#if i could pick anyone it would probably be grandma

[freebooter4ever]

i love my little cottage, and truly i feel so lucky even on nights when my space heater can barely keep it warm, but its so lonely and quiet after i turn the movies/shows/hockey/vlogs off :(

[clownboy-yeehonk]

.

[myjelllybean]

Who's the dad

This is a Evan Buckley (9-1-1) fanfiction I have finally decided to post. It is the first or second fanfiction I have written in my whole life so this is probably bad. English is not my first language so there could be a few mistakes.

I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it. If anyone has feedback, I am open for it.<3

Summary: A few months after a one-night stand leaves (Y/N) pregnant, she unexpectedly meets the baby's father at a BBQ at her dad's fire station.

The blonde guy was hot, (Y/N) had to admit. His baby blue shirt lets his eyes glow in the most perfect way.

“So why are you here today?”, (Y/N) asked. They both had a silent deal: no name’s, no prying for information.

“Hard day at work”, the man answered. “You?”

“Hard week.” (Y/N) knew she was already drunk, but she ordered another tequila. In the afternoon, she brought her kids to their grandparents, Bobby and Athena. The reason she told them: I need the evening for drinking until I don’t even know my name anymore.

She knew drinking wasn’t going to solve her problem, but it would numb her for at least one night. It would make her forget the pain.

The man nodded, but she didn’t even know what she had said before.

They drank a few drinks together until both of them saw black spots dancing in front of their eyes.

(Y/N) knew it was wrong what she wanted to do know. She wanted to kiss this man. She wanted to forget why she was here tonight. She knew exactly how wrong it would be. How disappointed everyone would look at her. But screw it. She wanted him and she wanted him now.

She leant forward and pressed a kiss on his lips. It felt so right, but so wrong. It didn’t matter. The blonde deepened the kiss. The next thing (Y/N) knew was that they were in the man’s apartment. In his bed.

___

(Y/N) did her best to hide the baby bump – but it didn’t help much. Maybe she could tell everyone she has just eaten too much when they were in Europe. She hasn’t seen anyone of her family in the last 5 months. They didn’t know she was pregnant and they are not supposed to. Half a year ago she packed her stuff and drove away with the kids.

After her husband died and she slept with this stranger, she had to leave. She wasn’t able to stay anymore. She was ashamed of herself. How was she able to sleep with someone just some hours after Henry died? They weren’t always happy but she loved him. He had been her world. Until he was gone.

“Mommy? How much longer we have to drive?” James asked from the back of the car. He was the most impatient of her kids.

“Only around half an hour then you can finally see grandpa and grandma again.”

(Y/N) heard a sigh from her son and chuckled.

“Is there going to be cake? Is grandpa going to make pasta for us?” Cameron. She and James are twins and couldn’t be more similar. Both impatient and always hungry until they ate two bites and complain about being too full to eat any more.

“I don’t know. I have never been to a party at the station.” Nobody knew they were going to come. It was going to be a surprise.

Suddenly, Emily began to cry in her seat. The two-year old always slept in the car, but when she woke up, she always had a shock and started to cry when she noticed they were driving.

“Liv, can you please give Emily her pacifier?” The 14-year-old didn’t seem to hear her mom, as she had her headphones in her ears and scrolled through TikTok’s.

“Liv! Give your sister her damn pacifier!” Finally.

After two weeks in Europe, (Y/N) was already super annoyed. She tried to keep it cool, but it wasn’t easy to be with four kids and pregnant when she didn’t have her husband around.

___

Just a few minutes later, (Y/N) parked in front of the firehouse. She had been here before. Not inside it but she had dropped off her father a few times when his car was at the car repair.

“Ok! We are here! All out of the car!” (Y/N) picked up her youngest and followed the rest of the kids inside the firehouse.

She didn’t see many people downstairs, but around 50 people were upstairs.

“(Y/N)? Hey! You’re back! Where were you in the last few months? We tried to call you but you didn’t answer. We were so worried!” Bobby literally ran to her and hugged her as tightly as possible with Emily between them. “She grew up so much”, he said, reaching out to stroke Emily’s back.

“Yes. She absolutely did.” (Y/N) could see the worried and exhausted expression on her father’s face and immediately felt sorry for not even writing him and Athena a message that she and the kids were ok.

“May I introduce you to the team?”, Bobby asked after hugging the twins and Liv, who finally put away her headphones.

The 118’s Captain led his family to a bunch of people in uniforms.

“These guys are Eddie, Chimney, Hen and Buck.” (Y/N)’s breath caught in her throat. Fuck. The super-hot guy stood in front of her. With his uniform he looked even better that in his baby blue shirt he wore the last time. Why the fuck did she still remember what this guy had worn when they met in the bar?!

“Meet (Y/N), Liv, James, Cameron and Emily.”

“Hey! Nice to meet y’all”, (Y/N) said overly friendly, trying to hide the surprise, as well as Buck did.

“Grandpa? You have cake?”, Cameron asked Bobby.

“Of course. A party without cake isn’t a party. Come on, I’ll show you all.” Bobby led the kids away from (Y/N) and the team, over to the kitchen island on which many plates of cake were standing.

“’So… you are Cap’s daughter?”, a brown-haired man asked, who (Y/N) remembered as Eddie.

“Yepp, that’s me.” (Y/N) looked at Buck who looked just as surprised, as she felt.

“So, you are Buck?”, she asked him just as a try to build a conversation. She tugged gently on her shirt, as she didn’t want Buck to notice her baby bump.

“Uhm… yes. I am. Evan Buckley. So… these are your kids? You look quite young”, Buck asked and (Y/N) furrowed her brow until she realized, they haven’t talked about ages when they spent the night together. She was quite young for already having 4 kids. She had Liv when she was 16, but she barely told people, as she always got these judging looks.

“Yes, they are.” (Y/N) stared at the ground, unable to hold eye contact with the man she had a breathtaking night.

“Father’s not in the picture?”, Eddie asked and (Y/N) could see that Buck was relieved, that his friend asked the question, so he didn’t seem too suspicious.

“Um, no. He died 5 months ago. Car accident.” Instead of staring at the ground, (Y/N) now looked at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears, which always threatened to flow freely, whenever she talked about her late husband.

When she finally managed to make eye contact with Evan, she could see pain written over his face. Her husband died 5 months ago, around the same time, she slept with him. Had he been some kind of replacement? He knew they agreed to one night – no personal information, but it still hurt to know she didn’t actually feel the tiniest bit. She only had tried to compensate everything.

---

Around 3 hours later, in which the 118 got a small call once but came back after only one and a half hour, they all sat at the big table, because it was dinner time. Most of the time, (Y/N) stood on the sidelines, as she didn’t really feel comfortable around all these people she barely knew, and Buck. Nobody seemed to have noticed the baby bump which was covered under her shirt.

And now, (Y/N) even felt nauseous and had cramps in her lower belly. Her other pregnancies had gone quite well, except the last few months with the twins, but this pregnancy was terrible. She already had to go to hospital 4 times in the last 5 months, as she couldn’t keep anything down and had been severely dehydrated.

After only 2 bites, (Y/N) had to lay down the fork because she felt like she would throw up right away if she ate only one more bite. She had already thrown up breakfast and everything she drank today. She was lucky no one noticed she hasn’t eaten a piece of cake before.  

“Are you ok?”, the brown-haired man from before asked. Eddie? (Y/N) has always been terrible with names and couldn’t remember any. It took her 2 weeks to even remember Henry’s name after she met him, something he also made fun of, even years later.

“Uh yes. Just not feeling too great today”, she answered, trying to suppress the feeling to be sick. Her throat felt tight and her stomach felt like it was twisting and turning. The cramps were still present. She knew she wasn’t having a miscarriage as she once had one, and it felt different. The symptoms were pretty much the same, but she had another feeling. She had felt like something was missing, but this here wasn’t any better.

“You sure? You don’t look too good and you haven’t eaten much. Don’t you like the food?”, her father intervened now.

“The food’s great. Really. I haven’t been feeling my best today, that’s it.”

“Do you want one of the medics to take a look at you?” Bobby really seemed worried, but his daughter waved him off.

“Dad. Don’t make more out of it than it is.” Her dad made an acknowledging sound and (Y/N) thanked him silently with a small nod.

(Y/N) fidgeted with her hands, a nervous habit, she always did when she felt uncomfortable. Today, this many people were too much. She has never liked being around many people for a long time. She felt like everyone was staring at her and making fun off her or thinking of her as a disappointment when she did something wrong. Her kids were different, except of Liv. Liv came after her mom in these things, while the others luckily came after their dad and were the most social persons in this world.

Everyone looked at (Y/N), as she suddenly stood up, because a wave of nausea waved over her. As fast as possible she went to the restrooms, but only made it to the sink, where she threw up the bit of water she had managed to drink before. She rinsed her mouth and looked in the mirror. She looked like shit. Her skin was pale and her lips dry.

The door opened, and a woman stepped inside. She was around as tall as (Y/N) was and wore a wine-red shirt, that showed she worked at the 911 dispatch center. Had she been at the dinner table before? Or has (Y/N) just not seen her?

“Oh hey. Sorry. Just needed a break from out there. Who are you? I have never seen you here before. I am Maddie by the way. Chimney’s fiancé, Buck’s sister.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. Buck’s sister?

“(Y/N). Bobby’s daughter. Nice to meet you.”

“Are you okay? You don’t look too well.” Again, this question. No, she wasn’t ok. But she didn’t say anything, so everyone should stop asking her. If she wanted someone to know she wasn’t well, she would tell.

“It’s okay. Just not feeling my best today.” Maddie nodded.

“Ok.” She didn’t pry further to get information, what (Y/N) was very thankful for.

“Soo. You are Bobby’s daughter? Athena has never mentioned, that Bobby has a daughter. She usually talks about everything.” Maddie furrowed her brow.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.

“He doesn’t like talking about his private life too much.”

(Y/N) went back to the table, after she was sure she wouldn’t have to throw up again. But when she arrived at the dinner table again, she felt she was dizzy. Congratulations. First, she was sick and now she was dizzy because she didn’t drink or eat enough today.

She caught Bobby’s concerned gaze as he was looking at her, before everything went black.

___

“Heyyy! Here we go. You with us again?” She felt something painful on her chest and after a few moments she realized it was someone performing sternal rub to bring her back around. (Y/N) grumbled something.

When she tried to sit up again, there was a firm hand on her shoulder that kept her laid down.

“Damn, let me sit up if I want to. I am fine.” But (Y/N) noticed on her own how hoarse she sounded from being sick.

The hand suddenly disappeared from her shoulder, but when (Y/N) sat up, the hand was back at her back to steady her and kept her from falling over. Finally, she managed to open her eyes and caught look on the brown-haired man – Eddie. Evan sat directly next to her.

“We are just going to check a few things, ok?” All (Y/N) did, was giving an acknowledging sound from her.

The next thing she felt was a pulse-oximeter being slipped on her index finger and a blood pressure cuff on the other arm. She winced when Eddie inflated it and it squeezed tightly around her arm, which made her eyes well up with tears.

She had never liked the BP reading. When she was a kid, she cried freely as it made her arm feel like needles were jabbing it.

“Sorry.” Eddie was quick to deflate the cuff again after noticing the tears in (Y/N)’s eyes but she just shook her head to show everything’s ok. “BP’s 108/70. We are going to give you something to raise it again.”

“No! Wait!” (Y/N) frantically said. “I… I…” She made a sign for Eddie to come near to her so she could whisper into his ear without anyone hearing it. “I am pregnant but no one can know yet. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Okayyy… I think we should go somewhere more private.” (Y/N) nodded agreeing.

Despite the other’s confused looks, they made their way to the locker room. Once they were there, Eddie began talking again.

“Has this happened before?”

“Yes, I already was in hospital because of it but it is just this morning sickness. I can’t keep anything down and it makes me dehydrated.” When (Y/N) looked to her right, she could see Buck looking at them but he couldn’t hear anything, right? He wasn’t as near and it was quite loud upstairs.

“Mhm. I want to hook you up on an IV if that’s ok with you? I don’t want you to be as dehydrated as you are now and I figure you don’t want a trip to the ER?”

“Yes, if that is possible, please.”

Only a few seconds later, (Y/N) could see her dad storming into the locker room.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” He looked kind of mad but also worried.

“Ehm… It is complica…”

“She is dehydrated because she didn’t drink or eat enough. She just wants to be alone for a moment and I can give her an IV,” Eddie intervened. (Y/N) shot him a thankful gaze and a tiny smile. She liked Eddie. He was really kind. She couldn’t think of any of her friends, who would do that for her.

“Mhm. Ok. I am going to call Athena. She said she would be here earlier. I’ll come back later.”

Bobby disappeared as fast as he came into the room.

“Thanks. For not telling him.” Eddie smiled at her.

“It’s not on me. And I think there are going to be better circumstances for that talk. How far are you?”

“5 months.”

“Ah. May I ask…”, he hesitated for a moment. “Is it your late husband’s baby?”

“No.” You didn’t know for sure why you told him, but he kind of let you feel calm and safe. “We didn’t… you know… the time before he died. We argued a lot. Had a one-night stand just a few hours after he died.”

“You know the father? Were you able to call and tell him?” Eddie looked honestly interested while he put an IV bag out of the medkit.

(Y/N) shook her head before nodding.

“I haven’t seen him… until today.” Eddie looked shocked and raised his eyebrows.

“Today? Is he here? At the station?”

(Y/N) nodded guiltily and looked at the ground when she heard Eddie chuckle.

“Damn, tell me more. Who is it?”

“Buck.”

“Buck?” The firefighter looked even more shocked than before and you nodded again.

“I didn’t know his name we agreed to ‘no personal information’. Why would I know he worked at my dad’s workplace? God… when he will find out he is going to be so pissed.” Eddie shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t think so. He will understand. And hey. You don’t have to defend yourself.” She smiled at his kindness.

She watched as Eddie swabbed the alcohol pad over the back of her hand.

“I would recommend to close your eyes if you are not good with needles”, he suggested. But (Y/N) couldn’t. She needed to see what Eddie was doing, even though she wasn’t good with needles. When the firefighter pushed the needle in the back of her hand, she let out a small squeal.

“Told you to keep your eyes closed but you refused to listen.” She heard Eddie chuckle. “Do you have any other symptoms I should be worried about?”

“I have cramps”, she admitted.

“Lower belly?” (Y/N) nodded. Why couldn’t she just have been home. She would lie on the couch and relax, but instead she was here, being poked and prodded by a firefighter.

“Can I take a look?” She nodded again. Eddie pulled her shirt over her abdomen and pressed his palm on different spots. (Y/N) looked upstairs, and froze. Fuck. She forgot that Evan was still standing upstairs, looking at the locker room. Looking at her.

Her eyes widened. Why had she agreed to this? Why didn’t she insist on being ok and went home? Why was she so stupid? She wanted to slap herself for not thinking.

Eddie seemed to notice her sudden panic, the pulse-oximeter, which was still clipped to her finger, chirped in high pitched noises.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. Deep breaths. What’s up?”

“B… Buck.” The firefighter looked where she was pointing at and sucked in a deep breath.

“Ok. That’s ok. We’ll fix that, after we are finished here, ok? It’ll be ok. Don’t worry. Try to breathe with me, the baby won’t like you breathing like that.” Demonstrative, Eddie took some deep breaths. “Do you know the gender yet?”

(Y/N) could tell that Eddie was only trying to distract her but she played along.

“A… girl. It’s a girl. Again.” She laughed. Her breathing became slower, steadier.

“That’s great. You already told your kids?”

“Mhm.”

“How did they react? Are they happy?” Eddie grinned at her.

“Y… yes. They are. James was a bit d- disappointed at first. H- he hoped he would finally get a brother t- to play soccer with.” (Y/N) smiled. “But the g- girls were all over t-the moon.”

The brown-haired man, put an oxygen mask over her face, which she tried to pull off, but his hand was immediately back, to hold the mask in place.

“Let it on, please”, he said with a look at the pulse-oximeter which was still chirping. “It’ll make it easier to breathe for you.

(Y/N) nodded, even though she hated the feeling of the mask, which made her feel the opposite of ‘easier to breathe’.

“Can I have a listen to the baby’s heartbeat?” After he had seen (Y/N) nodded again, he took the stethoscope and pressed the diaphragm to her belly.

“Looks good so far. The heartbeat is a bit fast for my liking but it’s nothing too concerning, just take some deep breaths, ok?”

“Copy, Firefighter Diaz.” (Y/N) took some deep breaths.

Just a few seconds later, someone stormed into the locker room. Buck.

“You… you are pregnant?” Buck hoped that (Y/N) would tell him it wasn’t his. That it was her husband’s.

“Yes.” She was surprised that her voice didn’t sound as high and panicking as she thought it would. She was scared. Scared of Buck’s reaction, which became even more clear, as the pulse-oximeter started to chirp frantically again.

Eddie took a look and was surprised how high the shown numbers were.

“Deep breaths”, he commanded her. But she couldn’t.

“Who’s the dad? Is it mine? Or is there a tiny chance, that it is your husband’s?” Even though (Y/N) thought something like that would come out of Buck’s mouth, she felt disappointment deep in her. She hoped he would not sound as panicked as he was now.

“Your’s.” (Y/N) fell silent, holding her breath in anticipation of what Evan would say now.

“Oh… wow. I have to admit that is a shock. Why… why didn’t you tell me? I could have been there with you.”

“I didn’t have your number, your address, your workplace. Not even your name! I didn’t even know if you lived in LA or somewhere else! What should I have done?”

Eddie put the oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, that she just put off again, but she immediately put it back to the floor. She didn’t want to breathe in the oxygen. It made her feel lightheaded and nauseous and gave her a headache.

“(Y/N)! Damn, breathe properly now the baby’s not comfortable anymore. Buck, I think you should go now and let her breathe a bit without the stress, this conversation puts on her.”

“No, he won’t go now! Not until this conversation is finished!” (Y/N) glared at Eddie. She wasn’t sure if that were the pregnancy hormones speaking out of her which have made her a bit temperamental these last few months.

“What do you want to do now? Buck? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you want to be a part in the baby’s life? Do you want to be part in MY life? I need to know it.” She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Definitely the hormones which made her act strange at the moment.

“I don’t know exactly what I want to do now. But I don’t have a girlfriend. And I want to be part of the baby’s life. I want to be their father…”

“Her. It’s a girlie. Again.” (Y/N) could see Evan smiling a bit.

“Ok. I want to be HER father and spend time with her. And I think I would like to try to go on a date… with you. If you think you are ready. I liked you the last time we met, even though that could be because I had been really drunk that night.” Buck laughed and blushed a bit.

“I think… I think we can give it a try. I don’t know if I am ready for everything. But I do know I am ready for something. And maybe that could be with you.”

“Ok… uhm… great. And now you should really try to breathe properly with that mask. I know it’s not great, but even I can recognize how high your vitals are.”

She did as she was told. (Y/N) knew she liked Buck. He was cute. She wouldn’t have imagined to see a man like him blushing when talking about a baby and dating.

“I’m nauseous.” Eddie and Buck both looked a bit worried.

“Deep breaths. I think it’s just the IV and oxygen. I put some meds in the IV that should help with the belly cramps, that could make you feel nauseous.”

(Y/N) only nodded. She suddenly felt exhausted. The adrenaline of the day started to wear of.

“I think I’m gonna drive the kids home and we are going to relax a bit while watching some tv. Thank you for everything.”

“Wait. Stop. I won’t let you drive home alone. You don’t feel good and I wouldn’t like to know you don’t have anyone with you except you kids.” She nodded again. Evan was right. It would be stupid to not have anyone around her.

“I can come with you. Just if that’s ok with you.”

“Yes. That would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem. Shall we take your car?”

“Mhm.” She was thankful. She could really imagine Buck as a boyfriend. He is great.

---

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Evan laughed. He, (Y/N) and Liv were sat on the couch, watching a firefighter show, (Y/N) and Liv had been addicted to in the last few weeks.

“It doesn’t matter! This show is great!” Liv and Evan discussed about the mistakes in the show since around 10 minutes and it made (Y/N) smile. It was like a real family. Even though it hurt her a bit that it wasn’t Henry, sitting here. But let’s be honest: Henry would have never watched a show like that.

“That doesn’t change the fact, that you don’t use the saw like that. It’s just not safe!”

“Then just do not pay attention to the details.” Now, it was Liv laughing. (Y/N) hasn’t seen her daughter that happy in the last few months. She tried to cover up her emotions but it didn’t work completely. Her eyes started to burn and she felt a pressure building up. No, she wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of Evan. Her daughter. No.

“I’ll go to toilet for a moment.” She hoped nobody would notice she was about to cry, but her voice gave it away. She sounded hoarse and her voice broke at some point.

She locked the bathroom door and sank down to the cold floor, where she curled up, leaning her back on the even colder wall. Her hand was rubbing circles over her swollen belly. Damn it.

(Y/N) knew she missed Henry. She knew her kids have missed him every second since his death. But she was scared. Scared that moving on with Evan would make her forget her late husband. She heard a gentle knock on the wooden bathroom door.

“May I come in?” Buck.

“Ok.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She attempted to brush the tears away but it really didn’t work. Her eyes were still read, as well as her cheeks.

She got up to unlock the door, for Buck to come in. After he stepped inside the room, he closed the door again. He sat down next to her, and (Y/N) leaned her head on his shoulder.

“What’s up?”, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing.” Evan shot her a look, that said more than a thousand words.

“This honestly doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I don’t want to forget Henry. And I am scared. I have never had a relationship before him. And I still have cramps. And I still don’t feel too good in general. And I am scared of giving birth alone. And I am scared of everything else in my life.” Buck looked at her with a concerned expression and immediately pulled her into a hug as (Y/N) began to cry again.

“Ok. So, we first go to hospital, because these cramps make me worried, and then we can figure everything else out, ok?” He pressed a sloppy kiss on (Y/N)’s forehead, and she nodded.

“Mhm. But you need to help me get up, the baby is in the way.”

[lesservillain]

best friend!eddie x reader

cw: SMUT, unprotected piv, pregnancy scare, one sided feelings, sort of sad at the end? an: the prequel to baby daddy!eddie but could be read as a stand alone if you wanted wc: 3.4k

A few years ago…

Music played on the stereo in Gareth’s garage, filling the house through the cracked door that connected to the house. The host himself was passed out on his living room couch, the rest of the boys laughing at him for falling asleep. The only ones left at the party were Jeff, Grant, Eddie and you, the few other guests who came to celebrate their graduations left not long ago.

You rolled your eyes as they placed Gareth’s hand in a bowl of water, a prank that one of them heard would make someone piss themselves in their sleep. Instead of taking part in their stupid prank, you chose to help out with cleaning up. Empty beer cans and other snack bags started filling up the trashcan as you made your way around the kitchen.

“What are you in here doing, sweetheart?”

You turn to see Eddie leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, watching you as you pick up more trash.

“Trying to be helpful,” you say, shoving as much trash into the can as you possibly can. Eddie laughs, pushing off from the frame to walk over to you. He grabs the bag from the can and proceeds to tie it. You smile up at him. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he says after a moment of looking at you. You get an overwhelming feeling of domesticity as you watch Eddie take the bag out the back door. You watch him through the window as he places the bag in the can. Lighting up a cigarette, he waves at you from the cans, and you feel your cheeks grow hot from being caught staring. 

Eddie was your best friend. Has been since he moved to Hawkins back in 4th grade. The two of you met after you spent the summer in the trailer park where his uncle and your grandma both live in. You rolled with most of the kids there, but Eddie was like a new toy to you. 

He was hard to get out of his shell at first, mostly due to traumas you weren’t aware of at the time. In retrospect, you really pushed him hard, ever persistent in your daily trips to Wayne’s trailer to get him to come out. But when he finally did agree to play with you, the two of you became immediately inseparable. 

Everyone always joked about the two of you spending so much time together, laughing at the grossed out reactions the two of you would have at the mention of the two of you getting married one day. If your grandma was still alive, she would probably be distraught knowing that you had a massive crush on anyone other than Eddie.

After replacing the trash bag, you decide to join Eddie outside. The cool air feels amazing on your skin. The boys don’t have a lot of friends outside of each other, but when all of them start drinking and playing games they seem to generate a lot of heat in such a small space.

“Want one?” Eddie asks as you approach, smoke billowing from between his lips. You nod and he pulls out his pack. 

“Did you have fun?” You ask as he lights the cigarette for you, your hands brushing as he hands it over. The feeling of your skin touching felt like electricity through your hand.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, taking a drag. “I mean, I think it could have been just the two of us and I would have been happy. I’m just glad to finally not have to go back to that hell hole.”

“I’m happy for you, too,” you smile, taking a step closer to him. “Eddie, you honestly have no idea how proud I am of you. Like, I want to shout from the roof tops that Eddie fucking Munson graduated!”

Eddie giggles at your praise, swaying a bit where he stands from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed tonight. He stretches an arm out and you oblige, accepting his tight embrace. He smells like alcohol, weed, sweat, and notes of cheap cologne that he sprayed on earlier in the evening. It was a bit intoxicating in your current state. 

Drinking either made you super friendy or super horny, and tonight you were heading towards the latter. 

You would never admit it, but you’d been watching Eddie all night. There was an air about him tonight. Call it confidence or call it something else, but it was something you’d never seen in him before. It’s like he’s gotten a new found sense of life knowing that he was finally free to do whatever he wants in life. There was nothing left to tie him down and he knew it.

And, maybe unfortunately, it was doing something for you. You’d never really thought about Eddie like that before, your long time crush on Steve clouding your mind when it came to paying attention to anyone else. But something has���changed.

And after a shot or two that you took with a few of his friends from theater class (those kids are wild), everything he did just seemed to be doing something for you. You almost fell over when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stomach that you’ve seen a thousand times on on display looking extra lean and just…

“Hey, are you okay?”

You instantly went from feeling good to being super aware of the way Eddie’s body was touching you. With the way he was holding you, his hand rested just above your chest, almost resting on your breast. The veins in is hand seemed more prominent, the rings on his fingers suiting his hands well.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, letting go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. When he doesn’t say anything, you slowly turn to look at him. Which was a mistake, because the way he was staring at you took your breath away again. His big brown eyes stared into yours, lidded in a way that made you want to squirm.

“Eddie? Are you good?”

He doesn’t respond, only blinks. His gaze shifts, flickering back and forth between your lips and your eyes and you feel your stomach flip. 

This isn’t how best friends look at each other. Friends don't caress your cheek like he does. They don’t pull you in, making your fronts flush with each other. They don’t start to block out the light from the moon as they lean in. Their lips don’t meet yours, and you aren’t supposed to accept it, kissing them back.

But, before you know it, your kiss turns into kisses. Feverish and hungry, tongues dancing in sync like lovers do. You’re not lovers, but you feel that line blurring as your body is being pulled away. 

The two of you don’t disconnect until you suddenly stop. Eddie is the first to break off the kiss, reaching behind him to open the doors of his van where he pulls you in. You don’t protest, gladly jumping in and pushing him down so that he lays under you. You can tell by the look on his face he wasn’t expecting it. His eyes watch you as you pull the van doors closed.

Once they click together, everything happens quickly. Rushed touches and clothes flying in every direction, the two of you melt into each other.

Your perched in his lap, breasts are pressed into him with arms wrapped around his neck as you almost eat him alive. His hands rub down the expanse of your back until they land on your ass, palming you underneath your panties as you grind down against him.

Eddie is painfully hard under you. For the brief moment that you looked down at him, you were shocked at the size of the tent in his boxers. It was the one thing about him that you didn’t know anything about after all these years. It sent waves to your core that only made you feel things for him you’d never felt before.

In an attempt to speed things up, you let your hand trail down his chest, his stomach, and down past the hem of his boxers. Your brows shot up when you gripped him, his true size in your hand taking you by surprise.

“Mmmm, shit,” he moans under you, and your breath hitches. You watch him carefully as his face contorts in a way that you’ve never seen; a new side of Eddie that you feel privileged to witness.

And then his his hand is on your head, guiding your mouth up and down on his huge cock. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks with how far down your throat he tries to get you. But you do your best to take it like a champ. Especially with how he praises you.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” The words fall from his lips like flowing water. He lost the barrier to keep his thoughts to himself as soon as you took your bra off. “Please don’t stop.”

How could you possibly deny him? You can’t. You blow him better than you ever have before, until his thighs are clenching around your head. You were fully expecting him to blow his load in your mouth at this point and you would have let him. But he pops you off of him and holds you in his hands until he can catch his breath.

“Eddie, whats wrong?” You ask confused.

“I’m sorry,” he says with heavy breaths, “Didn’t want to waste this chance by cumming too quick.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at his words, insinuating that he wanted more than just a quick bj in the back of his van. You’d never thought you’d be doing this with him, but in your current state Eddie could tell you to kill someone you would without question.

“Okay,” you say with a nod, shifting your body until you were sitting in front of him. There was an awkward pause as the two of you stared at each other. You waited for him to make the next move but it seemed like it was never going to come. You’re sure Eddie is just as wrapped up in the moment as you, so you decide to go ahead and make the next move.

You crawl towards him until you’re sitting just above his lap. His eyes never leave your face, round and in awe of you as you move closer to him. You place a hand on either shoulder and you can feel how tense he is.

“Eddie, are you sure you want to do this?”

He’s frozen for a moment. Until his head begins to nod so quickly he could have given himself brain damage from the speed.

“Yes, yeah, I am. As long as you are…”

“I do, too,” you assure him. You look around the messy interior of his van for a moment before looking back at him. “Do you, um, have a…”

Eddie’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of his head as his face shifts into that of a state of panic. He starts to babble, words incoherent until he’s able to form a sentence.

“I-I-I don’t, um, I don’t have any…condoms.” The last word comes out in a hushed tone, almost ashamed as he admits it.

“Well, shit,” you say, finger coming to tap against your lip as you think. You’d never done it without a condom before, and even if you trusted Eddie, the last thing you two needed was an accident to happen.

“I’m sorry, I just--I’ve never done this, so--”

“Wait, what?” You say, stopping him in his tracks. He looks up at you like he said something wrong and it kills you. “Eddie,” you try and keep your tone as neutral as possible, “Are you…still a virgin?”

Eddie swallows, eyes now looking anywhere but you. Eddie’s never brought up anything about his sex life before to you, but you’d not really been all that open with him for that very reason. But you’d always assumed it was just a mutual respect thing, not that he didn’t have anything to share to begin with.

“It’s okay if you are,” you add, “It doesn’t bother me.”

Eddie looks at you again, though now with cheeks pinker than ever. He sighs, nodding once again, but with less vigor than before.

“Yeah, I’m a…virgin.”

Something inside you flips when you hear him admit it out loud. A giddy feeling inside takes over your thoughts as you come to a realization.

“Do you want me to help you change that?”

You barely recognized your own words, and the look that Eddie gave you told you that it came out just as suggestive as you intended. 

“Are you sure?” He stutters out, “I don’t want you to do it because you feel like you have to--”

“Shhh,” you shush him, placing a finger on his lips. “I’m doing this because I want to,” you say, lowering yourself so that the tip of his cock sits right at your entrance. You feel it jump in your hand at the contact. “You just have to say the word.”

Eddie’s eyes are locked where the two of you touch, his breath hitching as your juices coat his thick head. 

“Please,” he says, still looking between you. “I want to.”

You smile, a heat taking over your body as you realize what you’re about to do. But, you try not to let the idea of taking your best friends virginity take you out of the moment. You had to be in charge here and you didn’t want to let Eddie down.

Without a second thought, you start to lower yourself down on him. He’s bigger than you’ve been with before, so you take your time to work him in since you didn’t get any prep before hand.

“Wait,” he says suddenly, stopping you just as you get the tip all the way in. 

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask, starting to pull off of him. But his hands land on your hips to keep you in place.

“I want to do this. Like, you have no idea how much I want this right now. But, what about the no condom thing?”

You blink, thinking quickly over your options. The two of you are too intoxicated to go and get a condom right now. Plus, he’s already technically inside of you, so what good would one do that pulling out wouldn’t, right?

“Just…when you’re about to cum, just tell me and I’ll get off. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

Eddie mimics zipping his lips, and you roll your eyes at his playfulness.

“Can I continue now?” He nods again, giving you a thumbs up.

You try to get yourself back into the moment by slowly moving up and down, focusing on the feeling of Eddie’s cock inching deeper and deeper inside of you with each movement. Eddie’s head rolls back and you feel his hips bucking subconsciously beneath you. 

You decide not to torment him anymore and fully seat yourself in his lap. He bucks forward, face colliding with your chest as he’s taken aback by the feeling. 

“You okay?” You say with a giggle, though you’re barely holding back a moan yourself at feeling his cock fully stretching you. 

“Mhmm,” he whimpers into your skin, the grip he has on your hips almost bruising. 

“Do you want me to give you a minute?”

He shakes his head. “No, please move.”

And so you do. You take your time at first, really to give yourself ample opportunity to prepare to take him at a faster pace. But with the sounds he’s making, you feel yourself getting wet enough that you can bounce yourself on his cock with more ease. He keeps his face burried in your chest as you move up and down on his cock.

Eddie’s hands loosen on your hips and move themselves up your sides until they land on your breasts. He holds them around his face, fondling and groping as they rub against his face. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and teething at it softly, sending little shocks of pleasure through you.

All of the feelings were honestly a lot for you to take in. And the more you looked down at him the quicker your own orgasm was approaching. You let yourself forget about his pleasure for a moment as you chased your own high, fully seating yourself to let the thick patch of hair at his base rub deliciously against your clit. You rolled your hips against him and he whined into your chest.

Suddenly, your vision goes white as you feel yourself cumming on his cock. Your body starts to shake, and you’re pussy spasms around him, coating him in your cum.

“Is that you cumming? Holy fuck, I--”

There wasn’t much time to react as your pussy was suddenly being filled. Eddie’s body tenses under you as you’re only just now coming down from your own high. But when you finally realize what was happening, you jump up as fast as you can, head hitting the top of his van.

“Fuck! Damn it, Eddie!”

He snaps out of his post orgasm bliss and jumps up after you, also hitting his head on the ceiling in the process. 

“Shit! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Eddie’s never been more panicked in his life than right now. Not even when he almost got caught by Hopper selling out in the woods. “I can fix this! I-I-I-”

“Eddie, how the hell are you going to fix this? Fuck me, this is my fault. I should have just said no when you said you didn’t have a condom.”

“No, please don’t be mad,” he says, grabbing your arms and giving you the most pathetic, sad look you’ve ever seen. 

“Do you have any money?” You ask him after a moment.

“I probably have like $3 to my name right now. Why?”

“Shit, I just paid my car payment so I only have like $10. I was going to say we could run to the pharmacy and get a Plan B.”

“What’s that?” 

“It’s like a pill that’s supposed to keep you from getting pregnant. But they’re, like, $20 or something crazy like that.”

“I’ll go to Rick. I can probably get some supply from him and sell it in a couple days.”

“I think it only works like the next day. It’s called the morning after pill for a reason I think.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

“What about Wayne?”

“I can’t go to Wayne.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t you ask your mom?”

You sigh. He had a point. There was no way you could ask your mom without her asking why. And money was already tight so there wasn’t a good excuse to make up for you needing $20 out of the blue. 

“You know what, it’s fine.” You say, convincing yourself that it was. “My period should be coming soon, so I think we’re okay.”

“How soon is soon?” Eddie asks, clearly not convinced.

“Like, in a week and a half? Usually around the beginning of the month.”

Eddie breaths in, then out, head slumping. He drops to his knees before you and you can see his body start to shake.

“Eddie?” You drop down to his level and get a look at his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and it sent an arrow through your heart to see him so upset.

“I’m so sorry.” His words come out watery, his head starting to shake. “I didn’t want this to be how it happened.”

His words hit you like a truck. Of course he didn’t want his first time to be like this. He probably wanted it to be with someone he loved, not with his friend, and definitely not with the possibility of getting you pregnant. 

Guilt washed over you. You should have been the better person and not given in to your sick desire to share something like this with him. 

But it’s too late.

You can only hope that this doesn’t ruin your friendship forever.

than you for reading!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Gravity Always Wins

Day #3 Prompt: Apples | Word Count: 6464 | Rating: M | POV: Eddie | CW: Language, Sex | Tags: Modern AU, Meet Cute, Apple Picking, Bakery Owner Steve, Sports Guy Steve, Smitten Eddie Munson, Platonic Stobin, Gareth, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

Also right here on ao3.

"Oh shit, oh fuck," Eddie says as the apple tumbles out of his grasp. He looks down in horror as it falls, like a slow-motion car wreck happening right before his very eyes, as it lands directly on the guy's head that was picking below him.

To add insult to injury, it hits with a very audible thunk. 

Shit, he shouldn't even be allowed on a ladder. That's like the first rule of the universe or some shit. Who signed off on this? Honestly.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Eddie asks, coming down the ladder, watching as the guy, the very pretty guy, rubs at the top of his head, only slightly worried he's about to get his ass kicked in a goddamn apple orchard.

But the guy is laughing.

He's laughing, and gorgeous, and Eddie can't help but smile. 

"Goddamn you, Newton!" Eddie shouts, dramatically shaking his fist in the air, eyes trained on the sky, as if he had nothing at all to do with this, and that gravity alone was solely to blame.

"Gravity always wins," the guy says, then adds, "I'm good, honest, you just startled me. I never thought concussion number four would be at the hands of an apple. But here we are."

Eddie feels his face fall.

"Oh, oh no, I'm kidding. I was just teasing you. I'm fine. Look? It was just a little apple," he says, leaning over to pick up the offending piece of fruit. 

Eddie eyes it in his palm, "That's definitely gonna have a bruise."

"Like my head," he teases, and Eddie reaches out and pops him on the shoulder, making him pull back, giggling. His sweater is soft under Eddie's hand, and Eddie wants to reach out and stroke it again, but stops himself. Content to just stare a second.

He's truly something to look at. Goddamn.

Eddie just smiles at him, and when he straightens back up, he hands the apple back.

It is a little apple, and Eddie probably shouldn't have picked it in the first place, but he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. He saw an apple, and picked it.

Looking at the bushel this guy has selected, though, gives him pause. They are evenly sized, and brightly colored. No blemishes at all. Perfect apples, for the perfect guy.

Eddie's are a little misshapen and odd. The freaks, if you will, but he thinks that's pretty damn fitting.

"Guess you'll have to make applesauce–" the guy starts, and then stops, clearly searching for Eddie's name.

"Eddie," Eddie offers.

"Eddie," he repeats. "I'm Steve."

"Well, Steve, I would make some applesauce if I knew how," Eddie laughs.

"You could always come by my bakery slash coffee shop," Steve offers, sort of shaking the basket slung over his arm, "That's why I'm picking apples today. So I can make some seasonal items with local apples. Customers eat that shit up."

Eddie thinks he's being picked up. Maybe. Or not. He's never very good at getting those signals right. Gareth says he's hopeless, and sometimes that feels more accurate than he'd like to admit.

Like, right now. Is Steve hitting on him, or trying to drum up business? 

Eddie decides he honestly doesn't exactly care which it is, "Sure, I'd love to be the guinea pig for your apple pie."

"Well," Steve says, lowering his voice in a way that makes Eddie feel funny in a good way, "I never said pie."

"Oh, well, in that case…" Eddie teases, trailing off, acting as if he's going to walk away.

But, Steve just laughs at him, and digs in his wallet, producing a little business card: Harrington's. Since 1955.

"My, you look awfully good for your age," Eddie says.

Steve laughs, "My grandma and grandpa ran it before me. And they didn't think they'd have anyone to take over the family business when they retired. And then I turned up, with nothing better to do."

Eddie nods. He's definitely going to stop by Steve's family business, not even for the not-pie, but just so he can see more of this guy, "Well, in that case. When should I show up?"

"Tomorrow, anytime after three?" Steve suggests, and Eddie is nodding along. Tomorrow after three sounds perfect to him. 

Eddie pulls up in the alley behind the back of the bakery, as directed, and can't really believe he's here. Like, what does he know about baking? He can't even bake a box of brownies without messing them up somehow.

But, Steve is gorgeous, and this isn't an invite he's about to turn down. He's a fool, but he's no dummy. Eddie pushes on the back door, and it's heavy, but slowly glides open. 

"Knock, knock," Eddie says, and then hears a commotion. Lots of yelling. Like a fight is happening. 

His fight or flight starts to kick in, and flight will always win for him, but…he pauses.

He knows that kind of yelling from Uncle Wayne, and as far as a fight goes, it's surely a one-sided one, because Steve's staring up at the mounted television over on the wall, screaming at the refs of a football game, as he stands inside an industrial kitchen, at a stainless steel prep table, peeling apples.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Steve the Baker is also Steve the Sports Guy? That wasn't advertised on the label at all. 

Eddie's been hoodwinked. The wool pulled straight over his eyes. Was bamboozled by a pretty face in a warm-looking sweater, right there in a goddamn apple orchard.

He's starting to plan his escape, when Steve turns to look at him, and smiles, waving his paring knife in the air, "Hey! You made it!"

"Hey," Eddie says back, shucking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. Steve sounds excited to see him, and maybe the game is almost over. He could deal with it for a few minutes. Steve was very pretty in that sweater.

He squints at the screen, and the score is 0-0 and it's still the first quarter. He doesn't know a lot about sports, but he grew up with Wayne. He at least understands that this means the damn thing has just started. 

"You care if I leave the game on?" Steve asks, flashing him those warm eyes, and Eddie finds himself nodding along with that idea, like a damn idiot. No, he doesn't want to watch sports, but…that face.

That face will make him break his most solemn of vows: no sports. He just won't tell Wayne or Gareth. He'll gloss right over that part, and nobody will ever have to know that he spent the whole afternoon with football blaring in the background of his maybe date.

Because, as good looking as this guy is, and as much as Eddie would like to eat this guy, and his baked goods, alive, he's sure this isn't going to go any further than this afternoon. It can't. What would they talk about? Baking and football? Eddie doesn't know anything about either of those topics. But he can surely bumble through one afternoon. That'll be fine. Eddie can do anything for one afternoon. All the odd jobs he's ever held has proven that.

Hell, if he plays his cards right, maybe he can get one night out of it, too.

But long-term? He can already see the writing on the wall, and it bums him out, just a little bit. He hadn't been this excited about a guy in a while.

Steve hands Eddie a peeler, and Eddie goes to work, peeling the whole bushel of apples that Steve has washed and laid out on a towel. He does know how to work a peeler, at least. That was his job for potatoes at Wayne's, when he was far too little to do anything else.

"So, tell me about yourself. Do you always assault men with apples?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks over at him and smiles.

"Only the cute ones," Eddie flirts, and loves the blush that stains Steve's cheeks as he looks back down at the apples he's evenly slicing. 

"No offense, but you don't seem like the apple picking type," Steve says, and Eddie laughs. He's not wrong. "What brought you out there, especially all by yourself?"

"It's part of my contract. Free apples from the orchard and free pumpkins from the patch," Eddie says, then realizes that doesn't explain anything at all, adding, "I work nights at the haunted hayride. As a scare actor," Eddie says, then holds his hands up like a zombie.

Steve's eyes are big, and it's awfully cute as he laughs.

"So, free apples. I mean, how many apples or pumpkins can one man eat? But free is free."

"Maybe I'll teach you how to bake something using them," Steve suggests and Eddie nods. He'd like that. A lot, he thinks. Even if that's all he gets out of the day.

"Deal. So, what's on the menu for today?"

Steve grins, "Apple fritters. Cupcakes. There's this apple maple upside down cake I want to try. A cobbler. Someone suggested an apple pie."

"They sound smart," Eddie banters, and Steve just keeps smiling.

"Have you ever made a dessert pizza?" Eddie asks, meeting Steve's eyes.

"Like from Pizza Hut?" Steve questions, and Eddie nods.

"No, but we totally can. I've never thought to try to make it myself."

Eddie smiles at the thought. He imagines homemade would be even better than what used to be on the buffet at Pizza Hut when he was younger.

Steve moves from slicing apples to dicing them very small and fine. In perfect little squares that are very impressive to Eddie's eyes. He can barely cut anything evenly, so that seems like quite the feat.

Eddie watches as Steve goes between watching the knife in his hands so he doesn't cut his fingers off, and the ballgame. 

"You should come to the hayride," Eddie blurts out.

Steve smiles, "I don't really do scary things, or anything that risks a head injury these days."

It's just a trailer pulled around the grounds, nobody touches anybody. Couldn't if they wanted to, but if he doesn't like scary, he doesn't like scary. Then he remembers something Steve had joked about in the orchard after Eddie had beaned him with that apple.

"Have you really already had three concussions?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah," Steve answers, "at least three that I know about. But not from falling apples. I'm fine. I promise."

"How'd you get them?" Eddie asks, because he isn't sure how one gets that many concussions unless they've been abused, and his stomach drops. Maybe he shouldn't have asked that. Maybe it's none of his goddamn business. Maybe-

"I got one from a dickhead in high school that blindsided me during a stupid fight, and then the other two from football plays in college, a couple weeks apart. One was a dirty, on purpose, helmet-to-helmet late hit, the last one was during a quarterback sneak that went wrong."

Eddie has no idea what that means.

"What's that mean?" Eddie asks.

Steve looks at him, "Not a football guy?"

Eddie shakes his head adamantly, "Not an any sports guy. Sorry."

"That's okay," Steve says, "A quarterback sneak is when you only need to move a yard or two down the field to, say, get across the goal line to score, or get a first down, and the linemen in front of you, the big guys, push forward and the quarterback tries to carry it over himself. No hand-off. No throw."

"And you were the quarterback?"

"I was. I was a little too exposed, and one of the defensive players came in and hit me helmet to helmet in the dogpile. Snapped my neck backwards."

"I'm sorry," Eddie says.

"It happens. Most of the time you go into concussion protocol, and clear it. Mine wasn't even caught immediately after it happened. Not even by me. I hopped right back up, and it wasn't until I'd thrown a few uncharacteristic picks later, that they decided something must be wrong with me and pulled me out of the game and straight into the tent. Once the migraines started a few days later, and never really stopped after all the other symptoms went away, that was the end of the line. No more football. No NFL draft."

Eddie swallows, that's fucking rough.

"They forced you to stop?" Eddie asks. 

"Yes," Steve says, then must change his mind, "No. Not really. The specialists suggested it. I don't think they could have forced me to comply. Hell, they'll play you into the ground. But it would have been a risk to draft a known concussion magnet. So, it was a choice I had to make for myself, and I chose to stop, to preserve what I had left. Stop it at the occasional migraine. Of course Robin, my best friend, would have flayed me alive if I'd done anything else. She was the first to call it, and she was right."

"But you were good enough to go pro? If you hadn't taken those hits?" Eddie asks, quietly.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?" Steve answers with a shrug, like he doesn't really care one way or the other, but he must care. He'd have to. Eddie knows he'd care if he couldn't play the guitar anymore, and he's never been anywhere near going professional.

"But you still watch it? Football? Even after losing the chance to play?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles, "Hell yeah. I still love the game. Even if I can't play."

Then he points at the screen, "I'm friends with #52. In the white. We went to college together. It all worked out better for him than it did me, but I couldn't be prouder of him. A little jealous, sure. But really proud, too."

"Do you ever get to go to games in person, or is that impossible with the bakery?"

"I try to hit one a season, as that's about all the favors I can call in with my friends. Coming in at three a.m. to get shit ready is a hard sell, let me tell you," Steve laughs, "That and they don't know what they're doing. So, it's just easier to just stay here. Watch on television. Scream at the refs from home instead of the stands."

"I know all about the screaming. I live with my uncle, and he has a sport for every season, I swear it. Getting him to move to Indy with me was no small feat, let me tell you," Eddie laughs, "But he needed to retire from the plant. He still works, because he's a stubborn old man, but now he's at a local hardware store instead, bossing clueless jackasses around. His words, not mine."

Steve laughs, "He sounds great."

"He is, and of course you'd think so, you sports guys always stick together."

Steve laughs, nodding like it's true, and then they go back to work. Baking, watching the game, and cheering on Steve's friend to a close game win.

And that evening, Eddie goes home with a still warm pie, and a phone number for Steve burning a hole in his pocket.

They spend the next two weeks texting back and forth, with a few short phone calls sprinkled in for good measure, but it hasn't gone beyond that. Eddie isn't sure if Steve's just busy or uninterested in setting up a second date. He wishes he'd just tell him. They could just be friends, but Eddie would rather know that now, instead of later once he's already gotten swept away by the idea of dating him, for real.

Eddie looks at his phone as Chrissy does his makeup, "Eyes up, Munson."

Steve hasn't responded, but he's probably asleep. Eddie puts his phone on the table, "Yes, ma'am."

She laughs, and gets him ready for another night of a constant loop of visitors to the maze. They've done this for a few years now, and they're all good at it, and it's not bad seasonal work. It helps pay the bills for the band to keep trying, stay plugging along. 

Eddie knows they aren't gonna make it big, not now, that window has closed. But they still make music together, good music he thinks, so taking on odd jobs to still do that has been worth it. 

Maybe after thirty he'll have to settle down, but for right now? He's just having fun.

"Tell me about the boy," she sing-songs, then changes her mind, "No, keep your mouth shut until I'm done with your face."

Eddie laughs, and keeps his mouth shut, as directed.

"But tell me later, though."

And he nods. He definitely will. Gareth's sick of hearing about Steve, so if he has a fresh pair of ears to listen to him yap, he's definitely all-in on that.

It's actually gotten chilly tonight, but when the second-to-last trailer full of guests pulls around the corner at quarter to two, Eddie sees Steve sitting next to a woman that has to be Robin. She just looks exactly like what Eddie imagined every time Steve's told a story about her. And she looks very grumpy about being awake in the middle of the night.

Eddie is stoked, and rushes around from Gareth to Jeff to Goodie to Chrissy, pointing out Steve, and then hurrying back to his spot for the last trailer. They don't really care all that much. He's sure they're happy for him, but they definitely just want to finish doing their jobs and get the fuck out of here for the night.

Steve's lingering by the employees only sign when Eddie exits backstage.

"You came," Eddie says, makeup hastily scrubbed off his face. It's a big no-no to interact with the guests in character, even if it's the guy you've been playing phone tag with for the last two weeks. He wasn't sure Steve would stay, but he did, and Eddie's fucking thrilled to see him.

"This is Robin," Steve says, slinging his arm over her shoulders.

Eddie starts to say hi, when the door bangs closed behind him, and he turns to see Chrissy on her way out.

"Night, Eddie," Chrissy says, as she passes by them, her dirty dead cheerleader costume slung over her arm.

"Was she the cheerleader?" Robin hisses, and Eddie nods. 

"Hey, Chris, wait!" he hollers, and drags her closer, making introductions. He's no dummy, he knows what that question entailed, and he has no problem playing a hint of matchmaker. And if they're talking, that'll give Eddie some time alone with Steve. 

The fact that Steve showed up at all, late at night, was a sacrifice of sleeping time. Eddie knows it, and appreciates it. So, he won't keep him. He'll send him back home to bed, or straight to the bakery, wherever he needs to be next, so he can get ready to make the donuts as Steve likes to say. 

"I'm glad you came," Eddie says, running his hand up Steve's arm. 

"Of course, I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you as the evil undead."

Eddie grins at him. He really likes this guy. 

"The bats were really believable."

Eddie grins, and tells him all about how he helped design them with his friends. They built the pulley system in Gareth's garage on the cheap, but it works, and well.

Steve nods along, then pulls Eddie into the darkness, where the floodlights don't reach. Eddie goes, willingly, sliding his hands along Steve's waist. 

And then they're kissing, and Eddie couldn't be more fucking thrilled. 

Steve is interested. And Eddie is definitely interested.

Steve's tongue slides along his, and Eddie squeezes him tighter, pulling Steve into his body, wanting to be closer. As close as they can get here in this dark alleyway. 

When Steve pulls back, he presses his forehead to Eddie's, and Eddie tries to look into his eyes this close-up.

"I've wanted to do that since the orchard," Steve says.

"Fuck, me too," Eddie admits. He'd like to do more, too, but Robin is yelling that her alarm is going off, meaning Steve's got to get to the bakery. 

Steve's day is just beginning, and Eddie's is just ending. Their schedules couldn't be more out of sync if they tried.

But Eddie reluctantly lets him go, they say their goodbyes, but Eddie is already scheming how he'll get to see Steve next.

The next morning, Eddie forces himself out of bed at a normal hour so he can go to the bakery. Gareth follows him to the van, tagging along without an invite, but Eddie doesn't care, as long as he can see Steve, it's all good.

Steve's behind the counter, and he grins when he sees Eddie come through the front door, "Hey!"

"Hey, yourself," Eddie says back, looking at the handwritten menu board. "Suggestions are welcome."

And Steve just laughs, and then produces a piece of cobbler that looks sticky and delicious.

"Sold," Eddie replies, taking the plate from him, and then nodding towards Gareth, "and whatever he wants. This is Gareth."

Gareth is looking in the glass case, paying no attention to either of them.

"So, this is the famous Eddie?" a girl who is not Robin asks, sidling up beside Steve at the counter.

"That's Eddie," Steve says with a smile, then introduces her, "This is Di."

She makes a shooing motion with her hands, "Go. Sit with him for a minute. I'll watch the counter," Di offers, pushing Steve from behind the register, and Eddie's grateful.

"Thanks, Di," Steve answers, pulling his apron off over his head, showing a strip of bare skin as it goes. His stomach is hairy and Eddie gulps, probably audibly, like he's in a cartoon.

He wants, he wants, he wants.

Steve picks up his coffee mug, and grabs a piece of cobbler for himself.

"Hey kid, head's up," Eddie says, and Gareth looks just in time to catch Eddie's wallet as Eddie tosses it to him. "Pick something and pay the nice lady."

"Yeah, yeah," Gareth says, and goes right back to looking at all his options.

Steve leads Eddie over to a table in the corner, and they sit and get to talk face-to-face, for the first time since their first afternoon here. Yeah, sure, he saw Steve last night, that was just a brief hi and bye.

It's nice to sit across from him again, and even nicer when Steve slides his hand forward, lacing their fingers together. Miraculously Gareth doesn't come over and cockblock him like the little shit that he is, instead lingering by the counter. 

Eddie looks back at Steve.

"You know, I don't really date," Steve admits, "I mean, the bakery hours keep my nightlife non-existent. And I've gotten used to that. But I really like you."

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. Is he blushing? That's absurd, but he thinks it's probably true. He likes Steve. A lot. And he can deal with weird hours for Steve, he's damn certain. Dates at three in the afternoon? Awesome. He'll have just rolled out of bed a couple hours before that half the time anyway.

"But, I'd like to try. If you want to," Steve says, and Eddie nods.

"Yeah, I want to. I really like you, too."

Then the phone rings, and it's something Steve has to take, and Eddie glances at him one more time before he holds open the door with the jangly bell for Gareth to exit.

Steve's still looking at him, watching him go, so Eddie winks, and it makes Steve smile.

There's no plan, but Eddie knows he's gonna date the shit out of Steve Harrington.

Turns out, the whole dating with opposite schedules idea was way easier said than done. Eddie works every weekend night, all fall long, because that's the busy time. He works some weeknights, too, but those are easier to trade around for with his friends. So, weekends are definitely out, and he needs date ideas that don't mess with Steve's sleep schedule.

He's reading the paper that Wayne left on the coffee table as he sits on the couch and eats his cereal, when he sees that the local high school football team is playing next week, but that's on Friday. Duh. Friday Night Lights. Even he understands enough about football to get that that's a reference to the night they play. He may have needed three senior years to graduate, but he's not that dense. He keeps reading, and sees that the JV football team plays on Tuesday and the junior high team on Thursday. That's an idea. He doesn't really know what that means, but he knows who would.

"Hey, Wayne!" he yells, and when Wayne rounds the corner Eddie asks, "Tell me. Which is a better game to attend: JV or Junior High?"

"Game of what? Tiddlywinks? Dragons and Dragons?" Wayne prods, teasing him. Eddie damn well knows Wayne remembers what DnD is. He bought enough of those books for him in high school, it has to be seared into his old man brain. 

But Wayne glances over at him from his recliner he's just sat down in, waiting for Eddie to spill it.

Eddie lowers his voice and mumbles, "Football."

"What'd you say, I didn't hear you?" Wayne drawls, but he's grinning like he heard exactly what Eddie said.

"Shut up, old man," Eddie teases, "I'm sort of dating a guy. He likes football. Used to play. I thought it might be nice to take him to a game, and I obviously can't do a Friday night game this year because of work. But I thought Steve might like to go to one of these other games?"

"Steve, huh? This Steve have a last name?" Wayne asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes. Wayne doesn't need to try to vet this guy like he did every single person Eddie dated in high school. He's a grown man now, almost thirty. He picks better these days.

At least, he hopes he does.

"Harrington," Eddie answers, "and you're ignoring the question. JV? Junior High?" Then points his finger at the newspaper, crinkling it, "Or the local flag football team plays on Sundays. Help a guy out. Jeez."

But Wayne is just staring at him, mouth slightly open. Eddie's never seen him this shocked in his life. And Eddie did some wild shit in high school that Wayne swears made him go gray and bald.

"Yes, yes, I'm willing to go to a game. We're all shocked. Make fun. I have it coming. But close your mouth before you catch flies."

"No. Just. Steve Harrington, Ed? You, my nephew, who hates all sports sight unseen, is dating Steve Harrington? Heisman Trophy winner as a sophomore, that Steve Harrington?"

Eddie just shrugs, "I don't know about all that. He runs a bakery."

Wayne lets out a breathy laugh, "Right. He runs a bakery."

"He does," Eddie confirms. 

Wayne picks up his phone, puts on his reading glasses so Eddie knows he's serious, and finally turns the screen towards Eddie, "This your boy?"

Eddie smiles. He's younger, but yeah, that's definitely Steve, "Yep, that's Steve."

"I'll be damned, I knew he was from Indiana, but I didn't expect him to come back to our neck of the woods to run a bakery."

"You know my boyfriend, Wayne?" Eddie teases, lilting his voice, and batting his eyes.

"Anybody that followed football in the last decade knows of your boyfriend, Ed. He was gonna be a star, a franchise quarterback, for any team lucky enough to draft him."

Steve had said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to go pro, and now Eddie is doubting the validity of that, "He said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to make it pro."

Wayne laughs, "That boy would've been a first round pick. He's just being humble."

"Oh," Eddie says, "that's pretty cool. It's too bad he got hurt, then."

"It is," Wayne agrees.

"If he was as good as you say, why didn't he just go pro right out of high school?" Eddie asks, thinking this over. He's really not sure why you'd take the risk playing college football before you could make the big bucks.

"That's not how the NFL draft works. You have to be three years past graduation from high school before you're eligible. And what else are you gonna do for those three years, if not play ball at college?"

"Oh," Eddie says, then adds, "Good thing I wasn't good at football. I'd have been an old man trying to enter the draft."

Wayne laughs. It wasn't so funny when Eddie was bearing down on twenty-one and still trying to get that damn diploma, but they can laugh about it now. Water under the bridge.

Eddie then asks, "So, about the game…"

Wayne steered him towards the JV game, but told him over and over that all of the options were beneath the level of football that Steve Harrington was used to watching, or playing. 

Eddie decides to take him anyway.

Eddie buys the four dollar tickets at the gate from a mom sitting at a card table with a metal cash box in front of her, a button with her son's face pinned to her coat. He gives her a ten, and tells her to keep the change when she holds it in her hand, unmoving.

But that's just because she's staring at Steve, kind of starry-eyed. He is attractive, that's undeniable, and Eddie puffs up a little that he's the one getting to date him tonight.

Then Steve is accosted for pictures no less than seven times on the way to the stands, and Eddie wonders if he's made a mistake here. He didn't think it through, didn't understand that Steve would be known here.

Eddie escapes to the concessions stand, and when he comes back, arms full, there's a group of kids surrounding Steve. And Steve's engaged, and giving them what they want, clearly, but this isn't a good date. This seems more like he's trotted Steve out for the wolves. 

Everyone else finally clears out as kickoff happens, leaving them alone, and Eddie takes his seat next to Steve on the bleachers.

"Uh, did I fuck this up?" Eddie whispers, handing Steve a tray of nachos.

"No. No way, this is great," Steve reassures, a big smile on his face.

"I truly didn't understand that you'd be recognized here," Eddie says, "I don't know anything about sports. I'm in over my head. I just thought, well, maybe you'd like to see a game. Even if it's just kids."

"This is great, Eddie. You did great, honest," Steve says. "I'm not recognized outside of football. Don't worry. This isn't an everyday occurrence. This is a very isolated incident, because of where we are. Some of these kids probably watched me play. I'm not that old."

Eddie laughs, some of the tension draining out of his shoulders. He definitely didn't want to make Steve uncomfortable.

And if he is, he never lets on. Instead, Steve explains the game to him as it goes, and it's a slow enough pace that Eddie thinks maybe he's understanding it. The football Steve had been watching on TV in the bakery had moved so fucking fast he had no hopes of following, not even when there was an instant replay to slow it down.

Steve's never seen these kids play before, but he can read them all like open books, calling plays, calling probable results before they happen. And he's right. Nine times out of ten, he's right. 

He should probably coach football. But maybe that's too painful? Eddie's definitely not gonna bring it up. 

They leave at halftime, and Eddie's sure it's only partly because Steve has to be up in less than eight hours. 

He still thinks it went well, because Steve leans over in the van and kisses him.

Eddie suddenly feels like he can't feel his face, even as he kisses back, hand cupping Steve's face, just wanting to touch him.

Eddie likes him so goddamn much, and as Steve pulls away, Eddie feels like they are no longer struggling to make a connection. They've done it. They're getting there.

Over the next few weeks, they have half-dozen more half-dates. Eddie catches the first quarter of a college football game, Steve's alma mater, on the television at the bakery with him before having to head to the maze for the night.

A few days later they grab fast food in Steve's car, and Eddie's definitely trying hard not to make a mess. Steve's car is nice, and Eddie's only used to his shitty van.

They carve out an hour to just lay in Steve's bed, kissing and touching, and eventually fucking before they need to part ways again.

Eddie wonders if they'll ever get to actually sleep in the same bed with shifts this ass-backwards from each other.

Spooky season comes and goes, and Eddie's back looking for some kind of other temporary work. He's complaining to Steve that nobody is hiring, even when they say they're hiring.

"Come work at the bakery," Steve says, "then maybe we'll finally get to see each other for longer than an hour at a time."

Eddie starts to say no, starts to deflect in a knee-jerk way, but then decides he'd really like to do that, "Really?"

"Really," Steve confirms. 

"I don't know how to bake, you know that," Eddie teases.

"You're not coming there to bake. Please, no. But you could run the register. Right?"

And Eddie thinks he'd like to do just that, so he nods and nods.

So, they work together, and sometimes go home with each other after. Both of them dozing on the couch while Wayne watches football, or cuddling up at Steve's place while Robin whines about it being her turn to cook dinner.

And Eddie ends up loving Robin, because working with her at the bakery might be almost as fun as it is working with Steve. She's not there all the time, but when she is, they run the front together, while Steve and Di have the back, and it's the least work feeling work he's ever done.

She's funny, and snarky, and loves Steve so much Eddie can feel it rolling off of her in waves. She kept him from getting hurt further. She made sure he'd be okay, even if Eddie's sure Steve felt anything but at the time.

He talks up Steve's baked goods, upselling easily, turning a half-dozen box into a full dozen more often than not. Eventually he sneaks around while Steve isn't looking, and hangs his own picture on the wall, labeled underneath as Employee of the Month, as a joke.

When Steve finally notices it, it stays. Eddie's part of the place, now. And he couldn't be happier about that. Harrington's is fun, and relaxed, and he's honestly never gotten this invested in a job before. He wants it to succeed, because he wants Steve, and the rest of his friends, to succeed. And yeah, he's sure Steve has a lot to do with that, but still, the fact that he's enjoying it is a bonus he hadn't foreseen coming.

He helps clean up every afternoon, so they can get out of there faster, together. Today, with the cold winter air blowing, snow flurries are blustering around, stinging his face as they hit. So, he hugs Steve from behind as he locks the back door in the alley where they park, hiding his face in Steve's coat.

"Hello to you, too," Steve flirts, and Eddie smirks as soon as he realizes this is gonna be a short afternoon, because when they get home, they are definitely going straight to bed. 

And they do just that. It's cold outside, but the warm winter sunlight is pouring through the windows, made brighter by the snow on the ground, and Eddie's in love.

Steve looks fucking gorgeous, the light hitting him that way, letting that glow he always has about him shine through from the inside out.

Eddie runs his fingers over his body, his athletic frame that sees no playing time, anymore. He runs to keep in shape, but Eddie thinks he'd run too if he had that kind of albatross slung around his neck. If he'd lost the thing he loved most, the thing he'd hung his whole hat on.

If he'd lost possible rings and millions of dollars.

Steve's almost twenty-nine. He'd be hitting his peak, his best years of play.

But Steve's happy. He's not a bitter guy. He loves his bakery, and he loves his friends and-

"What's," Steve breathes out, easing up on his pace, "what's with the face?"

"I love you," Eddie blurts out.

Steve smiles, so fucking wide it feels like it cracks open Eddie's chest, "Well, don't look so sad about it then."

And Eddie laughs, reaching up to grasp Steve's hips, helping him regain his momentum. The spiral he was headed down on Steve's behalf, broken.

Steve doesn't want Eddie dwelling on the past. Especially if he doesn't do it himself. There are no pity parties happening in Steve Harrington's orbit.

"I love you, too. Now fuck me like you're not gonna cry about it."

Eddie huffs out a laugh, so fucking charmed and delighted by this man that he loves. He'll fuck him all right. 

"Hold on then, big boy," Eddie teases, and thrusts upwards, carrying the weight of Steve with him off the bed.

Maybe instead, they'll just hit their primes together.

Eddie starts to become a morning person against his will as the months wear on, and Steve will have to pay for that, eventually. But not today.

No, today he's more than fine with going to bed at eight-thirty, dicking down his boyfriend, then afterwards both of them will be sound asleep by nine. 

Gareth is hanging around the bakery more and more, and before Eddie realizes it, Steve and Di have taught Gareth how to bake. And he's somehow good at it. Gareth eventually weasels his way into a full-time job, too. Which gets Eddie's wheels turning. Maybe by next fall, Eddie can surprise Steve with tickets to an NFL game to watch his friend play, because together they are slowly building up enough of a staff to run the store in their absence.

It doesn't have to just be Steve anymore. It can be all of them.

Next fall, Eddie thinks.

And he smiles.

He's planning ahead, now. Planning for a future, one that he intends to share with Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-spooktober to follow along with the fun! 🍎

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Meeting him (part I)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

You can find the reader's origin story here.

Warnings: no proof reading, eat the rich baby kind of vibes, reader is uncomfortable at first, not impressed!reader, language, deep down Bruce is the kind of guy who likes to be bullied by a pretty girl

When your boss picked you to go to Bruce Wayne’s charity gala, your first thought had been: “Oh I’m going to be such a little nuisance!”.

It was only when you started to wonder how to dress, that you realised that the event was actually being a nuisance for you. You took so much time trying to decide what to put on, what kind of makeup and hairstyle to do. You knew appearances were important, and you didn’t want to be at your disadvantage in such a place.

And yet, even if you had put on your best dress, your best shoes and your favourite jewels that your grandma gave you right before her death, you felt… cheap.

You were clearly out of place and you knew that people were looking at you from the corner of their eyes. You were getting uncomfortable. But you went to Falcone’s events when you were a child and you knew one thing: when you are among vultures, you can show no weakness. So you tried to keep you back straight and to look like you were doing great. There was no way you would give the joy to all those rich assholes to make you run away. It was only fueling your hate against them. 

You had thought you were going to eat and drink well at this gala, but all this money disgusted you too much to actually enjoy yourself. You saw too many people dying from hunger in the streets to be able to bear any of this. 

You were looking around, taking mental notes of everything before you felt a presence behind you. You turned around and were greeted by a tall and broad man, wearing the nicest suit you ever witnessed. He gently smiled at you but you saw it didn’t fully reach his eyes. It was just a polite act. You instantly recognised the dark hair and the blue eyes. You hadn’t thought Bruce Wayne was that big though. 

It didn’t mean you were impressed. 

Not one bit. 

The man seemed to observe you with interest - probably because you weren’t all over him at the instant you saw him - before extending his hand for you to shake.

“Good evening, you must be Mrs L/N.” he kept smiling

“Indeed, Mr. Wayne. I guess it wasn’t very difficult to spot me in this crowd” you said as you shook his hand politely. 

“What do you mean?” he asked

“Oh don’t pretend, I know I’m not dressed as nicely as your usual guests.” you replied.

You perceive a little glitter of curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Bruce Wayne was probably not used to being talked to like that, especially from women. But you weren’t afraid or impressed by anyone. How could you when your past was full of dangerous people? Bruce Wayne seemed to think of a proper reply before deciding to be honest and he nodded his head.

“I’m grateful your newspaper agreed to send someone. I know you do not have a very good opinion of me, which I absolutely respect. I’ve read the paper you wrote about me last week, about the fact that my company took part in the destruction of the Amazonian forest and in child labour in poor countries. It was truly an impressive work of research and I’m thankful you saw it, wrote about it and published it. I had been too busy with different projects to realise any of this was happening. I would have appreciated it if you had let me know first hand though.” he told you to which you raised an eyebrow

“And? Did anything change?” you replied

“Indeed. I want to let you know that all of this stopped and that I’m doing everything I can do to repair the bad my company caused. It won’t happen again. I promise.” He said and you could tell he was sincere or at least trying to sound like he was.

“Good. At least you take responsibility. And if anything else happens again, I’ll be there to make sure you do know about it.” you hummed which cause the ghost of an amused smile to appear on Bruce’s face

“I don’t worry about it indeed.” he paused. “By the way, you write very well. I’m glad to be able to put a face on such… sharp and true words” he added, and you let him show how surprised you were

“People don’t usually like my sharp words” you shrugged but you were yourself getting quite curious about the man now.

“It did hurt quite a bit but… I wish that my spokesperson would write that well. Or that I would myself have such a way with words. At least it helped me to see the truth and… Well it was quite refreshing. People don’t usually talk about me that way, or just about my last nightstand.” he explained

“Oh yes, don’t worry, I really don’t care with whom you slept last night as long as you didn’t abuse or rape them” you smiled and Bruce Wayne’s eyes widened before he let out a very amused laughter.

“I didn’t think your words were also that sharp in person” he commented “Do you want us to go somewhere else a little less noisy so you could do the interview you had prepared?” he offered to which you agreed.

On one hand, you were surprised with how the evening went by.

Your first disgust for the man started to change into real curiosity. You were still unimpressed by him, but you could tell there was something more than just the rich philanthropist playboy act. Bruce Wayne had secrets. But unlike usual people, you didn’t seem to be able to find a way for him to spill them for you. Something was unsettling about him. You wanted to discover so badly what was going on; you were a curious cat.

On the other hand, Bruce Wayne quickly understood that not only were you good with words, you were also good at asking the right questions. More than once, he was about to let go of his “Brucie” persona because of how smart your interrogations about him or his enterprises were. At some point, you were even met by silence because the man had no idea how to answer your question about all the “toys” that Wayne Enterprises was producing and yet never let the army, the police or the government use. Actually, you were wondering who was buying those equipments and why it was so difficult to find who it was. Bruce asked you how you knew about this and you let him know you dug into his financial reports. 

His silence was a challenge for you. 

As the discussion kept going on, you realised you now wanted to know everything about the man, his real personality and all his secrets. The persona he was using in public was pure bullshit. You might have rolled your eyes at him once or twice.

Bruce tried his best to not react, but deep down he had no idea what to do. He had thought it was going to be an easy interview and that once he would have you sit down with him alone, he would have been able to manipulate you, so you could finally write something nice about him. He realised he had never been more wrong in his whole life. He also realised that the more he was feeding you his usual answers to journalists, the more you were pressing the subjects. He just couldn’t make you believe him and his sweet little lies. He couldn’t charm you either. Bruce could also tell that his attitude got the exact opposite reaction he wanted from you. He wanted you to relax around him, but as time passed, the more you were eyeing him as if you were certain that he was a lot darker and a lot more dangerous than he wanted everyone to believe.

Bruce hated to admit it but he found you incredibly attractive. 

Of course you were beautiful, but you were also so smart and observant. You were ruthless to him, in a polite manner which was even worse. You were merciless; you were asking the questions you had to ask, without care for his ego. He didn’t know if he should ask you out on a date or ask you to work for him. At some point, he managed to finally say something that made you laugh (it was a self derogatory comment) and he decided on the first option. 

A part of his mind knew he was playing with fire with you. Still, he asked you out. 

You thought about refusing at first, but then agreed. You needed to know what the great Bruce Wayne was hiding. For you, it wasn’t a “real” date, it was just part of your work.

At the end of the interview, you were more than happy to come back home, your head full of new theories about the man.

Alfred joined Bruce, surprised his master was still sitting down fifteen minutes after your departure.

“How did it go, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked

“Awfully” Bruce replied “Asked her out though, and she said yes” he added

“I’m not too certain if that’s a good thing or not, Master Bruce” Alfred raised a questioning eyebrow

“I don’t know either” Bruce hummed

Bruce Wayne fell asleep that night, wondering what the fuck happened tonight and wondering why he was so excited to see you again.

--

PART 2

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@esposadomd

[mrchiipchrome]

The Best Kept Secrets...

W.C. - 3.7 k

a/n: all Spanish is in italics bc i'm lazy.

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

Homecoming! From Barcelona’s youth academy to Manchester United and back again, read more about the incredible journey Ona Batlle and Y/n Leòn have made on their way to first team football at the Spanish giants…

The Red Devils lose 2 Spanish superstars as Batlle and Leòn prepare to leave in the summer, read more here…

A package deal! Manchester United stars switch rainy England in exchange for sunny Spain, will we finally get an insight to what makes them so great?

That’s what most of the tabloids had sounded like as soon as you and your girlfriend announced that you were leaving the club that had housed you for more than three years, the club that had helped you develop as players and people. 

It was bittersweet, you had gotten attached to it after all like anyone would but it was time for a new challenge, and that was apparently having to deal with your older sister every hour of every day.

But having Ona by your side made everything miles better, the constant playful annoyance with your sister melted away as soon as her warm hand slipped into your own, the huge smile on your face something not even Mapi could wipe away.

Although that was a problem, well for Mapi at least. She wasn’t the only one who noticed the small seemingly insignificant touches between the two of you, the playful teasing, the stolen glances when you thought no one was looking. 

It drove her mad, it was clear that the two of you had some serious feelings for each other and the fact that you were stupid enough to not see it was making her more annoyed than it probably should’ve. You even lived together, how could you not see how madly in love you were with each other?

But to start from the beginning, when Mapi came to pick you both up from the airport.

“I really hope it’s Alexia coming and not Mapi.” You groan into your girlfriend’s shoulder, sitting on the suitcases that you’d placed into the luggage cart, the sleepiness from the flight translating into grumpiness when you felt her hand stop threading through your hair.

“Come on, I’m not that bad.” The second you hear Mapi’s voice, your head snaps around, and despite you seemingly having complained about her only moments before, you wrap the smaller woman up tightly in your arms. Ona stays back and watches the interaction with a soft smile on her face.

“She didn’t cause you too much trouble, right? I know how she can be.” Mapi looks past your body to meet Ona’s eye, the brunette smiling softly in return and shaking her head.

“Slept like a baby the entire time.” Ona exposes you, joining Mapi in pinching your cheek like an old grandma would.

Slapping away both their hands, you maneuver around so that you can grab the luggage cart, gently pushing it in the direction you thought Mapi had come from.

“Amor, you don't even know where she’s parked, you have to wait for us.” Your sister’s eyebrows furrow at the affectionate nickname, but even more so at you actually listening to the shorter girl, since you were almost globally known to be stubborn beyond comprehension.

She’s even more confused when you let Ona sit in the passenger seat, seeing as it was your designated seat that you’d fight for if you had to. It all made her even more suspicious of you, something had clearly happened in England, more than likely between you and the girl next to her.

“When do you two get the keys to your apartments?” Mapi asks, her eyes trained on the road despite her talking. Ona looks back at you, almost questioningly but as you shrug in return, she decides that it’s best to just bite the bullet.

“I think we get them next wednesday, right amor?” Smiling softly, you nod your head at her so as to say that you agree.

“Oh, well you’ll just take the couch then for now?” Mapi asks you, not seeing the utterly confused look on your face, why would she think that you would sleep on the couch when you were perfectly fine sleeping in the same bed as your girlfriend?

“No, we’ll take the spare room.” There’s still some lingering confusion running through your mind but when Ona practically tells you ‘hey, she’s your sister’ you just decide to not think about it anymore.

Arriving at the house your sister shares with her girlfriend, you waste no time in disappearing out of the car and walking straight into the house. It had been a while since you’d seen the better of the pair and you didn’t want to delay your reunion any longer than you already had.

“Ingrid! I wish you could’ve come to pick us up instead, María was so annoying.” Enveloping the Norwegian in a bear hug, she quickly squeals as her feet leave the floor momentarily, but soon enough she hugs you back.

“My favourite Leòn, it’s so nice to have you home again.” Ingrid’s hands cup your face as she makes sure to really look at you, the last time you’d met in person had been at christmas almost 2 years before and there was no telling how much you’d grown into your features over facetime.

“Can you two stop bullying me, por favor?” Mapi groans as she comes into the kitchen, carrying most of your luggage, Ona entering just after her with the lightest of the packing in her arms.

When Ingrid’s eyes scan over the shorter girl, who shifts uncomfortably under what’s practically her sister-in-law’s gaze. But it’s clear that Ingrid approves when she sends the defender a bright smile, quickly bringing her into a hug of her own.

“You must be Ona, Y/n’s talked about you a lot.” Ingrid shoots Mapi a look as both you and Ona start blushing madly, the two of you shuffling out of the room under the guise of getting the room ready.

“There’s something going on there.” Ingrid notes out loud, telling herself to ask you about it later.

“Sexual tension, they need to get it out.” Mapi yelps as Ingrid slaps her arm harshly, the childish defender not expecting the assault.

Upstairs you and Ona were enjoying a soft moment of your own, with the defender laying atop you with her head on your chest, listening to the steady beating of your heart that speeds up every so slightly when her hand traces soft shapes into the skin just below your ribs.

Her head follows with the steady rise and fall of your chest as you breathe deeply, and as your hand starts to thread through her hair softly she can’t help but kiss at the underside of your jaw, nipping every so often just to hear the melodious laugh escaping your lips at the tickling sensation. 

“You’re so beautiful, I adore you, I love the way you see the world and how you don’t fear being yourself, I love the way your mind works and even more just how great you are. Anyone who can look at you, know you, without feeling even the slightest bit of envy at the fact that they aren’t you is someone robbed of basic emotions. I love you so much that I just want to.” You wrap your arms around her body tightly, using so much strength you could without hurting her as you hug her tightly to your body.

Despite the smaller girl tearing up slightly at your heartfelt confession, she giggles lovingly when you hug her, pushing her face further into your neck.

“You know, there’s a beach not too far from here, we can go tonight when the oldies have fallen asleep.” Your soft breath against the shell of her ear has Ona shivering in anticipation, feeling a soft kiss being placed against the side of her head.

Feet slapping against the steps of the stairs wake you two from the little moment you were having, the knocks of the door startling you two even more, not that it matters seeing as the two women already knew of your relationship, right?

“Shh, they’re sleeping.” Both you and Ona have to keep from laughing at Ingrid’s hushed tone, and at the thud of your sister’s body as it meets the floor. But as the door closes, the two of you fall into a quiet fit of laughter, nothing stopping you.

Safe to say, that was the first time of many Mapi was confused by your ‘friendship’.

Over the next week, you and Ona could be found cuddled up anywhere, from under the apple tree standing proudly in the backyard reading together to the couch and even the roof (how you two even got up there in the first place Mapi didn’t even know.)

You were everywhere and if you hadn’t been her sister, Mapi would’ve probably killed you for being so oblivious to Ona’s feelings. 

“They can’t see that they love each other, I’m going crazy.” The older Leòn complains to her girlfriend, who just continues to read her book like Mapi hadn’t even spoken in the first place, which only makes her groan harder.

“María, it runs in the family. It took you almost a year to realise that I liked you back.” The couch shakes with the force of which the woman in question slams her body into it with, her hands quickly running through her hair.

“But they’re so oblivious, they need to just-” Mapi gestures around with her hands like it would tell the other woman everything she needed to know, which it seemingly does.

“I know, but we have to let them figure things out themselves, we can’t meddle.” Ingrid sends a fierce glare towards her girlfriend, almost warning her of the consequences if she were to try pushing you and Ona to get together prematurely.

“Okay, but I’m not happy about it.” Crossing her arms and pouting, Mapi quickly gets a kiss pressed to her lips, a sneaky smile forming on her lips as she pretends not to notice the action.

“Playing hard to get then, are we?” Ingrid giggles out, settling her body over Mapi’s lap, placing kisses all over her girlfriend’s face. The sound of their giggles surround the room, filling it with joy that’s hard to replicate.

“Can you two not be gross for two seconds?” The two women on the couch look up when your voice echoes through the room, seeing you and Ona on the last step of the stairs, your hands joined together as your nose is almost turned up in disgust.

The two older women laugh when your girlfriend slaps the back of your head, clearly not approving of your words.

“Amor, it’s their house, they can do whatever they want.” You grumble in response, lifting your free hand to sooth the ever so slight throbbing in the back of your head.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re just about to go get our keys, so yeah.” Mapi and Ingrid watch as you and the shorter girl make your way to the door, another slap landing on the back of your head when you don’t wave goodbye.

“She’s so in love with that girl.” Your sister remarks to her girlfriend again as they see you climb into the rental car you’d gotten as you waited for your actual car to be transported over from England. They see the way you open the door for her and how you smile oh so timidly at her as she grasps your hand in  hers.

“No meddling.” Ingrid points at Mapi, her stern gaze once again telling the shorter woman that she wasn’t fucking around.

“Yeah, yeah.” 

The realtor explained everything, from how you could move in directly to how everything was already in the apartment, ready for the two of you to pack up. As the key finally gets dropped into your hand, you almost breathe a sigh of relief, not wanting to stay out there any longer.

But as soon as you entered the apartment, a loud groan fell from your lips, the boxes stacked on top of each other something that would take up the majority of your coming week. The rolled up mattress in the corner of the living room was the one thing you found to be positive, well except for your girlfriend’s hands on your waist.

“What are you thinking?” The shorter girl gets up on her tiptoes, her lips meeting your neck ever so slightly, tiny butterfly kisses being pressed all over the column of your neck.

Humming softly, your fingers tangle with hers over your waist, swaying your bodies back and forth in an almost dance.

“I’m thinking that we take the mattress, place it on the floor then we order some pizza and just ignore all the boxes in here.” You mumble out just loud enough for her to hear, feeling her smile against the skin of your neck. It was somewhat of a tradition, seeing as that’s what you had done when you first moved in together.

“I think that’s a great idea.” She whispers, her lips directly besides your ear just to get her point across even better.

After you order the pizza, you start moving some of the boxes out of the way to make room for the large mattress that’s all wrapped up. You loosen the belt containing it after enough space is created, watching it spring out and flop down on the floor.

It’s not long after that the pizza arrives and it takes even less time to pay for it and bring it back up to the apartment, the two of you plopping down together on the mattress as you start to eat.

“We have to start packing for camp soon.” Ona breaks the blissful silence with her whispered words, another groan falling from your lips, it was no secret that the spanish federation were unethical in their treatment of their players, especially with the threats of revoking the player licenses if you declined the call up.

“They can stick their call up where the sun doesn’t shine.” Ona’s soft giggle warms up your entire being, like it always did, she just had that effect on you no matter what.

“Yeah I know, but we have to make the best of it, don’t we?” Her hand comes up to cup your face and you lean into it, her thumb stroking your cheek softly.

Pulling her hand off your face, you drag her up off the soft foam of the makeshift bed. One hand wraps around her hip whilst the other one falls to the middle of her back, a light tune appearing from between your lips.

Swaying her body around to the tune, the two of you relish in the shared moment, the one so fleeting that even the most secure hands wouldn’t get a grip on it. Ever so often the hummed tune would change, sometimes to something slower, sometimes to something quicker, all that mattered was that you could stay there in that moment, all wrapped up in your lover's arms like nothing else in the world mattered.

Soon enough there were more than a few kisses being exchanged between you two, lips moving against each other sweetly in an almost synched rhythm. 

“I love you so much.” With your bodies pressed up all tightly, you could feel her heart beating as her chest pressed tightly to yours, and in your mind you could only imagine it joining yours in a shared rhythm, a single heart beating for the both of you, a single heart beating for the same purpose, one deviating from what most thought.

She lays her head upon your chest, your hand on her back tracing up and down her spine as her short breaths tickle your collarbones.

The next day you two start on packing for the world cup, picking up different pairs of clothing and stuffing them into your bags haphazardly. You were both leaving for Australia within hours, not knowing that you’d come back as world cup champions.

Sitting together on the plane, you were both wrapped up under a blanket during the entire flight, sleeping for a while until you started playing card games together, not being bothered much by your teammates much to your surprise.

The group stages passed by in the blink of an eye, with both you and your girlfriend having masterclasses on the field, your shared room an asylum away from the loud group of trainers that seemingly only enjoyed the power aspect of football.

Beating Switzerland in the round of 16 was easier than you’d thought, but with a hattrick from you there was really no denying Spain’s dominance, quick and instinctively moving, Spain was the team to beat.

The Netherlands were the next team to beat, and it was nothing if not rather simple to beat the footballing giants, they’d managed to slip a goal by your keeper but there was no coming back from the two goals scored.

After that you had to beat one of the most on form teams in the entire tournament, Sweden. It wasn’t as easy this time, but ultimately you got it done without too much fuss, sending them to fight for the bronze medal against the host nation.

And then at last, the final. The final against England, a team that would be so hard to beat, nonetheless, you were ready to send them home with their tails between their legs, and with a goal (that would ultimately win you the golden boot) in the 20th minute you did just that. And so, you returned home to Spain newly crowned as champions of the world.

World champions who had to spend ages making their apartment a home right before the official season started, but not without help from their friends. 2

It became something of a team bonding activity when Mapi invited practically the entire team over to help with the ‘packing problem’, with you only finding out when they all turned up at your door asking to come in.

“María I swear to god, you have to stop inviting people over.” You groan as you open up the door to Alexia’s smiling face, Mapi sitting on a cardboard box further into the apartment.

“We were told you needed help, so we’re here to help.” Alexia says, pushing past you and into the space, the rest of the women following with.

“Alright baby Leòn, where do we start?” Grumbling at Lucy’s words, you point at a section of boxes you thought she’d be able to help with, mainly things that needed building like bookshelves and the couch.

“Okay everyone, some of you are going to help with the easy stuff and some with the more difficult. We’ll make a game out of it, the team that assembles the most furniture and packs up the most boxes wins, I don’t know, a batman figurine?” You speak, some of the girls venturing over to Ona’s side of the room and some coming over to yours,  like they already knew what the teams would be.

“Starting in 3…2…1, go.” With that everyone is off, you and Lucy quickly discard the instructions and build the coffee table on free hand, Irene and Ingrid being a bit more careful as they assemble the bookcase.

After 20 minutes, it’s about even with you and Lucy having assembled the coffee table and gone through three or so boxes of random stuff that needed organizing, the rest of the girls on your team having put together more than a few things. But Ona’s team were just as efficient, about 70% of every cardboard box being gone.

Ripping up a new box, Lucy quickly starts laughing quietly, pulling a stuffed lion out of the brown box that she shows to virtually everyone.

“This yours, baby Leòn?” She asks, wiggling it in front of your face. Trying to take it from her, it quickly ends up in Mapi’s hands.

“No way, El Tigre. You still keep him?” She asks you wide eyed, like she couldn’t believe that you’d kept the plush even after all these years.

“Of course, he’s even got a girlfriend now, Ona thought he looked sad all alone in our bed.” Pulling out the small lion that was left in the box, Mapi looks at the small pink bow near its ear and smiles, even if you were technically an adult now, she would never see you as anything but the tiny little baby she’d gotten to be a big sister to at only 4 years of age. The four year old that had chosen the lion stuffie that was currently in her own hands.

She hugs you real tight, the women around the room all looking on in confusion at the two of you and the emotional moment being shared. Slowly she separates from you, a confused look on her face.

“Wait, ‘our’ bed, as in you and Ona share a bed?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowed up in a way that was totally Leòn, your brows furrowing in the exact same way.

“Yeah why wouldn’t we?” You ask your sister, your girlfriend coming up to clutch at your hips, your arm falling around your shoulders. Mapi looks at the two of you as realization dawns on her face, wow she really is oblivious.

“Wait you two…?” She points between you two quickly as Ona leans up to kiss your cheek, catching on to the memo much faster than you had.

“Amor, did you forget to tell your sister that we’re dating?” Ona asks, looking up at you with that adoring kind of look that makes everything so clear for everyone, of course you were dating.

“Oops…?” Mapi slaps your arm as you look at her cheekily, her own girlfriend coming up to place a kiss against her cheek, the two oblivious sisters both turning a bright shade of red.

During your life you had kept few secrets from your sister, but this one was probably the best one, even if it wasn’t meant to be a secret.

Like the saying goes, the best kept secrets are the ones never told, and well that was fitting for you.

[ichxraaa]

the little things ft. nanase haruka

⤷ sometimes haru can´t help but wonder f you wud be better with someone else, someone... less boring.

⊱♥︎ is the free! fandom as dead as a ghost town? probably, do i care? not at all, i have been watching the last season and this little thing came up, i have many feelings about haruka nanase.

Haruka wouldn’t necessarily call himself boring, but if put side by side with his friends he could. He doesn’t have Asahi’s boldness, or Nagisa’s bubbliness, or Kisumi’s way of making anyone feel welcome, much less Rin’s ease to break the ice stating that even while having a girl’s name he is a boy, and of course he is far from having Makoto’s wit to start a conversation with any topic. 

And after the first awkward stage of your relationship breaks, the one from the first 3 months give or take he begins to worry about it in a way he simply didn’t care about before. 

He finds it odd, new. The past year he has been so confused and then hesitant to take your friendship from just that to a relationship that he never really thought how things would be once you were together. 

And it’s been bothering ever since he accidentally heard a conversation you had with a friend last week when he went to pick you up from the library. 

“…But seriously, what do you two even talk about?” She laughs, and you laugh with her. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say more than three words together”.

“You just haven’t been lucky then, but don’t worry about me, Haru is plenty interesting even when he is quiet”.

And your answer eases him, and yet he can’t help but be bugged about it in an intrusive way that shows up even when he is trying to eat. 

Right now you’re lying next to him. Your feet are on his lap and his are next to your hips. Sitting on opposing sides of the couch you’re both reading. He can see you’re really focused by the way your brows have furrowed. 

Is this really what you’d like to be doing right now? It is Friday night and even if he has practice tomorrow morning, you don’t. 

“Do you wanna do something else tonight?”

“Mmm?” Your eyes lift from the page with a curious look headed his way. There’s always something in the way you look at him, so openly and intensely yet kind and soft that has him nearly blushing.

“I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go out or something…”

You smile, hand reaching for his calves and softly massaging the hard muscle. “Not really, do you want to go out?”.

“Not really”.

You laugh and put your book down on the floor while snuggling into the armrest. He inadvertently moves to give you room to accommodate yourself.

“Do you wanna watch a bad movie and order take out?” You ask.

Haru smiles, softly and  nearly missable from the untrained eye. 

Sometimes Haru worries you’re gonna get bored of him, he frequently quotes his grandma as a source of wisdom, he eats nearly the same stuff every day and he is obsessed with water. 

If only he knew those same particularities are such a big part of why you fell in love so quickly, why you went to bed dreaming of the day where you would be bold enough to tell him how you felt. Except he had beat you to it.

Sometimes he worries you’re gonna get bored of him, but fortunately right now his biggest concern is what kind of mackerel dish he’s gonna get for dinner.

[cuteniarose]

Thanks for the tag, though you should know you’re putting me through unmeasurable amounts of mental torment (/JOKING, just so we’re clear) because I barely ever listen to music 😅

Tagging @upsettimyspagetthi this is your problem now bestie (also I have no other friends on here lmao)

Top 5 On Repeat tag game

@powdeeee @creampuffqueen @mushed-kid

[bubbly-parker]

~Stiles x Reader Best Friends to Lovers~

warnings: Angst, family fights, bullying by family member(grandma), body insecurities, plus size reader, f reader, SMUT: face sitting, oral both m and f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP UP) 18+ NO MINORS I'll tell your Mom! Stiles and Y/N are 18 yo in this and in their last year of highschool.

summary: After another nasty comment about your body by your grandma you stormed out of the house, your best friend Stiles picked you up and decided that today would be the night he shows you how hot you really are.

probably like 5-6k words ? just guessing here

REQUESTED? : YES

spoiler : Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful

a/n: my insomnia is kicking my ass rn, I have an exam in 5 hours its 3 am and I can't sleep so enjoy, also if things don't make the most sense in some parts of the story it's because it is 3am- the ending was rushed i have no brain energy left to think of a real ending I'll revisit this story in the next few days and fix it if necessary enjoy and don't forget to please reblog if you liked it and leave a request right here

"So, Do you want to talk about it?" Stiles asked, looking over to you in his passenger seat.He could tell you were in a sour mood before he even picked you up.

You were rounding the street, leaving your house behind. You didn't want to answer at all; tears were already burning behind your eyes, threatening to spill. "No" was all you managed to choke out before your tears started freefalling. You hung your head low, watching your tears drop on your lap.

Stiles had no idea what was going on; just a few hours ago after school, he dropped you off at home, and you had a bright smile on your face knowing your family was over for a visit and you hadn't seen most of them since moving to Beacon Hill with your parents two years ago. In the last two years, Stiles and you have grown inseparable; he's the best friend you could have ever asked for, so when you texted him at 1 in the morning asking him to come to pick you up, he knew something was off. He could always tell.

It wasn't unusual for you two to go on late-night drives, but the way you had conveyed your message seemed off immediately: "You need to come pick me up right now." Stiles didn't hesitate; he threw on whatever clothes he could find and took an extra hoodie with him, sneaking past his dad and out into the cold night air. He tossed the extra hoodie onto Roscoe's back seat, knowing you probably didn't even put a jacket on. And he was right, driving towards your house. He saw your silhouette standing in your driveway, no jacket on, just your PJ shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he swore were missing from his closet. You walked towards the jeep, and when Stiles stopped, you entered without a word, put your seatbelt on, and all you said was a quiet "drive".

Stiles didn't know what to do; you didn't want to talk, but he couldn't stand watching you cry; it made his stomach churn and his chest feel tight in a sickening way. He needed you to be okay.

He reached his right hand over to you, taking your hand that was fidgeting with your shirt in his. You loved the way his fingers wrapped around your hand; it always made butterflies erupt in your stomach, even if he was just doing it to comfort you. You let out a choked sob that went straight to Stiles's heart breaking it a little. "I can't help you feel better if you don't talk to me," Stiles whispered, but the Jeep was so quiet that you understood him perfectly. You knew he was right, and you also knew that if anyone could make you feel better, it was Stiles.

Stiles already had a feeling about what was wrong but didn't want to say anything in case he was wrong. He knew you loved your family, but they could be harsh at times. You told him about a year ago how, especially, your grandma would often give you a hard time because of your weight. He found it ridiculous because a) it was none of your grandma's business what your body looked like, and b) he thought you looked amazing—the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. He loved holding you close and loved the way your body felt pressed against him. You've slept over at his place multiple times in the last two years, and holding you close as you slept is still his favorite pastime ever. Of course, he told you multiple times that you look amazing either way, but he understands how hard it is to feel comfortable in your own body, especially when your personal bully used to live with you.

Ever since moving away, your relationship with your family has gotten far better. Before, you used to live in one big house with your grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins constantly around you.

You wanted to tell Stiles what happened and wanted him to hold you and make it seem like everything was alright, but your grandma's voice kept nagging you: "You better start dropping a few Pounds if you ever want that boy to like you back." That was the first thing she dared say to you as you walked into the house earlier. She had been watching you through the kitchen window as Stiles dropped you off after school.

Anyone could tell how in love you were with Stiles by the way you smiled at him. You'd have to be an absolute idiot to miss it, like Stiles, as Lydia likes to point out; he was one of those absolute idiots, as he doesn't seem to notice your feelings for him. Your mother immediately interfered with your grandmother and told her to back off; they never got along, as she treated your mother with just as much kindness as she showed you, none.

You didn't feel hungry sitting with your family during dinner, and even though your mother had served your favorite lasagna, you could only stomach a little salad from the side dishes before you excused yourself and went back to your room. Part of you knew your grandma was right. Stiles would never like you back in the way that you like him; your name doesn't start with Lyd and end with ia, nor are you a fit strawberry blonde; no, you're about the exact opposite of what Stiles has always desired.

Shortly before you texted Stiles to come pick you up, your grandma had entered your room. You had honestly thought that she would be in bed by now, as you hadn't heard any noise from down the stairs in hours as you kept to yourself in your room. "You know, I am just looking out for you." Your grandmother had started her lecture, a lecture that you are all too familiar with; you've heard it about 250 times by now. She's just looking out for you; she just wants to motivate you to lose some weight; she doesn't want you to end up alone with no man. You never understood where your grandma took her audacity from, considering that she wasn't the skinniest woman herself.

"I saw the way you look at that boy; be real with yourself. Do you really think you'd have a chance with him right now?" Knowing your parents and your family, you couldn't exactly lash out at your grandma, so you did the next best thing you could do, which was only moderately disrespectful: you walked right past her out of your room, put your shoes on, and left the house. You stood in the driveway, and the only person that you wanted to see right now was Stiles. You knew he would pick you up at any time of the day, so you shot him a quick text and ducked yourself into the shadows under a tree in your driveway. You didn't want your grandma to see you, but you knew she was watching again.

Stiles couldn't bear your silence anymore, so he spoke again. This time it startled you, as his voice was more firm and he sounded quite angry. "Was it your grandma?" he asked. Your head shot up, and you looked over at him in disbelief, wondering how he knew. When your eyes met his, they softened; his angry stare was gone. Of course, Stiles knew he always did, didn't he? You weakly nodded your head before looking down at your hand again. You suddenly noticed how cold it was in Roscoe, and you shivered. Stile's hand let go of yours as he reached behind your seat to get his hoodie from the back seat. "Here, I had a feeling you would be freezing," he said as he handed you his hoodie. As you pulled his hoodie over your head, you inhaled Stile's scent deeply, hoping he didn't notice. There was something so intoxicating about Stiles that you didn't know if it was just him in general or if your feelings for him were playing a trick on your mind.

"You know everything your grandma has ever said is not true, right?" You have heard this from many people over the years, but only when Stiles said it did you feel put at ease for a little bit. You sat in comfortable silence, knowing Stiles took over the conversation when you were sad, so you could just listen. "Y/N, I mean it; there's nothing about you that could count as a flaw in the slightest, and I don't know how to make you believe that... Sometimes I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so you could realize." Stiles sighed in frustration. You know his frustration wasn't directed at you, but it still made you upset. "Thank you, Stiles," is all you could say.

You leaned your head back against your headrest and closed your eyes. Just now, you noticed that there was music quietly playing in the background. Stiles must have turned it on at some point. It was your playlist, with Until Forever Falls Apart by Ashe playing in the background. You closed your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of driving around.

You were startled when Stiles woke you up. You noticed the Jeep was parked in front of his house. Sometime during the drive, you must have fallen asleep. Stiles still sat across from you in the driver's seat, his hand on your cheek as he slowly stroked across it to wake you up. You felt a yawn make its way across your lips and stretched your legs. Stiles got out and rounded the Jeep, opening your door for you. He held it open as you jumped out. Stiles took your hand as he walked toward the door. You shuffled a little closer, putting your head on his arm. You noticed the sheriff's car was gone. "My dad was called back to the station about an hour ago." Stiles said he had noticed you staring at the empty spot where the sheriff's car usually stood. Once inside, you made your way to Stiles's room; according to his alarm clock, it was almost 2 a.m. Stiles must have been driving a bunch of circles around the city while you were asleep. You made a mental note to quickly steal Roscoe tomorrow and fill his tank for Stiles.

You took your shoes off and crawled into Stiles's bed. You heard him shuffle around behind you like he was searching for something, but you just wanted to lie down. A few seconds late, you felt Stiles get in bed behind you, his chest pressed to yours as his arms sneaked around your waist. At first, you hated when Stiles touched your stomach, but at first, you were also not used to cuddling with a boy in general. To anybody walking in, you two would seem like more than just friends, and the thought of that made your heart race. As you lay in silence, you once again noticed music playing in the background. Stiles must have looked for his speakers; your favorite playlist was quietly playing from the direction of his desk.

Stiles's hand sneaked under your, or well, his, hoodie, and he laid it right under your breast on top of your pajama shirt. Suddenly you noticed how hot it was getting under the hoodie and blanket, but you didn't dare move to take it off out of fear Stiles would move back.

Stiles shifted slightly behind you and buried his head in your neck. While you were absentmindedly intertwining your legs, you swore you could feel something poke you from behind. Your eyes widened. You have felt Stiles boner against you before a few times in the mornings and always just shrugged it off as morning wood. You felt Stiles move a little again when he whispered "I'm sorry" right in the nape of your neck. You didn't know how to react as goosebumps covered your skin and a shiver ran down your spine. You thought Stiles would move away from you, but instead, he pulled you in, making you gasp out when you felt his hard-on fully pressed against you.

Stile's head was still buried in your neck when you felt him slightly lift it and press a kiss right between your neck and shoulder. Another shiver wrecked your body as you turned your head slightly to look Stiles in the eyes; he had fully lifted his head, looking down on you.

Stiles didn't know where his sudden boost in confidence had come from, but ever since he saw your tear-filled eyes in the car, he wanted to confess his feelings to you and make you feel beautiful. Usually, when he got a boner around you, he would run off to the bathroom and take care of it, but right now, he wanted you to feel what you do to him.

He felt like he was about to explode with the way you were looking up at him—your big doe eyes, pupils blown wide, and lips gaping. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you.

You couldn't make out what you saw in Stiles's eyes right now; his dark eyes were almost black. "I really want to kiss you right now." Stiles's raspy voice said in a whisper that had your breath stuck. When you didn't respond, he moved his head a little closer to your ear. "Can I?" he asked again in a whisper. You could only nod your head. That's when Stiles removed his hand from under your hoodie to cup your face. When his lips finally met yours, you were sure time had stopped. You felt a new set of goosebumps rise on your skin as you kissed Stiles back eagerly, and you both smiled into the kiss when Stiles suddenly moved back. He pushed you back to lay flat on your back as he climbed in between your legs before kissing you again.

He couldn't believe that he was actually kissing you, mentally thanking every god out there for today. Stiles ground your crotches together, which ripped a loud moan from you. You turned your head away, embarrassed by what just happened. You felt Stiles heavy breathing. He took your face back in his hand and turned your head so you would look at him again. He looked heavenly; you can't believe what just happened.

"I've been wanting to do that for two years."

With these few words, Stiles had your whole world crumbling as tears slowly started falling from your eyes. You stared up at Stiles as he slowly started to panic, not knowing what he had done wrong. You couldn't stop the tears from falling. For the past two years, you thought that Stiles only saw you as a friend, when he might have wanted you just the way you wanted him. "Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I didn't want to cross any boundaries. I- I m so stupid." Stiles started to sit back and move away from you when you reached for his arm to hold him still. You still had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't stop a smile from stretching across your face. "And I've been waiting for you to do that for the past two years, you idiot." Now, it was Stiles's turn to look absolutely shocked and dumbfounded at the same time. "HuuH?" was the only thing he managed to get past his lips. You laughed at him and leaned forward, reconnecting your lips. You felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your chest. A lump in your throat that you didn't know was there dissipated, and when Stiles started kissing you back, you finally wrapped your arm around his neck. Stiles deepened the kiss, asking for permission with his tongue, which you happily granted.

"Do you want me to stop? We don't have to go further," Stiles asked. "Honestly, this was already way more than I ever expected to happen. You don't -"

Stiles groaned into your mouth when he finally got to kiss you the way he wanted to for so long, and when you pushed your hips up to grind against him, he swore he lost his sanity. His hands traveled down your sides and under your hoodie, where they settled at your waist. "Can I take these off?" he referred to his Hoodie on you and your shirt. You hummed, opening your eyes and looking back at him. "I need verbal confirmation, y/n." He chuckled at you. " Yes, Stiles, please." He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling your shirt and hoodie above your head in one go. What Stiles didn't know was that you wore no Bra underneath. He tried not to stare at your naked chest underneath him, so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable when he looked up at you. You had your head turned away again, slightly covering part of your chest with one hand. He took your hand in his own slowly moving, removing it from your chest.

He leaned back down and started spreading small pecks along your neck and down to your collarbone, which had you whimpering and trusting back up against him.

You felt him smile into your skin. His hand slowly traveled down your body, settling onto your hips and pushing them back down into the mattress. "Patience, baby, we will get there." Stiles moved his head back up and turned your face to look at him. You couldn't keep yourself from blushing at his words. You've never known that Stiles had such a side to him. Your hands tucked slightly at Stiles's shirt, signaling that you wanted it off; he sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt above his head. You've seen Stiles shirtless before, and every time it makes your skin heat up, you're sure you couldn't blush a deeper shade of red as you were staring at his perfect form. When you looked at his face, you noticed he was already looking at you. Watching as you stared at his body, you felt flustered under his dark eyes. Stiles's hands were back on your thighs, rubbing small circles with his thumbs that made your legs twitch.

You giggled as you noticed Stiles was starting to get into a nervous ramble. "Stiles, calm down, you're fine, I don't want to stop." For the first time tonight, it felt like you could talk freely with nothing holding you back. "Okay, good, good, but tell me if I need to stop. I will I prom-"

"Stiles! "

"Will you please shut up and get back here?" You reached your arms out to him, signaling to him that you wanted him back on top of you. Stiles smiled as he leaned back down, capturing your lips in another kiss. Both of you hadn't planned this, and neither one of you knew how to make the next move. You both knew you wanted more, and you knew that Stiles had slightly more experience than you and hoped he would make the next move.

And thankfully he did. Stiles slowly moved his hand that was still on your thigh a little higher, feeling your breath hitch as he cupped your heat through your pants, slowly rubbing his palm against you. You let a small moan escape your lips, which was swallowed by Stiles as he kept kissing you. He undid the tie of your (his) sweatpants and pushed his hand inside he moved his fingers down over your panties to feel how damp they were. "Stiles, please," you whimpered against his lips. Stiles swore he was so hard that he could come from just looking at you right now. He pulled his hand out, and you buckled your hips in protest. A small laugh passed his lips. He decided not to torture you any longer and started to pull your pants down. You lifted your hips for him to make it easier, and when they were finally off, he ran his hands up and down your thighs, feeling your soft skin.

You reached one of your hands between you to cup Stiles's erection through his own sweatpants. Feeling your hands on him for the first time made Stiles let out a loud groan that went straight to your own core.

You pushed Stiles slightly so he would lay on his back as you climbed between his legs. He stared at you as you settled on your stomach between his legs. He wet his lips and groaned when you palmed him harder. He lifted his hips off the bed and watched you pull his sweats and boxers down in one go. You wrapped your hands around him and looked up at him as you leaned forward to lick one long stripe along the underside of his dick up to his tip, where you collected his precum on your tongue. "Fuck, Y/N, don't do that." Stiles threw his head back; there was no way he could look at you if he wanted to last. You wrapped your lips around him and started bobbing your head up and down in a slow rhythm. Stiles groaned above you as his hands grabbed the sheets, and you saw his knuckles turn white.

You took his hand in yours and guided it to the back of your head to signal him that he could take control. Stiles took your hair in his hand and wrapped the other one around your scalp, holding you close. Suddenly, he started thrusting up while simultaneously pulling your head down, his cock going further down your throat with every thrust. You tried your best to breathe through your nose. Stiles moans fueled your desire to make him finish, so you hollowed your checks more and sucked harder. One of his hands left your head, and he draped it lazily over his eyes, thrusting his hips fast and keeping your head down. "I'm I'm close- fu- so close, Y/N." You felt a stutter in his rhythm, and after a few more thrusts, his hips lifted up one last time. He pushed your head down fully, your nose pressed against his pelvis as he came down your throat. You swallowed around him, the overstimulation making him pull out.

"Come here," Stiles pulled you towards him. You had to crawl on his lap because you were too short to reach him from your position. Stiles pulled you into another kiss and groaned when your wet panties rubbed against his half-erect dick.

Stiles's hands roamed over your body and settled on your ass; he pushed your hips down to grind harder against him as you were still mostly hovering over him, unsure whether you should put your whole weight on him.

When Stiles finally felt you let go and sink down on his lap he moved one of his hands from your ass and in between your bodies where he pulled your panties aside, he moved back a little so he could see you fully and ran one of his fingers up and down your slit collecting your wetness, you moaned at the feelings of stiles finger on you, he moved his finger up and slowly started drawing circles on your clit with his finger pad, you fell forward and put your hands against stiles chest as you let your moans slip freely from your mouth you started grinding against stiles hand as he finally inserted his finger into you, you needed more already soaking stiles hand you begged Stiles for more "More, please Stiles" he added another finger, spreading you open, the hand on your ass helping you move faster against his hand. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit. 

Stiles couldn't believe the sight above him, trying to implant your beauty into his brain forever as you threw your head back. "I'm gonna come- Stiles!" Your hips stuttered, but his hand on your ass helped you move through your orgasm. You collapsed on top of him. He slowly stroked your back, but Stiles wasn't done with you yet. He waited for your breathing to calm down before he spoke again. "I want to taste you." You felt another blush creep up on your cheeks. You weren't going to deny Stiles his wish and were going to move off him to lie down when he held you still. "Sit on my face," Stiles said as he pulled your hips upward. Your cheeks fired up as you started stuttering. "Whaat no, I can't, we can't," you tried to move off. "Baby, look at me. I know what you're thinking, and I promise you won't hurt me." Stiles insisted looking up at you. "N-no, what if I crush you?" you said quietly, not looking Stiles in the eyes. Stiles smiled at you, and his hands traveled up your thighs, gripping them tightly. "You won't, and even if you did, it sounds like a great way to go out." You frowned and slapped him across the chest, earning you a laugh from Stiles. "Y/n, I mean it; you won't hurt me if it makes you feel better. How about I tap your thighs like this if I need you to move up?" He asked while tapping two of his fingers against your thigh three times. He looked up at you, giving you the best puppy eyes he could muster. You knew you could never deny him when he looks like this, and with a sigh, you gave in "Ookay- but..."

"No more buts!" Stiles interrupted you. He lifted you up slightly as if you weighed nothing and helped you out of your panties before moving your body towards the headboard until you were hovering over his face. He caressed your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart. Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful. Stiles's hands moved up to your hips, which he grabbed tightly before pressing you down onto him, finally having your cunt on his face. He liked a long stripe up from your hole to your clit, moaning at the taste, which sent vibration right through your clit and a shock up your spine.

Stiles ate you out like a man starving, pulling you even closer and fully burying his head into your cunt. He rocked your body against his face, his nose brushing against your clit as he pushed his tongue into you. You grabbed his hair with one hand and the headboard with the other, rocking your body back and forth against Stiles's face, letting moans of his name echo through his room, which only fueled Stiles on more. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, you ground down right into him. "Shit Stiles, s-sorry," you tried to lift yourself back up, but Stiles held you close, pressed up against his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, the eye contact sending shivers down your spine.

Stiles moaned against your clit making you throw your head back. One of his hands sneaked up your body and ghosted over your breast. Stiles has always wanted to touch them. When you put your hands over his to grab them harder, Stiles finally lost his last reserve and started rolling your nipple between his fingers. "Stiles, Stiles..." His name fell off your lips like a mantra as you came a second time that night, your legs clamping together around Stiles's head, trying to keep him there. He tried his best to lap up all your juices, and when the stimulation became too much, you lifted yourself up, much to Stiles's displeasure, as he would much rather have kept you there. You moved to the side, lying down next to Stiles.

You looked at him, his face glistening in your juice. "That was the best thing ever!" Stiles exclaimed with a smile on his face. You chuckled at his bright smile. He looked like a kid on Christmas. He leaned over to you, connecting your lips. You could taste yourself on his lips. You felt Stiles hard on press against your thigh. You moved your hand down his stomach and wrapped it around your shaft. You moved, so Stiles was in between your legs. "I want you inside me," you mumbled against Stiles's lips.

Stile's mind went haywire. He didn't expect to ever get so far with you, so he didn't have any condoms. You saw the worried look on his face as you watched his eyes scan the room. "I'm on birth control, Stiles," you reassured him as you ground your wet cunt against his hard cock. "Are you sure this is okay?" Stiles asked as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Yes, Stiles, I've never been more sure."

Stiles slowly pushed in, making sure not to hurt you. He knew you hadn't slept with anyone since losing your virginity over two years ago, so it stung a little when Stiles was fully inside you. He stayed still for a moment, just taking in your beautiful face and the feeling. "You're beautiful," Stiles said, smiling down at you. Stiles has called you beautiful before, but it had never made you feel the way it did now that you knew he felt the same way about you.

You moved your hips a little, signaling Stiles to move. "Stiles, move, ple-ase!" Stiles pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in. He immediately found the right spots that had you moaning under him, "fuck- fast- stiles faster!" You moaned in his ear. Stiles picked up the pace and felt your nails dig into his back. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder so he could reach even deeper. The new position made him hit your g-spot with every thrust and had you tightening incredibly around him. "Fuck Y/N, you're too tight." Stiles swore you were sent to earth just for him, as he filled you perfectly. He propped himself down on his elbow, pressing himself even closer to you. He reached one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit. 

You were still incredibly sensitive from earlier and came almost instantly while he continued rubbing your clit in slow circles to help you back down from your high. Your thighs were shivering. Stiles pulled out of you and turned you around; he gently pushed you on your stomach. You slightly lifted your ass up towards him as well as your shaking legs could support you. Stiles trusted back inside you, but with the first thrust of his hips, your legs already gave out. You were gripping the sheets between your fingers as Stiles held you against him, chasing his own orgasm. "Fuck y/n, I'm going cum," he said, his rhythm breaking. "In-inside... please stileees" you whined out for him. The thought of coming inside sent Stiles over the edge. He pressed his chest against your back as he slowly emptied himself inside you.

When he pulled out, you flopped back on the bed and said, "Don't move; wait here!" Stiles got off the bed and ran into the bathroom, you guessed. When he came back, he had a roll of toilet paper and a warm washcloth. He cleaned up between your legs the best he could before crawling back in bed with you. He pulled you flush against his chest, loving the way you curled into his side. You laid your head on your chest, listening to Stiles's heartbeat as he played with your hair. You heard Stiles say something but didn't register it, exhaustion finally catching up on you as you fell asleep.

At 6:30 a.m., just a few hours later, you were rudely awakened by Stiles's alarm. You debated for a second about just skipping class when Stiles and you heard his dad in the hallway. You both immediately sprang into action, getting your clothes back on, just as you had finished putting on your clothes and pulling your shirt down, the sheriff entered the room. He looked surprised, expecting to only find Stiles.

It's not like you have never slept over at Stiles place, but usually the sheriff knew. Judging by the way the sheriff looked at Stiles, he already knew what had happened between you two. "Just make sure you both make it to school in time, okay?" Was all he said, looking at Stiles, who nodded his head, hand scratching his neck. "We have to be quick; I need my stuff from home," you reminded Stiles after the sheriff left.

Stiles dropped you off at him with barely 10 minutes to spare, which definitely wasn't because you two took an extra long shower this morning. Your mother tried to approach you and question you about what happened and why you weren't at home, but you just brushed her off promising to fill her in later. You changed your clothes, grabbed your bag, and were back in Stiles's jeep in record time. You knew your grandma was watching again from the kitchen window, so you reached over and pulled Stiles into a kiss.

Stiles caressed your cheek and deepened the kiss. You didn't pull back until you couldn't breathe. Just as you were about to lean in again, you saw your dad leave the house out of the corner of your eye. "Drive!" You turned to Stiles, who didn't need to be told twice as you both made your way to school. You couldn't help but laugh at the face your dad made while standing alone in the driveway.

At school, you and Stiles walked in holding hands, looking for your friend group. The first one you spotted was Lydia, who gave you a knowing smirk. "It looks like you're no longer on the list of oblivious idiots, Stiles," she said, making Stiles look confused.

[jo-harrington]

You don't have time for Christmas.

Work and home and this friend in a crisis.

Work and home and, let's be honest, probably work again.

And before you know it, it's December 20th and you don't even have any decorations up. Barely anyone does. The neighborhoods that are usually lit up with lights and figurines enough to rival the Griswolds are noticably dark this year.

What holiday? What festivity? It's wake up and hustle and lay in bed in a dreamless sleep. Then wake up to do it all again.

You are a cog in a machine.

You don't know how to voice these things, your displeasure, the secret yearning for the pomp and circumstance and childhood whimsy for the holiday season that's tucked somewhere deep inside your weary body. You can't bring yourself to indulge in it.

You're tired.

You glance down the card aisle at the grocery store but don't stop to grab any for friends. You pick up a bag of peanut butter bells for your candy jar at work but then second guess it at the checkout. Gifts are bought with as much care as you could, but you can't even bother to wrap them as prettily as you usually would.

You can try again for Valentine's. Chocolate hearts with the crispy rice inside and roses for your coworkers. Something.

But this year, you don't have time for Christmas.

And he notices.

It starts with cookies.

He likes to bake--started with boxed cake mix and then you bought him a handheld torch one year so he could try his hand at creme brûlée after he watched a little too much Jacques Pepin on PBS--so it's not anything suspicious. No ulterior motives detected.

Only he's dug up the little handwritten notebook full of your grandma's favorite recipes. Grandpa's handwriting because he wrote it while she dictated. Cookies he's never tasted before himself but seemed to have nailed exactly the way she made them. The love he poured into the treats matched hers exactly.

He brings you a plate and a cup of cocoa when you come home and collapse on the couch.

You cry when you eat them. And he lets you.

Then he digs out the tree from the garage.

The one-car garage that you pay extra for doesn't fit either of your vehicles but fits all your crap. You both vow to clean up at some point and never do. He slogs through the boxes of old band tees that don't fit him and kitchen crap that you don't miss or really need, to get to the plastic 6 ft tree that used to have stickers to note which bough went in what slot but those are long gone.

He spends hours figuring it out and decorating it, and imagine your surprise when you come home to an otherwise-dark apartment illuminated by the fat, colorful incandescent bulbs that you're sure he spent a significant amount of time untangling. You'd both given up last year and went without lights. But there they are.

"What?" you drop your bag by the door. "What is this?"

"I dunno," he grins proudly. "Thought it would be nice. Get in the Christmas spirit. Saved the star for you to put on top if you want."

And you did. You wanted it so bad. Ever since you were a kid, you were the one to put the star on top of the tree.

After it's up, you marvel at the special care he's taken with the important ornaments. Fragile little wooden ones from your grandma, popsicle stick frames with baby pictures of both of you, a macaroni snowman that he gave his mom once-upon-a-time that his uncle had stashed away, and then a fancy hallmark one you got the year you moved in together.

They all have special places on the tree and tell a story of your lives, separate and then together.

You both lay under the tree that night, staring up at the glittering lights as you hold hands.

Finally it's Christmas Eve. Which to him really meant nothing, but to you meant the world. Christmas Days were spent with individual families but Christmas Eves of old meant a big dinner and time spent with your cousins and It's a Wonderful Life on the TV.

It's a tradition that got put to the wayside as everyone got too old and too tired. As you started getting scheduled to work, like this year. And it's almost worse this year, as you've done a stretch of you-can't-remember-how-many days, that you even turned down an invitation for the two of you from your mom for a small dinner with her.

You're exhausted by the time you get home and, more than anything, you're looking forward to the day off tomorrow.

Not the holiday. The day off.

Still, you remember to bring in the handful of gifts from their hiding place in your trunk. You don't really do gifts between the two of you anymore. Nothing big at least. Just a cheesy little thing. Something fun, not something serious. But you did a little more this year than you usually would--all of the OT you'd clocked for one, and too many things you saw that you knew would make him smile for another.

You try to tip toe into the house as quietly as possible so you can throw the boxes under the tree and shower but he's vigilant. He's been at the stove cooking for a while, and he greets you at the door as you shut it behind you.

"I thought we said no big gifts," he admonishes you and snatches the boxes from your hands. The wrapping paper isn't festive--just brown craft paper you stole borrowed from work since you wrapped on your lunch--but you managed to slap on some red and green bows from the drugstore that you grabbed the other day.

"They're not big," you explained. "I promise."

"Well neither are mine," he winked.

You slap a hand against his chest and then give him a kiss in greeting and thanks.

"One better be the RC racer I wanted when I was nine," he mutters against your lips.

"Hmmm, you're just gonna have to wait," you tell him. "And no shaking the boxes.

You're almost a little ticked off'; one of them is the RC racer.

You kick off your shoes as the smell finally hits you.

Dinner.

Thick and savory and fragrant.

Some kind of fish and roasted potatoes and the starchiness of a pasta and the tang of its sauce.

Recipes, again, taken from your grandma's little notebook. They stir something deep inside of you. That yearning you never voiced.

The weariness that's been slowly building within you finally comes to a head when you make it to the kitchen and see the pots and pans and two plates already portioned out.

An ice cold beer for him, and a Shirley temple, extra cherries, for you.

"Remember when you told me," he comes up behind you and his arms snake around your midsection, "that you and your cousins would sneak extra maraschino cherries from the fridge when your gram wasn't looking. And then she went to go get them for the pistachio salad and they were gone."

Your knees shake and you practically collapse against him.

"Speaking of which, there is a pistachio salad in the fridge for dessert."

"Why?" you sniff.

"Because that's actually my favorite, so sorry to your grandma's tiramisu." He pecks a kiss to the side of your head and rocks you back and forth. "But if you want to make that for New Year's Eve, I won't say no."

"No," you let out a watery laugh. "Why are you so good to me, why did you do all of this?"

"Because I know it's been a hard few weeks. Few months." You can feel him shrug. "Fuck, it's been hard for me too but...I know this is one of your favorite parts of the year and you just...haven't been in the spirit for it. So whatever I could do to make it happen for you..."

You turn in his arms and bury your face in his shoulder, in his neck, so he doesn't see your tears. Again. Worse this time as you begin to shake from your sobs. He shushes you, runs a hand over your back, and leaves kiss after kiss against your head.

"Baby, I'll do anything for you," he tells you, voice thick with emotion. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," you whine against his skin. "I'm so...so happy."

"Good."

"Thank you," you repeat it over and over again until it feels like you're empty of all the void and indifference that have filled you for the past few months are gone. In their place just...love and gratitude for him.

"Merry Christmas baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Merry Christmas."

[theamberfist]

Stinkin' Doctors | Grandma Susan + Reader

Familial! Grandma Susan + Grandchild Reader

Description: Rosie has implemented a new rule in Cannibal Town where everyone must attend yearly checkups at the doctors' to stay healthy. And lucky you: as Susan's grandchild, you get to be the one to drag her to hers.

(Notes: CW cannibalism, death, bad parents, creepy doctors) (gender neutral reader) (Reader is Susan's grandchild from when she was alive)

Words: 3,721

"You're kidding." You breathed as you leaned over the desk of the beautiful cannibal overlord, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends. "Every year?" Rosie simply nodded as she signed off on a few of the papers in front of her. The emporium hadn't even opened yet, but after receiving her call that morning, you'd rushed over in what was definitely not a panic to speak with her. 

"I need everyone in Cannibal Town to stay healthy, darling," she explained for the second time, "These appointments are just extra precaution; everyone will have them." You swallowed. That may have been true, but everyone wasn't your grandmother. 

"I get that," you sighed, running a hand through your hair, "But how am I supposed to get Grams to agree to that? We couldn't even convince her to see a doctor when she was on her death bed in life!" Rosie knew better than anyone just how stubborn your grandma could be, but she also knew that if there was one person who could get past her prickly nature to convince her, it was you.

"I know you can do it." She said with a reassuring smile now, "Even the meanest old lady's gotta listen to her grandchild sometimes; especially if they're as darling as you!" She reached up to pinch your cheek, which promptly grew slightly red from embarrassment. Your parents hadn't ended up in hell, which you had thought made your grandmother the only family you really had down here, but it was at times like this when you  realized that might not be so true. 

"Fine." You sighed, pushing away from the desk, "But don't have too much faith in me! Grams hates doctors." Rosie giggled as you headed for the door, already trying to come up with a way to break the news to your grandma. 

"Thank you!" She called genuinely as you left the emporium. She'd make it up to you later; maybe with a nicely cooked meal for your troubles. After all, if worst came to worst, Susan would listen to her if no one else, but she had confidence that as Cannibal Town's designated Susan-Wrangler, you could get her to her appointment on your own- and that it would be quite an entertaining process. 

..........

"Where are we goin'?" Susan asked for what was probably the seventh time in the last ten minutes as you lead her by the arm down the street. "First ya show up to my place uninvited, and then ya drag me out before the sun's even up without telling me why!" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

"It's afternoon, Grandma," You calmly told her. Rosie had carefully made her appointment time a later one since she knew the old woman would pitch a fit at having been woken up early. "And we don't exactly have a proper sun here, anyway." 

"There ya go now, back talkin' me!" Susan spat, though she didn't let go of your arm, "Kids these days with their poor attitudes!" 

You sighed, putting on a bright smile as the two of you passed some familiar faces on the street. They waved and you returned the gesture in an attempt to keep some sort of positive relationship with the other cannibals; despite the old woman on your arm. 

"Sorry, Grandma." You replied finally, "But to answer your question; we're going to see the doctor, like I told you earlier." Of course, Susan hadn't exactly been listening when you'd mentioned that; picking the opportune moment of her meticulously choosing her parasol for the day to offhandedly explain it. 

She stopped in her tracks now; a flicker of fear hitting her eyes before she let go of you and crossed her arms over her chest with a defiant expression. 

"Like hell we are!" She snarled, "I don't needa see no filthy doctor!" You sighed; this had been the difficult part you'd anticipated. Well, one of them, anyway. 

"Grandma, it's okay," You tried to assure her, reaching for her elbow even as she began to shuffle away, "It's just a checkup; Rosie scheduled it for us." 

"I don't need anyone checking up anything of mine!" Susan shouted and you winced at how bad that sentence sounded, "Especially no stinkin' doctor!" Ignoring the fact that she'd literally been married to a 'stinkin' doctor' once while alive, you tried to remain patient. 

"It's just to make sure you're healthy and that nothing's wrong that we don't know about," you explained carefully, "Rosie's having everyone do it once a year now to keep us safer." Seeing that she still wouldn't budge, you took a step forward before adding, "And I'll be there the whole time, okay?"

Susan neither agreed nor disagreed but allowed you to gently take her arm once again and continue leading her down the street. Of course, that didn't come without its share of complaints either. 

"A checkup," she repeated more to herself than anything, "A damn checkup! What a stupid idea; everyone knows ya only go to the doctor if you're fucking sick!" You weren't sure whether she meant 'sick' as in a physical or mental illness, but when it came to your grandmother, it was best not to guess. She turned her gaze to you now as the two of you kept walking. "And I ain't sick!" 

"I know, Grandma," You replied, "That'll make the appointment even shorter, then!" Your words seemed to do little to comfort her though, because she continued muttering about how stupid this all was and how 'that filthy doctor would be lucky if she didn't bite his arm off when he got close' all the way to the clinic. 

Finally, you arrived and managed to drag Susan through the door despite her shouts of protest. You knew her anger wasn't directed towards you, though, but rather the situation itself. 

It was hard to tell, and if you weren't paying close attention you really could miss it, but she was nicer to you than anybody else in hell. Sure, she still made demeaning remarks and yelled at you often, but when it came down to it, you were her grandchild; the only thing her own kid had ever given her besides a headache, she'd once said. 

Now inside, you brought your grandma up to the counter even as she resisted your gentle pull of her arm. 

"Hi," you smiled brightly at the receptionist, whose eyes widened at the sight of the old woman beside you. Susan was extremely well-known throughout Cannibal Town, and sometime before you'd ended up in hell, had managed to gain the respect of nearly all its residents. You couldn't exactly blame them, though; underneath it all, you greatly respected her too.

It was her who'd stepped up to raise you in life when your parents had turned out to be bums, after all; taking responsibility for what her own child wouldn't. 

"Hello," the receptionist, whose black eyes matched everyone else in the cannibal colony, managed to regain her composure now, "Do you have an appointment?" 

"No, we came here to snack on some organ donations." Susan said sarcastically; a joke that would have landed better, if not for the surgical center being located in the same building. 

"Yes." You replied quickly, trying to sidestep your grandmother's rudeness. You'd long since given up on trying to get her to be any more polite than that; especially in a situation like this where she already didn't want to be here. 

The receptionist nodded before grabbing a clipboard with a small packet of paper attached. "Please fill this out and have a seat." You took the clipboard form her with a nod and then dragged Susan over to a set of chairs as far from the rest of the waiting room as you could possibly get. 

Once you were seated, you held the clipboard out to the old woman. "Now they're givin' homework; just great." She grumbled but took it anyway. 

"They just want to know your health history so they can properly treat you." You explained.

"And how is that any of their business?" Susan replied as she looked down at the paper. She squinted as you waited patiently for her fill it out. A second later, she dropped the clipboard on her lap with an irritated grumble. "They made the damn words too small!" She exclaimed as she crossed her arms, "I can't even see 'em." 

You sighed, taking the clipboard from her and looking it over. "They want you to sign your name here," you pointed to an empty line as you handed the pen back to her expectantly. She grumbled some more but did as you said, nonetheless. "And then here's a list of ailments. They want you to check the ones that affect you." 

"None; I ain't sick!" Susan exclaimed. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes once again and left the boxes blank. "The next questions are about your after-lifestyle," you explained, "They want to know how often you smoke, whether or not you drink; stuff like that." 

"Never." Your grandma said with a huff but you narrowed your eyes at her. Having seen both her smoking and drinking habits since ending up in hell, you knew that was a blatant lie. "Fine." She practically spat, "Twice a week." You nodded but checked the box labeled 'most days' instead. It was a more accurate representation of how she lived, anyway. 

You struggled through the health history questions next. Since your grandmother had rarely ever been to the doctors' even in life, she'd never exactly been diagnosed with anything, and claimed that therefore meant she'd been perfectly healthy, despite having died to one of her unknown ailments because she refused to get it checked in the first place. 

Finally, the paperwork was finished and you brought it over to the receptionist, who told you they'd call you back when they were ready. As you made your way back to the waiting area, you could hear Susan still grumbling rather loudly. 

"We better not be payin' for this shit." She threatened as you shook your head.

"We aren't, Grandma. It's part of Rosie's new program." You were well aware of the fact that the old woman didn't exactly stay up to date on current events but she nodded as if she knew what that meant anyway.

After a few minutes, you managed to tune out her muttering as you brought out a book to read while you waited. You knew better than to use a phone within the sight of your grandma, and this way, she wouldn't be able to complain about 'youth's these days' and how things had been better back when she was young. 

You were met with a few, brief moments of peace before she suddenly nudged you in the shoulder, causing you to look up from your book. "What is it?" You asked, noticing her expression was even more venomous than usual. She pointed at the receptionist's desk.

"Look at them," she said under her breath, "the nerve of some people." You held back a comment about her own nerve as you looked to the direction in which she was pointing, where a man sinner you assumed to be the doctor based on his white coat was chatting with the receptionist. He was leaning over her desk, both elbows resting on the wood as he propped his face up with his hands. 

"What?" You asked, turning back to your grandmother, "They're just talking." Though, the scene progressed a moment later as the doctor leaned in and planted a kiss on the receptionist's lips; gazing at her with lovesickness in his black eyes. 

Susan practically growled beside you and it was only then that you remembered the story of what had happened between her and your grandpa; the doctor. You'd never met the man in life but it seemed that past betrayal was setting her off now. 

"Stinkin' doctors..." She mumbled, grabbing a magazine from the table nearby in order to seem less interested in the situation than she was.

"Maybe they're a couple." You suggested, noticing the doctor wore a wedding ring on his left hand, "It's normal for them to kiss." Susan's eyes were practically shot daggers as she looked towards the name tag on the woman's desk, which had a different last name than the one on the doctor's name tag. 

"Maybe they kept their separate last names." You said with a shrug before going back to your book, "Either way, it's really none of our business." Your grandmother just glared down at her magazine.

"The nerve of some people..."

It wasn't until ten minutes later that Susan's name was finally called by the receptionist now that they were ready for her. The doctor was still waiting by the desk but gave you a warm smile as you stood from your chair and took your grandmother's arm once again. She seemed even less enthusiastic about this appointment than before, if that was even possible, but only presented minimal struggling as you dragged her to the hallway door. 

Behind you, someone else entered the clinic but you couldn't be bothered to care who it was; your first priority being to get your grandma to her checkup. You glanced back at the doctor, who waved you off.

"Room 3," he said, "I'll be with you in just a moment." And with that, he turned back to the desk, where another woman sinner was now standing with what looked like a cutely decorated lunchbox in hand. 

Finally, you dragged Susan through the doors, ignoring her keen interest in the group as you made your way to the room. It took nearly all your strength to get her inside, but eventually, the two of you sat on the patient's bed together with the examination room's door closed as you awaited the doctor. 

"If that fuckin' prick comes at me with a needle I'm biting his ear off." Your Grandma spat beside you.

"You're not supposed to get a shot today, so it should be fine, Grams." You told her with a sigh. You were beginning to run low on patience for the old woman by now, so it was a good thing the appointment would start soon. 

"You know the asshole's cheating on his wife?" Susan said suddenly, a scary glow in her eyes that made you shiver. 

"How do you know that?" You asked, knowing she was referring to the doctor. 

"You saw him getting hot and heavy with that receptionist!" Susan replied as if it were obvious, "But his actual wife just came in and brought him lunch. She had a ring and everything." She shook her head, "The nerve..." 

You weren't sure what to say about that, knowing your grandmother's personal stake in the matter. You supposed that was why the following words left your mouth.

"What was in the lunch?" 

Susan gave you a luck that warned against testing her like this but she answered your question anyway. "Skewered eyeballs." She replied, "And freshly baked fingers. She musta worked on those all mornin' just for that fucker to turn around and get with someone else." You sighed.

"That's too bad." What else were you supposed to say? You had enough on your plate already just from trying not to let your grandma run right out of the clinic. 

The rest of your time waiting for the doctor was spent in silence until he finally knocked on the door and both you and Susan stiffened as he entered. 

"Sorry about the wait!" The cannibal doctor exclaimed as he pulled up a rolling stool, "Now, Susan, I understand this is your first checkup with us?" 

"That's Miss Susan to you." The old woman replied and the doctor's smile faltered just a bit.

"Right..." he replied, glancing at you. You offered nothing more than a shrug so he turned back to his clipboard, "It looks like for your medical history you just wrote 'fuck you, you filthy doctor.' Can you tell me more about that?" Susan opened her mouth to speak, glad to have the chance to rip into the other sinner, but you quickly interjected.

"She didn't really go to the doctor much when we were alive," You explained, "So we weren't sure of any formal diagnoses." 

"Okay." The man replied as he noted that down, "And may I ask who you are?" There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he did so but you ignored it.

"Her grandkid," you told him simply. Although you'd opted to ignore the man's clear interest in you, it seemed Susan had chosen a different route. 

"So stop eyein' em up, buster!" She exclaimed. The doctor ignored her though; not focused on you. 

"It was very kind of you to take her to her appointment like this," he commented, making you feel slightly less comfortable in the room. 

"It's not a big deal..." You replied awkwardly before clearing your throat, "Now could we maybe hurry this along? Grams isn't fond of appointments like this." 

"Of course," The doctor replied, flashing his sharp white teeth at you, "I promise your grandmother will receive the best care we can give her." That seemed to finally be enough for Susan because she suddenly shouted.

"Oh yeah? How do we know you aren't gonna break that promise like ya did to your wife!" 

Silence filled the room then as the man's gaze turned to her; his eyes wide at having been caught in the act. "Now quit chatting up my grandkid and get on with it!" Susan continued, gesturing for him to hurry up, "Or am I gonna have to rip off one of your arms too?" 

The doctors swallowed harshly before nodding and getting on with his duties. The rest of the appointment was filled with awkward silence, aside from Susan's occasional rude comments. Once everything was done, the doctor informed you that your grandmother was completely healthy and then handed you a note to give Rosie as confirmation that the appointment had been successful. 

With that, he saw you into the waiting room where the receptionist scheduled the next year's appointment and you were finally done. Susan had become significantly less frustrated with being in a doctor's office after dropping that bombshell earlier but at this point you were too tired and hungry to care.  

You lead her by the arm back to the street now, only to nearly bump into a sinner you hadn't seen before the second you reached the sidewalk. Slightly disoriented, you were already bracing yourself for the string of curses that would inevitably leave your Grandmother's lips from the nerve of whoever it was that hadn't been watching where they were going.

However, to your surprise, she didn't say anything at all. Instead, she looked up at the sinner, whom you just now realized happened to be the woman you'd seen in the clinic earlier. 

A satisfied expression made its way onto Susan's face and you knew what she was going to say before she even spoke. 

"Your husband's cheating on you." The old woman said matter-of-factly, "A filthy doctor and an ugly receptionist; what a pair!" The woman's eyes widened but Susan just pulled you along before she could reply and soon enough you were far enough away that you could no longer hear her screams of anger and confusion. 

It was at this point that you gave up trying to control your grandmother. The cat was already out of the bag, and if you were being honest, the woman being cheated on had had a right to know the truth. Susan seemed very pleased with herself now; maybe because she gained some sense of fulfillment from her actions that she hadn't received in life when she found herself in a similar position. 

"Grandma," you finally said once the two of you were only a few blocks from her home, "I'm...Sorry about what Grandpa did to you." 

She froze. It was a topic the two of you had never discussed before; you'd always been too afraid of her anger to bring it up, but after being confronted with a similar situation today, it felt like the right time. 

Finally, the old woman seemed to regain her composure because she kept walking. "Don't call him that," she said, though there was no anger in her tone, only...sadness? "Ya never even met the asshole." You shrugged.

"But he still hurt you." You said, "That's what-"

"-Your parents told you, yeah yeah." Susan replied, waving your concern off, "Sure he did, but he was a hell of a lot smarter than that doctor." She pointed in the direction of the clinic, "That's why when I caught him cheating on me I ate them both."

...And the touching moment had been destroyed. You chuckled, though, knowing the only reason your grandmother had been so opposed to visiting the doctor was because it reminded her of her ex-husband. Though, it seemed she'd been able to work through some of those feelings today by ensuring another couple discovered the ruins of their own marriage. 

"Does this mean next year you'll be okay going to your appointment again?" You asked hopefully now that the two of you had reached the gates outside of your grandmother's house.

"Don't push it." She replied, letting go of your arm and heading for the house without so much as a goodbye. You shook your head, knowing she still cared for you regardless of how often she showed it. That much had been clear when she went off on the doctor for your sake but also refrained from murdering him for your sake. 

You were about to turn and head to your own home for the night when a familiar voice called out to you. You looked back to see Susan standing on her porch holding the her front door open. 

"Ya look like ya haven't eaten in a month!" She said with a scowl, "How's about you come inside for a proper meal?" A smile made its way onto your lips at that and you nodded, turning around to head for the house. Susan kept the door open, allowing you to enter as she hid her delight behind her usual resting-bitch-face. 

Though, as you spoke again, her lips couldn't help but curve upwards just slightly. 

"Thanks, Grandma."

[outsidersstuff16]

Head Canons I have abt them (anon request!)

Order: Ponyboy, Johnny, Dallas, Soda, Darry, Steve, and Two-Bit

there will be ten each

Ponyboy-

Ponyboy seems like the type of person who will read the book before he watches the movie on the book to compare them and show the gang what's different about what.

2. Ponyboy seems like he would struggle to find writing creativity and when it comes to him, he goes into this writing zone and doesn't want to be bothered by anyone for the next 2-3 hours.

3. Ponyboy gives off this feeling that he's nice to everyone as long as they haven't badmouthed the gang or did any of the gang wrong. Like he would stop and help old people across the street because no one else would, You now?

4. I don't think that Ponyboy is a dog or cat guy rather a ferret guy who likes to dress up his fur noodle in things he's crocheted in his free time.

5. I can defiantly see Ponyboy being into what my family calls "grandma hobbies"; things such as Knitting, Crochet, Pottery, and Quilting.

6. Ponyboy is probably hella clumsy, like I could see him messing around on a table at bucks and falling off trying to jump to another table.

7. I feel like if the book was placed in the mid 70's he'd definitely listen to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen or in his current time period he definitely listens to The Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash, he just seems like that type of guy.

8. He definitely treats Johnny to Fast Food when he has the extra money. It's not in a relationship kind of way just a hang out type of thing.

9. I can definitely see Ponyboy having a good 9 or 10 first place medals for track. He's probably what's carrying his schools track team too.

10. Ponyboy definitely helps people who can't get their lockers open at school and it's more than likely his pride and joy. I dare you to convince me otherwise.

Johnny-

1.He is a respectful king and no matter what everyone else says, he is not and innocent bean. Let's be so fr. He literally killed a man for his best friend and hangs out with Dallas Winston and y'all are gonna tell me he's innocent? Yeah right.

2.He has definitely picked up some really dirty jokes from hanging out with Dallas but will only use them in the appropriate setting. If there is something serious going on than he won't let out a joke. A party on the other hand, oh shit he's gonna be saying a dirty joke every 5 minutes.

3.He loves the rain and thinks it's a gift from God. He loves to dance in it alone or when he's feeling depressed or sad he'll just sit in the rain and let it comfort him. He thinks it's prettiest out when it rains. (and I Agree)

4.He loves helping mutts he finds on the streets. He has a best friend German shepherd he named Houston, and he follows him around a lot. I can also see them sleeping and cuddling in the lot together to protect each other.

5.Johnny has definitely influenced Pony to get his Ferret so Houston can play with it for funzees. He has also shown up to like 80% of Ponyboy's track meets.

6.Johnny goes home on Monday afternoons because he knows his parents are at work and he will go into his room and find entertainment for a few hours, shower, change his clothes, and then leave.

7.before his parents started fighting, they would do family outings on Wednesdays and go to restraunts, amusement parks, and fairs together and Johnny still keeps polaroids of those outings.

8.Johnny really doesn't drink but I can see him drinking on those big occasions when school gets out for the summers, or if its someone's birthday, but I think that'd be about it.

9.You can fight me on this in the comments, but I don't care. Johnny definitely has a summer job every summer. He'll work at the movie theater, the drive in, the dingo, or try for cashier at the DX. He always finds a job for the summer.

10.When Johnny's mom and dad started fighting Johnny was his mom's therapist and his dad's shit talking listener. So, like after a fight, Johnny would consol his mom and get her to bed and then listen to his dad talk shit about his mom until he was black out drunk.

Dallas-

1.Dallas has been around his parents fighting a lot and he definitely has mommy issues because of it. His mom has definitely left him for weeks or months at a time to starve growing up which destroyed his relationship with her growing up.

2.Dallas and Tim Shepherd definitely get drunk and sing stupid karaoke together and Ponyboy keeps polaroids of it to give to Dallas later when he's sober and Dallas keeps them in his wallet.

3.Dallas is definitely scared of spiders because he was bit by one when he was like 11 and has never let it go and so the gang will mess with him on occasion and scare the shit out of him with a rubber or plastic spider or some shit.

4.Dallas got his St. Christopher necklace from a preacher in New York after telling him all that is mother had done to him and him and that preacher still keep in contact. I can just see it man.

5.Dallas definitely smokes the 7-leaf clover, let's just face it, he's probably been to jail for it too. I could see him taking a weekend trip every other month to another state just to get the shit too.

6.He's broke a chair over Two-Bit's back to see if the chair was indestructible. It was not and the gang never let Dallas or Two-Bit forget it. Two-Bit and him do the dumbest shit together all of the time.

7.Dallas has beef with this one cat out in the streets of Tulsa because he was trying to be nice and pet it and it scratched his face all to hell and has been look for it for revenge ever since.

8.Dallas was trying to give Johnny a piggyback ride wearing socks on a hard wood floor and he slipped and fell into a metal chair and broke his pinky and ring finger and kicked the damn chair after he got up.

9.Dallas loves bon fires because it makes him feel like a fire master and he likes to stick sticks into the fire to catch them on fire as if they were torches and will pass it around to tell a spooky story.

10.If this man were to have a pet, he'd have a bearded dragon because he'd find them cool as fuck and he'd scare Ponyboy with it when he mouths off.

Sodapop-

1.Soda gets extra tips at the DX from middle aged women or high school girls and he's never complaining about it because bitch he's broke! He does however split the tips with steve.

2.When Soda's mom and dad passed, Soda got most of her pictures and also got a silk duvet and pillow and he won't use it because he's scared to ruin it.

3.When Soda is mad, he'll go work on cars at the DX and won't come back home for a couple hours till he's calmed down and talks to Darry about his situation. Soda is really car smart too.

4.Soda at some point fixed and rebuilt and engine and everyone went out to celebrate it because it was Soda's equivalent to graduating and it was the happiest day of his life and have about 20 different polaroids of the engine and celebration in his work shirt.

5.He picks on Steve ALL of the time at work and Steve almost always gets him back with a really fucked up prank for example, wrapping the staff urinal with Surran wrap and 9 times out of 10 you'll hear Soda yell "Steve, You FUCKHEAD!"

6.Soda and Steve at some point were dealing with a rude customer and Dallas Walked in and they all just started making fun of this person with no chill and everyone was laughing about it for the next 3 days after it happened.

7.Soda love to watch the nearby rivers flow. It's like free therapy to him and it became his obsession when he was 12. His mother showed him that spot. Soda goes there to think when he's really upset. When his dad and mom died, he went there and camped for 2 days.

8.him and Steve will make extremely offensive jokes about each other but will refuse every single time to crack a joke about the Death of Soda's Mom and Dad and I mean refuse.

9.Soda will steal Soda he's never tried during his shift and give a review to Steve so Steve will know what he should try when he goes in. Sometimes on their day off on the way to a rodeo, Steve will stop for drinks and buy one that Soda rated poorly, and Soda almost threw hands with Steve because of it.

10.Soda likes to give each rodeo trip a nickname like if someone got flung into a wall by a bull, he'll call it the the bull-wall rodeo for the rest of his life and everyone will know what he's talking about.

Darry-

1.Darry is a prankster at work. He just is. I can see him putting charcoal paste on his boss's radio announcer and he put it right up to his lips and was practically making out with the thing and everyone was laughing at Darry's boss the whole day.

2.Darry wanted to go to college to do Physical Therapy on people but when his parents died, he had to use his college funds to pay for the caskets and funeral service and he cries about it often.

3.Darry and Dallas have man to man talks about stuff that upset them over the week and nobody knows about these talks because it's like their therapy that they can have for free, and they can both trust each other to keep it unknown.

4.At some point Darry went to work incredibly sick and passed out while finishing a roofing job and he was taken to the hospital and when Soda came to see him Darry broke down because of stress.

5.Darry tries to participate in church with his brothers every other Sunday and it always makes him feel like his week will be better. He finds it as a good reset.

6.Darry likes to make faces at babies at the store and when the baby starts giggling excessively Darry runs for it. He did this one time when he was in the store with Soda and Soda told everyone.

7.Darry likes to put Steve in a headlock as his hi to Steve and when Darry doesn't do this, everyone questions if he's ok and if something happened at work for him to not do that to Steve.

8.Darry won't get a dog till Pony turn 17 and more mature because then the responsibility of the dog can be split more even, and he'd get it as a gift for Pony.

9.Darry has tripped Ponyboy down the stairs for being mouthy and Ponyboy will never let him live it down and Darry is still very proud of his actions to this day.

10.Darry was definitely the quarterback for the football team and his dad was more than proud of him for it. They celebrated with Darry the night he was announced quarterback.

Steve-

1.he's very insecure of his nose. Like people who walk into the DX will make fun of him and mock him for it. At some point it got so bad Steve had to start working exclusively in the back of the DX on cars.

2.He loves rodeos because his mom used to work at them when he was little, so he became very accustomed to watching them he, at some point, got so close with one of the rodeo stars that he was allowed to ride his horse and do some of the jumps.

3.Stevie boy here does not like chocolate cake as much as everyone in this fandom thinks. He likes it enough to eat it. Like Two-Bit ate chocolate cake in one scene and everyone kinda looked over it but Steve eats it and everyone's all like "OHHHHHHHH".

4.Steve had a rough childhood and he had to get close with his male neighbor to learn basic 'dad' tasks from him. So, Steve and his neighbor are really close and have a really good relationship and respect for each other.

5.Steve enjoys drinking on Friday nights at bucks and more often than not Buck will let him have the beer or shots on the house. Steve doesn't get black out drunk but just enough to get buzzed and feel nice.

6.Steve saves up for his own car. He has a separate job where all of the money he earns goes towards buying his first car all on his own and his mom knows of it and is really impressed with Steve's financial decision.

7.If Steve were to have a pet, he'd have a cockatiel named Fred (My sister's idea) and this damn bird would piss Soda, Pony, and Dally so much it's actually crazy. Dallas and this damned bird had a roasting competition, and everyone was judging the shit out of them.

8.Steve likes to bully and I mean bully the shit out of Two-Bit for the fact that he watches Mickey Mouse. However, Steve calmed down on it because Two-Bit doesn't even watch Mickey Mouse all of the time.

9.Steve trips up the girls that make Soda uncomfortable with their comments on Soda's physical appearance. At some point one girl was tripped so hard her face go like 30 scratches on it and it was hilarious.

10.Steve and Two-Bit will do extremely dumb shit together all of the fucking time. Literally Steve tried to do a backflip off of the front porch of the Curtis house and Two-Bit tried to catch him and they both tripped and hit their heads harder as fuck and then blamed Ponyboy.

Two-Bit

1.Well, it's Two-Bit he's a wild card. Unless someone died, he's saying the most random shit ever. The boys were at the drive in and all Two-Bit had to say was "damn I took the longest piss ever yesterday I pissed the new Mississippi River, man."

2.Two-Bit likes to blame Ponyboy for anything and everything he can and everyone finds it so funny because it makes them seem so much alike siblings and its actually so unreal and funny.

3.Whenever Two-Bit is upset, he'll talk to Soda or Steve about it and 9 times out of 10 they can help him out with it. He's really good at getting help when he needs it.

4.Him, Steve and Dallas are some hyper motherfuckers around each other and will all do some dumb shit that will end up hurting all three or two out of the three on one of the three and they can't help but act like total crackheads around each other.

5.Two-Bit isn't actually as obsessed with Mickey Mouse as everyone makes it seems he just happens to enjoy it but that doesn't necessarily mean he has to be absolutely obsessed with it.

6.If Two-Bit had a pet I'm pretty sure he'd have a Raccoon, tell me those bitches don't give off the same energy I know he'd be feeding the raccoon hotdogs 24/7 365. That raccoon is probably fat as fuck man.

7.Two-Bit likes to take walks around Tulsa with Tim or Curly Shepherd and crack the corniest jokes ever with them and wave down cops just to tell them that there was 'trouble' at the dingo.

8.Two-Bit likes to go and volunteer at vet clinics and somehow can always get at least 15 dogs adopted in 1 day and he calls it his big boy charm and use that information as you will.

9.Two-Bit likes to pick berries for Darry so he can make pie, fruit salads, and other deserts. He also has a designated basket for it and unless he has that specific basket, he won't go, he'll just stay home.

10.Two-Bit steals the ingredients for smores and makes a bon fire to roast them with the gang and I already know he likes his mallow burnt and that's ok because that's when they're best and him burning the mallow grosses Dallas out so so so much.

The End

A/n thank you sm for requesting this let me know if you would like more head canons or one including Y/n or spicy ones. Love y'all see ya next time!❤😘

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

okay, I haven't done this yet, but I want to know if I WOULD be the asshole in this situation.

Bath and Body Works is going out of business in Canada (where I live), and seeing as it was the main place I'd get gifts for my mom and grandma (the closest Bath and Body Works to them is over an hour's drive away so getting a nice candle or body wash from there was a rare treat), I picked up a candle for my grandma there while I was getting stuff for my mom for Mother's Day so that this way I could give it to her for her birthday in September. it even has elephants on it! (they're my grandma's favourite animal)

however, shortly after I bought this, I learned from my grandma that her bout of Covid about four months ago has left her still unable to smell anything at all. a scented candle now seems like the worst possible gift I could give her because it's one purpose - smelling nice - is something she can no longer experience, and I know she's decluttering right now in preparation for a move in a year or two's time, so she wouldn't want another useless item in her house.

the problem is, I can't just give this candle to someone else in my family instead, because they all know my grandma adores elephants (she has a rather large collection of elephant figures and even a decent chunk of the decor in her home is elephant-themed) and would probably realize very quickly that it was a gift meant for her being regifted to them, which feels rude to me. there is a chance that my grandma's sense of smell might come back in the next few months, but it isn't a guarantee and I don't want to hold onto something I might not be able to gift to anyone ever.

so it should be noted that I adore scented candles. I like bathing by candlelight, so I go through a lot of them. and I've been very tempted to use the candle I originally bought as a gift, since there's a solid chance I'll never be able to give it to it's intended recipient. I feel kind of like a jackass using something that was supposed to be a gift? but this thing feels like it's taunting me, sitting on my bookshelf, waiting to be used. no one outside from me knows I originally got it for my grandma, either.

tl;dr - would I be the asshole for using something that was meant to be a gift for someone I discovered later can't actually use it? or am I just overthinking this?

What are these acronyms?

[waterlilyspad]

The Horseman's Bride.

Not fandom related, but a short story I made for Halloween, who knows maybe I'll write more. This just kinda hit me out of nowhere.

(TW for violence, mentions of blood and gore, vivid depictions of derealization, panic attacks, near death experiences.)

Out of every moment throughout your life and every single possible slip up, accident, bump in the night, and tiny happenstance you’ve been alright. The time a boy in middle school stuck gum in your hair sure, whatever, that’s fine, the time you thought a van was following you home after work, just for it to be a very confused grandma, whatever. The point being you've never once been confronted with danger, and you were so careful and comfortable with how you lived that you never imagined you’d end up here, feeling everything all at once running through your head the good the bad and the not so bad considering you grew up in a suburb your whole life. The fact is you're running from death itself and there’s no one to save you.

You're running faster than you’ve ever run, almost faster than the man chasing you, well almost as fast if it weren’t for the fact the ground is littered with rocks, exposed roots, and very damp slippery maple leaves. Why horror movie protagonists slip and fall so easily makes so much sense. You also didn’t anticipate being chased down by a serial killer so you neglected to double knot your sneakers before going out today. The laces flopping open with every step. You also didn’t charge your phone for very long, so the advent of calling for help is out of the question by now. It’s agonizingly obvious but, you're going to die tonight.

 It is such a disorienting reality, you feel like you're not you, that you're watching yourself from the outside as you run with all your might, you didn’t amount to much, and it’d probably be a few years before anyone finds you. It’s the worst kind of derealization, why was I born to live such an amazing life? With a family that loved me, with friends that picked me up when I was down, to have nice neighbors, a good home, amazing food, music, clothes, a sense of imagination and wonder that ensured you finished both highschool and college without ever losing yourself along the way, you think, why was I born woman. 

You curse as you begin to descend a hill scraping your  knee along the way down hoping this would throw him off but the killer is still hot on your trail, as if he knows every step and fault of the forest grounds like the back of his hand. If I were born a man maybe I’d still be okay, but I’m not. You think to yourself as you round a few trees dodging and running deeper into the woods your lungs are on fire, breathing is very hard for you, you’re not an athlete but your not entirely unhealthy either, adrenaline is one hell of a chemical response but if you were male maybe you’d stand a fighting chance or maybe this guy wouldn’t have bothered you at all. But none of that matters, the horrible belief remains If you were just running of your own volition you would’ve given up sooner. Your knees begin to shake and wobble, please don’t stop, keep going, you beg in your mind but they don’t listen, and soon enough the perfect mix of everything that could go wrong, goes wrong. You step on your loose shoelace, your leg catches the bridge of an exposed tree root, and your legs aren’t strong enough now to catch yourself, you fall face first into the mud and soot of the earth, picking your head up and trying to get back on your feet is impossible, you’re pretty sure you twisted something, but in the midst of your panic that doesn’t register as you try to pick yourself up, only for your palm to slip on a wet leaf causing you to fall again. He’s coming, you know it, this is it, why was I born to live beautifully, and die horrifically. 

Tears of fear and exhaustion are streaming down your face, your ears are ringing, your heart is pounding like it could jump out of your throat at any minute, and yet time continues oddly and unnervingly it continues without a sound. You're sure the killer is just doing this to give you a false sense of hope, he’s keep playing with you. Raising your head to look around the scene, your met with a dense fog that wasn’t there before, but is now heavily coating the forest, you see what looks like a light source skimming the fog, there’s an uneven walk to it, and your eyes light up, it looks like the light from a lantern, someone is out here. “Hello?! Please help me!” You scream you begin to slowly lift yourself up by holding onto the tree behind you, seeing the light coming closer your relief washes over you, but soon the sight itself seems wrong? The light is placed at a weird distance from the ground that wouldn’t otherwise be within a reasonable arm’s length. It’s hovering high above almost like a very tall street lamp, additionally the sounds of footsteps multiply, it’s the unmistakable sound of hooves stomping into the wet ground. 

Okay maybe it’s a horse rider? On his horse at night just like you do with no murderous intent, your think, but soon your wishful reasoning leaves you as the person nears closer, the fog draping them as they approach, the light isn’t even something they’re holding, it’s illuminating from their head. You rub your eyes to make sure before fear takes hold again. As the rider approaches your met with the incredible but horrifying sight, a man with a carved pumpkin for a head appears, his horse is larger than life, and as dark as sky, its yellow eyes burning into your very soul, nothing here is right, your breathing picks up almost immediately. The horseman reaches to his side pulling out an axe, a small tree axe. Your survival instincts go wild and your skin is jumping, screaming for you to run, and you do, tearing your eyes from the horseman and feebly trying to run before feeling an arm lock itself around your neck. You choke and scream for dear life as a knife is pressed to your throat.

 that is until the wind cuts right behind you, and something warm and wet spatters across your back, you shiver and cry standing completely still your whole body is shaking, your back covered in fresh blood. You slowly turn to look, the man that was chasing you is now lying on the floor, a ghastly black smoke rising out of his exposed neck with his head lying father away from the body on the floor next to you. You let out a scream and cover your mouth as the clacking sound of hooves draws closer to you. You hear a thud as the rider dismounts, your legs feel like jelly, your head buried in your hands as you hunch in fear not wanting to look death in the eyes. Your legs give out entirely you're sure you're going to kneel onto the ground but arms catch you with a quick caution before you're hoisted up slowly with care like someone catching their feeble grandparent. 

You lift your heavy head out of your palms as you look up at the pumpkin looking back down at you, there’s a kind of warmth to it, like a campfire, or the feeling you’d get when putting your hands over a lit candle. You stay silent in frozen sublime, the circular opening of the treetops set a void like halo over the creature, you didn’t know it now but the beyond was staring back at you. In a rush of sounds and other ungodly howls, your attention is drawn to the surrounding area as multiple eyes appear. Creatures of all kinds, humanoid and animalistic alike begin to gather round. The rider stands you up slowly as you remain pinned to his chest. There's a sound like nothing you’ve heard before, you can’t understand it but it’s coming from the rider, something beyond you replies with a sickly laugh, another with a groan, and some creatures begin to back away. “What…What’s going on.” You asked quietly as he stared back down at you, his large hand cupping your shaking one, “Audrey May, trust me.” He assures before he kneels with you, your legs finally giving out as you sit on the ground and rest against his front, you look up and around noticing ghastly like apparitions and creatures watching you and the rider with feverish intent. 

So many questions are floating in your head now to the point it makes you dizzy, just trying to come up with a clear thought is a herculean task in itself. All of it instantly melts away as your right hand is lifted,  you watch as his other free hand lifts a ring to your finger. You're too out of it to react, reserving yourself to staring on in horror and shock, was this thing serious?! You look up at him with a look of pure confusion he responds with a whisper. “Play along.” You're relieved slightly but still uneasy, his large hand slowly lifting the ring to your small finger, it slides on like a glove like it was made for you and you alone. After the deed is done he lifts your hand to his false mouth making a kiss-like motion you realize in that moment the jack o lantern on his head is just that, a gourd and not his actual head as the carvings remain still. “Shall we?” He asks with more volume than before, you nod playing along with this supposedly pretend proposal. His arms link behind and beneath you as  you’re hoisted up to him. your arms link around his shoulders and behind his neck as he lifts you up with minimal effort before walking towards the horse. 

Your eyes scan the area, there are ghastly figures all smiling, some talking amongst each other laughing with a horrible sound, you look up to the tree to see child-like figures giggling. More and more of them appear to watch the horseman take his claim.  You look behind you over his shoulder and see the body of the man who was after you and his head lying in the dirt, his face frozen with terror staring up at you, it makes you uneasy, you look away immediately. The rider lets your legs down and instructs you to hold yourself by the saddle rope as he mounts, once he’s mostly up his arm wraps around your back and in one swift motion hoist’s you up onto the black stallion along with himself. He secures himself on the saddle and makes sure your secure as well, the creatures of the woods growing closer to the sight. The horseman has you lean in close as he grabs hold of the reins, his head turns to the nearing creatures. “Eat and be merry.” He instructs at his word they dash to the body, you close your eyes as the rider yips and the horse marches forward, the crowd making way for the two of you as they focus on their meal.

 The horse gains speed as you exit the scene, flying through the woods with the clicking of hooves, the wind flying around you as you begin to breathe more easily, everything in your body hurts and the jumping of the horse’s pace digs into your aching body. You shiver as the cold hits your sweat, against your better judgment you lean into the rider shaking, he’s well aware of this, his right arm letting go of the rein and closing in to hold you to him. The two of you ride into a clearing that looks like an open field. Slowly you feel your chest lighten at the sight of trees opening to a clear. Above the wall of mist and fog a starry night, you look up, your eyes growing heavy as the weight of your entire ordeal washes over you, exhaustion hits once your adrenaline has subsided, so you just stare up at the underside of this strange pumpkin man whatever he is. Maybe you're safe or maybe you're not, but dammit you were going to sleep, you thought to yourself as the cold wind blew the hair from your face, please if you're some evil killer like the last one, please at least let me die while sleeping, would you? You think as your mind washes to black; you fall into a deep sleep.

((Little fun note in folklore Dullahans are the harbingers of death that lead souls to the afterlife, makes you think.))

[lyrakanefanatic]

Thoughts that I wanted to share about the brothers Hawthorne/ the grandest game bc I don’t wanna make a million posts about each one 💀

1: Phone girls dad literally shot himself ON. HER. BIRTHDAY. 😭😭

2: Skye Hawthorne MIGHT be in the grandest game, because when Avery got bombed and Ricky and skye got arrested for it, they found out that it actually wasn’t them which means they prob got out of jail (maybe not Ricky but probably skye) and she might be controlling one of the players

3: WE’LL PROBABLY GET TO SEE A SUNSHINE X GRUMPY TROPE!! (Mathias and Gigi)

4: we’ll see which 7 contestants avery will pick for the game!! (While I was writing that instead of contestants I accidentally put tributes 💀)

5: we might learn more about Toby’s backstory (or just the Hawthorne backstories in general, like Zara’s, nans or Alice’s)

6: speaking of Alice, SOMEHOW THAT OLD GRANDMAS GOING TO BE ALIVE

7: this isn’t really a prediction but more just like a possible hint for the grandest game, but when grayson tells his brothers about the riddle “what begins a bet? Not that”, Jameson says this

He says “what’s the opposite of a handshake?” And I found a picture online that shows multiple different options of what could be the opposite of a handshake

Basically most of the words on there kind of show “misinterpretation” or just different words for some sort of mistake, so would that mean that the “beef” (im just gonna call it that bc I don’t rlly know what went down) between tobias and thomas thomas was maybe accidental?? Or maybe they got into a disagreement that ended in thomas ending his life? All the book really shows is that one paragraph (that I highlighted in green) that talks about what Jameson thought of the riddle, and then Jameson was talking to Avery about the game (probs bc jlb didn’t wanna drop too many hints lmao) And then if you add it in with the “abet” theory ⬇️

It said that one of the opposites of a handshake were “refusal” and “disagreement”, so what if tobias had wanted thomas to aid one of his crimes and thomas refused, and maybe tobias gave him an ultimatum which is why he shot himself?? It’s so confusing bc what would tobias even do that was so horrible that thomas had to shoot himself, I really don’t know. but if anyone has some theory’s on this pls lmk! 🫶

8: holy guacamole 7 was a long one, but anyway i feel like there are definitely more hints on the grandest game in the brothers Hawthorne then there were in the final gambit, even though in (i think tig is the one that clue was from?) the inheritance games “special” edition bc idk what their called it said “hints in the final gambit”. (although one loose end from tig was David Golding, and @riddles-n-games had a good theory about that) But i read the final gambit entirely and didn’t find a single clue other than David, so that’s kinda weird (unless somebody else found something else they found interesting in that book?)

9: Eve might also be behind one of the players, or just trying to get involved with the game so she could get the cash prize or whatever else it is that that psycho needs 🙄

10: we’ll (most likely, bc I’m 99.9% sure that she’ll be in tgg) see what phone girl looks like and see which one of us were right 😜

11: kinda random but i will bet a whole 5 dollars that phone girls name is either gonna be flower related, or just straight up be lily. Or maybe both, but just think of how ironic that would be (there are calla lilys all over the cover of tgg… 🤷‍♀️)

12: LIBBY NASH WEDDING!!! 🤭🤭🤭💗

13: so off topic but WHERE DO GRAYSON AND JAMESON GET THEIR MONEY FROM??? like I’m sure jameson probably gets some cash from his billionaire girlfriend, but what about grayson?? he says in tbh that he’s “buried in work” but what kind of work does he do?? and who does he work for?? 🤨

14: Okay this is gonna be the last one bc i need to shut up, but does anybody have an idea on what some things in the grandest game cover might symbolize? we know about the lilys and the opal rings, but other than that i CANT seem to figure out anything else on there 😭😭

and okay that’s all thank you for coming to my ted talk 🫶😊🙌