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darknight3904 · 2 months ago

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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵. 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥/𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 30𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.2 𝘬

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 / 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You're stunned as Logan gently pushes you away from him. Did he truly not feel anything?

"Don't give me that look." He sighs, "It's your fault. You screwed up. I said no attachment, you agreed."

You can feel hot tears beginning to blind your vision as you take your finger and point into his chest.

"Tell me you feel nothing," You dare him, "Tell me, Logan."

A deep sigh leaves his lips and he pushes your hand away from his broad chest.

"I don't, okay. Let me spell it out for you," He leans down so he's closer to eye level with you, "I. Don't have any feelings for you. The past three months have been nothing but casual for me. Just like we agreed."

You can't look at him as your tears begin to fall down your face. It was like he was devoid of all emotions, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Here come the waterworks." He groans, "I can't do this today. Come find me once you've pulled yourself together."

You watch as he turns to leave your room. Your anger begins to boil over when his hand reaches the door knob. How dare he think he could get away with treating you like this?

Satisfaction slithers up your spine like a snake as you focus on Logan's blood, pinning him up against the door.

"Put me down." He growls as you walk up to him

"No," You smile, you were going to make this hurt. After all, he deserved it.

"If you're going to puke, at least stand near the trash can."

"What?" You ask, your daydreams were becoming too realistic.

"You've got this sour look on your face. Like you want to hurl whatever you ate for breakfast." Matt says, pushing you towards the trash can behind the counter.

"I'm not going to puke. Just remembered something." You say

"Is it all the alcohol you drank?" Matt teases

"No." You groan, "Where even were you last night? You said you were coming and then bailed. I got stuck with Logan of all people while Wade and Vanessa ate each other's faces off."

"If you must know, I bailed on you for a hot date." Matt brags, "And for the record Logan is perfect for you. Not my fault you can't see that."

"He is not perfect for me." You say, "Spill the details on the date though."

"He's hotter than the sun." Matt sighs

"Yeah right." You scoff, "As if a man like that even exists."

Matt tells you you're a fool and fishes his phone out of his worn out jeans. Leaning across the counter, he pulls up a photo from this mystery man's Hinge.

Alright. Maybe Matt was right about the hotness level of this mystery man.

Your eyes widened as you took this guy in. Dark brown hair sat atop his head, complimented by just the right amount of scruff on his face and big brown eyes that just pulled you in. You swipe through the photos slowly, this must've been the peak of human evolution. Seriously he even looked good sweaty, after a 5k.

"And what's this guy's name?" You ask

"Johnathan." Matt sighs dreamily, "He's even got an accent."

Your eyebrows shoot up your face, if this was a comic book, you'd look ridiculous right now.

"He's from the U.K." Matt explains

"I love accents." You sigh, "British ones are so amazing."

"If you were to land someone with an accent, I feel like an Australian one would suit you better." Matt says

"The last time I met an Australian, he was performing in some Broadway musical. Music boy...no, Music Man." You hum

"How did you meet a Broadway Star?" Matt asks

"Oh, I almost hit him with that car I share with Wade." You explain

"You mean the shitty Honda he bought?" Matt asks

"Yup." You say, "Anyway after I almost ran him over, I offered to buy him dinner as an apology. He was a good sport about it at least. Didn't sue me."

"You literally could've had a rom-com-level romance with this man, and you let him go." Matt scolds you

"He wasn't into me." You shake your head

"How do you know that?" He points out, "Did you even get his name?"

"Uh yeah, it was like...Howard or something."

Matt's nose scrunches up, "That's on the list of unmoanable names for me."

"No wait, it was Hugh." You say, snapping your fingers in memory

"Alright, that's a bit better," Matt admits

The sound of the front door opening has both of you straightening up.

"Who has an unmoanable name?"

Wade.

"What're you doing here?" You ask as he welcomes himself.

"Can't I come to see my favorite roomie on my lunch break?" Wade asks

"You're lying. Your favorite roommate is Dogpool." You point out as Wade stands in front of you

"And don't you forget it." He chimes, reaching out to flick your forehead, "So how was last night after we left?"

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. You were almost certain Wade was up to something. He never visited on his lunch break unless Peter needed to buy a new book to read. You took in his stance, overly relaxed, leaning over the counter, chatting Matt up, commending him on getting a second date with Johnathan. Yes, Wade Wilson was most certainly plotting something.

"Last night was fine." You say blandly

"Just fine?" Wade asks, his smile dropping, "Give me details, girl."

"Yeah, what was your night like with Logannnnn?" Matt teases

Wade gives Matt a high five and you want to rip your toupee-wearing friend limb from limb. Of course, with Matt here, you'll have to stay on your best behavior.

"We just drank a bit and then headed back to the apartment."

You couldn't admit that you barely remembered past the Taco Bell visit from last night. Seriously, the way your mutation delayed the effects of alcohol was horrible. Anything you drank took way longer than a normal person to affect you.

"I bought him a Crunchwrap." You say

"She is totally bullshitting us." Wade giggles, "Laura heard like, your entire conversation with him. That kid of yours has some crazy good hearing."

"You have a kid?!" Matt shrieks in shock

"What? No!" You groan, "She's a metaphorical one. Adoptive I guess is the best way to put it. But I don't like to talk about that, Wade."

Your glare could've turned him to stone as Wade avoided your gaze, sensing he was in trouble.

"Oh. For a second I thought you were hiding some double life from me." Matt laughs

"Double life? Oh just wait, buddy. Pumpkin here? She's an X-ma-"

You slap your hand over Wade's mouth and hiss at him to shut up. Seriously why was he always running his mouth?

"I was an X-Man for Halloween last year." You smile

"Which one?" Matt asks

"Uh, Storm. Bought a wig and everything." You lie.

The wet feel of Wade's tongue has you recoiling in disgust as you pull your hand back. There was something seriously wrong with this guy.

"Nice right? My spit? It's warm. Like a baby blanket from my mouth."

"That's gross." Matt says, "If you excuse me, I need to restock Historical Fiction. Don't uh...lick her anymore, Wade."

Wade waves goodbye to Matt as he disappears into the shelves of the store.

"Whose gonna tell him he's going out with a Viscount? I mean that guy in his phone was totally Anthony Bridgerton!"

"Are you just here to see if my story matches Laura's?" You ask him

"No! I'm also here to bring you lunch."

Wade tosses a brown paper bag on the counter. You pull it open, unimpressed at the contents.

"This is a half-eaten sandwich I made for you this morning."

"And I saved you some. Call me Mother Teresa the way I'm ministering to the less fortunate. "

You sigh and rub your temples. Wade was wildly annoying today. It was like getting laid had him extra dialed up. You thought Vanessa might've calmed him down, yet here he was, driving you nuts.

The cold breeze of the night felt good around his body as Logan lay on the roof of the building. He had made his artful escape while Wade nearly blew the kitchen up trying to cook Alfredo. You had rushed over with Laura to help him put the fire out as he panicked. Logan took that as his cue to sneak out of the apartment, Jack Daniels in one hand, and a cigar in his other.

It was much more peaceful here, staring up at the light-polluted sky of New York. Cigar dangling between his lips he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the city below him. He concluded that you must've gotten the fire under control, after all, the building was still standing.

You were so good at everything you did, it annoyed him.

He thought back to how he promised Laura he'd try to get along with you better. He feels rather victorious, he has definitely held up his promise. The two of you had gone all day today without arguing. Sure, you had been at work most of the day, but he counted that as a victory.

Logan wondered if you remembered anything from last night. What you had shared, what he had shared, it was all so heavy. You had avoided him this morning but after your shift at the bookstore, you had returned home and tossed a donut from some bakery onto his lap.

"Thanks for getting me home last night."

Was that all you remembered?

Even though he had promised himself he'd ignore whatever his heart was saying to his mind about you, last night had made things so much worse. Or better....He couldn't quite decide yet. All he knew was that you had been dancing in his mind all day today.

Fuck, this was driving him mad. He felt like some schoolboy, crushing on the popular girl who didn't know he existed.

Another long sip of Jack Daniels and a drag of his cigar has him shaking his head, at this rate you were going to keep him up at night.

Through the clouds, Logan can see the moon. It's a half moon tonight, it shines down and casts a bit of light on his pity party. Truly he was pathetic. It was like your name was tattooed across his mind, you were once again becoming everything to him. It scared him, the idea of that happening again. The possibility of losing you loomed like an evil shadow in his mind.

He ran a heavy hand across his face, cursing his mind and his anxiety over things that were out of his control.

"You drunk yet, old man?"

Your voice has him scrambling to sit up as he straightens the old afghan he stole from Al to lay on up here.

"I'm not a lightweight, bub." He says as you approach him, "And for the record, aren't you pretty old yourself?"

"Seventy isn't that bad. Besides, aren't you pushing two hundred? What were the dinosaurs like? You've gotta tell me."

He ignores your jibe as the scent of food hits his nose and he tries to get a glimpse of what you have in your hands.

"Presenting, a gourmet feast of pizza." You introduce as you pass him a paper plate with three slices on it, "Wade burned the food so bad he set the fire alarm off."

"Figures." Logan snorts as he motions for you to sit beside him, your own plate piled with pizza.

He eats in silence beside you, unsure of what to say. You had been so vulnerable with him last night, he didn't want to let something slip he wasn't supposed to know.

"Are you stargazing?" You ask

"No." He says, "Came up here to escape Wade's loud mouth and bad food."

You hum in acknowledgment, "Too bad, I like star gazing."

"Really?" Logan asks, this is different. In his universe, you had hated being outside. Just the idea of a bug being near you had you shuddering in fear. He'd never catch you laying in the grass just for stars.

"Yeah, when I first got brought to the school, I used to stay up late with Raven and Stargaze on the lawn until Charles caught us. He'd yell at her and tell her teenagers needed to sleep so their minds could develop." You explain

"Sounds like something he'd say. He tell you your mind is like a muscle?" Logan asks

"Of course he did." You laugh

The cool October breeze blows your hair back from your face and Logan feels his chest tightening. You are truly breathtaking.

"How'd you end up in The Void?" He asks, pivoting the conversation so he's not so distracted by your looks.

"It's a boring story. The TVA showed up one day and told me my universe was on the way out. Two seconds later I'm pruned, standing in front of a giant 20th Century Fox logo." You say

Logan nods, it really wasn't all that interesting. At least not like his, getting picked up by Wade like some cheap date and then getting sent there by that Paradox guy.

"What do you think of Laura?" You ask as you take another bite of your food.

"She could use a better attitude," Logan says truthfully

"Doesn't she just...have your attitude?" You ask

"I'm not that moody. She skulks around the apartment sometimes like some....homeless cat." Logan defends himself, how dare you think he was like a moody teen?

"Oh please," You scoff, "What do you call this then? Hiding from all the commotion, in the dark, alone."

"Not hiding. I'm relaxing. There's a difference." He points out

"Yeah, okay." You laugh

It's music to his ears as he listens to you laugh at him. He'd gladly make a fool of himself every damn day if it meant he'd hear that more often.

"I think she's lonely." You say

"I thought she was friends with that kid from her school. Ellie or something?" Logan said

"Ellie is the name of a video game character from that survival game Wade plays." You say, "Laura's friends with some girl named Brooke."

"Oh," Logan says, he never was good with some names.

"I meant lonely in...in the familial sense." You say hesitantly

"I guess so." Logan sighs

Well, that wrapped up that haunch of his. He'd been thinking that for awhile now. Laura was always hovering whenever he and you were interacting. Like some little shadow who just observed everything.

"What do you know about her version of us?" You ask

"Not much. Just that they were in some relationship. And that they died to get her to Canada." Logan says

You slowly nod next to him, "She mentioned once that I taught her how to floss correctly."

"Oral hygiene. It's important." Logan jokes

"Alright, asshole." You groan, shoving him by the shoulder, "She didn't say anything about that universe's you teaching her any life skills, so it looks like I won."

"Won what?" Logan scoffs, taking a drawl of cigar

"The better parent award." You say it as if it's obvious

"Oh really? She's only here cuz of me." He boasts

"It wasn't even you who created her. That other Logan did. Or well, his genes did."

Logan rolls his eyes and lets himself fall back onto the blanket. The empty night sky stares back at him as you join in, laying down next to him.

"Do you think we can help her? Feel less lonely that is." You ask quietly

"Yeah, I'm sure we can do something about that, bub."

Logan watches curiously as you squint your eyes next to him. What were you trying to spot? A passing plane? A stray bird?

"What're you looking for?" He asks

"Stars. Remember I said I like to star gaze?" You remind him

"You're not gonna see any here. Light pollution." He motions to the buildings around the two of you.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." You sigh, "The stars remind me of home."

"The school? Thought you didn't like it there. Didn't that asshole ruin it for you?" Logan asks

"No, stars remind me of peace and...What are you...oh my god." You groan next to him, hiding your face in your hands

Logan wonders what you're upset about now. All he said was...oh right, he wasn't supposed to know about all that. He internally cringes, there was no going back now

"Is that why Wade was asking me about last night? You told him about whatever I said about my universe's Logan while drunk?" You angrily sit up, looking down at him.

"No!" Logan defends himself, "It wasn't me. Must've been Laura!"

"You're blaming a teenager?" You judge him

He shakes his head again, as he sits up next to you. You have a thoughtful look on your face like you're replaying your day.

"Alright, you're off the hook. Wade said something about Laura earlier. You're lucky." You say

Logan doesn't entirely like the look in your eye. He can't tell what you're thinking as you pick at the threads in the blanket the two of you sit in.

"So what'd I say?" You ask

"Nothing really." He lies

You deliver a hard punch to his upper arm, "Tell me or I send your ass flying off this building."

"Just my ass?" Logan asks smartly.

You raise your hand to him, ready to use that blood manipulation of yours but Logan speaks before you can.

"Alright, alright, calm down. I'll talk." He laughs, taking your hand in his bigger one

"You talked about how this Logan of yours was a brainless loser. Said you fell in love with him and he didn't reciprocate those feelings."

You nod and then look into his eyes, away from where your hands were joined in his lap.

"How do you know he was brainless? He's another version of you."

A soft chuckle leaves his lips, "You might have the worst personality in this universe but even I'm not that blind."

"Blind to what?" You ask

"You, my dear, are absolutely stunning."

"Oh, please." You scoff, regrettably pulling your hand away from his. His skin feels numb without yours there to keep it warm.

"I mean it, that Logan must've been half blind or stupid. Maybe a bit of both." He declares

He's pushing his luck here, saying all this. In an instant, he could be a red stain on the concrete. But he wants you to know all this. You have to know this.

"Logan, has anyone ever told you you're a hopeless romantic?"

"You're the first." He smiles

"I didn't do anything embarrassing right? I remember forcing you to eat that Crunchwrap in the Uber."

"If you don't take a bite I'll shove it so far up your ass that-"

"I'm eating it, see?!"

Logan thinks back over last night. He decides he won't tell you about your stripper moment in the bathroom, that would probably be mortifyingly embarrassing for both him and you.

The shy kiss you had placed on his cheek just before bed bounced around in his mind. He swore his skin was still tingling there even now. You truly had him wrapped around your finger. Technically the right thing to do was to tell you, and in this situation, he should've done the right thing.

"No, nothing comes to mind."

Chapter Five

The other Logan and Reader's relationship is based on the songs Casual by Chappell Roan and Say Don't Go by Taylor Swift.

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479 notes · View notes

dontbesoweirdkira · 21 days ago

Note

Okay, so, the ask about yandere platonic dick cheating and how the reader would react has me wondering; what would happen if the reader somehow found out that Dick didn't actually change and decided to go no contact, because they couldn't trust him or maybe because they just don't want to be around someone like that? Would that cause Dick to spiral more? What exactly would be the consequences of going no contact? (Like a complete cut off, although it'd be a bit hard to do that since they live in the same house)

(I was a bit disappointed to read that he probably wouldn't change, but it seemed realistic to me because habits are hard to break and everyone in the batfam is messed up. Although, I imagine after years of therapy or something similar there might be some sort of change. But, I doubt anyone in the batfam is getting therapy... except maybe reader)

Sorry yeah, i don't like to think Dick is actually a cheater or this shitty. I just like to humor different scenarios i get requested. But you cannot deny that this man is a messy whore. THIS IS THE FACE OF EVILLL

context

Look, cheaters are so sloppy. Even the ones who put the most effort into it are always bound to slip up. I imagine batsis isn't a fool. Like Richard...no way did you just go from being a serial cheater to suddenly being completely cleansed. You're an addict baby boy.

Like i said at first he's actually wanting to get clean for his baby sis and to be a good role model. I think it'd be very obvious to you that he's actually trying. He's irritable and really struggling to cope with the fact he has to put the phone down. You can see him obsessively checking his phone for what you'd assume to be a message or notification from one of his hookups. You can tell he's torn up about loosing his partners because he came clean about his unethical practices....

There's no hiding. This is such a deep seeded issue and it is really taking a toll on him. This is something like you said will need YEARS of therapy to fix.

So now Dick is trying to bullshit you a few days later...right in front of your salad! He's just sooo happy and he's proud about this new leaf turned????? Yesterday he looked like he was about to breakdown in tears because he'd been abstinent for just 48 hrs...and now he's glowing???

Dick, your patrol ended at 2 am last night...you came home at 6 am...please don't play with me rn.

not me getting heated. lol

He doesn't explicitly tell you he's back to his old ways. He's willing to keep lying his way into keeping you and this habit but it's undeniable. You know that his gf only forgave him because he lied to her too. It makes you sick when you saw the text of him telling her that he's busy with family and then left out for the rest of the day to go be with someone else.

Maybe you explode on him about it? Last time you were as nice as you could be about it but you cannot deal with the games anymore.

I liked to think in this scenario you're yelling at him and he's just still gas-lighting you, He throws every card to make you feel bad for accusing him. It absolute drives you mad. He's just so calm while you're are trying not to strangle him.

"Baby bat, i love you. I think you're just tired and are imagining things. You're convincing yourself that i'm still the old Dick because you're hurting...i understand and I forgive you. Maybe we should set up therapy sessions to help you let go of the past? Hmm?"

"YOU MOTHER FU-"

Ugh but i love him he's so fucked

The irony of him suggesting you therapy when he's the one riddles with mommy issues and the most insane coping mechanisms...

Dick isn't going to allow you to go no contact. You cannot go no contact with someone you live in the same house with. You are bound to interact and when you are dealing with someone like dick...it just won't work. The bat kids are extremely resilient and are well versed in making someone crack. You wouldn't be the exception.

More realistically you'd probably just be cold towards Dick. That's the best you can do. Not really responding to him and basically stone walling...

But i imagine this version of Dick to be much more forceful. He's done with your self righteousness. How dare you suggest moving out. That isn't an option because he needs to see his baby sister everyday. You are breaking up the family over this. You cannot cut him off because he's flawed...it's not that serious y/n. None of the other siblings are breathing down his neck. Maybe if you weren't so frustrating..he could actually become a better person. You are the one that is preventing him from being better with all your pressure!!

You packed your bags and are fully ready to walk out of this family for good because there's just too many wrong doings swept under the rug and here comes dick who is FUMING... He's trying to rip your bags out of your hands and grab you up..

You are not doing this to him. Stop being so-

Maybe your siblings step in and help you to leave. They help Dick calm down because they respect that it's your choice to live how you'd life.

Dick isn't stopping once you're gone. Especially if you're still in Gotham. There's a shadow that follows you where you go. Tons of messages and calls from unknown numbers. Even scarily enough..a blue toy bird left at your door with a small note that read

"Missed me, my little birdie? We'll be seeing each other again soon."

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

Note

I love all the things you write for the bat boys! So it just makes me wonder, how would the bat boys react to their partner doing the thing from tiktok where they’re all like “My boyfriend just told me he doesn’t love me anymore” all bc they told them that they couldn’t shop on Amazon anymore? 😂😂😂

I dunno what this was tbh.

Jason

Raises his brow at you the moment you say this, unamused. ‘Says the one who’s spending unnecessary amounts of money on 50cm plushies.’ He retorts.

You huffed as you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘Could’ve fooled me.’ You really wanted that 50cm hello kitty plush but Jason had to pull you away from doing so unfairly.

Jason groaned as he knelt in front of you. ‘Sweetheart, if I could I would give you all the plushies your heart desires, but you’ve got to think we’ve got limited living space and besides you were bound to get annoyed with how much space they take up sooner or later. I’m doing this for us, okay?’ He said as he searched your eyes.

You started at him for a bit before relaxing your arms. ‘Okay.’ You murmured.

Jason smiled, ‘do you take back your statement about me not loving you?’ He asked.

‘I guess.’ You replied, still not looking at him but Jason brought his hand to your chin and gently moved it so that you were stuck staring at him as he smiled at you sweetly. ‘I’ll ask again, do you take back the statement that I don’t love you?’

‘Yes, I take it back.’ You said louder this time. ‘I take back my statement that you don’t love me, I was being dramatic and I’m sorry that’s I’d ever say anything bad about me sweet, handsome man.’ You added when Jason didn’t think you were being honest and decided to butter him up with flattery.

Jason chuckled as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘Flatter won’t get you anywhere sweetheart but I appreciate the attempt, I’ll buy you a plushy for being good as long as you don’t spout such nonsense.’ He hums as he pressed a kiss to your nose before one more against your lips.

‘I promise.’ You said as you closed your eyes, knowing well enough that you could never say such things again when he treated you with nothing but love, respect and willingness to compromise. That and you could never stay mad at him for too long, you didn’t have the heart to.

Dick pouts but still stands strong on his stance.

‘I do love you baby but this has become an addiction, I’m only trying to save you the embarrassment from having your card decline for insufficient funds.’ Dick tells you as though he was helping you break a shitty habit, which you guess he was, but it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t help but buy that one plushy! It looked so lonely and you wanted to give it a home!

‘But, but-‘

‘No buts.’ Dick replied sternly. ‘The plushy would’ve found a better home with that kid that came into the store after us,’ he then squeezed your hand reassuringly, ‘besides i don’t think you really want to Hayley to get to them.’

You winced thinking about how the poor plushies would get torn apart within seconds if Hayley found them, which is why you kept all of your plushies elsewhere while getting Hayley her how set of toys, was it a bit much? Yeah but if it was to make your sweet puppy happy then you’d more than willingly go bankrupt for her just to see her little happy paw tippy taps. ‘I guess you’re right.’ You admitted defeatedly.

‘You hurt my heart when you said I didn’t love you anymore.’ Dick feels you and he brought your hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat. ‘You know I love you more than anything, so please don’t go hurting my heart for the sole purpose of loving you without fail.’ You couldn’t help but internally coo at his words and know that realistically he was looking out for you, so you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed with how dramatic you are being, especially over something that you could easily get when Dick wasn’t looking.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him after all.

‘I’m sorry, what can I do to make it up to you.’ You asked as you looked into his pretty eyes.

‘Since you’re offering Preferably some cuddles, kisses and even more kisses from the most beautiful person I know.’ Dick said with a cheeky smile on his face, the little shit had been planning this the entire time, the conniving little fucker and you fell for his trap without much difficulty. And now you were stuck coddling this smug man as he patted himself on the back for getting back at you for being dramatic over some plushy that he may or may not have bought you already.

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stevesherdaddynowlover · 5 months ago

Text

we took a polaroid picture [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii just a little something because i was bored and thinking about steve harrington, shocker! hope you enjoy :)

masterlist

summary: you're steve's girl and he loves to show off the polaroid of you he carries in his wallet. but he also has a few he keeps for himself...just himself. (steve harrington x fem!reader)

warnings: cursing, illusions to sex and m masturbation but not really detailed descriptions, naked pics of reader taken with consent, little smutty but not much 18+ MDNI!!!

wc: 1.7k

Steve had a polaroid of you in his wallet.

It was you in a pale yellow sundress that made Steve’s mouth water as it flowed against your tan skin. You’re sitting in a field against a red checkered blanket with your eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back as you laughed at something Steve had said. A perfect strawberry pinched between your fingers and drops of the sweet red juice on your chest and fingers from the bite you’d taken. It was beautiful, perfect even. He kept it tucked away but would pull it out at any given chance to show anyone that would look how beautiful his girl was.

At the grocery store? He brought it out at checkout or in the produce aisle to show some teenage cashier who couldn’t care less or some kid restocking who looked at Steve with an eye roll before turning back to his job. He could be walking down the street or out to eat with his friends and if someone said hello or made polite conversation he was tugging his wallet out of his back pocket, whoever he was with letting out a small sigh as he grinned proudly and showed you off. It was cute. Steve was cute.

Now it wasn’t the only polaroid he had of you, but it was definitely the only one he showed off.

Under his bed in a pretty pink envelope that had been sealed with your lipstick print was a stack of polaroids that made his cheeks burn and his chest hurt from how pretty you looked. He had brought it up one day, more as an incoherent mumbling when he was inside of you, but the idea had stuck with you and the more you thought about it, the more you decided you wanted it.

Steve hadn’t thought about it since that night, so it’s a surprise when he’s standing in his kitchen, chopping vegetables for your date night dinner when out of nowhere you bring it up again.

“Stevie?”

A noncommittal hum left him, too focused on not chopping his fingers off while he worried that the sauce might be burning or the pasta would overcook. “Yeah, baby?”

You weren’t sure why you felt nervous, this was his idea! And realistically you knew that there’s no way he’d ever say no but still a part of you was hesitant. “Remember the other night when you said you wanted to take pictures of me…just for us to see…”

He’s lucky he didn’t lose a finger with the way his hands faltered, back straightening and eyes flying toward you to make sure he wasn’t making this up in his head. “I, uh, I do remember that, yeah,” clearing his throat he put the knife down and walked around to stand between your legs that were open and dangling over the kitchen counter, “that’s something you want, baby? For me to take some pictures of you all fucked out pretty?”

God how did he get so fucking lucky? He had been with girls before, had been in love before, but nothing could have ever prepared him for you. Everyone in Hawkins fawned over you, the sweet, innocent little girl who wouldn’t hurt a fly and left a trail of fucking glitter and rainbows in he wake.

But Steve knew better. You had him fooled at first, all shy smiles and red cheeks when he’d so much as look at you. It didn’t take long for him to figure you out. It was only a few months before you’d be in his ear at cookouts begging for him to take you to the bathroom so you could suck him off. You were the princess of Hawkins but at night you’d call him late at night when your families were sleeping and have him listen as you touched yourself to all the things he’d ever said or done to you, little pleas and whines leaving your lips as he listened on the other end of the line with his cock hard and eyes squeezed shut.

And now here you were, in his kitchen with that look in your eyes as you asked him to take pictures of you naked, fucked out on his cock or his fingers or his mouth. Please god let it be his mouth.

That was a few months ago and it was the best fucking thing Steve had ever done, the best thing you had ever done. He felt like a horny teenage boy the way he’d reach under his bed for that envelope. He’d grab it after spending the day with you, when he missed you, fuck even when he had you underneath him in his bed.

Today had been a great day with you. He’d woken up with you wrapped around him and had breakfast in bed, you’ve insisted that you didn’t count as breakfast but he refused to hear it, and the rest of the day was spent watching movies and eating junk food and making out so much his lips were swollen and swore.

You couldn’t stay with him tonight and after being pressed up against you all day he didn’t have any choice but to pull out the pictures of you, his pretty girl.

It was hard to focus on what he was doing, looking at you made it difficult for him to do much of anything these days. He remembers when each one was taken and it makes his hands twitch at his sides instinctively, wishing you were here to hold onto.

The first one is…innocent enough. You sprawled out in the middle of his bed with his favorite t-shirt raised high enough to show a sliver of your tummy and the hem of those goddamn lilac panties that make his head spin. No bra underneath, he’d never forget that and even if he did your pebbled nipples straining against his shirt would remind him. �� You’ve got a sly smile, bottom lip between your teeth as he stands over you and has you pose for him. He swears your eyes fucking sparkle looking at him like that.

The second one is far less innocent, his tummy clenching as he stares down at you, literally stares down because in this one you’re sitting on your knees in front of him. All that’s visible of him is his cock, hard and aching like it always is around you, and his spread thighs you’ve fitted yourself between. You’ve got one hand wrapped around his cock, the other shows your fingers digging into his thighs. What really gets him is that face of yours. Your head is cocked to the side, cheek squished against his thigh and a smirk on your face as you look up at him with those fuck me eyes that only you can do. He remembers how he felt, how he was panting above you and begging for your mouth like his life depended on it.

“Please please please, baby. I’ll do anything, anything you want I swear on my fuckin’ life. M’all yours just please let me have that pretty mouth, i need it, need you bad.”

He doesn’t remember when he wrapped a fist around his cock or when his hips started thrusting up, lifting off the bed so urgently it shocked him. He doesn’t remember anything or anyone but you and all he knows is he won’t even get to look at the other pictures tonight because this one, this one is his favorite. It’s hidden in the middle of the stack and he can’t help but smile, knowing you moved it from its spot at the back. You know he won’t last once he sees it and he’d laugh if he wasn’t throbbing so hard and a deep moan wasn’t clawing its way up his throat.

His favorite picture, his favorite girl. This one is you on your back, shirt gone and tits held between your hands. Your nipples are peaking through your fingers and it makes him whine in the back of his throat. Prettiest fuckin’ tits he’s ever seen. His eyes move lower, one of his hands gripping onto the soft curve of your hip, he remembers you had little fingerprint bruises there for a week or so and it drove you both fucking crazy. The other hand is holding the camera, doing his best not to drop it on you but it’s so hard when you’re looking at him like that and saying the things you were saying…

“Please, Stevie…put it in, just the tip please. I want a picture of it, I need it, please. I’ll be good, promise, won’t move or anything. I just need you.”

And who was he to tell you no? Especially when you begged so pretty and asked so nicely. “Fuck, ‘course, of course. Anything for you, I'd do anything. You’re my girl, yeah? My good, pretty girl.” It’s hard for him to make sense or think with his cock that close to your dripping cunt, all red and swollen and begging for him.

He moves past your hips, looking to where the tip of his cock was pressing into you, pushing in with no resistance because you had planned this. Had planned to beg and plead with him for this picture and the idea had turned you on so much you were dripping.

That was what did it, looking at you all spread out, taking his cock with that smirk on your face and your tits out for him to drool over. His stomach and hand now covered in his cum, head laying back on his pillow and even though he’s sweaty, curls sticking to the back of his neck and his chest is heaving from cumming so hard his vision is blurry, he can’t help but smile.

You’ll giggle and tease him tomorrow when he tells you he only made it through three of the pictures, giving you a playful smack on your ass for sticking his favorite in the middle of the stack, and he won’t care about that teasing because if you’re smiling and happy, nothing else matters to him.

Plus he can always save the rest for a rainy day, or tomorrow.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

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his tongue 👅

YES. This man and his tongue.

What That Tongue Do?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't get why you're attracted to an actor who plays him in another world, but he's happy to remind you what his tongue can do. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Multiverse discussion, Sebastian Stan and his tongue, d/irty talk, implied o/ral (f. and m. receiving), jealousy, humor, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: It's Sebastian Stan's birthday and this is my take on Bucky discovering his existence. And for the Bucks and Noble server, a quick position mention. Hehe. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I don’t like him.”

You chortled as you turned in your chair to face Bucky, amusement twinkling in your eyes as his nostrils flared. “Why don’t you like him? That’s you. Well. Kind of. His name is Sebastian Stan.”

Bucky honestly couldn’t remember at this point if Tony had played around with something or if Wanda joined in and tampered with an experiment, but the monitors showcased what they were told were different versions of themselves in various worlds and dimensions. And you, his girlfriend, zeroed in on the screen where some punk who admittedly looked similar to him couldn’t stop showing his tongue and licking his lips.

Everyone else left quickly after that.

Does this guy have an oral fixation or is he a slut? Not that I would shame him if he is, but I don’t like how you keep looking at it.

“That is not me,” he stated, crossing his arms with a defiant glare. Had it been his old metal arm instead of the upgraded vibranium one, the distinct “whir” sound would’ve filled the room from how hard he clenched his fingers. “He’s a punk.”

“Steve is a punk. Seb is an actor,” you corrected him.

“Oh, it’s ‘Seb’ now. The punk has a nickname.”

“He is not a punk,” you giggled, the sound bringing a small smile to his face before he raised a lip at the screen.

I know punks and he’s a fucking punk. He can’t fool me. He looks shorter than I am. Why does his hair look so good after a fight? That’s not realistic. I have to admit, they got the likeness of the arm pretty close. Wait, do I make those facial expressions? Why are you smiling at his nose crinkle?

“His tongue is out. AGAIN. I swear he’s doing it on purpose,” he snarled when your head whipped back toward the monitor. “Seriously?! You’re looking?!”

“Only because he looks like you, Bucky!” you said innocently, facing him again. There was nothing innocent about it. The moment that guy’s fucking tongue moved, you clenched your thighs together. The only one he wanted you to do that for was him. “And like I didn’t hear you groan when you saw the Earth 314 version of me.”

That is not the same because I don’t love her. I love you.

“Fine. So, he’s an actor,” he grumbled as you got up and did your best to block out the view of the faces behind you. “And he ‘plays’ me?”

“Yeah, he does. In that world, James Buchanan Barnes, and pretty much everyone here that you know, are comic book characters brought to life. He plays you in the movies. Oh, they made a show, too. About you and Sam.”

What kind of world is that?

“Sam and I in a show together? That would never work.”

“It does in their world,” you said, touching his cheek and bringing his attention back to you and your loving smile. “Stop giving the television that death stare, please? Those monitors are shutting down in the next few minutes and we’ll never see those faces again.”

“Please. You think Stark didn’t find a way to keep that Earth’s video on a loop to taunt me at any given moment?”

Things were better between Bucky and Tony after what happened in Siberia, but the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, according to the actor who portrayed him, liked to give him hell from time to time. It was usually in good fun. Usually.

“So, I shouldn’t tell you it’s Sebastian Stan’s birthday today?” you asked, sucking your lips in as you tried not to giggle.

His nostrils flared again as he took a breath. He was a war hero. The former Winter Soldier turned Avenger. He was not about to be jealous of some actor in another dimension that you’d never see. “Why do you know that?”

“Because the information is right there,” you said, pointing over your shoulder. You had the decency to not turn around. “He was born on August 13th, 1982, in Constanta, Romania and he-”

Your eyes widened as Bucky gently shoved two vibranium fingers into your mouth, pushing them deep enough to make you pause. “Stop talking about the man who can’t keep his fucking tongue in his mouth.”

With a moan, you wrapped your mouth tighter around the digits and bobbed your head. You already choked on him once today. Maybe you’d do it again. Seeing that guy with the bright blue eyes though, he wanted to give you a firm reminder of what he could do to you with his tongue.

Why lust after him when you have me to worship you?

“Why do you like it so much?” he asked as his fingers slipped free.

You began to laugh before he tilted your head to kiss your neck, the sound shifting to a moan. “I don’t like his tongue, Bucky. I like yours.”

“Not good enough,” he murmured against your skin, trying to go slow when he was two seconds away from ripping your clothes off and bending you over the console. “I need you to love my tongue.”

“I do,” you whined, palming him through his pants. “Love when you get it nice and deep, just like your cock. Or when you thrust your fingers in and flick my clit with the tip of your tongue. Make me drip until I’m practically a puddle and you still don’t stop.”

“You and that fucking mouth,” he groaned, laying you back as best as he could and sliding your skirt up. The growing stain on your panties made him twitch and he told himself it had nothing to do with the actor who played his part well. It was all him.

“Remember the last time you ate me out?” you asked, biting your lip as he slid your soaked underwear down your legs. As much as he wanted to shove them in your mouth because he loved making you taste yourself, he didn’t want to smother a single sound. “You had me ride your face and it wasn’t enough. You spun me around after the first orgasm and kept your tongue inside when I got my mouth on your cock.”

That position deserves more attention.

“It’s never enough. I always want more,” he said, taking in the glistening lips of your pussy as he glanced down at what belonged to him and licking his lips as he ran a finger along the slit. “If you could eat yourself out, you’d understand why I love being buried between your thighs.”

“I’ll settle for your cock,” you said as he sank to his knees, a shuddering breath leaving your body. “And I’ll also settle for your tongue first.”

“Should make you beg for it,” he said in a low voice, taking a long lick and groaning at your taste. Sweet and a bit tangy, a hint of your essence coating his taste buds and daring him to have more. “Should slap this pretty pussy and remind you exactly who it belongs to.”

“It’s yours. It blelongs to you, Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. No one else,” you said, your hand shooting out to grip his long hair and twist the stands. “Get your tongue or your cock in me. I’m begging you.”

Bucky smirked, watching your hole clench around nothing. He’d fill you up the way you need. “That’s my good girl. Gonna make a mess all over this. Might make you lick it up when we’re finished.”

“Not to interrupt?” Steve’s voice rang out over the room speaker as Bucky gripped your thighs. “But I think the speaker is on and we can kind of hear everything?”

And you’re telling us now?!

“Stark has bet me twenty bucks that your lady will call out Sebastian’s name when you bring her to orgasm,” Thor chimed in. “Just so you know, my friend, I have the utmost faith that you will please her.”

You let go of Bucky’s hair to cover your mouth, your body shaking with laughter when he growled.

Of course, I fucking will.

“Make it forty bucks, Point Break. Ha. Bucks. Bucky. Yeah, get to it.”

“You heard the man,” you said through your laughter, not at all embarrassed by the commentary. “Get to it.”

Taking one last look at Sebastian’s face on the screen, Bucky smiled in determination and did exactly that.

Happy Sinday! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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bookuce · 6 months ago

Text

Fools Rush In (Roman Reigns)

SUMMARY: Nessa wasn’t looking for love, neither was Joe, but when you know, you know. Isn’t it funny how fate work?

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, Joe is Roman. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

TROPE: Love At First Sight

WARNINGS: N/A

WORD COUNT: 1904

CHAPTER ONE

It was supposed to be a Girls’ Night for Nessa and Isabel. The plan was dinner and a movie, but now they wanted drinks. So they found themselves in a popular nightclub here in Miami. They approached the well-lit bar, their eyes visually drinking up the mountain of alcohol in front of them. “So,” Nessa breathes. “What do you want? The first round is on me.” The brunette turns her attention to her best friend. Her fingers excitedly tap the counter. “Are we feeling darks or clears?” She presses.

“Yes,” Isabel answers with a breathy laugh.

“Girl, I can’t drink like that anymore.” Nessa giggles. The statement wasn’t far from the truth. The last time she mixed her liquors, she woke up to potentially blackmailing videos on her phone. Never again. Nessa hums softly, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. “Let’s play it safe with clears. Vodka?” She asks. Isabel grimaces.

“Tequila?” She answers with a question.

They exchange stares in silence for a moment before putting their fists out. They shake them four times. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” They say in unison, throwing out different hand gestures. Nessa’s fist remains tight while Isabel’s hand is open. Paper beats rock.

“Lo siento, mi amor!” She exclaims while closing her hand around Nessa’s fist. “Maybe next time.” She turns her attention toward the bartender passing off shots to some nearby clubbers. “Two shots of Teremana, please!” The bartender nods at her request and turns to grab the bottle from the alcohol mountain. “With lime,” she adds with a smile. “Yeah.” she nods slightly.

Nessa shakes her head at the petite Latina. It was never a dull moment with her lively best friend. She turns over her left shoulder to grab her wallet from her back pocket but is halted by dark eyes watching her a few feet down. A smirk curls onto the lips of this bearded man once caught. Anxiety would rush through Nessa’s veins like electricity, causing slight chest pains for her.

Oh, he is handsome, she thought.

The bar lights lit his features well, the shadows chiseling out his bone structure. His hair laid against his head flat, pulled up into a bun, the sides shaved. He looks groomed—at least from here, he did.

“Ness,” Isabel calls, snapping Nessa out of the trance she was in.

The distracted woman turns her attention back to her friend, forgetting all about grabbing her wallet. “Yeah?” She asks. Isabel gestures towards the two shots in front of her. The bartender standing before them waited impatiently for a payment. “Oh shit, sorry.” She mutters, reaching into her back pocket for her wallet. A tan hand appears in front of her, a black credit card between two large fingers.

“Put it on my tab.” A deep voice says right above her ear. “I have their drinks all night.” He adds. The bartender eyed the black card in the man’s hand before taking it.

“What’s the name?” She asks.

“Joe.” He answers. Just as Nessa turns to look at the man, he lowers his hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you.” He says to her with a half-grin. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of approval from her best friend at the tall man.

Ness takes the warm hand, shaking it slightly. His hands were rough, a sure indication of a hardworking man. She now wonders what he does. Construction? Maybe. Architect? Possibly. “Vanessa—Nessa for short.” She says finally. He presses his lips into a thin grin and nods his head once at her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nessa.” He says, opting for the shorter version of her name. Mentally, she was happy he did. She preferred it over her full name. She felt more like a Nessa than Vanessa. They would continue to shake hands slightly while gazing at each other, both not realizing that they were still doing it. Isabel would watch them curiously from behind Nessa. She gawked over the man’s size. In height, he towered over her and her friend. She could tell he was very fit. She’s now wondering if he has a regimen he’d be willing to share.

“It’s a pleasure,” Nessa says, finally looking away from the chocolate-brown eyes that entranced her. Her eyes find their hands still wrapped around each other’s, and she drops it. She would peer up at him from the side, noticing his eyes still on her. Her heart began to soar at the sight. My, this man was overwhelmingly attractive.

“Thank you for the drinks!” Isabel would say suddenly. Nessa clears her throat and nods.

“Yeah, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” She says, chiming in.

“Well, I had to find a reason to come over here.” He explains with a shrug. “It’s no problem.” Silence would fall between the pair, causing Nessa to look ahead. She wasn’t too good at talking to men. It was only a matter of time before she said something to chase him off, or he realized she was not what he was looking for—whatever that may be.

“So…” Isabel chimes in. “Joe, what brings you here?”

“My cousins. Nightclubs aren’t really my thing, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He confesses. “What about you two? Here with anyone?” He asks. His second question is for Nessa. Joe hoped to God she wasn’t here with anyone. If she was, his efforts to know her would be in vain.

“It’s a Girl’s Night,” Nessa says, opting out of his second question.

“But are you here with anyone?” He asks, now directly asking her.

Isabel smiled at the interaction, mentally hoping Nessa would take what he was giving. Meeting guys in the club wasn’t the safest idea, but he seemed pretty sober to her. At the moment, she sees no warning lights flashing above his head. “I’m married,” Isabel says, jumping in again. If she could do anything for her best friend right now, it would be to set her up with this fine specimen of a man. She leans into her best friend, nudging her to speak up.

Nessa turns to Isabel briefly, her eyes widening before returning to Joe. “I’m not.” She says finally.

“A lucky guy at all?” He asks.

“No.”

“Lucky me.” He smiles, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Bartender,” He calls out, waving his hand. The same one that served us earlier approaches us. “Another round for us, please.” He says, whirling his index finger in the air.

Joe spoke with a swagger Nessa had never heard from a man. He radiated so much confidence. If he looks like that, how can you blame him? She’s now cycling through possible professions again. Lawyer, maybe. Doctor, no. Athlete, strong possibility. The poor girl was guessing everything but a serial killer. Nessa would take a glance down at his right hand. No ring, no ring tan. He was an unmarried man himself.

“Lucky girl?” She asks suddenly.

“Hm?” He hums, his thick brows lifting.

“I said, is there a lucky girl?” She repeats, leaning in towards him. Joe looks at her, quickly shaking his head.

“No, not for a little over a year now.” He answers, giving her more info than she was seeking. He reaches down to grab one of the three shots before them. He tosses it down the hatch, his jaw clenching and unclenching at the taste and burn. His last relationship wasn’t one he preferred to talk about. Though he should’ve been mad at his ex, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He’s gone most of the year; who’d want to stay with someone they barely see?

“Are you from here?” She asks.

“No, I’m from Pensacola.” And there it was. Joe was from another city. One that happened to be six hundred miles away from here. He was here for vacation, here for fun. She was not interested in that. “What about you?”

“I’m local.” She breathed, her shoulders shrugging as she spoke. “Been here my entire life.” She adds now reaching to grab her shot. She tosses it back slowly, her eyes closing slightly. She places the glass on the counter.

“That—.”

“Look,” She says suddenly. “I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, and I really hate to assume, but I’m not looking for a hookup.” She looks around. “Especially here.” She looks at him with a shake of her head. “Not a smart idea.”

Joe’s eyes venture away from her face, his eyes now on the bar counter. His large fingers would curl against the surface while he chose his words. “I understand.” He says, nodding. He lifts his hand, his palm up and open. “I’m not much of—of a hookup person myself.” He explains looking over at her. “I barely know how to do that kind of stuff—the pickup lines and whatnot.” He explains, leaning towards her slightly.

“Right,” Nessa nods.

“My cousins tried to teach me, but I’m not really feeling it, you know what I mean? I’ve never been one to do that.” He was now rambling, his anxiety starting to spike. Maybe he shouldn’t have come out. He can already hear Jon and Josh teasing him for not being able to pick up women. It should come easy to him with the way he looked, but how he looked and who he was were two completely different people. He stops himself, a slow blink to follow while he gathers himself. Just talk, Joe, he thinks. He takes a breath. “I just figured I’d come over and introduce myself, maybe find a reason to come back to this place. Miami is a bit scary after a certain hour with all of the…colorful people.” She chuckles at that, receiving a grin from him in return. Maybe he was winning her over again. “Maybe I can get your number instead?” He proposes.

Nessa watches him for a moment, her eyes searching for ill intent she’d never find. He did seem like a sweet guy; at least she was hoping he was. Isabel was staring a hole in the back of Nessa’s head. Surely this woman has some sense. If she didn’t give this man her number, she was going to give her a piece of her mind after (and maybe sneak her number to him behind her back).

“Uh,” Nessa starts.

“Perra, dale tu número.” Isabel hisses, pinching her side. Nessa shrinks away from the pinch, looking back at her friend who was glaring at her.

“Sure, why not.” She says, looking at Joe. A large smile would spread across his face as he fished his phone out of his coat pocket. She’d take the warm phone, putting in her info as a contact. She passes the phone back to him. “Don’t make me regret it.” She warns him.

“I won’t.” He says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Thank you,” He nods, looking between her and her friend. “I’ll let you ladies get back to your Girls Night. Remember, your drinks are on me. Be safe.” He says, walking off to find his cousins. Nessa and Isabel both watched as he vanished into the crowded space that was the dance area.

“I can’t believe you almost fumbled that!” She exclaims. “That man is fine, fit, and looks rich, mi amoré, okay? Alex is lucky I love him, because that one would’ve gotten fu—.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Nessa snips.

CHAPTER 2

———————————————————————————

A/N: so…fancy seeing you here LMAO. Should’ve seen it coming tbh. This is the first chapter of another little fanfic I have tucked away. I hope you like it!

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fluff #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x black oc

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katyswrites · 8 months ago

Text

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol use, recreational weed use, descriptions of puking/hangovers, no use of y/n, not quite smut but we're getting close folks

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 3

You don’t see Steve for nearly a week after that - you hang around the radio station quite a bit, as you usually do, but never manage to run into him. You should be thankful for that - for how peaceful it is. It’s not even like you want to see him - no, why would you? He’s a pain in your ass, and you should be thankful that you can do your job in peace.

No, it’s not actually at the station that you see him next - though, it’s tangentially related. You’re at perhaps your second-favorite place in the world - Varsity Vinyl, the local record shop downtown. It has some of the best selection you’d seen, and you always find yourself there - buying for your own growing record collection, or rooting through the used and discounted bin to help stock the station’s vinyl library. It’s where you find yourself on a Saturday afternoon, flipping through records while figuring how much money you actually realistically are able to spend.

You don’t see him, not at first. He’s standing further down the aisle, and when you finally look up and spot him, you nearly jump - he’s just staring at you, eyes wide. You straighten up, just holding eye contact - you feel like two wild animals sizing each other up, deciding whether to run or fight. You’re truly deciding between those two options when he clears his throat.

“Oh - uh, hey,” he says, quieter than you had expected.

“Hey.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, a beat of silence passing between you. Then, you both find yourselves speaking at once:

“Your party was fun the other night -”

“Are you okay -”

You both pause, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Sorry, uh - the party was fun last weekend. Thanks,” you say quietly.

Steve shrugs.

“Oh, yeah - glad you came. You… you seemed like you were having a good time.”

Like I made an absolute fool of yourself, more like, you think to yourself.

“Oh! I mean - I guess. Sorry if I got a little - uh -”

“It’s fine, don’t worry - we’ve had worse,” Steve assures.

He hasn’t said anything about bringing you home. Part of you is convinced that Eddie was misinformed, and Steve didn’t actually bring you home that night - that is, if it wasn’t for that stupid note. The note you probably should have thrown out, but stuck into a desk drawer instead - to refer to later, just to make sure you weren’t crazy, you had reasoned.

But now, Steve is standing in front of you, more quiet and withdrawn than you’ve ever seen in the past four years of knowing him.

“So, uh - thanks,” you say quickly, almost mumbling.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“For, um, getting me home safe - I don’t really remember it, but -”

He waves you off. “Oh, that - don’t worry about it. The hardest part was getting you to tell me your address,” he says, laughing. “You were wasted.”

You groan. “That’s…embarrassing.”

He smirks. “Honestly, yeah, a little bit. But most people were gone by then, so… your secret’s safe with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I mean - I’m surprised you didn’t tell everybody - how I was, you know, throwing up all over your apartment, being a drunk idiot -”

Why didn’t he? It’s leverage - a way to make people lose respect for you, and gain more for him. A part of this stupid, pointless power battle you two seem to always be involved in, seeing how far you can push one another. His response is unexpected.

“You don’t actually think that little of me, do you?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

He scoffs. “Look, it’s not my fault that you can’t hold your alcohol for shit. But, I’m not going to go around telling everyone that, okay? Christ -”

He trails off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re welcome, though.”

You suddenly feel like a bit of an asshole - Steve is used to you throwing insults his way, but this time, it seems to have struck a chord with him.

“I was in a really bad way, wasn’t I?” you ask quietly, avoiding eye contact.

He nods. “Honestly? Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. You really don’t remember?”

You shake your head, face feeling flushed with embarrassment. He just sighs.

“What do you remember?”

You rack your brain for a moment, biting your lip absentmindedly as you think.

“Um - I remember playing Kings with everyone… and, uh…”

I remember you coming in from the porch with what’s-her-face on your arm -

“-and it gets fuzzy after that,” you say quickly.

“Oh, okay - wow, that’s pretty early on. Well, you did some shots with Eddie and Robin - you got on the kitchen table at one point ... I think you threw up over my balcony… and after that I, uh, hung out with you in the bathroom while you threw up some more, and brought you home.”

You freeze. “Wait - you babysat me, like, the whole time? I thought that was Eddie -”

“No way, Eddie was too high to help anyone. I was stone-cold sober by that point, thanks to you.”

“Oh,” you say, wishing you could sink into the floor. Steve fucking Harrington knew what you looked like keeled over a toilet and puking your guts out… dammit.

“It was pretty gnarly, but… it’s fine. Really, it’s okay.”

For maybe the first time in his life, it sounds like Steve is being sincere with you. Another beat of silence passes, then he’s clearing his throat again.

“So… you have any big plans tonight? A repeat of last weekend, maybe?” he asks casually. You furrow your brow, confused.

“Um - do you actually care?”

He shrugs. “So what if I do?”

“Well - no, after last weekend I’m not sure if I ever want to drink again -”

“The most famous lie ever told,” he cuts in, grinning. You just roll your eyes, and pretend to be interested in perusing the records as you return to flipping through the crates.

“-but it just so happens that I do have plans tonight,” you say quietly.

“Hot date?”

You scoff. “I’m going to Fuze Box. Nancy’s covering some bands for an article for the campus paper, and I figured I’d check out who's playing tonight.”

WAMC has a long-standing relationship with Fuze Box, a small music venue for local artists and college bands. A lot of students and station members play there, and shows at the Box get advertised a lot on the air. You try to go to local gigs as much as you can - though, you haven’t made as much of an effort lately, too overwhelmed by other responsibilities as station manager. Nancy’s article is a good excuse to go, for the first time all semester.

“So, you don’t know any of the bands playing tonight?” he asks, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

You shake your head. “Nope - just figured I’d check it out, go in blind. Maybe I’ll even put some of the bands in my radio slot next week, if they’re selling CDs or something.”

Steve grins mischievously.

“Right - well, have fun, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, and know that any semblance of an awkward peace between you two is gone - the Steve you know and love (to hate) is back. You turn to make a clever retort, but he’s gone, having stalked off to a different aisle.

You’re not sure what he’s up to, but part of you now has a sneaking suspicion that he might show up at the venue tonight just to piss you off - it’s such a Steve move.

As you go to the checkout, you do your best to shake it - after all, what’s the worst that can happen?

*****

“Thank you - we’ve been Lime of Decision - goodnight!” the lead singer shouts, a collection of hollers and applause following. The lights go up a bit, some venue staff coming out to the stage to adjust the equipment for the next band.

“Lime Of Decision is… a choice,” Nancy says, scribbling something into her notebook.

“Yeah, that’s because their name is literally meant to be a joke,” you say absentmindedly.

“What?”

“Jason, the lead singer? His ex-girlfriend is in a band called Lemon Of Choice, so it’s like…funny. I think.”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Which band is better?”

“Definitely hers,” you say immediately.

You and Nancy both stare at each other for a moment, and break into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to get another drink, you want anything?” she asks.

You shake your head, holding up the cup of beer you’re still nursing from the beginning of the last band’s set.

She disappears into the crowd, and you sigh, taking a drink as you once again survey the room. If Steve actually is here, you haven’t spotted him yet - maybe he decided that getting on your nerves wasn’t worth actually paying the cover at the door. Or, maybe he actually had more important plans - maybe even with that girl he was all cozy with at the party -

You stop yourself - why do you care? If anything, it should be a good thing that he doesn’t seem to be here.

There’s two more bands left to go - you had glanced at the flier on the way in, but only recognized Lime Of Decision in the lineup. So, when Nancy returns with a new drink and the lights begin to dim again, you just hope the next band is better - it can really be hit or miss at these sorts of shows.

Darius, the radio station’s tech engineer, is emceeing the show. He steps out on stage to introduce the next band, earning a smattering of cheers and hollers thrown in his direction.

“Alright, alright everyone! Settle down - that includes you, Hagan - Jesus Christ, okay - can we give it up for the amazing bands we’ve heard so far tonight?”

You clap along with the rest of the crowd, rolling our eyes at the sound of particularly rowdy hollers from the back that you just know comes from Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin.

Darius’ eyes narrow.

“Dammit, Munson - when I said a month-long ban, I meant it -”

You glance back to see Eddie flipping Darius off - famously, Corroded Coffin got a temporary suspension from Fuze Box for smoking weed in the green room. But, the ban actually being enforced… not likely.

Darius rolls his eyes, struggling to get the room back on track as he taps the microphone.

“Okay, okay - everyone, can we please - if you all can shut the fuck up - okay, whatever. The next band up tonight - you guys know and love. They’re a Fuze Box favorite - and no, they are not promising anything with the name. Give it up for Free Beer!

You can’t help but laugh at the band’s name - you instinctively turn to Nancy, who is doing her best to stifle a giggle as she writes something on her notepad, squinting in the dark.

It’s during those few seconds while you’re looking away that the band takes the stage - which is why, when you glance back, you freeze as you see who’s standing front-and-center.

Steve stands at the mic stand, an electric guitar slung over his shoulders as he smiles at the crowd.

You freeze. Other band members - including Robin and Argyle, who you know all too well from the radio station - come out onto the stage behind him. But you’re just staring at Steve, dumbfounded.

You knew he had a band - scheduling them to perform on the air was always a nightmare for you, which you knew Steve did on purpose. So, you had never learned anything about them on-principle. You hadn’t heard a lick of music, didn’t know who else was in it, or even the goddamn name - until right now.

Nancy’s eyes are on you, you can feel it. You turn briefly to look at her.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, glancing at where Steve stands on stage. You shake your head.

“God, no! I - I’m an adult, I can be in the same room as Harrington,” you say, laughing nervously. You’re not sure how much you believe yourself. She stares at you for a moment, then just nods, turning her attention back to the stage, where Steve is stepping up to the mic.

“Hey guys - we’re Free Beer. I’m Steve -”

A few feminine voices cheer from the back. Your eyes roll so far to the back of your head that you’re worried you’ll go blind.

“Thanks, ladies, love the enthusiasm. So - let’s just get into it. Ready to hear some songs?”

There’s an eruption of cheers through the audience - one of the biggest reactions of the night so far.

“Alright - this one is called ‘Closer,’ I hope you enjoy.”

From the moment he plays the first chord, something shifts in the room. The crowd becomes less rowdy, less chatty. No - everyone is really listening. Some are even singing along - how the fuck do this many people know the words?

You want to hate it - you want the set to be something you’re tolerating, something that makes you look forward to the next band coming out. But, despite your efforts, that’s not what happens. Because the band is good. Robin is killer on bass, and Argyle is a formidable drummer, despite his perpetually laid-back persona. And Steve - it’s like he was born to do this.

Aside from having a pretty good voice, and being an excellent guitarist, he’s actually a good frontman. He’s charismatic, knows how to work the crowd, and somehow, he makes the tiny stage of the Fuze Box feel as exciting as Live Aid.

You want to scream - of course he’s good. You catch yourself moving along to the music every now and then, and immediately stop yourself, hoping nobody sees. At one point, you swear Steve sees you. His eyes land on yours - or, at least, in your direction. You think you imagine it - it’s a big enough crowd, and you’re far enough back that he probably can’t see past the first few rows. That is, until he smirks, in the way that you know he reserves only to taunt you, to challenge you.

Fuck.

*****

You find yourself heading down the hallway after Steve’s set - you’re looking for the bathroom, shouldering through the bodies packed into the narrow passage. Part of it is because your beer has finally gone through you, and more so because you need a minute of peace and quiet, just to stare at yourself in the mirror and talk some sense into yourself. Steve’s band can’t be good - that would be a problem. If you didn’t know who was part of it, they’re the kind of band you would buy records for, keep a spare CD in your car, and even include as part of your radio show. But…it's Steve.

You had purposely never gone to any of his shows - you never listened to any in-studio sessions they did at the station, and God knows you would never ask Steve about his music. What the fuck?

Part of you also wants to smack him - of course he was performing here tonight - he looked you in the eye at the record store today, heard you were coming here tonight, and said nothing. Next time you see him, you decide, you’ll ignore him - you won’t even acknowledge that you saw him perform. If he asks, you’ll tell him you left the show early, long before he came on stage. You won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking you sat through his whole set, let alone enjoyed it.

You can’t exactly remember where the bathroom is - was it all the way at the end of the hallway? None of the doors are really labeled, which tracks for Fuze Box.

You knock on a few doors and jiggle the handles - one is an electrical closet, the other is locked and seemingly empty. You finally reach a door at the end, and give it a gentle knock - nobody responds. You try the knob, and it gives way. After shouldering your way inside, you wish you hadn’t.

Apparently, instead of the bathroom, you’ve managed to find the green room - although, to call the backstage area of the Fuze Box a green room is generous. It’s really a tiny room with a worn out couch, a cracked glass coffee table littered with ashtrays, and lighting so dim that you have to squint to figure out exactly where you are as you slip through the door.

It’s only once you’re inside, when it’s too late, that you realize you’ve walked in on Steve.

His back is turned to you, but he jumps slightly and turns when he hears the door open. He’s wiping his brow with a towel, and he grins when he sees you.

“Hey, sweetheart - wasn’t expecting to see you back here.”

You stand in the doorway awkwardly - why couldn’t the rest of his band be hanging out here with him? That way, you could throw out a blanket ‘you guys were great’ statement. But now it’s just him, staring at you, his face saying why the fuck are you here?

“Oh - sorry - I’m in the wrong room,” you say quickly, your face feeling hot as you start to back away.

“Okay - sure you are,” Steve says sarcastically.

“What does that mean?” you ask, stopping your retreat.

He shrugs. “Don’t know - you just seem to always conveniently stumble into me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Try to stop me.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you just groan with frustration, taking a few steps towards him.

“Jesus, I - I don’t know if it’s like, a weird sick game to you, or you’re just always trying to piss me off - or if you just can’t help and flirt with everyone -”

“You think I’m flirting with you?” he asks, grinning mischievously.

You stop, folding your arms in indignation.

“No - I mean, kind of, but probably as a joke - I know what you’re up to, Harrington.”

“And what exactly am I up to?”

“This bullshit you keep pulling,” you say, gesturing between you two. “This - like, always sabotaging my shit, and getting in my way - but then like, this stupid nice-guy thing, where you drive me home when I’m drunk and don’t tell anyone, but then like you trick me into watching your stupid band perform -”

He scoffs. “Trick you? Be serious -”

“You knew I’d be here tonight - you knew, and didn’t say anything -”

“Well given your track record, sweetheart, if you had known I’d be playing, I’m sure you would’ve been front row!”

You stop mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as you try to search inwardly for a reply. Your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He’s smirking now, just like he did on stage. As always, he’s too confident, too sarcastic, too Steve. He’s taken away your ability to even come up with a halfway decent retort. It pisses you off.

“I - that’s not -”

Your blood is rushing to your head, roaring in your ears, too enraged to even let you think straight anymore. You’re marching right up to him now, prodding his chest with your finger.

“I don’t like you,” you say.

“You don’t say?” he drawls, still smiling. Why is he smiling?

“Stop doing that -”

“Doing what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Stop distracting me -”

“I distract you?”

You want to kick yourself.

“I - well - only because you’re so -”

“Devilishly handsome?”

“-fucking annoying.”

He cocks his head, like you’ve only mildly piqued his curiosity instead of insulted him.

You sigh. “What?”

“It’s just - you didn’t seem to find me very annoying last weekend when you tried to kiss me.”

A beat. You just stand there, jaw agape as his words hang in the air between you like smoke on a hazy summer’s day.

“That’s not funny,” you manage to say.

“Does it look like I’m laughing?”

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him - the next band has started outside, a distant din that should be distracting. But all you can focus on is Steve - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way you’re close enough to smell that he had just had a cigarette.

“I didn’t -”

“Sweetheart - right before you puked your guts up in my bathroom, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat. Don’t worry - I didn’t let you. I really thought you would’ve remembered, until I saw you in the record store - then I realized you didn’t remember jack shit.”

You feel like you’re making this up. He’s just saying this to get under your skin - he must be. It’s the only explanation. Because you’d never -

“You’re lying.”

But he’s just staring at you, and you’re starting to get the sickening suspicion that this isn’t a joke.

“You’re lying,” you repeat, though it sounds more like a question this time.

He’s taking another step towards you, shaking his head.

“You know what they say, sweetheart - in vino vesco, or whatever. You know - how people say and do what they’re really thinking when they’re drunk -”

“Veritas.”

He stops, furrowing his brow.

“I - what?”

You can’t help yourself - you just can’t.

“The phrase is in vino veritas - it means truth. I think vesco means food or something, you’re missing the whole -”

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re always such a -”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you’re kissing him. You don’t mean to do it, you swear - but he had gotten so close, the heat radiating off of him too much to ignore. And, he was really pissing you off - you didn’t need to hear another word out of his mouth.

You fist your hands in his t-shirt, your lips on his, messy and desperate, like you’re trying to prove a point. And he’s kissing you back.

Steve kisses the same way he argues - he’s aggressive, his hands coming up to grab your face and pull you closer. He tastes like cigarettes and cheap beer, his aura hot and desperate as it envelops you.

The band plays out in the venue, the audience cheering and singing along - but, all you can hear is Steve’s labored breath against your lips, your own heart thudding in your chest.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, another argument you were both desperate to win. But, right now, you’re losing. Because he’s guiding your body, and you’re responding, stepping backwards until your back is hitting the cinderblock wall.

No words are spoken, just breathy moans and the sounds of your lips moving in unison. It’s not remotely romantic - it feels more like fuck you, I’m trying so hard to hate you, why can’t you let me -

One of his hands has traveled down to your waist, gripping it firmly enough to tell you that he wanted more. You feel his hand start to move, slipping under the hem of your shirt and gently brushing the warm skin of your lower back. His hands are calloused, rough against the softness of your skin. You let him start to explore, unable to stop yourself from quietly moaning against his lips.

You know you should stop - but you can’t. It’s addicting, the way he’s still fighting with you as his tongue enters your mouth. Is this really happening? Maybe this could’ve gone on for hours. That is, until -

The knock on the door makes you both jump, pulling apart as quickly as you had crashed together. Steve is staring at you, breathing heavily, his pupils blown and lips a bit swollen. You imagine you look similarly. He takes a step back, separately himself from where you’re still frozen against the wall.

“Yeah?” Steve calls, voice rougher than before.

“Are you decent?” a voice asks from the other side of the door, barely audible over the sound of the band currently on stage.

Steve looks like he’s fighting laughter, but he just shakes his head, back facing the doorway.

“Nope - you’re good,” he says, his eyes meeting yours again.

He doesn’t need to say it - the look he’s shooting your way is enough.

Not a word.

Robin enters, grinning.

“Hey, we were just going to - oh, hi.”

She’s spotted you, and you just know she has questions.

“Hey, Robin,” you say quietly. “I, uh - I was looking for the bathroom. Ended up in here - I was just telling Steve how much I liked your set.”

Robin beams. “Thanks! It’s fun to see that you came out - haven’t seen you at a gig in a while!”

You nod. “Oh, yeah - I’ve been trying to get myself out there more -”

Steve scoffs, and you want to slap him. If Robin notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“- but, um - I should go.”

Robin nods.

“Yeah - I was just coming to find Steve, we’re all going to head to WT’s for a drink - uh, do you want to come?”

She’s probably just being polite. But, you shake your head vigorously.

“No, I’m good - sounds like it’s a band thing. I should get going anyway - I’ll catch the end of this set,” you say, gesturing towards the sound of the band on stage echoing from down the hall. You still haven’t made eye contact with Steve, not since Robin entered the room. So, you just give her a curt nod, and do everything in your power to head out the door without looking like you’re bolting. You’re screwed.

author's note: thanks for your patience y'all! I'm going away to Ireland on a work trip for about 3 weeks starting tomorrow, so I'm hoping to do some writing while I'm there, but no promises! As always, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

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shewolf-sinclair · 6 months ago

Text

I HATE when people dumb down Jason Todd “he’s impulsive/irrational/erratic/brash/dumb/the angry robin!”

WRONG

let me break it down for you fools because he’s actually like one of the most nuanced and complex characters to ever bless my presence (and he’s the best ((my fav)) robin argue with the wall) (tldr at the end but please read the post)

Starting out as robin they are ALL orphans. because that’s like bruce’s thing. BUT dick and tim had families before bruce adopted them. Jason did not. HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. (+10 points for truama✨) which led him to grow up to be independent and resourceful. Bruce literally met him because he was trying to steal the bat mobiles tires with the intent of reverse engineering them to sell to the people of gotham because bullet proof tires in that kinda city would save lives source

As for being brash. Yeah. he is. he lacks people skills because HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. yet he still knows how to sympathize with people and not be an ass ALL the time. he’s cocky sure but it’s a defensive mechanism after years of being treated like he doesn’t have value/having to prove himself. and damien is worse lets bsffr.

He’s impulsive. (likely adhd) Teenager. next question.

He’s the angriest robin! he only ever wants vengeance! WRONG. dick is angrier! he was so petty he left gotham and got a new identity just as a fuck you to bruce. any anger Jason has is not unmatched or outdone by other robins and he is rightfully angry he’s been dealt a crappy hand in life. he’s jealous of dick because bruce was ALWAYS comparing him and telling heroic stories of dicks feats. it’s hard not to push yourself to be as good as or better than the og and not to crack under said pressure.

He’s dumb! NOPE. he is as smart if not smarter than tim. He is BRILLIANT when he wants to be. (see above: resourceful) if you take titans (cw) as canon (why wouldn’t u its as canon as any other tv show??) he is a GENIUS. he taught himself chemistry so he could invent and mass produce drugs. he had a genius strategy to fuck with the titans; the puzzle of clues for which dick needed scarecrow, kory, gar, and conner to solve. Not to mention him finding doctor light earlier in the season. He leads the outlaws bc he is a natural leader and good at handling the details!!

He’s a villain! OKAY AND? SO WAS HARLEY BUT WE LUV HER !! DAMIEN WAS A TRAINED ASSASAIN! he puts so much effort into helping people (see above: resourceful) HE RISKED/LOST HIS LIFE FOR IT. HE IS FIERCELY LOYAL. even as red hood he obtains a strict moral code; no drugs to kids or by schools, don’t kill innocent uninvolved people(depends on which media you’re looking at). serve karma on a gold platter. unlawful but USUALLY NOT unethical. he also becomes a vigilante (and the JL for a bit) and does so much good! none of them are perfect ALL of the time. and considering the other DC villains, he’s not that evil.

strength?? no problem! he almost beat dick and bruce several times in the comics!! source

not to mention his proficiency for new things (see above: chemistry) his whole time as robin he uses bat tech. but redhood uses guns and knives. he just picked that up and was a skilled marksman immediately. (also truama response after nearly dying to death stroke)

so what hes kinda fucked in the head. aren’t they all? isn’t that… the point? it’s justified after everything he’s been through AND it makes hims a better character, more 3D more realistic and relatable.

also for the sake of this thesis partially disregard the wonderful work of art that is WFA it’s a fixit. for a reason. because the it was broken and needed fixing.

TLDR; you don’t have to like Jason Todd, or think he’s the best Robin, but you have to admit, he is a complex, layered, well written character. And stop mischaracterizing him and dumbing him down to this impulsive, angry, weak kid.

bonus: my Jason playlist

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year ago

Note

Eyy so can I request for fem!reader headcanons that she has a familiar that is actually the Stitch himself? With first years' reaction (Lol imagine Stitch literately gonna throw hands with Ace during their first meeting and still hold grudges-)

cute and fluffy!

Characters: First Years (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, Sebek, Grim)

Synopsis: how the first years get along with your cute and fluffy dog familiar

Tags: mostly platonic but can be romantic (except ortho), stitch!, fluff, crack

Word count: 1.4k+

Notes: definitely should have wrote this back in the summer, buuut now we all get to think of nostalgic summer vibes hehe

Masterlist

bond: 5/10

you can't tell me these two don't argue(?) every moment they have

usually it's ace trying to play a prank on him, get revenge on him

but stitch is way too clever, and always manages to shift all the blame onto ace

ace can try all his might to convince us, but his acting skills are way too flashy to be realistic

just look at those big innocent eyes! how could you accuse him like that, ace!

all the while stitch is just on your shoulder, smirking at ace

though there are times when these two team up, particularly when they're trying to prank other people

riddle and deuce get pranked... a lot

usually it's stitch either playing cute, or messing around to create a distraction for ace

they're a powerful team these two T_T

"Hey prefect! Have a little faith in me, okay?!" Ace says, his eyes wide in disbelief. "It really wasn't me, it was Stitch!" he points towards Stitch, sitting comfortably on your shoulder. You shift your gaze to Stitch, and he tilts his head innocently.

Raising an eyebrow, you look back at Ace.

"Argh! You're getting tricked by him again!"

"Haka taba, ika patootie!" your familiar exclaims.

(How embarrassing, stupid head!)

bond: 7/10

these two get along pretty well!

stitch really admires deuce for trying his best, even if his efforts aren't always visible

it reminds him of himself, so he's always enthusaistic about helping deuce when he struggles!

though... deuce is pretty much fooled by stitch's cuteness most of the time, so he still gets pranked by stitch

only deuce usually doesn't realise stitch was the culprit, and even if he does, he just ends up laughing good-heartedly

they're like the sweet elder brother and the genius little brother omg

"Hm? Oh, hi Stitch," Deuce acknowledges quietly, his gaze fixed on the textbook, unfazed by Stitch's arrival on the adjacent seat. Stitch makes a questioning sound, and only then does Deuce turn to face him.

"Oh, I'm trying to figure this question here," he points to the page. "I just can't get my head around it... How did they get that answer...."

Stitch peers at the page for a moment, then reaches for Deuce's pen, swiftly scribbling away at a scrap piece of paper. Once he's done, he holds it up for Deuce to see.

"Wha-? Wait.. you solved it??" Deuce mumbles. His eyes scan over the page as a sudden realization dawning in his eyes. "So that's how you do it...! Thanks Stitch!" he says as he pulls Stitch in for a hug.

bond: 6/10

omg best workout buddies!!

yeah, he isn't really affected by stitch's cuteness

but his strength??? absolutely

these two love having competitions to see who can lift more weight

im sorry jack, it's stitch, you can't beat my six-armed alien dog familiar

but if anything, this just motivates jack to work on his muscles even more

positive loop i guess??

and stitch joins him sometimes! but he gets frustrated at the equipment easily

so make sure you stop him before he starts throwing things around

his dream is to see stitch and leona having an arm wrestle but we all know that's not happening soon T_T

sibling rivalry vibes fr

"Alright, you want me to move that bookshelf over there right? Where exactly do you-"

Before Jack can even finish his sentence, the bookshelf quickly moves to the other side of the room in a blur of blue, exactly where you wanted it.

"Pitcha! Stitch! Strong! Ahahahaha!" Stitch cackles, rolling on the floor with laughter.

(Done!)

You feel Jack tense up beside you. "Grrrr... Are you tryin' to show off??" he growls. He turned to you, determination evident in his eyes, "Prefect! What else would you like to move? Leave it to me!"

bond: 8/10

epel has a lot to learn from stitch!

anyone with a keen eye can tell stitch is really good at fooling other people with his cute appearance

and many times, he can use it to his advantage! mostly from you, lilia, and floyd who cannot resist the cute and fluffy

the poison apple is always observing stitch to see how he can use his features as his weapon

and stitch very glady teaches epel in alien talk but we've got body language, because epel always brings delicious apple snacks for him!

so you always find epel listening attentively while stitch does some dramatic recreation of a scenario

Perched on a cushion, Stitch begins to act out a scene, the crumbs of apple pie still lingering on his face.

"Uhh... some bad guy caught you in his arms?"

Stitch vigorously nods, then switches to a puppy dog face and executes a jump-kick in the air.

"You acted cute... and then you managed to kick him?"

Stitch nods again, transitioning between a sweet, innocent expression and a fierce, growling one.

"Ahhh... So you shifted between being cute to catch them off guard..." Epel hums thoughtfully. "That's really smart Stitch!"

Proud, Stitch beams, "Stitch! El kiyotay!"

(Good idea!)

bond: 7/10

in the same vein that ortho is a sweet kid who has a mischevious side, he gets along really well with stitch!

he loves how affectionate stitch can be with hugs, and also finds it funny how he can lose his temper very easily

he's also fascinated with the alien stuff, after all, stitch's existence proves there are extraterrestrial beings! he loves expanding on his database

the two of them also love building tiny gadgets out of whatever scraps they find, it's like a competition to see who can come up with a more useful gadget

not to mention, his big bro is dying to meet stitch! a cute alien dog who loves climbing onto other people's shoulders? sign him up!

but his social energy can't... so it's up to ortho to get more interactions with stitch!

"You're so cool Stitch!" Ortho laughs as he takes in the sandcastel Stitch built in seconds. "Idia would be so impressed..."

Stitch makes a inquisitive sound, prompting Ortho to explain, "Oh, Idia is my big brother! He'd absolutely be amazed by you, but he's too shy to make new friends," Ortho pouts.

Stitch tilts his head and asks, "Ohana?"

"Ohana?" Ortho repeats. "You've said that before... it means family right? Yeah, Idia is my Ohana."

"Goobaja! Meet! Ohana!" he exclaims.

(Let's go!)

"You want to meet my big bro?" Ortho asks. Seeing Stitch's enthusiasm, Ortho laughs again, "Hmm... alright then, let's go see him now!"

bond: 2/10

oh boy... these two should not be in the same room together

it all started when sebek was looking for malleus during one of malleus' late night ramshackle visits

and though malleus was endeared by how unstartled stitch was to just casually climb onto his shoulder, sebek certainly was not

"HOW DARE THE CREATURE CLIMB ONTO MY LIEGE'S SHOULDER!!!"

of course, first impressions really do matter, so whenever the two of them see each other...

they hiss at each other. both of them.

though sebek will behave if lilia or malleus are present, but the silence vanquishes almost immediately when they're gone

he will be impressed by stitch's physical strength and speed, just in a more condescending way as compared to jack

"Sebek. isn't it amazing how strong Stitch is? He lifted so many logs at once!" Lilia exclaims admiringly, while Stitch grins smugly.

"Yes., Lilia... It certainly is impressive..." Sebek mumbles, shifting his gaze to a glare directed at Stitch. "...for a creature of such moderate stature,"

Stitch, in turn, growls ferociously back at Sebek. "Meega, nala kweesta!"

"Oh dear..." Lilia sighs. "Young people these days are always so eager to get into fights,"

bond: 4/10

what do you mean his henchman has a familiar?! you're his henchman!!

ahem ahem jealousy

will argue about everything with stitch, and he could be completely wrong but still argues confidently

honestly, stitch finds grim amusing

it's kinda like a 'i don't need to prove myself to you' smug grin

fights about food! always.

stitch your favourite food isn't even tuna, stop bullying grim T_T

but stitch is still a sweetheart sometimes, and will be nice/help grim whenever he can

"Hench-man!" Grim exclaims as he jumps up and down. "Why does that guy get to sit on your shoulder? It's not fair~"

"Grim, didn't you complain when I carried you last time?" you ask.

Grim freezes for a moment. "Well... uh... That's different! I wanna see from high up too!"

Stitch laughs at his response, "Wahaha! Toga meega patookie!"

(Kiss my butt)

"Henchman~" Grim whines.

Sighing, you pick Grim up and have him sit on the other shoulder. Oh, the woes of having two 'familiars'.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #ace trappola #twisted wonderland ace #deuce spade #twisted wonderland deuce #jack howl #twisted wonderland jack #epel felmier #twisted wonderland epel #ortho shroud #twisted wonderland ortho #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland sebek #twisted wonderland grim

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

Text

Where the Heart Is, Part 5 - Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 4

Summary: It’s your Spring Break and you and Eddie are headed out on a road trip. With a large looming question that you want to ask him hanging over your head, will you find a reason why you shouldn’t ask it, chicken out, or go through with it?

Note: I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since I started this story. Honestly, it was never supposed to be a series. I thought it would be a one and done cute little story. But I was amazed by the number of people who said they’d love to see a continuation, and now here we are! Part 5 is the last part, but rest assured, there will be a epilogue soon to come.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral (m and f receiving), previously agreed upon somnophilia

Words: 17.5k

[Where the Heart Is masterlist]

The countdown to spring break is almost at its end. For you and Nancy, the timer headed for zero is just about to take its victory lap. Both you and your best friend have elected to take the Friday before break off, giving you a jumpstart on your vacation. The two of you only had one class each that day, and they were classes you could afford to skip.

This way, Nancy can catch an earlier flight back to Indianapolis and get started on her and Steve’s romantic little getaway to Chicago, and you and Eddie can get your road trip down the Atlantic coast started before some of that other Spring Break traffic weaves its way onto the major highways.

Bags are already packed and shoved into the corners of your respective dorms, only the essentials you’ll need for the night and in the morning not zipped away yet. Nancy has a pretty early flight out of Boston in the morning and Eddie’s catching the red eye in, so morning is going to come quickly for the three of you. You get to sleep in a little bit longer since Eddie is renting the car you’ll be taking on your road trip at the airport, then driving it down to pick you up on campus. You’d be a fool not to take advantage of those extra minutes of beauty sleep while awaiting your handsome prince to arrive with his chariot.

The dark morning will arrive sooner than either of you’d like, so it was decided that you and Nancy would have a nice, long dinner together in the dining hall before retiring to your dorms to relax and try to get some sleep. Realistically though, you knew you wouldn’t be able to relax until you triple checked you had everything packed that you needed, and even then, the excitement of seeing your boyfriend would keep you awake.

“How many bathing suits did you pack?” Nancy asks you as she drizzles the ranch dressing onto her salad. The dining hall is at about its usual capacity, just a bit louder than normal since everyone is high on the prospect of their impending freedom.

“Three,” you answer Nancy as you spear a rogue grape with your fork. “I had two that I brought with me to school, then that one I got when we went to the mall together the other week.”

“Oh yeah,” Nancy says. Even looking down at her plate full of colorful salad can’t hide the smirk Nancy’s got going on. “That was a great buy.”

“Because you picked it out,” you say through a laugh.

“And Eddie will thank me.” She gives you an innocent shrug of her shoulders and stuffs some lettuce and spinach in her mouth.

The heat in your cheeks increases even as you shake your head at your friend in amusement. The two-piece did look good on you, though. It’s hard for you to admit when something—especially a bathing suit—looks good on you, but Nancy did well picking this one out for you.

“What about you?” you ask Nancy, eager to have the conversation turned away from you. “Enough dresses for all that fancy schmancy Stancy stuff you’re going to be doing?”

Nancy breaks into giggles at your words, the rhyming scheme including the amalgamation of her and her boyfriend’s names being the cherry on top.

“Yes,” she finally answers when she’s able to speak coherently. “I’ve got some nice outfits with me. But you make it seem like we’re going to the opera and Windsor Castle. It’s just Chicago. Theatres and restaurants and lots of rats walking down the roads.”

“Make sure to tell them that their pizza is too thick there,” you say, making Nancy roll her eyes.

“I’m not getting into a fight about pizza in Chicago—I’d like to make it to sophomore year here, you know.”

“And away from that friggin’ asylum,” you say, jabbing a fork over your shoulder, in the general direction of where your dorm building is.

“Yes, thank God,” Nancy concurs with a sigh of relief. She pops a cherry tomato and a basil croton into her mouth and looks as though she’s deliberating something while she chews. “So, when are you going to ask him?”

You knew the question was coming but that doesn’t make you any less twitchy when you hear it.

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyes suddenly finding the fruits and cheeses that roll around your plate interesting. “I’m nervous…”

It’s not until Nancy reaches over and places her hand on top of yours that you realize you’ve been shaking.

“Hey,” Nancy starts softly, ducking her head so she can meet your gaze and give you a comforting smile. “You’re just letting him know it’s an option. You’re not forcing him into anything.”

“I know,” you answer softly. And you do. The fact that it’s a big step is what’s been circling your brain as of late. Would he want it? Would he be ready for it? Are you ready for it? It’s these questions and more that plague your mind every time you try to sleep at night. Yet with all those hours spent pondering, an answer still never comes to you.

The early spring night still has a bit of a chill to it as you and Nancy make the journey from the dining hall back to your dorm building. The two of you part at your room, hugging one another tight enough to potentially cut off some air supply.

“I want to hear about everything when we get back,” Nancy says. She pauses for a moment before amending her statement. “I want to hear about almost everything.” The smirk she gives you has you playfully swatting at her and shooing her down the hall towards her room.

“Bye!” Nancy calls as she rounds the corner.

The warmth of your dorm room envelops you as you step inside, and triple check your luggage yet again to make sure you have everything you’ll need on your trip. Once you’re satisfied, you pop your VHS tape of Grease into the VCR and curl up in your bed.

Listening to Frankie Valli sing Grease is the Word is the last thing you remember before you drift off, drooling on your pillow.

Usually when your alarm wakes you up all you want is to shut it up for at least another hour. But today, the overly shrill chirp has you bright-eyed and bushy tailed as soon as you hear it. It signals that it’s time to see Eddie, which is the best wake up call you could possibly ask for.

You’re pretty sure you get dressed in record time and nearly trip over your own feet as you shuffle to grab your duffel bag and throw the strap over your shoulder. The stuffed backpack that looks like it’s about to burst at the seams gets balanced precariously on your shoulder as you snatch your keys up from your desk.

No one told the elevator that you’re supposed to be meeting your boyfriend now, so it takes a year and a day for it to finally ding and let you know it’s ready to take you downstairs. If you weren’t carrying enough to inevitably make you trip down the stairs, you would’ve hoofed it down to the ground floor by now.

The cool spring morning air greets your skin, and your eyes hungrily search for the familiar mop of curly hair you’ve been dying to see. When your eyes finally catch on him standing near the curb, you have to do a double take. There he stands, handsome as ever with that million-watt smile and intoxicating eyes. But you were expecting to see him standing next to a car, not a van. It’s about the same size as the one he has back in Hawkins, only this one isn’t in dire need of a tune up and a wash.

Smile never leaving your face, your eyebrows pinch together in confusion as you walk towards him. He meets you halfway and takes the bags from you, setting them on the sidewalk before yanking you into his arms and holding you tight against his chest.

“God, I fucking missed you,” Eddie mumbles into your hair.

Instinctively, your arms wrap around his lithe waist, a giddy giggle bursting out of you at being in your boyfriend’s embrace once more. It feels simultaneously like just yesterday and a year since you’ve seen him.

“Hi, handsome,” you speak into his neck as you burrow your head there. The familiar scent of cigarettes, a hint of weed, and what can only be described as Eddie floods your senses and it almost brings you to tears how happy you are to be with him again.

“Hi, my gorgeous girl.” Reluctantly, Eddie pulls back, only so he can cup your cheeks in his large ringed hands and press the sweetest and most seductive of kisses to your lips. It’s almost enough to have your knees buckling right then and there in front of your dorm building.

As you slowly recover from the kiss, your eyes are drawn back to the blue and silver van parked a few feet away from you. It’s oddly reminiscent of Scooby Doo’s Mystery Machine.

“I thought you were getting a car, baby,” you say as you pick your backpack off the ground.

“Well,” he says as he hefts the strap of your duffle bag over his shoulder, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise me?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you follow Eddie over to the vehicle.

He yanks open the back door of the van and your jaw drops at the sight. It’s piled with so many pillows and blankets that it looks like he robbed a Bed, Bath, & Beyond. They’re all illuminated in an array of colors as well, as Eddie has clipped multi-colored Christmas lights up around the rim of the ceiling. It looks like the perfect little haven made for just you and Eddie.

“For one,” Eddie says as he shoves your bag over to the side where his are, “it’s cheaper than getting a place to stay every night. Two, it’s uh, cozier.” The mischievous glimmer in his eye has you smiling.

“Cozier, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says as you drop your backpack in the back of the van as well. “More private. Just you and me, cuddled up close. We can even open the door and look at the stars…until we lock ourselves in for the night.”

“I like the way you think, Munson.” You slip your arms around his neck, and he wastes no time wrapping his around your waist.

“Glad to hear it, baby. Let’s see what other fun ideas I can come up with on this trip.”

The first stop before you really get on the road is the grocery store. You quickly realize that Eddie intends to have more food in the van than actual luggage.

“Eddie,” you admonish with a laugh as you peer inside the cart. “If you buy one more bag of chips there isn’t going to be any room for us in the van.”

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Eddie says with a snap of his fingers. He turns down the next aisle, forcing you to follow in his wake. Your boyfriend snatches up a can of whipped cream and you’re not sure how he expects all the cold items you’re buying to fit into the small cooler you have.

“What is that even for?” you ask, eyes scanning for what the whipped cream could possibly be sprayed on top of.

“Oh, you’ll see.” Eddie playfully gives your ass a light smack before pushing the now-heavy cart toward the checkout counters.

Once the two of you officially commence on your road trip, you immediately realize you underestimated how hard being the navigator was going to be. The large map is stretched out across your lap and half of the dashboard. The sound of crinkling paper is a constant in the car as you fuss with the map, turning it this way and that to figure out how you’re supposed to be looking at it.

“Please don’t have us driving off a cliff,” Eddie begs. “I’d like for us to make it to North Carolina in one piece.”

“Cliffs? Nah. But will I inadvertently tell you to make a turn that leads us to Midtown Manhattan? Very possibly.”

“Why?”

“Les Miserables opened on Broadway not too long ago,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie lets out a guffaw of laughter and shakes his head. “Not until you and me go to see Metallica together, babe.”

Despite all the food the two of you just purchased, the first stop you make is at a diner in New Jersey for lunch. You’ve been on the road for about four hours and your legs are aching to move.

A long groan emanates from your throat as you hop out of the van and stretch every muscle that you possibly can. There’s a sign just down the road from the diner and if you squint, you can make out what it says.

“Welcome to Woodbridge. Cool, guess we’re in Woodbridge.”

Eddie knocks the driver’s side door of the van closed and walks over to your side. Pinching his thumb, forefinger, and middle fingers together and shaking them in front of him, Eddie says in the worst New Jersey accent that you’ve ever heard, “Welcome to Joisey!”

Lunch is a nice break from driving, but you two haven’t made it terribly far yet so you’re eager to get back on the road. Unfortunately, it isn’t long before the two of you drive right into the middle of a raging storm.

At first, you’re okay, just hoping the storm will pass by quickly and you’ll be in the clear. But it seems the further you get into it, the darker the skies get and the heavier the rain pounds against the windshield. A particularly loud clap of thunder makes you jump in your seat and let out a little yelp.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie says, taking one hand off the wheel and reaching over to take one of yours. “It’s okay.”

You flinch and shake Eddie’s hand off of yours, the motion only making your anxiety worse.

“Please put both hands on the wheel!” you beg, voice wobbling.

“Okay,” Eddie says as he places his hands back at the ten and two positions. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t want to make it too obvious because you’d probably just yell at him to keep his eyes on the road. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“I just…” you trail off, pausing to take a breath. “I don’t like driving in storms. It makes me really, really nervous.”

“All right,” Eddie says, purposely keeping his voice even and calm. “Look, that sign right there says there’s a rest stop in two miles. We’ll pull off there and wait for it to pass, okay?”

“O-Okay,” you stutter.

In your opinion, it takes an agonizingly long time to go those two miles. But finally, Eddie takes the exit for the rest stop and finds a parking space close to the picnic area—that is currently flooding. The thunder is still roaring above, and the rain sounds like a white noise, blocking out anything else.

“Hey, c’mere.” Eddie nods his head towards the back of the van and unbuckles his seatbelt. He maneuvers himself between his and your seats and manages to climb into the back. You take a deep breath and follow him, instantly falling into his open arms. Eddie grabs a blanket and wraps it around your body, holding you close against his chest. “I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay.”

“I-I know,” you sniffle.

Eddie presses a few kisses to the top of your head and rubs his hand up and down your arm soothingly. Being in the hollow bed of the van seems to make the echo of the thunder louder than it was while you were driving. The way you tense up even further in Eddie’s hold has him furrowing his brow. He reaches over and flicks the strings of Christmas lights on.

“You know, these are the ones we bought together,” he tells you. “When you came to stay for Christmas.”

“R-Really?” you ask, mildly trembling.

“Mhmm. Was worried security at the airport would question me about what I was doing with half a dozen strands of lights, but apparently, they have bigger problems.”

You give a huff of laughter in response, but Eddie can tell that it’s forced. His eyes scan the back of the van and land on his guitar case tucked up against the back of the driver’s seat. He unwraps one arm from you and reaches to bring it closer. Impressively, he unlatches the clasps with one hand and slips his guitar out.

“Here, princess.” Eddie gently moves you so you’re nuzzled up into a pile of blankets and settles the guitar in his lap. He clears his throat and starts to gently strum at the strings, plucking them harder to amp up the volume and hopefully distract you from the loud sounds of the storm.

It works. The more you focus on Eddie, both watching and listening to him, the calmer you feel yourself become. A small smile tugs at your lips when Eddie throws a wink your way. He plays and plays until his fingers start to cramp, the storm outside still trying to outshine him. With a sigh, Eddie sets his guitar back in the case and scoots over to you in the mass of blankets. He snuggles up into the pile with you and you curl into his side, laying your head right over his heart.

“Thank you,” you say, just loud enough to be heard over the rain.

“Of course, sweet girl.”

The rain somehow sounds soothing when you’re nestled up with Eddie. His hands softly trail over your body, relaxing you further.

Eddie looks down at you and a small smile curls the edges of his mouth when he sees your eyes growing heavy. He wracks his brain for a slow, soft song that could help lull you into a nap. Gently, Eddie lays his head against yours and begins to hum Open Arms by Journey. Before he can even finish the song, your eyes are fully closed, and your breathing has evened out. Eddie knows he won’t be able to move without waking you up, but he doesn’t mind one bit as he holds you in his arms. His right arm, left arm, hell, his whole body could fall asleep, but he still wouldn’t move a muscle.

The first thing you think as you start to wake up is how comfortable you are. Wrapped in soft blankets, strong arms around you, and your head resting on your boyfriend’s chest. Slowly, you open your eyes and blink them a few times, the multicolored little lights looking blurry to your adjusting eyes.

“Well, good morning.”

Stretching your muscles as much as you can in your cocoon of blankets, you tip your head up to give Eddie a sleepy smile.

“Mm, it’s not really morning, is it?” you ask, still somewhat groggy.

“No, it’s only been a couple of hours.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you say. “Much more relaxed.” The source of your original anxiety comes back to you and only then do you realize that there’s no sound of wind, rain, thunder, or anything at all.

“Good.”

“Thank you for helping me,” you say as you sit up, letting Eddie move for the first time in hours.

“Always, baby,” he says as he shakes his arms out, trying to get the blood flowing again.

Slowly, you crawl over to peek out the front window from between the seats. You’d swear it was like there was never a single raindrop with how lovely it looks outside.

“The sun looks so pretty now,” you remark, squeezing one eye shut as the bright light hurts your still-sleepy eyes.

“Oh!” Eddie says with a snap of his fingers. “That reminds me.”

You turn your head over your shoulder to see Eddie rummaging through an old, red duffle bag emblazoned with the Marlboro insignia on the sign. The tip of his tongue pokes out in concentration as he continues his search, and you just sit back on your heels and watch him.

“What’re you look—”

“Aha!” Eddie raises his fist above his head in victory, accidentally bumping it against the roof. He lets out a small huff of pain as he zips the duffle closed with the other hand and turns to face you. “Come here.”

As best as you can in the cramped space, you turn and crawl on your knees in his direction. When you stop in front of him, you look up at him expectantly.

“Okay. I was a good dog and obeyed my command,” you tease. “Do I get a treat?”

“Actually…” Eddie trails off, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You do.” Eddie grabs one of your hands and holds it palm side up. He gently places a small black velvet bag in your hand, then curls your fingers around it.

“What’s this?” you ask when he releases your hands. You inspect the bag but there’s no name or any indication of where this came from or what it is.

“It’s called a gift.”

You glare at him from beneath your eyelashes before focusing on the object in your hands again.

“Smartass,” you mumble. Carefully, you open the bag and something tiny and silver tumbles out into your palm. You set the bag down and pinch the gift between two fingers to get a closer look at it. It’s a charm for your bracelet. A small sun stares back at you, shiny silver rays haloing the circle.

“You know,” Eddie says, voice unusually sheepish, as you inspect your present. “Since we’re going to the beach for Spring Break.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him. Each charm on your bracelet stands for a special moment in your relationship with Eddie, and this is no different. The fact that he wants to commemorate these moments as much as you do gives you a fuzzy feeling far better than the cozy nap you just took. You lower the charm so you’re able to see your boyfriend’s beautiful face. “I love it. Thank you so much.”

Eddie catches you as you practically throw your body against his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck. Emotions aren’t always the easiest to express, but you hope that you’re conveying just how touched you are by the strength in which you’re holding onto him.

“Good,” Eddie says as he runs his hand up and down your back. “Do you want me to put it on you?”

“Yes!” Reluctantly, you let Eddie slip out of your arms and present your left wrist to him. He easily attaches the fourth charm to your bracelet, and it joins the music note, telephone, and “E” that already reside on your favorite piece of jewelry.

“There ya go,” Eddie says as he watches you admire your new addition.

“How did I get the sweetest boyfriend in the world?” you ask as you lean forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I guess you’re just that amazing, huh?” You feel his breath hit your lips as Eddie lets out a small chuckle. “Mm, what do you say we get back on the road?”

In your own perfect little bubble with Eddie right now, you forgot that the two of you were even headed somewhere. It even takes your mind a second to remember where, because it’s so filled with Eddie.

The beach, you remind yourself. We’re going to the beach in North Carolina because Eddie’s never seen the ocean and that’s another “first” checked off his list.

“Yeah, I guess we should.” As you climb back into the passenger seat, you notice the clock on the dashboard. There’s a slight grimace on your face as you turn towards Eddie, who is buckling himself back into the driver’s seat. “I don’t think we’ll get there by sundown.”

Eddie’s eyes go from the clock, to the meticulously positioned map on the dash, then to you.

“Nah, we’re too far out,” he agrees. “We don’t want to push ourselves and we’re not in a hurry. How about we drive a little more for today, then see if we can find a place to park it for the night?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

There’s no more bad weather as you drive down the interstate. The skies are bright blue and powdery clouds float by from time to time. There isn’t much to look at outside the windows, as the highway is surrounded by woods on both sides. Watching pine tree after pine tree go by in a blur can only entertain someone for so long. Occasionally, you’ll see a deer or two out at the edge of the trees, and you squeal in delight each time. It startled Eddie the first couple of times, but he finds your enthusiasm and joy so endearing that he doesn’t care one bit.

The road stretches on ahead of you, seeming like it will never stop; you’ll be passing the same handful of cars forever until you collectively fall off the edge of the earth. There are signs for exits every few miles, but nothing more interesting than some fast food, gas stations, and hotels.

The dimmer the sun’s light becomes in the sky, the more you pay attention to the signs you’re passing. Maybe there will be a campsite or a rest stop where you’ll be able to spend the night. But the further you drive, the more agitated you become at not seeing a suitable place for you to stop. Just as you’re about to tip from agitation into anger though, you pass a sign that gives you an idea.

“Hey, Eds? Try taking this exit here,” you say.

“You see something?” he asks as he checks his mirrors to make sure he can safely switch lanes.

“Yeah, something that might work.”

As Eddie pulls the van off onto the exit ramp, you keep your eyes peeled for a sign of which direction to go now. A blue sign with an arrow pointing right comes into view and you nod your head in that direction.

“This way.”

“Uh, babe?” Eddie says as he pulls out onto the highway. “This seems like a busy little area. I don’t think there’s gonna be any campsites or rest stops down here.”

“Well, apparently there aren’t any on this stretch of the east coast,” you sigh. “But, no, I had an idea. Just keep going this way.”

Eddie has no idea what you could have come up with, but he trusts you, so he follows your directions.

Just after driving two miles down the road, you spot it.

“Ah, there!” You point to the tall building that seems to rule over all the smaller buildings surrounding it.

“A hospital?” Eddie asks. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks at the building, sure he must be wrong about what this place is. But no, there it is on the sign: Mary Washington Hospital. “Why are we at a hospital?”

“Well, think about it,” you say with a shrug. “People are parked at hospitals all hours of the day. It’s not uncommon—especially in front of the emergency room—for families to wait in their car when they’re waiting on someone who’s being seen inside. There are security guards around and it’s pretty well lit, so it’s safe. We’ll just need to hang one of the blankets up to block out any light from coming in through the front windshield.”

Eddie can’t help but smile as he listens to your reasoning. He’s always known how smart you are, but sometimes the overt cleverness sneaks up and takes him by surprise.

“That is so smart, sweetheart. And we could always walk in and use the public bathrooms in there,” he adds.

“Exactly! And…” you trail off as you try to crane your neck around the area. “Aha! A McDonald’s just across the street. Food and more bathrooms there.”

The van pulls into the parking lot of the hospital and you both decide it’s better to park in the emergency room parking lot, though nowhere close to the building because that’s for people who come here with actual emergencies.

“All right,” Eddie says as he puts the van into park. “Hungry?”

“A little, yeah,” you say.

“If only we had gummy worms,” Eddie laments, dramatically flopping his head back as if this lack of sugary treat has killed him.

“I’m so sorry the grocery store by my school didn’t have gummy worms, Eddie. When I get back, I’ll write a formal complaint.”

Eddie peeks over at you and nods. “Tell them they’ve lost a customer forever.”

“I told you that you could’ve just gotten the gummy bears tho—”

“They are not the same!”

Once Eddie calms down about his lack of gelatin annelids, the two of you get out of the van and walk hand in hand to the crosswalk that will lead you across the street to McDonald’s. There was plenty of food in the van—minus what Eddie had already eaten through today—but, as Eddie pointed out, the van does not have French fries and McDonald’s does. It was a foolproof, winning argument.

The two of you decide to order for one another, pinky promising that whatever it is will come with fries. Eddie orders you a chicken nuggets meal, and knowing the size of his appetite, go with a Big Mac for him. Deciding that he wants to squeeze in on the same side of a booth as you, Eddie playfully squishes you between his body and the wall once you’ve chosen a table.

As much as you are enjoying your nuggets and fries, Eddie keeps distracting you every few minutes by resting his hand on your upper thigh. It causes you to almost spew soda out of your nose. Of course, this only makes it funnier to your boyfriend, who takes it as a sign to keep teasing you. Next, his arm “accidentally” brushes up against the side of your boob, which has you giving Eddie major side-eye as you bite into an overcooked, crispy fry. At one point, you look down to realize you have Big Mac Special Sauce both on the inseam of your pants and on the shoulder of your shirt. You can’t even recall one of his hands touching your shoulder at all. Leave it to Eddie to find a way, though.

After you’ve finished your dinners and probably overstayed your welcome at the table once all of your food was gone, you and Eddie take your time walking back to the van. It’s fully dark out by now, but as you’re right on a major highway, there are tons of lights around. There’s actually a bit of a glare between the lampposts, the car headlights, and all the lights illuminating from within the different shops and restaurants.

You stroll hand and hand up a few blocks, giggling together about nothing in particular, until you come to a stoplight and Eddie presses the button that alerts the crosswalk that you’re waiting there to cross the street.

“I don’t know about you,” Eddie whispers into your ear. There isn’t a need to whisper since there’s no one around, but you know his intentions when a shiver runs down your spine and he lets out a low chuckle. “But I think I’m ready to get back into the van. Hmm? Maybe spread some blankets out in the back? I’d say change into our pajamas, but I’d really prefer we wear nothing.”

“That sounds like a plan to me,” you say with a coy smile. A grin lights up Eddie’s face and it sends another shiver through you. You lace your fingers with his, soft skin meeting his rougher callouses, as the orange hand on the crosswalk sign fades into the white walking figure.

When you get back into the parking lot of the hospital, Eddie is practically skipping over to the van. An airy giggle escapes you when he yanks open the back door, bows, and gestures for you to go inside. He climbs in after you and makes sure the back doors are securely closed and slides the lock into place.

“Just you and me now, baby,” Eddie says as he turns towards you.

“Whatever shall we do?” you ponder with an over exaggerated shrug and shake of your head.

“Well,” Eddie says as he gets on his hands and knees. It’s amusing to see him crawling in the small space, blankets and luggage getting knocked around. “First thing we gotta do is hang a sheet up separating us from the front seats. There’s no way in hell I’m gonna let anyone who might be passing by get a glimpse of my girl in a compromising position. Oh, no. That’s all for me.” He practically purrs the last word, and it has your toes curling in your shoes.

Eager to help him and get this show on the road, you grab a maroon sheet out of the massive pile of linens and hand one corner to Eddie. He reaches up and touches the ceiling right behind the passenger seat. The strands of lights are being held up by tacks and it’s easy for Eddie to finagle one to hold up the sheet as well. After watching how he did it, you copy Eddie’s actions and hang the curtain up on the driver’s side.

Eddie purses his lips and plucks out one more tack that wasn’t necessary for the lights and uses it to fasten the middle of the sheet to the roof.

“Perfect,” you say. Now no one can see the two of you back there, and you’ll be protected from the sun coming in and blinding you in the morning.

The blankets scattered around the bottom of the van have shifted and bunched into piles from the way you and Eddie had been moving around. Trying the best he can in the cramped space, your boyfriend layers the thickest of the blankets one on top of another to provide some cushion for the two of you to lay on. You toss some of the pillows up towards the front of the van and they land with a light thump, brushing against the curtain.

Eddie is still inspecting the blankets around him, but you’ve decided it’s been long enough, and you’ve run out of patience. With no preamble, you whip your shirt off over your head and toss it in the general direction of your duffle bag. That certainly gets Eddie’s attention. His eyes are drawn to you like moths to a porch light. Hungrily, he looks you up and down, finding every bit of you even sexier than the last.

“Pants,” he growls. Who are you to deny him? It’s difficult in the limited space, but you manage to slide your jeans off and lay down on the downy bed of blankets.

Eddie’s own shirt joins yours, tossed aside as he crawls over you and hovers his body mere inches above your skin. He’s so close yet way too far away.

“Pants,” you repeat his command.

A cocky smirk grows on his plush pink lips, but he does as you say. He balances his body weight on one forearm while undoing his handcuff belt and fly with his other hand. The way he wiggles his hips to get the jeans off has you getting even wetter than you already were. His eyes glance down first at your bra and panties, then his own boxers that are covering his burgeoning erection.

“I suppose you want me naked now, huh?” he asks.

“No.” The smug smile along with the unexpected word has Eddie furrowing his brow in confusion. “I believe I requested you bring a certain piece of clothing with you on this trip?”

It takes Eddie a moment but when he realizes what you mean, he gives a playful roll of his eyes and chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it,” he feigns annoyance as he reaches over for one of his bags that is just beyond your head. How he’s doing this all with one hand is both impressive and hot. The muscles of the left arm ripple and move beneath his pale skin as that limb holds the weight of his entire torso up.

Completely on purpose, Eddie pulls the hockey jersey out of his bag and lets it fall flat on your face. The peal of your laughter makes him smile as he slowly pulls the rough material down, letting it reveal you bit by bit. First, the hair, then the eyebrows, then your eyes that shine as they meet his.

“I really think you should dress up as a fairy or a hot elf for me since I’m doing this for you,” Eddie says as he slips the Boston Bruins jersey over his head. Silently, you wonder if he’s worn it at all since the two of you bought the jerseys together in Boston. Anytime you watched a game on that tiny little screen in your dorm, you’d wear yours.

Eddie brings your attention back to the present as you watch him kick his boxers off and resettle himself over you.

“Noted,” you reply to his comment, already thinking of places to look for such an outfit.

“Ready to be fucked by a hockey player?” Eddie teases as he reaches down and lets two of his fingers dip below the waistband of your panties.

“Mm, no.” It’s hard to focus on your words when Eddie’s hands are desperately close to where you need them to be. “I-I’m ready to be fucked by my hot as fuck boyfriend while he wears a hockey jersey.”

A self-satisfied smirk graces Eddie’s features as he brings his body back down to hover over yours.

“You’re still wearing too much,” he whispers, his breath tickling your lips.

“Let me fix that, then.” You arch your back just enough to unhook your bra, and Eddie is happy to help you slip it off your arms and all the way off. The panties are tricky since Eddie’s body is so close to yours, but writhing your body just right gets the trick done—as well as turn your boyfriend on even more.

Eddie dips his head and starts leaving a trail of barely-there kisses from the curve of your shoulder all the way up to your jaw. Tension you weren’t even aware you had releases from your body, melting away under his touch. Soft lips climb to behind your ear, causing you to let out a shaky breath. You’re so busy focusing on the feeling of Eddie up near your head that you’re taken by surprise as your boyfriend presses his hips down against yours, pinning your pelvis between him and the blankets.

“Fuck,” you whine out as his hard cock presses up against your thigh.

“Mmm, what’s the matter, baby?” Eddie croons in your ear.

You’re tempted to play the brat; tell him that nothing is wrong and pretend he’s not driving you as wild as he is. But it’s been far too long since you’ve seen him–you can play games later, now you just need him.

“Please, Eddie,” you plead, voice edging on desperate.

“Please what?” You can practically hear him smirking against your skin.

“D-Don’t tease me. Not now,” you beg.

“You just need me that bad, huh?” Eddie knows he’s playing a dangerous game; he needs to be inside of you. But he loves getting you all worked up. The way you whine and writhe beneath him is addicting, and Eddie looks forward to when he can tease you like this for as long as he’d like. For now, though, he’ll pretend to give in to you.

“I gotcha baby, don’t worry,” he says softly, sending a pleasant tingle throughout your body.

A large hand grips your hip and gives it a gentle squeeze before he slides his fingers underneath your thigh and hikes your leg up. Letting that hand slip down to your core, Eddie drags two fingers through your folds. He lifts his head up so he’s able to look you in the eye. The cocky look on his face shouldn’t be as sexy as it is.

“Already drenched for me, aren’t ya, Princess?” Without giving you time to answer, his fingers disappear, and he brings them up to his mouth. “So fucking good.” He makes sure to lick all of your arousal off before leaning in and capturing your mouth with his own.

The moan you make is muffled against his lips as his tongue darts out for a taste of you–of your mouth this time. Your hitched up leg wraps around Eddie’s hips, which causes his cock to brush right over your clit. Instinctively, your hands reach up and grab onto Eddie’s shoulders, fisting the material of the jersey. The pressure with which you’re hanging on to him is sure to leave a number of bruises on his shoulder blades in the morning.

Eddie cups your face as he deepens the kiss, letting his tongue explore every inch of your mouth that he’s missed for so long. All the time apart just makes him even more grateful that you’re here in his arms now. Every ounce of yearning and love is conveyed through the kiss, both of you understanding all of this without a word needing to be spoken. The safety and security you find in one another leaves you sure beyond a doubt that Eddie’s soul is tied to yours. Wrapped up in a bright red bow, double knotted, never to come undone.

Feeling like a branding iron on your skin, Eddie slides his hand down from your cheek, trailing over your shoulder, breast, tummy, then down between your legs. Your back arches up into the scratchy material above you, reacting to the feeling of Eddie positioning himself at your entrance. The pleasurable stretch as he pushes into you has you clinging to the man you love, bliss overtaking you at the joining of your bodies again.

Only the way your lungs begin to feel on fire could have you pulling away from Eddie’s mouth. You gulp down air as he bottoms out. Frizzy curls tickle your neck and chin as your boyfriend’s head drops down to your shoulder. His grunts and groans as he pulls almost all the way out are music to your ears.

“Feel so good,” you mumble into his hair.

“God, you too, Princess.” The two of you moan in tandem as he thrusts back into you. “So fucking perfect.”

“Missed this. Missed you.”

A low chuckle rumbles out of his chest. “You’re stuck with me for the next week. And in pretty close quarters.”

“Good,” you say, wrapping your other leg around Eddie’s. “Want you close as possible.”

“Don’t think we can get much closer than this—oh, fuck, you’re so tight.”

“This. Off. Now.” Your words are stilted and choppy as you tug on the hem of the jersey. He looked hot in it and fucked you in it, but now it’s time to see him fully naked, scars and all.

He obeys, quickly shedding himself of the clothing before dipping back down and gently nipping at your neck.

You lick over your lips as Eddie picks his head back up, staring into your eyes as his hips begin to move back and forth, rocking your bodies together with every breath he takes.

The way those big brown eyes never leave yours, even for a second, makes this moment all the hotter. The drag of Eddie’s cock against your walls as he stares into your soul, seeing every little part of you, has you feeling lightheaded with joy.

“I love you,” you breathe out more than speak.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

Eddie gives a few more slow and steady thrusts before he begins to pick up the pace. Whimpers tumble out of your mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as Eddie pounds into you again and again and again. He slightly adjusts the angle of his hips and that causes him to hit that special spot inside of you just right.

“Yes!” Your shout echoes around the hollow van, but neither of you care. If your eyes could roll so far back they’d fall into your brain, they would right now as Eddie leads you to pure ecstasy. A particularly hard slam of his hips against yours causes your walls to clench around Eddie’s cock, evidence of just how incredible he’s making you feel.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie moans, throwing his head back. He closes his eyes as his teeth gnash at his bottom lip. “So tight, so wet.” When your walls give another spasm at his words, Eddie knows what direction to take this dirty talk in. “Oh, you love when I praise your pussy, don’t you, baby?”

The only response you’re capable of is a feeble nod of the head. It’s not enough of a reaction for Eddie though, so he keeps going.

“Such a perfect fucking pussy. God, so fucking pretty and it tastes even better. Do you know I thought about that every day?” Eddie smirks when you look up at him, eyes blown out, lost in lust. “It’s true,” he continues. “I’d come home from work and wrap my hand around my cock. Think about how unbelievably good you taste, baby. Such a sweet fucking pussy. And it’s all mine, right? Say it. Fucking say it’s all mine.”

“I-It’s all yours,” you stutter.

“Goddamn right.”

A fingertip gently presses against your throat, and you look up at Eddie, his hair swaying back and forth with every rock of his hips. The rough calloused finger slowly and delicately trails up your neck, the curve up to your chin as you tilt your head up, and finally stops right beneath the edge of your chin. Eddie has positioned your head so you’re looking directly in his eyes. The look that finds you there is possessive, protective, and a little domineering. It almost makes you cum on the spot.

“That’s my good girl.”

“Oh fuck, Eddie, I’m gonna cum.”

A triumphant smile graces his pretty lips. It only seemed fair to him to go for your weakness, with how you clenching around him already brought him so close to finishing. He needed to even the score.

“Gonna cum with me, yeah?” Eddie asks. Fuck, you better hurry up then, he thinks.

“Y-Yes, Eddie.” You nod your head and slide your hands up until your fingers tangle in his hair. The feeling of his curls wrapping around your fingers is something you missed almost as much as having sex with him.

“Good girl,” Eddie praises again, only nudging you further towards the end of the cliff.

“I can’t last m-much longer,” you moan and Eddie silently thanks God. He knows he’s about thirty seconds from bursting.

“Okay, baby. Come on. Cum for me.”

With one last cant of his hips, the spark catches. The feeling of his warm releasing coating your walls only intensifies your own orgasm. Breath gets caught in your chest as the wave washes over you. Eddie’s hips keep pumping throughout it, but once he’s spent, he feels like he can’t move a muscle.

You lay there beneath him, watching his chest rise and fall and the small beads of sweat sliding down his chest. He looks so perfect like this. At that moment, you realize this is a sight that will forever be stored in your memory. Spent and happy, tired yet exhilarated. What makes it even better is that it’s because of you. This is far from the first time you’ve slept together but it’s still a dizzying, mystifying thought that it’s you that makes this beautiful, wonderful man feel so good. God, how you wish he never had to pull out of you.

As if not wanting that contact between the two of you to end either, Eddie leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before resting his own forehead against it.

“Stay here,” you whisper.

“Where exactly do you think I’d go?” he whispers in reply, huffing a small laugh.

“No,” you say, only slightly louder. “Stay on top of me. Inside me.”

“Yeah?” Eddie looks at you in concern, his eyebrows pulling slightly together. “I’m not hurting you?”

“Very much the opposite,” you assure him with a smile.

“Okay.” Eddie slowly lowers until most of his weight is on top of you. He nuzzles his head into your neck, and you reach up to stroke his hair.

Both of you know he’ll just naturally slip out of you as his cock softens, but right now it feels so good to have a little extra time to be connected in this way.

“Love you, baby,” Eddie mumbles into your neck. From the slight slur of his speech, you know he’s falling headfirst into sleep. The yawn you let out tells you that you’re right behind him.

“I love you, too, handsome. Goodnight.”

A soft sound comes from Eddie, maybe a small groan of acknowledgment. But you chuckle to yourself because you know he’s already fast asleep.

When you wake up, you see that clearly you and Eddie move around much more in your sleep than you would’ve thought. The two of you are not even close to being in the same positions as when you fell asleep. Then, he was on top of you, and you were gently stroking his hair. Now, you’re on the blanket face down, laying on your tummy, and Eddie is sprawled out like a starfish, his left arm slung across your lower back.

There’s a pounding between your eyes that makes you wince; you notice now that you’re more fully awake. A sharp, stabbing headache radiates up to the very top of your head.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

“Hmm?” Eddie says, his head popping up like a daisy out of the ground. “Whasgoin on?” He pushes himself up onto his elbows and lets out the world’s longest yawn.

“I just woke up with a horrible headache.” You reach up on top of your head and try to put pressure on it, which sometimes will relieve your headaches. No dice this time.

Eddie frowns and tilts his head to the side. “I don’t think we bought aspirin at the grocery store.”

“Must be the one thing in the store you missed,” you joke, trying to smile through the pain.

“Oh, my girlfriend is so funny.” Eddie’s voice is monotone as he picks up a pillow and throws it at you–but he makes sure to steer clear of your head. “Come on. Let’s get dressed and we’ll find a pharmacy. Gotta be one on this road somewhere. Seems to have every other type of establishment.” Suddenly, Eddie perks up and his eyes widen. “Ooh! Do you think there’s a game shop where I can get some new dice?”

Slowly, with your hand still pressed against your skull, you lift your head up to stare him down.

He sighs and rolls his eyes in response.

“Well, no shit, after we get you some medicine.”

After you’ve washed down a few Advil with some orange Gatorade, Eddie does look up and down the main highway to see if there’s a place he can find a new D20—in your favorite color he assures you, trying to appeal to your less-than-happy state from the pain. He comes up empty, so he just figures he’ll get some souvenir dice somewhere in North Carolina.

When he pulls the van onto the main highway, he glances over at you and sees you resting your head back against the headrest with your eyes closed.

“Are you gonna try and get a little bit more sleep, babe?”

“No,” you say. “Just resting my eyes, trying to get rid of this headache.”

He reaches over and gives your thigh a quick squeeze of affection. A few silent minutes go by before Eddie clicks on the radio. All of the stations are unknown to him since this is a new area, so he turns the dial to scan through, looking for some music to suit his tastes. Shot in the Dark by Ozzy Osbourne comes in through some static and Eddie excitedly keeps the station on. He keeps it at a reasonably low volume, but it’s still enough to prick the pain pulsating behind your eyes.

“Eds, can we turn the music off? My head is pounding.”

Your boyfriend glances over at you before looking back at the road. He shifts in his seat before responding.

“Uh, it kind of helps me concentrate on the road, babe,” he says. “Cause like, yesterday we were talking, and it kept my mind focused. But the quiet, it um, makes me wander off.”

“Once the Advil kicks in, you can play it again.” Part of you realizes that his reasoning is solid and fair, but your annoyance tolerance is way down.

“Well, how long is that gonna take?” he asks.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you snap. “I’m not a doctor. It shouldn’t be too long. Just please.”

With an irritated huff, he smacks the button that turns the radio on and off. Silence fills the van and though it may be peaceful for your ailing head, the tension in the air makes you feel ill in a different way.

I know this is just a dumb little fight, you think to yourself. But what if we keep having dumb little fights? Will they add up and become bigger fights? What if we end up arguing more than speaking civilly to one another? Would this be what it’s like to be sharing the same space as him for a while? What if we don’t work together in any other way than seeing each other every few months? Shit, now I’m not sure if I should have the conversation with him about Boston. Nancy would be calling me a coward right about now, and she’s probably right. I’m blowing everything way out of proportion. Too many “what ifs.” But…what if I’m wrong? Thinking about all of this while my head is throbbing is not a great idea, anyway. Now my mind is wandering. Maybe Eddie had a point about the music.

Eventually, the pain in your head begins to ease, which brings another matter to your attention.

“Uh, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we pull off at the next rest stop?”

“Yeah.”

The cold reply is well-deserved, but it still irks you. Refusing to be the one to break this new silence, you cross your arms over your chest and watch out the window, waiting impatiently to see a sign for your next respite.

Fortunately, it’s only about two miles up the road. Eddie parks into a spot close to the bathroom and you hop out without a word. Once he sees you disappear into the building, Eddie gets out of the van so he can stretch his legs. Long arms reach up high over his head to stretch out the other muscles in his body. He twists his torso and feels his back crack with a satisfying pop. His eyes catch on the vending machines as he’s facing the other way.

“Hmm,” he hums to himself as he walks over to it. Yes, there’s a ton of food in the van, but maybe Eddie can get one of your favorite candies for you. It’ll be like an olive branch.

A few minutes later, when you come out of the bathroom, your eyes catch on the vending machines across the way. Maybe a peace offering in the form of food would be the best way to make up. You secure the bag of Skittles and head back down to the van. Eddie sees you, his eyes drop down to your hands, and he lets out a laugh.

“Looks like you and I think alike,” Eddie says, brandishing a KitKat.

“I’m sorry I was crabby,” you say, sticking out your bottom lip. “Can I buy back your affection with some Skittles?”

Eddie pretends to consider it as he taps the chocolate bar against his chin thoughtfully.

“Okay. But only if you give me a kiss.”

“Done.”

You hand him his Skittles, he hands you your KitKat, and then you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into his body. The warm and safe feeling of him encircling your waist with his arms sends butterflies erupting from your belly.

“I love you,” you whisper before leaning in and pressing your lips firmly against his. The kiss is returned enthusiastically, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth.

“I love you, too,” he says once you part.

The sound of a child crying has the two of you separating. Eddie opens his mouth to say something when his eyes catch something over your shoulder.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but not to you. Gently releasing you from his grip, your boyfriend steps around you and crouches down to be at the level of a boy who can’t be more than five or six. “Are you okay?”

“I-I can’t find my mommy,” he says through the loudest sniffles you’ve ever heard. He rubs his eye with a small fist, his chest rising and falling quickly with his shallow breathing.

“Where’d you last see her?” Eddie asks.

The way Eddie tilts his head and speaks so softly and calmly to the child makes something inside your heart flutter. While there’s a little boy lost and crying in front of you, you do your best not to smile, though you’re suddenly filled with a strange sense of joy.

“Okay,” you hear your boyfriend respond to whatever it is the child said. He presses his hand against his own chest. “My name is Eddie. I’m sure we can find your mom.”

“Drew? Drew!”

A woman’s voice calls throughout the parking lot and your head turns in her direction.

“Are you Drew?” Eddie asks. When the little boy nods, Eddie smiles at him. “Then I think we found your mom. See? That was easy.”

You’re able to flag down the woman and let her know her son is about three cars down with your boyfriend. She sighs in relief and follows you over to her son. Drew runs into his mother’s arms and Eddie stands back up. The mother can’t thank you enough, though you assure her that you’d just stumbled upon him a few seconds ago.

Once they walk away, you sidle up next to Eddie and wrap your arm around his waist.

“You’re good with kids.”

A strong arm wraps around you and pulls your chest flush against his.

“I mean, I’ve learned that if you’re mean to them, they tend to cry and scream. I hate that shit.”

Back on the road, it’s smooth sailing for a while, but eventually, you run into traffic. It’s spotty in a few places, slowing down and speeding up again. The red taillights that keep popping up every so often are not as fun as the Christmas lights blinking behind the curtain at your backs.

After about an hour of touch-and-go stopping, the whole stretch of highway comes to a complete stop. Eddie finished his Skittles long ago and his frustration has been growing ever since. Leaning forward, you pop the radio on and scan for a song that might calm him down. If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend, it’s that music is a balm for his soul. Head by Prince comes over the sound waves and it sparks a brilliant idea in you.

“Baby? I think you need to relax.”

He sighs and drops his head back against the headrest, his hair bouncing back in reverberation.

“Easier said than done.”

Even though he isn’t looking your way, you feel yourself blush at what you’re about to suggest. As if he didn’t basically fuck you to sleep last night.

“I think I might be able to help you with that, though…”

At the sound of your seatbelt unclicking, Eddie looks at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” he asks. “What are you doing?”

You slide out of your seat and onto your knees on the van floor. The last time you attempted to do this Dustin rammed the back of Eddie’s van. Hopefully this attempt goes better. Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, still unsure about what you’re doing until you shuffle close enough to pull at his belt.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie moans. A smile lights up his face and he’s scrambling to help you shove his pants and boxers down his hips. Just the idea of you giving him road head already has him half hard, so it doesn’t take very much to start getting him worked up as you pump him with your hand.

“Want you to feel better, Eddie,” you say, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you can manage. The way his cock twitches in your grip boosts your ego. You lean down and lick a stripe up the side of his cock.

“Shit,” Eddie hisses.

You press soft kisses all the way up his length, only to take him into your mouth as you get to the tip. Eddie’s foot presses harder on the break as he watches himself disappear in your mouth.

“Fuck, I better put this in park.” He shifts the gear since the traffic isn’t moving anyway, and you can’t help but chuckle around him. It sends a vibration up his cock that has him reaching down and clutching the back of your head.

Your pace starts out slow, bobbing your head, taking him a little bit deeper each time. Eddie’s thick fingers tense against you and it encourages you to take him in as far as you can, until your nose brushes against the dark curls at his base. His hand is warm against your head, firm, but not pushing you.

You pull off, breathing heavily, and dive back in to swipe your tongue over his balls the best you can from this position.

“Holy shit.” Eddie lets go of you and he rubs over his face with both hands. You’re pretty sure his soul is about to leave his body when you suck a ball into your mouth. You let it go with a pop, only to engulf him in the wet warmth of your mouth again.

“My God, you’re fucking perfect.”

He’s painfully hard against your tongue. It encourages you to bob your head faster than before, eager to get Eddie to his release. It’s not long until his breathing turns shallow, and you can feel his legs tensing up beneath your hands.

“G-Gonna cum, baby,” he warns you, giving you time to pull off if you want. But you don’t. A soft hum around him lets him know that you want him to finish in your mouth. That’s all he needs, a groan emanating from the back of his throat as he cums down yours.

You do your best to swallow everything he gives you, only pulling off when you’re satisfied with your own work. As you sit back on your knees, you bring your hand up to wipe off anything on your face that you might have missed. Eddie’s panting, pressed back against the seat, a lazy smile on his face as his gaze shifts to you.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he says.

“More relaxed?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs with a laugh. “Definitely feel better.”

Once traffic gets moving again, the rest of the highway is a breeze. When it starts to get dark, there’s not much farther to go until you reach the coast. A few miles before you get there, you spot a cozy little restaurant that looks like the perfect hole-in-the-wall kind of place for dinner. You’ve both been holed up in the van all day though, so you hop into the back and change into different, nicer clothes. As you’re looking for your new outfit in just your bra and panties, Eddie comes up behind you and promises to return the favor for relaxing him so much earlier. It takes all of your mental energy to put those new clothes on instead of taking the little left that you’re wearing off.

How you manage to hold your ground, you’re not sure, but you do. The air this close to the ocean is a little chillier at night so you opt for a nice purple, long sleeved shirt, and Eddie slips his leather jacket over one of the multiple Metallica shirts he packed. It’s not a far walk from the van to the front door of the restaurant, but Eddie insists on holding your hand the whole way there anyway. Keeping up his streak of being a gentleman, he opens the door and gestures for you to walk inside. The instant you step over the threshold you’re greeted by the scent of baking bread and something cooking that’s heavy on the garlic. It immediately gets your mouth watering.

“Hi, how many this evening?” the hostess asks as you and Eddie step up to her small, sturdy podium.

“Two,” you say.

“All right, you can follow me.”

Eddie laces his fingers with yours just for the twenty foot walk over to where you’re seated. The hostess leads you between tables covered in white tablecloths with small copper lanterns sitting in the middle of each. The lighting in the whole restaurant is dim, but it adds to the calm and quiet ambiance. The beautiful orchestrations coming from overhead speakers are the cherry on top of this romantic scenery, which is most definitely the vibe they were going for.

Before Eddie steps around to his side of the table, he pulls your chair out for you. There is never a shortage of sweet gestures with Eddie, but you’re not sure if you’ve ever been in a place this nice with him. The chivalry plus the romantic setting has you feeling giddy and bubbly.

Once Eddie has slid you in closer to the table, he notices a shiver and the way your shoulders hunch up. He slips his leather jacket off and gently drapes it over your shoulders. You’re not expecting it, so it startles you at first, but then you just giggle as you wrap it tighter around you.

“Thank you, handsome,” you say as he takes his seat on the opposite side of the table from you.

“Your waitress this evening will be Miranda, and she should be with you shortly,” the hostess informs you.

“Thank you,” you say before she walks back towards the front of the restaurant.

Now that it’s just the two of you together, you take advantage of looking around the place. Three of the interior walls of the restaurant are made to look like gray stone—you wonder if it actually is and have the sudden urge to touch it. The fourth wall is an accent wall, painted a deep red. Waiters walk around in white button-up shirts and black ties. It’s such a charming little place and you’re glad that you get to experience it with Eddie.

Miranda, your waitress, comes to take your orders, and by the look of confusion on both your and Eddie’s faces, she tries to explain what some of the fancier sounding dishes are. She’s very kind and thoughtful without being condescending. A perfect “mom” temperament, you think.

As soon as she leaves with your orders, Eddie reaches across the table and takes your hand in his own. His thumb traces patterns on the palm of your hand for a few moments before purposefully tickling your hand. A small squeak escapes your lips, and you yank your hand back. Eddie chuckles and when you look up at him, ready to give him some kind of witty remark, it dries up on your tongue. The way Eddie is looking at you steals your breath. There’s a smile on his face and his eyes are crinkled in the corners, but it’s the way his eyes are focused on you. The look could be described as nothing less than adoring. Heat rises to your cheeks at the unwavering attention. Normally anyone looking at you this long would make you uncomfortable, but this is Eddie. There is not a thing about him that has made you uncomfortable since you met him.

“What’re you thinking about?” Eddie asks, tilting his head like an inquisitive puppy.

“You. How I’m still not sure how it’s possible to be this happy.”

The honesty of the answer and the sincerity in your voice cause a wave of emotions to crash over Eddie as well. Again, he reaches over and takes your hand. But this time all he does is lace his fingers with yours and simply hold it.

Small soft conversations are held between the two of you as you wait for your food. But more than with words, the two of you silently communicate with one another. The squeeze of a hand, a facial expression, or the look in the other’s eyes. When silence settles over your table it’s not awkward in the least. It’s comfortable. It’s you and your person, just being together. Being in his presence is all you need.

Ironically, when the food arrives, you talk more. Before, your mouths weren’t busy, yet there were sparse words spoken. But now that you both have to talk between bites—of spaghetti in his case and eggplant in yours—the conversation flows open and freely.

“All right,” Eddie says as he twirls some pasta around his fork. “Five movies you’d wanna watch together. Because you want to show it to me or just because you wanna watch it in general. Go.”

“Oh jeez,” you say with a sigh. “There’s just so many great ones out there. Okay, let me think… Little Shop of Horrors—the new one. Um… The Outsiders, one of my favorites.”

“Because of Rob Lowe?” Eddie asks, a smirky smile on his face.

“No. Well, not just because of him,” you say. “Hmm…oh, The Shining. I’ve never been able to finish because I always get scared. But that just gives me an excuse to be held by you, though.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie promises with a wink.

“My hero.” You blow him a kiss, then try to think of two more movies. “Some Like it Hot. Can’t go wrong with a Marilyn Monroe flick. Let’s see, one more. Oh! And E.T. I always cry at that one. And want Reese’s Pieces.”

“I think I can provide those for a movie night,” Eddie says.

It’s wonderful to talk about future plans with Eddie. Yeah, there are the bigger questions to be asked when you intend to be committed to a person, but these smaller, more detailed don’t-have-to-be-too-far-in-the-future plans are great fun to think about. Planning what you’d like to do for his next birthday, or thinking of places that you’d love to vacation together. Just to have these thoughts, ideas, fantasies about doing all these incredible things with the person you’re in love with is enough to make you feel lovesick.

After you’ve eaten enough eggplant that you feel you’re close to bursting, you set your napkin down on the table and slip Eddie’s jacket from your shoulders.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna use the bathroom,” you say as you stand up and hang his jacket on the back of your chair. As you walk past Eddie in the direction of the restrooms, you lean in and press a quick kiss to the top of his head before you keep going.

Eddie smiles to himself and tries to get the last few noodles on his plate to cooperate and get on his fork. Someone clearing their throat gets Eddie’s attention and his head snaps up. An older lady with snowy white hair and a pageboy haircut sitting at the table next to yours leans in towards Eddie, trying to get his attention. She’s seated on the far side of the table, just like you, so it’s easy for Eddie to spot her. He can see the woman’s husband in his peripheral vision as well.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she says, an apologetic look pinching her face, “but I just wanted to let you know that you two are adorable.”

The words instantly have Eddie grinning like a madman. He’s momentarily flustered, and that’s a feat very few people accomplish.

“Thank you,” he finally says.

Now, the husband turns towards Eddie and leans over as if he’s going to let the younger man in on a secret.

“You be good to her,” the man says, kindly, but firm enough to make his point.

“Oh, there’s no worry about that,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “I’m going to marry that girl someday.”

The woman clasps her hands together under her chin and looks at Eddie with eyes that he can practically hear saying, “awwwwww!” Some heat rises to his cheeks, but when you walk back up to the table, he does his best to compose himself.

You slip Eddie’s jacket back on, reveling in the warmth and scent of your boyfriend. As you’re debating on whether or not you want one last bite of the eggplant, the woman seated at the table on your right catches your attention.

“I just have to say,” she starts, with a melancholic smile, “you two remind me of me and my husband back when we were young.”

For some reason, that comment makes you more emotional than any other compliment she could have paid you. An older and seemingly happy couple sees themselves in you when they were young. It brings you visions of an elderly you and Eddie sitting outside on the front porch, watching your grandchildren play in the yard. A soft rain begins to come from the sky and all the kids run up onto the porch to take cover. Eddie snatches up the youngest and holds them prisoner in his lap while he tickles them. You have to force yourself out of that daydream because you’re making yourself emotional.

Soon after, the older couple gets up from their chairs and bids you and Eddie a goodnight before they leave. Just as the two of you are discussing if you should order dessert or not, Miranda delivers a hot fudge sundae to your table. For a brief moment you wonder if she’s a mind reader.

“Um, we didn’t order this,” Eddie says, clearly confused about the confection as well.

Miranda beams, the corners of her eyes crinkling up the subtle crow’s feet around her eyes. She looks as if she has a huge secret, and she can’t wait to share it with someone.

“George and Rhonda wanted to send this over. The couple who was seated here next to you.” Miranda points to the table the elderly couple were sitting at. “They’re regulars, but I don’t think they’ve ever ordered anything for someone else before.” She seems so overjoyed just at sharing this news, but her eyes light up with an extra spark as she remembers something. “They also paid your bill.”

At first, you’re sure that Miranda isn’t talking to you and Eddie. This type of kind gesture is something you’ve only seen on television or movies. The warmth of tears begins to build behind your eyes and your throat feels tight as you turn to look at your boyfriend. He looks just as baffled as you do. Though, where you look overwhelmed and emotional, Eddie looks flustered. His mouth keeps opening and closing, wanting to say something, but is coming up blank.

“Wow,” he finally manages, all other words failing him.

“Are they still here?” you ask, clearing your throat once you hear how shaky your voice is.

“No, they left a few minutes ago.”

Eddie knocks a chunky ring against the table, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. His face is slightly pinched, clearly thinking about something.

“You said they’re regulars, right?” he asks.

“They are,” Miranda affirms. “Come in at least twice a month.”

Eddie’s head swivels to you and he raises his eyebrows. “How does writing them a thank you letter sound?”

His absolute thoughtfulness once again astounds you. Sometimes you think about how rough the beginning of Eddie’s life was, and how it definitely hasn’t been a piece of cake since then either. His heart has been played with, broken, crushed—and that doesn’t even include any physical pain he’s gone through. But he still has this kind heart that’s never been beaten out of him.

“I like that idea,” you agree. Now you wish you had brought your purse instead of just shoving your wallet in your pocket. There’s a pen and probably thirty scraps of paper in there. “Miranda, do you have a pad and pen we can borrow?”

“Of course.” Miranda looks equally moved by Eddie’s proposal, and she doesn’t even know the half of how incredible he is.

After Miranda returns with a pen bearing the restaurant’s name and a receipt pad, Eddie hunches over the table, tapping the pen against the surface as he thinks of what to write. Inspiration strikes and Eddie scribbles against the paper. Silently, you wonder if you’ll have to rewrite it if your boyfriend’s chicken scratch is illegible.

Eddie slides the pad over to you and you lean in to read it.

Dear George and Rhonda,

We already couldn’t thank you enough for your kind words to us, but now we’re pretty speechless with the dessert and paid bill. We asked Miranda to give you this note the next time you’re here so we can at least show you a fraction of how grateful we are.

That’s where the note stops, so you pick up the pen and write beneath his words.

This is possibly the nicest thing that’s ever been done for us. You’ve put the cherry on top of our first vacation together…and I’m not just saying that because there’s a cherry on top of this sundae we’re staring at right now. We wish there was some way that we could repay your goodwill. I guarantee you that we’ll find a way to pay it forward though.

You show Eddie to get his approval on it. Once he nods in agreement, you both sign your names on the bottom. Both of you are still stunned as you walk out of the restaurant full of ice cream and hot fudge.

The night sky is a black canvas dotted with intermittent sparkles shining down as you walk back to the van with Eddie. Even with how far you are away from the beach, you can smell the salt blowing in the wind.

Eddie jingles the keys to the van as he slips the keyring over his forefinger. Instead of opening the door, he leans up against the multicolored siding and tugs you by your hips until you’re pressed up against him.

“How’s watching the sunrise over the ocean tomorrow morning sound?” he asks.

“Literally can’t think of a better way to show you the beach for the first time.” You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to press a few chaste kisses to his lips.

“It’s really nice out,” Eddie says, looking up at the sky and around at the sleepy coastal town. “What do you say we find somewhere to park the van and I’ll climb up and put a blanket on the top so we can lay there and look at the stars?”

You stare at him without answering, which has him cocking an eyebrow. When you start poking his chest and shoulders with your finger, he becomes even more confused.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Proving that you’re real,” you say.

Eddie huffs a laugh and tugs you forward by your still outstretched finger. He squishes you against his chest, completely engulfing you in his arms.

“Is that a yes?”

The perfect spot to park the van for the evening is only a few blocks from the beach, in the back of a motel parking lot. There are cars parked closer to the building, but there’s no one out walking around or making any noise to disrupt the sound of the waves crashing against the beach in the near distance.

This is the perfect time to ask Eddie the question you’ve been intending to on this trip. Realizing that you’re really about to ask this, to possibly take this step, or possibly feel disheartened and a bit rejected, has your stomach tying itself in a knot. Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe you should ask later in the trip so if he says no then it won’t be a gray cloud looming over the rest of Spring Break. No, you decide. It’s going to be now.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, was wondering if��I mean, I wanted to ask, uh, if…do–uh, um...”

As your rambling trails off, you feel Eddie’s fingers intertwine with yours where your hands lay between your bodies.

“What’s gotcha tongue tied, baby?” he asks.

“I want to, I mean, I’m trying to–to...” You’re just flustering yourself at this point and let out an irritated sigh.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie assures you, rubbing his thumb against the side of your hand. “Why don’t I go first, huh?”

“Okay.” You weren’t aware there was something he wanted to say.

Carefully, Eddie maneuvers onto his side so he’s facing you. When you move to do the same, he helps you stay steady until you’re lying face to face. He leans in and presses a kiss to your nose, making you wrinkle up your face and let out a small giggle.

Eddie raises his right hand to slip his mood ring off and holds it up between the two of you.

“Can I give you this?” he asks, soft voice almost carried away on the breeze. “Mostly because I would love for you to wear my ring, but maybe also a little bit so I can know what your mood is.” The last part is a joke, but also kind of not.

Words fail you again, so you nod enthusiastically. “I would love to wear it.”

Eddie slides it onto your left thumb–the only finger it won’t fall off of–and brings your cold fingertips up to his lips.

“I’ll love you forever,” he whispers.

“That’s how long I’ll wear this ring.”

“Yeah?”

“I promise.” You kiss the stone set in the ring and Eddie gives it a kiss after you.

The courage to ask Eddie what you wanted to has come out of hiding now that his ring is on your finger. It asks you why you were ever scared to ask him in the first place. It’s Eddie.

“So, I wanted to ask you something. Or—talk to you about something. Well, kind of both I guess…” You’re blabbering again, but it’s a bit more cohesive this time. Now it's more a matter of not knowing how to phrase it.

A warm and encouraging hand lands on your upper arm and rubs up and down soothingly.

“It’s okay, baby. Take all the time you need.”

“You, um, you know how I’m coming home for the summer, right?” You internally cringe, knowing you’re not off to the best start.

“Yeah, isn’t that how semesters work?” Eddie asks with a playful smirk.

“All right, Mr. Smarty Pants,” you say with a playful slap to the chest. “Then you know that I’ll be going back again in the fall.”

“Unfortunately,” he says.

“Well…when the next semester starts, Nancy and I are going to get an apartment together,” you explain.

“That’s a good idea. Both of you had such shitty roommates this year and you don’t wanna take that chance again.”

“Right! Exactly.” You say it a bit too loud, but you reign yourself in. “So, Steve’s actually going to come move up to Boston and live with us. He and Nancy will have their room, I’ll have mine.”

Eddie isn’t sure how to react at first. He’s not entirely sure how he feels about that because, one, it feels like he’s losing another friend to Boston. Two, even though Steve is a great friend, Eddie is a little uncomfortable having his girlfriend live with another guy.

His silence has your courage ready to slink away with its tail between its legs, so you just keep going before it goes back in hibernation mode for good.

“And I, um, I was wondering—I mean, Nancy and I have talked about it, of course, and only if you want to…”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie interrupts with a chuckle. “You can say anything to me, you know that.”

“WouldyouwannamovetoBostonandlivewithus?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Uh, h-how would you feel about maybe moving to Boston too? Nance a-and Steve would have their room, and w-we could have ours. I know we haven’t been together a long time or even known each other a long time, but…I don’t know. It doesn’t feel too fast for me. I mean, it might for you, I-I don’t know. If someone had told me five months ago that I’d be ready to live with a guy after four months of knowing one another I’d have said they were crazy. But…here I am. I-I don’t want you to feel pressured or rushed or anything like that, I just wanted to put the offer out there in case you want to think about it or—”

Eddie silences your rambling by cupping your face and pressing his lips up against yours. It lasts a few seconds before he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours.

“There is nothing that would make me happier than falling asleep next to you every night and waking up next to you every morning.”

His answer has a load lifting off of your shoulders that you hadn’t realized was quite this heavy. Between relief and happiness, emotion bubbles up until there are tears streaming down your face.

“Are you sure?” you ask, wanting to make sure. “You c-can think about it.”

“I did,” he says seriously. “Only took about a second because I’m so sure. I’d love to live with you, baby.”

You bury your face in Eddie’s neck, careful not to be forceful enough to knock him towards the edge of the roof. He rests his head against yours as you cling to him, the tears still flowing.

“I love you so much, Eddie.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. So fucking much.”

He chuckles as he holds you even closer, causing you to peek up at him.

“What?”

“Just thinking how it’s good I got this van, huh? Getting us used to sleeping practically on top of one another.”

“Eddie, we can get a bigger bed, we won’t have to sleep—”

“Oh, we most certainly will.”

Eddie is the first to wake up the next morning. He doesn’t want to move from the pile of blankets he’s lying on. That causes some confusion in him, though. When he fell asleep, there was definitely a blanket on top of him, and not nearly this many under him. Forcing himself to open his eyes and move from his comfortable position, Eddie sits up and looks through squinted eyes to see what shape your bed area is in.

Somehow the blanket Eddie fell asleep beneath is now under your head. You’re also practically curled into your own duffle bag on the side of the van. He’s still not sure how he ended up laying amongst the mass of blankets, but he shrugs it off.

The muscles in Eddie’s back and abdomen thank him as he stretches his body over towards the maroon sheet acting as your bedroom door. He moves it aside to see the sky just beginning to wake up. Perfect. The faint call of seagulls calling and waves crashing to shore tugs the corners of his mouth up in a smile. He’s actually going to see the ocean today. Another first, with you, the only one he’d want to experience all firsts with.

A sound comes from you, but Eddie isn’t sure if it’s a yawn or a hiccup. He chuckles and turns back around to see you roll onto your back. One of your arms goes up to rest above your head, the other resting across your stomach. When your legs move, opening slightly to adjust your hips, an idea forms in Eddie’s mind. He did say he was going to repay the favor from when you gave him road head yesterday. Plus, he remembers your exact words after you woke him up with a blowjob back when he stayed with you in January: “Waking up with you between my legs sounds insanely hot, actually.”

As stealthily as he can manage, Eddie crawls over and slowly spreads your legs wide enough until he can kneel between them. The Megadeth t-shirt of his that you slept in last night has ridden up a little in your sleep, so Eddie doesn’t need to adjust that before he slowly and gently hooks his fingers into the sides of your lacy green panties. He takes his time, not wanting to wake you or inadvertently rip your underwear. It’s challenging to get the panties over the curve of your ass, but Eddie manages. He also manages to take his time to feel your ass up properly.

Once he finally gets the garment all the way off you, he breathes a sigh of relief. Hopefully this would be the hardest part. He starts to wonder how you pulled down his pajama pants and boxers when you woke him up like this a few months back. But then it hits Eddie: he sleeps like the dead.

The blankets on the floor make it easy for Eddie to slide down to his stomach quickly and quietly. When he goes a little too far back, however, he needs to army crawl his way back until he’s close enough.

Gently and carefully as to not hurt you or jostle you too much, Eddie spreads your legs further apart until your pussy is on display for him. A low groan reverberates through Eddie’s chest and he’s not sure how he’s going to be able to keep himself quiet while enjoying his favorite thing to eat. Eddie wraps his left arm under your leg to steady himself before he goes in and takes the first lick of your delicious pussy that he’s been craving since the last time his mouth was down here.

Eddie moves your right leg so it’s resting over his shoulder, and it gives him an even better vantage point as he spreads your labia to get a look at the goods beneath. He swears, this must be how happy the kids felt when they found those Golden Tickets in their damn Wonka bars. Elation and excitement is dancing up and down his veins.

Determined to waste no more time, Eddie dives in properly and instantly moans against your clit as he relishes in your taste. His addiction is being fed and he’s not sure how he’s been able to go this long without it. His long tongue runs over your entrance, dipping in a few times just to be a tease. Your leg over his shoulder moves just slightly and the smallest of grunts comes from above him. Eddie doesn’t plan on taking his mouth off of your pussy long enough to check if you’re awake or not, though.

Eddie tilts his head up just slightly and flicks your clit with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it. Now, you’re really starting to get animated. More indistinguishable noises and small movements. When Eddie goes back to lapping at your hole, he makes sure his nose bumps up against your clit. A pleasurable moan that Eddie’s come to know very well fills the air.

“Oh, fuck, Eddie,” you whine as you arch your back. “God, that feels so good.”

Now that you’re awake, Eddie kicks it up a notch and starts to devour your pussy. He buries his face so far between your legs that you wonder how he can breathe. A string of involuntary moans and whimpers fall from your lips as you turn your head to the side and squeeze your eyes shut.

The muscles in your body begin to tighten and you try to tell your body that you don’t want to cum yet, that you want to keep enjoying this. Looking down was a mistake though, because the moment you see Eddie’s head between your thighs you feel like you could cum on the spot.

With your top teeth digging into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, you reach down for the crown of Eddie’s head with one hand, eager to grab at it and get your fingers lost in the frizzy mess.

“E-Eddie?”

“Mm?” He hums the responses against your pussy, too busy trying to taste every bit of you. There’s no time for words when his mouth is occupied for a far better reason.

“Look at me. Want you to look up at me,” you say, shallow breaths and little whines punctuating the sentence.

Eddie does as he’s told and lifts his head a bit so he can cast his eyes up and meet your gaze. The way that those molten chocolate eyes never waver, never look away while he keeps pleasuring you is your tipping point.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” you stutter, your one hand gripping onto Eddie’s head for dear life, and the other one clutching at a plush blue blanket so hard that your knuckles turn whiter than the whipped cream you shared at dinner last night.

Two thick fingers breach your hole, and the tongue focuses solely on your clit now.

“Eddie, I’m not gonna…I-I can’t,” you ramble. “Can't hold out. Gotta cum.”

Moaning as if he was the one getting the best oral sex of his life, Eddie pulls away from your pussy to say, “Cum on my tongue, sweet girl. Please.”

Your hips want to jerk, and your legs want to close around Eddie’s head; somehow, you’re able to resist. The vice grip he has on you probably has something to do with it.

With one last moan of your boyfriend’s name, your back arches off the blanket below you and a feeling of euphoria crashes over you. Eddie helps work you through it, pumping his fingers as sparks shoot off behind your closed eyes and your breathing turns erratic. The high spreads all throughout your body, and as it fades, leaves complete satisfaction and tranquility in its wake.

Eddie slips his fingers from your pussy, the sensation causing a brief moment of longing in your otherwise content body. Lazily, you blink your eyes open to see the two fingers that were just inside of you in Eddie’s mouth. He winks at you, causing you to give a breathy chuckle, your breathing still trying to return to its normal rhythm. There’s a soft thud next to you when Eddie plops down to lie at your side. You waste no time scooting closer and laying your head on his bare chest. A comforting arm wraps around you, and you return the gesture by placing a few soft kisses along a particularly deep scar on his chest.

“Morning, beautiful,” Eddie says quietly.

“That’s one hell of a way to wake up, handsome.” You tilt your head up to grin at him, only to find him beaming right back down at you.

Heaving an overdramatic groan, Eddie takes you by surprise and pulls you impossibly tight against his chest, arms holding you prisoner there.

“Can’t breathe.”

“Geez,” Eddie whines, “what’s more important? My hugs or your precious air supply?”

The goofy and flirty tone keeps up as the two of you get ready for the day. Being in such a cramped space, the two of you keep bumping into one another as you look for your swimsuits. Eddie takes advantage of the moments of closeness by stealing kisses. His surprised face is priceless when you turn the tables and steal one from him.

Once you’ve got your bathing suit out, laying on top of your pile of clothes, you shrug out of your shirt. As you pick up the swimsuit, you see Eddie staring at you from the corner of your eye. A loud chuckle busts out of you as you look over to see him ogling your boobs.

“Aren’t you used to seeing them by now?”

Eddie shakes his head and makes grabby hands for you. “No. Gimme.”

You roll your eyes but let him grope your chest as you pull the dark green bathing suit up your legs and over your ass. Eddie’s hands are forced out of the way as you situate the top of your suit to get it to sit right. He may let go of your boobs, but he gives your ass a smack before changing into his own bathing suit.

“Have you had enough?” you ask once his trunks are on. “Can we go see the ocean now?”

“Never enough. But yes, let’s go.”

It’s only a few blocks to the beach and Eddie finds the prime spot since it’s so early in the morning. Sandy dunes littered with beach grass block your view of the ocean, but the sound and smell are unmistakable. The call of a seagull adds to the symphony of waves as you and Eddie get out of the van. A glimpse at Eddie’s face shows he’s grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. It makes your heart skip a beat as you slip your hand into his. He tosses both of your towels on the opposite shoulder and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Ready to see the ocean?” you ask.

“Let’s do it.”

The two of you walk onto the small boardwalk that takes you over the sand dunes. The excitement is practically radiating off of Eddie as you get to the peak of the dock. You’re paying more attention to him than where you’re walking, so you hope you don’t trip.

The moment Eddie’s eyes first see the water, his hand reflexively tightens around yours. His entire face is lit up, his eyes bright and smile infectious. It makes him look years younger, his inner child filled with glee. With every step closer to the water, the antsier he gets. The beach is mostly empty, not a whole lot of people are here to watch the sunrise. And those who are waiting for the dawn are so spread out that you can barely hear the laughter that blows along with the gentle breeze.

You find a spot far enough from the water and kick off your sandals. Eddie follows your lead and spreads the two towels out, though they’re going to get covered in sand anyway. The sun should be rising any minute, heating up the already decently warm air. You trail your eyes from the purpling horizon to your boyfriend. Pale fingers fidget with the hem of his t-shirt and you immediately realize what’s going on in his head.

“Hey,” you murmur. His gaze shifts to you and you step forward and rest your hands on his chest. “You don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to. In fact, I think I want you to keep it on. I know there’s nobody around us now, but if some hot girl comes by later, I’ll have to kick her ass if she tries to steal you from me. But I also wouldn’t be able to blame her. All this…” you slip your hands beneath his shirt and drag your fingers over his abdomen, “is too fucking hot. I’d have to take a run at you too if you weren’t already the love of my life.”

Eddie playfully rolls his eyes at you, but the dusting of pink along his cheeks makes you think you made him feel at least a little better. You’re proven right when he slips his tee off and lets it fall to the towels. Unable to help yourself, you drink in your sexy boyfriend’s body, biting your lip as you scan him up and down. When your eyes trail back up, Eddie is looking out at the water with a mixture of longing and hesitation.

“Wanna go in?” you ask. His eyes meet yours and he looks a little surer.

“Is it going to be cold?”

“Probably, babe.”

“Keep me warm?” he asks.

You pretend to think about it, your forefinger tapping your chin.

“Nope.” You giggle and gently push him in the direction of the water. He gives you a playful glare in return. The sand wriggles between your toes as you start to walk backward, making your way towards the water. Giving Eddie a reassuring smile, you outstretch your arms and offer your hands to him. It only takes him a few seconds before he’s following down after you, gladly slipping his hands into yours.

A wave rushes the shore and you let out a peal of laughter as it engulfs your feet. Eddie yelps in surprise, making you laugh even harder. Your grip on his hands tightens slightly, silently telling him not to run away, to keep going with you. Though his muscles tense up and his shoulders bunch up towards his ears, Eddie keeps his hands firmly grasped in yours.

The farther you walk in, the water level rises up your legs. A wave breaks against your back, but the look of alarm on Eddie’s face registers in your mind before the large splash. Once you start to laugh at the wetness now all over the back of your body, Eddie visibly relaxes. Now that more of you has been subjected to the cold water, you crouch down into the sea, gently tugging on your boyfriend’s hands so he’ll join you.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Eddie lowers his body down and shudders at the chill that washes over his skin. Slowly, you move a little deeper, making sure not to get too far away from the shore. Strong arms wrap around your waist and tug your chest up against his. Your natural response is to slip your arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Congratulations,” you say just loud enough to be heard above the ebb and flow of the ocean around you. “You’re no longer an ocean virgin.”

“Just popping all my cherries with you, huh?” he asks with a smirk.

“Wouldn’t I be the one with the cherry popped?” You wrinkle up your nose and Eddie gently nips at it.

The first rays of light appear over the horizon and the two of you adjust yourselves so you can both watch it while you languidly rock back and forth in the waves. Silence falls between the two of you as the sun inches its way higher. The blue-black of the predawn bleeds into a pink and orange tapestry for all in its presence to admire. The thought of watching a sunrise was never something you’d thought of as emotional before. But as you rest your head against Eddie’s and feel his grip tighten around you, a warm, glowing happiness bubbles up within you. This is the closest anything in life can come to perfection, you think.

Once the sun finishes its debut for the day, Eddie nuzzles his nose against the side of your head until you look up at him. The moment you do, he leans in and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and slow, lazy and cozy. It ends when both of you are smiling too widely to keep your mouths together.

“Can we have more firsts together?” you ask.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” you start, “I’m assuming we won’t always wanna bunk with Nancy and Steve, so maybe we’d get a place of our own someday? It doesn’t have to be in Boston; we could even move to Indiana so you can be close to your uncle, or—” You cut yourself off as you realize you’re rambling on. But your boyfriend looks far from annoyed; in fact, the look in his eyes is nothing less than adoring.

“We can figure that out,” he reassures you, pressing another gentle kiss to your nose. He pauses before admitting, “I’ve never felt safe like this before. There’s just something about you.”

“I’m gonna take it that you like this something about me.”

“Good guess.”

“Eddie Munson, I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything.”

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #WTHI

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