#robin speaks . ♡

[sweetestflow3rs]

DOL LI ( including Wren & Harper ) Voice Actor HCs ♡

[luvuomi]

i’ve been listening to robin’s music on repeat lately and it reminded me how much i adore her character 🤍

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

♡

✧ ── 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 ♡ 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍

●●○○○ | ATTRACTION ●●●●● | AFFECTION ●●○○○ | INTEREST ●●●●● | LOYALTY ●●●●● | TRUST

LOW | ●●●●● | HIGH

── Oh Akio Akio Akio, where to even begin? Upon their first meeting there was a cruel indifference between the two of them but after a bit of time these two found a tenderness in the other that they truly needed. They balance eachother in a gentle way, not pushing or pulling too hard and accepting eachother in their flawed states. They genuinely hold a very sweet connection and Robin adores him completely; he trusts Akio with his life, and he will protect Akio's as well. It's a peculiar sensation for Robin to be able to relax around anyone, and sometimes it frightens him with how easily Akio is able to get his guard to lower. It is strange to feel so ... safe.

[softlypossessive]

Hello! I hope you’ve been having a great day. I was wondering if I could request a strawhat x mute!reader. The reader has selective mutism, meaning she gets anxiety speaking to people in certain situations. When she does speak, which would be rare, it’s only when it’s just her and her crew. If she was in public she and had to say something she would whisper directly in their ear, otherwise she wouldn’t speak. The relationship could be either platonic or romantic, either is fine. I was wondering how would the strawhats react to their mute member being in a situation where pirates of a different crew surrounds and antagonizes her, trying to get her to speak to them. Also, may I ask that you not make the reader meek and defenseless? While she does feel anxiety when she’s in a situation where she has to speak to people, she’s not an overall anxious and docile person.

♡･ﾟ𓏸 All Strawhats x Selectively Mute!Reader Headcanons 𓏸･ﾟ♡

♡ Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Robin, Franky, Jinbe, Brook, Chopper, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Fluff, Soft protectiveness, mutual understanding, SFW, platonic, romantic if you squint?? mentions of selective mutism, quiet affirmations, crew-wide affection, no use of Y/N, ♡ Notes: Thank you so much for the request! I really hope I did it justice <3 I went with a full crew interpretation (since it’s SFW) and leaned into that strong, warm platonic love—though if you squint, a few bits might read a lil more intimate. But overall? This crew would go to war for you, no questions asked. Not spicy, just full of love and loyalty.

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

🍖 Luffy

At first, Luffy doesn’t get it.

“Why don’t you talk to them? Are they stupid?” (Yes, Luffy. Yes, they are.)

But the moment it clicks—that your silence isn’t a weakness but a boundary—he respects it with his whole chest

He never pressures you to speak. Like, ever. He doesn’t even notice you don’t talk half the time because he just vibes with your presence

You're still his crewmate, still part of the adventure, still cool as hell in his book

When you do whisper to him? Man lights up like a SUNRISE

“WAAAH YOU TALKED TO ME!!!”

Cue excitement. He treasures those moments

He absolutely throws hands if anyone tries to mock or push you into speaking.

No hesitation.

One second of antagonizing you = rubber punch to the jaw

Thinks your ability to stand silent and still in chaos is scary cool

"You don't need words to be strong. I can feel it. You're STRONG."

⚔️ Zoro

Completely unbothered by your silence—he’s not exactly chatty either

You two could sit in silence for three hours and that’s a perfect conversation to him

He clocks your selective mutism immediately and never asks questions you don’t want to answer

If you whisper something in his ear in public, he listens like it’s sacred scripture

He’s incredibly protective—not because he thinks you’re weak, but because he hates people who mistake quiet for easy prey

The moment someone tries to force words out of you? Zoro’s sword is already out

“You really think pressure makes people talk? Try bleeding first. Then we’ll compare notes.”

He absolutely respects that your silence is a form of control, not submission

Will stand at your shoulder like a silent wall of steel until you nod it’s okay to move

🍳 Sanji

Sanji is a soft king when it comes to your comfort

Doesn’t just “accept” your mutism—he adapts to it

Develops a whole love language around your silences: gestures, hand squeezes, looks, shared glances over food

If you whisper in his ear in public? He goes red every time no matter what you said

Treats your rare spoken words like poetry.

"Your voice... I could die happy now."

But if anyone dares try to “make you speak,” he’s fury on legs

“If you wanted a conversation, you should’ve kept your tongue attached.”

Elegant fury. Fires the first kick. Lights a cigarette after the last one drops

Thinks your silence adds to your mystique and honestly simps hard for it

“They don’t need to talk, idiot. They’re already unforgettable.”

🛠️ Usopp

Understands your selective mutism right away—relates through his own anxiety

Never makes it a big deal, just accepts it as part of who you are

Acts as your unofficial hype man 24/7

Narrates your silence like it’s legendary

“My friend here? Silent assassin. Writes poetry. Could kill you in three moves. Show some respect.”

Gets so excited whenever you whisper to him

“THEY SAID SOMETHING TO ME. PERSONALLY. ME.”

Makes little gadgets to help you communicate—flip signs, buttons, visual cues

If anyone mocks or pressures you to speak, he steps up immediately

Starts going off in a fiery, ridiculous, clearly-exaggerated monologue about how you’re a silent warrior who once stared down a sea king until it cried.

“You’re really gonna push someone who could take you out with one look?”

Absolutely nervous but still defends you—protective even when shaking

Later brags about it like he was chill the whole time

Thinks your silence is mysterious, heroic, and honestly? Very cool

🍊 Nami

Notices your mutism instantly and adjusts without missing a beat

Communicates with subtle cues: touch, eye contact, quiet words

Always leans in when you whisper, gives you her full attention

Becomes your translator in crowds, sharp and effective

“They said back off. Before I make you.”

If someone tries to force you to talk, she doesn’t hold back

Fights with sass, smarts, and no mercy—protects you because you’re strong, not in spite of it

Never treats you like a problem to fix

Calls your mutism a boundary, not a flaw

Gets genuinely touched when you whisper something soft to her

“Only the right people get to hear that voice.”

Thinks you’re powerful in your silence—deadly, beautiful, and fierce

📚 Robin

Understands without needing it explained—she’s lived through silence herself

Views your selective mutism as deliberate, powerful, elegant

You’re not “mute” to her—you’re discerning. And that makes you brilliant in her book.

She’s very observant.

Not only does she notice the exact kinds of situations that make you shut down, she preemptively handles them.

Like casually standing next to you in crowds. Leaning in so you can whisper without stress. Ordering your drink without being asked.

You two become silent duo queens, communicating entire conversations with eye contact and head tilts

But when you’re surrounded, alone, and pirates are sneering in your face?

One of them laughs, “They mute or just stupid?”

Six arms bloom from the stone walls and grab all of them by the throat.

Robin walks up, smiling politely.

“It seems you’re the stupid ones.”

She looks to you and tilts her head.

“Would you like me to break their arms or their egos?”

You murmur a single word

“Egos.”

She smiles wider.

Later, you slip her a note with a tiny sketch of her stepping on the pirate’s face. She folds it into her book like a pressed flower.

🔧 Franky

Thought you were just “cool and mysterious” at first—didn’t realize your silence was tied to selective mutism

When he does figure it out? Immediate SUPER™ respect

Doesn’t try to make you talk—just makes sure you always feel welcome in the workshop

Builds you custom tools or a gadget to help if you want to communicate in crowded places—only if you’re into it

“You don’t gotta say a thing, dude. You just being here is already awesome!”

Treats your rare spoken words like a backstage VIP pass

Will absolutely body block anyone who corners you or tries to force you to speak

If someone mocks you? Cue cyborg intimidation mode

“Real strength ain’t about talkin’. It’s about doin’. And you? You’ve got that in spades.”

Loves hearing you whisper in his ear in public.

Instantly salutes.

“COMMAND RECEIVED!!”

Thinks your silence adds mystery and badassery—he’s kind of obsessed tbh

“You’re like… like a silent laser beam! Precise! Lethal! SUPER!!”

🌊 Jinbe

Understands immediately—doesn’t need an explanation

Has deep emotional intelligence and respects boundaries like a king

Offers quiet companionship when you need it, never pressuring conversation

Has an entire repertoire of gentle nods and thoughtful glances for when words aren’t needed

If you whisper to him, he leans in with the patience of a mountain

“You do not need to speak to be heard.”

Would stand calmly beside you if you're being antagonized—silent, unmoving, radiating “Try me.” energy

If someone pushes you to talk? He won’t raise his voice—but he will command the entire room’s attention

“If your ears are so desperate for sound, perhaps you should listen to your own foolishness.”

He believes your silence holds weight—calls it “the stillness before a wave”

Deeply respects how you fight without words—calls it “an elegant form of strength”

Makes sure the crew understands your boundaries without ever making a fuss of it

Absolute guardian energy, with the soul of a poet

🎻 Brook

Surprisingly intuitive about your silence despite being loud himself

Doesn’t ask invasive questions—just rolls with it, happily filling silences with songs or stories

Makes gentle jokes to ease tension but always watches your cues

“Ah, you didn’t laugh out loud, but I saw that smile! Yohohoho!”

If you whisper something in public? Dramatic swoon every time

“A private word?! For me?! Oh my heart—wait, I don’t have one!! Yohoho!”

He absolutely writes songs about you—like full orchestral ballads of silent bravery

Believes your silence is poetic and meaningful

“Some voices are loudest without sound.”

If someone antagonizes you? Brook’s polite tone goes cold

“Your disrespect will not go unnoticed, even by one without eyes.”

cue chill-inducing violin chord

Protects you through unexpected intimidation—he’s goofy until he isn’t

Thinks your energy is ghostly and powerful in a way he deeply respects

Refers to you as “the whisper between storms” in one of his songs

🧸 Chopper

Soooo gentle and sweet with you from day one

Was nervous at first like

“Did I do something wrong? Why don’t they talk to me?”

But once he understands, he’s all in: brings you tea, sits nearby while you write, never pressures you

“You don’t have to talk. I still know you like me, right?”

Will make you little cue cards or cute picture communication tools if you want help in public

If you whisper to him, he melts.

��AHHH THEY TALKED TO ME! I MEAN—I’M COOL. I’M NORMAL.”

If someone bullies you or gets pushy?

Normally sweet Chopper goes feral mode

“BACK OFF! YOU DON’T GET TO DECIDE HOW THEY TALK!”

Will patch you up after fights and praise how you held your own, even without words

“You’re one of the strongest people I know… You don’t even need a voice to be amazing!”

Lowkey keeps a medical log of when you speak or interact more—only to make sure you’re doing okay mentally

Feels extra close to you because you both were misunderstood at first

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You were only gone five minutes.

Five minutes to run down the street and grab new ink, maybe peek into the bookstore. Five minutes away from the crew.

Apparently, that was enough.

They came out of nowhere—half a dozen rough-looking pirates, loud and posturing. One of them stepped in front of you as you turned to leave.

"Oi, sweetheart. Why so quiet?"

You didn’t respond.

"Too good to talk to us?" "Or maybe you think you're better?" "C’mon, just say hi." "We don’t bite… much.”

They leaned in. Circling. Testing.

You stared them down, face flat, spine straight, hand hovering near your weapon—but still, you said nothing. You didn’t owe them a damn word.

And that’s when the sound of boots hit the street behind you.

Not loud. Not rushed. But deliberate.

Zoro was the first. Leaning against the alley wall like he’d been there the whole time. He didn’t draw a sword. He didn’t need to.

Sanji stepped up next, cracking his knuckles with a smile that didn't touch his eyes. Smoke curled from the edge of his lips.

Nami lingered behind them, arms crossed, watching. Sharp gaze narrowed. Robin’s shadow moved just beside hers—subtle, but present. You could feel it.

And then there was Luffy.

No drama. No yelling. He just appeared beside you, hands in his pockets, staring straight at the loudest one.

They all paused, instincts kicking in. A shift in the air.

“…This your crew?” one of them asked, voice suddenly less cocky.

You leaned in close to Luffy’s ear, barely a breath.

"I didn’t need help."

He grinned. "I know."

Silence again. Until he tilted his head, smile gone now.

"I just didn’t like the way they talked to you."

That was it.

That was all it took.

The men backed off. Fast. No fight. Just the weight of the crew’s presence and Luffy’s quiet fury pressing down on them like a stormcloud. They knew better.

As they vanished down the street, Luffy turned to you, still smiling—loose and easy like nothing had happened.

You sighed and bumped your shoulder against his in thanks. He bumped back.

Zoro huffed a quiet breath, like he’d been hoping for action. Sanji smoothed his jacket, still glaring at the retreating pirates. Chopper poked your arm, worried, but you just gave him a nod.

The crew didn’t make a big deal of it.

No lectures. No questions.

Just a warm space carved out around you.

Safe. Quiet. Yours.

Because you didn’t need words for them to hear you.

And they didn’t need words to say “We’ve got your back.”

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

[moonstruckme]

you rang for steve requests!!!

you write him so soft and boyish and nice, i've been wanting to request something and i just got an idea!

maybe some hurt comfort about reader coming to the starcourt parking lot to pick up steve (and robin and dustin) as soon as they hear abt the fire? or the emts asking steve who they should call and he just says rs phone number, and then like a "you came" "you called" moment?

I did ring, thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: season 3 canon events, reader is in the dark but won't be for much longer, mentions of physical injury, fire, suspicious governement folks covering shit up as suspicious government folks do

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 868 words

Your throat is impossibly dry the whole drive to the mall. Dry, and tight, like you couldn’t swallow if you tried. The parking lot is filled with everything from firetrucks to military helicopters, which you won’t think to wonder about until later. You’re scanning the smattering of people for Steve before you’re even out of the car. 

You don’t actually remember parking. Or pulling your keys from the ignition, or opening your door. The next thing you know you’re breathing in smoke and bumping shoulders with firefighters, your focus narrowed on the back of an ambulance. 

“Steve?” 

Your voice is hoarse, but he looks up like he can sense you. You see his lips form your name, brow bunching in that cute way of his. You start running. 

“Steve!” 

“Hey, hi.” He stands from the chassis of the ambulance, rocking back a little when he catches you. You hug him fiercely. “What’re you doing here?” 

He smells like smoke and oddly like iron, his skin damp with sweat. You don’t care; you curl your face into his neck. “I saw the fire on the news.”

“So you…drove towards it?” 

“I knew you were here!” You pull away from him, suddenly furious. “Why do you always have to work on your stupid project at night?” Steve’s been up to something lately. He won’t tell you about it, but you know it involves Robin and Dustin and something to do with translation. Steve says it’s not important but he acts like it is, and he’s been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about the whole thing. “Where’s Robin? Is she—” 

“She’s fine, she’s over there.” Steve juts his chin to the right. Through the smoke and chaos, you can just make out her familiar silhouette. She’s standing with a couple of kids about Dustin’s age. 

You let out a breath that turns into a shiver, and Steve cups your arms, rubbing up and down almost thoughtlessly. It melts down your anger into something wetter. When you look at him again, your voice is rough. 

“What happened to you?” 

“I’m fine, honey.” 

“Steve, your face.” 

He touches it, as though the tableau of black and purple bruises had slipped his mind. It’s hard to tell if his wince is from pain or remorse. “Right, yeah. Um…” 

“Mr. Harrington.” A voice comes from behind you, brusque and tired-sounding. You press closer to Steve instinctively, protective, but Steve’s face lights with recognition. 

“Oh. Hey, Doc.” 

You turn, too surprised to do much for covering your bemusement. Why would a doctor be wearing military gear like this, and be followed by a soldier carrying a gun? 

“Can we speak to you for a minute?” 

“Sure,” Steve says, but you talk over him. 

“No.” 

The man—Doc, whoever he is—looks at you as though just noticing you’re there. You steel yourself, but his gaze is more kind than hostile. Sympathetic, even. 

Steve squeezes your hip gently. “Y/n—” 

“No.” 

You don’t know what these people want with Steve, but you know you don’t like it. Your instincts are screaming at you not to let him go. To keep him close, preferably forever. 

Steve looks past you. “Can you give us a minute?” 

They go without a fight, seemingly assured in your boyfriend’s ability to placate you. You don’t want to be placated. You feel patronized and pent-up, and you blame that for the stinging tears that invade your vision. You cling to the fabric of Steve’s shirt like a vice. 

“Hey,” he lowers his voice, head dropping to meet your eyes. “It’s fine, they just wanna talk to me.” 

“Why? Can’t it wait? You just got out of a burning building, you—” 

“It won’t take long. They just want me to tell them what happened.” 

“You haven’t even told me what happened.” Your voice tightens and splinters, fist clenching so hard in Steve’s shirt you can feel your own nails through the fabric. Steve grabs your face in a panic. 

“Honey, it’s fine. Okay? It’s fine. I’ll tell you,” he says in a rush, then pauses. Something new comes over his expression, and he drops his forehead to yours. Lets out a breath. “I’ll tell you, I promise. Later, okay? This’ll just take a minute, and then we’ll go back to my place and talk. Alright?” 

You feel silly, sniffling and with tears on your cheeks, but you nod. 

“Okay,” Steve breathes out. His grip on your face gentles, cradling your jaw as he bends to kiss you. 

It’s meant to be a brief, conciliatory kiss, you know, but with all your overwhelm and all Steve has no doubt been through it heats up fast. You’re both gasping when he pulls away, using a thumb to wipe the wetness from your cheeks. 

“I’ll be right back,” he promises you. 

“You better be,” you threaten. You’re really quite serious, but Steve smiles, and naturally the sight of it makes your lips tug too. 

“I will,” he says. “Just, wait here, okay? Right back.” 

You hop up on the ambulance as he goes, making his way through the smoke to where Doc and his armed buddies wait for him by a helicopter. You couldn’t take your eyes off him if you tried.

[robinvomit]

the sheets rustled as he leaned over you, the warm scent of clean cotton and his cologne lingering in the air. rich, familiar, grounding. his gloved fingers pulled the blanket up higher over your chest, tucking it around your arms like he was sealing you away. he didn't speak at first. just studied your face in the dim light, the shadows dancing along his cheekbones, the flicker of restraint in his jaw.

patrol was calling him but it never got easier; leaving you here. still. alone. vulnerable in a way that made his skin crawl.

"don't wait up for me," he said softly, but the tone told you it wasn't a request. it was a quiet command, the kind filled with worry instead of pride. "i know that look. you'll sit there watching the door until it opens. it is not necessary." he touched your cheek, leather brushing over the bone. "i need you rested. whole. safe. that's how you protect me in return."

you blinked up at him, mumbled a sleepy protest but he leaned in, pressed his lips to your temple and it felt like time stilled. "promise me," he said, quieter this time. "sleep. let me worry about the city. let me be selfish enough to want you dreaming and unbothered when i come home."

you promised, like you always did. swore it with your pinky curled around his, a tiny tradition you both mocked but never skipped. because what vow was heavier than a pinky promise? he gave a low, amused breath and left the room, the whisper of his cape the last sound before the quiet settled around you.

you watched the door for a minute longer, wishing somewhere in the back of your thoughts that he'd reappear and tell you he wasn't going. that never happened. but sleep never greeted you, either.

♡

it was 4:06 a.m. when the door finally creaked open. damian stilled in the entryway, eyes catching on the glow of your phone lighting your face from below and did his best to hold back the deepest sigh a man could offer. you looked up, caught mid-scroll. caught awake. he exhaled, the corner of his mouth twitching, somewhere between irritation and affection.

"you lasted four hours longer than last time," he said as he stepped into the bedroom, voice dry as ever, but stripped of it's usual sharp edge. his phone was sat on the dresser, the soft shuffle of socks replacing the harsh echo of boots. "a new record, beloved. shall we aim for five next week?"

"i wasn't waiting," you chimed, frowning a little. "i just couldn't sleep."

he didn't respond.

he peeled off the black sweater he'd thrown on upon shedding his gear, tugging it over his head with a quiet groan. his hair was messed up from the wind, features tinted pink from the cold. he looked younger in the warm light of your bedside lamp, softer even. just damian now, not robin. just a boy with tired shoulders and a spine that didn't want to hold up the world anymore.

you watched from the pillow, phone in hand, eyes heavy but guilty. you knew he worried when you didnt sleep. he changed into a simple sleep shirt and drawstring pants, movements slow but practiced, passing the dresser again to set his watch on its tray. when he finally crossed the room, you instinctively scooted forward a few inches to make room for him, like always.

he slipped into bed behind you with no fanfare, the place he belonged at the end of the day, the mattress dipping with his weight. his palm found your waist before he bothered to speak.

"you'll rest now," he whispered fondly but firm. he reached around and gently tugged the phone from your fingers, reaching back to set it face down on the nightstand before wrapping his arm fully around you. "sleep."

the silence that followed wasn't empty. it was safe. warm. full of him. and sleep finally came.

[lovebugism]

miss bug I have something to ask 🙋‍♀️

i don’t know if you do sickfics but! mayhaps steve and shy!reader where she doesn’t show up for school, steve goes to her house, and she’s utterly mortified because she feels like she’s nowhere near presentable

thank u for requesting!! — king steve pays his lab partner a visit when he hears you're sick, but definitely not because he has a crush on you (shy!reader, friends to lovers | 1.6k)

bug's two year celebration ♡

Steve waits for you that morning with half a bagel and his heart in his throat.

The desks in Ms. Click’s class grow slowly full with bustling bodies — some sluggish like zombies, others too chipper for an early morning. Steve cranes his head in search of your face in the crowd. Yours never shows, which is strange for Hawkins High’s future Valedictorian.

“Where is your partner, Mr. Harrington?” Ms. Click wonders beneath the grating morning bell. She ducks her head to peer across the classroom over her sparkly, cat-eye glasses.

Steve pauses, mid-bite of his sausage-egg-and-cheese. He shrugs wordlessly, with a wad of food jutting his cheek and crumbs sticking to his mouth.

The older woman sighs, too used to King Steve’s antics. She looks past him and asks, “What about you, Miss Buckley? Where’s Carol?”

“Probably under the bleachers with Tommy Hagan,” Robin mutters under her breath, though loud enough for everyone around her to hear, causing them to bite back their subsequent laughter. Steve, himself, nearly chokes on his bagel.

“Well, you’ll just have to pair up with Steven for the day,” Ms. Click tells her.

“Oh, god…” Robin groans in a whisper.

“Get to work.”

Steve spins his chair around to face the girl behind him, who he only really knew because of how highly you spoke of her. Despite your frequent praises, Robin doesn’t even look at him, nor does she bother to make mindless small talk. She just keeps her head down and scribbles notes on a worksheet. 

Steve, in spite of their differing statuses, struggles to find the courage to talk to her.

He slouches and tilts back his chair. “Hey, do you, um—”

“We don’t have to make conversation, alright?” Robin interjects before he can even start. She keeps her head bowed but glares daggers from beneath her lashes. “Let’s just get this hour over with so we never speak to each other again.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Well, I was— I was just gonna ask where your friend was. ‘Cause I don’t think she’s missed a day since, like, kindergarten.”

Robin’s freckled face flushes. She’d feel worse about being so short with him if he wasn’t such a douchebag. “Oh. Uh, she’s— She’s sick, I think.”

“Sick?”

His chest pinches with an immediate worry. Robin bites back a smirk at King Steve’s palpable concern for arguably the biggest nerd on this side of Hawkins. “Yeah,” she shrugs. “I figured she was just allergic to your hairspray.”

Steve laughs under his breath and turns away. Robin smiles only until he looks back at her, now with a brown paper bag in hand. It was meant to be for you — an even piece of his bagel, ‘cause he knows you don’t get breakfast yourself. He figures you’d rather not want it to go to waste.

“Want my other half?” he offers to the girl across from him, like some kinda olive branch.

Robin’s eyes dart from Steve to the paper sack and back again. It goes against every code in her personal handbook to take anything from Hawkins Royalty, but she shrugs in response anyway. “What the hell. Sure.”

—————

Finding your trailer isn’t hard. He visited there, once, for a project at the beginning of the school year. It’s the house directly across from the Freak’s. Eddie made it a point to play his guitar as loud as he possibly could, knowing The Hair was around to hear it. (Munson would never miss an opportunity to annoy King Steve, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him).

Steve decides to make his entrance through your bedroom window. Dead, unmanicured grass crunches under his sneakers as he rounds your trailer. He rises to the tips of his toes and knocks four times on the high-up window. The old glass feels strangely delicate under his fist.

He waits for an answer for several long moments. When he doesn’t get one, he lifts his hand to knock again. The window squeaks open before he can — and there he finds you, standing above him, holding a half-empty box of tissues in your hand like you plan to hit him with it.

“Whoa—” Steve flinches.

You look equally shocked to see him, fear swimming in your glassy eyes. “Oh, my god—”

“Sorry,” he grimaces with his palms splayed in surrender. “It’s just me.”

“I thought you were a burglar or something…”

“And what? You were gonna take me out with a box of tissues?” His laughter feels like warm honey compared to your splitting, icy migraine.

You take in a heaving breath and swallow hard through a stinging throat. “Sorry,” you sniffle. “Come— Come in.”

As Steve climbs through your window, trying hard not to get caught in the curtains, you become very hyperaware of your living space. It is your childhood bedroom, after all — every phase of your life is stored within these tiny four walls. Posters, trinkets, slightly dated decor. And on top of all that, you’ve been living like a total slob since you got sick over the weekend.

Your bed’s a mess, you’ve got bottled water and tissues piling in the bin, and you haven’t changed out of your pajamas in two days. It’s certainly no way to greet the king of Hawkins High, though he doesn’t quite seem to mind.

“You coulda just knocked on the door, you know?” you mumble, slightly nasally, as you swipe a balled-up tissue under your nose. “I would’ve let you in.”

Steve pants and stands to full height again, finally in your room with little to no struggle (though he’s pretty sure he’s stamped his footprint on your wall). 

“Well, what can I say? I like to make an entrance,” he jokes with a lopsided smile. The rosy expression fades when your glassy eyes glaze over with a faraway look. “…You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just…” you shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. “I’m just a little lightheaded. That’s all.”

Steve rushes to your swaying form without thinking. He grasps your arms in two wide, gentle hands. His honey eyes are wide and wild as they dart over your features, sufficiently bleary with whatever bug you’ve caught. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you insist despite the obvious. “Just can’t break this stupid fever.”

“Here. Lay back down.”

He guides you the short distance to your bed, foreignly patient with your sluggish movements. He keeps a hold of you with one hand and reaches for the mussed blankets with the other, pulling them back to ease you beneath them.

“Sorry for bailing on you today,” you apologize in nearly inaudible slurs as the boy props you against the pillows. 

Steve shakes his head with a quiet smile. “You’re sick. It’s okay. Stop apologizing,” he insists and tucks the covers on top of you again. You can smell his aftershave when he leans over you, a striking minty scent that melts nicely with his deeper cologne.

“Sorry,” you repeat before you can help it.

Steve rises again and fights the urge to brush the hair sticking to your clammy cheek. “Have you had any medicine?”

“I had some… cough syrup earlier…” you slur, face half-buried in the pillows.

“What about food?” he asks with his hand on his cocked hip. “Had any of that?”

“‘M too sick for food.”

Steve laughs and fills the gloomy room with sunshine. “You have to eat, babe. So you can get your energy back. That’s, like, science or whatever—”

His eyes widen, only then realizing his use of the nickname. His heart drops to his ass. He hopes he said it so quickly that you missed it. You seem to have, as sick as you are, basically half-asleep before him.

You’d heard it, though. The word alone has your delicate heart beating with a newfound fervor. You can’t tell if it’s killing you or bringing you back to life.

Steve starts rambling before he realizes it. “I can whip you something up, if you want. I make a mean macaroni and cheese— In the microwave, obviously, ‘cause I’m less likely to burn it that way. Did you know that you can actually burn pasta in the microwave? Yeah, I had to learn that one the hard way—”

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can you just sit with me?” you sniffle, eyes still shut. “Please?”

He nods rapidly until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Yeah, of— Of course, yeah.”

The boy climbs into your bed with a lot less confidence than he’s used to. This is by no means the first time he’s been in another girl’s bed, but something about this one feels different. This time, he has to keep reminding himself to breathe. This time, his hands are all clammy and tingling with an anxiety he isn’t used to. This time, he feels so utterly unsure in his body that he doesn’t know how he became King Steve in the first place — let alone how he got here, next to you.

What’d an asshole like me do to deserve all this? his mind reels.

Your breath catches when the mattress dips under his weight. He sits over the covers, but still a lot closer than you thought he might, all things considered. You turn slowly onto your back to look at him without going dizzy again.

“You’re not scared you’ll get sick?” you croak, blinking up at him with sleep-swollen eyes.

Steve shrugs with his back propped against the headboard. “Not really. I mean, what’s the worst-case scenario— I get sick and have to be quarantined here with you? That doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

His lips curl into a lopsided smile that makes your chest feel sparkly. You turn away and hide your own grin in the pillow. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,” you quip, half-muffled in the cushion.

“Yeah, I know,” he hums, never once taking his eyes off you. 

He can’t wait to kiss you when you’re better.

[buggyluv]

Non-sexual turn ons | One Piece ♡

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

small, innocent things you do that turns them on

masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

characters: law, nami, robin, zoro

genre: smut (minors dni)

cw: fem!reader, hair pulling for nami's, semi public making out/heavy petting

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Law - wearing glasses

You had hid your glasses from Law at first, worried that he would find you less attractive, but when he sees the glasses case in your room, he begs you to put them on.

You two have been relaxing in bed together, and innocent kisses quickly escalate to heavy petting. You're straddling him, rocking your hips against his. You start to think you might cum without even taking your clothes off, but Law's firm grip on your hips stops your movement.

“Can you do something for me?” he asks, leaning over to rummage in the bedside table drawer. When he pulls out your glasses case, you go to protest but he speaks before you can open your mouth

“Babe just put them on for me. I want to see them on,” he says. You haven't noticed yet, but he's already hard thinking about what you'd look like. You groan and take them from his hand.

“I don't get why you want me to put them on. It's not like I'm any hotter with them,” you say as you push them onto your face. Law goes to respond, but after seeing you in glasses he freezes. You begin to feel self-conscious because of Law's lack of response. However, you're shocked when you reach your hand up to take off your glasses, and Law shouts out ‘no’.

You're initially confused about his outburst but Law is quick to recover and pulls you in a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth against yours and his hands begin to wander your body. When he pulls back for air, he explains himself.

“you look so fucking sexy in those. Please let me fuck you. Can you feel how hard I am?”

Nami - red lipstick

Date night between you and Nami was always special, but this time you've decided to get ready together. The silence had been tension-filled, With both of you keeping an eye on each other as you went about your beauty routine.

You're putting your makeup on, and you've got it down to a science and move freely, stealing glances at the woman sitting next to you. You turn back to add the final touch: a red lipstick. You're so focused on getting the application right that you don't notice Nami is watching you.

As the stick glides over your lips, Nami can't take her eyes off it. The movement is simple, but it has her stomach fluttering. As soon as you finish and turn to her for approval, she pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss. The kiss smudges the lipstick and transfers onto her skin. She sees you with smudged lipstick around your perfect pout and feels her soaked panties clinging to her pussy. She has lipstick smudged on her face too, and it gives her an idea.

“Can you put some more on, baby?” she asks, handing you the lipstick tube. You nod and obey her. She watches intently, running her fingers through your hair as you put on another layer of red lipstick. Once you finish, Nami switches from playing with your hair to gripping it and pulling you towards her bare shoulder.

“wanna leave some other pretty messes on me?” she asks. You don't give a verbal response, instead deciding to attach your mouth to your lover's neck as she lets out a gasp.

Robin - standing up for yourself

Robin's favourite thing to do is observe the always loud, busy environment of the ship and her favourite subject to study is you. She keeps her eye on you as you spend some alone time on the deck, soaking in the sun.

Sanji comes out to talk to you, and your mood plummets. You and Sanji generally got along, but his comments and behaviour had been getting too much to handle recently. You try to let him down nicely, tell him to behave, but when he doesn't - and Nami's not around to smack him - you finally snap.

Robin is intrigued; she's never seen you give anyone this level of attitude. She finds herself excited by the aggressive tone of your voice, which she doesn't get to hear very often. The sharp glare you're giving Sanji as you talk him down is so sexy that Robin almost wishes it was directed at her. Sanji gets himself together and apologises when he realises that he's genuinely upset. You, still angry, just nod and storm off.

Robin follows you into the girls’ room. Nami is busy with Usopp, so the chances of being interrupted are low. When she catches up to you, she checks that you're ok before leaning down to kiss you.

“I like seeing you stand up for yourself. You're so confident. it's so hot”, she says as she pulls you towards her bed. “it makes me want to let you take charge”, she says, and it makes your skin tingle. She's usually more of a service top, but the opportunity to see your aggressive side is too good to pass up. She lies down on the bed, beckoning you to take a seat on her tongue.

“come ride my face.”

Zoro - training together

Zoro reluctantly agreed to train you after you followed him around the Sunny all day, begging him for help. You felt you needed the extra training - and being pinned down by Zoro doesn't sound like a bad use of an evening. He's the only person aboard the ship who doesn't know you like him and you want to use that fact to your advantage sometimes.

You already have the basics of fighting down due to strawhat experience so Zoro suggests going straight to sparring. Zoro is much stronger than you, and he refuses to go easy on someone he has genuine respect for. He knew that he would be pinning you down pretty frequently at first but what he didn't anticipate is how that would make feelings stir inside him that he hadn't felt towards you before.

By the fourth round, you were starting to pick up on Zoro's techniques, and Zoro was feeling relieved about that fact hoping that now he could stop adjusting his hip placement so you wouldn't feel hard cock against you when he pinned you. However, when you do finally get one over on him, you land straddling him with your ass resting just above his bulge.

You freeze above him, and he knows you've felt it. He panics at first, and he accidentally shifts his hips. The friction causes you both to moan slightly. He wants to apologise, but then notices how you're looking at him. You look desperate, like you might cry if he doesn't touch you soon.

“Do you want some help?” you ask, hovering above him. He doesn't know what to say. Are you asking if he needs help getting up or if he needs help with his erection? Zoro breathes out your name and a yes. You grind down against his crotch and bend down to kiss him.

Zoro lifts his hips to help you both and growls against your lips.

“We should go somewhere more private. Anyone could walk in on us here.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thank you for reading! any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated!!! ♡♡

[jan-likes-jam]

Hc's of One Piece Men as dad's / having a pregnant S/O

Reader could be any pov. We support M!preg ♡

List of characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Ace.

Tw: Pregnancy.

Fluff, a bit of angst.

Go check part 2

My first ever post about headcanons, please, if you enjoyed this silly thing, vote. Even comment suggestions ♡.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Monkey D. Luffy:

★ Yes. He knows how children are made.

★ He probably didn't understand at first what it trully meant to become a father though.

★ Responsability striked probably way too late.

★ He realised when he saw you not being able to defend yourself. Probably in danger.

★ After that, he would try to be more careful, when he fights, he asks the crew to take you away or shielding you from any threat.

★ It amused him nonetheless having a child on the way, and asked a lot of questions, even if you yourself didn't know how to answer.

★ He gets really frustrated seeing you in trouble during pregnancy, like cramps, morning sickness, cravings and trouble handling emotions.

★ He is poorly socially aware and an impulsive talker. Probably would accidentally make rude or out of pocket comments that don't suit your delicate situation.

★Wouldn't know how to properly show you support when you felt your mood swings and have self steem issues. Tends to say dumb shit to make you laugh though.

★ "It's okay to be fat, you are eating a lot!" ... "Wait, why are you crying more?!"

★ At the end of the day he is excited to meet his child.

★ Everyone hopes the baby doesn't take after Luffy. One is enough.

★ Doesnt know anything about children. But is willing to try his best and learn.

★ Will give you heart attacks at seeing him holding the baby wrong or playing with it like a toy.

★ Would 100% stretch his arm from the crib to the bed as he placed the baby and now had his hand trapped under it's tiny body, too scared to remove it and wake the poor thing up.

Roronoa Zoro:

★ Couldn't believe it when you announced it to him.

★ Lowkey was affraid at first. Didn't feel preppared for a responsability like that

★ Felt actually bad as he thought how to break the news to you about how he "wasn't ready" when the baby was already on the way.

★ The first time it kicked he was napping. You yelled across the ship for him to come feel it kicking.

★ Since that momment he fell in love with his unborn child.

★ Doesn't like to show how excited he is. Always trying to act nonchalant and tuff before the crew and other people.

★ In private likes to speak to your belly like the baby is a complete functional person.

★ "It's a restless one" you say, an uncomfortable smile on your face as you caress your swollen belly. "Yo, little rascal. You are not even here and you are already causing trouble?"

★ Zoro cracks a smile every single time.

★ When the time for your delivery was coming closer, Robin made him scared saying how living in a ship and the stressful life of a pirate ship could make your water broke at any time.

★ Since then, he can't nap properly, high alert all the time and tense.

★ Once born, the restless nights made him literally his sleep schedule even more chaotic than it already was.

★ You found him once asleep on the Galley, empty baby bottle in one hand, your child in the other cuddled against his chest, both heavily asleep.

★ That image was the cutest thing you've ever seen.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

★ Oh, he passed out.

★ He got so shocked and excited he cried like a baby.

★ After crying his eyes off, he hugged you the strongest he has ever held you.

★ "I love you so much... thank you for giving me this chance. I promise I wont dissapoint."

★ Kisses your forehead good morning and kneels down to kiss your belly, even when the bump was barely noticeable. Every. Single. Day.

★ Tried to stop smoking. He doesn't want to intoxicate the air you're in.

★ Now he only smokes late at night on Sunny's deck, alone with his thoughts.

★ Usually catches himself smilling at the idea of having a gorgeous baby girl, to raise her like a princess (he doesn't mind a boy, he just rlly wants a girl)

★ Cooks you ANYTHING you want, ANYTIME you want.

★ Top listener and comforter.

★ Whenever you are havin self steem issues he knows exactly how to comfort you.

★ "No, no... My dove please don't cry. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on." ... "Don't be rough on yourself, in my eyes you are even more gorgeous than ever." ... "Of course I would still love you, you are carrying now the All Blue of my heart in your womb."

★ Everytime you do something that takes an extra effort (like step on a ladder, carry a lot of bags, or play rough with Luffy), Sanji is already there, softly guiding you to take a seat and lecturing you on not being too rough on your precious body.

★ Held your hand throught the whole delivery, didnt complain a single time.

★ Had the sweetest, most calming aura ever. Helping to ease your stress.

★ He held your guy's baby and silently cried, hoping not to wake up the poor child nor you, as you rested.

Trafalgar Water D. Law:

★ Tbh he has mixed feelings.

★ Even with the baby already delivered he wasn't excited. It was bittersweet. You were fine, that made him feel at ease. But now he had to take care of a new life with you. Each time he thought about it a lump got stucked in his throat.

★ Not like he doesn't love you and the child doesn't make him happy. He is proud of how for you both have come, and the fruits of your labor.

★ He just felt a huge unease at the idea of becoming a father.

★ After all he's been through, and all he's seen, it felt almost like a sin to bring such innocence into a cruel world like this.

★ However, when he steps into his private quarters to see you feeding your guy's child, all the guilt dissapears.

★ He didn't really feel touched during the whole pregnancy, usually occupying himself with work. It wasn't until he actually held that tiny baby, with it's chubby hands held his finger to try and suck it.

★ After a while the baby was there, and everything just... settled down, he couldn't speak about how bad he felt for being so distant during the pregnancy.

★ One day you found him changing a diaper and softly smiling as the baby looked at him with a funny face.

★ "Look what the sea brought in." You teased. A grin on your lips, but your eyes filled with love.

★ Instead of getting annoyed or ignoring he hugged you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

★ "Hope one day you can forgive me..." Is all he said before kissing your temple.

★ He is not a very affectionate dad. But expresses his love the best he can.

★ The crew loves that baby, they play with it every time they can. But pannick the second it cries.

★ Surprisingly clingy to it's papa. Law's calm aura makes the tiny thing get at ease.

Portgass D. Ace:

★ You tried to keep it a secret fro a while. But of course he noticed something was wrong and you had to tell him.

★ You hoped he would comfort you and tell you something like "We'll get through this together."

★ He pannicked with you. Both of you sitting in the Moby dick's bathroom having a shared meltdown.

★ After a while decided to keep it. Tough decision. You guys were still too young.

★ Ace felt guilty. Having the blood of Gol D. Roger, and having a child on the way made him feel like he was repeating the story. But this time, he was going to make it right.

★ Went to talk to Marco about it. Expecting guidance, got his ass whooped instead.

★ Later that day, both of you were getting the biggest lecture about safe sex.

★ Whitebeard wasn't particularly happy, but refused to lecture you and Ace about it.

★ A couple of months later everyone was overjoyed. Ace being the happiest. Throwing celebrations, plans, a baby shower even.

★ He took this opportunity as a life mission to prove himself that, even if his biological father was never there, and probably never even cared about him, perhaps not even his mom, he would be different. Better.

★ Tried to learn his best about babies and parenthood. Even asked all pirates he knew that had children for advice.

★ Everytime he had to leave, he hugged you tightly and kissed you until your lips were tired. He caressed your belly, even pressed his forehead against the bump.

★ Always offering a big smile, he said "Don't bring trouble. I'll be back soon. Stay safe."

★ Sadly, at his excecution whitebeard absolutely forbid you to be any close to Marinefort. You were in no state of stepping into the battlefield.

[chelseeebe]

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[cinnamoonblue]

Chapter II | The Dot

Summary: One reckless night leads to the biggest and most unexpected change in your life. How will this affect your current life and how you and the charming stranger you met only once will manage to handle the bringing of a new life to this world together is a challenge yet to be discovered. Will you be able to make the right choices while battling your own demons? Who knows, all you must be worried about now is that your period is late...

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader

Supporting characters: Marco, Thatch, Whitebeard, Luffy, Sabo, Nico Robin, Boa Hancock, Isuka

Description: Modern AU | Firefighter Baby Daddy!Ace

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, NSFW, 18+ only, contains explicit sexual themes and content, use of alcohol, slow burn, conflicted feelings, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, jealousy, suggestive themes, previous toxic relationships, mention of depression, mention/description of pregnancy, strangers to co-parents to lovers, mentions of a lot of anxiety, mentions of cheating, mentions of mental trauma, social anxiety (+ more warnings will be added if needed to)

Additional tags: Reader is super awkward and has social anxiety and low-self esteem but this changes (I don't want to spoil), Ace is emotional invalid when it comes to love, but this also changes (no spoilers)

WORD COUNT: 8,3K

<- previous chapter | main masterlist | story masterlist | next chapter ->

NOTE: Thank you all for your patience. Thank you also for all the love you showed when I put out chapter one. I know that this chapter is short, but it’s mainly focused of Reader, but next one will be longer. Thank you for reading my stories and being patient with me, more yapping in the end note - enjoy ♡

It has been two days since you found out that you are pregnant and you haven’t told anybody yet. Not even your best friend Boa. You have tried everything in your power in the past two days to ignore everyone and everything in desperate attempts to collect and make up your mind.  

You know what the best solution for this “little” accident is, but you aren’t a hundred percent sure that you want to do this. At least not alone.  

Walking back and forth around your apartment you try to calm yourself down. In an hour you are going for a brunch with Boa and Marguerite, and you are planning to tell them about the little problem you have.  

On top of this mess, you are also in an internal battle with yourself. Should you find your baby daddy? If you are going to abort it, should you let him know? He has the right to know, but… what if he turns out to be pro-lifer? Not like he will stop you from aborting it if you decide to go with this option, but what happens if you find him, tell him and he wants you to keep it? Or worse – what if you decide to keep it and he doesn’t want it? Are you ready for the single mom life? Will you manage as a single mother? 

All these questions have been stuck to your mind on repeat in the past two days and if you don’t speak with someone soon you are going to lose it. That is why you need to share the “exciting” news with your friends and hear their opinion on the matter. They should think more clearly than you are therefore they might give you the answers you are looking for.  

And if they don’t, tomorrow you have your weekly session with your therapist Nico Robin, she must provide the best advice you will need. You hope.  

Dressed up in a pair of dark flare jeans with tight button up white shirt, you put on some jewelleries before taking one last look at yourself before heading to leave your place. Putting on a pair of red kitten high-heels and reaching out for the matching red handbag you lock your place and make your way to the brunch spot Boa has reserved.   

To ease up your very calm nerves, the universe, of course it is on your side, decides to stick you up in the traffic jam. Reaching for your phone you send a quick message to your group chat that you would be late a few minutes and that they should go in without you and you will meet them there.  

Thankfully the parking spots next to the restaurant are free and at least for this your nerves are speared.  

Taking a deep breath in, you stop the car and look yourself up in the rare mirror. “Why?” The question comes out with a sigh, and it is towards yourself and the universe. Why you ended up pregnant after the only night you let yourself be wild and spontaneous in years? This must be some very sick joke life is throwing at you.  

Grabbing your bag, you leave the car and lock it, making your way inside.  

You have been to this place before. It is a well know brunch spot for the upper-class people around the city. The type of place where you pay ridiculous price for an avocado toast and poached eggs, but neither you nor your friends complain about it. After all, you all work hard and make quite a lot of money to effort nice things in life.  

Walking in further into the restaurant where the indoor garden is, you see your friends sitting and chitchatting around one of the nicely put round tables. The place is very cozy and nice, with big windows walls surrounding it, the sun shining outside lighting up the place. This beautiful, picturesque place is surrounded by different types of flowers and marble statues in between the corners, giving it nicer touch.  

Your kitten heels clicking on the marble floor catches your friends' attention as you get close to them, and Marguerite squeaks with excitement once she sees you. She has been oversea for two months now and she has missed you and Boa a lot. Pushing her chair, she gets up on her feet and welcomes you in a strong hug. “I’ve missed you so much.” Her voice comes up muffled as she is rocking you from side to side in her strong grip.  

Marguerite is probably your second-best friend after Boa. She knows about you as much as Boa does, but still Boa has been the one who has been there for you since day one. Marguerite has come around your college years. Her bright uplifting personality has made you and Boa getting her into your inner circle and since then you three have become inseparable.  

Dressed in a leopard halterneck top and long white tailored pants with a black belt around her waist, Maggie, as you two call her for short, is a beautiful tall slender woman with a lighter skin, brown eyes and short cut on bob style blond hair. 

“I’ve missed you, too Maggie.” You tell her pulling away. Before taking your seat around the table, you hug Boa for hello. “I’m sorry, girls. The traffic was awful.” Finally sitting down, you grab the menu in front of you and scanned it with your eyes. Even though you are familiar with it, nothing seems appealing to your stomach.  

The morning sickness has kicked in a week ago, which has been the wakeup call of you finally noticing that you have been late and you have missed your period. The past month you have been so busy with work that when you finally noticed that you are late, you blamed it on stress, and oh boy… how wrong have you been.  

“Don’t worry we waited for you, but we ordered drinks, so you better don’t mind enjoying some nice and cold margaritas.” Maggie shakes her body in a little dance move as a big smile spreads across her face.  

You wish you could enjoy one, but you can’t. Not while being pregnant, but your friends don’t know this… yet. “Oh, I would love to girls, but I’m driving so I won’t be able to.” Technically you are not lying, you are in fact driving after the brunch is done.  

“What? You’re with your car? I thought you took an uber?” Boa raises one of her eyebrows at you. “Why did you come with the car?”  

You need to think fast, because you can’t tell them the real reason of why you have taken your car instead of an uber. It isn’t because you are a fan of driving in your big city and traffic jams, but because after the brunch you have made an appointment with an obstetrician to check on the fetus and exactly how far along are you. But you can’t tell them that, yet.  

Thankfully the waiter comes to serves your drinks, which saves you a bit more time to think of an excuse of why you are with your own car. “Have you ladies decided what would you like to eat?” The waiter politely smiles at you.  

Both Boa and Marguerite tells him their orders and hand back the menus and now it is only you left to order. Scanning the menu one more time you choose the thing that seems the least likely to cause any nauseous or at least if it does you hope it will be just the feeling of it, and you wouldn’t need to run to the toilet to puke.  

“Also, could you please take this away?” You hand him one of the glasses filled up with the alcohol cocktail. “My friends didn’t know that I’m driving, so I must give it back to you. I’ll take water instead.” He just nods with a polite smile and walks away.  

“So… where are you going afterwards?” Boa doesn’t waste any second to shoot her question at you. 

Shrugging with one shoulder, trying to hide your internal panic you clear your voice before answering her. “I have a doctor appointment.”  

“What? Are you okay?” Placing her hand gently on top of yours, Marguerite’s big brown eyes shoot you a worried look.  

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Placing your other hand on top of hers, you give her a gentle squeeze. “It’s just a regular check-up.”  

Again, you are not lying. You are just saving some details, is what you are saying to yourself, easing your guilt a bit. You don’t like lying to your friends and you hope they won’t ask any more questions related to this.  

“Oh, okay. Regular check-ups are important. I just got scared that it’s something serious.” Taking her hand away she puts it on her chest where her heart is and relax, hearing that you are fine and nothing is wrong with you.  

The conversation starts to flow naturally again, with mostly Boa and Marguerite talking about their recent trips and gossips in your life. Your food has come as well, but you barely touch it. Too nervous of what it is coming next, your stomach is on a tight knot.  

How do you tell your friends that you are knocked up? ‘Hey, girls. Sorry for interrupting. By the way, I’m pregnant and also, I have no idea where or how to find the guy who knocked me up, but hey Boa please tell me again about the mind-blowing sex you had with this rich old money boy you met in Paris?’ Yes, this is definitely not how you bring this up.  

This doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends at all. Yes, in the past few years you have gotten quieter than what you used to be, but today something is really bothering you. You barely indulge in the conversations; your food is untouched and all you do is drinking water and looking like you are about to throw up any second now.  

“Okay, missy.” Boa has had enough. Clicking with her fingers in front of your face to get your attention you turn to her. “Speak up.”  

“What?” You look at her with a bit of fear and surprise. “What’s wrong?”  

“Something with you obviously.” Boa chuckles, crossing her arms across her chest, leaning on the back of the chair, her eyes pierced on you.  

Seeing how stiff you get, Marguerite steps in. “Boa.” She shushes her with a deadly glance. “She is obviously not feeling good today.” Looking now at you she gives you a sympathetic smile. “What’s wrong (Y/N)?”  

Your eyes are shifting from side to side between your friends. How do you tell them?  

Taking a deep shaky breath in, you bite the insides of your cheeks before slowly gaining the courage to speak up. “Um… you remember the guy I told you I slept with like a month ago?”  

“The firefighter with the magic dick?” Boa chuckles mocking, referring to the time when you described him and his dick as the most magical thing that has happened to you in years.  

Marguerite hushes Boa one more time, as your best friend has no shame about what comes from her mouth nor where she is when it comes.  

“Yes, that one.” You close your eyes and your whole face squeezes from embarrassment when the memories of what you have done starts playing in the back of your mind. 

“What about him? Did he find you? Oh my, are you two seeing each other?” Maggie excitedly throws questions at you as her whole face lights up.  

“No, nothing like this.” You shake your head, looking down at the plate in front of you to avoid your friends' curious gazes, but the sight of the food is making you nauseous.  

“If she was seeing him, she would have been excited, don’t you think Maggie?” Rolling her eyes at the blonde, Boa then looks back at you. “What about him?”  

The cold harsh tone in her voice is not helping, but you need to get this out of your chest and with your friend’s patience being far away from a big one, you need to do it now. “Well… you girls remember how I told you that recently I’m not feeling good right? It has something to do with that night I spent with him…”  

A loud gasp comes from Marguerite as she covers her mouth with her hands. “No way! Did he give you some disease? Chlamydia? Or worse HIV? Are you going to be okay?” Her eyes are full of terror.  

“I’m honestly not surprised. I’ve told you that he didn’t give me the look of a decent man.” Boa comments with a knowing and a bit judging click of her tongue.  

“You never said that.” Turning your head at her, you give your friend an angry look, the tone of your voice sharp and harsh, matching hers. “And he was very decent, Boa. Even for only a one-night stand, he has treated me way better than most of the men in my life ever did.” This is enough of a painful realisation for you and last thing you need is your best friend judging you.  

Silence takes over your table. None of you saying anything before you finally spilled it out. “I’m pregnant.” The words come out so quietly that none of your friends manage to hear it nor processed it.  

“Say that again?” Boa leans closer and so does Maggie.  

“I said that I’m pregnant…” You say once again with trembling voice.  

Both of your friends are in shock and frozen on their seats. This is the last things they have been expecting to hear from you. You don’t dare to look at any of them. You are fully aware of the judgment they might have written all over their face or worse – they are pitying you, and you want none of it.  

Marguerite is the first one to break the silence this time. “Do you plan to keep it?” Her voice is gentle, zero judgment can be heard in it, but there is quite lot of empathy in it.  

Before you can even take a breath to answer, Boa jumps in quickly. “Of course, not. She must be mad crazy if she decides to keep the little parasite.”  

Boa has never been a fan of children. She has made the choice that she wants to be child free from a very young age and made sure this would never happen to her. Your friend view kids as nothing more but little demons who are running and destroying the peace of the adults around. You will never catch her in a place where children are allowed. This is how much she cannot stand them.  

“Boa, I didn’t ask you and don’t call it a parasite, because it’s not.” Marguerite scolds her across the table. She has always been a gentle soul and a big empath, and having her here right now is one of the biggest blessings in life you can get.  

Reaching out with her arm, she places it on your shoulder, which gives you a bit of a strength to speak up. “I’m… I’m not entirely sure.”  

“The fuck you mean you’re not entirely sure?” Boa raises her sharp dark brows up as she places her hands loudly enough on the table, causing the people sitting at the tables close to you throwing some glances at your direction. “What you want to keep some random man sperm and grow it? You want to be a single mother? Is this what you’re not entirely sure about?”  

“Boa, watch your tone and language.” Maggie hisses at her with anger.  

“I’m not watching shit.” Boa spats back. “If she is actually crazy enough and not go for an abortion, I’ll not stand by and watch her waste her life and potential away.” She says, finger pointing at you.  

“How is being a mother a waste of life, when in fact they are the ones bringing one?” The blonde sitting opposite of her argues. “And for God’s sake, let her speak.” Maggie then turns her attention to you. “Don’t listen to her. Tell us what you plan to do and we-” She gives Boa one more deadly look. “We will listen and be there for you, no matter what your decision is.”  

A makeshift of a laughter comes from Boa, but she decides to not say anything as she needs to calm down and hear you first. Maybe you may come back to your senses.  

“Thank you, Maggie.” You nod and give her a small tight-lipped smile. “I’m not sure if I want to keep it or not, but I know that the most logical thing to do in this situation is to abort it, so I’m planning to go with it.” Glancing at Boa, you can still feel the judgement written on her face. “That is why I have an appointment with an obstetrician today. She will run some test, see how far along I am, and if my calculations are correct, I must be around five weeks pregnant. From there I must decide what to do next, which I think I’ve already had my mind set on.”  

“Look whatever you’ll decide, we got your back.” Maggie takes your hand in hers and gives it a squeeze.  

Glancing at Boa once again, all she does is a slight nod. Hearing that you plan to get rid of it, gives her some hope that you are not crazy enough to actually keep it.  

A small smile appears on your face. “Thank you.” You quietly tell them.  

Taking her hand away from yours, Marguerite uncomfortably shifts her body on the chair, not knowing what the best way is to word her next question, but she must ask. Saying your name softly to get your attention she sighs. “What about the guy?”  

You know what Maggie means by that. You have been asking yourself the same question.  

“What about him? He doesn’t need to know shit nor if he does, he has any saying in what she will do. Her body her choice.” Boa jumps in again.  

“Of course, Boa. I agree with you that it’s her body and her choice, but he has the right to know.” Maggie tries to explain, aware that Boa will not agree with her.  

“Well, none of this would have happened if he knew how to pull out in the first place.” Boa chuckles with a roll of her eyes.  

As much as Marguerite doesn’t like how Boa words her comment, she does say something that catches her attention. “Ignoring how bitchy Boa is today-” This remark makes Boa gasps, but your friend ignores her. “Didn’t you say, you two used a condom? I know that they are not a hundred percent safe, but still. Do you think he has also realised that it broke mid act or…?”  

Shaking your head, you shrug. “I’m not sure nor will I know.”  

“I understand.” Marguerite gives you a small understanding smile. “But still, do you plan to find and tell him?”  

“I thought about it, and I know I should, but I’m also afraid.” Reaching with your hand you grab the glass of water in front of you and take a sip of it. “I’m also not sure how to find him. I have a vague memory his name, but if I do see him, I will immediately recognise him, but that is all.”  

“Boa, do you know by any chance in which fire station these guys worked at?” Marguerite doubts that Boa will remember but it is worth the shot.  

Shaking her head, Boa sighs. “I didn’t even bother to ask because I would have never guessed that we would need it.”  

“What if you go around and ask for him? He will be working in one of them.” Maggie awkwardly shrugs.  

“Even if I do this, they will not give me a personal information like this one so easily if the reason is not good enough.” Leaning on the back of the chair you lift your hands in the air as frustration towards yourself and the guy starts to build. “On top of it, do you know that there are a hundred and six fire stations in the city? Hundred and six! When I looked it up, I thought to myself – ‘Well, they shouldn’t be more than what thirty?’. But no, of course not, there must be hundred and six.”  

None of your friends say anything as they can see how stressful this whole situation is for you.  

“Maggie, do you have any friends that work as firefighters or know some who does?” Boa, for a first time since she has heard the news, asks calmly.  

“No, I don’t think so.” The blonde woman responds. “I’m trying to think of someone, but no one comes up in my mind.”  

With a nod, Boa turns to you and takes your hand in hers. “Hey.” She says more encouraging. “We’ll find him, even if we must go to all hundred and six fire stations, he won’t be impossible to find.” 

Looking at her, a smile is placed across her beautiful face. A smile that says – ‘Don’t worry we got your back.’, which makes you relax, because despite what the mess is you are into, your friends always got your back.  

Keeping your head low as you walk in into the clinic makes you even more nauseous, but thankfully you still haven’t had the need to throw up. Making your way to the information desk, you wait on the queue as there are two people in front of you.  

You have turned down Boa and Maggie’s suggestion to come with you. This is something you want to do by yourself. Something about this first visit feels extremely personal for you, and you want to keep it that way – you, the doctor and … your baby.  

Your baby – it sounds so strange. Since you have found out about its existence, you even avoid thinking of it as a baby let alone call it one. You are not one of those who believes that this is a human yet, but now standing here in front of the clinic reception the reality of it is slowly settling in you.  

Something has started to grow in you. Something you have always wanted, but not under these circumstances. Despite how wild you used to be, how career oriented you are, you have always wanted to have your own family, but you wanted to do it the right way; you meet the love of your life, you then become a couple for a few years, get engaged, get married, have your honeymoon and then you make the baby. Not make the baby and then the other things to follow, or worse - they never following.  

Lost in your thoughts you haven’t released that you are standing in the middle of the information desk with eyes fixed on the floor and head hanged low, until the woman behind the desk calls for your attention. “Miss, is everything okay?”  

Snapping out of your thoughts, you shake your head to come to your senses and take a step closer to the desk. “Yes, I’m sorry.” You murmured, your voice trembling from all the stress. “Hello, I have an appointment with Doctor Belladonna.”  

With a short nod of her head, the woman at the desk asks for your name and personal number and you quickly pull out your id card, not wanting to speak up as you can’t find your voice. She takes the id card from you and types in all the information she needs. Giving it back to you she tells you where to go and wait for the nurse there to call you.  

Walking to the elevator you press the button to the third floor. The doors close and after just a few seconds open again. Stepping out of the elevator you take a left turn and start walking down the hallway. The walls are painted in a light green colour; chairs are placed next to each door of every doctor's room and there are a few people sitting around and waiting for their appointments.  

You find where Doctor Belladonna room is, and you take a seat in one of the empty chairs. There is one woman before you with a small but prominent pregnancy belly showing and a little boy, who seems no older than four years old, who she tries to make stay still, so it must be her son. The little boy obviously doesn’t want to sit around and wait for his mother, but he has no choice.  

Your leg is bouncing on the ground as your stress level is starting to grow with every passing seconds. Maybe you should have let Boa and Maggie come with you.  

A little pocking on your hand makes you look to the side, and you see the little boy looking at you with curiosity. “Why is your leg shaking so much?” Kids. They have no sense of privacy therefore being honest and straightforward is one of their many charms.  

His mother gasps and apologise to you as she scolds the boy, but he protests. “But mommy, her leg is super shaky. Maybe she is cold.” This melts your heart. Kids are so pure, they have no idea what stress or worry are, so of course this boy pure little heart thinks that you are just cold.  

The mother looks at you with apologetic look. “I’m so sorry.” She tells you, but you give her a small smile and wave with your hand.  

“It’s fine. He doesn’t bother me at all.” Looking at the boy you smile at him.  

“Are you cold?” He asks once again.  

Shaking your head you give him a bigger smile. “No, I’m not. But thank you for checking on me.”  

“Then why is your leg shaking?” His voice full of curiosity as he points with his little finger at your bouncy leg.  

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him.  

“Why?” You can’t help but giggle at his adorable face. Kids are always full of questions.  

“Because I’ve never been to such doctor before and I’m a little afraid, that’s why my leg is bouncing so much.” You explain to him, and his face immediately lights up.  

“Oh, I understand now.” He claps with his hands. “It’s like when I go to the bad doctor, the one with the big needles and every time before mommy and daddy drive me there my tummy hurts, and I want to poop.” Seeing him and the way he shakes his little head and grabbing his stomach from the memory of the ‘bad’ doctor a soft light laughter escapes your lips. “Are you also having a baby in your tummy like my mommy?” His big Bambi-like eyes fill with excitement as he gently places his hand on your stomach, making your heart skips a beat.  

Seeing what her child has done and where his little hand is placed, his mother pulls him away. “Michael, what have I told you about touching people without permission?”  

“That it’s bad and I should always ask.” The little boy voice fills with guilt. “I’m sorry for touching your belly without permission.” He tells you; a sad pout placed on his adorable little face.  

“It’s alright, Michael. That is your name, right?” The small boy nods eagerly. Giving him your hand for a shake, he takes it, and you tell him yours.  

He repeats your name and shoots another question. “Do you have more babies?”  

You shake your head. “No, just this one.” With a smile you run your hand gently over the bottom of your stomach but freezes the moment you realise what you are doing. Since you have found out that you are pregnant you never smile at the thought of it, nor run your hands over your stomach so lovingly.  

“I was my mommy’s first baby, and now we are going to have a second baby. I hope he is a boy because I want a brother. What is your baby?” The little boy next to you eagerly asks, his face blooming with excitement.  

Still shocked by what you have done, you swallow hard before answering the little kid next to you. “I don’t know.” You really don’t know. Does it even matter? Boy or a girl, you will probably never know. This pregnancy won’t be it anyway. As your best friend has said – you must be mad crazy if you decide to keep it.  

The door of Doctor Belladonna’s room opens and a young short woman step from it, dressed in a light blue nurse uniform. She tells the woman sitting next to you that she will be let in in about two minutes and then she turns to you. “(Y/N), right?” You just nod to her question. “Perfect. I need you to come with me to run some blood test that should be done by the time you meet with Doctor Belladonna, so please may you follow me so we can get them done.”  

Getting up from the chair you follow behind her, but not before telling the little boy and his mother goodbye, as you are not sure if they will be here once you come back.  

The nurse is very gentle with you. You don’t feel any pain or discomfort as she runs the test. She also takes your measurements and weight as she needs to fill quite lot of information about you and your medical record to make Doctor Belladonna works faster and easier.  

“Okay, we are done here. You can go back and when your time comes, I’ll call for you.” She smiles at you and then disappears, leaving you alone. 

Making your way back you bump into someone you wish you would have. Kalifa. An old classmate of you and Boa, which you two could not stand. She has always been a mean girl, especially towards you. Why of all places you happen to meet her here?  

“Wow, (Y/N). What a strange coincidence. What are you doing here?” She runs her eyes up and down your body, scanning it for any flaws.  

“Kalifa.” You fake a smile. “Yes, what a coincidence. What are yo-” Finally looking her up and down, your eyes land on the ultrasound pics she is holding in her hands. Well, guess you aren’t the only one knocked up. By the looks of it she is still quite early, as the belly is not visible at all and her body is still toned up and nice. “Congratulations.” You nod at her, now more politely.  

“Thank you.” She says with a cocky smile as she tosses her long blond hair to the side. “It’s so hard being in the fifth month you know.”  

Your eyes widen and you blink in disbelief. Fifth month? And she is as skinny and toned as she has always been? God does have favourite after all.  

“What about you?” She raises one of her thin eyebrows up. Next thing she does is mentioning your ex’s name and your blood runs cold. “Didn’t know you two are still together, I swear I heard you two broke up. Guess, babies do fix some relationships.”  

“We’re not together.” You harshly reply. “Nor am I pregnant. I’m here with a friend of mine. She should be out soon.” Kalifa is one if the last people you will let making fun of you, especially after all the things you have been through.  

“Whatever. My husband is waiting for me.” Raising her hand up, she shows you a big diamond rock placed on her index finger with a beautiful weeding band under it. “What can I say, some of us are lucky, aren’t we?” She gives you one last mocking smile, and walks pass you, her high heels clicking on the floor.  

Frozen in the middle of the hallway the doctor’s door open and the nurse from earlier calls out your name. “You can come in.” She says and gets back inside.  

Swallowing hard you just nod. Seeing Kalifa might be for good. A reminder that you don’t want this. A reminder that things should be happening a certain way. In a way that you have always wanted it.  

Stepping into the doctor’s room, she meets you with a warm smile. Doctor Belladonna is said to be one of the best obstetricians in the city, known for taken an exceptional care of her patients and aways deliver healthy babies. You won’t be needing her for that long, but you still want to be taken care of in the best way possible.  

She stands up to meet and greet you, as she stretches her hand for you in a handshake. She is a bit taller than you, dark haired and with quite sharp and prominent cheekbones. Big round and pink glasses are placed on top of her head.  

“Please take a seat.” She says and gestures with her hand towards the bed attached to ultrasound machine. You nod and take a seat at the edge of it.  

Looking around the room while she looks at your test results, your anxiety is starting to peek up. There are many posters of pregnant women or mothers with big smiles holding their babies, which only makes the situation for you worse.  

Your leg starts once again to bounce, and you grab a strand of your hair in attempt to distract yourself.  

Taking a seat on the small chair with wheels attached on the bottom of it, Doctor Belladonna moves closer to you as she crosses one leg over the other and looks at you with a smile still placed on her face. Her eyes shift between you and then the papers with the results in her hands she finally speaks up.  

“Well, (Y/N), one thing I can confirm is that you are pregnant.”  

This much you know. After all, three pregnancy tests with two lines could mean nothing else but a baby, right? A small part of you wished it wasn’t the case, that they were all wrong, but they weren’t. Everything is correct. You are pregnant.  

“By the looks of the blood test, you are healthy, but we still going to check you up with the ultrasound to see if everything with the little one is as well.” She gets up from the chair and turns around to prepare whatever she needs from the machine. “If you may unbutton your pants and lay down.”  

Letting go of your hair, with shaking hands you unbutton the top of your pants and slightly roll them down.  

With her peripheral vision, doctor Belladonna notices your nervousness. She turns around and comes closer to you as she holds a bottle in her hand. “Are you comfortable?” All you do is nod. “Okay. Now relax. Ultrasound is harmless, neither you nor the embryo will fill anything.” She explains as she puts on some gloves and takes the bottle she has been holding and opening it. Squeezing it gently a transparent liquid comes from it. “You might feel a little bit of a chill from the gel, but it will pass in a few seconds.”  

She applies the gel on the bottom of your belly and gently spread it around before turning on the ultrasound and runs it where the gel is. As much as you want to avoid looking at it, you can’t help it, and your eyes are glued to the screen.  

A contented hum comes from the doctor, and she points with her finger at the screen. “You see, there is the embryo.” She looks back at you and smile.  

It is barely visible. It is just a tiny little dot on the dark screen, barely the size of a lentil, but you spot it.  

Doctor Belladonna is talking to you, but you are not really listening. You are lost in your thoughts and not present at all in the room.  

This whole thing terrifies you. The more the doctor next to you talks the more the reality of it all hits you. Your heart is beating fast, and your mouth runs dry. A bit of cold sweat runs down your forehead.  

Eyes still fixed on the screen in front of your face; you can’t move your eyes from the screen and the little dot on it.  

“I can hear a bit of a cardiac pulse.” Doctor Belladonna announces. “Do you hear it as well?”  

Slowly moving your eyes from the screen, you look at the doctor for just a second and then back. Swallowing hard you ask her. “Wait, it has a heart already?”  

A light laughter comes from the woman next to you. “No, it’s a bit too early for the embryo to have a heart, but it’s developing. If you focus and listen you will hear a slight cardiac pulse, which means you’re already six weeks pregnant.” She calmly explains. “Now listen.” 

It is a strange feeling to explain what you felt the moment you hear the sound of the pulse coming from the little dot on the screen. Part of you can listen to it for hours, another part screams at you to come to your senses. This isn’t right. You are not supposed to love or fall for this.  

Pulling the ultrasound away, Doctor Belladonna gives you a few napkins to wipe out the gel from your belly. Once you get all of it away, you button up your jeans and sit up on the bed.  

“There you go.” Doctor Belladonna says as he hands you a picture of the ultrasound. With trembling fingers, you take it and look at it.  

The little dot is there. Barely visible, but the doctor has marked it so you can spot it easier. In the corner of the ultrasound picture is written the date of today, how big the dot is and which week it is.  

Doctor Belladonna can’t ignore your shaken presence anymore and she calls out your name until she gets your attention. “I can’t pretend that I don’t see how shaken and stressed you are.” Her dark brown eyes are full of sympathy. “As a doctor and part of your first exam, I must ask you if you are with an abusive partner or one who might cause you trouble during the pregnancy?”  

Shaking your head you inhale deeply. “No, nothing like this.” It is worse than this, but how you tell someone you just have met that you got knocked up by a stranger whom you have no idea if you will be able to find. “I’m just not sure if I want to keep it. That’s all.”  

Doctor Belladonna nods understandingly. “It’s entirely your choice. If we proceed with abortion, I just advise you to do it as soon as possible due the fact that you’re six weeks pregnant, for your safety I recommend you doing it by latest week nine.”  

Looking at her, you bite the insides of your cheeks. “Do you perform the procedure yourself?”  

“Yes, I do.” She softly smiles. 

Hearing that you are considering ending your pregnancy, Doctor Belladonna explains to you how the procedure goes and why she has advised you to do it by week nine so it can be medically done and not by a surgery. She informs you about the aftermath of the procedure and how long it will take for you to recover.  

Despite all this she proscribes you some pills and vitamins you should take until you make up your mind, in case you want to keep it. You two also agree to speak a week, when you will have a clear answer about what decision you have taken.   

By the time your appointment with her is done, you feel a bit calmer. It is nice to know that it is all up to you whenever or not you will keep the Dot or not. You have made your mind that for now on you will be calling it – the Dot. Calling it a baby feels too scary and calling it an embryo just doesn’t sits right with you. Giving it its small size Dot feels like the perfect name to refer to it.  

Your therapist is quite surprised by the news she hears. Of all the things she has expected to hear today from you, given your tired face, eyes filled with worry and body language screaming anxiety, the last thing she has thought of is the news that you are pregnant.  

“When did you find out?” Nico Robin asks.  

“Three or four days ago. Something like this.” You shrug, wrapping your arms around you, trying to protect yourself from the world around you.  

“Have you checked with a doctor?”  

You nod. “I’m six weeks pregnant.”  

“I assume it’s from the guy you slept with not long ago?” You nod again to her question. “Do you plan to keep it?”  

That is when you cannot hold it anymore and the tears you have been holding for so long starts pouring down your face like a waterfall. “I don’t know.” You say in between sobs. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should get rid of it, because-” Chocking on a sob you press the palms of your hands to your forehead, the tips of your fingers pulling the roots of your hair. “I-I know t-that this is the r-right choice and thing to do-” Another sob tears apart from your chest. “B-but… I-I’m not sure I-I want this.”  

Seeing your current state, Nico Robin puts aside her diary and gets up from her comfortable chair. She sits down next to you on the sofa and wraps her arms around your figure. “It’s fine to feel this way.” She softly says, running her hands up and down your back, trying to calm you dawn a bit. “I can’t imagine how scared you are right now, but I can promise you that your fears and reaction are valid and normal, and I’m proud of you, and how you have managed to handle all of it until now.” She pulls away from you and takes your hands in hers. “Please, focus on me right now and take deep breaths.”  

Robin starts to count from one to ten and lets you know when to inhale and exhale. You are not sure how long you have been doing it, but soon your heartbeat returns to normal, and your tears start to dry.  

“When you feel ready to speak, I’m here and I’m listening.” She gives you some space as she sits back on her chair and patiently waits for you.  

“I don’t know how to find him.” Is all you say.  

“Don’t you remember where he lives?” Robin knows all about your night spent with the nice and charming firefighter you met. She knows how you ran away in the morning and never bothered to get any of his contacts.  

“I don’t.” Looking down at your hands, you grab a strand of your hair and start twisting your fingers around the edge of it. “I ran away and stopped running after four or more streets. I don’t even remember from which street I took the taxi home.”  

The more you remember from that morning the more ashamed and embarrassed you feel. How could you be so stupid that you didn’t even bother to look around where you were? Given the fact how bit the city is, you will probably spend at least two weeks passing by every street for a chance to meet him.  

“I was considering going to every fire station, but they are hundred and six!” You throw your hands in the air in disbelief. “Hundred and six fire stations? Can you believe it? I mean, are there that many fire accidents that happen in this city to need hundred and six fire stations?”  

Running your hand through your hair, you shake your head and sigh. “To be honest, I don’t know if I should tell him.” Looking down, you place your hand on your stomach. “Especially if I decide to end the pregnancy.”  

You can’t help but think of the sound of the pulse of your little Dot. Its little heart is not even developed yet but knowing that soon it will be not just a pulse, but a real heart, makes you want to cry.  

“If you were me…” Your voice is a bit raw and quiet. “Would you have found and tell him?” Glancing with teary eyes at your therapist, you hope she will have the answers you are looking for.  

A deep sigh escapes her chest. She doesn’t know what to tell you, because at the end you are the one who should make the choice. Morally speaking – the right thing to do is to find the guy and let him know that he might be a father, whenever you decide to keep the baby or not. If you have been a hundred percent sure that you will get rid of it, she does not see it as a very bad thing if you never find and tell him, but that is where one of the biggest problem lays in this situation - that you don’t know what you want.  

“Please, Robin.” You and she have been on a first name basis for a long time now. “I beg you, answer me as yourself, not as my therapist.”  

It is easier said than done what you are asking of her. Nodding, Nico Robin takes a deep breath. “I would find and tell him, if I want to keep it and if I am doubting it. I would only not tell him if I was a hundred percent sure that I don’t want the baby.”  

You listen to her and think for a bit. She has a point. But telling him might be risky. “What if I tell him and he doesn’t want me to abort it? Or worse I decide to keep it, and he doesn’t want to even acknowledge it? What if I fail at being a single mother?”  

All the questions and fears you have are valid. Crossing one leg over the other, Robin adjusts the frames of her tin glasses before answering some of your worries. “First of all, no one can say anything regardless your choices especially when it comes to your body and mental health.” The tone of her voice is serious, making sure you understand that no one can make you do something you don’t want to do. “Regarding your worries if he doesn’t want to acknowledge the child and leave you as a single mother, I’m confident enough to say that I think you will be an amazing mother with or without a man next to you. There are many mothers out there that have raised their children alone and they have done it perfectly, so there is no doubt that you can do it, too.”  

You cannot believe that someone like your therapist, Nico Robin, see so much potential in someone like you. “You really think that if I have to raise a child of my own, I will manage it?”  

A gentle smile spread across her beautiful face. “I’m positive that you will.” 

Nodding slowly, you swallow hard. “I know this might sound strange, but do you have any friend working in a fire station department to help me find him?”  

Taking her glasses off, Robin slightly tilts her head up a bit, thinking if she might have any friends or acquaintances working in the fire department of the city. Humming she slowly nods her head. “I think I might have a friend who might help. His name is Franky, he owns a mechanic shop, and if I remember correctly, he made some deal with some of the fire stations in the city to do monthly check-ups on their trucks.” Looking at you, she sees a bit of hope sparkling in your eyes. “Do you remember his name at least?”  

Pressing the pads of your finger on your temple, you try your best to remember his name. It is short and it is not very common, but you have heard it before on other guys as well. “It was something with A…” Getting some of the memories from the night you met the charming man, you try your best to remember. Your eyes shoot open when the memory of you two playing poker pops out. “Ace. His name is Ace.”  

“Are you a hundred percent sure that this is his name?” Robin raises one of her eyebrows at you.  

Nodding eagerly, a big smile grows on your face. “Yes, I’m sure. Because we played poker together and every time, I had an Ace of Space I would make fun of him.”  

“Okay. That is nice that at least we have his name. If you could also remember what he looks like I can tell Franky, and he can ask around for him.”  

You describe the guy and Robin writes it down. She makes the phone call while you are still there and lucky you, she has remembered correctly that her friend has been involved with some of the fire stations in town. Robin is professional enough to not say why she is asking for such a favour of her friend, but he promises her that he will ask around and let her now.  

Now all you must do is wait and see if you will be lucky enough to find your baby daddy this easily.   

END NOTE: I hope you liked this chapter and plan to stick for more. I have so much fun writing this story and I can’t wait to put out more of it for you to read ♡ I know that this was only Reader focused, but in the next chapter you are getting quite lot of Ace so be patient ♡ Also I want to say - I’m all about women making their own choices with their bodies!!! I am a big women rights supporter and having the choice to keep the baby or not for me is entirely up to the woman carrying the baby!!! All feedback is welcomed by me ♡ I appreciate every like, comment, reblog and message from you ♡ Thank you ♡

Taglist - OPEN: @orange-milky @igoontoonepiece @m1kkso @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @aceismyloveforever @firelilyofthevalley @ye-old-hermit-woman @fulltravelerdreamland @ffinosie @sungiebby @mrstraffy @ren-ni @acidblack @certain-tragedies @pmgranate @praline357 @stuckinthewrongworld @hlkenoace @kattywhomper @gojossixtheyes @starsandshht @cruziival72 @choso-ver @lilink @acesluvrxx @no-regrets-just-confusion @purplefluffycows @magicalmatcha

Comment down below if you want to be tagged when a new chapter is up ♡

writing, format, header & dividers © cinnamoonblue fanart by @usa_rinko_ on Twitter/X ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[envyi5envious]

RESEARCH.. JUST RESEARCH.

࿐ — 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂 : YANDERE (Red Robin) Tim Drake x GN Reader. 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 : He was scribbling in a notebook, and you wondered what he was writing. 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏 : 1.7k. 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 : Dark. Obsessive tendencies and stalking. 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 : English isn’t my first language. I don't know why this took so long. Enjoy ♡

Class had just begun, and the familiar sound of shuffling papers and low murmurs filled the air. You had recently been transferred to AP Computer Science by your mother’s request. The teacher was discussing data analysis. They turned to the whiteboard, where they had written several bullet points. “First, we need to understand data collection.”

“This is where we gather information from various sources. It’s essential to choose reliable methods. Can anyone provide an example?” A young man raised his hand, mainly focused on the notebook on his desk.

“Yes, Drake.” The teacher replied as they leaned their backside against their desk. “We could use sensors or databases.”, “Correct. Well done.” After a few minutes, you tuned out the sound of their voice. Mainly focused on taking down the notes written on the board. Your ears perked up at the mention of an assignment. The teacher’s gaze swept across the room, lingering on a few students. “Next week, you’ll begin to work on a project analyzing a dataset of your choice. You will be required to pick your own partners this week so you have the weekend to prepare.”

The students responded with a few quiet hums and the teacher ended the class like that. The room was mainly silent besides the few people speaking to ask other students to be their partners. Assuming since you were new you wouldn’t get picked, you stood up to talk to one of your random classmates only to be met by a chest slamming into your nose.

“Shit-”

You heard a familiar voice say, their hands reaching out to secure you before you fell. “Are you alright?” They asked. Once your vision cleared, you realized why it was familiar. It was the same guy that answered the teacher. “Drake?” Your mutter came out before you could stop it, he let out a dry chuckle. “Tim, actually. Drake’s my family name.” He corrected. “Sorry about that. I was just coming to ask you if you wanted to be partners since I noticed you were new.” What a coincidence, you were about to do the same thing. “Oh, well I’m lucky then. We can meet at the Gotham library later, like 5PM-ish?” You weren’t sure if he’d be okay with giving his number off to a complete stranger.

He hummed for a second, thinking if he was busy around that time. Then he nodded his head as confirmation. “It’s a date. Talk to you later, (L/N).” He said before leaving the class, phone in his hands as he typed away like crazy. You could literally hear the sound of his thumbs touching the screen from that far away. Sighing, you sat back into your desk. You decide to try finishing your homework early today so you could focus on planning for the project. You even texted your mom not to pick you up since you would be meeting with Tim later. When you were done, you stood up to go for a walk to the cafeteria. Maybe you could get some coffee to stay awake. All AP classes were no joke, you were a little annoyed at your mom for forcing you to go to them so suddenly. While you were smart, you weren’t exactly a fan of school. You just did what you had to do to pass and that’s all. So when you found out you would have to be learning more because of your ‘potential’ you got rightfully pissed. It didn’t matter though. Once you were in AP, you can’t get out of it unless your parents signed for it (which your mother clearly isn’t budging on) or you flunk. And you weren’t about to fail Senior year just to get out of harder classes. Once you reached it, the room was mainly empty as most people went home. But the worker was still there until school closing time. There were groups still there, most likely waiting for their rides. You decided to order a croissant with ice coffee, making your way to an empty table to eat. You pulled out one of your notebooks to get to planning ideas.

—

The Sun had already set in Gotham due to the amount of buildings surrounding the city causing the car Tim was in to be fully dark, the only source of light was that of the laptop on his lap. The image broadcasted was that of the cafeteria’s cameras directed at you. You were writing notes with one hand and eating a pastry with the other. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He had one of his notebooks beside him, taking notes when he noticed any quirks of yours. Like how you would subconsciously bite your nails or pick at your skin when you were stressed and the food you ordered. Then he took a look at what you were writing. At first he thought you were still working on ideas for the project. But as he kept reading, he realized that it seemed to be more of a fantasy novel. “Hm.. If I can just.. There we go.” He mutters to himself as he managed to zoom close enough to the book’s cover to see that it was a novel. ‘The Whispers of the Assassin.’ Quite the title. He searches the book online to have it delivered to the manor as soon as possible. “The Whispers of the Assassin follows Elara, a skilled assassin haunted by her past. Tasked with eliminating a crime lord responsible for her family's down.. Okay, I’ll read it later.” Tim thought to himself that he could suggest using this novel as a dataset, might help you be more interested to work with him on the project.

He’ll decide once he reads the book himself, for now, it’s best not to bring it up. When he realized the time was close to 5PM, Tim moved to the driver’s seat of his car to reach the library before you did. He would be a cover story that he was there the whole time.

—

When you finally reached the library, you found Tim scribbling notes in the same notebook he was using during class.When he heard your footsteps, he closed the book before you could get too close. Placing it back into his bag, he pulled out a tablet. “Hey.” He gave you a small smile. “Hey back.” You sat on the other side of the table, pulling out your own notes. “I wrote a few ideas on what we could use as a dataset and the methods. You can tell me which ones you find interesting.” You slid the papers to him, letting him read everything. “Hmm.. Good. The ideas, I mean. Here, we could use a novel. What novels do you like?”

“Well, I was reading a novel recently about a book called ‘The Whispers of the Assassin.’ It’s really good, you should read it. But I thought maybe we could use that.” Great minds think alike. You saw him typing away at his comically large tablet, he skimmed through the summary. He didn’t answer right away, almost like he was absorbed in the story.

But eventually he directed his face back to you. “Interesting. I’ll buy it later.” He tapped his index finger, eyes slightly unfocused. Before he stopped abruptly. “Since we’re basically done planning, there’s not much to do here.” He chuckles, turning to face his attention to one of the windows. “What do you like about the book?” His gaze wasn’t on you but he was still talking to you. “Well.. I like the main character, Elara. She’s a total badass. Her family died because of this mob boss and she goes after him to avenge her family. She honestly reminds me of Batman.” You could see him try to stop himself from cracking a smile from that. “Yeah, now I have to read it. I’ve had an obsession with Batman since I was a kid.” That explains the huge bat logo on his shirt. “Oh, so you’re a superhero nerd?” He nodded his head, smiling.

“Oh, shit. I completely forgot to tell you my name. It’s (Y/N).” You instinctively reached your hand out for him to shake and he surprisingly shook it as soon as you held it out. “That’s a pretty name.” He mused on it for a second before freeing your hand from his grip. “What else do you like to do?” The single sentence led to a conversation for a few hours before you left for your respective homes.

—

“Young master Tim, a delivery has arrived in your name.” Alfred’s voice could be heard through the door as he insisted on repeatedly knocking till Tim answered. “Thank you, Alfred.” He was about to close the door but the older man blocked the way with the tip of his foot. “I’m sorry to be a bother but Master Bruce has been concerned with your amount of screen time.”

Tim sighed slightly, he couldn’t help but be annoyed at the fact that they were taking time out of his busy schedule just to worry over nothing. “I can guarantee you both that I am fine. Just been busy with projects. AP classes are kind of kicking my ass right now. Thanks again.” He took the package from him without another word, pushing the man’s foot with his own. He quickly closed the door before he could be berated with even more of their concerns.

His room was clean but definitely not organized. Wires and computers were everywhere, books filled to the brim with the most minute of details about you. He made his way back to his bed, closing his laptop and pulling out his phone and earphones. He put the small buds in his ears, playing ‘8 HOURS OF BROWN NOISE’ as he began reading the novel. Four hours later, he had already finished it. Though, he had trained his mind to be able to handle large amounts of information in short periods. While the book most definitely had its flaws, it wasn’t bad. Now, just to finish the project so he can spend more time with you.

☆ 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩. ©◞✶ envyi5envious

[dayasfilms]

Chapter Four - Fake Identities

Summary: You suddenly realize that you may or may not be Vecna’s next victim. However, you decide to focus on saving Max instead, joining Nancy and Robin on a trip to speak with Victor Creel in hopes of finding answers.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Y/N, mentions of gore, fire, blood, murder, dead animals, demons

Word Count: 4.5k

Note: We have finally gotten to the part where reader starts opening up about her past. Now, I want to hear your theories about reader before she reveals the truth in the next chapter.

Series Masterlist

ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡

You, Nancy, and Robin burst through the school’s doors, racing down the hall to Ms. Kelley’s office. Inside, you immediately noticed the concerned look on Max’s face as Steve and Dustin turned to see the three of you enter. Max gestured for you to follow her, leading the group down an empty corridor toward the far end.

“It was here,” Max said, holding a flashlight at the hallway’s end. “Right here.”

“A grandfather clock?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“It felt so real.” Max took a deep breath. “And then, when I got closer…suddenly I just…I woke up.”

You crossed your arms, trying to make sense of what she was describing. Concern prickled at your chest.

“It was like she was in a trance or something,” Dustin added. “Exactly like what Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”

Max turned away, shaking her head. You could see the fear on her face.

“That’s not even the worst part,” she continued. You all went back to Ms. Kelley’s office, and Max picked up the files she’d been reading. “Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelley for help.”

Robin took the files and began flipping through them, you and Nancy scanning over her shoulder.

Max’s next words made your chest tighten.

“They were both having headaches. Bad ones. Ones that wouldn’t go away.”

You ran a trembling hand through your damp hair, wincing as a pounding headache throbbed behind your eyes. Groaning, you rubbed small circles into your temples, but the pain didn’t go away.

With a quiet curse, you pushed yourself out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and rummaging through the cabinet for painkillers.

You sipped the water, trying to shake away the headache. You knew you couldn��t go back to sleep anymore.

“And then...then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping.”

Red. Blood. Gunshots. Fire.

It came out of nowhere.The girl tried to run, tried to scream for help, but no one heard her. Strong arms grabbed her. A sharp prick in her neck. A syringe filled with something that numbed her limbs and blurred her vision.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

She woke up in a cold, empty room. Tied to a chair. She couldn’t move. Her head spun, her vision distorted. Muffled voices drifted in. She heard screaming–

“They’d wake up in a cold sweat.”

You jolted awake.

Cold sweat coated your skin. Your breathing was ragged.

“They would get nosebleeds.”

As you kept driving, you sniffled. Your nose tingled suddenly, a strange heat rushing to your face. You raised your hand to your upper lip, and when you pulled it away, you saw bright red on your fingertips.

“Oh…shoot,” you muttered, looking around for something to wipe your face with.

Karen glanced over. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said quickly, trying not to make a big deal of it. “Just a random nosebleed. Do you have any tissues?”

“Then they started seeing things,” Max continued. “Bad things. From their pasts. The visions just…they kept getting worse and worse, until eventually…everything ended.”

“Vecna’s curse,” Robin said grimly.

“Chrissy’s headache started a week ago,” Max explained. “Fred’s, six days ago. I’ve been having them for five days.”

You took a slow, deep breath, your brows pulling together. Yours had started three days ago.

“I don’t know how long I have,” Max admitted, her voice trembling. Your heart breaks at the thought of Max receiving the same fate as the others. You wouldn’t let that happen. “All I know is, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock, so…looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.”

Suddenly, the entrance doors swung open with a loud creak. You all froze.

Your hand moved to the waistband of your jeans. “Stay here,” you ordered, stepping out slowly.

Steve scoffed, grabbing a lamp. “Yeah, right.”

You drew your gun. Steve followed beside you, lamp in hand. There wasn’t time to question it, your focus was on the hallway ahead. Then someone ran toward you, screaming the moment they spotted you and Steve raising your weapons.

“It’s me! It’s me!” Lucas yelled, hands shooting up.

You and Steve both screamed in shock, backing away.

“Lucas?” Nancy called out.

“It’s me!” He repeated, panting heavily.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you, Sinclair?!” Steve shouted, throwing his arms up.

“I’m sorry!”

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”

“And I could’ve just shot you!” You yelled.

“Sorry, guys. Sorry.” Lucas huffed. “I’ve been biking for eight miles. Just, give me a second.” He rested his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. “We’ve got a code red.”

“What?” Steve asked.

“Dustin,” Lucas turned to him, “I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy. They’ve gone completely off the rails. They’re trying to capture Eddie. And they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger.”

“Okay, yeah, that definitely sucks,” Dustin replied. “But we’ve got bigger problems than Jason right now.” He glanced toward Max.

Lucas followed his gaze. When his eyes landed on Max, his face fell.

Your thoughts kept circling back to everything Max had said. If all of it was true, then you could be next. Another victim of Vecna.

You wanted to tell the others about you having the same symptoms that Chrissy, Fred, and Max had experienced. But the words wouldn’t come. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, not when everyone was already worried about Max. You didn’t want to split their focus.

You were determined to save her. That was what mattered. Not you. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. Maybe the symptoms didn’t mean anything. You hadn’t seen the clock, after all. There was still time. Maybe you’d all solve this mystery before it ever came to that.

Nancy had asked you to drive to her house so you could all start working on a plan. You’d left Steve, Max, Lucas, and Dustin behind in the Wheeler’s basement, while you, Nancy, and Robin met up with a few of Nancy’s newspaper teammates to put together fake identities for Pennhurst Asylum. The whole thing took the entire night.

Now, you opened the basement door and made your way downstairs, ready to share the plan.

You smiled as you reached the bottom step and looked at everyone. “Okay, so…we have a plan.”

Everyone gathered around in a circle on the basement couches, glancing over the fake profiles you, Nancy, and Robin handed out.

“Thanks to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin announced with a grin.

“I’m now Ruth,” Nancy said.

“I’m Rose,” Robin added.

“And I’m Ruby,” you said.

“Ruby?” Steve gave you a look, raising an eyebrow. You just tilted your head and smiled.

Dustin examined your profile, his eyes widening at the 3.9 GPA. “Nice GPA.”

“Thanks,” you said with a shrug.

“So we called Pennhurst Asylum,” Nancy began. “We told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics…”

“To which they said no,” Robin cut in, a bit too cheerfully.

“But we managed to get a three o’clock with the director,” you added.

“Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” Robin finished.

“Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse,” Nancy said, her eyes drifting to Max, who was seated at the desk, scribbling something down.

“About that…” Steve started, glancing between you and the others. “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh…we’ve got some questions.”

“Lots of questions,” Lucas chimed in.

“So do we,” you replied. “Hopefully Victor has the answers.”

Steve flipped through the stack of fake documents, his brow furrowed. “Wait…wait a second…” He looked up at you. “Where’s mine?”

You blinked in confusion, your eyebrows knitting together.

You and Nancy made your way upstairs to her room, Steve and Robin trailing close behind. Steve was still grumbling, clearly annoyed about being left out of the Pennhurst plan.

“Y/N, you’re outta your mind if you think I’m babysitting again,” Steve complained, gesturing wildly. Nancy headed straight for her closet, flipping through hangers in search of an outfit for the meeting. You turned around to face Steve, already frustrated.

“They’re not babies anymore, Steve,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “And Max is in serious danger. She needs people around her.”

“I know that,” Steve said. “But why does it always have to be me?”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a look. “Would you rather it be me who stays back?”

Steve’s face fell. “No! No, of course not. You’re, like, the smartest one here.”

“Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster,” Robin interrupted, walking toward the wall with a teasing grin. She turned to Nancy, smirking. “You have a Tom Cruise poster.”

“That’s old,” Nancy replied quickly, clearly flustered. “Just…can you please not touch anything?”

You turned back to Steve. “I need Nancy and Robin with me. We’ve got to be convincing. That means you’re on watch duty. It’s only fair.”

Steve threw his hands in the air. “I can’t do anything here, Y/N! Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don’t know. I could turn on my…my charm.”

You crossed your arms, shaking your head. “Not the kind of charm we need.”

“Ouch,” Steve muttered.

“No, seriously,” you said, trying to explain. “I did some more digging last night. Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association. He’s also a visiting scholar at Harvard. This guy is no joke. He’s a lifelong student of the world. If we’re gonna convince him, we’ve got to meet him at his level.”

You glanced at Nancy, still elbow-deep in her closet.

“We have to make him believe that we’re academic scholars too,” you finished.

Robin had wandered to Nancy’s dresser and opened a small box. “Holy shit. There’s a little ballerina in here,” she whispered, clearly amused.

Steve scoffed, pointing at her. “Academic scholar? She’s giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah.”

Nancy finally turned around, holding up a couple of dresses. “No, but…she will.”

“Oh, please tell me you’re joking,” Robin groaned.

You and Nancy exchanged a glance and smirked.

You, Nancy, and Robin arrived at the asylum in your car, all three of you wearing the dresses Nancy had lent out. Robin hadn’t stopped complaining the entire drive.

“I can't breathe in this thing, and I’m itchy. I’m itching all over,” she grumbled, tugging at the sleeves.

“It’s not all about comfort,” Nancy replied with an eye roll. “Okay? We’re academics.”

“Who are evidently coming straight from Easter brunch,” Robin muttered, throwing her hands up. “Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs. Do your boobs not feel weird in this bra?” She turned to you.

You glanced down, making a face. “Okay, yeah, it feels a little weird…” You quickly shook your head. “Anyway, just…let Nance and I do all the talking, okay? Please stay quiet. If that’s even possible.”

“It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable,” Robin said dramatically. “Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation.”

You sat in the director’s office, with him eyeing your fake profiles.

“3.9 GPAs,” he said, flipping through the papers. “All of you. Impressive.”

Nancy handed him another sheet. “And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually. Eh, you know what they say. ‘Those who can’t do, teach.’”

“Yes, exactly,” you replied with a polite smile. “That’s why we’re here. A classroom can only teach us so much.”

“And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You put in a request and then undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

You three furrowed your eyebrows, worried that your plan was going to end up failing.

“I can see you’re disappointed. But I’m more than happy to give you a tour. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing.”

“And we’d…we would love that,” Nancy said quickly. “It’s just that, um…our thesis is due next month.”

“And you’re out of time,” he said flatly. “Whose fault is that?”

“Ours. Of course,” you reassured him. “And I sincerely apologize–”

“Don’t apologize, Ruby. Screw that,” Robin interrupted, making both you and Nancy snap toward her in alarm. “The fact is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis.” She turned to you both. “And I really…I can’t breathe in this thing.”

You glared at her. “Well, Rose, maybe you should step outside and get some air.”

“Maybe I should, Ruby,” Robin shot back, standing. “Because I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash. My boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony?”

Hatch sighed.

“These aren’t my clothes,” Robin continued. “I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field. They just don’t. We don’t look the part or whatever. But can I tell you a story?”

You and Nancy glanced at each other nervously. You didn’t know what Robin was going to say but you had no choice but to listen.

“1978, I was at summer camp. And my counselor, Drew, told me and everyone in Cabin C the true story of the Victor Creel Massacre. And little Petey McHew…You know Petey, right, Ruth? Ruby?” She asked, looking at the two of you.

“Of…of course,” Nancy answered.

“Yeah. Little Petey McHew started sobbing right there on the spot. Full-on hyperventilating. The other campers couldn’t sleep for weeks. I couldn’t either, but not ‘cause I was scared. Because I was obsessed with the question, ‘What would drive a human being to commit such unimaginable acts?’ Other kids wanted to be astronauts, basketball players, rock stars. But I wanted to be you,” she said, pointing at Hatch. “I wanted to be you. So, forgive me if I’ll now try anything in my power, including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get to speak to the man that ignited my passion and learn a little more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works.”

You stared at her, lips parted slightly. Maybe you were wrong about Robin after all.

“So, yes, we don’t have the official paperwork, but don’t tell me that cry-baby Petey McHew wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in moments if he’d asked politely, because you and I both know that he would.”

You and Nancy turned to the director, holding your breath.

Robin softened. “So…ten minutes with Victor. That’s all I ask.”

Hatch studied you for a long moment. Then, finally, he smiled. “Follow me.”

The three of you followed him out of the office, shared smirks creeping onto your faces. Robin held out her hands and you and Nancy high-fived her as you walked.

“These are our gardens,” Hatch said as he led you outside. “Beautiful, aren’t they? We allow them two hours of outside time a day.”

“Can’t they just escape?” Robin asked, looking at all of the patients.

“They could. But the vast majority choose to be here. They like it here.”

Inside, Hatch led you through the listening room. Patients sat quietly, headphones on.

“This is one of our more popular areas. The listening room. We found that music has a particularly calming effect on the broken mind. The right song, particularly one which holds some personal meaning, can prove a salient stimulus. But there are those who are beyond a cure.”

You exchanged a glance. You’d heard something similar in one of your psychology classes, about music reaching parts of the brain other stimuli couldn’t.

Finally, you reached the secure wing. Nancy spoke up.

“Uh, Dr. Hatch, do you think it might be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?”

“Alone?” Hatch frowned. The guard beside him raised an eyebrow.

“I…I think that we would just love the challenge of speaking with Victor without the safety net of an expert such as yourself,” Robin said. “Then we could really rub it in Professor Bradley’s face.”

“Professor Bradley? I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”

“Brantley!” You jumped in. “She…she meant to say Brantley.”

“Didn’t I say Brantley? What did I say?” Robin laughed nervously. “Sorry, silly me. Words, letters. Guess I’m just nervous. I mean, excited! So excited to speak with Victor. Preferably, as she said, alone?”

Hatch studied you, silent. You held his gaze, your smile never wavering even though your stomach twisted.

He finally tilted his head, smiling. “Yes. Why not? You’ve caught me in a rebellious mood.” He looked down to check his watch. “And there’s something rather urgent I need to check on anyway, so…Sure.” He turned to the guard. “Keep a close eye on them.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Hatch,” Robin said as he walked away.

“Thank you,” you and Nancy echoed.

The guard unlocked the door. “Do not startle him. Do not touch him. Do not pass him anything. Stand five feet away from the bars at all times. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered at the same time.

At the end of the hall, a man sat with his back to you, motionless.

“Victor,” the guard called. “Today’s your lucky day. You got visitors. Real pretty ones.”

You grimaced but said nothing. Victor began slowly scraping his nails across the metal table. The sound echoed down the corridor.

“Must be in one of his moods,” the guard muttered, walking off. “Have fun.”

You took a cautious step forward. “Victor? My name is Y/N Kaul. And this is…”

“Nancy Wheeler,” Nancy introduced herself.

“And…”

“Robin Buckley,” Robin added. “Um…we have some questions.”

“I don’t talk to reporters!” Victor snapped. “Hatch knows that.”

“We’re not reporters,” Nancy said, taking a step closer. “We’re here because…we believe you.”

“And because we need your help,” Robin said gently.

“Whatever killed your family…” You swallowed. “We think it’s back.”

Victor froze. His nails stopped scraping. Slowly, he turned to face you.

His scratched out eyes met yours. Your breath caught, lips parting.

“When he attacks, our friend described it as a trance,” you said quietly, watching Victor’s expression. “Like a waking nightmare. That’s why we think she’s next.”

He didn’t speak. His hands moved slowly over each other, rubbing his palms together like he was trying to scrub something invisible away.

“Victor…” you tried again, softer this time. “Does any of this, anything we just told you, sound like what happened to your family?”

Still silence.

“I know this is hard–”

“You don’t know anything!” Victor snapped suddenly, voice sharp.

You paused. Your breath caught in your throat. But then, quietly, you pushed forward.

“No. You’re right. I don’t know what it was like for you. Not exactly.” You looked down, and then back up at him. “But I do know what it’s like to lose everything in minutes.”

Victor didn’t move, but his hands stilled.

Robin and Nancy turned to you slowly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I…I lost my parents. In a fire. Both my mom and dad.” Your voice stayed quiet, drowning out everything around you. “It happened fast. I was the only one left. Sometimes I wish I was in that fire with them.”

Victor turned slightly toward you, just barely.

“So no, I don’t know exactly what you went through. But I know what it’s like to live through something that never really leaves you.”

Nancy blinked slowly beside you, her lips parted. Robin’s brow furrowed. Neither of them said a word. They couldn’t tell if you were lying, but the way you spoke, it sounded genuine.

You took a breath, steadier now. “That’s why we’re here. We want to understand. How did you survive that night, Victor?”

Victor’s head lifted. “Survived?” He stood, slowly, his figure behind the bars. “Is that what you call this? Did I survive? No, I assure you, I am still very much in hell.”

He finally began to speak.

He told you about the house, the way it turned against them. The dead animals, the visions, the radio flickering on by itself. His daughter, Alice, screaming about nightmares. His son, Henry, who could sense something was wrong.

He spoke of the dinner table. Of Virginia’s body lifting off the ground, bones breaking mid-air, her eyes vanishing into her skull. The door that wouldn’t open. The flash of a war memory that nearly killed him.

And then he heard the voice. The one that called him back. That led him out of the memory.

His voice cracked. “While I was away, the demon took my children. Henry slipped into a coma shortly after that. A week later, he died.” He tapped the side of his face. “I tried to join them. I tried. But Hatch stopped the bleeding. He wouldn’t let me join them.”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes stinging. “The angel you followed, who was she?”

Victor didn’t answer. Instead, he moved slowly to the bed, laid down, and began to hum. Low and soft like a child. He completely shut down.

“Victor?” You called again, stepping closer to the bars. “Victor!”

But he didn’t respond. He curled into the pillow and kept humming.

The door suddenly swung open. You and the girls spun around.

“Is he everything you hoped he’d be?” Hatch snapped, voice sharp. “Because I just had a very interesting conversation with Professor Brantley. Perhaps we should discuss in my office while we wait for the police.”

Your breath caught. You’d been caught red-handed. Now you just needed a way out fast.

“You’re not listening!” You shouted as Hatch motioned you to follow him, the guards behind you three. “Our friend is in danger!”

“Do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say at this point?” Hatch replied coldly.

“It’s the truth!” Nancy argued.

“You’re free to tell your sob story to the police,” he said flatly.

As you were led outside, Robin suddenly spoke. “Victor said the night of the attack, everything went on in the house, but he made specific mention of music. He said music was playing. And then, when we asked him about the angel…he started to hum.”

She looked between the two of you and started to sing softly.

“Dream a Little Dream of Me,” Nancy murmured in realization.

“Yeah. Ella Fitzgerald,” Robin said, nodding.

“The voice of an angel,” Nancy echoed.

“Exactly,” Robin said. “Hatch said that music can reach parts of the brain that words can’t. So maybe that’s the key, a lifeline.”

“A lifeline back to reality!” You stated, looking between Nancy and Robin. “Of course. Music can significantly impact the brain and activate many regions of it.”

“It’s our best shot.”

You glanced back. The guards were still behind you. Then you looked at Nancy and Robin.

“I think we can beat them.”

“What?” Robin asked, thrown.

“To the car.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “Okay, I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination. Took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies.”

“Just follow my lead.”

You took off running. Nancy followed immediately. Robin shrieked an “Oh my God!” as she ran after you both, flailing her arms like she’d never ran in her life.

You heard the guards yelling behind you, their footsteps close. You made it to the car first, yanked open the driver’s door, and jumped in. Nancy and Robin scrambled in behind you, screaming for you to go.

You slammed the locks down and hit the gas just as fists pounded on the windows. Tires screeched as you drove down the road.

Laughter burst out of you. You caught Robin’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “You really are a weird runner.”

“That was insane!” Nancy said breathlessly, shaking her head.

Suddenly, the walkie-talkie next to Robin crackled to life.

“Robin! Where the hell are you?! This is a code red. I repeat! Code red!” Dustin’s panicked voice echoed through the car.

Robin snatched it up. “Dustin, it’s Robin. We hear you.”

“Oh my God, finally! Please tell me you guys have this figured out!”

Robin looked at you. “We think music is the key. It’s how to break out of Vecna’s trance. We need to play their favorite song.”

Dustin’s voice came back, strained. “It’s Max. He’s got her. She’s not waking up.”

Your heart dropped. Without hesitation, you hit the gas harder.

“Where are you?” You asked.

Dustin rattled off the location of the cemetery. You sped down the road, hands tight against the wheel.

You reached the graveyard and skidded the car to a stop. The three of you jumped out, sprinting toward the figures in the distance.

You saw Max, trembling in Lucas’s arms, her face streaked with tears.

“Oh my God,” you whispered.

You dropped to your knees beside her. Max looked up and as soon as she saw you, she fell into your arms, clutching you tight. You wrapped her up, holding her like she might slip away again.

Her breath hitched against your chest. You gently rubbed her back.

“You’re okay,” you whispered. “You’re okay, Max. You’re okay.”

You all drove back to the Wheeler’s house in two separate cars. The ride was silent. No one said a word.

You were so close to losing Max. If you, Nancy, and Robin hadn’t given Dustin that information in time…You didn’t even want to think about what could’ve happened.

Back in the basement, everyone sat quietly. No one knew what to say.

“So…music is the key to escaping Vecna?” Steve finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Supposedly,” Nancy replied. “Victor didn’t outright say it, but…it was in the way he told the story. The music, the humming…”

“So you guessed?” Lucas asked, brows drawn together.

Nancy nodded slowly. “Yeah…We did. But luckily, we were right.”

You stood, about to head upstairs for a glass of water, when Robin’s voice stopped you.

“Speaking of stories…Y/N made up a pretty wild one to get Victor to talk.”

You froze on the first step.

“Like what?” Dustin asked, curious to hear.

Nancy’s eyes stayed fixed on your back. You hadn’t moved an inch.

“She said her parents died in a fire or something,” Robin rambled casually. “Which, okay, kind of dark to make that up just to get a guy to open up, but I mean, it worked. The weird part is, she sounded so real I almost believed her. But like, it’s obviously not true. Her mom’s literally alive.”

Your hand tightened around the stair railing. You didn’t trust your legs to hold you up.

Steve noticed your lack of movement.

“Y/N?” He said gently.

Everyone turned toward you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Steve asked again.

You turned slowly.

The room went silent when they saw the tears streaming silently down your cheeks.

“It wasn’t made up,” you said quietly.

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

♡ - for vlad and robin plz

✧ ── 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 ♡ 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍

●●●●● | ATTRACTION ●●●●● | AFFECTION ●●●●● | INTEREST ●●●●● | LOYALTY ●●●●● | TRUST

── Robin's relationship with Vladimir is one of the best accidental things that could have happened to him as a character; and I say accidental because @hemoplagued and I were just chatting about them and then suddenly there was a super long plot line and their chemistry worked really well together? Vladimir, ultimately, leads to the best ending Robin can have that both releases him from his previous guilt/grief and still allows him to be a ruthless power hungry monster. Robin's connection with Vladimir blurs the lines of romance and obsession often, these two are so disgustingly intrigued and forever fascinated by the other that their relationship never grows stale. Robin is constantly eager to learn new things and Vladimir is an endless treasure trove of knowledge from living such a long life. Vladimir is also one of the few people Robin feels comfortable touching and being touched by. Touch is something that's very important to Robin (as he barely lets anyone touch him in anyway besides a handshake) - but through Vladimir he is truly able to feed his touch starvation without any sense of worry. They've been together for so long that its difficult to imagine his life without Vladimir as his partner; together they have a life they can both indulge and be happy in. Robin loves with his entire soul and gives all of himself to Vlad without a doubt that he will get the same level of commitment back. Two villains madly in love.

[jayden-killer]

Late night talking.

A phone call with your classmate Eddie in the middle of the night is the medicine of your current problems.

A/N: I feel like I am more competent in writing with the use of the third person than in the first person. I can express better what’s in my head. However, I wanted to give 1st POV a try. So here we go! As always, leave feedback. I apologise if you find any mistakes regarding the use of English; I'm a non-native English speaker.♡

divider by @uzmacchiato

The day could not be worse than this. Or better, it could not be worse than this in general. It had become problematic whatever I did, a real burden to carry on my shoulders all the time. Even the little things got on my nerves, like the cup full of milk that slips out of my hands, being late for class even though I had left home before, even if someone was joking by making a joke annoyed me.

Robin had told me to take it "lightly" because nothing serious had happened, but in the last period, it had become too much. So much so that I cried in my bed, the blankets pulled up to my face and clenching a plushie on my chest that I had from when I was little. Afterwards I don’t remember why my hands reached out to get the phone, nor why I chose to call Eddie Munson, the local freak from our religious town; all I know is that I did it without hesitation.

I didn’t talk to him much. In fact, I didn’t talk to him at all. We were two classmates taking the same English course during this second semester. We had had few and minimal conversations, very short. In the latest one, Eddie asked me for explanations about one of Shakespeare’s sonnets, and I, as a good educated person, made myself available to explain it to him. He seemed a little distracted, but I didn’t blame him: Shakespeare wasn’t for everyone, and I didn’t feel like saying no, especially with those doe brown chocolate button eyes...

Nevermind. I'm zoining out, aren't I? I'm thinking about him again.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. He was probably already asleep. But after all, who would stay awake at 2:33 in the morning, knowing that the next day they had to be at school? Of course, me.

I had a heart-pounding feeling that the cornet on the other end had risen and a male voice, tired, had answered the phone. "Munson House, this is Eddie speaking."

For a moment, I had a cramp in my throat. I didn’t think he would answer seriously. The thought of Eddie Munson talking to me on the phone in the middle of the night made me shiver, yet it unleashed that feeling of contentment all over my body.

"Helloooo? Who’s on the phone?"

I didn’t realize I hadn’t answered it yet. "Eddie. Hi." I reminded him who I was by mentioning my name. "The girl who explained Shakespeare to you. Remember?"

On the other side I heard a rustle, perhaps Eddie was getting comfortable in his bed or couch. It was at that moment that I asked myself what he was doing before I bothered him with this stupid, senseless call-

"How can I not remember a pretty face like yours?" he laughed playfully. "How are you?"

"I’m fine… At least I think so." Apparently, that answer wasn’t enough for Eddie. His question had been my point of no return; I burst into tears. Clenching the plushie tighter to me, I made to answer, until he took the word.

"What’s going on?" he asked softly. I imagined that troubled expression that sometimes at lunch, in the cafeteria, appeared on his face and I could not help but observe him, curious.

"It’s not a good time. I’m sorry if I called you at this hour, it’s also past two o'clock in the morning and maybe you were sleeping. I don’t know why I called you, we don’t know each other well–"

Call me anytime.

I was interrupted by his steady and, at the same time, reassuring voice. "Hey, hey, hey, it’s all right, you don't have to apologise for this," he laughed softly.

"I know we haven't spoken a lot in the last...semester? Or more? But seriously, you can call me anytime. I don't mind talking to you."

Those three words were enough to send me off.

Call me anytime, call me anytime...

There was a little silence between us, precisely because I had been caught off guard and my frailties were about to be finally exposed.

"And you’re not the only one who needs to be distracted during no-periods."

"Right."

My eyes focus on the ceiling and my fingers loosen their grip on the phone. "What were you doing?" I tried to ask, moving on to another topic.

"I was watching television. I rented a movie from the store where Harrington works. Wanna know something? I asked for a discount because we were friends and he started with: 'Munson, after you threw up on my shoes a few weeks ago because of your cheap beer, I don’t think we can call ourselves friends'" he said, imitating the voice of Steve Harrington.

Sometimes they passed by me in the main corridor, other times I had seen them in the parking lot behind the school talking about who knows what. Surely he had managed to make me laugh at that moment, to make me lighter.

"What movie were you watching?"

"Highlander."

"Come on! I like it too".

Eddie whistled in surprise. "I didn’t know you liked sci-fi movies. You’re a woman of many surprises". He chuckled, probably shifting again. "Well, obviously we’re both nerds. Although I should have expected it from the leader of the Hellfire."

"You should come sometime. To our D&D sessions, I mean." I felt Eddie take a deep breath and throw it out, as if he had thought twice about whether to ask me or not. I felt my face going on fire at that moment.

"Really?"

"Really, really."

Everything was happening so fast that I didn’t realize it had been an hour and a half since I started the call. The conversation was one of those typical between two friends who knew each other for a lifetime and it seemed that the embarrassment I showed at first in calling him had never existed. I wish he was here…

No, no, no. Don’t start again. Keep it together, woman!

I yawned. The new position I had taken had become too comfortable and sleep was about to take over me. "Are you sleepy?" Eddie asked me with a tired tone, and once again I imagined him lying on the sofa, looking at the TV with distracted eyes.

"Yes," I said, "and you should sleep too."

God, why was I reminding him? It wasn’t my boyfriend. Was I going too far?

"Right, and tomorrow we’re gonna have another day in that shit-hole jail."

"The jail is the school?" I chuckled, rubbing my eyes.

"School, jail...doesn't make a difference to me anyway" He yawned too. "Was I helpful?" he asked and I furrowed my eyebrows at that question. "What do you mean?"

"It seems like my job here is done." He then replied and I facepalmed mentally because he had asked me if he was helpful of making me forget what happened during these weeks. I nodded, even if he couldn't see me at all. "Very much."

"Great. Then, sleep well, okay? I hope to see you tomorrow at school."

He wants to see me. Me. The thought of it made my heart do a flip in my ribcage, and I couldn't contain the large, tired smile appearing on my face. It felt like a scene coming straight from a rom-com movie, even though my life wasn't a comedy at all.

"Sure. Yeah. Maybe...at lunch?"

"Come by my table. I'll introduce you to my fellow followers".

What was that so surprising to me? Eddie wasn’t really who the town thought he was. They painted him as if it were a creature from Dante’s hell, when he represented its exact opposite. He was friendly, funny, kind, cordial and even offered to meet his group of friends. I was looking forward to tomorrow morning.

"Of course! Yes, I would love to".

"You’d better rest then. I’ll see you tomorrow."

Before I could hang up the phone, Eddie said one last thing that kept me awake for a little while:

"You’re a nice person. I’m glad to have spoken with you".

[edward-munson]

don't you give up (i won't give up) | E.M

Summary: Eddie is hanging between life and death during the events in the Upside Down | Modern Hawkins

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, injuries. Smut (p in v) 18+ MDNI, fingering, aftercare. (I thought about the title inspired by "Let Me Love You" by Justin Bieber. I know it's completely random, but trust the process)

°♡•☆

The first few seconds of what just happened before your eyes will forever haunt you. There's something too inexplicable about everything you've been going through the past weeks. While Steve, Nancy and Robin went after Vecna, you stayed behind with Dustin and Eddie.

The latter was thrown on the floor, blood coming out of him nonstop as the demobats fed off his flesh. You could only let out a whisper of horror before you rushed to him, kneeling beside his limp body. He was still breathing, but the amount of red fluid leaving his mouth was shocking. He was almost gargling on it. Your first instinct was to rip off your shirt and start to cover his wounds, carefully moving his head to the side so he wouldn't choke.

I used to believe

We were burnin' on the edge of somethin' beautiful

Somethin' beautiful

Dustin came right next, his voice screaming painfully loud as he seemed petrified at the sight. You don't remember how you were able to speak, but you told him you needed to leave with Eddie right at that moment. He was wheezing, his skin becoming rigid and he was probably beginning to feel shock.

"What the f-fuck is happening? What is happening?" His tone was desperate and aggravating as the minutes went by.

It didn't dawn on you how long you would have to run until you got to the gate in his trailer. And you wouldn't be able to hold him while riding the bike. The longer it took you, the more terrified you felt. The more he was starting to feel his body become unbearable. Dustin had a sprained ankle, he was doing his best to run after you while holding his friend for dear life.

Sellin' a dream

Smoke and mirrors keep us waitin' on a miracle

On a miracle

When you finally made it to the trailer, Jonathan and Hopper were waiting for you to pick him up, as you tied him to the sheet that separated both worlds. They pulled him first, the chief rushing to get him to the hospital, while Jonathan helped you and Dustin next. He drove you afterwards, a dreadful sensation of what could happen to him. The realization that it wouldn't have been enough to save him.

He stayed in the ICU for days, tied to machines and barely breathing from swallowing blood. His lungs were filled with liquid because of that, his wounds ended up being infected.

There wasn't a day that wouldn't go missing without you or your friends visiting him and Max. His Hellfire friends, especially the younger ones, would read comics to him every day. Eleven tried to do telepathy, willing to make sure how he was healing. It was slow, barely any improvement. But no one would lose faith that he would get better, just like Max.

Say, go through the darkest of days

Heaven's a heartbreak away

Never let you go, never let me down

It felt like ages, but it took him nearly two months to recover slightly, until he woke up. You weren't there when it happened, Robin and Steve were there and they both made an entire show about it in the hall. He was still alive, but still hanging on. His skin was paler, his features were skinnier, hollowed cheeks were too evident on his face.

His hair was clearly in need of a good care, and his voice was hoarse from the lack of speaking. There was still a lot to recover, and each time he would have someone visit him, he would never get bored. You were all doing different things with him, making sure he would distract himself from the memories of what had happened.

Whenever you would get in, his face would light up. Brown eyes glinting with joy of seeing you. Eddie would always freeze when asked about how he felt or what he remembers from that day. His mind goes spiraling at the thought of it. He doesn't remember the last few minutes.

He remembers the bats ripping his skin off, the sound of flesh being pulled out of him, too shocked to even react. At times, he swears he can still feel the sensation. He needs to take sleeping pills, otherwise he would never sleep. And even if he does, his brain draws out the event repeatedly.

Oh, it's been a hell of a ride

Driving the edge of a knife

Never let you go, never let me down

Eddie needs to do therapy twice a week. It doesn't get easier with time, it gets more bearable. It gnaws him to the point of him wishing he could shut his mind off from everything. El can't do much for him when he asks for help, she can only see the trauma, the stress and the pain from all of it. You walk through it all with him.

You make him let it all out, you give him comforting words and a reassuring smile that things can get better. A deep sigh always escapes his lips when he's with you. He felt that before everything happened, but when shit went down, he didn't have time to work it out. He almost forgot.

Your feather light touch makes his skin numb, in a good way. The touch almost burns the spot. When you hold his hand, he yearns from the thought of interlacing his fingers with yours. He hates to see himself that skinny, thinking he looks too hideous. You're not focusing on it, not in the slightest. He misses you when you kiss his forehead goodbye, tugging at his bangs when you fix them. He would ask you to stay the night and make him company and you would never refuse it.

Don't you give up, nah, nah, nah

I won't give up, nah, nah, nah

Let me love you

Let me love you

You've seen him growing out of the fear, of the reluctance of being out in the world again. Months later, and he was feeling like himself again. He started working, giving himself a new life. Eddie didn't want to let everything that Vecna did to be a part of his memory.

°♡•☆

You're sitting across from him at the table as you play poker. He taught you how to play during the days he spent in the hospital. You see the way he cages his lower lip between his teeth, fingertips tapping against the cards in his hands. Everyone seems to be enjoying the sunny summer day at the pool at Steve's cabin. A year later, and you all decided to celebrate his rebirth, his life. Somewhere across Hawkins, the teens are celebrating Max as well.

You wait until his next move, but he takes longer than necessary to play. "Oh my God, will you stop fucking bluffing and just play?"

He feigned a gasp and lowered the cards from his face, enough to look at you through his sunglasses.

"Don't interrupt the master, baby. He's focused" You roll your eyes, using your instep to swat his knee under the table. "Ow! Is that really necessary?"

"I should be asking you the same, you moron."

Eddie doesn't take the mocking insult to heart, stalling on purpose this time just to see you become furious at him. Robin keeps delivering small pieces of barbecue to you two, as well as the drinks Nancy has been making to everyone.

He seems to ponder before placing his cards over the table. Three of a kind, which means he got 3 cards of the same value. You try to hold back a smirk, but he notices right away, slumping against his chair.

Don't fall asleep

At the wheel, we've got a million miles ahead of us

Miles ahead of us

"Fuck off. No way!" His voice is loud enough for your friends to suddenly gather around. They like to be the audience whenever you two play, only because they know how competitive he can be. "No, no, no. Nuh-uh"

His denial is almost too adorable. He knows he's about to lose when you playfully push your tongue between your teeth and grin. A shit eating grin.

"Well, well, pretty boy. See for yourself" You display your cards and you hear your friends exclaiming in surprise.

You got a full house. And Eddie isn't surprised. He can be smug all he wants, he knows when he's going to lose. He's a sore loser as well.

You bring your hand over your ear and move your head to the side, mocking him "Master of what now?"

"Shut up" He mumbles in complete denial.

"You're just bad at it, Munson. Just admit it" Jonathan pinches his cheek and shakes it, earning a slap on his forearm.

"Whatever. I'm going for a swim" Eddie straightens up from his chair, lifting his swim shorts as he fixes the straps.

You watch him pick up the cards and organize them into the small box. His lips are curled upwards, but his hair almost covers the way he's trying to smile. He likes to see you winning against him. He swears he doesn't cheat for you to win, he loves seeing you cheer whenever he loses. Truth to his friends' words, he's definitely a sore loser, but he doesn't mind you winning.

Eddie pulled some weight after he left the hospital. He was definitely more fit. Not muscly, but absolutely in shape, just like Steve. You can see his stomach fold just enough. His arms are thicker than before and he has a lot more to grab, even his thighs. He covered his scars with tattoos from things he likes. Your favorite one being the snake wrapped around a sword over his left side.

All that we need

Is a rude awakening to know we're good enough (yeah)

Know we're good enough

"Nice round, love. I'm glad I taught you well" Eddie gives you a sympathetic smile before sprinting to the pool, throwing himself at the water as it almost splashes at Vickie, who's sunbathing.

You watch from your seat as he laughs at the jokes Jonathan makes, at the way he's so unbothered to be shirtless after everything that happened. To his demeanor when he talks with Robin and Nancy. Steve pulls a lounge chair beside yours and sighs deeply, putting his sunglasses on as he runs his fingers through his damp hair.

"He seems pretty happy" He says, taking a swig from his beer and you nod in agreement. "Never thought I would see him smiling ever again after that."

The man next to you also carries scars along his body. His neck has a fading mark from when a demobat choked him, his sides also have bite marks from their teeth. He didn't hide like Eddie did, but he doesn't care they're there, it means he survived.

"It's like nothing ever happened, but I know he has nightmares sometimes. I like to see him this way, like he never lived it."

Steve knows. He knows more than anyone, even more so than Robin, that you carry feelings for his best friend. He’s always known, before things went to shit. And he’s also very aware that the metalhead likes you too. It’s been a few months ever since he gripped your hands and talked off his feelings, asking you to wait. He wanted to heal first, he wanted to feel better before anything could happen between you two, and you agreed to it. You gave him space, you respected his wish and showed him support. You were still waiting, still lingering on the thought of finally being with him. 

Say, go through the darkest of days

Heaven's a heartbreak away

Never let you go, never let me down

“God, birdie. Stop gawking at him, it’s gonna burn holes on his body and it’s not like he doesn’t have scars already” He nudges your elbow playfully and you flip him off, ruffling his hair. 

“Shut up, Harrington.” He’s still chuckling, looking at you with amusement. You frowned, but deep inside you knew you were staring too much at him. 

You’ve spent the entire day by the pool, almost getting sunburnt from how long you’ve all stayed out. You’ve had dinner at the table outside, relishing on the starry sky above you. The moon shined upon you, the pool water reflecting its beauty. You all smoked a joint after eating, sprawled out either on the lounge chair or on the grass around the place. You played Uno before most of your friends decided to go inside and get some rest, leaving just you and Eddie alone. 

He had his Spotify on the big speaker, a faint song by some band he likes playing while you two just enjoyed each other’s company. He was scrolling through his phone, snorting at something random every few minutes. You were just watching him. 

“You’re not being subtle, love. What is it?” He asked all of a sudden, lifting his eyes from his phone to look at you, and you just shrug. “No, don’t start with that thing with me.”

“What, I can’t look? Isn’t that the whole purpose of having eyes?” You play oblivious, resting your chin over your hands, your elbows bent above the table. 

Eddie chuckles at your response and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, smartass. You know what I mean.”

You get up from the lounge chair and walk towards the edge of the pool, sitting down, dropping your feet over the water. He stays behind on the table, watching you with curious eyes and a big question mark over his head. 

“It’s… I love seeing you. I love the idea of having you around, knowing you’re still alive.” You feel him sitting beside you, water almost knee deep. “I love the way you still joke around us and how you enjoy yourself.”

Oh, it's been a hell of a ride

Driving the edge of a knife

Never let you go, never let me down

He smiles. It’s not a sad one, but it’s also not a happy one either. It comes with some kind of pain from the memories of the past event. He ponders for a good minute and something snaps inside of him. The realization of what he’s been witnessing the past few months crashing down on him. Eddie had always seen the way you looked at him, the way you would always take care of him, he knows you’ve talked about feelings before, but he wasn’t sure you would still wait for him after all. And then, right there, sitting next to you, he decides to push aside any fear, and uses one of his hands to slide over your lap, reaching your fingers. He grips your hand, tight, and turns over to look at you. 

You do the same, and you watch the way his eyes sparkle with something you can’t decipher. And then, out of nowhere, he pulls you into the water with him, barely having time to react to his idea. His hand never left yours, even when you almost reach the bottom, trying to swat him away as you make your way to the surface.

You breathe out, heaving for the lack of air. He comes out of the water, breaking in laughter as his hair sticks to his face.

"You motherfuc–" He doesn't let you finish, spitting water towards you, cackling at the way you contort from annoyance. "Eddie! What was that for?"

He places both hands on your waist, still smiling at you with a devilish grin. "And I love the way you look at me. I love the way you've always cared for me, the way you always took care of me"

You soften at his touch and his words, feeling his fingertips against your skin. The led lights from the pool changed colors each second. You feel the hardness of the edge of the pool as he cages you. His hair is still sticking to his face, almost hiding his features, and you lift a hand to move the strands. He purses his lips, that are still curled upwards, taking in your soft touch on his skin. Your palm is spread over his jawline, thumb ghosting over his cheek.

Don't you give up, nah, nah, nah

I won't give up, nah, nah, nah

Let me love you

Let me love you

You watch him tilt his head, eyes frozen at you. "I love the way you look at me too" You almost whisper.

"I... I think I'm ready" He speaks up again, closing the distance between your bodies when his chest hovers over you. He brings one hand over your face as well, his fingertips grazing the nape of your hair.

"Are you sure?" You're feeling your heart rate pick up at the sight of him. Tattoos spread all over his body, small marks of scars peeking out of the ink that don't cover them all.

Eddie nods and bites his lower lip, leaving a deep sigh. He brings his forehead to rest against yours, and his mouth is merely inches from touching your mouth.

"God, I've wanted this for as long as I can remember. I just needed time" You can sense the nervousness coating his tone, but his hands are firm on you.

Your other hand holds his wrist for support "I'm so–"

He doesn't waste time letting you finish, finally closing the distance and crashing his lips against yours. Desperate fingers tangle your hair when he lashes out, his tongue touching your ferociously. He can still taste like weed, a faint taste of the wine he had as well, and you whimper against his mouth.

"God, don't do that" He pleads with his mouth still attached to yours. Your free hand goes up to his curls, raking your fingers over them. Your tongues clash against each other in a savoring kiss.

Eddie tries to stay focused on the moment, but he wants to drown in you. He wants to feel you entirely. He pulls your lower lip between his teeth and groans in urgency. You can feel his fingertips digging on your waist, his body almost leaning against you, almost buckling forward to feel you deeper.

You pull out to take a breath, filling your lungs with air as you try to soothe your own heart. "I want more, Eddie."

He's not surprised when you say it out loud. He'd been wanting this too. Especially with you. "Yeah, me too, baby."

He pulls you against him as he walks towards the steps in the pool, reaching for the shallow surface. He walks to the table and grabs the towel for both of you, messily drying himself so fast you bet he's still going to be wet. 

Since you were sharing the bedroom with Robin, you both go to Eddie's bedroom. He didn't want to share a room with Steve and you're glad he didn't. He closes the door behind him, eyes lingering at you, at the way you're eagerly waiting for it to happen as much as he does. He rushes a few steps towards you, cupping your face, moving his lips to yours once more. He kisses you like he needs air, like it's the last thing he wants to do. You feel the back of your knees hitting the foot of the bed, flopping down as you watch him with lust.

You look at his body, at the way his chest rises and falls, at how there's a tattoo peeking out of the hem of his swim shorts. He's quick to pick a condom from his drawer, leaving it to the side, immediately climbing on the bed. His body hovers over you, his hair cascading over his shoulders. He spread sweet, wet kisses along your neck, your collarbones and your chest, between your breasts and under them. He uses his hand to untie the straps of your bikini top, slowly pulling them off, fingertips ghosting against your skin as he starts to reveal your nipple.

The air that leaves his lips touches your sensitive spot and it makes you shiver. You let out a shocked gasp when he flattens his tongue over your hardened nipple, leaving a languish lick. Eddie circles your skin softly, using his free hand to slide over your stomach, reaching your bikini bottom. You don't want to overthink how the fuck he's such an expert at it, so you shut your brain down and focus on him. His fingers slip under the fabric, spreading your cunt, collecting your wetness.

"Oh God, Eddie" You mewled, feeling him humming against your breast. You know you're too far gone at this point and he just got started.

Don't you give up, nah, nah, nah

I won't give up, nah, nah, nah

Let me love you

Let me love you

He strokes your slit up and down, circling your clit almost lightly. It's staggering, it makes your head dizzy. Your eyes roll back to your skull when he sucks your nipple, hollowing his checks when he pulls pressure to it. His ring and middle finger slip inside of you smoothly, ripping a moan out of you. Eddie knows he's not going to last long, because it's been a long time ever since he had sex. And also because the sounds you make are like lullabies to him.

He pumps his fingers and curls them into you, making you roll your hips in reflex. He flicks his tongue over your nipple and it drives you to the edge of sanity. Your hand flies up to his hair, grabbing a fistful of his curls as you pull it back. He loves the way you have no idea how hard you're pulling his hair but he loves it. His fingers leave your cunt and you whine. The feeling of missing his touch is almost unbearable. He brings them to his mouth, sucking them off as he tastes you. It leaves you in awe at the sight of him almost falling apart for you.

Eddie slowly removes your bikini top, not ever leaving his eyes from yours. You clash your lips again, tongues almost interlacing together. He helps you remove the last piece of clothing you have before getting rid of his own shorts. His cock springs free, tip leaking with precum and length pulsing with anticipation. You take your time relishing at the sight, swallowing harshly. You want to gag on him, you want to choke on him. You reach to hold his shaft and he stops you.

"We'll have plenty of time, baby. I want you to have a good time" He rasps, lying on his back. He's waiting for you, holding your hand.

You just nod as you shoot him a smile, grabbing the condom from the nightstand. You crawl back, legs on each side of his outer thighs, a thundering feeling coursing through your veins until it reaches your stomach. You don't know how you don't feel shy or embarrassed of being completely naked for him, but he doesn't either. You hold his cock, stroking him gently a few times, swiping off the liquid from his tip down to his shaft. He buckles his hips upwards in response, cursing through his teeth.

You wrap him and, before you even sit on top of him, you take in his body. The way he lies pretty for you, the way his chest looks good from that angle. Your hands roam through his body, your fingertips slithering over his tattoos. You can see the way he hairs on his skin all stand up from your touch.

"You're so beautiful, Eddie. So gorgeous" You whisper to him, memorizing every inch of his body.

He's mesmerized, he watches you from that position and all he wants to do is spend his life like that. "You're too beautiful, love. You're a sight to sore eyes."

His grin grows wide when you shy away. One of your hands slips down his torso until it reaches his cock again. He throws his hair back and inhales painfully. You line yourself above him, guiding his tip through your folds, rubbing it against your clit. You bite your lower lip from the contact and his hands hold your waist for leverage. You slowly start sinking, your cunt enveloping his hardness entirely until he's deep into your walls.

Your jaw goes slack and you can't hold back the moan that leaves your lips. He can't keep his eyes open, mouth agape as well. "Fuck that's so good, baby." His voice drops an octave and his tone becomes husky, and you clench around him at the sound of it.

You start to move your hips back and forth, eyes trained at him all the time. Your palms are flat against his chest, while he digs his nails on your skin. One thing you've come to love about it, is the way he doesn't care he's being vocal. He praises you the entire time, he keeps his voice low so only you can hear it. Eddie brings you forward, your body leaning against his chest. He snakes both arms around you and holds your waist firmly. It brings you closer to him, it makes you feel different sensations.

He starts pounding on you, ripping off a gasp from you as you bury your face against his shoulder. It muffles your whining and your moaning. He pumps inside of you, the tip of his cock hitting your walls as you clench again. The more you do it, the more excited he gets.

"You're too fucking good, love. Taking me so well, God" He whispers over your ear, one of his hands coming up to grab a fistful of your hair as he pulls it hard just like you did.

You jolt your head back, barely keeping your eyes open, while looking at him through hazy eyes. Your crying fills the air along with the slapping sound of his hip against your ass. "Fuck, Eddie. Just like that."

"I want you to come for me, baby. Please, I'm gonna cum" He's desperate, almost panting. His fingers dig deeper into your skin as his cock is rock hard.

You start to roll your hips around him, your eyes meet the back of your head one more time. Eddie moans your name, heaving sweet nothings as he feels the coil about to snap inside of him. He drops his hands to squeeze your ass, thrusting upwards to meet you in the middle.

You're the first to feel the dizzying apex as your toes curl and your fingers squeeze his chest. Your pussy throbs around his cock, clenching as you feel your blood pressure rise. Your pulse is beating too fast, and you're mumbling incoherent words. Your hips stutter and you can't move as you cum around Eddie, who's about to sputter into his condom.

"Jesus– Fuc– Shit" He curses through the dazed orgasm. His cock twitches inside of you, jolting an electricity that crosses his veins. His eyes flutter shut, while he waits for his high to come down.

You smile at him, even though he doesn't see it. You're both a mess of panting and sweat, trapped into each other. You still ride him out of his orgasm and he jumps with the overstimulation.

"God, don't do that" Eddie whines when you freeze on your spot and giggle at him. "It hurts. Jesus, baby."

You can't get over the pet name. He calls you that 98% of the time and you love it.

You stay sat on him, feeling your body limp. He's becoming soft after a couple of minutes like that and you both hiss when you pull yourself up. He finds the towel to wrap it around his waist and disappears only for a few seconds before walking to the bed with a paper towel. The aftercare makes your heart flutter. It's even more sweet when he glances at you with a lopsided smile. His bangs are tousled and sticking to his forehead. He flops onto the bed close to you, handing you a shirt and your bikini bottom.

When you're finally dressed, he spoons you. His head leans on the crook of your neck and you can feel he's breathing evenly.

"You know" He speaks up, fingers slipping between yours "I knew I loved you when you said you wanted to help Wayne with the steps of the trailer. My old man thought you and I had something going on that day."

You grin widely at the memory. You were at his place just to pick up your phone charger, but Eddie was busy in the bathroom at the same time his uncle had to leave to run a few errands. You helped him walk down the steps because he had issues with them, just like the stairs. His hip problem prevented him from doing simple things like that.

"And then when you wanted to watch us play D&D. After we started spending more time together, I noticed how nervous I would get around you. And one day Steve told me about the difference between being in love and loving someone. You can't have either sometimes, and I realized I had both."

Don't you give up, nah, nah, nah

I won't give up, nah, nah, nah

Let me love you

Let me love you

He scooted even closer to you "I remember that day. When they flew right at me. The look of fear in your eyes. I was afraid of losing you too. I was afraid of you losing me."

You could hear the wavering in his voice "Eddie, I thought I lost you right there."

He squeezed you tighter "I saw the way you ran. The way you tried to make me stay awake. I almost said it, the way I wished I could've always said. Not just a simple 'I love you'."

You move your head to the side, turning over to try and look at him.

"You're it for me, birdie. I love you so much. I've always loved you and always you. And I'm so glad I have met you. You're my angel."

Your stomach twists to a tight knot at the revelation. You loved him too. You were never able to say it the way you should've said long before either. Because you do.

"I love you too, Eds. Love you like I never did before."

"Thank you for showing up in my life. Wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"I think Steve and Robin would be very offended if they heard you" You chuckle as you turn on your side to fully face him.

"Think they're going to be pissed at me and you either way after tonight."

You open your mouth and he laughs at the way your features display some sort of desperation "You think they heard us?"

"I think even the trees heard us, sweetheart."

You slap him on the shoulder, watching him hold back the loudest cackle he wanted to let out. "I'm kidding, jeez. You're so mean when you're not riding me."

He shields himself with his pillow when you straighten up to hit him with another slap. "What's wrong with you? We're not fifteen."

"I'm just kidding! God help me when you're in a bad mood."

"I'm never in a bad mood."

"Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror when you're on your period?" You almost choke on your own spit at the statement.

"How did we manage to change the topic so fast?"

He laughs when you giggle and you both share a look.

"We've always shared the same vibe, baby. Dark humor, good taste in music and shit. I just had to recover before I was ready. And I'm glad you waited."

He swipes a strand of hair out of your face, pulling it behind your ear. His fingers slither down, reaching your jawline. Your hand wraps around his wrist, thumb stroking his skin.

"I would always wait for you, Munson."

Eddie blushes. It's one of the most sweet and genuine reactions. He purses his lips when he smiles.

He never believed someone could love him, never believed anyone would see him the way you do. And if you had to save him, you would do it all over again. As many times as you needed.

You two shower - not together - and get on his bed. Legs tangled and lazy kisses. He holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your neck as he holds his phone up for both of you. He scrolls through pictures and videos. They're from before Vecna, and it's the first time he's showing you everything he registered. From moments like those when you would all get together, to dull things like his D&D campaigns, rehearsals with his Corroded Coffin band mates and picnic with your friends at Lovers Lake.

There's one picture you love the most. It's one of you two dressed as Steve and Robin when they used to work at Scoops Ahoy. You were at the halloween party Nancy threw at her house almost two years ago. It made your friends lose their shit and the former employees shared an amused look back in the day.

Don't you give up, nah, nah, nah

I won't give up, nah, nah, nah

Let me love you

Let me love you

He's not afraid to go through the pictures and videos of stuff you found about Vecna. He's not even sure how his phone still survived everything. There was no signal between Upside Down and Hawkins. It didn't even work when it was near a gate.

But now, as he faces his smartphone, feeling your warmth beside him, he can't help but feel good he's still alive. He pressed his lips against your forehead and whispered that he loves you.

He likes to think that, a year ago, things changed for the better.