ve been away for a year now. “Because I would never forgive myself for letting the boy that I love die.” You said the last time you saw him. The boy that I love. Maybe you were still loving him.

“How can you love such an awful person?” She told Spencer. He knew it was the perfect occasion to deal with that woman. If she hated you that much, he just had to let her believe he hated you just as much. Spencer you knew it.

He would find you.

“I don’t love her.” He simply said. Trying to be as neutral as possible. “She probably keeps on her phone to remind herself of what she lost.” The worst part was that it was probably the truth. He knew you. You loved torture yourself with those kinds of things. And you truly loved him, then you probably were angry with yourself for letting him go.

“She deserves to die.” It felt like a punch in the stomach for Spencer to hear that. No, she doesn’t, please don’t kill her. He wanted to say. But he couldn’t. So he bit his lips a single second before answering.

“Yes, she does.”

She invited him inside. Just like that. Because she believed a hateful ex-boyfriend was a good accomplice.

Thankfully, the team was outside and listening to everything that was going on.

He was ready to see you. But he could never have imagined he would find you like that. Tied to a chair, your hair being a mess and your face covered in bruised. You were in a bad shape. Have you been there the whole week? You still haven’t seen him. The woman walked to your back and held you by your hair, putting your face in the light and making Spencer want to throw up. “Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

He read the confusion your face, having no idea who she was talking to. Until Spencer took a few steps and appeared in your vision. “I still haven’t decided how and when I want to kill her, so if you want to settle accounts with her, it’s your time big boy.” She was standing there, waiting for Spencer to do something. But he couldn’t move. You looked so fragile like this. That wasn’t fair. That was…hell.

“Do you mind leaving us alone for a minute?” He used a serious tone, to make him sound more hateful that he was. All the hate he had, disappeared the moment he understood what was going on. The woman hesitated and he really thought she would be smart enough to refuse. But she walked to the door. “Let’s say two. I want to see her bleed.” She winked at him and he controlled himself to not punch her.

Once the door closed, he ran to you. “Oh my god [y/n], what happened?” he was looking for a way to cut the rope when you managed to rub your nose against his hair.

“Don’t put yourself in danger for me Spence…” your voice was weak. He couldn’t imagine the hell you’ve been through these past days. You were ready to let him punch you and leave so he wouldn’t have to suffer like you. You accepted your fate; he could see that in your eyes. And it was probably more hurtful than seeing you bruised like that.

“I won’t forgive myself for letting the girl that I love die, is that right?” He saw the sparks in your eyes when he said the word that broke everything between you the last time. “Now, let me work.” He gave you a simple kiss in the hair before finally cutting those ropes. He lost a lot of time doing this but his plan was going to work.

It had to.

When the woman came back, you weren’t in the chair anymore. And Spencer was nowhere to be seen. She only the had to scream before he put her on the floor. “I think I forgot to say that earlier, but I’m an FBI agent.” She tried to struggle but Spencer still managed to arrest her. And the team arrived just a few seconds after that. Meaning they could take care of her, while he took care of you.

You were hiding behind a wardrobe the whole time. When the team started to take her out, you finally went to Spencer. You didn’t ask for anything but ran to his arms and started to cry. “I kept thinking about, hoping you would come and find me, and I know I broke your heart last year so every time I started to get hopes, a voice in my head was telling me that you wouldn’t do that and…” Spencer stopped you when you took your head between his hands.

“Even if I hated you, I would never leave you.” He was brushing your bruised cheeks with his fingers. And like some kind of magic, or maybe it was the love he had for you, but the contact against your wound didn’t hurt. It even made you feel better. “I didn’t always have the best thoughts about you, but I never stopped thinking about you.”

Spencer wished he’d found a better way to have you back. He wished he had fought for you back then so you wouldn’t have lost a whole year. He wished he had found a way to make you stay, so you wouldn’t have been in danger.

He wished a lot of things. But his biggest one came true today.  Because you were back in his life.

follow @softtdaisywords​ to know when new stories are released 🤍

[toomanygoldfish]

At five you knew that you wanted a garden. A big garden that had all kinds of vegetables, fruit, and flowers. your grandfather would sit behind you as you plotted out your own garden, spinning tales of him and your grandmother planting their own. 

Your grandfather's garden was one of the most magical places in the world. You remember him leading you through the wall of berry bushes, eating the different types of berries as he dutifully explained the care he put onto each bush. 

Even as he got older he would still walk with you as you inspected the zucchini, tomatoes, grapes, and strawberries. Picking the rippest and bringing back your bounties to your mother and grandmother. 

You would sit with wide eyes trying to take in everything as the adults canned the berries, grapes, and fruits. Watching as they made jam with the leftovers. 

Your small little family could often be found behind a farmers market stall on Sundays. A small tired child leaning, with half lidded eyes, into their mothers side.

As your grandparents got older, the garden grew with them. With your grandfather sick, he was unable to take care of the garden. it grew over, it grew until the berry wall was reaching over into the grape trellises. The grape vines reach for safety on the garden wall, blocking the pathway from any wandering children. 

Your grandfather passed away when you were ten. The night you found out you ran sobbing into his study. You shoved yourself into the space between the wall and the desk, your spot. You shook with sobs. He left. Why would he leave you?  

Grandmother passed away soon after. She was inconsolable after her husband’s death, she was relieved when she fell ill. She was going to be happy with your grandfather. Just happy away from you. 

Your mother sold the house. When you were thirteen. She let you keep anything you took. You ended up taking all of his books and his desk. For years the books were in boxes shoved in your closet, holding too many painful memories to open. From your closest in your childhood home they went into a storage complex, as you moved to college. 

They only made a reappearance recently, when your fiancé when’s to grab some old paintings to decorate your new home. It was raining outside when you opened the box. 

You felt your fiancé behind you as you peeled back the tape.

 “Haji, I’m nervous. I haven’t looked at these books and papers since he died.”

“It's alright baby, I’ll be right behind you. You can take a break at any time, no one’s going to judge you” Iwaizumi reassured. 

You bit your lip, eyes already welling up with tears as you opened the first book. 

You and Iwaizumi had stayed up well into the morning going through every single book and paper in those boxes. The boxes were full of poem books, herbology books, and sketch books. But most sentimental to you were plans of a garden that you had made with your grandfather. 

His writing was delicate behind your bold toddler strokes, explaining which plants to plant. Perhaps even better than that were sketches of trellises, benches, flower beds, and landscaping, all meant to surround that initial garden. 

You fell asleep in Iwaizumi’s arms with tears staining your cheeks. 

You and Hajime got married the next week. As he pulled you away from the crowd he whispered plans into your ear. Plans for a garden to be made. Just the two of you, working together to make the garden of your dreams. 

**Time Skip**

Laughter filled your ears as you held a newborn in your arms. You look up to see Iwaizumi lifting your three year old high in the air, her face stained by raspberries, smiling big, and giggling. Her father looked at her like she was his world. 

Your toddlers giggling gets louder as he spins around, coming to rest next to you. He sits down next to you, letting your toddler go to waddle over to the flowers. He kisses your cheek, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You love your garden built by hand over the course of three years. Hopefully one day your family will get bigger. But for now you're happy.

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

sorry this is so short, AGAIN, I’m STILL having trouble deciding where to cut these chapters off 😭 we’ll be out of the medbay in the next chapter i promise

part forty-five

❝ AWAKE AND ALIVE ❞

SUNDAY — SEPTEMBER 13 — 4:04PM

ASTEN DIDN'T WAKE UP UNTIL FOUR THE NEXT DAY. 

Bentley had been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours. Every now and then Alfred would run a test, or give him some more pain medicine, and every single time, Bruce was there just like he said he’d be. A few times, Dick was there with him. Once, Jason was. It was a blur up until somebody started screaming, at which point Bentley was suddenly very much awake.

He was disoriented and didn’t even have time to realize who was screaming until the screaming stopped, and a few people were grouped around Asten’s bed.

Bentley blinked and took hold of his surroundings again. Jason and Alfred were near Asten’s bed. Dick and Damian were in the other room, along with Barbara. Tim, Duke, Steph, and Cass weren’t there. 

Bruce was right next to Bentley, where he said he’d be. And… something warm was right next to Bentley.

He glanced down at himself and realized that he wasn’t the only one in the bed, but that, since they were both so small, Nico had curled up on the end of the mattress like some kind of cat and was sleeping there, completely unaware of the sound or movement around him. 

Suddenly, Asten wasn’t screaming anymore, but crying. Crying so pitifully and terribly that it reminded Bentley of the night his parents died. 

“It’s alright,” Bruce said, and instinctively, his hand came up to rest on the top of Bentley’s head, drawing his attention away from Asten.

He looked around again, his eyes landing on future Nico, who was standing strangely in a dim corner, watching Asten closely. With a glance around and a wink in Bentley’s direction, he zoomed across the room with a blip that made him disappear in a warp of light.

Bentley and Asten were both awake. Did that mean his job was done? That he was gone?

“How are you feeling?” Bruce questioned. Bentley took a second to focus on his body. His head was hurting pretty bad, and so was his whole abdomen where he’d been stabbed. His ankle was sort of throbbing as well. He was still kind of floaty and loopy, though, which meant some pain medicine was probably working.

He ended up shrugging. “Everything kinda hurts.”

Bruce’s hand began to move in his hair. “I’m sorry. You’re due for more pain meds in about an hour.”

Bentley said nothing, but glanced back over at Asten, who was being quietly consoled by Jason. He wasn’t just crying anymore — he was hyperventilating and shaking and looked a whole lot like Bentley thought he looked during an anxiety attack.

Bentley inhaled. “Will he be okay?”

Bruce’s hand continued to move through his hair and kind of really reminded him of Dick.

“Yes, bud. He’ll be okay,”

A few moments of silence passed where Bentley could only sort of make out what Jason was saying to Asten. He gave up halfway through listening because it was too quiet.

In the midst of the quiet, Dick came into the room with a bright (but at the same time dull?) look on his face and in his eyes. Bentley attempted to push himself so he was sitting up, and while it was still very painful, it was successful this time — Bruce situated the pillows behind him and whatever little pain meds were still working were doing a very good job for a kid who’d been impaled. 

Dick walked over, and in one swift movement, hugged Bentley as gently as he could.

“I love you so much, kiddo,” It sounded like his eyes were misty — Bentley didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he relaxed into the familiar embrace, bringing his arms up and around Dick’s shoulders in return. This sure does beat dying alone in a pile of debris.

“I love you, too.”

When Dick moved (which took a long time, but no one had expected any less.) Damian was standing behind him, near Bentley’s bed. 

Dick moved out of his way, and a moment of silence passed where no one did anything. Bentley was just happy to be there — happy everyone was there. Happy to be breathing.

Damian moved quickly toward Bentley, like he was ripping a bandaid off, making a decision before he could convince himself not to.

Damian hugged him.

Bentley was frozen and tense for a solid three seconds before he decided that might make Damian not want to do it again. Then he hugged him back. Had Damian ever actually… did Damian even hug people? Bentley wasn’t sure he’d ever even seen Damian hug someone.

“I am glad you are alright,” Damian said, stiffly removing himself from Bentley’s embrace. “I am in your debt.”

“No you’re not,” He replied, searching Damian’s face for any tinge of emotion. There might’ve been a layer of something clouding his eyes. Might’ve.

“You saved my life,” Damian replied simply, crossing his arms. “I can not take generosity like that for granted — I owe you.”

“I already have everything I need,” Bentley replied, and he saw Bruce smile in his peripheral.

Damian sighed. “One day, you will need me. Then we will be even.”

Bentley said nothing, but nodded in response. 

Just then, the other someone curled up on the medbay bed began to shift.

Bentley glanced down at Nico, who was laying next to his legs, just in time to see his blue eyes flutter open and bounce around. They landed on Bruce, on Damian, on the bed, the walls, on Dick, who was off to the side.

When they finally landed on Bentley, you’d have thought he was a parent coming home from deployment. Nico nearly fell off the bed at the speed that he moved, whamming into Bentley in a way that definitely would’ve hurt worse if he wasn’t hyped up on so many drugs.

“Whoa, Nico, easy,” Bruce started.

“I was so scared. I woke up when you were having surgery,” The blonde muttered, hiding his face away — probably because he was nearly in tears. “I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up.”

Bentley, although stunned, hugged him back. “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

Nico made a funny sound. “You need to learn what those words mean.”

Bentley said nothing, and after a minute, snickered. “I guess so. Are you feeling better?”

“A lot,” Nico replied, finally letting go of him. “Y’know, less pukey and sick and stuff.”

“That’s good,”

A moment of silence passed. Nico glanced over at Asten, so Bentley did, too. 

He was still crying, but not as badly as before, and Jason was standing next to the bed, facing away from Bentley, talking. 

In a flash and a blip, Nico crashed into Asten, too. 

Jason backed off, turning on his heel and letting his eyes rest on Bentley with a little fond look.

“Hey, kid. How are you feeling?” Jason questioned. He ruffled his hair for only a second, to which Bentley smiled.

“It still hurts,” He replied honestly. “But I’m okay.”

Jason smiled faintly. “I’m glad.”

Bentley smiled, and the room fell into quiet again.

He glanced over at Asten and Nico. Nico was still hugging the life out of him, and Asten was simply letting him. Bentley met his eyes over Nico’s shoulder. They shared a faint smile.

Everything would be okay.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[ms-wwe]

CHAPTER I (PT. 2) DAMIAN PRIEST X OC

“ Your favorite! Don't drink too much before your interview baby doll. I'll be at the house if you need me.”

- Daddy

The note brought a smile to my face as I popped the lid on the coffee canister, taking in the strong scent of coffee grounds as I began prepping the pot. Though I was a thirty-four-year-old woman, I still found immense comfort in knowing at least one of my dads gave a damn enough about how stressful today may be for me to stay planted at their home that was just down the hill. Knowing if this interview became too much, too hurtful, that I could go running into his arms felt like a security blanket. I examined the kitchen for the next five minutes while my coffee brewed, the pantry was stocked with food I’d eat, there were drinks and snacks in the refrigerator, and I knew that this had to of been the work of my fathers. Knowing them, they likely assumed I’d be too nervous and too dread-filled to go grocery shop for a house that sits empty until I pay a visit, and they were right, groceries hadn’t even crossed my mind. I considered making myself a meal, it was eight fifteen and I had plenty of time to eat before this interview happened, yet the thought of putting food in my system made me feel sick, so I chose to skip the meal and enjoy my hot black coffee all on its own. I opened the cabinet next to the fridge and pulled out a coffee mug, one of my grandfather's favorites. It was a large mug that had been in this house since before I existed. It had a weird yellow hue to it now, my guess from the years of daily use, and on the front had an old logo that had started to fade away. It was for an old diner that used to exist in town but had been shut down for years. According to my grandfather, it was where he and my grandmother went to breakfast after church every Sunday. He always said using this mug made him feel connected to her again, and now I’m using it to feel connected to him. I poured my coffee and decided to enjoy out on the front porch in one of the old rockers. As soon as I opened the front door, I was hit with the crisp fall morning air, something I missed being in Florida permanently now. I made my way to the closest rocker and curled up in the seat, taking in the view from my grandfather’s porch. The compound of more acres than I cared to know of land that my grandparents had bought in the early days of their marriage. Their house, a single-story, old-timey ranch home, sat on top of a rather large hill, and now, it overlooked two massive homes flanking either side in the close distance. My fathers lived in these homes with their respective families and children. I looked at both houses, trying to see if I could discern any activity in the homes yet but to no surprise, I couldn’t quite tell from this angle. I sipped my coffee and took in the morning as much as I could, knowing in less than an hour, I’d be in the most uncomfortable position I’ve ever experienced in my life. My phone buzzed in my back pocket, jolting me out of my doomsday thoughts. I immediately pulled it from my pocket and smiled at the incoming call as I swiped to answer it. “Mija,” the deep voice said happily, and suddenly, I was back on earth without a care in the world.

[j-nipper-95]

Fic Rec (plus late Six Sentence Sunday) Monday!

Ok, so I’m late posting this, but oh well. It’s being posted!

I’m not sure if my tumblr notifications are working properly at the moment (I know I missed at least one tag last week, so if I’ve missed your tags the last couple of weeks I’m sorry, I’m not ignoring you, tumblr is acting up!) but I’m still alive. I’m back, and I have words to share!

July’s Camp NaNoWriMo has been amazing for getting words down for COTTA, and I am finally back on track with following the El Dorado plot line again! I managed to double the word count goal I had by 1am this morning, so all in all, a very productive month. So without further ado, here’s six(teen) sentences from that! Thanks for the tags @artsyunderstudy @theearlgreymage and @hushed-chorus (and anyone else if I’ve missed your posts!!)

Baz POV

“Get in the back,” he grunts, nodding at the truck. “I’ll cover you.”

“With what, Snow?”

“Just do it.”

No. I won’t leave him.

“They’ll shoot you on sight,” I say (I plead, I almost beg. Don’t make me face the thought of losing you, Simon). “I can’t get over there without your help,” I add. If there’s one thing I can count on right now, it’ll be Simon’s inner heroism.

“Bet you can,” he says, without thinking.

“Two shillings say I can’t.”

The challenge in my voice is enough to make him turn to glare at me. And knowing how much it irritates him, I cock an eyebrow and tilt my chin up to look down my nose at him.

Snow opens his mouth to argue but snaps it shut when we hear the Now Next almost at the corner we’ve just run around.

“You’re on.”

And then Jas also tagged me in a fic rec post, so here’s a few I’ve been enjoying recently!

Someone Wicked by @artsyunderstudy ([E, 53.9k, Carry On, complete]

I had the chance to beta read this fic with @cutestkilla and oh my God it was a rollercoaster of emotions and tender smut and I loved every single second of it!

Normal AU, complicated family relationships, religious guilt, chronic pain rep, escort Simon, this fic had me hooked from the second Ashton pitched it to me! It’s angsty and soft and emotional in all of the ways we’ve come to expect from her fics, and it ticks all of the boxes.

Ashton managed to tackle some really tough emotions and relationship dynamics in this one, and I don’t really want to say any more and risk spoiling any of it.

Check it out if you haven’t yet, but just remember it is explicit with plenty of on page smut/sex scenes!

More Than Friends by @fatalfangirl [E, 19.9k, Carry On, incomplete]

This fic updated today. It was a good day!

Simon and Baz are roommates, and having survived lockdown together their feelings are becoming much more than platonic. Both of them like the other, but neither is willing to compromise their friendship.

Another Normal AU, this time ‘friends with benefits’, featuring lots of unhealthy coping mechanisms, a sexually promiscuous Simon (which I for one am loving!), Baz as a writer, and some new tags that were added today (trigger warnings for mentions of past ab*se and panic attacks).

This fic is updating currently, and I cannot wait to see what Stacy has in store for the boys! (Again, it’s explicit, so minors begone!)

What Remains After the Storm by @hushed-chorus [M, 86.3k, Carry On, complete]

When I tell you this fic had (and still has) me in a fricken chokehold, that’s an understatement! I still think about this fic on a daily basis, and Demi’s writing is simply stunning.

A fantasy/historical fiction(ish) AU, with fae, curses, much pining, and plenty of cute goats.

Simon is a goatherd on the edge of a fishing town, and while he’s not entirely trusted by the townsfolk, he’s not outright despised either. He works the land, and always pays his tithe to the fae. Until he pulls something from the ocean. Or rather, someone. When Baz flees his fae captors and returns home, he and Simon have to work together to help him remember his humanity.

This fic. Oh. My. GOD! Every update had me on the edge of my seat. Do yourself a favour, and go and read this fic. Especially as Demi is considering writing more in the same AU!

Strictly Professional by @palimpsessed [E, 38.5k, Carry On, complete]

This fic completed a couple of days ago, and I didn’t have time to finish reading it until this morning, and my god was it worth the wait!

Simon is a new recruit at Baz’s firm, and he’s joined the company just in time for the professional conference. But not in time to get his own hotel room. Cue only one bed forced proximity fast burn get together!

This fic pays off so quickly in the best way possible! The emotions Pal has managed to get into such a short space of time for the boys is incredible, and had me so invested in this relationship! Baz trying to remain professional, Simon’s unabashed flirting, neither of them managing to keep their hands off each other. Again, every single box ticked!

The Selkie and his Boy by @hushed-chorus [T, 21.8k, Carry On, complete]

It’s very rare that I pick up a T or G rated SnowBaz fic. I usually go for M and above, but once again, Demi had me hook line and sinker with this one.

Every year, Baz and his family holiday in Cornwall (can I just say how much I love Demi’s writing about Cornwall? It’s so nice to see the South West represented in fic!! As a Dorset girl who holidayed a lot in Cornwall as a kid, I love this so much!). Everything goes to plan … most of the time. One year, he meets a boy with bronze hair and blue eyes that utterly captivates him, and who he expects to spend the whole summer getting to know.

But the boy never shows up the next day. Or the next. Or indeed for the next several years.

Flash forward seven years, and an embittered Baz finally meets Simon again, and finds out why Simon never came back all those years ago.

An AU where Simon is a selkie, Baz is still a vampire, and Mordelia is unabashedly sassy!

Tagging (for both SSS and fic recs): @artsyunderstudy @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @aristocratic-otter @palimpsessed @larkral @orange-peony @dragoneggos @prettylightsbigcity @stardustasincocaine @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ebbpettier @martsonmars @erzbethluna @hushed-chorus

[stabbyindie]

Entry #1 Burning Bridges October 3rd 2024

You entered my life nearly seven years ago, and you’ve never left since. Your heart cradled mine, a twisted beat we drummed together. I didn’t realize how into you I was. I did years too late, when we both promised fleeting love to each other, only to turn them into torturous and prolonged goodbyes. When we finally bid farewell, you came back like a carefully lit inferno a year and four months later, burning down any semblance of normalcy I built for myself, paper walls of denial, a man, a boyfriend, shallow relationships. You left after scorching my tongue and heart again, your hands leaving trails of want on my skin, my flesh, my bones. You ingrained hope into my consciousness again, ignited that flicker of love I still held for you, sheltered and burrowed under layers of viscera, raging so bright my chest hurt with heartburn for days on end.

Did you ever realize the impact you had and still have on me? A word from you and I come crawling like a dog, a touch from you and I burrow into it like an unloved puppy, the sight of you leaving me craving for your attention like a neglected child. You go days, weeks, even months acting like i don't exist and i can’t go a single song without imagining a life with you, Sunday mornings filled with soft touches, hard kisses and sultry words, weekends filled with nicotine rushes with every shared breath, lifetimes filled with just us, us, us, us. It’s a chore, a schedule, a self imposed ritual, to check for any word from you, only to find none time and time again, to realize unprompted words from you are too much to ask when I can’t even afford to get replies from unfinished conversations, closure.

You promise so much, you lower my shackles only to pull them up so fast I’m left disjointed and pained. You tell me you’ll answer my numerous calls, whenever and however, only to never answer a single one and leave shallow explanations with no follow ups. Reminds me why we never worked out, why we can’t work out, but yet i wait for you to come back and ruin me again, ruin my next attempt at a put together life and relationship, only to leave me aching with that god awful want again and again and again until i can’t feel anymore, until the only attachment i have left is the one that connects my soul to my body. You’re ashamed of me, of my neediness, of my mistakes, you hide me from your friends, and fair enough. But you hide me from yourself too, you don't like that you can’t get enough of me either, so you run away and you drag me with you, covering me with road burns and friction rashes. You run me ragged to get better for yourself, and you have no idea you do that.

But what exactly do I do about that? I crave too much of you to act as if you never exist, especially not after you’ve ruined the one attempt I made at doing just that, proving that it's impossible. That I’m a fool stuck in the eternal loop of unrequited love, or love that just cannot be, because that’s what we have, love. Calling this a crush, something so frivolous, makes me nauseous, makes me feel so disgustingly wrong, infatuation even worse. Obsession maybe, but love moreso. My friends think I’m ridiculous, they think what’s here is unimportant, not that deep. But I can’t convey how much I rely on this terrible relationship to function as myself, that without it I cannot work, that if this gear were to stop moving, my entire autonomy would fall apart. That if I do ever burn this bridge, I will never be able to build another one ever again.

Sometimes I hope something horrible happens to you, so that at least I’d finally have a reason to grieve you, so that I’d finally be able to enter the torturous sequence of moving on, so that I won’t be burdened or left with my own disgusting thoughts all the time anymore, so that I give everyone I know a reason for my psychosis, for my desperation to angst over you. Is this really what puppy love is supposed to feel like? Is this simply the start of a lifetime of love and heartbreak? I feel like I’ve had enough of both with just this one for the entirety of my god awful lifetime. Maybe my brain grew up too fast because of this sack of horseshit we called a romance for years, maybe that’s why everything else seems like it can’t compare, because nothing was nearly as fucked as this was, as this is. Look at what you’ve done to me, a labeled cheater, an indecisive bitch. Is this what you wanted from me when you came hurdling back in again, were you seeking a fucked up form of consolation, were you trying to see how much of me you still had wrapped around your fingertips, to see how far I’d go for you so that you could go back home and use the hours of sleep I’ve lost over this for yourself, earning yourself well deserved rest? Is this how we were supposed to play out? A losing side and a winning side? 

I’ve lost, undoubtedly and lawfully lost. This is rock bottom, it cannot possibly get worse than this, I physically cannot take worse than this.

[samynnad102687]

Marauderstober

Oct 24 - Slytherin Skittles - Candy Eating

1,171 words

Regulus was not in the mood to have people over today. It didn’t matter that it was his friends instead of James’. He didn’t want to socialise, but unfortunately with this group, it wouldn’t matter what he said, they were coming over no matter what. Sometimes, he wondered why they cared so much about him and wouldn’t just let him sit in a dark room and read a book for the rest of his days. 

The incessant knocking at his front door drew Regulus out of his musing and he groaned loudly even though there was nobody there to hear him. Regulus pulled himself up off of the couch and didn’t even bother to put his book down. The knocking continued until he yanked open the door with a scowl.

“Why must you be so annoying right now?” Regulus grumbled as he saw a grinning Barty on the other side of his door.

“Because you love me for it.” Barty pushed past Regulus and plopped down on his couch.

“I really don’t.”

“Reggie, stop being sour. We brought sweets,” Pandora said sweetly when she came in behind him, followed by Evan and Dorcas.

“Why?”

“To cheer you up,” Dorcas replied instantly, sitting in one of the armchairs next to Pandora.

“I don’t need any cheering up. I was perfectly content to sit and read by myself.”

That was only partially true. Yes, he was content to sit and read but he preferred when James was home to read with him. Unfortunately, he had to leave for a work trip and won’t be back until Thursday. It was Tuesday and he had only been gone since Sunday. It wasn’t that he needed to see James every day but he did prefer it when his husband was home. But that didn’t mean that Regulus needed his friends to come and barge into his house with…

Wait…

“Did you say sweets?” Pandora nodded with her gentle smile that Regulus knew was her ‘I know what you need’ smile. It wasn’t a secret that Regulus had a sweet tooth.

“Of course, that’s the only word that you heard,” Barty threw his hands up in the air in surrender. “Did you even hear a single word I said?” 

Honestly, Regulus didn’t even realise that Barty was talking until he got upset that Regulus wasn’t listening. It shouldn’t be a surprise but Regulus has a tendency to tune things out when he’s annoyed.

“Did you say something?” Regulus asked sarcastically with a smirk.

“You little shit,” Barty groaned before launching back into his story, not that Regulus was listening this time either.

“Reggie?” Dorcas called.

“Hmm?” 

“Where do you keep going? I swear half the time we’re over here, you are lost somewhere in your own little world.”

“Have you not met me?” Regulus asked exasperatedly. “When am I not in my own head?”

“That’s beside the point. We brought sweets and you are going to socialise,” Pandora responded firmly. “I’m not going to let you wallow in the dark until James comes home.”

He wasn’t wallowing. He was just enjoying some alone time because he knew that as soon as James came home then Sirius would be home and they would both pester him about Halloween. He can only take so much excitement so he is savouring the peace while he has it.

“I’m not wallowing,” Regulus declared as he crossed his arms over his chest.

The four of them stared at Regulus for another few minutes before Regulus had to give in and sat back down on the couch next to Evan. He grabbed his bookmark and marked the page he was on before he set his book on the table between the couch and armchair that Pandora and Dorcas were sitting in. 

“Fine, maybe I am but that didn’t mean you all needed to come over here.” He was still a little annoyed. “What sweets did you bring?”

“I swear he only cares about the sweets,” Barty said annoyed but there was a hint of a smile to it. 

“We have all of the sweets,” Pandora replied, ignoring Barty’s comment and dumping the bag on the coffee table. “Chocolates, gummies, lollies, everything that you could think of. We got it.”

“What the fuck? Did you raid the sweets shop or something?” Regulus squawked as the sweets filled his coffee table.

“No, we only bought a few things,” Evan said with a smirk as Barty tried to hide his laughter behind his hand. 

“You did, didn’t you?” Regulus glared at Evan and Barty for a few minutes before Dorcas threw a Mars bar at him.

“Eat your chocolate and be grateful.” 

Regulus could get behind his friends barging into his quiet time if it meant they were going to bring him sweets. He did actually enjoy it when his friends barged into his house most of the time, not that he was going to tell them that. They would never leave if they knew he enjoyed their company. 

Regulus was starting to relax on the couch as the conversation continued about nothing of importance. He had already had three chocolate bars, two Turkish delights, and a handful of gummies. Barty couldn’t eat anything and not make a mess to save his life. He had chocolate wrappers strewn all around him and somehow managed to get chocolate on his forehead, although Regulus was sure that Evan was to blame for that. 

“Can you not make a mess in my house, please?” Regulus asked after another ten minutes of watching Barty throw yet another wrapper on the table.

“It’s contained.” Barty shrugged and Regulus tried to smack him but he ducked out of the way before he could.

“Seriously, how do you always manage to make a mess when you eat and how the hell did you get chocolate on your forehead?”

Barty reached up and wiped off the chocolate with a look of betrayal.

“Who put chocolate on my forehead?” Barty exclaimed loudly. 

Everyone else snickered and pointed their fingers at a different person in the room. Pandora was pointing at Evan, Dorcas was pointing at Regulus, Evan was pointing at Dorcas and Regulus was pointing at Pandora. Barty huffed and crossed his arms as he sunk back into the couch. That just caused everyone to fall into full-on laughter at his dramatics. 

“How did you not know that somebody touched your head?” Dorcas asked after they had calmed down and caught their breaths.

“I wasn’t paying attention to what you people were doing. I was too busy enjoying my sweets to focus on any of you?”

“Oh, stop pouting,” Evan said as he gave his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek. “We’re only having a little bit of fun.”

Barty did stop pouting… eventually. The five of them spent the next hour eating sweets and messing around with each other. Regulus wouldn’t admit this but they did cheer him up and he got in a few laughs too but he still wished it was Thursday.

@cazzythefrogking @clementinewoolf @maladaptivewriting @multiimoments @lavenderhaze @literally-the-prettiest-star @thebibutterflyao3 @seiworf @emjayeingray @remusregulusrosekiller @heartsoncover @accuratewhereabouts @belowthestarrs