#i have been working on part 5 for like 6 weeks one part of it has just been eluding me so bad

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 27)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the long awaited wedding is here

warnings: IC slander, mentions of vomiting

word count: 5.2k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i haven't updated in months and i am so sorry, my life completely spiralled again and someone very close to me passed so it has been rough and i have not been coping well. enjoy this chapter, we have about 4-5 more left in this story

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 /

read on ao3

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READER POV

TWO WEEKS LATER

Your stomach churned as if readying to unload what little breakfast you had eaten all over your skirts. The room seemed too small, too tight, bustling with servants whose sole focus was on getting you ready. The air was thick, choking your throat as you tried to breathe deeply. No matter how hard you tried, your lungs would not expand fully. The chattering voices of the servants, who were once silent shadows working under the dark cloud of Beron Vanserra’s rule, was drowned out amidst the noise in your brain.

Desperately fanning your face, you were lightly scolded by a young servant with bright red hair brushing out your eyebrows. “Don’t do that, my Lady!” She chided gently. “You’ll ruin my masterpiece!”

“Sorry…” You muttered, forcing your hands back to your sides. It had been a long time since you had worn a full face of makeup, and you had missed it greatly. The redhead servant had lined your eyes with kohl, smudging out brown and gold shadows on your lids. Your cheeks had been blushed and bronzed to perfection, and a thin, nude sheen across your lips. 

At your apology, she looked shocked for a moment before the tenseness left her shoulders and she relaxed. Your heart ached for her, and for everyone who had worked for the past few centuries under Beron. His harsh rule would be a wound that only time would heal for many. It was evident in the behaviour of everyone in the palace – the surprise when simple mistakes were brushed off after an apology rather than a lashing, the rising warmth of the atmosphere in the palace that had once been silent and cold. Sure, Eris still ruled firmly and it would take a while for everyone to realise he was not his father. But little by little, the icy walls of the Autumn Court were beginning to thaw.

“Wedding nerves, I guess.” You said casually as a set of dangly gold earrings were placed on your ears. Never before had you had this many sets of hands tending to you. A tall male was carefully working on your hair, twisting a loose braid across the back of your head and artfully arranging the rest of your loose hair. Several times, you had attempted to sneak a glance in the mirror to see the full look, but too many servants stood in the way.

“It is certainly a big day for you, my Lady.” The redhead servant agreed, finishing the final touches on your face. Her hands were soft and delicate, light as feathers as she blended any smudges her expert eyes sought out. “An unusual event for the court, too.”

You tensed slightly. “I know it’s not your typical wedding or anything–” you began. But her soft chuckle interrupted you.

“Forgive me,” she said softly. “I did not mean for it to come across that way. It is a new beginning for everyone, and this place could do with some change. The only ones who have an issue with your marriage and title are the old courtiers and males stuck in their ways. But us servants do not share those beliefs. You have our support, my Lady.”

Your heart warmed at her kind and open words, and a smile found its way across your face. “What is your name?” You asked.

“Adelaide, my Lady.”

You gently grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Adelaide.”

Adelaide smiled, dipping her head respectfully before grabbing her supplies and beginning the cleanup process. As the busy hands of the servants began to slow, you realised that the moment was approaching faster and faster with each moment. Finally, you took a deep breath, and when the servants retreated their hands for a moment, you shifted to face the large mirror across from you.

Awe filled you as you took in their work. Your hair was styled beautifully, leaving only a few soft strands framing your face while the rest curled down behind your shoulders. Your eyes were striking, the various jewellery you donned designed to match beautifully. Tears welled in your eyes as you finally drank in the sight of your dress. The soft white fabric had red roses and vines embroidered on the bottom of the skirts as well as the bodice. The sleeves were loose, gathering around your wrists in just the right way. The neckline was a modest V shape, complimenting the emerald necklace sat on your chest. For just a moment, your heart ached knowing your mother would never get to see you married. It made more tears well up.

“Now, now, what did I say about ruining my masterpiece?” Adelaide chided, taking a cloth and dabbing under your eyes to catch any stray tears.

“Sorry,” You winced, forcing your tears back. “You guys have done an amazing job. Thank you, all of you.”

The servants grinned proudly at each other, bowing their heads as they cleaned up at the speed of light. “Your escort should be here shortly to walk you down the aisle.” The male servant who had done your hair said. And then just like that, they were gone. Leaving you with your own thoughts.

Your heart was racing. After all these weeks of planning, it was finally here. You weren’t sure why you were nervous – you loved Nesta and Eris. This wedding, this moment of time, was everything you had worked for and more since your arrival in the Night Court. Every sacrifice, every hard choice, had all led to this day. Yet it hardly felt real, even as you stood in your wedding dress, staring in the mirror in awe of your reflection. Countless hours had been spent helping the staff decorate, tasting hundreds of food samples for the menu, sitting bored out of your mind with Nesta and Eris at various meetings regarding not just the wedding, but the official crowning ceremony as well. All of that led to this very moment. And you were sure you were going to vomit.

Thankfully, a familiar voice sounded in your head, halting your rising stomach juices. Please don’t throw up on your dress, I can feel your nerves from here. Nesta scolded. At the sound of her voice, you felt yourself relaxing a bit.

I make no promises, you replied. How are you so composed right now? I’m freaking out.

She snorted. I can tell. Are you forgetting I spent practically a decade training for this thanks to mother dearest?

Right. How could I possibly forget that?

You’ll be fine. We’ve made it this far, a wedding is nothing.

I wish I could see you right now.

Soon enough, love. Just wanted to check in. I’ll see you at the altar.

Ok. I love you.

I love you, too.

Your heart sung at her words. Hearing Nesta say she loved you was like listening to the most beautiful song you had ever heard, one you would never get tired of. The three of you had agreed to keep dresses a secret, saving the big reveal for the aisle. You were itching to simply run out of the room and seek out Nesta and Eris, desperately wanting to see them before the wedding. 

A knock at the door interrupted your urges, and you shook your nerves off as the wood swung open to reveal Lucien. Your jaw dropped as your friend entered the room dressed in heavy green robes with gold accents and a long cloak. His hair was intricately braided back, accenting his chiselled, handsome, face. Lucien smirked at your reaction. “I know, I look hot.” He said, chuckling. 

“This is the fanciest I’ve ever seen you dress.” You scoffed.

“Take it all in now, honey. Because it won’t happen again.”

You rolled your eyes. “As High Lady I order you to dress this nicely more often.”

Lucien let out a laugh. “I will defect to Winter Court if this new title keeps inflating your big head like this.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling at this point. A comfortable silence settled over you and your best friend as Lucien looked you up and down. His voice was full of wonder as he spoke. “You look amazing. Truly.”

“Thank you, Lucien.” You said as you smoothed your skirts. The room began to feel stifling again as you realised he was here because it was time to walk down the aisle to Nesta and Eris. “Oh gods, it’s time, isn’t it?”

Lucien nodded, extending his arm towards you. “Yes. As much as it’s fun to see you freak out over your own wedding, it’s time to get it together. Your partners are waiting.”

You took one last glance in the mirror to make sure nothing was amiss before stepping off the pedestal with shaky legs, grabbing onto your friend’s arm. “Lucien?” You said tentatively, your voice sounding far away as you tried to calm your breathing. “Don’t let me fall.”

Lucien’s voice was gentle. “Never,” he assured you. So you clung onto his arm, willing strength into your body as you lifted your chin and followed him out of the room.

 *********************

NESTA POV

Nesta steadied her breathing, thankful she had put on a brave face for you during your brief exchange. Truthfully, she was just as much of a wreck as you were. True, her mother had spent years priming her for marriage, but this was not what Mrs. Archeron had had in mind for her eldest daughter. For a split second, Nesta contemplated laughing at the image of her mother’s face as she looked up at the from Hell, crying out in horror at Nesta marrying two faeries, one of whom being a female. It would turn her in her grave for sure.

The servants that had scurried away a few moments ago, leaving Nesta with a few blissful minutes of peace before a guard would come to fetch her for her entrance. You and Eris had pressed if she was really okay walking down the aisle herself, considering you had Lucien and it was custom for Eris to walk alone. She had shook off the concerns, insisting she was more than capable of doing it herself.

But looking in the mirror at her red lined lips, beautifully coronet braided hair, and satin dress with a straight neckline, long sleeves, and gold detailing, she couldn’t help but feel like a child again. A little girl who wanted her mom and dad to hold her hand and tell her they were there for her. Not that either of her parents ever had, and for years Nesta convinced herself she didn’t care. She thought she was loved by them at first, too young to know that some types of love could be bad. And then she became tied to her mother, a moth trapped in the twisted spider web of a cunning woman’s plans to groom her young daughter to please men that rivalled her father in age. Her father had let this happen, not once standing up for her or pushing back on her mother’s harsh disciplining. Just like Cassian had with Rhysand.

Nesta shivered, as if shaking off the mere sound of Cassian’s name in her mind and pushing it as far away as possible. The Illyrian general was aware of the wedding most likely, as formal invitations had been sent out to all of the courts. At first, Nesta and you had pushed back against the Night Court being invited. “As much as I do not want them near us, I cannot do that,” Eris had begrudgingly told them. “It is customary for all court leaders to come and bend the knee to the new ruler, or rulers in our case. If they do not, it will tip the already shakey diplomacy scales within Prythian. But fear not, I added a personal note to their invite saying they were expected to come after the wedding ceremony. They will sneak in as we begin the crowning and acknowledge our leadership and then leave. They will not be here long.”

No reply was received, but Nesta knew some of the Inner Circle would be coming. Feyre was likely too pregnant and too ill to attend, and there was no way Mor would be talked into attending, much to Nesta’s relief. Rhys would have to attend, as would Amren. She had no idea as to what Azriel was currently doing, but her stomach churned at the possibility of Cassian and Elain being there. She prayed that they would elect to stay home. Nevertheless, Eris had assured her the dragons would be there behind the throne as they had been upon the wedding announcement, ready to intervene if needed.

As the clock ticked, Nesta felt those hateful thoughts swimming to the surface again. They had quieted in the past few weeks, letting her have peace from her own self hatred. But doubt began to fill her, and suddenly her dress was stifling. 

She did not deserve to marry you, or Eris. Nesta was not worthy of your kindness and strength, nor Eris’s help and protection. Cassian had always mocked her for expecting to marry a prince, and not a low born bastard like him. But perhaps she did belong with someone who merely echoed the hateful things her own mind said to her.

Nesta wrung her hands together, practising her mind stilling as her thoughts threatened to consume her. But a gentle knock on the door broke her trance, and she straightened her back and smoothed out her skirts. After making sure she was composed, she said firmly, “Enter.”

It was not a guard who opened the door, but the familiar face of Lirilla. Her wavy auburn hair had been decorated with golden bits of hair jewellery, a red ribbon woven into the long braid that went down the back of her head. Her eyes were bright, her once skinny-figure now more filled out into the beautiful green gown she wore. “Hello, Nesta.” She said, closing the door behind her.

Nesta’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Is something wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be at the ceremony right now?”

Lirilla shook her head. “Everything is okay, my dear. But I come bearing an offer. One that you do not have to take, but I would be honoured if you did.”

Nesta cocked her head, but nodded for Lirilla to go on. “My son mentioned you were walking down the aisle alone, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Nesta said tightly. “I have no family here to give me away, so I will walk by myself.”

Lirilla took Nesta’s hand, rubbing gentle circles along her palm. “Forgive me if I am overstepping, but Eris tells me your relationship with your father was nonexistent, and your mother unpleasant. He said nothing more, but I also know that you were once human. And difficult parents or not, being given away at the altar is a common practice in the mortal lands. Am I correct to assume that?”

Nesta nodded stiffly, forcing the lump in her throat back down. No matter how many walls she put up, Lirilla could see right through her. “You know, I have always wanted a daughter who I could walk down the aisle.” The Lady of Autumn continued. “I understand you claim to be confident in walking yourself to the altar, but I know there must be some part of you clinging to that tradition from your old life. I would love to give you away, if you will have me.”

Nesta was glad she was not wearing heavy eye makeup, because a single tear escaped down her cheek. “I would like that very much.” She said through a choked voice. A mother’s love was something so foreign to her. All she knew of it was a twisted, cruel version that could not be considered any type of love. But the kindness in Lirilla’s face filled that void inside of her that her own mother left.

“Then let us get on with it.”

Nesta happily took her arm, allowing Eris’s mother to lead her from her room of solitude and towards the throne room. The closer they got to the large doors, the more the buzzing liveliness of the ceremony began to seep into her bones. She could feel the energy, the excitement of not only her mates, but the crowd as well. The stream of music began to fade as they reached the door, Lirilla nodding to the guards who spoke in whispers. She turned back towards Nesta as silence overcame the hall. “It is time,” She said softly.

Nodding, Nesta clenched tighter around Lirilla’s arm. It seemed like an eternity of waiting encapsulated in mere seconds as she waited for her cue. She took deep breaths, taking comfort in that bond within her that glowed with the presence of her mates.

Finally, the soft whistle of a flute rang from behind the doors, the start of the entrance music. She counted the seconds in her head, and after the 53rd second mark, the doors opened and she stepped through them.

A crowd far bigger than she had expected stood up. Candles and red, green, and gold flowers lined the aisle, similar decorations scattered across the throne room from every lamp, chair, and table. But Nesta did not look at the people, nor their dragons standing proudly behind the three thrones, their heads arching in through the open space. Her gaze was focused on the male at the altar underneath the archway of branches.

Eris was dressed in the most elaborate set of robes Nesta had ever seen. Gold and red draped his shoulders, a green cloak flowing behind him. A long sword rested on his hip, and a crown of gold sat atop his red hair. Her breath hitched in her chest at the sight of this male, her mate who had done so much to help her escape her prison in the Night Court. She almost stopped walking, but a gentle squeeze on her arm told her to keep going. She felt all eyes on her as she made her way towards the altar, but they were like whispers in the wind fading behind her, nonexistent as she focused on the male ahead of her. The soft music rang in her ears, a beautiful blend of notes that captured every emotion in her chest.

When she came to the end, Lirilla released her arm, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before taking her seat in the front row. Nesta could barely breathe, barely move as Eris stood mere inches away. Eris smiled softly, his eyes tender as he took in the sight of her wedding dress. He extended his hand, which Nesta gladly took. His warm skin on hers brought her back to reality, snapping her out of her trance. He guided her up to take his place on his left side, just as they had practised.

With one last longing look at each other, Nesta and Eris turned to face the crowd, hands joined as they waited for you. 

 *********************

READER POV

Right on time, the guard nodded to Lucien as you rounded the corner, signalling that Nesta had taken her place at the altar and it was your turn. The tune shifted slightly, and you knew it was the two minute and forty second mark you had memorised as your cue. With one last reassuring smile from Lucien, you stepped through the open doors and into the throne room.

Your entire body was both numb and on fire as you took your first steps on the aisle. Never before had you been so grateful for Lucien holding you, for you would surely collapse without his support. You ignored the hundreds of eyes that studied you as you approached Nesta and Eris at the altar, their dragons behind them in the distance. Zorzîmril purred as she saw you, and your lips twitched with a laugh as a few guests flinched at the sound. The tune of the music carried you down the aisle, and with each step you took towards your mates the more confidence you felt. Everything you had done to escape the Night Court had been worth it, and this outcome was far better than anything you could have dreamed of.

Finally, you reached the end of your journey. Lucien bowed his head and kissed your hand before taking his place in the empty seat beside his mother. Your eyes pricked with tears as you drank in the beauty of your mates, from Eris’s elaborate robes to Nesta’s simple yet elegant gown. They looked perfect, and you were relieved that you had not seen them before the ceremony for you surely would have collapsed.

You took Eris’s extended hand, positioning yourself on his right side. After scanning the subjects before you per Eris’s prior instructions, the three of you turned towards each other, Eris stepping back slightly so a triangle could be formed and allow you to hold each other’s hand.

Behind you, a priestess stepped up under the archway, her blue robes shining in the light of the sunset behind her. When you snuck a glance at her out of the corner of your eye and saw familiar red hair and teal eyes, your eyes shot open.

The priestess was Gwyn.

You baulked, surprise evident on Nesta’s face as well momentarily. Eris simply winked, and you bit your tongue to refrain from scolding him for all these surprises. You snuck a glance at Gwyn in shock, and she simply let out a smug smile before composing herself and lifting her chin to address the crowd. A squeeze from Eris’s hand urged you to compose yourself as well.

“Citizens of the Autumn Court,” Gwyn’s voice rang clear and strong through the throne room, and pride swelled in your chest. When you had first met Gwyn, she had refused to leave the library. For her to do something like this for you and Nesta was a testament to the nymph’s bravery. “We are gathered here today to witness the marriage between Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court, and Lady Nesta Archeron, and Lady (Y/N) Dreamfyre.”

You felt Nesta almost go giddy with excitement, and you squeezed her hand. You hadn’t heard your last name in ages, and now it was about to change entirely. It was bittersweet – a farewell to your old life, and the start of a new one.

“It is a day that marks a new era for the Autumn Court,” Gwyn continued. “One that marks the reign of a High Lord alongside two High Ladies. May the Mother bless this day and send good fortune to all within the realm. In the sight of the Mother, I hereby see you these three souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words as you bind yourselves in magic.”

In unison, you, Nesta, and Eris all spoke the words you had memorised weeks ago. Words that would be sacred on your lips, a seal of the promises you made to each other. “I am yours and you are mine from this day until the stars collide and eternity comes to an end.” From Eris’s palms, an orange flame emerged, curling around your left wrist and Nesta’s right. It was soft and warm against your skin, flickering gently. A silver flame from Nesta found your other hand, wrapping into it and Eris’s as well. It was colder, like the soothing waters of a creek. You took a deep breath, summoning the power of life within you that you had been practising for the last few weeks. 

Bright white light emerged from your palms, tinted with flicks of blue as it eagerly wound itself with Eris’s flames in your left hand and Nesta’s in your right. So the three of you stood, magic entwining and singing a celestial song. Life, death, and fire mixed together, purring against your skin as it hummed. On your ring fingers on both hands, a small tattoo appeared. It was a delicate vine with leaves, wrapping around the finger like a ring. The same appeared on Nesta and Eris’s fingers – a symbol of your marriage, one that could never get lost or fade. 

As the light of your entwined magic faded, your throat was thick with emotion as you gazed between Nesta and Eris with nothing but love. Gwyn’s voice continued proudly. “It is time for the exchange of vows, which have been written personally by each of the individuals before me. May you speak these words honest and true in the light of the Mother.” With that, the priestess stepped back slightly, giving Eris a nod before shooting you and Nesta a wink.

Eris cleared his throat. “Many males may envy me, for I have the two most beautiful brides in Prythian before me,” He began. “It is a dream of many to marry the perfect partner, a dream that most people are not fortunate enough to achieve. I am blessed to have not one, but two partners and achieve this dream. But Nesta, (Y/N), you are not just my brides. You are my mates, my equals, the force that binds me to this world and allows me to open my heart up.”

Eris turned towards you, amber eyes glowing with pride as he spoke. “(Y/N), you have a strength that rivals the foundations of the earth. Your selflessness and resilience through hard times is something I intend on admiring until the end of my days. You make this world a better place, your presence is like the sunlight that emerges over the mountains on the morning of winter’s chill. I am honoured to have you as my mate, and I will love you until the end of time itself.”

You could no longer hold back the tears that now flowed down your cheeks. Eris was staring at you with such intensity you felt like you were going to burst into flames right there and then. Long gone was the cold mask of indifference that he had sewn onto his face to survive in the harsh reality of Beron’s court. Everyone in the room could see his vulnerability, his love, how he was willing to open up that part of himself for the world to see.

Eris then turned to the other female beside you. “Nesta, you are as wild and untamable as the sea. A force of nature with a determination that inspires me to make change happen in a world that pushes against you. You have been through so much toil and conquered everything in your path, and you have my utmost respect and admiration. I am honoured that you have trusted me on this path.”

You saw Nesta’s face tight as she tried to conceal her emotions. Her lips stretched into a smile, her eyes giving everything away. You took in a deep breath, knowing it was your turn next. The words had been rehearsed in your head for days, playing in your head on a loop. Normally you hated speaking in public, and the thought of talking about your feelings in front of such a large crowd. But it all fell away in the background, and you spoke confidently. “Nesta, I don’t know how I would have gotten through these last few months without you,” you said to her. “You have been my rock ever since I met you, and within the first few weeks of our time together I knew we would blaze through this world like a wildfire. You are strong, you are smart, and I will love you until there is nothing of me left.

“Eris, you have proved yourself to be the most selfless male I have ever met. I love your witty remarks, your sharp mind that is never still for a moment, always conjuring up various ideas and schemes. I love you, and I cannot wait to begin this new chapter with both of you by my side.”

They gently squeezed your hands, the action sending a warm sensation down the bond. The dragons cooed gently from behind you, the rumble echoing throughout the vast chamber. Beside you, Nesta took a deep breath. It wasn’t a secret that she was the most nervous of the three of you to speak her vows. It was difficult for her to say how she feels even with just the two of you, let alone in front of an audience.

But her voice was strong as she spoke, no hint of hesitance of nervousness. “Eris,” She began, her grey eyes meeting the High Lord’s amber ones. “When we first met, one of the things you told me was ‘like calls to like’. I thought that you were simply referring to our powers, but I now realise that it reflects our relationship as well. You match me in mind and soul, and I owe you a debt I can never repay. Both of you.” Nesta turned her blue-grey eyes towards you. “(Y/N), you saved my life. You picked me up when I was at my lowest point, you helped me turn things around. You showed me that life was worth living and gave me the strength I needed. I love you, and my life would not be the same without you.”

Tears swam in her eyes, making you choke up. You glanced at Lucien in the crowd, who was looking at you both with pride in his eyes. Beside him, Lirilla was dabbing at her wet eyes with a cloth. 

“In the name of the Mother, by the power vested in me, I declare you wed.” Gwyn said proudly, voice ringing out clear as day. “Citizens of the Autumn Court, I present to you: Eris Vanserra, Nesta Vanserra, and (Y/N) Vanserra.”

Cheers arose from the crowd, filling you with happiness. Initially, you had expected a strained crowd, filled with disapproving whispers. But if they existed, they were easily drowned out. Leaves fell softly from the ceiling like confetti, and the dragons roared as one. Eris pulled your hands, and the three of you pressed your foreheads together. You were all grinning happily, and the High Lord stepped back for a moment and you pulled Nesta in for a kiss. Her soft hands cupped your cheeks as yours rested on her waist, her lips pressing sweetly into yours as the crowds cheering continued. It was a brief kiss, but passionate nonetheless. Your heart sang as Eris kissed you next, his slender fingers lifting your chin up to meet his mouth. Your insides melted at the pure love pouring from both kisses, mind spinning as you stepped back while Eris moved to Nesta and kissed her in the same manner.

Scanning the crowd, you say a sea of happy faces. It seemed even those who had sneered weeks before had either come around, or learned quickly to put on a happy face. But something tugged at you, urging you to look further. And then you saw them.

At the back of the crowd stood Rhysand, Amren, Azriel, Cassian, and Elain.

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[didhewinkback]

okay this is a psa i am logging off and will not be logging on until i have a completed part 5 to share if u see me on there part 5-less pls publicly shame me !!!!

#i have been working on part 5 for like 6 weeks one part of it has just been eluding me so bad #but i believe in myself and will finish it and LIKE IT OKAY #thats me giving myself a pep talk #see u on the other side

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#do i feel guilty abt spending like 4+hrs working on my CV during normal work hours today? yes #but also i spent 5 months getting paid part time when i was working 10+hr days 6 days a week #so i feel like it balances out #also i need to update my cv as things happen bc i instantly forget so many things i do #like i forgot i was named on at least 1 publication. like completely forgot until i searched my name on google scholar #also i have like 25 posters/presentations to my name. and only like maybe 5 of those are ones that r just in name #ive given a lot of talks/poster presentations lol #my cv is so long. i prob should have shortened it more before i sent it to the dude im talking with #but like. idk im gonna meet him next week so like if i commit a little faux pas by sending a too long cv im sure its fine. hes already #interested enough to chat. and therefore i have to bust my ass preparing to meet with him #bc hes from the most prestigious uni ive contacted. so like really theres no way ill get in. but i will shamelessly try #god. ive gotta really study hard. like i mean i dont have to but ive been so burnt out for so long that ive been slipping when it comes to #hardcore academic stuff. like my memory of genetics and chem stuff is slipping. and generally i find it difficult to wrangle my thoughts in #a way that makes sense. so i really wanna be prepared to talk to him #lol my boss is gonna get back from Europe like hey ur gonna follow me to las vegas? and im gonna be like haha fuck that i dont wanna live #there. i am currently 1 foot out the door. im at the bus stop waiting for someone to give me the money for the science bus #give me funding to study cool stuff!!!! #ugh and i still need to look for more ppl to ask. like i want at least 2 or 3 US options on top of my 3 potential UK options #and like im really considering contacting some ppl in Germany bc like all the papers i look at are german. the germans are doing cool #cyanobacteria bullshit. and im jealous and i dont speak german but hey ive got a year to learn #so idk maybe ill see if my boss talked to anyone cool while she was at her conferences. pls boss tell me abt the other cool cyanobacteria #ppl 🙏 but idk. i feel like ppl dont quite get what im interested in. bc its astrobiology but really its more evolution and understanding #the fundamentals of life. so like no i dont wanna go to mars. i wanna understand what freaky shit life was doing millons if years ago #ugh. im being a slacker. ive gotta shift into try hard mode. #but also i wanna draw and finish my fanfics 😭 we'll see what happens #unrelated #also thank u to the ppl who sent kind words on my post yesterday! im still shadowbanned so i cant reply to u 😭

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also i’m going to be incredibly sleep deprived today so i cannot be held legally responsible for whatever bullshit gets posted between now and roughly 6pm monday the 12th

#txt.txt #if i can make it through work without the sleep deprivation getting to 'ah fuck micro naps' levels again that would be GREAT #because i actually don't like that! i find it very scary! #'reese why don't you call out' can't. if i have another call out before the 30th i lose my job. #which i still think is bullshit because i was told the work calendar goes w the quarters so our year starts in fucking like #end of feb/beginning of march #but somehow your /callout/ history goes by calendar year???? #also the fact that i was told there are steps regarding callouts and then got none of them? #there's supposed to be like 3 in so much time is a verbal warning 4 in same period is a written warning #5 in same period is second written #6 is final written 7 is termination #so the fact that they blended my time frame and skipped straight to 'one more and you're fired' still makes me mad #also they fired one of my coworkers for the same horseshit and i'm still mad about that too bc she's a fucking SINGLE MOM COME /ON/ #on top of that they literally let her come to work the day they fired her like everything was normal and waited until the next person came i #came in* for fucking coverage for the mid part of the day before firing her. like that's just extra fucking dirty. #i still need to contact the hr shit about FMLA because i can get sliding scale FMLA bc of mom and stuff #but i got hit with my health bullshit right after i had this discussion w them and i've just been so fucking exhausted i haven't done it #i should try and do it this week so they can send any relevant shit to the doctor for mom's appointment on the 20th #one of you message me tuesday and be like reese did you do the FMLA

[ficmotel]

LIVES CHANGED

Part II: Things do Change

8.9k words

Warnings: Angst, Eddie being dumb, past Eddie x reader, mom!reader x dad! eddie munson

main masterlist

Series Masterlist

chapter 1

AN: I am so sorry for the wait, I had this whole plan to release this fic along with a reader only fic of her life after Eddie left but I made the stupid decision to apply for summer college courses thinking it would be easy LOL IM DUMB. Though the first week of classes passed and I have got it under control now. Though classes might slow down this series so bear with me, but I have planned about 5-6 parts for the series so stay tuned.

I hope you enjoy this series, and this part.

Eddie breathed a deep sigh as he rolled over, trying to catch his breath, sweat beading down his head. He stared at the ceiling, feeling sticky and dirty. He turned, reaching for the side table grabbing his lighter and a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips and lighting it. Blonde hair appeared over him, a manicured hand settling over his chest.

“Down for another round?” the sultry voice said, leaning over Eddie, resting her body against his chest. Taking the cigarette from between his lips and taking a hit for herself.

He stared at her for a second, “Can’t, Honey. Gotta meet the boys”

She pouted and leaned over to kiss him, before handing him back the cigarette before hoping off him going to collect her clothes. Eddie got up, putting out the cigarette and picking up his clothes, already planning a hot shower for when he arrived home.

“Well I had fun. We should do this again sometime” She asked from her place behind him, Eddie’s back was turned to her, slipping on his jeans.

“Maybe… I-I don’t know” Eddie mumbled, it was low but it was enough for her to hear him. She laughed but it wasn’t bitter but as if she expected this.

“Y’know this is why they call you Man-Whore Munson” She grabbed her bag and moved in front of him, as he buttoned his pants.

“Jules I-” Eddie started, an apology on his tongue when Jules held up her red manicured finger telling him to stop and shut up.

“Don’t start with me Eddie, I knew what this was. Like I said, you are known as Man-Whore Munson, I didn’t expect you to drop down on a knee and propose after a few fucks” He winced at the vulgarity, he knew that’s what the truth of it was but even after all the late nights he had, he hated facing the reality of it. Of the life he had chosen for himself.

“Just let me say, from one slut to another” Jules started without an air of care.

“You're not a slut, Jules” Eddie tried having known Jules for awhile, as she had been a groupie in his second world tour mostly joining because she hoped to catch Jeff’s attention. Which poor oblivious Jeff never caught on to which inevitably left her to seek refuge in Eddie’s bed.

“Shut it Munson, there’s no need to feel bad. Your a good fuck and a decent guy. But as I was saying, I do this because I want to, I have fun. You however seem like a kicked puppy after every fuck, it’s depressing and to be honest, it’s quite a turn off” She said with her usual amount of sass.

“Well that’s something every guy wants to hear” Eddie replied, in annoyance hoping to get out of this conversation as soon as possible.

“All I’m saying is work your shit out. This life ain’t for everyone.” She shrugged, grabbing her bag, kissing him on the cheek, her red lips staining his cheek as she strutted her way out of the room.

As she opened the door, she stopped turning back for a second “Or you could do all of us and yourself a favor and go back to the one”

“How are you so sure I have met the one?” Rolled his eyes, trying to prevent the ache in his heart at the thought.

“Oh hope off it Munson. With guys like you, there is always the one” She smirked, noticing the look on Eddie’s face. “See you later” she shouted, shutting the door behind her.

Leaving Eddie alone in the smoky, dingy motel room, her words lingering in his head. He thought about the one. You.

Memories of your laughter echoed in his mind, you and him sipping milkshakes, giggling at his dramatic displays of affection, the soft whines and moans you let him pull out of you. Eddie caught him smiling to himself for a second before the worst memory of all entered his mind, attacking and killing all the rest.

Your heartbroken face, eyes red rimmed with tears streaming down, then you getting in your car and driving away from him. He shook his head and proceeded to put on his shirt, gathering his leather jacket and making his way out.

Stardom had been everything he had expected it to be. Late nights, crazy concerts, lots and lots of drugs and beautiful women throwing themselves at him. He was living his dream, but there was something in Eddie that never was able to enjoy it.

No matter how many drugs he ingested or how many women he took to bed, nothing made him forget about you. About your sweetness, about how it felt to have you in his arms or how it felt to laugh with you, how it felt to be in you, or how devastating it felt to see you heartbroken and know he was the cause of it.

The days after the break up Eddie had put on a front, focusing all his energy and mind into his new life, the dream he had chosen over you. He had to, because if this life. The life he had chosen over a simple quiet one with you turned into another failure in Eddie Munson’s life he would never have been able to forgive himself. The funny thing was, everything turned out to be wonderful.

Corroded Coffin’s first album was a hit, one song landing on the top ten and playing on MTV. To be fair the first few months were quite a blur, he had been grieving all he left behind in Hawkins. Eddie hadn’t expected to miss the small town so much, but his break up with you had hit harder once he had arrived in LA.

He had tried so many drugs that year, he could barely remember their first national tour. Then the amount of women that had wanted a taste of the lead singer, Jules was probably right about the nickname he was given because Eddie Munson indeed became a Man Whore. Screwing almost every groupie or model that looked his way.

Then came Corroded Coffin’s second album which only solidified the band's status in LA and in the music world. Eddie had eased up on the drugs but still had his fair share at parties and an occasional joint during band practice. After that he became more selective of his female conquests, trying to avoid any woman that even reminded him of you.

Which wasn’t particularly hard, you were one in a million.

The band mates had called him out on his proclivities which had irritated him, he hated facing the reality of his love life because if he faced reality, he would have to face that there would never be another you. That you were out of his life indefinitely, he could handle the break up but to face the painful fact that he would one day fall in love with someone else or that you already had. Eddie couldn’t handle that, it hurt too much, to think that it was all truly over. Along with the fact that, it was entirely his fault.

Gareth had reminded him of the fact consistently which had led to countless fights between the two, always claiming that if it weren’t for you, Corroded Coffin wouldn’t be where they were at. That you should be with them instead of Jules or Lila or Janice or any of the numbers of women Eddie had invited into their tour bus.

Eddie knew Gareth was right but he couldn’t face it, could never face the truth, or the choice he had made. He should’ve ran to you, invited you along. Or he could have just stayed.

Though that was all in the past now, Eddie was here in the present and in the present he would shack up with Jules or Lila or Janice until any memory of you was pushed to the back of his mind.

Now on their third world tour, Corroded Coffin was currently staying in some motel room in Philadelphia. He had sprung for a motel room, not wanting to hear all the complaints that Jeff, Gareth and Doug would have for him. He was fully prepared to walk onto the tour bus and see Jeff’s judgemental gaze and hear an insult flying from Gareth’s mouth but it never came.

When he fully entered the bus, he could see Jeff on the phone, a lone tear falling from his eyes as Doug sat beside him, patting him on the back in comfort. Both Gareth and Doug looked at Jeff with pity and sadness in their eyes as well.

“Aye What-What Happened?” Eddie whispered softly in panic not wanting to interrupt whatever terrible phone call Jeff had received early in the morning.

Gareth turned to him, voice soft as well “Jeff’s dad died early this morning, they said it was a stroke”

Gareth’s voice wavered slightly delivering the news, and Eddie felt like he had received a punch in the gut. Jeff’s father had been like a third father to Eddie (After Wayne of course) always encouraging the boys to keep pursuing their dreams, he even helped Eddie fix up the van and taught him how to change a tire.

The boys had stayed silent as Jeff finished his somber phone call with his grieving mother, more tears tracked down Jeff’s face. He sat silent for a second, trying to find the words to say, but only four words came from his mouth. Four words that while Eddie understood were probably the last words Eddie had wanted to hear that morning.

“We gotta go home”

Three knocks rapped against your front door.

“I’ll be right there” You shouted from inside the bathroom. Your eyes scanned the version of you in the mirror, looking for anything out of place. You adjusted your dress once more before running out the bathroom, you turned to look at the clock on the wall. You were a little behind schedule but being behind schedule has become your new normal in the past six years.

You swung open the door, smiling at the older man on the other side. “Wayne” you breathed out “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice” You moved to the side letting the man into your home.

“Oh don’t worry about it, Darling. You know I can never stop myself from saying no to you” Wayne said sweetly. You could only smile back at the man you had known since you were fifteen.

You could feel his gaze on you, scanning your new hair do and freshly applied makeup that you had spent hours on.

“You look wonderful, Darling. First anniversary is it? getting real serious ain’t it?” Wayne asked, eyebrows raised in question. Though you could hear the teasing tone in his voice. You didn’t much like talking about your love life with anyone, especially Wayne but it was hard to keep it a secret when he frequented your life so often.

“I don’t know about that. H-He’s nice” you shrugged trying to hide the pink coloring your cheeks, twiddling with your fingers out of nervousness.

“Well you deserve nice, darling, and don’t worry on about me. I don’t tell that boy nothin” Wayne replied his voice turning sour as he said the last half, and an old ache settled in your chest.

“Thank you Wayne but you don’t need to be so angry on my account” You pleaded with him knowing that while he still loved and cared for his nephew, even he held the same amount of resentment at the boy as you did.

“I will be as angry as I like. Only a fool could ever let a gal like you go. Now let me and Miss Izzy be on our way. We don’t wanna keep lover boy waiting” He winked at you but also reminded you of how late you already were for your plans.

“Right. Izzy! Sweetie, Grandpa Wayne is here” You shouted before turning back to the older man, only a few seconds passed before you could hear the light steps of a small child running on the wood floors.

“GRAMPA WAYNE” The young girl yelled as she ran towards Wayne. A red and black stuffed bunny hanging from her fingers as jumped into the older man's arms. Him picking her up and raising her to the sky without a care to his own health.

“Izzy, what did I say about running to Grandpa Wayne like that? You're gonna hurt him” You scolded your five year old daughter.

“I’m sowwy, Grampa” The small girl said toward Wayne. Her eyes wide pleading for forgiveness, showcasing the same dramatics she could have only received from her father. Though while she bared a striking resemblance to your childhood self, there was no denying who her father was. Isabel was her father’s daughter, both in looks but in personality.

“Oh, it’s alright, Sweets. I’ll carry you and throw you until my back snaps in two” he said to the five year old, her giggling at his words.

“Again, thank you so much Wayne. My mom was supposed to babysit but she just came down with the flu. I can pay you if you’d like?” You explained, you didn’t mind Wayne babysitting your daughter as he had been there for the two of you since the day his nephew had left Hawkins. Though there was a small part of you that hated asking him for too much.

“Like I said Darling, no need to thank me. Spending anytime with my sweet grandbaby is enough payment.” He said lightly tickling the girl in his arms, her laughter spreading delight in the small house.

“You look pwetty mommy” She said, turning in her grandfather’s arms to touch your powdered face with her small fingers.

“Thank you Darling” You beamed and took a step closer, “Okay Sweet Pea, You will be spending the night with Grandpa Wayne but I will be bright and early to pick you up okay?” You explained adjusting the sweater around her torso, making sure she would be safe in the cold air.

Your daughter nodded her head, wrapping her arms around your neck from her place in Wayne’s arms “Otay Mommy” She replied, her little fingers getting stuck in your hair and probably messing up the hairstyle you spent 40 minutes on.

“Be very good for Grandpa Wayne and when I pick you up we can go for pancakes. How does that sound?”

The girl's eyes went wide with excitement as she began wiggling in her Grandfather’s hold, “Can we get a milkshake too?” she asked eyes pleading to you. You giggled at your daughters face, you could never say no to her.

“Of course, sweet pea but you got to be good for Wayne”

“I will be so so good. I promith” The young girl replied, you only smiled back at her, a moment of guilt filled you not wanting to leave your sweet girl. Though you couldn't deny the excitement in your gut for the night.

Wayne and Izzy made their way out the door, before driving off to spend the night at Wayne’s trailer. You composed yourself, fixing your hair from the mess your daughter had made before grabbing your purse and meeting the man who was currently waiting patiently for you.

“You look beautiful” He said, a twinkle in his eyes as they surveyed your face and your body. 

You felt yourself blush, it had been a long time since someone had looked at you with such hungry eyes. Though now after a year of dating, you supposed it should’ve felt casual, normal but a small part of you still wanted to shrink into yourself, to run away. Though your mothers words rang in your head. 

“You can’t hide away forever. You are hot stuff, you gotta move on with your life eventually” 

So instead of instantly running away, you accepted the compliment and thanked the man in front of you. You had met him at a bar when you went out for your co-worker Steve's birthday. You had walked outside to call your mom to check in on Izzy. (and to avoid the music blaring inside the bar.) 

When the man with chocolate brown hair, and a gray suit with his tie undone walked up to you. He had flirted with you unashamedly and then bought you a drink. When the night was over you had danced twice and he had slipped you a card with his name and  number on it. 

‘Adam Linden, Hawkins Post Journalist’

(260) - 555- 6784

You were wary of putting your heart out there again, though the feelings he gave you, were so refreshing. You hadn’t realized how in need of affection you were until you were being showered in it. You didn’t want to give love a try after Izzy’s father left. You spent the first three years focused solely on school and motherhood showering a baby Izzy with all the love and affection of two parents, while receiving very little for yourself. 

You had gone on a date with Steve Harrington, but that only made you realize that you and him wouldn’t work out, mostly because Izzy’s father had left you distrustful and insecure. After that, you mostly avoided dating, not wanting the judgment that came with you being a single mother, or the fear of having your heart broken. 

But when one Adam Linden strolled up to you, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a promise to buy you a drink, absent from any music or memory of a man from the past. 

You wouldn’t deny, you were not completely comfortable, your dates with a certain Munson boy were always relaxed. Pizza dinners, movies, Bob’s diner whereas dates with Adam were five star restaurants and office parties. Though Adam seemed entirely interested in you, and it felt good. To be desired, to be wanted. The change of relationship was daunting, but every date you had with Adam there was a flicker of the dream you let go of. The dream of a true family, with a loving husband and children running underfoot. 

Adam was a perfect choice to fulfill your dreams, he was kind, understanding, and had a stable job. He wasn’t the kind of man to run away from you for a better job, he would take you with him, buy you a house with a white picket fence. You would be content, and your Izzy would have a father. 

When you were younger it was an image of a perfect home with you baking cookies with two kids, a husband with his hair pulled up and into a bun, with a few curls hanging loose. Him putting on a vinyl as he came to dance with one of the children, stealing a bite of the cookie dough. A perfect husband and two faceless, nameless children. 

The dream was different now though, one of the children wasn't faceless or nameless, She was a bright bubbly little girl named Isabel who enjoyed dragons and princesses, who had the wildest curls and the biggest brown eyes. Who was born with all the confidence you lacked but matched you in curiosity, who was too dramatic for her own good. You could see her with another little sister or brother, being careful as she taught them how to properly mix the pancake batter or there could be an oopsie. Now the picture of your husband was different, he probably wouldn’t worry about playing music or stealing cookie dough. You could picture Adam there with you, he probably would be the kind of man to sit at the table and read the newspaper with his coffee, or maybe he would be at work, or maybe he would be right by your side helping the children? 

“Babe?” Adam asked, your mind returned to the present. Your hand on a wine glass, and a half-finished grilled salmon on your plate. Adam had his brows furrowed looking at you.

“Sorry, today was tiring. I zoned out a bit, what were you saying?” You gave a tired trying smile after you explained. Your mind returns back to the present, to the man in front of you. 

He smiled softly at you, he opened his mouth to say something but quickly stopped when the waiter came to collect your plates, sliding a piece of chocolate cake in front of you. 

“I didn’t order this” You spoke to the waiter.

“I did, babe. I know you love chocolate cake” You blushed at the gesture; you wouldn’t say it was your absolute favorite, but the thought is what counted. 

“Thank You, Adam. I do love some cake” You tried to joke but it seemed to fall on deaf ears with only Adam looking at you intently with a sort of look that made you want to run for the hills. 

When you grabbed your fork, you moved the plate slightly for a better cut. That is when you noticed the shimmering jewelry hidden by the pastry. You turned the plate fully to reveal a glittering diamond ring sat next to the chocolate cake. Staring at you, asking a question. 

You felt absolutely sick at the sight, but when the man before you stood up from his seat and kneeled before you. A hopeful look in his eyes, and lovely words spouting from his mouth, the looks of dozens of curious restaurant guests staring at you. 

The dream flickered once more, so instead of running from fear. You accepted it. 

“Yes, i’ll— I would be delighted to marry you” 

Eddie’s car pulled up to the trailer. It had been almost six years since had been back, not wanting to return to his one pony town but the worst crises do bring people back together. 

Eddie hadn’t felt nerves like this since his first real concert in LA but this was much worse. He wasn’t nervous at all when he was on the plane but that could’ve been because of all the whiskey he had decided to drink before taking flight.  

Walking up the steps of his home and knocking on the trailer door like he was a stranger, made Eddie feel homesick for the first time in years. When the door opened, the air of home filled his senses, not only the smell of his trailer which arguably was just old furniture and cigarette smoke but it also was the sight of the man who raised him. Wayne. 

“Wayne” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the man in front of him. He had spent so many years in La La Land running from reality, living in some parallel universe but he was finally here. It was unfortunate  that it took the death of one Mathew Davis to bring him back to earth but Eddie was back home.

 While Eddie was on the plane, drunk out of his mind, watching a grieving Jeff cry over his father, Eddie felt fear. That maybe he would return home, and find everything different and that he could be in Jeff’s position. Grieving over someone he left behind, but here was Wayne Munson, seemingly healthy but undeniably alive and still in his trailer. 

Like nothing had changed. 

“Eddie” Wayne smiled for half a second before bringing Eddie into his arms, hugging the boy who was a son to him. As swiftly as Wayne hugged him, he let go and folded his arms back to himself. A stern look settled in his face, like a wall being put up. Eddie felt something change, like he was about to be scolded for the first time in six years, Eddie stood awkwardly beneath the harsh stare of Wayne Munson. 

“So are you gonna let me in?” Eddie asked after a few seconds. Wayne, still silent, backed up, and moved to the side, letting Eddie into the trailer. 

Eddie surveyed his surroundings, everything was practically the same. There were some appliances that were changed out like the tv and the microwave, most likely bought from the money Eddie would send Wayne sometimes. Though the old couch that had cigarette burns was all the same. It was simply an old couch that many even Eddie would talk crap upon but Eddie could only feel happy at the sight of it. A wave of memories filled Eddie’s mind as he took in the sight of the old grandma couch and the smell of stale air. 

His first night with Wayne after his mom left,  A young small Eddie laying on the couch, finally asleep with dried tears on his face while Wayne covered him with a blanket. 

Then at age 12, sitting on the couch with the coffee table moved to be right in front of him while the boys sat on the carpet surrounding him. It was his first D&D game as a dungeon master.

 You and him at 15, making out on the couch, you on top then him on top, limbed intertwined. You and him at 16, cuddling and eating popcorn as Wayne sat on his usual chair, watching horror movies, with temporary smiles on all of your faces. 

Eddie stepped forward and sat on the couch, the cushion sinking in from the weight. His fingers grazed the side of the couch, but a bright shade of red caught his sight. Slightly poking out from underneath one of the pillows. Curiosity getting the best of him, Eddie reached and plucked out what seemed to be a red and black stuffed bunny. 

“Wayne, What the hell is this?” Eddie held up the stuffed animal with a few fingers showcasing it but Wayne quickly tore it from his fingers, as if Eddie had accidentally grabbed Wayne’s favorite pair of underwear.

 Eddie was confused by the sight of the stuffed animal in what was supposed to be a childless old man's home, but Eddie became even more put off by the fact that Wayne adjusted the bunny in his hands before setting it gently down next to the television as if it was some prized jewel. Eddie stared at Wayne with a look that begged him to explain his odd behavior along with the strange discovery.  

“It’s a gift for the Byers” Wayne explained but even after years apart, Eddie knew there was something off about Wayne. 

“The Byers?” Eddie titled his head in question, unbelieving of the explanation.

“Yes, Joyce Byers was telling me that Jonathan and his wife, Nancy, finally got pregnant. So i bought this as a gift” Eddie didn’t fully buy the explanation as last he remembered Jonathan Byers couldn’t even talk to a girl, let alone Nancy Wheeler, but it had been a long time. The same thing could have been said about him once. Though even with that explanation Eddie was still unsure, or maybe he was still hungover from the bottle he drank before getting on the plane to Hawkins. 

“Oh good for them then” Eddie smiled his usual smile but Wayne didn’t smile, or laugh or give him a funny remark, simply stared as if he was sizing him up. Eddie shrank into himself like he was fourteen again getting caught for stealing one of Wayne’s beers. Wayne sighed, and shook his head softly, preparing for the talk ahead. 

“What are you doing here, Ed?” sitting down next to Eddie with a face full of contempt. 

“Jeff’s dad died. Didn’t you hear?” Eddie didn’t understand Wayne’s reaction, Eddie didn’t expect a party but he half expected Wayne to be happy to see him. Though now it seemed like he wanted nothing more than Eddie out of his house. 

The distance between Eddie and Wayne now, with them in the same room seated on the same couch felt far greater than it did when they were 2,000 miles apart. Eddie knew some people in town wouldn’t be too excited to see him but he never anticipated Wayne’s reaction to be this cold. 

“I know that, prolly knew before you did. So that’s why you're here, for the funeral and then you're off again?” 

Eddie sighed, taking a look around the trailer, everywhere but at the older man. He knew why Wayne was upset now, it almost felt like deja vu for Eddie. It was his breakup with you all over again. Like you, Wayne seemed to be angry that Eddie followed his dreams, was able to get out of shithole Hawkins. It irritated Eddie, he had made it big but just like you, and Gareth and the rest of the boys, Wayne only seemed to care for Eddie’s failures more than his triumphs.  

“I don’t know why you make it seem so bad. I’m a rockstar Wayne” Eddie tried to reason with the older man but Wayne just let out a disbelieving scoff. 

“So I've heard. You're a rock star when it’s a holiday, when it’s a birthday, when you have a girl crying to you. You’re always a rock star” Wayne stood up from the couch and took a few steps away as if he couldn’t stand to be near his nephew in those moments.  

Eddie tried to ignore the pang of guilt he felt at the mention of you, but he only scoffed and directed any of his guilty feelings back at Wayne. “You didn’t seem to complain about me being a rock star when you needed a new tv, or you hurt your hand at work and needed to pay the bill. You're just mad I actually got out of this shithole unlike you” the venomous words fell out of Eddie’s mouth and there was no taking them back. 

Once again, Eddie Munson stood in his place in this trailer saying things he did not mean to someone who meant the world to him. Eddie had regretted the things he said to you the second he said them, and once again he felt the familiar regret seep into his body and make his heart ache and his throat thick. Just like before, he didn’t try to apologize, and simply sat there, dumbfounded by his own words. 

Wayne seemed unfazed, almost predicting this of his nephew. If the words did hurt, Wayne didn’t let it show. Though his disappointment in the boy in front of him was clear as day, practically emanating off his stoic form. 

Wayne shook his head in disbelief  “I always knew you were thick in the head, boy, but I thought I had raised you to be better than this. I ain't mad that you made it, I'm proud that you got out of this shithole. I’m just mad that you never came home, not once did you look back. I was waiting for you to. if i had known that someone dying would’ve brought you home, i would’ve died years ago.” 

The words hit Eddie harder, another shot hitting his heart as an ache grew all over his chest, and like blood a new found guilt seeped into his body. Eddie’s anger deflated as he simply watched as Wayne began to move around the trailer seeming to collect things. Eddie had no words for Wayne, not knowing what to say or what he could say to fix things. Eddie didn’t think there was anything that could make up for how he made Wayne feel. 

“Wayne” Eddie tried but Wayne didn’t seem to care what he had to say. Lifting up a hand as he put on a jacket and slung a lunch bag decorated in a few stickers over his shoulder. 

“It doesn't matter, Eds. Your home now, just don’t drink any of my beers and we’ll be fine until you go” Wayne sounded tired, but he only moved toward the door trying to get away from his nephew. Eddie stood up as if he was gonna follow him but he didn't move from his place or say a word, frozen. “I gotta go to work. I’ll see you later”

“Work? What happened to your night shifts?” Eddie asked, the question was genuine as Eddie had only ever known Wayne to work night shifts, but Eddie also knew it was just an excuse to keep Wayne around just a little bit longer. To try and find the words to fix what he had destroyed. 

“Things change.” Wayne said dejectedly, opening the door to try to leave but as if Eddie’s time was running out he asked one more thing abruptly. Eddie didn’t know why he asked, why it was the first thing to fall from his lips, he just knew he needed to know before Wayne left for work. 

 “Wait. Wayne, before you go. Can I-I— Do you- Um do you know if she still lives around here? Or anything about her?” Eddie asked with a pleading look in his eyes, he didn’t even know if he wanted to know. What if you were terrible, unhappy and alone without him? Or what if it was the opposite, what if you were perfectly happy and even better without him? He wasn’t sure which he preferred, they both made him want to cry. 

Wayne stopped and turned around to look at Eddie, this time all the stoicness of Wayne Munson left and only a look of disappointment and resentment showed clear on his face.  

“I may have sat on that couch waiting for you to come home, but that doesn't mean she did. Not all of us can wait six years. Like I said, things change, Eddie” 

Yeah, Eddie Munson was starting to get that. 

Eddie had stood in his place for longer than he wanted to admit, after the exchange he had with Wayne he didn’t know what to do. He also hadn’t been home for years, he couldn’t just go back to smoking in his room or playing his guitar. He couldn’t hang with the boys as they were all probably hanging out with their own families, most likely having a better welcome home than Eddie had received. They actually visited their families in the past six years. 

Eddie walked around the trailer mindlessly, smiling at the memories but frowning at all the changes in his family home. The tv, the microwave, the ripped stitch in Wayne’s old chair had been fixed, there was no longer a dinner chair that rocked because it was uneven. It had all been replaced. 

Eddie’s eyes stopped when he reached  the refrigerator seeing a drawing. It wasn’t the best drawing clearly drawn by a child, it was all stick figures. One was a stick figure of a man with three hairs coming out of his head, Eddie let out a chuckle when he read the name above the figure. 

‘Wayne’

What confused Eddie were the other two figures, one of a young girl with their loops on her head, she wore a red dress and was holding on to the stick figure of Wayne and another stick figure of a woman with a blue dress. The words ‘Izzy’ and ‘mommy’ written over their heads. 

Eddie looked back to the red and black bunny that sat proper next to the television. Did Wayne have a lady friend that he never told him about? Eddie thought to himself. 

 Eddie was unsure of his idea, but he hoped it might be true. It would mean Wayne wasn’t alone all these years. Eddie chose to ignore the drawing for now, hoping to question Wayne for answers when he got home. He was about to reach inside for a beer when he remembered Wayne’s words not to drink any of his beers. Usually, Eddie would have ignored the request, and simply would have taken one and laughed it off later when Wayne would scold him, but that was a long time ago. Wayne was never this angry at Eddie before, he didn’t want to push it, especially if he had a chance to make it better. 

So Eddie closed the refrigerator door, and reached for his rental car keys in his pocket. Melvalds would still be around, while things were sure different now. There was no chance Hawkins would get rid of one of its only few stores, there had to be a place for all these people to get a pack of cigarettes and beers. 

Eddie was about to be on his way when the phone rang, like if he was a teenager once again Eddie reached for the phone answering in his usual jokingly manner “Munson Residence” 

The line was silent. “Hello?” Eddie asked but no answer, the line then quickly cut off before Eddie had the chance to ask if anyone was there. Eddie waited for a few seconds, maybe it was a bad line and they would call again but nothing.

 Eddie shook off the interaction making his way out of the door, back to his previous plans. 

After the proposal, you felt as if you were in a daze, far from reality. You had heard from some of your friends that the prospect of getting married was ‘an unreal experience’ though you were unsure if this is what they meant. When you went to pick up Izzy from Wayne’s that night, you hadn’t said anything, you even took off the bright engagement ring from your finger for those few minutes. 

You didn’t not want to get married but thought you should at least feel overjoyed. Now in this moment though, as you had a half eaten plate of waffles and fruit in front of you, you knew you had to talk to your favorite person. Who was currently sitting right in front of you, with a sticky face from all the syrup of her pancakes, who was currently begging for the milkshake she was promised. 

“Once you are finished with your food, I will order the shake. Just eat now, sweet pea” You explained softly, but as you watched as the little girl stuffed her face with another giant bite of food. You couldn't help the laugh that fell from your lips at the sight 

“Okay maybe eat a little slower” You leaned forward to wipe her face with a napkin, feeling slightly lighter now that you looked at her. 

Izzy was the light of your life for the past six years, your reason for getting up in the morning, the reason you could smile in the darkest of moments. Even before she was born she helped you get through your first heartbreak and even after she was born, you knew you could never love anything as much.You wanted her to be as happy as she made you, everything you did was for her. Which is probably why this conversation was so hard to start.You knew she wouldn’t mind a father but would she like having Adam as her father?

You were unsure how to approach the conversation with someone so young. This wasn’t just a life change for you but for her as well. Izzy had met Adam before but only a few times, and you still didn’t know how she felt about ‘mommy’s friend’. 

You had been hesitant for a while for Izzy to meet Adam, he had known you were a mother but you feared actually meeting her would change everything, especially if Izzy didn’t like him. It wasn’t until the 10th date that he had briefly met Izzy, he had greeted her when he was picking you up for a date. He had brought you a bouquet of flowers that Izzy had just loved.  

So the second time had been a much more formal greeting, where he had introduced himself, giving her a much smaller bouquet of flowers asking her if he could take her mommy out for dinner. The girl too mesmerized by the flowers said yes but you could tell she was a bit reluctant to see you go with the man she barely knew. The few other times the three of you had time together was when he had breakfast with you and Izzy one morning after he and you spent the night together. Izzy had never been a shy child but she seemed to become one around Adam, never speaking to him directly. She seemed to grow more comfortable after the three of you went out one night for his annual family christmas party. Though it was more likely to have to do with Adam’s family dog than Adam himself. 

“So sweet pea, you know mommy’s friend Adam right?” You broached delicately, moving to sit closer to her in the diner booth. 

She hummed but didn’t seem to pay attention to you, only focusing on finishing her pancakes. “He smells funny,” she said absentmindedly, finishing a bite. You chuckled lightly, understanding she meant Adam’s love and slight overuse of cologne. 

“Yes he does smell funny” You agreed before broaching the subject. “Ho-How would you feel if Adam was around a little more?” You tried to read your daughter’s face but you weren’t even sure she would understand what you meant. 

She tilted her head in thought, her lips pursing to the side deep in thought. “Like Grandpa Wayne?” She asked before eating her final piece of pancake. 

You let out a fake awkward laugh “No no, sweet pea. More like a daddy” You cringed as you spoke the words, your body stiffening in preparation for her response.  Your daughter looked at you surprised, you tried to smile but you were definitely not expecting what she would do next. She laughed. 

“You so silly mommy. Adam don’t look like daddy” She only giggled and looked at you in disbelief, to say you were confused was a little to say the least. You tried to laugh with her but you were still unsure of what she meant. 

“What do you mean sweet pea?” You asked leaning closer to her as she stared at you with a smile, her fingers moving her hair away, something you noticed, knowing she would have to take a bath later. 

“Daddies got long hair, curly like mine. I remember. Adam don’t have that. He has short hair.” She explained as if it was the most obvious thing but it only made your chest ache. 

You understood now, she was talking to her about her real father and now you knew she was confused because of you. You had mistakenly shown Izzy a photo of her father and you from highschool. 

It was after her first week of school, she had come home crying that everyone else had ‘daddies’ but she only had a ‘mommy’ which is when you explained to her that her daddy was ‘far away’ and showed her the photo. It was of you both at seventeen in Hellfire shirts, his arms wrapped around your middle from behind as you looked up at him, dazed and in love and he looked at the camera, smiling. Ironic.

“Well I- Iz. Your daddy– He–. Remember when I said that daddy was far away. He is still away, and Adam H-He is right here. He would be like a new daddy? ” Your voice broke slightly as you explained, admittedly it was probably a bad explanation but you didn’t know how to.When it came to your dad your mom only told you that he was in the sky, and you never had asked for her to elaborate but you came to understand what that meant with age. 

Izzy only stared at you with a confused expression, her lips pursed once again. You could tell she didn’t fully understand what you meant by ‘away’ but she didn’t need to understand that her father was away because he didn’t want her or you. You barely understood yourself.

“But what if daddy comes back from twip” She tilted her head in question once again, she was only asking a genuine question in her mind. Though she didn’t understand how much she was breaking your heart. After you had initially told Izzy about her father and him being ‘Away’ she seemed to chipper up and became indifferent, but now you knew. She wasn’t indifferent because she stopped caring about having a father, she was still waiting for him to come back. 

You were now in Bob’s diner on the verge of tears, how were you supposed to explain it to her without hurting her feelings.Before you could find the right words, Izzy interrupted you. 

“I fink I forgot Ozzy, mommy” 

This caught you off guard, you had been so wrapped off in your thoughts and post-proposal daze that you hadn't even noticed that the bright red bunny that Izzy had humorously  named Ozzy was not attached to her or anywhere in sight. “Did you leave it at Grandpa Wayne’s?” 

“ I fink so” She said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. You looked at the clock on the diner wall, Wayne wouldn’t start work for a few minutes, maybe he could drop it off on his way? You thought to yourself.

 “Can I have my milkshake now?” Izzy, her eyes wide as she looked to you awaiting your answer for her favorite dessert. 

“Yeah Sweetpea, just let me call Grandpa Wayne. Maybe he can bring Ozzy” You put on a fake smile as you explained to her but honestly you needed to step away, to have a distraction. You knew this conversation with Izzy would be difficult but not this heart breaking.

 You took a deep breath and walked to the diner counter, you knew they would have a phone on the wall where you could call Wayne from. You also knew that Wayne could be of help when it came with conversations about absent parents to young children. 

The phone rang a few times and you were just about worried that Wayne had left for work and you would have to deal with a crying Izzy tonight, when the phone finally connected you felt a brief relief until the voice on the other line spoke. A voice you hadn’t heard clearly in years, and two words that made you feel like the earth had just shattered beneath your feet. “Munson Residence” 

It was like your vocal chords had been cut and you were frozen in place. “Hello?” the familiar  voice said again, you regained consciousness then. 

You looked to your daughter who was standing on her knees, her body stretched over the booth as she stared at you, awaiting her milkshake. You stiffly put the phone back on the receiver. You were practically shaking, as you walked back to the booth. 

“What happen mommy?” Your daughter noticed your shaking hands.You had forgotten your mother mentioned that Jeff’s father had passed but he never came back, even when all the boys did. Though he was here now. 

 “Nothing baby, nothing at all” You pulled out your wallet, setting money down as quickly as you could. You needed to leave, if he was back In Hawkins he would probably get lunch or dinner or breakfast. Bob’s Diner was his favorite place to eat when you were together, you were unsure if his tastes had changed but you were not going to risk finding out. 

“Come on, Sweetpea. Let’s go” You spoke to your daughter who only looked at you strangely. 

“But my milkshake mommy. You promithed” She whined, her lips coming to form a pout. Shit, you had forgotten about the milkshake. You could see the beginnings of a temper tantrum, so you kneeled down before your daughter. 

“I know I know. Um- How about we stop at Melvalds very very quick and I make you milkshake at home and if we make them at home, we can watch the little mermaid, how about that?” You tried to reason, after being a single mom for a few years you knew exactly how to make your daughter happy. You just needed out of this diner immediately. 

She sat in thought for a lot longer than you wanted to, but eventually agreed with an “Otay” and bounced her way out of the booth. 

Eddie Munson entered Melvalds with a ring at the door,  the sight of the store made Eddie happy that not everything had changed. It was still the same shade of blue and white, and teens were still making a mess in the chip aisle and it still played the same old 50s music. 

When Eddie was young he hated it, always wanting something good like Metallica or Black Sabbath, he even tried to convince the owner once but that only made him threaten to kick Eddie out or arrest him for loitering. Though for the first time Eddie was grateful for the boring music, it brought him a wave of nostalgia. 

Eddie made his way going straight for the beer aisle but the colorful section of candy caught his eyes. He stopped there, deciding maybe getting Wayne and himself some candy might be a good way to ease the tension. He looked for a pack of Swedish fish when a little voice spoke. 

“You look like my daddy” Eddie turned to the sight of a small girl, dressed in an overall dress, with curly hair and a missing tooth. She stared straight up at him with a smile, she was fidgety in her stance, almost bouncing in place, but she only stared at him with big bright eyes in awe. 

Eddie looked around the aisle, seeing no one else but the little girl in front of him. “I-I’m sorry.What?” 

“You” the young girl said with utmost confidence and a small finger pointed straight at him “look like my daddy” She said with more emphasis. 

Eddie laughed a nervous laugh, he kneeled down to the girls height to get a better look at the obviously confused girl. He couldn’t deny there was a slight resemblance but he wasn’t the only man with wild curly hair and brown eyes in the world. There's no way. Eddie thought.

“ I don’t think that’s possible, sweetie. I haven’t lived in Hawkins in over five years” Eddie tried to reason with the small child that he was indeed not her father, hoping she was just as confused as he was. 

“I’m almost six” She practically shouted at him with a cheeky grin on her face. One that Eddie hated to say looked familiar. She stuck her hands out, showing him six fingers. 

“Oh I— Well sweetie. I— That does not mean” Eddie tried to find a way to explain but then remembered she was a child, he looked around hoping to find the girl’s parents. A mother or even better a father, but besides a few teenagers, there was no one else. Eddie tried thinking of another solution, to try and get himself out of this situation “What is your daddy’s name?” 

This seemed to throw the young girl for a loop, her eyes widened and Eddie could see the gears in her mind turning as she twisted her mouth to the side. Which only made Eddie feel like he was looking into a mirror. Which only made Eddie feel more sick, but the denial in his mind was strong. There was only one way this child could be his, and well there was no way. Right? 

 Her small finger came to tap onto her chin, as she thought about it. “Um. I don’t member but my mommy told me a long time ago” She shrugged

Eddie smiled at the young girl but the twisting feeling in his gut didn’t subside. Eddie tried to find another way out of this uncomfortable situation, he thought that maybe he could just tell the young girl goodbye and be on his way but he still didn’t see a single person old enough to be a parent. While Eddie could admit he has been an asshole lately, he wasn’t that big of an asshole to leave a lost child alone. “Where is your mommy?” 

“She's buying me ice cream” The girl turned around and pointed at the cash register sign that read ‘Cashier 5’ 

 Though before Eddie could ask if he could walk her to her mommy, the voice of the mother seemed to begin calling “Izzy, did you pick out your candy?” 

Eddie knew that voice, it had been six years since he heard it but he undeniably knew that voice. He had dreamed about it often, and then there it was again “Izzy? Lets go” 

Then she appeared before him, the face he had dreamed of for years, for a second he thought he might be in another dream, but she looked older, more mature than in his dreams but still as beautiful as ever. Eddie only stared and smiled without thinking, while she stared at him with a look of shock and fear, both of them frozen before each other. He had wanted to see her for so long and now she was here in front of him. With a pint of ice cream in her hands? and a ring on her? Wait, did she say Izzy?

 Everything was finally coming together in his mind like lyrics to a melody. 

The two stared at each other still in shock, as if trying to find her words she only breathed out one. “Eddie” 

The two of them snapped out of their frozen daze when an abrupt loud voice of the little girl before them yelled in realization. 

“OH YEAH! That's my daddy’s name!” her large brown eyes stared at him, mirroring his own. 

Eddie Munson finally truly understood.

Things really do change. 

AN: I feel like I might have disappointed y'all with this part, but I promise there will be a lot more Eddie and reader in the next part but what do you guys think?

Please Like, Comment, & Reblog.

If your name is scratched out is because I could not find you on tumblr

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson #eddie munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #wayne munson

[helen-with-an-a]

Out of Position

Hi. So, I'm not really sure I like this but hey-ho. I'm trying to write my masters dissertation so fics may be few and far between loll but I wanted to write something. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Lucy Bronze x reader

Description: R has to play out of position for Barça

Word Count: 1.5k

The season had been … tough, to say the least.

The start of the season was great, you were playing your favourite 6 or 8 positions. You were happy there – you were racking up assists, you had your name on score sheets more regularly. Things were really looking good for you. You were in the Starting XI regularly, slowly increasing the minutes to full matches every week. Your national team coaches had noticed your efforts to, soon earning that number 8 shirt at international level. Things were looking really, really good.

And then Mapi got injured. That was a blow to the team, no doubt. Her infectious energy was sorely missed during trainings, her technical prowess and defensive knowhow that were so integral to the team was difficult to replicate. But everyone was managing incredibly well. Slowly but surely, you were being played further away from where you were comfortable. And then Alexia was out again too. Another massive knock. Not just for the team, seeing the Captain out of commission was hard on everyone, but for you in particular. You were slowly being played further back on the pitch than you were entirely comfortable with. You weren’t a defender. You did your part, when necessary, but you weren’t a defender. You were never fully happy making those harsh tackles and committing essential fouls. Your main form of defence came from interceptions – your speed was something to be noted by all commentators. You were always the first onto a wayward ball. It was something you prided yourself on. It was something the whole team prided themselves on, none-so more than Lucy.

You didn’t know how it happened really, but by the away El Clásico, your picture was being displayed on screen in the no. 5 position. Who would have thought you would end up playing against Real Madrid as a centre-back? Especially when considering you started the season as an attacking midfield and borderline striker?

“I can’t do this.” You were full on panicking in the changing rooms. Your hands were gripping the bench so tightly your knuckles were turning white; your wide frantic eyes flittered nervously around the room; your skin was cold and clammy, your breathing erratic. You were on the verge of a panic attack.

“Sí, puedes, chica.” Patri soothed, running her hand in wide comforting circles along the length of your back. You had been fine during training, and most of the warmup but you had seen Moller Hansen give you, what you interpreted to be, a menacing glare, and something had snapped in you. “Amiga, you need to breathe” Patri reminded you, exaggerating her own breathing to try and prompt yours. It wasn’t working. Marta and Irene were with you, both looking on with some concern. “Ves a buscar la Lucy.” Patri ordered one of them, not taking her eyes off you. You had moved one hand from the bench to your thigh, your nails pressing harshly into the muscles, dragging unforgiving lines up and down.

Not 30 seconds after the door swung shut behind Marta, a very concerned Lucy appeared by your side, worry etched on her face.

“Can’t … do it,” you struggled to get the words out. Lucy’s heart shattered at your words. She had seen the hours you had put in, the number of dates you had rain checked to stay late with the defensive coaches, the frequent mornings when she had woken up, alone with your side of the bed cold with a note on your pillow telling her that coffee was in the machine, she just needed to press start and that you’d see her at training. If she didn’t know where you were, she would be concerned you were cheating on her. But no, you were in the gym at the crack of dawn, strengthening your muscles and pushing yourself to go beyond your previous limits. She was exhausted just looking at the work you were doing. But it wasn’t in vain. You looked so natural in the back line; anyone that didn’t know you would think you were comfortable. But no one saw these moments and sheer and raw terror that coursed through your veins moments before you stepped out of the changing rooms.

“You can, pretty girl. I promise you; you can do it.” Lucy said, gently crushing you to her chest. She was sad to admit that this was a common occurrence.

“Scared,” you croaked out. “let the team down.”

“No, my love, you will never let us down. I promise. You can never, ever let anyone down.” She cooed, her fingers dipping under your shirt to run her nails over your bare back. She pulled back after a few moments, waiting until your breathing evened out a little bit – her comforting smell washing over you and soothing your body more than any words could do. She cupped your face, gently running her thumb across your cheek. “I love you, so, so much. There are 10 other girls on that pitch, all of them believe in you. You wouldn’t be out there if the club didn’t think you could do this.” She said her words with such conviction. You took a deep breath and nodded – not believing her words, but the noise outside the changing room was growing louder, signalling that both teams were ready to go. You were still incredibly nervous, but you did have a job to do after all. You both left the changing room hand-in-hand, taking your customary places at the back of the line.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” She whispered in your ear as she caught you staring off into the distance. You turned to look at her, a slightly guilty look on your face as your bite your lip harshly. “I love you,” she said emphatically.

“I love you,” you said softly back, not as nervous as you were before, but definitely not good.

It was a tough match. Real Madrid had really stepped up their game since the last time you were out. It was a 1 – 1 all draw that was growing more precarious every minute. You had just 10 minutes left of the match and both sides were determined to break the stalemate.

 Madrid were on the attack, having been able to pick out weaknesses in Barça’s defence. Lucy had drifted too far from her position, letting Carmona utilise the space by making a speedy break for it. You were the furthest back in your team’s line up. Your muscles were aching, your face was red with effort, yet you had to win this ball back. You couldn’t let Cata take on Carmona and Caicedo all by herself. You ran. Hell, you practically flew down that flank, pushing yourself harder and faster than you ideally wanted to.

You knew exactly what Olga was going to do before she did it. Maybe it was your experience up front? Maybe it was all the hours you had spent reviewing footage of various players you would face in the league? But you abandoned your chase on Carmona, changing your momentum to catch up to Caicedo just at the right time. Cata had drifted to the right in anticipation of Olga’s strike, but you knew she wouldn’t attempt the shot – not when Caicedo was sitting wide open with a goalkeeper-less net in front of her. You threw your body into the header – it was easily the harshest one you had given all season – possibly your whole career. Your technique was perfect though as you caught only the ball, using your momentum to bounce the ball away from the goal before bouncing painfully on the ground. You quickly rushed to your feet, watching Cata take advantage of a very confused Caicedo and a disappointed Carmona to chase the ball and boot it out into the stands.

There was a moment of quiet – at least it was quiet for you – before the world came back into focus. Your heartbeat was in your ears, your chest rising and falling dramatically as you sucked in precious oxygen. Cata was the first to get her hands to you. She shook your shoulders almost violently, your head wobbled comically at the action.

“Tu nena preciosa,” she shouted, kisses raining down on your forehead. You felt head pats and light taps on your back as you made your way back into your position.

Finally, the full whistle went. Barça had won El Clásico yet again (although it was tougher than anyone cared to admit)

“You …” Lucy said as her warm arms wrapped you in a hug. “That was the best defending I have ever seen.” She smiled, clearly wanted to say and do more.

“I learned it from you,” you whispered as you squeezed back. “The flying header. A Lucy Bronze special,” you teased.

“And you said you couldn’t defend.” She scoffed. “I’m so proud of you.” She said, pressing kisses into your sweaty hairline. You blushed profusely but smiled, nonetheless. That was all you really wanted, to make Lucy proud. “I think this calls for a treat, don’t you?” She whispered seductively into your ear as she dragged you into the changing rooms, a sly smirk dancing on her lips.

Hope you enjoyed reading <3<3<3<3

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[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 6

part 1 | part 5

October

It's Wednesday night, which means dinner at the Hendersons. Steve finally decided to show his face — and no, not because Dustin's doorstep song and dance had any effect on him; it was partly because he was sick of hearing muted metal music from across the street and mostly because he hadn't left the trailer in three days and he was starting to feel and smell like shit.

So, anyway. Dinner. Ma Henderson's pulled out all the stops: prepped a homemade lasagna, stocked the fridge with full-sugar sodas and bought the good brand of key lime pie; invited the Sinclair and Wheeler kids to make a little party of it. (Nancy was 'unfortunately too busy to attend,' thank fucking god.)

But then Ma got stuck late at work, so now it's all hands on deck. Mike and Erica are setting the table — Steve can hear Mike bitching at her because she told him the knives go the other way, dumbass; Lucas is at the fridge filling cups with ice and Pepsi and muttering to himself about how much better Coke is; Steve's got an eye on the oven, waiting for the cheese on the lasagna to bubble up juuust right; and Dustin is using "prepping the salad" as an excuse to corner Steve and annoy the ever-loving crap out of him.

“What do you mean it’s hard?” Dustin whines, dropping a handful of shredded carrots into the wooden bowl. “Just talk to him!”

Steve takes a deep breath. Mourns, briefly, for the night he could have had; the girls he could be doing hand stuff with in the back of the Beemer instead of putting up with this kid's shit. “I don’t wanna Just Talk to Him." He bends to peek through the oven door. "And, also: get off my ass about it, alright? I came to dinner, I'm heating up the lasagna. I'm, like, participating or whatever. What more do you want?”

“For you to talk to Eddie! Obviously!" Dustin's tossing the greens so aggressively that it kinda feels like he wishes he was pummeling Steve instead, and when he throws his hands up, little flecks of iceberg lettuce go raining to the floor.

Steve eyes the leafy green confetti. "You're cleaning that up."

"Come on, dude," Dustin begs. "It's been two weeks! What's the point of having friends who are next door neighbors if they refuse to get along?”

Behind them, Lucas supplies in a weirdly strangled tone: “This really doesn’t seem like the way to get him to talk to Eddie."

Thank you. Steve couldn't agree more. He turns to tell him as much and realizes the reason Lucas' voice sounded like that is because he's trying to make one trip to the dining room at any fucking cost. He's got an armful of drinking glasses and three cans of Pepsi tucked under his chin, and he's about to fumble the whole wobbly stack.

"Jesus Christ, man, cut that out!" Steve swoops in to grab the cans before they can join the lettuce shower Dustin just made. He doesn't care how much he loves Claudia, he will leave without helping if they splatter soda all over this floor. Mews the Second can lick it clean for all he cares, he's so for real. "Two at a time," he says sternly, taking the extra cups from Lucas’ hold and handing him back a reasonable amoint. He sends Lucas out of the room with a knee to the ass.

"Hey!" Lucas pouts.

"Hey yourself," he grins.

Lucas sticks out his tongue like a child (because he is one, Steve reminds himself), and when he shoulders the swinging door to the dining room he almost brains his little sister, who makes a graceful side-step and comes strutting through undeterred.

"Are you two nerds done playing good cop, annoying cop with Steve?"

"Ah-!" Dustin gawps. "I better not be the annoying cop!"

"Uh, yeah. Obviously, you are." She props a fist on her hip, a little tyrant in the making, and Steve’s ribs go tender with a fond, vaguely proud ache. He really loves her so much. "Now scram. I need to borrow Steve."

On second thought.

Surely at some point these kids, like, owe him money or some shit for the amount of weary sighs they've caused him to let out. Like, financial compensation for the years taken off his life? Something?

"Yes, Erica?" he asks, nostrils flared; eyes closed.

"You should talk to Eddie."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Steve looks up to the ceiling, pleading for anyone to grant him strength, then he turns to pull the lasagna out of the oven and watches the bubbles sizzle and pop in the hot cheese until he no longer feels like blowing up at a little girl. "Okay. Okay. And I should listen to you because…?"

Screw financial compensation.

He deserves a presidential medal for how calm he's keeping his tone.

Erica's glaring fiercely at him when he glances her way, and why is every kid he knows such a brave, confrontational little shit? "Because," she explains, "He's being mean to my brother."

Oh, fuck no. "What do you mean?" he asks, voice dropping to an urgent hiss as he feels his hackles raise. Like hell is he letting some Billy 2.0 hang around his kids. "Is he, like- Is he saying shit about you guys?"

She spares him from trying to find a tactful way to ask what he's really asking. "No," she says shortly. "But he is being a bastard about him joining the basketball team—"

"Language—" Oh, what's the point.

"—and those two nerds out there? Are obsessed with him. Especially Mike. Like, ob-sessed.” She writes the letters out in the air in front of her to really drive home the point. “Mike likes whatever Eddie likes, so you need to convince Eddie to like Lucas before Lucas loses his friends over this stupid 'jocks versus freaks' crap." She lowers her voice and jabs the skywriting finger into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "And if you tell Lucas I said any of this? It is on. sight, Steve. I will crush you."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, we good?"

"Uh huh," Steve stammers. "Y-yep. Understood."

Wow. So dignified, Steve. Really loved how you let a ten year old intimidate you. He's saved from any further bullying by the sound of keys jangling in the lock.

"Dusty!" Claudia calls out through the door, "Dustybunny, can you come help? My hands are full!"

In the dining room Steve hears Dustin groan while Mike and Lucas start immediately tearing into him for the name, mocking 'Dustybunny; oh, Dustybun!' in stupid sing-song tones.

"So I'm just gonna..." Steve says awkwardly, inching toward the door. "Go get that."

"Mhmm." Erica gives him an unimpressed look. "You do that."

—

"Oh, Steve, sweetie, thank you!" Claudia says when he opens the door, cheerful and sweet as always. He goes to take her bags from her, but she drops them all at her feet and steps forward to give him a hug, a firm and tender thing that makes an annoying lump form in his throat.

"How are you?" she asks, stepping back to look at him; eyes raking over his face, hands on his cheeks. Really looks. She frowns at whatever she sees. "How's your mom?"

"Can you please just talk to me?" Steve begs, shivering in the hallway because they haven't budgeted for turning on the heat just yet. Wasn't supposed to get this cold for another pay cycle. He tugs the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. His limbs feel stiff and tense, a budding anxiety like there’s a bomb in the base of his spine.

"Steven, darling, not now," his mother sighs as she sinks demurely onto the couch. "Then when!" he explodes. He doesn't want to yell at her, but, "Seriously, when? When are we going to say anything to each other that actually fucking matters, mom? I feel like I barely even know you anymore!"

"Yes, and I feel a migraine coming on; are you quite finished?"

"….She's fine," Steve answers.

Could be true, for all he knows.

The wrinkles between Claudia's brows deepen, like she wants to press the subject but decides to hold her tongue. "That's good to hear," she settles on after a moment, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping away with a subtle look that’s not mad, just disappointed.

Steve kind of wants to cry.

"Mom! Food!" Dustin hollers from the other room.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I swear I try to teach him manners."

"Well, good luck with that," she grins, the shadow of tension between them dissipating. Her mood is good like that. Resilient. Strong. Immune to outside force.

Steve’s moods, on the other hand, are more like those stainless steel fridges that promise to remain spotless but then end up covered in grubby handprints. (Exhibit A: he’s doing it right now.)

Thankfully Claudia’s got enough sunshine in her for the both of them. “Come on,” she says, extending a hand and wiggling her fingers for him to grab hold. “Let's eat."

—

part 7

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

Hi I love ur “imgonnagethimback” and I was wondering if I could request a enemies to lovers kind of thing like in that story, the fem slytherin reader and Mattheo riddle secretly love each other, they don’t show it but are flirty to each other and they start fake dating to make one of their ex’s jealous and end up daiting for real in the end like a happy ending

obsessed with ur ex // mattheo riddle x fem slytherin reader

playlist : obsessed - olivia rodrigo

summary : you and mattheo constantly have forced proximity being in the same friendgroup , which you hated just as much as you hate him. so its kinda weird the boy that hates you was so eager to help make your ex boyfriend jealous?

y/n used , slytherin fem reader , swearing, not proof read

thank you for the request! i did my best to fit the whole plot into one part i hope you like it

masterlist

"blaise are you nearly done with the potions book , everyone else needs to read it too?!" pansy asked impatiently , sitting across from an unbothered blaise in the library.

your whole group had decided to study together in the library , including mattheo -sadly- , meaning the arguements over books and copying eachothers work had been going on for about an hour now.

"no , im not done. pansy." blaise said plainly , knowing it would only annoy the imaptient girl more.

"blaise!-" she started shouting before being cut off by you grabbing her arm and sliding a book towards her.

"panse...we had another copy the whole time." you said quietly , not wanting to recieve her wrath.

"well why didnt you tell me that 5 minutes ago!" pansy seethed as you avoided eye contact .

"yeah y/n , it such a shame you brain isnt as high quality as your looks." mattheo winked at you from across the table as you sneered at him , quickly replacing pansys anger with your own.

"shut up riddle , i am currently holding a very heavy book and i dont think your brain would like if it came hurtling at your head!" you rambled out quickly in anger , only amusing mattheo more as he grinned at you.

you let out a defeated sigh and slouched into your chair , looking away from the boy and at the table across the library that was emtpy a few minutes ago. but not anymore. now two people sat at it - your ex boyfriend cedric and-...CHO?!

you bolted up from your chair upon seeing them , sitting forward and staring with a shocked expression.

"whats wrong baby , you look like youve seen a ghost!" mattheo laughed at you until pansy shot him a glare and put a hand on your shoulder , having seen cedric and cho aswell.

"y/n just ignore him , he was always a shitty guy-was that not obvious?" pansy tried to comfort you , eventhough it had no effect on your shattered heart.

you and cedric broke up last week , and he was already cuddling with cho in the library?! you didnt think it was even possible to move on that fast.

by this point mattheo had turned to peer at what you stared at to , spotting cedric and scowling.

"dickhead." he muttered to himself , lorenzo having heard it smirked at him.

"i-..." you started , "i want to be sad about it but i....still like cedric."

the whole group gaped at you , shocked by your sudden confessions as theodore broke the silence, "how can you still like that thing?! he broke your heart y/n."

"we were together for ages theo , its not something i can get over in a week." you replied , arguing for your emotions.

"yeah well he clearly didnt show any signs of struggle," mattheo scoffed as you glared at him, firey-eyed.

"fuck you riddle! read the room!" you said quickly with anger before getting up out of your seat , scraping it harshly along the floor before running out of the library.

"way to go mattheo mate," lorenzo said , rolling his eyes.

"they were together for 6 months not a fucking century , shes just being dramatic." mattheo argued back with a shrug.

"its different for girls mate." blaise added , suprisingly deciding to defend you rather than joining in on the teasing.

"very different , remember in second year when you cried for weeks over you 2 day ravenclaw boyfriend panse-?" draco started before being cut off by a flushed pansy.

"shut up draco!" she exclaimed as the whole group laughed at her , asides from mattheo who had long since got up and left the library.

----

"sorry." mattheo said quietly to your curled up frame once he found you in an empty corridor , sat on the floor with you head hung low.

"piss off riddle im not in the mood." you muttered , your voice breaking slightly.

there was a short break of silence as mattheo searched his thoughts for what to do in order to help you.

"lets date." mattheo said confindantly , breaking the heavy silence.

you head snapped up at this , allowing him to see your tear stained face and shocked expression look up at him.

"what?!"

"lets date." mattheo said before panicking , "not-not real date! lets fake date make-.....cedric....jealous"

the bitter way he said cedrics name made you cringe as you replayed his words in your head , "youd...do that for me-?"

"yes!" he cut you off with zero hesititation.

you slowly got up from the ground , dusting off your uniform and walking towards an increasingly nervous mattheo riddle, "thank you mattheo. id love to fake date you"

mattheos whole body heated up as you said his name , he was so used to being called 'riddle' , you saying his name felt like a blessing from the great divine.

"y-youre...youre welcome" he stuttered out as you smiled at the boy , a genuine smile.

"wait outside my dorm tomorrow morning , we can walk to breakfast together!" you grinned happily , deciding not to question your own excitement.

-----

"hi mattheo!" you said happily as you stepped out of your dorm , finding the boy nervously stood outside the door.

"hi," he said quietly , avoiding your eye until you grabbed his face and forced him to look at you.

"you need to look at me if you want people to believe us, babe." you said with a smirk as mattheo turned bright red clearing his throat and pulling your hand off his face.

"right - youre right. lets go." he said before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away from you.

"stop!" you called out to him as he sighed and turned back around , waiting as you walked towards him.

once you were finally infront of him, you placed your bag from your shoulder to his , "boyfriends carry their girlfriends bags".

he scoffed , ready to argue back before you grabbed his wrist and pulled a green bracelet out of your pocket , along with a hair tie.

"and they wear matching bracelets!" you grinned as you slipped the accessories onto his wrist and help up your own wrist , showing him the purple bracelet that you also wore , the same as his but just a different colour.

mattheo blushed deeply , staring down at the bracelet and hair tie , "did-..was this cedrics?"

you looked at him , confused and slightly offended , "no? of course not! i made these last night!"

you pointed at your bracelet that had a letter M charm on it , shining brightly and making mattheos icy persona melt to a poodle of chilling love.

"oh-..thanks." he said awkwardly , holding back a smile.

"dont mention it! lets go." you said before intertweining your hand with his and dragging a flustered mattheo down the corridor and towards the great hall.

---

you whole journey to the great hall had been accompanied by whisperes and points towards the two of you , people gasping at your hand in mattheos and your bag on his shoulder.

"i wonder if cedric will notice." you whispered to mattheo as you walked through the doors of the great hall.

you didnt realise that mattheos grip on your hand had tightened after hearing your words , his body stiffening at the sudden memory of what all this was for. you didnt actually like him. and he hated that.

or atleast he didnt think you liked him.

---

"i still can believe it." pansy said as you both laid on your beds , gossiping in your dorm.

its been two weeks of you 'fake dating' mattheo and it had been going well , cedric seems to be acknowledging you more and your whole group had noticed the increased amount of times mattheo smiled a day. and it had increased a lot.

"panse , whats so hard to believe , he offered a way to get cedric jealous and i took it!" you said , matter of factly.

"yeah but why mattheo! i thought you would reject him and do it with like - enzo instead!" pansy rambeled as you turned and looked at her , laughing.

"pansy it isnt that serious!"

"are you sure about that...seriously y/n i never seen you two so happy before..." pansy said softly , confronting you.

you couldnt deny that you were happy ,so happy that it made you realise it was never cedric you deeply cared about. you accepeted mattheos offer because it was mattheo. but you just werent ready to admit that to him yet.

"i-...i think i like mattheo. theres no use denying it to you - you can read me like a book."

"yay! im so glad youve admmited it , now go confess!" pansy squealed , getting up to try and drag you off your bed.

"pansy im in my pajamas and its 11:50pm , it can wait!" you laughed as pansy sighed and let go off your legs , stumbling back to her bed.

"okay fair enough. but you need to confess soon lover girlll!" pansy teased as you giggled and threw a pillow at her.

----

"i like you y/n."

okay a little bit of context.

you were just sat at your table in the great hall ,resting your head on mattheos shoulder when a deep voice from behind you interupted the group. and thats how we got here! with cedric diggory stood infront of you confessing he 'likes you' in front of all your gobsmacked friends. not to mention your furious boyfr- fake. boyfriend..

"what-" you started before being cut off by mattheos lips on yours.

all of your friends gasped loudly as you froze completely , he continued to kiss you softly , giving you time before you eventually kissed back.

it felt like forever had passed by before panys tense voice cut you and mattheo apart, "guys hes gone please - PLEASE STOP!"

you both quickly moved back , your eyes awkwardly scanning you friends, landing on pansy who covered her eyes and looked down with disgust.

"well thats put me off my food." draco stated , dropping his fork with frustration as you turned bright red.

you turned to mattheo , who only looked at you, searching your expression for a single glimpse of happiness about the kiss. just when he thought he wouldnt find it you abtruptly stood from the table and ran out of the hall , to the nearest abandoned corridor.

you paced back and forth replaying what had happened until the loud sound of running distracted you , mattheo running to stand infront of you and stop your pace.

"y/n-" he started before you cut ihm off , finally making eye contact.

"why would you do that mattheo?!" you asked in pure confusion.

"i know i know- the whole point was to get diggory to like you and i blew it - im so sorry-" he stuttered.

"i love you!" you shouted over him.

the long break of silence that followed nearly made you burst into tears of humiliation.

your realisation for the love you held for mattheo came on the night you talked with pansy , you asumed he liked you back but the tense atmosphere you currently stood in made you heart break with every passing minute.

"i love you too...i-i love you so much and i have for ages-" he started before being cut off by your lips harshly on his again, the kiss holding more passion and meaning than the last.

after a while you pulled away and wrapped your arm around his neck ,smiling up at the flushed boy.

"it was never really about diggory , i was upset sure; but i only accepted your offer because i- i wanted to date you" you whispered with hot cheeks as mattheo smiled down at you adoringly.

"good because im yours," you both laughed lightly as he brushed a hand through your hair, "be my real girlfriends y/n y/l/n?"

"i thought youd never ask!"

a/n : this is lowkey kinda ass sorry LMAO

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo x reader #riddle #hogwarts #harry potter x reader #harry potter #hp fanfic #x reader #hp #hp fandom #slytherin #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini x reader #theodore nott #draco malfoy #olivia rodrigo #obsessed #obsessed with your ex #slytherin x reader #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory #the stars are brighter tonight masterlist #request

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader)

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, implied ED

Parts

Part 1// Part2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

School trips were never really your thing. Sure it was good to be out of classes but to you it just seemed like an extension of school and honestly you’d rather be anywhere else.

One of the teachers thought it would be a bright idea to take you all out of school for a week to spend it in a forest ‘immersed in nature’. Possibly their tactic to get everyone to stop being at eachother a throats especially after the whole Cady incident a few months back.

It didn’t help that your best friends Janis and Damien both ended up getting sick at the last minute so couldn’t come with you , now you had to stay in your shared cabin alone. At least you didn’t have to room with a random person the whole trip, small mercies I guess.

The coach drive there was boring. You sat near the front, making sure to put your bag on the seat next to yours so nobody tried to sit with you. Of course Queen Regina and her minions took ownership of the back of the coach, that’s why you decided to sit upfront. Best to stay out of the firing line.

It’s not that you hated Regina, you understand why she’s the way she is. It’s a smart move to position yourself at the top of the food chain to avoid being mauled. Your tactic has always been to just steer clear of the food chain entirely which has worked so far.

The coach finally comes to a stop after a few hours and everyone shoves their way off and mills around in groups before a teacher starts to call out names and lodge numbers so people can go and unpack.

As soon as you turn the corner you hear Regina’s shriek of horror.

“Eww, what the fuck are these. I thought we were staying in chalets”

You roll you eyes. The cabins were clean, neat, maybe a little rustic. Of course Regina would still have to be dramatic about it.

“I’m sure forcing us to stay in one of these is some form of neglect.” She snarks at Mrs Norbury as she takes her hot pink suitcase over to her accommodation.

Luckily you get assigned one of the cabins at the edge of the forest, it’ll be quiet. Unfortunately it’s the next cabin over from the plastics. Not that they’ll even notice you there, I’m not sure any of them even know your name. It feels safe to be invisible, if not a bit lonely.

Once everyone is settled, a teacher comes round to each cabin explaining that tonight you can just get settled. No hiking or activities today, just a campfire and dinner later. That suits you perfectly. You sit on the creaky bed in your cabin, pull out your Switch console and start to get lost in a game. Hours pass before dinner call and you make your way, alone to the campfire.

You sit on your own, out of the way of all the different high school cliques. At this point you wish Janis and Damien were here. It feels vulnerable sitting alone.

To distract yourself you watch the other groups like a documentary maker. Noting the way they interact, the tension between them and the clique next to them. However nobody quite catches your eye like Regina.

She’s like a lioness. She has this invisible hold over everyone. They can all fuck about in their own groups but as soon as someone steps a foot out of place she roars and swishes her mane and everyone scampers back to obedience.

Currently she’s sitting at a bench with Gretchen and Karen, they’re talking enthusiastically about their plans for the trip; makeovers, cabin decoration, girly shit. Regina seems zoned out, she’s been pushing the same bit of food around her plate for a good 15 minutes. Every few minutes it’s like she’s trying to solve a puzzle, rearranging everything until teachers tell us to go back to our cabins and rest for the evening. You’re not sure you saw her eat a single thing, the food is probably not up to her standards.

Regina stands and suddenly seems snapped out of her trance, flashing a grin and summoning Karen and Gretchen back to the cabin with her.

You follow, a good distance behind. No point getting too close to danger, and slip back to your Cabin unnoticed.

There’s not much to do alone in a forest so you end up putting on a movie and start a new page in your sketchbook. Janis and Damien are the only ones to know you draw. That’s how you ended up speaking with Janis in the first place. If that news ever got back to Regina she’d probably have something to finally pick on you for, but so far you aren’t even on her radar.

You lose a lot of time sketching out some of the trees you can see out of the window, lots of tall, looming pines fill the page, you start to sketch a lion between the trees.

Eventually darkness creates a blanket around the forest. There’s a soft glow from many lamps outside of cabin doors, but past that, the forest seems endless in the dark. It’s 10:30pm. Teachers are fast asleep. Students definitely are not.

You hear snickering coming from the plastics cabin. Their lights are still on, not that you care at all.

Since all the teachers are asleep you decide that it’s probably safe to sneak out and have a cigarette. You stand down the side of the cabin so that your silhouette is obscured slightly by a bush and hunt through your pockets for a lighter. Finally you light the cigarette, trying to blow the smoke downwind, away from the teachers window.

“Karen! Fuck! Would you just stop puking, shut up!”

You watch from the shadow as Karen falls out of the door and begins to heave into the bush next to their window. Gretchen follows quickly, shaking Karen by the shoulders, desperately trying to get her to shut up so they don’t wake anyone. Regina steps out too, slightly loosing balance and nearly falling down the steps after them.

Clearly they’re all drunk. Someone must have snuck alcohol in.

Regina tries to keep a composed look but you see panic flash across her face briefly as her eyes scan around them, watching for any witnesses. You stay completely still against the cabin wall.

Karen finally stops for a second and they grab her by the arms to try and get her back inside. Their balance isn’t very good either and on the way in Regina’s foot connects briefly with a terracotta plant pot which wobbles for a second and then crashes to the ground, smashing over the front step. A sound that cuts through the night air.

The light to the teachers cabin flicks on.

You quickly drop the cigarette and stomp it out before silently scrambling back into your room, making sure the door closes soundlessly, watching intently through the window.

Mrs Norbury storms over to the plastics lodge, already suspecting they caused the noise.

You can’t make out exactly what’s being said. There’s a lot of shouting, from both parties. Then Mrs Norbury leaves, and the plastics light goes off too.

You quickly get into bed. It’s unlikely anyone will check in on you, but you decide it’s time to sleep anyway, it’s late, and drift off to the sound of the wind through trees. The wind sounds faintly like a roar.

In the morning you shower and begin to get changed when there’s a knock at your door.

“Regina will be rooming with you for the rest of the week, make sure she doesn’t try sneaking out.”

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #renee rapp #mean girls fanfic #regina george fanfic #lesbian Regina george

[1800jjbarnes]

◆ 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ◆

Kinktober is finally here. Sorry this took so long... I have been quite sick. But the links should all be fixed up now.... Also, this is my first time writing this event as well, so eh. If it's bad, I'm sorry. But, without further ado, let's get started. ♥︎

All works are mature, viewers be advised.

Masterlist Menu

Day 1: Car Sex - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : A trip turned sour due to a storm. But, luckily, Steve knows just the thing in turning this gloomy day into a more steamy one.

Day 2: Voyeurism - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Biker Gang Leader doesn't like sharing unless it's to do with his best friend.

Day 3: Shower Sex - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : When Bucky comes from a long and stressful day, he only wants one thing... You bent over.

Day 4: Food Play - [STEVE ROGER]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It all started with a simple dinner and a movie. But when Steve asked if you wanted dessert, you knew your sugar was about to spike from more than just the sweetness of the fruits and chocolate.

Day 5: Exhibitionism - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky couldn't keep his hands off you on a regular basis. But when he sees you in such a sexy outfit, he has no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.

Day 6: Rough/Possessive sex - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to show your hot-headed lover that you could protect yourself. And what better way than to go looking for his number on rival....

Day 7: Thigh riding/dry humping - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You sweet boyfriend wanted to share something with you. But your neediness had other plans.

Day 8: Sensory Deprivation - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were his work of art, and he loved to watch you squirm under him.

Day 9: Cock Warning - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky kept getting lost over and over again. Becoming increasingly more frustrated with the technology in front of him as time passes, it's a good thing you are here to help him cool off.

Day 10: Bondage - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It's Bucky turn to know what it feels like to have rope pull and tug on his beautiful skin, and he can't help my whimper at the sheer idea of it.

Day 11: Bike Sex - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky had begged for weeks for you to go for a ride with him... Cavinging in, you finally realize how pleasurable it is to ride his bike.

Day 12: Size Kink/Size Difference - [STUCKY]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your two professors were more than happy to show you some tips and tricks to help you study.

Day 13: Breath Play - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky can't help but send death glares to any man who tried to have your attention for too long. Too bad you don't belong to him… yet.

Day 14: Marking/Biting - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wanda needed your help with trying out one of her experiments, and let's just say Steve was about to never let you leave the bedroom ever again because of it.

Day 15: Dumbification/Corruption - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bad Boy Bucky wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?

Day 16: Spit Play - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were in love with the enemy, and oh, how it was it exciting.

Day 17: Fingering/Squirting - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You needed him, any part of him. But Steve wanted to see you squirm. To see you cry and beg for him to satisfy you.

Day 18: Toys/Mirror Sex - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Steve couldn't decide what gift to buy you while he was on a mission in paris. So he bought them all and now wants you to try them out. Every. Single. One.

Day 19: Dacryphillia - [STUCKY]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?

Day 20: Sex pollen - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were gifted an Asgardian plant from Thor since he knew you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.

Day 21: Temperature Play - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your undead lover had finally come back from a late night hunt, finding you shivering from the winter weather. But do not fret, as he was...skilled in keeping others warm-ish.

Day 22: Double Penetration - [STUCKY]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You're the newest member to join one of the most famous rock bands. And luckily for you they are all hot...and fuckable.

Day 23: Praise/Body Worship -[BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Doll cry.

Day 24: Cum eating overstim - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.

Day 25: Caught in the act - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to help your boyfriend relax. It just so happened that some poor soul decided to interrupt.

Day 26: Sir Kink/Mafia both - [STUCKY]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were hiding a big secret from your two loving boyfriends. What happens when they finally find out?

Day 27: Succubus/incubus - [STEVE ROGERS]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Halloween is filled with spooky ghost stories and haunted places. But what if you end up walking right into a nightmare that was hiding a dream?

Day 28: Tentacles - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You're a mercenary, searching for your next job in the galaxy. Little did you know, being stuck on a wateland planet was about to gift you more than just galactic credits.

Day 29: Monster Fuckers - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.

Day 30: Werewolf On Heat/Breeding - [BUCKY BARNES]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were, and Bucky was going to help you through it.

Day 31: Dilf And Filth - [STUCKY]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your professors just want to help you learn and gain knowledge. Your first lesson happened to be very educational...

—

© 1-800-JJBarnes. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

#1-800-jjbarnes #marvel #jjbarnes #bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky x steve #stucky x plus size reader #stucky #stucky x y/n #steve rogers smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #bucky x plus size reader #stevebucky #stucky x reader #stucky x you #bucky barnes x you #mcu steve rogers #steve rogers x reader

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 2)

I have a terrible case of the big bad sads so enjoy part 2 earlier than I planned

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

Part 2 Liar

You not-stalk Alastor for weeks but don’t find anything blackmail worthy to grab ahold of. But luckily (?) for you, a chance encounter pulls you deeper into his hobbies and therefore his scope of fascination. Most importantly, do murderers go on dates?

「Warnings/Promises: Smut, HumanAlastor x FemBurlesquerReader, Alastor eats pussy like beignets (MESSY), dancing, shoe stress, murder, dead body, food metaphors, stalking, masturbation, Tommy is a bad dude, allusion to coerced prostitution, praise kink?, public sex acts, stage name is a fucking pun GOTCHU BITCHES, Gluttony」

minors dni please

The nights you didn’t work were spent casually looking for Alastor. Not stalking, just …. pursuing. 

You found over the course of several weeks what places he never attended, and a few that he did like clockwork. As much as you wanted to approach him, you knew you’d end up checkmated again. You just wanted to observe the man, surely you’d see something you could use against him, something tangible.

What was he doing? Knife carrying smooth talker who fingers ladies in the park? There was more to him than you anticipated. That addictive adrenaline rush was calling you to chase him. You’d catch him in the act of whatever men like him did, and—- well, you’d figure it out then. Was he a mugger, maybe? The knife would make sense. But he disposed of bodies so well, a month and no mention of a corpse anywhere. You didn’t want to even touch the thought bubbling up in the back of your skull. It was getting louder and louder, heavier than the other thoughts.

A repeat killer.

You decided, somewhat foolishly, if he was a killer it would be best to know that information. So you needed to continue even if the cards all read death. Right? 

Right.

For all his efforts, he hadn’t actually noticed you. While he tended to stay at the back of the room, you were always further back, on the balcony, at the bar. He went about enjoying his nightlife wholly unaware someone was watching. Because of this, he did things that were considered quite dangerous for a woman.

Many nights you found yourself alone in wooded areas. Well, “alone”. 

During your casual stalking you found him to be quite pretty, in a sense. He walked smoothly, always had pressed and tailored suits. Slender fingers, wide shoulders, small waist. Fingers.

Many more nights you buried your face into your pillow and thought about his hands on you, his breath at your ear. His “Shhh.” You couldn’t replicate the feeling. No matter how you tried.

If all else failed, no juicy blackmail available, maybe just endear yourself to him. Bed him. Get the conquest done and let him go on with his little crime spree or whatever it was he was doing when you weren’t watching. Because so far all you’ve seen is a man who loves to dance and enjoys whiskey. 

After another show done, body sore, you did your tour of the theatre. Tommy was snapping his fingers at you from the bar, his attempt to tell you to come over. Every day he seemed to become more and more brutish.

“What can I do for ya?” You tried to keep a bounce in your step, arches aching. 

“I want you to meet someone.” Tommy turned to a small man at the bar, hair thinning and combed forward. You guessed in his sixties. “Give Mr. Wilson a warm welcome. He’s one of your most generous benefactors.”

You nodded, smile slipping as you mind started to consider what was happening. You had heard some girls were taking dates, offering private shows, but you had been under the impression that was entirely of their own free will and desire. Had Tommy turned pimp? Your gaze flashed to Tommy, his stare cold, and then back to the man. “Well, thank you very much doll! Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wilson.” Tommy saw someone walk by and followed, leaving you with the older man. 

“Your dance was something else, sweetheart.” You nodded, his hand coming to rest on your hip. “I bet those hips do more than dancing.”

Leaning in, you rested your hand on the hand he set on your hip and whispered into his ear, “Touch me again without my permission,” you lifted his tie, a flirtatious move to anyone watching, “And the next time you see this tacky tie, you’ll be shitting it out.” You patted his chest. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

You pushed through the crowd and out of the front doors of the theatre. The air chillier tonight than past weeks. Looking around, you balled your fists. You wanted to hit something, break something.

Without any destination you tore off down the street, angrily huffing to yourself. You looked both ways to cross the intersection when you saw a familiar silhouette. A car honked, your hands coming up in apology as you finished crossing the street to follow Alastor.

Was your luck miraculous? Or malignant? You made it several blocks before a man stepped in front of you. You weren’t listening, trying to look past him to see where Smiles was headed.

“Will you fuck off?!” You pushed him out the way only to have him pull you back by the arm. Before you could let out your frustration, a stranger walked up to you both. 

“Hands off, move along.” The stranger flashed his identification papers, making the offender leave quickly with his head down. “Miss you need to be careful out here. There’s been people missing from this ward. Pretty thing like you should be home.” 

Your mouth formed various shapes, no words fitting.

“Detective Brady.” He handed you a card.

I don’t want this.

“Sure, thanks.” You snatched it with two fingers and practically jogged away. No sign of him, no indication where Alastor went. Were there any forested areas? He often took strolls in shady parks but you couldn’t remember any nearby. Turning around you realized how far you’d wandered from the fanfare and lights. The area was dark and deserted, not just Alastor but no one was around anymore. You stashed the card in your bra and rushed past an alley, giving up and deciding to just go home, when your ears caught the sound of dragging fabric on pavement.

Ice. Your blood chilled. Taking a few steps backwards, you turned to look into the darkened side street. You saw nothing, but heard a familiar wet sound.

Would it matter? Death?

You lifted your heels, walking on the balls of your feet to not make any sound as you approached the black shadow blanketing the majority of the side street.

A glimpse of brown leather shoes peeked into the light, soon your eyes adjusted as you too entered the inky darkness.

“I don’t care for liars.” Alastor was in front of you before you could even shout from shock. You looked around him to see a crumpled body on the ground and a black car.

“Is there a problem?” His eyes scanned your face, his usual smile no longer so inviting but instead manic and wide. You don’t know what possessed you, the adrenaline was flowing again and drowning out your more sensible thoughts. 

Your eyes were locked on his golden brown stare, “Only… if you’re quite attached to his wallet.”

He burst into laughter, wiping tears with the back of his bloodied glove. A small smear of blood was left behind on his cheek.

“I have no need for it.” He reached down and fished it out of the man’s pocket, “And neither does he!”

You caught it with both hands, “Well doesn’t that make me the lucky lady of the evening.”

“Don’t speak too soon. I’m quite cross with you.” He gestured at you with the knife, “We had a deal.”

In what could best be described as an out of body experience you watched yourself rush to his side and lift the man’s legs, “In the trunk?”

Alastor stared at you, teeth showing as his smile grew, “I’ve seen films less entertaining than you.” A stifled laugh as he lifted the man from under his arms and you both carried him to the car. You dropped the legs with a loud thud, Alastor gently setting the man down and opening the trunk.

A waxed canvas was lining the inside, “Clever.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He hummed happily at the compliment and you sank your teeth into the reaction. Everyone wants something; power, money, sex, praise. Find the right combination and even the toughest hearts would swing open. 

After he tossed the man, the knife, and the gloves into the back, you reached for his hand. “Your wife is going to be miffed. Blood is so difficult to get out of cotton.” You scratched at the bit of blood that had stained his cuff. “Spit works really well. But lemon juice and baking soda before any store bought cleaners will help.”

Alastor took his hand back, adjusting his sleeve to hide the red spot, “Oh she has much bigger issues to deal with.”

Your mind raced. A chauvinist? Abuser? A weight settled into your stomach; disappointment. “Is that so?”

Giggling, he leaned against the bumper, one leg crossing in front of the other, “Considering she doesn’t exist, she’s quite terrible at laundry. And I haven’t eaten a meal in years.” A giggle devolving into a full chest laugh. 

A terrible joke, you smacked his chest, “Cruel! Unfunny!” 

“Perhaps I should eat you?” He leaned close. 

“I hear I’m quite sweet.” You smirked, heart pounding in your chest with such force you were rocking slightly with each pulse.

Alastor felt his blood pressure rising. He should kill you. Just to be safe. But—- oh, this was so fun. You hid any fear you were feeling perfectly. He could be forgiven to think he was staring into a mirror. If he met himself in an alley, well, he would feel quite safe. Perhaps you we’re of a similar inclination?

He watched your throat as you gulped. You licked your thumb and wiped at his cheek, “You always make a mess, hun.”

Alastor felt the world spin as you then dragged your blood stained thumb over your lips, red lipstick smearing with it. “Sweet eno-,” he swallowed your words, hand coming to your neck and pulling you into the kiss. No patience, his tongue swiped over your mouth and plunged in at the smallest parting. 

Your mind was screaming, finally, yes. 

His tongue as soft as his hands rolled over your own, every time your mouths pulled away and drew back together was thinning your frontal cortex. Alastor could taste the faint metallic tinge of the man’s blood on your mouth, and he found his sleeping libido shiver awake. Always a fan of kissing, he now found his mind wandering to other parts of your body, other acts of affection, as he felt you’d call them.

No time. He pulled away, “Against the wall.”

You practically threw yourself into the bricks. Alastor pulled a gas tin from the trunk and began dousing the street. You frowned, body relaxing.

“You’re taking the food metaphor too far. Fire? Really?” You took a second to realize there was no odor.

A laugh in threes, “Water, dear.” You watched the blood thin and begin snaking down to the gutter. He set the can in the trunk and closed the hatch. After opening the drivers door he turned to you, “Do you trust me to drive you home?”

“Honestly, no.”

“That’s why I like you,” a wink. “Wear comfortable shoes tomorrow.” He flashed a smile, pushing his glasses up. Before you could question him he  hopped into the car and drove off out of the back of the side street.

Alastor found himself singing a little louder as he drove home. A thrilling evening becoming somehow more exciting. He realized that always seemed to happen when you stumbled into his plans. Still annoyed you had followed him, his thoughts shifted to possibilities. A kindred spirit could make things easier. More fun. Safer. But who were you? Much like himself you wore a mask. He could see it clearly as it always began to slip in his presence. 

He pulled his car behind his home, backed up against a large greenhouse. Still in the idling vehicle, his fingers came to his lips. What a peculiar creature you were. Killing the lights and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he considered what to do. The possibilities kept coming in waves. But he stopped himself, never one to live in fantasy. Helping toss a dead man into a car wasn’t the same as killing. Yes, you showed no outward concerns, but he couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t turn tail the second things got more intense. 

He always took his time, sensing out those who were good candidates. The abhorrent, the abusers, the cruel. There was something so satisfying, deep in his gut, to watch a person with power over others cower in fear. The same eyes that relished in the pain they gave to those under their thumb shaking in realization the were now the prey. Begging for mercy they didn’t afford others. Alastor sighed. He remembered your pained sob in the park, frustration and disappointment at his lack of reaction. Eyes fluttering closed, if you had gotten in the car you’d not be disappointed in him now. 

A deeper sigh. But you didn’t. Which was wise. He thought better of you for it. Opening his eyes and leaving the car, he went to the trunk to begin his work.

You couldn’t sleep. Not because of the dead man, you were getting used to that. It was the lack of information. Comfortable shoes? For what? He didn’t give you a time or place to meet.

Tomorrow was Sunday, you realized. Ah, the bar. That was the only place that would make sense. 

Sundays were big nights for your theatre, but you weren’t needed unless a girl was sick. You simply weren’t at that level of fame for your little company and this was fine for you suddenly. You spent your Sunday pacing your small one room apartment and changing shoes.

What did Alastor have planned? With the little you knew about him it a could be a capital crime or a walk in the park. You genuinely couldn’t imagine and it was exciting. A normal man asking you—- was this a date? Was it presumptive to call it a date? You couldn’t quite see Alastor dating. You let the question go. Most men would take you for a movie and perhaps a chaste kiss at the door of a cab. With Alastor it could be literally anything. How do you dress for anything? 

Your friend teased you, arriving early to her bar and chewing on your lip. 

“So, either you suddenly wanna look nice for my dive, or you’re expecting someone.” She was wiping down the counter.

“I adore your customers, Betty.” You hopped from the seat, needing to reapply your lipstick.

Your singing voice was strained, nerves keeping you tense. Looking into the modest crowd you couldn’t find him. A cornflower yellow dress, a little too tight around your waist but you didn’t let that stop you. The collar a loose and folding slit from shoulder to shoulder, you were positively cute, he decided. Leaning at the bar he couldn’t see your face, but under the small lights you were glowing nonetheless. A little ball of pride rose in his gut, noticing you clearly had put more care into your appearance tonight than most Sundays. 

Truth was he had enjoyed a whiskey and your songs for several months now, always at the seat closest to the door, out of sight and out of mind. His favorite of your casual dive bar digs were the trousers you occasionally wore. You looked so sharp.

When your set was done, you tried to be gracious as you left the piano’s side. Alastor watched you from his seat, letting your face light up once again when you recognized him. He gave a noticeable look to your shoes. 

“Those will do.” 

“Do what?” 

“You,” he leaned against the bar, “owe me a drink. And alcohol always pairs well with dance.”

Maybe a date, you thought. You offered him your arm, “Lead the way.”

As you walked, arm in arm, you found yourself not needing to speak much. His arm was so solid in yours. You felt like everyone was looking, the handsome man and the pretty young thing. Did you two look sweet? Like the cleanest cut kids in the neighborhood? Did you look like the kind of people who sat in pews once a week and clasped hands over dinner?

Did you look like the sort to toss bodies in cars? No, decidedly not. And it made you feel powerful. What a perfect act. The feeling of looking nothing like what you were was akin to the addicting rush of your cat and mouse game with most men. 

“Do you like those group dances? Like the Big Apple?” Alastor asked as he opened the doors for you. 

“Not particularly…”

“Perfect, neither do I.” He laughed. 

A small table in a small nook of a booth lining the small dance floor. You clinked your glasses together, no toast necessary, and watched the couples swing around the room. As the 20’s were fading from the rear view, you all hoped dance would be less stigmatized. But part of the fun was how scandalous it was. 

“How was your day? Made it home safe and sound?” Alastor crossed his legs and leaned into the plush booth seat. 

Oh, this was going to be… normal? You choked a little on your drink, surprised. “Honestly?”

“Always.”

“I sat in my apartment changing my shoes repeatedly.”

Alastor’s laugh was loud and sharp, but you didn’t find it obnoxious. You liked it.

“That wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to risk you being unable to dance.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a slow sip with your gaze on the dancers, “Ya know how to avoid that? Tell me to wear shoes for dancing.”

A snicker, “Perhaps I’m not quite as skilled with talking to women as I like to think.”

“Then talk to me like a man.” Your glass made a thud as it hit the table. Alastor’s eyes widened as they always did when you said something wildly amusing to him.

“Hmm, I don’t talk much to men.” He thought, “Not for long conversations, that is.” Your mind conjured up the two dead men. “I never asked your name. Is it too late now?”

“You saw it on the posters. Autumn.”

Alastor smirked, “Autumn Hind is not your real name. That is clearly a stage name.”

Swirling your drink in its crystal, you smiled, “It’s a good one though, you have to admit.” His brow cocked, not understanding. “Hind, a doe. And what do does do in the fall?” Your own brows rose suggestively. 

Alastor hit the table, “A deer pun?! Oh darling, we’re going to be fast friends.” He offered you his glass for another wordless toast.

“I thought it was pretty funny, for a burlesque dancer no less. A horny little deer prancing on stage. Better than Allie Way and Frosti Winters.” You grinned into the glass, proud of yourself.

You could see Alastor physically relax beside you, dancers moving about in front of you both. 

“And yours? Your day, that is.”

He hummed, “I slept late, stayed up late. Took care of our newly penniless friend.” 

You wanted to ask more, what did you do with him? Can I come next time? Is there a pool of gators somewhere eating well today?

He leaned in to you, “May I have this dance?”

Your smile was uncontained, all desire to control your outward appearance was lost in the fun of dancing with your newest partner. Was there anyone else in the room with you anymore? Who knows. The music kept playing and that was all you needed. 

Alastor was a marvelous dancer,  you noticed other women glancing his way, eye lashes fluttering but ignored as he focused on the movements. This was how you managed to not-stalk him so well, he was completely unaware of the interested gazes of those around him.

While he didn’t notice the individual stares, Alastor could feel the attention on him and it made his chest puff. He loved it, how he could feed an image to the masses and be seen as he saw fit. It was something you both had in common, even if neither of you had strong enough egos to vocalize it yet.

When the music wound down, a slow number for the lovers, you hadn’t expected Alastor to stay on the dance floor. A slow dance, one arm on your hip, hand in hand. 

Now close, you felt you could speak without risk of others eavesdropping. 

“Why did you invite me out? I have a distinct memory of you saying you had very little affection or time.” You were shorter than him, your shoes not very tall, so you had to speak up and at his neck.

“A man who says he has no time is a man unwilling to make any.” Alastor led you in a small sway along the floor.

“Oh so you just didn’t see me worth the effort before.” You said it half teasingly, half seriously.

He looked down now, eyes meeting yours again, “That was before I knew how entertaining you could be.”

You pouted, entertaining was not the word you wanted to hear. Enthralling, Enchanting, Endearing. 

“There’s that face again. What ever could it mean.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side.

“I’m entertaining at work. You don’t need to take me out to enjoy my entertainment value.” 

He laughed again, making you glare, “Darling, being entertaining is high praise. And you’re not entertaining at work. You’re bewitching.” He pulled you a little closer, “The way you make those men act a fool. Truly a sight. You wield a power many women just dabble in.”

You shimmied a little against his chest, “Well if we’re giving out compliments…” you remembered the satisfying hum from last night, “The canvas was clever, but the water in the cans was brilliant. Nothing suspicious about a little petrol in the trunk.”

His grin widened. “And your precision. One cut and that brute was down. It was remarkable.” The hand holding your waist began to tighten. It egged you on, whether he intended it to or not, “I can appreciate the way you carry yourself.” Your freehand ran across his vest, suit jacket left at the table, “I wish I could see more.”

Your chest pressed against his, trapping your hand. “Ooh, you are observant, little one. Why did you agree to come out? Still chasing my,” his hips pressed against yours, hand sliding down slightly to hold you close, “affection?”

Fingers playing with his buttons, “Hmm, debilitating fascination and your affection. Do you have any to spare?” You smiled sweetly up at him.

Your mouths were on each other before the bathroom door closed behind you. Alastor locking it without looking, one hand staying on your neck. The small room was just a single toilet and a bathroom cabinet with a built in sink. Little tulip shaped light sconces above the mirror made the room brighter than the dance hall. Your nails lightly grazed his scalp, him humming in return. His body was pressing yours against the wall, despite his thin frame he had a power to him. Hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place. Your hips tried to roll against his anyway.

“Is it praise? I’ll sing your song until I’m blue in the face, until my lungs give out just tell me what you need.” You whined. 

His head shook softly, thumb pulling down on your chin to open your mouth. “It isn’t that simple. It’s not something you can say.” 

His tongue swiped over your own, neither in your mouths. He tasted like whiskey, bitter and fragrant. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling his body against yours. You were vibrating; the way you always did when he was near you.

Kissing, tongues, body presses.  You were tangled together.

“This isn't… doing anything?” You asked, his lips coming to your neck. Sighing, your hand gripped his hair weakly. “That feels good.”

He shook his head into your skin, “I don’t see any desire to carry it further. But I enjoy it for what it is. And you seem to enjoy it. Is that enough for you?”

You wanted to scream, to argue, but as he pulled away and you stared up into his sharp honey brown eyes, you felt helpless to deny him anything. Did you need sex? Really? It’d been three months now without it and you were only recently clawing at the sheets with thoughts of Alastor. Being in his mouth was better than being strangers. Sliding fingers back into his hair and drawing him closer, your leg came up and hooked on his hip.

Alastor pulled you both from the wall and turned you, pressing your body into the sink. You were staring at your reflection, Alastor’s eyes meeting yours in the mirror, “I’m happy to do many things for you… just not exactly what you’re asking for; not right now. Not in this tiny dance hall bathroom.” 

His hand snaked up your chest and lightly held your neck, you fought back a moan.

“Well, if it’s good enough for your wife….” 

He laughed into your skin, other hand slipping down the front of your dress and cupping your crotch. “I’ve heard no complaints.” The way he anchored you, arms twisted and firm around such vital parts of you, made your whole body relax into his arms. A parachute safely secured around you as you fell. Mouth to your ear, hot and warm breath, “Turn around.”

Head spinning, you turned in his arms. Alastor lifted you up and onto the countertop of the sink, lips crashing back into yours.

The sound of music shook the thin walls of the room, heart erratic in your chest. His fingers slid up both thighs slowly, a familiar feeling for you now. His hands your favorite dance partner. 

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he dropped to his knees, your legs closing in embarrassment before he slid his hands between them. 

“Did you ask for more affection, dear?” He pushed your dress up around your waist, two fingers pulling the fabric of your panties to the side. You wanted to rip them off, damning your garters. You felt feverish as you watched him bury his face into your pussy. Your wetness was evident by how easily he glided through your folds. One hand gripped the counter, the other combing through his chestnut hair. Alastor kept his eyes on you, reading your face as he moved his tongue over your heat.

Mind racing for something clever to say, you opened your mouth but just gasped out his name as he sucked gently at your clit. One of your short heeled shoes you stressed over fell off as your knees came up around his head.

You were confident you made the right answer. With the music thumping along you didn’t feel any need to keep yourself quiet.

Your breathy moans and little hip rolls into his mouth made Alastor smile against your skin. He had learned many ways to keep people satiated. 

With a struggle, you opened your legs again allowing his tongue to drop down and into you. Nose rutting against your sensitive clit with every movement of his tongue in and out. 

A pounding on the door made you jump. 

“People are waiting!” Someone yelled.

Alastor pushed his tongue deeper, wriggling up and down against your twitching walls. Your head fell forward, “Alastor-,” you choked.

He buried his nose into your muff, eyes closing.

The door knob rattled, “Hello!”

“Alastor.”

So warm. Your body was so warm on his face. Your smell was making him feel feral. Gluttony. The way you were twitching and heaving under his tongue, groaning his name. Had he ever felt so powerful while on his knees? Had he ever enjoyed someone else’s body in such a bloodless way? No. Decidedly not.

“We’re gonna get the key!” The man at the door said.

“Okay, okay, affection received.” You patted his head, pushing him away by his forehead. “Don’t need to end the night in a paddy wagon.”

Alastor’s tongue was still out, eyes glossy as he looked up at you.

For the briefest second you considered wrapping your thighs back around his head and waiting for the key.

You hopped off, grabbing your shoe and leaning to get it back on. Crouching down you kissed Alastor’s nose and wiped his chin clean with your handkerchief before pushing it into his shirt pocket. “Up, up!” Hand in hand you barreled out of the door before the staff could see you and rushed to the furthest corner of the hall.

When you stopped and looked back you saw a staff member looking around annoyed, a man putting his hands up and entering the bathroom with a huff.

Before you could say anything, compliment or scolding, a woman was in front of Alastor. Your hand slid from his naturally. 

“I am so sorry. Are you the host of that jazz show?” The woman had her hands in front of her, nervously twisting the handle of her purse, “Sorry if you’re not! You just look like the description, tall… handsome… cute glasses.”

You turned around, partly acting like you didn’t know him at all and partly hiding the way your face twisted. Unsure what exactly you two were doing, you didn’t want to create hassle for either of you.  Alastor laughed, “The very same! Alastor, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your back turned you couldn’t see the woman’s face, but she made a barely audible squeak. 

While you were eavesdropping, a man offered you his arm. Your hand slipped to Alastor’s back, giving him a touch as you slid into the strangers arms for a dance.

He turned around to see you hit the floor and smiled, returning to the fan before him. After a few more compliments about his voice and his appearance, the woman shrunk a little, “Are you free tonight? I don’t have an escort home…”

A hum, soft smile, “Ah, I would love to see a fan safely home. But, alas, I am here with someone.”

What an easy excuse. It was nice to not need to lie.

“I see…. Oh, uh, your glasses… here, they’re a little smudged,” she offered him her handkerchief but he declined, pulling yours from his pocket.

“Danced too hard?” She chuckled, trying to elongate the conversation.

Alastor hummed, fogging the glasses before wiping them clear. “Eating, actually.”

“Oh you’re a messy eater, huh?”

“So I’ve been told.” He folded the square into a triangle and returned it to his pocket.

“What a… delicate handkerchief.” She looked at the soft yellow fabric and saw your yellow dress twirling behind him. “Ah. Well….It was a pleasure to meet you.” The woman sheepishly excused herself, letting him watch you dance around the floor with the stranger.

He’d never so explicitly told anyone his proclivities as he had done with you. Growing up he learned quickly his interests misaligned with other young men, but he didn’t really understand it well enough until he entered his early 20s and had to learn skills his peers didn’t. A man can only turn down so many offers for sex before people begin to question him. Certain rumors could be downright dangerous. 

Your eyes kept returning to him, your smile meeting you eyes as you twirled. 

While he had bed a number of partners, it was more often than not the result of physical reactions and what felt like necessity. The few times he genuinely felt he could enjoy in indulging in carnal pleasures he found himself utterly alone. He enjoyed dating, necking, kissing, but he could only keep some people so happy for so long. Quite a few women assumed marriage would solve the issue, and pushed him. Which made the inevitable break up easier. 

His reputation was that of a rake now. The popular host who rarely dates but often canoodles.

He laughed to himself, if rumors spread of his recent antics with you he’d be practically blacklisted from certain clubs. Alastor watched you graciously leave your dance partner and hop up to him. If he were any other man, you’d throw your arms around him and make him swoon for you. But he was Alastor. Your confusingly respectful killer. So you stopped yourself, instead offering him a smile.

“I wasn’t aware you were a radio host.”

“You never did ask my job.” You both walked back to the table where his jacket was lying in the booth seat.

“Honestly did not care. Which is unusual for me. Normally my first question to men is what they do for work.” You tried to avoid looking at the bathroom before settling back into your seat beside him.

He lifted his hand and gestured for another round, “Should I be flattered or insulted?”

“Oh definitely flattered. There were much more interesting aspects to you.” There was a little space between you, a foot or so of emptiness. 

You scooted closer, Alastor glancing to you before shifting his legs and closing the last few inches of distance. Thigh touching thigh, you sat silently while your drinks were poured and brought to your table. 

“To sinning,” you offered a real toast, Alastor laughing his signature laugh and raising his glass.

“To sinning!”

His hand came to rest on yours, both settled on your lap under the table. Your cheeks were hurting, desperately trying to keep your smile looking demure and not stupid-school-girl-in-love. His fingers folded into yours, and you entirely lost the plot, face melting into a lovesick grin.

Alastor leaned into you, “Are you alright? Liquor already gone to your head?”

You squeezed his hand, “Different kind of intoxication, doll.”

The evening was, in a word, divine. You danced with reckless abandon and enjoyed various degrees of affection. You were surprised to see Alastor so open, you had pegged him as less wanting to draw attention to himself. But no, he clearly relished in making heads turn.

He offered you a ride, and this time you took it. You didn’t live far, you just wanted a little more time. When he stopped the car, you jokingly turned around and looked into the trunk. 

“We’re very alone.” You mused. He hummed an agreement, getting out of the car and opening your door.  “Wow and a gentleman.”

“A testament to my mother. If you’re comfortable, give me a wave from the window when you get in.” He closed your door behind you. 

“I don’t mind if you know where I live, you’ll have easier opportunities to kill me, I’m sure of it.” Placing two hands on his chest, you leaned up, “Is a good night kiss too forward?”

Alastor stifled a laugh, “Quite! My image of you is shattered.” before leaning down to meet your lips.

When in the apartment you turned on a light and went straight to the window. Leaning against his car with both hands in his pockets, Alastor was smiling up at you. With a wave from you, he got back into his car and left.

To say you were on cloud nine would be an understatement. Clouds couldn’t carry the weight of your joy. You’d fall to the ground like lead, regardless of the cloud classification. And with that feeling you went to bed smiling, unaware of the dark catalyst barreling towards you.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows

ADIF @multifandomfanatic02 ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #human alastor #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #fanfiction #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin

[onlyhuis]

for 1k.. mtl likely to completely melt when u go into subspace and say "thank you" after your orgasm? 💤

member — svt ot13 x gn reader  genre — mtl, fluff (18+) word count — 1.3k (each member has a paragraph) warnings — subspace (reader), just aftercare but there’s allusions to having sex (not explicitly described), implied that svt are dom/reader is a sub, all are gn except shua's uses “good girl” as a nickname notes — requested by @junhuisms for my 🐈 1k event — this has been in my inbox forever i'm sorry nhdnsjs. honestly i feel like all of them would melt but in slightly different ways so i did a little blurb for each. i hope you enjoy! <3

most

1 - seungcheol

this man is the biggest simp on the entire planet and he would be so so good at taking care of you. i think it’s about 50/50 the amount of time he spends as a hard dom and a soft dom, but regardless of what activities you get up to he is the best at making sure you always feel good. he would melt the hardest on the nights he’s been a little meaner and a little rougher, because how can you be so sexy and so adorable at the same time, especially after you just came four times from his mouth alone? it boosts his ego so much not only that you trust him with all of yourself, but that you love him enough to say thank you afterwards? his day is made. his week is made. his whole year is made.

2 - seungkwan

he is absolutely obsessed with you. his reactions are always big whenever he's around you because he's so in love with you; you could be doing the most mundane thing in the world and he'd react like you just saved a burning building full of orphans and solved world hunger. he’ll melt over literally anything you do, but especially when you get that dopey smile on your face after you cum because your pleasure is his pleasure so your reactions only make him melt even more. he gets so caught up in how cute you are, he’d probably end up falling asleep with you tucked in his arms and forget to clean up.

3 - joshua

he thinks you’re just so adorable. most of the time he enjoys a little pushback when he’s fucking you; being a brat tamer is what gets him off, so he’s always making you beg him to let you cum. but he can never tease you for very long, especially on the times when you decide to be well behaved, so of course he has to reward you for being such a good girl for him. he lives on giving and receiving praise so he’d be thanking you too for letting him take care of you like this.

4 - mingyu

he completely melts. literally reduced to a puddle on the floor or the bed. he would get the biggest puppy eyes and be so pouty because he’s so whipped and he believes you shouldn’t ever have to do any work. he’s the one who needs to be thanking you, actually, because he's so honored that someone as beautiful and perfect as you decided to choose him of all people. he will give you anything and everything you could ever need because he doesn't want you to have a single care in the world, especially when you're being so sweet clinging to his arms. he may not be perfect but he's going to try his damn hardest to make sure he truly earns your thankfulness.

5 - jun

he’d start smiling and giggling, and he wouldn’t stop until you came back out of subspace. he would also get super clingy and hold you close to his chest and stroke your hair and grin uncontrollably. he’d give you the sweetest “you’re welcome” you’ve ever heard and just keep praising you for being so darn cute. he is the snuggliest boy and his aftercare would be the softest and best part of the whole experience.

6 - hoshi

everything about him is intense, especially when you’re in subspace. he fucks you hard and loves you even harder, so when you thank him after your orgasm it would make him so happy and he’d love you even more than before (if that’s even possible). he thinks your reactions are the cutest thing in the world and once you come out of that headspace he’d be begging for another round just so he can see you like that again.

7 - jeonghan

he’d mostly be cocky and proud of himself for making you feel so good, but deep down he'd be so giddy about your reaction. he doesn’t always explicitly say it or show it, but you’re so precious to him and all he really wants is for you to be satisfied and happy. he would absolutely tease you later about thanking him, but inside he’d be blushing and hoping it’s something that’ll become a habit of yours. he’s a fiend for praise and would want to get you there all the time.

8 - seokmin

he has hearts and stars in his eyes for you on a normal day, so it’d only increase when you’re in subspace. he’d get all blushy and embarrassed and tell you not to worry about it because it’s his job to make you feel good, so there’s no need to thank him. he’d wrap you up in blankets if you’re too cold and he’d put a cool washcloth on your forehead if you’re too hot and he’d coo over you with the purest little smile on his face.

9 - minghao

he gets so soft and he would be so gentle with you. even if he'd been a hard dom earlier, he'll flip on a dime as soon as he notices you in subspace. the responsible dom in him comes out and he tries not to dwell on how cute you look because instead he's busy making sure you’re feeling comfortable and safe and loved, bringing you water and helping you calm down. he’d melt at your reaction, but in more of a protective way because he’s not gonna let anything happen to his baby. 

10 - wonwoo

he wouldn’t not be into it exactly, but he wouldn’t have as much of a big reaction as the other members. he’d mostly be proud of himself for being able to satisfy you so well, and he’d be ready to give you whatever else you asked for or what you needed. he knows what his job is and he does it well. he smiles when he thinks you're not looking or when you aren't paying attention and the sight of you makes him feel warm inside.

11 - woozi

he wouldn't melt so much as he would just be fond of you. he’d smile at you, let you rest on his lap and play with your hair until you come back to him. he's usually quiet, not making a lot of noise unless you ask him to, but when you tell him “thank you” he'll hum and blush a little to let you know he's listening and that he appreciates you.

12 - chan

he would love it when you go into your subspace, but at the same time i think he would get a little panicky. it’s a lot of responsibility to take care of you when you’re so vulnerable, and he would be so focused on that that he’d forget to think about his own feelings. he would still adore you and how cute you are, but it would be more at the back of his mind.

13 - vernon

quite honestly i don't think he'd even notice when you're in subspace. looking back later he might realize you were suddenly acting a little calmer and a little clingier, but he wouldn't treat you any differently than he normally does. he loves you and thinks you're cute all the time, why would he be any different now? he's just happy to be along for the ride, but he won't deny it feels good to be thanked, even if he thinks he hasn't really done much.

least

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 8)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

The illness persists in the weight of your skin over your bones yet the loss of actual muscle and fat that turn you skeletal. Your legs become bow-like and pain radiates just above your hairline. Your vision crackles with scattered flashes of black dots, and you drink like a man lost in the desert. 

Only foods that are red stay down, and even then you only nibble at peppers and plug your nose at the raw meat you stuff in your mouth. You feel the sunlight outside your window when you open it up and stick your hand through, as walking out of your apartment is a chore you can only handle once a week at most. 

Once a homebody, reclusive out of necessity and exhaustion from simple interactions, you now live for Lucifer’s chatter. His presence abates your fever, physically and emotionally. The dependence on him, as sweet as he appears, makes you itch inside. 

Everything is terrible, you tell yourself at least once per day, as the illness persists. 

But if Lucifer is good at anything, it’s providing you with distractions from the ever-present suffering.

—

The sounds you made put the Angelic Choir to shame. 

“Lucifer, don’t say that!”

The King of Hell’s laugh was muffled as he stayed buried in your cunt. The memory of you being so flustered was almost just as sweet. 

He eyed your tightly screwed expression just over your growing belly, and felt gratified at his idea to have you propped up by pillows from head to hips. With the boost, Lucifer could watch you enjoy yourself and remain comfortable. 

Let him feel the springs of your mattress dig into his knees and stomach. They were secondary to the pain of his own hardness straining in his slacks. 

A keen from you, and the feeling of your nails as they raked through his hair and over his scalp, had Lucifer moaning. His eyes rolled back, momentarily blinded by euphoria. 

“Ooh!” 

Eyes snapping open, Lucifer lifted himself from the bed quickly. His tongue slipped out of you, dripping onto the sheets when he was mindless to reeling it back in.

“Why’d you stop?” Your whine between quick pants made him blink.

One eye at a time. 

“I thought I hurt you.” He smiled, sheepishly, once his tongue was back in his mouth. 

His mauve-lids and golden lashes fluttered when you wiped the slick from his chin. There was no missing the color that had returned to your cheeks with all the exertion he was putting you through, and he felt a swell of pride at being able to breathe life back into you. So to speak. 

“Heaven help me.” You said, sarcastically. 

Breathlessly.

The Devil’s hips jerked when your hand rose to grip a fistful of his blond hair. You manually lowered him back between your legs, heedless to the way his entire frame shivered.

— 

‘I think I… I think I’m in love with her.’ Lucifer looked so earnest, meeting the glow of Ozzie’s stare. 

The Sin clucked a tongue in his King’s direction, shaking his head. ‘Well, don’t tell her that. You’re gonna scare her away, man.’ 

—

Lucifer watched you fall apart from just his tongue (its length and width being inhuman notwithstanding). 

You were so beautiful like this. Legs shaking, body spasming, letting go.

‘I love you.’ 

Man’s (alleged) Greatest Enemy could just barely contain himself. 

‘I love you I love you I love you’ 

—

Lucifer brings you another scroll one sunny day, and you find it riddled with names. 

“I’ve been thinking about what to call him or her, so I made a list! …Kinda, sorta during a meeting… whatever, it wasn’t that important!” 

Oh, you could see that. 

“Do you like any of them? Which are your favorites? No! Gimme your top 5!” His jubilation is so innocent, but something inside you hitches. 

“Does it actually matter what I think?” You chuckled. 

“Of course it does!” He cried. “You’re the mo— uh… you’re putting in most of the work!”

The weak save went unchallenged. You were already circling names, likening the process to navigating a minefield as you looked through a long line of names you couldn’t even pronounce or read. 

‘Ehb 

Horus

Azor 

Carlton’

“What about a girl?” Lucifer asked out of the blue. 

Your head cocked to the side as you realized your picks had been relegated to just one side of the endless list. That he’d written down names for boys and for girls struck you as odd. 

 “You think it’ll be a girl?” 

Lucifer looked at you with a curious gaze. “Could be, couldn’t it?”

After a moment, you shrugged. “I guess so…” 

The King’s confusion crinkled around his eyes and caused an uncanny few lines in his otherwise perfect forehead. You flick the pen at him teasingly to wipe the look from his face.

You write a few names down, and watch with a smirk as his frown turns upside down. 

‘Adrienne 

Charlotte

Maleficent’

You ignored the painful thought that this was a pointless endeavor. Naming a dead thing.

—

With eyebrows raised, you sat waiting dutifully, hands clasped over your stomach while he rummaged through the box. 

“Aha!” He pulled out two red objects, one in each hand, and knee’d the chest out of the way to present them to you.

“Surprise!”

Two remarkably crafted stuffed animals were set before you on the couch cushion. 

Goats. 

It took you a second to place them, staring at their intricate appearances — covered in fluffy red fur from head to cloven hoof, with large yellow eyes and tiny red smiles stitched on their stark white muzzles. 

Shiny, metallic-looking horns curled over the curvature of their little heads, tips almost touching the tiny approximations of wings protruding from their backs. You noticed that the little wings were also sticking out of the backs of their tiny tuxedo suits; solid black to further contrast their Luciferean color schemes. 

An uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal escaped you. 

Damn these hormones. You internally chastised yourself while reaching out to finger at the detailed plushies. 

“They’re so cute!” You admired the unbelievable softness of one’s fur, hand overlapping with Lucifer’s as you turned it this way and that. His grin was so wide in your peripheral vision as he soaked up your fawning.

“Aren’t they?!” Lucifer squealed along with you. “They’re twins! But see this one has lighter fur and this one has sharper eyes. I tried to give them little differences so they had some individuality.” 

“Michael and I looked so similar in the Beginning, a ton of people always got us mixed up. Sometimes it was fun, but I got tired of hearing him bitch about it after the first couple centuries.”

A more serene countenance overtook your counterpart, with his line of sight drifting off to the floor beside you. Lost in thought. Or perhaps reminiscing. 

“Michael?” You asked gently. 

“My brother.” Lucifer replied. 

“Ohh, I think I remember… is he a Prince of Hell too?” 

The formerly Divine man frowned. “… No. Not him.”

A shadow fell over you both, distant sadness suffusing the air. You reached for him instantly, only for Lucifer to switch on like a lightbulb and grin manically. 

“Oh well! Who knows, maybe he took Dad’s side just to make sure no one ever confused us for each other ever again!” 

You pulled away. “… right.” 

Lucifer shook his head after a glance in your direction. 

“Um, so, I was thinking…” He began. “Maybe we give one to the baby an-nd… one could stay here… with you…” 

There was no hiding the confusion that crossed your face. 

You ‘tsk’ed. “You wanna deny the baby half this cuteness?” 

In response, Lucifer tittered, still adamant on looking around the room instead of meeting your gaze head on. “Hah, no. I was thinking that, maybe, we could keep one of them here and… and then they could reunite every time the baby and I… or just the baby… visit…”

Slow realization made your already weak constitution roil. 

Perhaps, if you’d been yourself and not the hollow shell of a person you’d become while pregnant, you would’ve been angry. Or upset enough to shout. Maybe you would’ve gotten up and left him there on his lonesome, wordlessly demanding he not entertain that idea ever again. 

Certainly, the You from before this insane, impossible scenario wouldn’t hesitate to react melodramatically. 

You sighed, fiddling with one of the goat’s tails. “Oh Lou…” 

He cringed beneath the weight of your words, laden with a heaviness that harshened his already guilty conscience. 

“Wait, before you say no —” Lucifer felt his mouth running away from him. “Maybe you could think about it and then decide? Maybe after they’re born?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you.” 

“You’re expecting me to be its mother.” Your tone broke no room for argument. 

Mauve eyelids drooped as Lucifer looked down in shame. “I — ”

“I wouldn’t make a good mom.” Your statement stopped him in his tracks. 

Frustration simmered in Lucifer, slowly creeping into his expression as you continued, unrelenting. His posture went rigid, hands beginning to clench at his sides.

“It’s not that I don’t care. I probably care too much, actually.” You admitted.

It was true. Regardless of your paranoia and how justified it was or not, the sole basis for why you felt the need to argue in the first place —

(And wasn’t that just pathetic? You had feelings for the Epitome of Evil and had entertained being safe and happy with him) 

— the reality was that you’d been a broken human being before this cosmic impossibility entered your life. 

“I just don’t…” You sighed. “I wouldn’t be a good part of their life if I was in it.” 

Your head whipped up, vision spotting when Lucifer blurted:

“You are the best part of my life.” 

He looked angry. Furious. So much so that the sclera around his irises began to radiate a blood-red. 

“Do you know how hard it is? To leave you? I have to convince myself every single time that you’ll still be here when I return!” Lucifer claimed. “And soon I won’t even be able to do that!” 

“I don’t want to say goodbye forever! I… I l…” 

You shuddered, stiffening in your seat. As soon as he realized, Lucifer’s display was cowed. 

“Fuck, are you alright? I’m not — I don’t know what came over me!”

You shook your head. “No.” 

“It stopped.” You whispered. 

Lucifer’s grip trembled around your wrists. “Stopped?”

His breathless echo of your words drew your eyes up. You saw the storm brewing in his ruby eyes, as even though he waited for you to elaborate, a million thoughts pelting at his brain like hail. 

“The pain stopped.” You said. 

Your hands felt over the bump beneath your breasts, as if you might find the imaginary ‘off’ button and turn it back on.

It was ludicrous to think about, but you immediately wished for the agony that had been crippling you to return if it meant that this baby wasn’t… wasn’t… 

Tears glistened in your eyes. Lucifer drew you to his chest in spite of the fear that was pulling his shoulders taut. 

“Wh-what did you do today? Anything different?” The ex-Angel asked shakily. 

His eyes scanned you up and down, lingering on the little dolls he’d just gifted you. 

“No… n-no, nothing different.” You said. “I was in bed all morning, and th… then Cass was here and we had tea… we went out and walked a little bit outside.” 

“Did you fall?” The King hedged. 

You gasped, eyes widening. Instinctively your arms wrapped around your middle at the foreign feeling emanating from within. 

“Did…! You fell??” He panicked, grabbing onto you like a life raft. “Where? On what?!”

His words drifted away as you were enveloped in the strangest surge of feeling you’d ever experienced. 

You could only just muster up the energy to shake your head. 

Sudden warmth. 

And pressure. 

A tiny flutter, one you’d never felt before. 

You inhaled quickly yet deeply at the feeling of something pressing against your belly-button from the inside. 

It made you grin, hands coming back to grab for Lucifer’s own and to pull them to your stomach. “They’re alive!” 

The man’s jaw went slack, staring sightlessly for just as long as it took to soak up the sudden heat there. The baby took pity on its poor, trembling father and kicked again. 

It was Lucifer’s turn to gasp, looking back and forth between you and the bump with dawning awe. 

“It is!” He laughed, a tad bit hysterically. “It — they are alive!” 

“… And… glowing…”

“You’re glowing!”

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Summary: A trip to the thrift store becomes overwhelming for Harris, and you and Eddie have to work as a team. But the real test of your relationship's strength is the crisis that unfolds days later.

Warnings: financial insecurity, school lock-in, missing child, police presence, mention of kidnapping, mention of drug addiction, blood (no gore)

WC: 8.5k

Chapter 19/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie has already been awake for two hours when the phone rings. One part of parenthood that he hadn’t anticipated is that children do not understand the concept of weekends. Harris had flung himself out of his racecar bed promptly at 6:30 in the morning, crawling under Eddie’s sheets and poking his nose until he woke up.

“Har, go back to sleep,” Eddie had grumbled, the last word extended in a whine. One cheek was smushed against his pillow, muffling his complaint. “It’s Saturday; you don’t have school.”

In response, Harris pursed his lips into a perfect pout and used his thumb to peel Eddie’s eyelid open, getting as close to his face as possible. His morning breath was tinged with the scent of chocolate; Eddie groggily made a mental note to better supervise his nighttime teeth brushing routine. 

“‘M hungry.”

That’s how Eddie finds himself pouring his third cup of coffee while his son keeps his eyes glued to the TV screen, watching Doug stutter and stammer in front of Patti. Eddie smiles, a blush creeping into his cheeks when he realizes that that’s probably what he looks like around you.

“‘Lo?” He cradles the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, wincing as he clumsily clinks the carafe into place. There isn’t enough coffee left to slosh over the side, a small miracle in and of itself, although he’ll have to brew some more if the caffeine doesn’t kick in soon.

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is sleepy yet sweet, smoothing all the creases of the morning. “Did I wake you up?”

Eddie laughs and takes a sip from his favorite mug, the one that proudly declares #1 Dad. It’s stained and chipped, but he’ll never throw it out. Wayne had bought it for him on his very first Father’s Day; ironically, Eddie had bought him a #1 Grandpa mug that year, probably from the same kiosk at the mall.

“Not even close,” he says, tongue flicking to the corner of his lip to catch the drip of coffee that’s pooled in the crevice. “Someone was up bright and early this morning.” His gaze flits over to the bowl of Cheerios snug between Harris’s criss-crossed legs, mostly uneaten despite his earlier protests that would make an outsider believe he was starving. “How was your sleep?” he asks, swinging back to your conversation.

You switch the phone from one ear to the other. “It was good. Would’ve been better if you were next to me, though,” you add, twirling the cord around your forefinger. If you could, you would capture the safety of his embrace and bottle it, releasing a bit each time you craved his gentle touch. “I might’ve even let you be the little spoon.”

He balks at this with a playful scoff, nearly spilling his coffee with the sudden movement. “Yeah, right,” he chuckles, licking the side of the mug before the bitter liquid can slide off and hit the ground. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Admittedly, his skepticism is rooted in truth; whenever you do get the chance to cuddle in bed, he’s always the one wrapping his arm around your waist, often taking the opportunity to snake a hand up your shirt and let the pads of his fingers brush over your breasts. It isn’t always a display of sexuality or desire–though you can’t say you mind that–but a connection, a way of ensuring that you stay close. 

“Just a few more weeks until we get to find out for ourselves,” you tease, though he needs no reminding. Only sixteen days remain until you officially move in together, and he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s counting down. “Speaking of which,” you continue, glancing at the clock, “I was wondering if you and Harris wanted to do some furniture shopping for his new room.” You knew that he would be keeping his racecar bed; it’s unlikely he’ll part with it until he’s outgrown it completely. “Y’know, a new dresser or nightstand or something.”

There’s an extended pause on Eddie’s side of the line. You think the call dropped and are about to hang up and redial when you hear him say,  “I, um…I don’t get paid until next week…” He nervously scratches the countertop with one fingernail. 

“Oh.” You grapple with a response, trying to strike a balance of empathy without condescension. “Well, I was going to surprise you, but I sold some of Grandma’s old—”

“No way,” Eddie interjects, firmly but not harshly. “I’m not having you spend your money on me. We can just wait until payday.”

“I want to buy this for Harris. I…I probably should have cleared out Grandma’s room months ago, but I couldn’t. I mean, I could, but it felt wrong because I had nothing to put in its place.” You don’t care that you’re babbling on, forging ahead with your impromptu monologue. “It would’ve been too empty, but with you and Harris here, it won’t be empty anymore.”

Eddie tucks his thumbnail between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he prods, not wanting to sound ungrateful. 

“Positive.” You’re much more assured in your reply. “If she knew Harris before she got sick, she would’ve spoiled the hell out of him, anyway.” The moment she saw him happily digging into the Oreos, she would have ensured that the cupboard remained stocked with Double Stuf. “In a way, s’like she gets to spoil him now.”

You can sense Eddie’s resistance tempering with an audible exhale. “He’s an easy kid to love, that’s for sure,” he muses, buying time to process the influx of emotions flooding his body. There’s the obvious gratitude that you’re so eager to take care of his son, but it’s cut with the insecurity of him not being able to do so. If you’re going to buy Harris furniture, it should be because you want to, not because he can’t. What if you hold this against him? What if, in the future, there’s an argument and you fire back with a retort about his shortcomings as a father?

Except…you have never done that. Ever. Not that night in the emergency room, or when you’d found out about the CPS report filed that evening. Not even when Eddie had made it his personal mission to tear you down, pulling insults from the depths and hurling them at you with reckless abandon. 

You hadn’t brought up the way he’d helplessly panicked when confronted with the possibility of Harris’s learning disability, or how he’d let anxiety overtake him when he officially received a classification. With everything the two of you had endured, you’d never once echoed his anxieties about his parenting abilities; it was quite the opposite. With you by his side, he feels as though he can take on whatever challenge life chucks at him. 

“Eds? Is everything okay?” Your tone is thick with concern; Eddie realizes that you probably think you’ve upset him. “We don’t have to go—we can do something else, or—”

“Sweet girl,” he says in one exhale, both to reassure you and to remind himself that you’re his, and he’s yours. Love surges through the phone lines when he speaks. “We can pick you up in an hour, if that works? I should be able to wrangle Harris by then.”

“Y’sure?” And, Christ, how his heart sinks when you shrink inward, reflexively making yourself smaller when you’re worried that you’ve offended someone.

Eddie doesn’t answer you directly, instead, calls out his son’s name. “Hey, Harris?” He frowns when Harris completely ignores him in favor of watching the cartoon. Using his free hand, he cups his mouth in a makeshift megaphone, amplifying his voice. “Harris Wayne Munson!”

The sudden sound jolts him out of his TV-induced stupor. “Huh?” 

“Go get dressed and brush your teeth; we’re gonna go shopping with Ms. Sweetheart!” Eddie grins as Harris turns to him with a wide smile of his own. “C’mon, let’s go!” 

Harris jumps up without further hesitation, inadvertently tossing his bowl from the makeshift table of his legs. Milk splatters, instantly soaking into the carpet, and the Cheerios topple out and land in a soggy pile. “Nooo, my bref-ist!” His big eyes well up with tears. “Daddy, you made me drop my bref-ist!”

“You, uh, wanna deal with that?” You can’t hide your amusement at the usual Munson chaos. 

“Probably should, huh?” Eddie jokes back, stretching the phone cord as far as he can and reaching for the paper towel roll. “I love you, babe. See you in a bit.”

“I love you, Eds,” you tell him. “And Harris, too, of course.”

Some more static and shuffling; then, an energetic voice greets you. “Hi Ms. Sweetheart! Daddy made me drop my bref-ist,” the little boy reports. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Har.” You’ve perfected the art of mustering up sympathy for children’s not-soearth-shattering issues, a skill that every preschool teacher must possess. “Why don’t you help him clean up? That way, I can see you even faster.”

Harris pauses, mulling over his options. “Yeah, okay! Gotta go! Bye!”

You hear the clunk of him struggling to replace the phone on the hook, followed by Eddie saying, “Let me say good-bye before you hang—” click. 

Pulling your own receiver from your ear, you stare at it with mild amusement. Never a dull moment with my boys. 

Your boys drive up to your building just over an hour later. You stand up from the bench outside the entrance and smooth down your shorts where they’ve creased. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Eddie lets the pet name roll off of his tongue. He wants to kiss you as you slide into the passenger seat, but he withholds his affection for Harris’s sake. It seems silly, considering you’ll all be living together, but he doesn’t know how his son will react to the romance aspect of it. Will he be happy? Excited? Disgusted by any display of affection?

You give his hand a subtle squeeze, turning around to greet Harris. “Ready to shop till we drop?”

“Till we drop?” Harris wrinkles his nose, glancing between you and his dad. “Why would we drop?”

“It’s just an expression,” you explain, catching a glimpse of the smile tugging at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. “Just means that we’re going to shop until we’re too tired to shop anymore.”

“I never get tired,” Harris declares, sticking his legs straight out so his flexed feet push up against the back of the driver’s seat, nudging Eddie slightly forward. “Grampa Wayne calls me an ‘Energizer Bunny.’” He bounces up and down in his booster seat to prove his point.

Eddie reaches his right arm around, keeping his left firmly gripping the wheel, as he moves Harris’s feet from where they’re planted into his lower back. “So, Har,” he starts, easing his weight onto the brake as he approaches a red light, “we’re gonna look for a new dresser for you, and maybe a nightstand.” He takes a deep breath as he delivers the news: “That means we’re not making any pit stops for toys. Got it?”

You want to interject, to let Eddie know that you don’t mind splurging on a small treat for Harris, but you bite it back. Whether or not you have the spare funds is irrelevant: this is the boundary he’s set for his son, and you have to respect it, regardless of your desire to spoil him.

Harris, however, does not accept the announcement as readily. “Not even, like, a little one?” he presses, holding his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “Even if I’m really, really good?” He gives a hopeful smile, eyes blinking expectantly.

Eddie looks at you, serving as your cue to provide your input. You nod your approval, trying to hide your delight in being asked to make a parenting decision, regardless of how menial it may seem. He peers up through the rearview mirror at his son’s waiting face. “If you’re really, really good,” he acquiesces, features pinching into a grimace when Harris’s exuberant squeal echoes through the sedan. “You have to use your inside voice and stay next to us the whole time. Deal?”

“Deal,” Harris confirms. “Deal, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Deal.” Laughter bubbles up inside you and you let it spill out uninhibited. You know that telling a child he can get a toy is an easy part of parenthood, but you silently swear to never take for granted being included in that choice. Harris joins you, though he’s not quite sure why he’s laughing, but your joy is contagious. 

You lean your head against the car window, listening to the buzz of the radio filling the silence. Harris hums along, more on-key than the average five-year-old, which you can safely attribute to him having a musician for a dad.

“I’m not getting a new bed, right?” Harris says with sudden urgency. “Because I wanna keep my racecar bed.”

“Mhm,” you affirm, smiling when Harris relaxes back against the headrest. “Your racecar bed will be in your new room, don’t you worry.”

“Okay.” That response satisfies him until he thinks up another question. “An’ you’re bringing your bed, Daddy?”

Eddie chuckles as he pulls into the Goodwill parking lot. He picks a spot close to the store, right next to a green Ford with a faded “Clinton ‘96” bumper sticker. “Um, no. I’m not bringing my bed.” 

“So are you getting a new bed?” His eyes dart from side to side as he assesses the size of the car. “Where’s it gonna fit?”

“I’m, uh, not buying a new bed, either.” Eddie kills the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, swiveling to face Harris, who is more confused than ever. “Ms. Sweetheart and I are going to share her bed.”

Harris kicks his feet, processing this new information. “But you didn’t get married yet,” he points out, “so how can you share a bed?”

You rest your palm on Eddie’s forearm in quiet reassurance. “Some people share a bed before they get married,” you explain simply, knowing that less is often more when talking to young children.

“When are you gonna get married?” he asks, more curious than meddling. “Because it’s taking forever. My friends’ mommies and daddies are already married.”

Eddie doesn’t acknowledge the fact that Harris essentially referred to you as his mommy; instead, he slowly exhales. “I’d like to marry Ms. Sweetheart someday, and I think she’d like to marry me, too.” He looks over at you with a sheepish grin, and you give his hand an agreeing squeeze. “But, for now, we’re just going to try out living together. How does that sound?”

“I guess that’s okay.” Harris isn’t completely thrilled with his dad’s response, but he relents anyway.

“While, we’re, uh, on the subject,” Eddie continues, the tips of his ears flushing pink as he carefully considers his words. He chews on the inside of his lower lip. Is he really doing this? Is he opening his son up to this relationship? “You know that Ms. Sweetheart and I love each other very much, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Sometimes,” Eddie continues with only some trepidation, “sometimes, when grown-ups love each other a lot, they hold hands o-or kiss. Would that be weird for you? If Ms. Sweetheart and I held hands, or kissed?”

You avert your gaze, partly from bashfulness but mostly so Harris doesn’t feel any pressure from either of you. 

The little boy looks at the car’s ceiling, centering his focus on the overhead lighting. Finally, with utmost certainty, he declares, “just no tongue-kissing.”

You snort out a laugh while Eddie goes bright red and sputters, “where did you learn about that?”

“Young and Restless,” Harris reports nonchalantly. 

Eddie rubs his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his lids until his vision blurs. “Remind me to tell Wayne to stop letting him watch the soaps,” he grumbles to you, turning back to his son. “Yeah, no tongue-kissing.”

You easily lace your fingers with Eddie’s as you walk through the front doors of the Goodwill. Harris starts making a beeline for the toys, but Eddie uses his free hand to pivot him in the direction of the furniture department. Harris huffs but complies, trudging alongside you. 

There’s a bright blue nightstand on display that immediately catches his eye. “Look!” he points, smiling so wide that all of his baby teeth are on display, “can I get it? Please?”

Eddie smiles warily, flipping over the white tag hanging from one silver drawer handle. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he sees the price is within the range of what he’d like to spend; rather, what he’d be comfortable asking you to spend. 

“Looks like we’ve got a winner,” he says, posture straightening with the announcement. He runs his fingertips over the surface, checking for any chipping paint or splintering wood, but the finish appears to be intact. “I’ll go tell someone to set it aside for us.”

He sets off in search of an employee, leaving you alone with Harris. You swallow the nervousness building in your throat. You spend nearly every day taking care of children, but you’re suddenly inundated with the memory of losing him at the flea market. Those few minutes when you couldn’t locate him were some of the scariest of your life. 

And yet, it hadn’t prevented Eddie from giving you another chance.

“Are you excited to move in with me, Har?” you ask, reaching out to ruffle his curls.

He nods, then looks straight up at you so that you’re staring at his nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart?” The position of his neck changes his voice’s pitch so it’s froggy. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Can you marry my daddy?” His eyes shine with potential. “And then you can be my mommy for real?”

You crouch down to his height, heart melting at his request. “Harris, I love your daddy very, very much. And I love you very, very much, too.” You poke his nose gently, and he giggles. “Being married is a big responsibility—”

“‘Sponsibility?”

“Mhm. Responsibility. It means a really important job.” You slide your heart pendant across the chain on your neck anxiously. “And your daddy and I want to make sure that we’re ready for that kind of responsibility before we do anything, okay?”

Harris nods, but you can tell from his crinkled nose and furrowed brows that he doesn’t fully understand. You can’t blame him; it’s an abstract concept, one that even you often have trouble comprehending. “But I can tell you one thing: whenever your daddy wants to propose, I’ll say ‘yes.’” You smile at the thought of Eddie asking you to be his wife. 

“Is that where he gets down on one knee and asks ‘Will you marry me?’” You’re about to respond when he adds, “and then someone runs in and yells about being their long-lost ‘dentical twin?”

Yeah, no more soap operas for Harris. 

Finding a dresser proves to be a much more difficult task than picking out the nightstand. Everything that Harris likes is out of budget, and everything within budget is too worn down or small. There’s one that’s in good condition and isn’t too pricey, but it’s covered in hand-painted unicorns. 

“That’s for girls!” Harris groans, stomping his feet. The last word is stretched in a whine. “I can’t have girl stuff!”

“We can paint over it. Whatever color you want,” you quickly jump in, trying to avoid a meltdown, but your efforts are fruitless. Fat tears stream down his cheeks; he’s already determined that the dresser is tainted. 

“No! No, no, no!” he howls, throwing himself on the floor. He smacks down on his tailbone, fanning his tantrum’s flames. He quiets for a moment, too shocked to cry, but then he’s screaming louder than before. 

It’s as though he’s lost control of his body, arms and legs knocking into the lower shelves without care. You can’t block him in time before he knocks over a lamp—a Nickelodeon-themed one that would have been perfect in his new room, ironically—and it shatters on the ground. Ceramic splinters, scattering across the linoleum like roaches in the light. 

People start to stare, some with sympathetic looks, and some glare angrily at the child daring to interrupt their shopping. Eddie’s face blazes, vision swimming as he wracks his brain for a solution. 

You’re faster, slapping a few bills into Eddie’s palm and jolting him from his thoughts. He watches you scoop Harris off of the floor, trying to avoid his flailing limbs. 

“Go get the nightstand and pay for the lamp,” you tell him, straightforward and precise. “I’ll get him to the car and calm him down. Keys?”

Eddie blinks, the information swirling around him but not quite penetrating the surface. It’s when you hoist Harris onto one hip and balance his weight in one hand, using the other to make a ‘gimme’ motion that it registers. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry.” Eddie fumbles for the car keys and tosses them to you, the two of you working in tandem. A well-oiled machine. You nod gratefully, wincing as Harris’s foot makes contact with your thigh. “I’ll be right out.”

You’re able to bring him to the car, struggling to unlock it and hold on to Harris. After a few failed attempts, you manage to open the passenger door and sit him on the seat. 

“Harris, hey, Harris?” you start, keeping your voice soft and even while trying to pull his attention. His sobs are slowing down but he’s definitely breathing too rapidly for your comfort. “Hey, bud. You’re okay, all right?” You extend your hand and he tentatively places his own palm on top of it. “You wanna give my hand a squeeze?”

He does it, the motion grounding him enough that he can focus on your body in front of him. You don’t want to touch him, knowing that his senses are already overstimulated from the tantrum. Instead, you relax as his squeezing grows stronger and his breaths gradually even out. 

“There ya go, Har. Just like that.” You smile warmly. “That was a really big feeling, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” His voice shakes and hiccups. He swipes at the tears on his cheeks, smudging them into his skin. 

You reach into the center console and grab a tissue, wiping the mucus from his nose and lips. “Good as new.” With no trashcan nearby, you shove the used Kleenex into your pants pocket. “Can you tell me what made you so mad in there?”

“D-Don’t want girl…girl st-stuff,” he stutters through ragged breaths. 

There’s a time and place to discuss the optics of categorizing interests into ‘boy’ and ‘girl,’ but you know better than to have that conversation now. “Oof, that’s why you were angry! That’s a lot to handle.” You gingerly tuck a curl behind his ear. “But, Harris, did you see what happened when you started hitting and kicking?” He shakes his head. “Well, you knocked over a lamp and it broke. You could have gotten hurt, or someone else could have gotten hurt.” 

Harris’s face falls as you speak, absorbing what you’re explaining. “I-I didn’t mean to,” he sniffles. “‘M sorry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you sigh, “sometimes, when we have big feelings like getting angry, we do things we shouldn’t without even realizing.” You pause for a moment, biting your lip as you consider your words. “Do you want to hear what helps me when I have really big feelings and I can’t scream and cry?”

“Mhm.” He nods again, little tongue peeking out to swipe up the tears above his mouth. 

“I take a deep breath and close my eyes,” you start, demonstrating both actions. Inhale for three, exhale for three, and repeat. “And then I picture myself being in my favorite place in the world.” You smile at him, blinking back the sadness that comes with memories of holidays at Grandma’s. “Wanna try it together?”

Harris responds by closing his eyes and breathing in slowly. “Good job, Har,” you softly praise him. “Now breathe out; make sure you’re thinking of your favorite place, okay?”

“Thinkin’ about the zoo,” he whispers, voice raspy from shrieking for so long. “Daddy taked me there and we saw so much animals.”

“Zoos are a lot of fun,” you agree with a laugh. “I’ve never been to the one in Hawkins. Maybe we can go over the summer?”

“Yeah! I wanna show you the flamingos!” His grin stretches across his cheeks “Do you like flamingos?”

Like most people, you don’t have a strong opinion on flamingos, but you respond with an enthusiastic, “I love them!”

“Love who?” Eddie’s voice breaks into the conversation. He’s rolling out the nightstand in a cart, keeping one hand on top of it to hold it steady. “Me?”

You laugh, opening up the back door so he can wedge the furniture next to Harris’s booster seat. “Yes, Eddie. I love you very much, don’t worry,” you tease, seizing the opportunity to inconspicuously check him out. His biceps flex as he maneuvers the nightstand, and you have to tear your gaze from his denim-clad ass when he stands up and triumphantly wipes his hands on his pants. 

“C’mere.” He pulls you in, pursing his lips in an exaggerated pout and planting a smacking kiss on you. 

While you giggle, Harris is not as amused. He claps his hands over his eyes and groans. 

“No tongue-kissing!”

You’re wrapping up storytime, your students fidgeting with their shoelaces—some fidgeting with their friend’s shoelaces—eager to move onto the corresponding art activity Will has planned. 

“Okay, we’re going to use our walking—” Your announcement is cut short by Principal Sinclair’s voice coming over the loudspeaker. Her tone is typically warm and excited, but the way she speaks so sternly sends chills through your entire body. 

“This is a lock-in. All staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified. I repeat, all staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified.”

You breathe out, though you’re still concerned about the cause of the lock-in. It’s usually some kind of medical issue that requires emergency services to have unblocked access through the halls. You hope that whatever it is isn’t life-threatening. 

Will locks the door wordlessly, and you repeat your directions to the class. The kids walk to their seats, asking non-stop about what a lock-in means. 

“We just have to stay in the classroom,” you find yourself repeating, losing patience with each iteration. You’re thankful for small miracles; your class has already gone out for recess, which means you don’t have to break that news to them. 

Will is helping the kids glue multicolored strands of crepe paper in the shape of a rainbow, complete with cotton ball clouds. You’re unclogging a bottle of Elmer’s when the classroom phone rings, startling you. You place the glue bottle on the table, promising Joshua that you’ll be right back, and answer it. 

“Hello?”

“We need you to come to the office immediately,” the secretary’s clipped voice informs you. “Bring your personal items. We’ll send someone to assist Will.”

Stupidly, you nod before remembering she can’t see you. “Y-Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.” You hang up, tell Will the plan, and bolt out the door. 

What the hell is going on? Why are they having me break the lock-in to go to the office? You hike your purse higher up your shoulder, trying to ignore the dread pooling in your stomach and creeping up your throat. 

Something is wrong. Something is really, really wrong. 

Your feet can’t carry you fast enough. You nearly stop breathing when you see Eddie pacing in the lobby, Marion and Paula standing off to the side and speaking with Chief Hopper. The two teachers wear matching worried expressions. 

As soon as Eddie spots you, he’s charging over. “Oh, thank God,” he murmurs, throwing his arms around you and hugging you tight. You can feel the tears falling from his eyes, wetting the crook of your neck. His hands squeeze against your back and your shoulder blades as his body is wracked with sobs. 

You weave your fingers through his hair, holding him as close as you can. You’re desperate to know what’s going on, but you doubt he could explain if he tried. Instead, you continue comforting him while Principal Sinclair walks over. 

Her strides are long and purposeful, and she meets your own terrified gaze with her own. “Harris went missing during recess,” she says quietly, “and Mr. Munson let us know that you might be an asset in locating him.”

Harris went missing. Bile inches up your esophagus and you swallow it, wincing at its burn. “Why would he—” You stop mid-sentence; his motive is not important right now. All of your focus needs to be on finding him. 

Chief Hopper approaches you and Eddie, tapping your boyfriend on the shoulder with two fingers. Eddie looks up, wipes his face with the heel of his palm, and clears his throat, but a fresh batch of tears threatens to spill over anyway. 

“We’ve just collected statements from his teachers,” Hopper reports, looking down at his notepad. “They said that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, that Harris was just playing with his friends one moment and then gone the next.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “No, something had to have happened.” Harris had wandered off plenty of times, like at the flea market. The difference was that he was easily found. “If you haven’t found him, then he’s either hiding, or someone…” The thought is too painful to finish. 

Hopper looks over at the principal. “You’re certain that the playground is secure?” He asks her, not accusing, but waiting for confirmation. 

“Yes, absolutely secure,” she affirms, nodding her head. “The gate can only be opened from the inside, so no one can access it off of the street.”

You know this, of course, but it doesn't bring you closer to finding Harris. 

“We’ve taped off the playground,” Hopper continues, “and we’ve got a search squad going now. Considering that Harris has been diagnosed with a disability, we’re beginning this investigation right away.”

“Mr. Munson,” a second officer chimes in, “is there anyone who would be inclined to take your son? Perhaps a non-custodial parent or an estranged relative?”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “His mom, um, isn’t in the picture. Never has been.”

Hopper cocks one brow. “Never?” he asks disbelievingly. “How soon after he was born did she relinquish her rights?”

“She, um,” Eddie swallows, rubbing his nose in embarrassment, “she never did. Never relinquished her rights, I mean. She just kinda split.”

“So there was no formal agreement that she could no longer be involved in Harris’s life?”

“N-No,” he stammers, shame seeping from every pore. He’d always meant to start the legal proceedings, but that takes time and money…and maybe a small part of him had always hoped she’d come around and do the right thing. 

He looks over at you now, the way you’ve stepped into a mothering role like a puzzle piece. Like any parent, you’d made some mistakes, but you’re also the most compassionate person Eddie has ever known. 

He thinks of the times he’d tried to make his ex get clean, to want to get clean, and to be there for Harris. The weight of disappointment caused his chest to ache every time she’d mumble, “I’m gonna, but not right now” or “I don’t need help.”

Perhaps it’s unfair to compare the two of you; after all, you hadn’t struggled with addiction. But Eddie can’t help himself. You’d loved Harris before you’d even loved him, he realizes. And he’d never had to ask you to. 

“Do you have any contact information for her?” Hopper taps his pen against his notepad. “Nine out of ten times in these situations, the child is with someone they know.”

What about the ‘one’ time? What happens then? Heat pulses in Eddie’s cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. He doesn’t need Hopper to answer the question; he already knows what that means. 

“It’s from five years ago, so I don’t know if it’s still accurate.” He stumbles over his words, thinking about the last time he’d called her; it was the invitation to Harris’s birthday. “I don’t know it by heart, but I have it in my address book at home.”

Hopper gives a brusque nod to his colleague and to your boss. “We’ll give you a lift. And, uh, it’ll be good to set up your place as a home base.”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Eddie mumbles, simply going through the motions without processing them. He’s on autopilot, a robotic version of himself. If he was able to fully absorb his surroundings, he would note the irony of him sitting in the back of the cop car because they’re helping him instead of escorting him to the county jail. 

You don’t let go of his hand the entire ride there, your thumb rubbing the soft hairs on his knuckles. “We’re gonna find him,” you whisper reassuringly, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

But Eddie is too embroiled in his own thoughts, imagining every possible tragedy that could have befallen his son. As soon as Hopper pulls up to the apartment complex, Eddie is flying up the stairs, two at a time, unlocking the door as fast as he can. You run in behind him, watching as he flings loose papers and pens from a kitchen drawer. He’s kicked over the boxes he’s already packed; clothes and some of Harris’s toys are scattered across the floor like a poorly-designed booby-trap. 

He holds up the tattered black book, flipping through it until he lands on the right page. “Here. Right here.” He frantically points to an entry at the top, fingertip jabbing into it over and over. 

Hopper takes the book from him, careful not to rip the already weathered materials. He dials the digits and frowns when he’s greeted by the automated we’re sorry, this number is no longer in service, far too chipper for the circumstances. He tries once more in case he dialed incorrectly, but he gets the same message. 

“Disconnected,” he says gruffly, hanging the receiver with a clank. “Is there anyone else?”

Eddie can only shake his head somberly. If Wayne got Harris from school early, he would have told him. He wasn’t even sure how much of Harris’s maternal family knew of his existence, let alone his location. If someone took his son, it was more than likely a complete stranger. 

Hopper’s walkie crackles with static; you and Eddie stiffen with anticipation. “Hey, Chief?” comes from the garbled voice on the other end. 

“I’m here.”

“We’ve got a kid here at the school who says he spoke with Harris Munson right before he went missing today.”

Eddie stands up, walking closer to Hopper. Part of you expects him to grab the walkie and try talking straight to the other officer, but he doesn’t. 

Hopper presses the small black button and speaks. “Copy. Does he know where we might locate him?”

There’s a deafening silence for a few moments; no more than ten seconds pass, but it feels like a lifetime. Finally, there’s some information: “No known location; just says that Harris told him he was having ‘big feelings’ and needed to go to his favorite place.’”

“The zoo,” you murmur aloud, drawing confused looks from both men in the room. “When he got upset on Saturday—at Goodwill—I taught him to do some deep breathing and picture being in his favorite place, and he told me it was the zoo. But I…” you swallow, furrowing your brows, “I told him to picture it, not actually go there.”

“Zoo’s too far for him to walk, and no bus driver is going to let a kid that young ride by himself,” the chief points out. 

You nod, biting your lower lip. “He might not be at the zoo, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to get there.”

Hopper thanks the other officer and turns to you and Eddie. My guys are deploying the search party as we speak.” He takes a deep breath and makes direct eye contact with you and Eddie. “We’ll do everything we can to bring your son back safely.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands, collapsing back against the living room wall and sliding down to the floor. 

You look over at the police chief. “Can we help? Join the search…or something?” Anything besides sitting around and waiting for answers. 

“Absolutely. We’ll keep an officer stationed here in case Harris comes home.” 

You nudge your foot against Eddie’s. “C’mon, babe.” You try to keep strength behind your words, to be what Eddie needs right now, but it gets harder with each passing second. “We’re gonna go look for him.” He looks up and notices that you’ve extended your hand, and he takes it, pulling himself up. 

He doesn’t say a word, but he follows you and Hopper out the door. He’s gnawing on his lips so violently that some skin peels off between his teeth; flecks of blood dotting his usually perfect mouth. 

“We’ve got some time before sunset, so that’s on our side,” Hopper says as he drives back the way he came. “We’ll start in the woods near the school, and we’ll move from there.” He peers back at the two of you through the rearview mirror with a determined gaze.

“My uncle,” Eddie says suddenly, no certain expression on his face. He’s practically catatonic when he talks. “I want Wayne to wait at the apartment. I need to tell him…” If Harris does return home first and sees police officers surrounding the place, he might get scared and run off again.

Hopper scratches at his beard. “We’ll let him know, all right? Don’t worry about that.” He radios the instructions to a colleague, who confirms them and signs off, before pulling into a grassy area and killing the engine. “Let’s go. If Harris is going to come out for anyone, it’ll be you two.” He slams his door and then helps you and Eddie out of the backseat. 

Before you can even begin, you hear a group of people shouting Eddie’s name. You look over to see Jeff, Jess, and Robin waving and walking towards you. 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Robin says, giving you and Eddie a hug. “We’re gonna help you, and we’re not leaving until we find him.”

Jeff offers a tight smile, one hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We’re here for you man,” he promises, sincerity in its purest form. “Viv is gonna stop by later and I’ll take care of Ettie.”

It’s a kind gesture, but Eddie’s stomach sours at the thought of still searching later. He needs to know that his son is safe now. 

Harris’s name is echoed over and over, bouncing off of trees and shaking the leaves as you and your friends call out for him. 

“Harris!” you cry out, throat raw from your constant shouting. “Harris, it’s Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Harris!” Eddie’s voice is even louder than yours; the power behind it is palpable. “Harris, it’s Daddy! Please come out! You’re not in trouble!” he adds, cognizant of the little boy’s fear of making people mad. 

Every squirrel that darts across the forest floor has you whipping your head around, heart leaping at the prospect of Harris emerging from where he’s hiding. 

He has to be hiding; your mind won’t let you imagine what could happen if the wrong person saw him walking by himself, determined to get to the zoo…

“Harris, Aunt Robin and I will buy you any toy you want!” Jess yells. “And all the ice cream you can eat!”

The five of you take turns making promises to nobody; they’re secrets shared with the wind. Each unanswered call leaves you feeling more defeated, especially with the sun hanging lower in the sky. It will be dark soon, leaving Harris even more vulnerable than he already is.

Will joins the group a few moments later, bringing granola bars, water, and flashlights. You can only stomach about a quarter of your snack, having completely lost your appetite. Eddie doesn’t even bother to eat, fueled by adrenaline rather than food.

“Principal Sinclair is also looking,” Will tells you and Eddie. “She’s with Lucas and Erica over at Merrill Wright’s farm. It’s closer than the zoo, but he’s got some animals, so they wanted to check there.” He pauses, casting his eyes down for a second before looking at Eddie. “Everyone’s helping out with this. They all want to find Harris.”

Tears well up along Eddie’s lash line; he blinks them away to keep his vision clear. “Thanks, man.” He coughs to clear his throat, emotions forcing their way through. “That means a lot.” For a moment, he sees Will as he was when they first met: an overwhelmed little freshman, unsure of his place in high school, let alone in the world.

What if Harris never gets the chance to find himself? What if he doesn’t get to grow up and learn new things, make his own mistakes, figure out who he is?

You put an arm around Eddie, unknowingly pulling him from his intrusive thoughts. “Can you try to drink some water? Please?” You know better than to nag him about eating right now, but the last thing he needs is to get dehydrated.

He cracks open the bottle and takes a few sips, not realizing how thirsty he was until the liquid covers his tongue. He downs it all without taking a breath, the plastic crinkling as he siphons out every last drop of water.

“Take mine,” you tell him, offering it with the best smile you can possibly muster, but he shakes his head.

“You need it, too.” He’s not wrong, but you have no issue letting him drink from your bottle if he’s still thirsty.

You take a sip and pass it to him. “We’ll share.”

Another hour passes, the pink and orange hues becoming deeper purples and reds as the sky darkens with night. Some people start to call it quits, returning home to their own children, breathing secret sighs of relief that they have children to return home to. Your group remains intact; no one is even considering leaving until they physically cannot move any longer.

With just overworked flashlight bulbs illuminating your path, you continue trudging through the woods. Hopper’s shift was over hours ago, but he’s steadfast in his pursuit to find Harris.

Eddie’s exhausted physically and emotionally, feeling like every part of him has been drained and can never be replenished. His son is missing; he might have been kidnapped, and he doesn’t know if or when he’ll see him again. All he wants is to hold him again, to hear his little laugh as he tells a cheesy joke he learned at school, to watch him sound out new words or draw a picture or just fall asleep in his own bed.

Hopper’s walkie crackles; he clutches it tight and holds it so he can hear it clearly.

“Chief, we may have a sighting.”

A light flickers behind Eddie’s eyes; he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he can’t help himself. He listens intently as the other officer relays the information.

“Doris Driscoll just went outside to let her cats in for the night, and when they didn’t go inside, she went looking. Found them behind a bush, eating crackers out of a little boy’s hands. He told her his name is Harris. Matches the descriptions the father provided.”

Eddie grabs your hand, gripping it with whatever strength he has left. You feel a surge course through your veins as Hopper motions for you to follow him to his car. He turns on his siren and guns it down the road, swerving in and out of traffic to get to the old woman’s house as fast as he can.

Please, please let him be here, you silently pray, subconsciously screwing your eyes shut and holding your breath. The only thing worse than not knowing where he is might just be a false alarm that he’s been found. 

Hopper slams on the brakes behind an ambulance parked in front of the Driscoll residence, their open doors allowing the fluorescent lights to stream through. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as an EMT wheels a stretcher over to it. 

A stretcher carrying Harris. 

“Harris!” Eddie cries in simultaneous relief, exuberance, and fear. He instinctively reaches for a door handle, quickly remembering that he’s in a cop car and had to wait for Hopper to let him out from the outside. 

You’re already crying; everything you’d been holding back to maintain a solid resolve for Eddie is crumbling as soon as you’d seen his son. You scramble out of the car, right behind him, and run to where the emergency technicians are treating Harris. 

He’s awake and alert, and he spots the two of you right away. “Daddy! Ms. Sweetheart!” He tries sitting up, but a technician gently guides him to lay down again. “No, that’s my daddy and my almost-mommy!” he protests. “I gotta see them!”

You and Eddie reach him at the same time. He’s covered in dirt; it’s smudge along his cheeks, his arms, and his legs. He’s even managed to get some on the tip of his nose. Some blood is smeared on his right knee where he’s seemed to have scraped it, and the EMTs spray some antiseptic on it and apply a bandage before he can even feel the sting.

“Oh, thank God.” The words rush out of Eddie’s mouth, and he puts his palms on his son’s cheeks and presses kisses all over his face. “You’re okay, you’re okay…” He turns to the technicians, worry pinching his brows together. “He’s okay, right? There’s nothing wrong?” He pushes some of Harris’s damp curls from his forehead. There aren’t any visible bumps or bruises on his face, which eases a bit of his nerves.

One technician nods. “Right now, it seems like he’s just got some minor lacerations, but we’ll run the gamut of tests to rule out more severe injuries.” She looks over at the police chief, who stands a few yards behind you. “We’ll take it from here.”

Hopper gives a small, sad smile; it’s then that you remember that his own child had passed away nearly twenty years ago. She was only a little older than Harris is now. 

Eddie follows your gaze with red-rimmed eyes, the realization setting in for him, too. “Thanks, Chief,” he says, just loud enough so Hopper can hear him. Hopper nods, placing his hat atop his head before walking away.

The EMTs check for any broken or sprained bones, shine lights into Harris’s pupils, and ask him a few simple questions to assess for a concussion. “We’ll have to take him to the hospital, just to be sure,” they say to you and Eddie, “but barring any extenuating circumstances, you should be able to bring him back home tonight.”

“Okay, yeah, okay,” Eddie breathes, crouching down a bit so he’s eye-level with his son. “Har, can you tell us why you ran away from school? You’re not in trouble; I promise.”

Harris looks down at the blanket draped across his lap. “I had really big feelings, and I tried thinking about the zoo like you told me,” he glances at you, “but then the feelings didn’t go away, so I decided to go there.”

You take his small hand in yours. “What were the big feelings?” you ask gently, free of judgment and filled with concern.

He thinks for a second, then states matter-of-factly, “Mad and sad.”

“Mad and sad?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, wiping at his nose with his free hand. “‘Cause of Ms. Marion and Ms. Paula.”

You freeze, trying to regain your composure before Harris can pick up on your uncertainty. “What happened with your teachers, Har?”

“They were saying mean things about you and Daddy, and it made me mad and sad.”

At the sound of his title, Eddie speaks up. “Mean things about us?”

“Yeah, like, that Ms. Sweetheart is probably teaching you how to read, too,” Harris explains, “and I said that they’re lying, that you’re really smart and read to me all the time. And that Ms. Sweetheart isn’t your teacher; she’s my almost-mommy.”

Eddie clenches his fists, veins prominent as his body goes stiff. His anger isn’t at the insult, but at the way they could speak so brazenly about a child’s family, disregarding the hurt it causes. He doesn’t care what those women think of him, but he’s furious that they upset Harris.

“They keeped laughing and telled me to go play,” Harris continues, getting choked up at the memory. “I tried to do my breathing and my favorite place remembering with Charlie, but it didn’t work. And I got lost going to the zoo–the real zoo, not the one in my imagination–so I hided with the cats until the nice lady found me.”

You and Eddie share heartbroken looks, pushing aside your respective emotions as you tend to the little boy laying in front of you. “Get some rest, Har Bear,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head. “You had a long day.”

He falls asleep after a few minutes, constantly checking to make sure that the two of you are still by his side. As soon as his breathing steadies and his eyes remain closed, Eddie turns to you, exhausted and running on fumes. Wet brown doe eyes pleadingly gaze at you, lids heavy with sleep. You wrap your arms around him, unable to get close enough. He moves slowly, every action a delayed reaction, but he gradually embraces you, too.

“Stay. Please.” The words are muffled by the way his mouth is mashed into your scalp, but you hear them perfectly fine. “And if we get to go home tonight, come back with us. I need you both close to me.”

“Of course.” Your own lips press against his perspiration-soaked shirt collar. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” You pull back ever-so-slightly, brushing tears from his cheeks. “He’s safe. He’s safe, and he’s here, and we get to keep spoiling and loving him.”

Eddie absorbs this as best as he can, mind still spinning as the adrenaline crash hits. There’s so much he wants to say, but for right now, he just carves out space in his body for yours. Your light whisper keeps him grounded, pulling hi away from the spiraling that usually overtakes him in times of crisis.

“I’ve got you.”

--

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 12.9k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, Stripper!Billy and Stripper!Steve at the end.

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You get to know Eddie in a more intimate way, and he helps you with something you didn't think he would agree to. But friends always help eachother.

Listen to the kissing scene here, with AI Eddie.

A/N: Can't even begin to describe how happy you guys made me with all of your reblogs and boosting this story in ways I didn't think could be done! Welcome to all new followers, to all new readers and thank you for your support!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

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PART 4

You ran out of coffee. That’s the first thing you noticed this morning as you got up and wanted your shot of caffeine. The fact you would have to go out to go get a cup of coffee before starting your day at work, was already making you whine with exasperation. 

You had a coffee machine at home because you always liked some nice, steamy, cup of coffee as soon as you woke up, but, you forgot to get it last time you went grocery shopping, swearing you had some, knowing you had some, so your best guess was that Robin snuck in and took it, forgetting to tell you.

You both have copies of your keys, because that’s the one lucky thing of having a friend in the same complex. If something seems out of the ordinary, or something happens at all, you could always go and check on eachother. It was safe, and you both liked feeling safe by one another.

But there were times where Robin would sneak in while you were out or something, or even sleeping, and she would get stuff she doesn’t have. You could go do that to her as well, but she probably used it all by now, so it was no use. You know Robin’s got a sweet stash at her home, so you always invade her property to steal some Reeses or some Musketeers. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, wearing your Pikachu PJs and groaned, knowing you had to change out of the comfy clothes to get into restraining ones. You looked at the clock, 8:10. You had fifty minutes before you got into work, so you moved quickly to get dressed, with the new clothes you got during last week. 

After that meeting with Eddie and his friends, you’ve been shopping during the week, sometimes with Robin, sometimes by yourself, and you actually quite liked picking up clothes that no one could judge in the changing room but you and you only. You’ve gotten blouses, tank tops, a lot of colors, skirts, even shorts you felt comfortable in.

But you also bought something you never thought you would buy. A black piece of lingerie. Seeing it against your body, made you feel powerful, there was the obvious insecurity at the back of your throat and your mind, trying to tell you that you would not use it, that you don’t need it, that you don’t even look like the mannequin where it was displayed.

But you still felt that power. And you wanted it. So you got it. As well as a black stiletto dress, some heels, some accessories. Yes, your credit card bill will be something next month, but it was the first time you shopped, pushing so many negative thoughts away, listening to your gut only. 

So, right now, you put on some pair of jeans and a pink blouse over you, throwing on your white sneakers as well, since it was just a trip to the coffee shop that was two blocks away from your apartment complex. You grabbed your purse, threw your cell phone in there and off you went, walking into the morning sun and the soft summer breeze hitting your skin as you walked.

The days were getting hotter, and you were happy to have A/C in your apartment and mostly in your room, because that would have been agonizing. You could see people in suits walking to get the bus, or going straight to their workplace, and of course the old ladies that took their morning walks with their little dogs.

You reached the coffee shop, small, but it served coffee. You never came here, always opting to go to starbucks or another shop, because here, in this particular shop, there was always–

“Hello! What can I get for you?” Your eyes finally focused on the pair of green ones in front of you. A small knot appeared in your belly, as the nerves vacated in your throat, looking at the guy in front of you. He had black hair, and a bright smile on his face, the apron of the shop sitting on his waist. 

You licked your lips as you felt your fingertips warming up, as well as your ears, looking up at the menu as your brain started working once more. You scanned your options and took a deep breath in, pushing yourself to look down towards the guy’s eyes once again. 

“I would like a medium coffee, with half creamer in it please.” You respond to him, no shakiness in your voice, no stuttering, you didn’t even think of the words, or process anything, you just talked. And he was a handsome young man, probably beginning his 20’s, but his eyes were sharp green, yet, you didn’t feel like running away.

“Sure thing! To go?” Was his next question and you wanted to nod, because it didn’t require for you to speak really, but you still did, just to prove yourself, just to feel prouder and feel your chest gleam with victory.

“Yes, please.” You grabbed your purse and found your hands steady, a little bit of coldness at the tip of your fingers, but nothing like before. Nothing like you would have acted before. You grabbed your wallet and took out the money, and you looked at the bill in your hand and the counter. You raised your head up again, and put the money in front of you for him to take from your hand.

He smiled and grabbed the bill from the other end, and you felt yourself blush slightly as you saw he was about to give you change.

“Keep it.” It wasn’t much, but this had made your day insanely better, by a mile, and it didn’t even start yet. The sun was up, yes, but it was too early in the morning. The guy smiled at you again, giving you a nod.

“Thank you lovely.” Oh, a pet name. Your heart picked up a pace as you smiled back at him, and his back finally turned, letting you exhale a shaky breath out of your lips. Your stomach was knotting, but you kept your gaze up, hand on the counter as you waited for him to finish your coffee. There was a part of you that wanted to run away, but because you didn’t know what to take of that pet name. Eddie says them all the time, so it’s nothing special, right? It’s just a way of calling someone.

He turned around with your coffee in hand, and slid it over to you with a smile to his face, which you returned, despite feeling your neck burning from nervousness, and you grabbed your cup, putting the strap of your purse over your shoulder. You cleared your throat slightly and pushed your limits once again.

“Have a good day.” You say to him and he gives you a small chuckle and a nod.

“You too Miss!” And that was that. You turned around and walked out of the door, with a small ding as you opened it. You were wide eyed, a huge grin on your face as you walked, trying to keep your excitement inside. A month ago, you wouldn’t have done that, there was no way you would have done something like that! You looked at him, straight in the eye and even held a conversation! Tipped him! 

You were panting heavily as you finally reached your complex, looking at the time on your phone as you headed to Robin’s apartment. You had 20 minutes before logging into work, and you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t contain it inside yourself. You fumbled with the keys on her lock, and rushed inside, pushing the door closed with your foot and dropping everything, the cup of coffee and your purse on Robin’s table.

You rushed towards her room, already hearing the intense snoring your friend has, and you opened her door to see her hugging her pillow, while drooling all over it, one leg over the comforter as she slept on her side. You bit your lip as you tiptoed to her right side, and then lightly shook her shoulder.

“Robin… Robs…” You tried waking her up and all you got was a soft snore and a grunt.

“5 more minutes and I’ll get ready mom…” You giggled under your breath and shook her harder.

“Robin, wake up, I have to tell you something!” You exclaimed a little louder this time, and that made her head prop up from her pillow, doing a slurping sound as she put her spit back in her mouth, her hair almost looking like a nest.

“What the fuck are you doing? Its–” She double tapped the phone on her nightstand and looked at the time through half lidded eyes. “Almost 9 AM! I work at 10 and I wake up ten minutes before logging in.” She grunted out to you and you were still smiling widely and shaking her shoulder.

“But I need to tell you something! Look what I got!” You rushed outside the room to go grab the forgotten cup of coffee and then rushed back towards Robin’s room to see her sitting up, rubbing her eyes while yawning. You showed her your cup and she just looked at you as if you were completely insane.

“You got… Coffee?” And her eyes slightly widened as she rubbed her eyes with her fingers, pinching them as frustration hit her. “I took the last of your coffee, shit, forgot to tell you.”

“Robin, no! I got it from the coffee shop two blocks down!” You tried again and she just looked at you with a confused look on her face.

“I don’t know why you woke me up for, but I do not appreciate it–”

“The barista was a guy!” 

And Robin sat there, looking at you, blinking slowly as your news sank in. She knew about the guy at that coffee shop, she buys her coffee there, while you drive around to look for Female baristas, but now you bought coffee from the same place she does. It was a family business and the guy is the son of the owner. 

“You bought coffee…”

“Yes.”

“From the barista, who is a man.”

“Yes, and I said thank you, tipped him, gave the money in his hand and even wished him a good day without driving my eyes away.” You puffed out your chest as you took a sip of your coffee which was now cold, making you wince in disgust. 

Robin slowly started smiling widely at you and she plopped herself onto the bed again with a cheer, excitement blooming in her chest for you, because this now offered you possibilities, chances, and it opened so many doors for you, the possibility of thousands of paths you could take.

“Holy shit! GOD BLESS STRIPPERS!” She yelled out loud which made you choke on the coffee you were sipping, and then trying to shush her through your coughs.

“Robin, shut up!” You laughed as you placed your cup on her night table, sitting next to her as she just stared at the ceiling with a wild look on her face.

“This is huge! Like, now you can talk to strangers! Like, complete strangers without knowing their name! This is a big step!” She giggled as she looked up at you and you were smiling, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly because of how proud you felt of yourself. 

“He even called me Lovely, and I didn’t flinch! I blushed of course, but I stood my ground.” You tell her, and she sat up, pinching your cheek tightly.

“I am so proud of you…” And you knew she meant it as you pushed her away from the assault on your cheek, rubbing it afterwards as you laughed at her, but Robin’s smile faded slightly as she looked down at her hands. “What about the other girls? When will you tell them that you’re doing this?” She asked and yes, you have been keeping this a secret therapy from the other girls in the group, but because you wanted to surprise them, and you also felt too much pressure on yourself if many people knew about this. 

“When I get a date… I will tell them. I just feel like I have to make them proud if I do tell them, like I will force myself to move rapidly and not at my own pace.” You try to explain and gladly Robin understood, giving you a nod. Her smile returned but in the shape of a smirk as she scooted closer to you.

“You gonna tell Eddie?” You looked at her and you felt a burning happening on your ears, and you felt a cold sweat going from the bottom of your neck and running towards your chest. “You still going to his house after work?” Your eyes widened as you jumped up from the bed.

“WORK!” You rushed out of the bedroom, leaving a laughing Robin trying to catch her breath on her bed. Of course, she couldn’t go back to sleep from the excitement now, and the fact that you would be going to Eddie’s later on was making even more excited.

Because she wasn’t invited this time.

You fixed your half ponytail again as you stood in front of Eddie’s apartment door. You chose a different outfit now, jeans, wide leg this time, and a tight crop top white T-shirt, that covers your belly button of course. You had some bunky white sneakers on your feet, and you had done some eyeliner, mascara, and covered a few marks on your face that were here and there. 

The butterflies in your stomach were going wild as you waited for him, hearing the thumping coming closer to the door. Fridays were Eddie’s day off, so it would be just the two of you in his apartment. You doubted on saying yes to this when he invited you over, but you two were friends, it was something normal to do. So why are you still nervous?

The door opened and you looked up to see Eddie smiling down at you and his eyes widened slightly as he looked at you.

“All this for me?” He motioned towards your outfit and you couldn’t help the small smile that came up to your lips as well as a blush spreading on your cheeks, not expecting his praise. He opened his arms for you, raising his eyebrow up, hiding behind his fringe, his hair in a high bun, with some strands falling on his face.

You saw the black shirt, tightening on his chest and biceps as he opened his arms. The guitar pick hanging from his neck, and the black ripped pants on his legs, followed by some combat black boots. You rocked a bit on your heels as you got closer to him, feeling your stomach slowly rising to your throat. He was smirking as he wrapped his arms around you, not too tight, but it was enough to invade you with warmth, and his cologne penetrated your nostrils, making you feel slightly dizzy.

You gulped heavily as you slowly placed your cheek on his chest, feeling the warmth on your skin growing hotter, stiffening all over as his arms pressed onto your shoulders to pull you closer.

“Your arms around me, return my amazing warm hug.” He joked, but he was actually quite nervous about this. He had told you in the last video call that he would like to greet you properly with a hug, and you agreed, after catching your breath a few times, but you did. He felt his heart beat slightly faster as your perfume invaded his sense of smell, noting the sweetness of it, but also the powerful punch to it. 

You raised your arms, feeling them tremble slightly, slowly putting your hands against his waist, almost a brush, not putting pressure on your grip and Eddie shook his head, you could feel over yours, which was making your blush deepen even more as the butterflies in your belly were creating hurricanes and tornadoes from how wild they were flying.

“Your arms, not just your hands. Wrap your arms around me Sweetheart.” You closed your eyes at the vibration on his chest as he talked, taking another deep breath in, guiding your hands towards his back to finally wrap your arms around his waist. He chuckled and finally squished you into him, making you choke up at the sudden gesture, your chest pressing against his harshly, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Eddie, what the fuck–” You choked out with a weak voice and he finally pulled away, laughing at your reaction as you took many deep breaths to get your lungs to decompress again.

“That’s a guy friend hug for you. Come on, I’ll prepare us some nice drinks, and guess what!” He said excitedly as you walked into his apartment, the blush still spread on your cheeks as you held your chest. 

“What?” He pointed towards the coffee table in front of the couch, and there you saw the bowl of Nachos and different smaller bowls that contained salsas and dip sauces. Your face lit up as you rushed towards to sit on the couch, grabbing onto one chip and dipping it into the Guacamole he prepared, taking it with one big bite. If there was something you really loved, it was Guacamole, because it was fresh, yet rich in flavor. It was perfect.

Eddie was biting his bottom lip as he saw your eyes close in delight and he almost choked on his saliva as a soft moan vibrated on your throat. He wasn’t ready for that. He really was not prepared for that sound. It caught him completely by surprise and now it was something he won’t be able to erase from his head anytime soon. 

“Good?” He asked and you opened your eyes to smile at him, still chewing on the chip, nodding your head excitedly. He chuckles at your response, happy with it, and heads over to grab some beers from the fridge, taking off the caps with a bottle opener that is magnetized to the fridge itself. He returned to you, sitting right beside you as he handed the bottle to you.

“Oh!” You hurriedly swallowed your chip as you raised the bottle to cheer. “I will cheer because today I was able to buy coffee from a shop that has a working… male barista.” You say proudly with a smile on your face and Eddie’s turns into shock, mouth falling agape at you.

“Seriously?” He asked and you smiled at him, nodding excitedly, repeating the same steps you did as when you told Robin about it. He was amazed by you, really, slowly becoming confident, in the way you talk, dress, and most importantly, you are confident in being yourself. You don’t change your way of speaking, or your topics, or what you like just to fit in. This is what mattered the most. “Well, fuck sweetheart, congratulations to that!” 

You both cheered with a clink of your bottles and instantly started to dig away onto the chips. Eddie was mesmerized at how you could work from home, because it would allow you to do many things whenever you have a few minutes to spare, and he was right. You often cleaned the house, or played on your Switch.

“Please tell me you play Mario Kart.” He said and you smirked at his words, finding out that he too owns a switch. So that was quickly plugged in, and the matches began, one after the other, Eddie choosing Mario, while you chose Peach. 

You won every game.

“This is rigged. It’s absolutely rigged.” He exclaims, putting his controller on the table with a loud thud as he sipped on his beer with an angry frown on his face, while you wore a wide smile on yours, putting the controller on the coffee table too. 

“I am just better than you in this.” You say cockily, catching him by surprise but it was indeed something you are confident in, so he will accept you being a brat for now. He sighed, shaking his head.

“I beat my brother every time, and he is like a major video game nerd. Always gets mad that this is something he can’t beat me at.” He laughs as he slumps back against the couch and you stare at him, deciding to take off your shoes, to be able to sit and turn to look at him, propping your feet up on the couch, right under you, almost in a kneeling position.

“You mentioned your brother before, also a Lord of the Rings fan.” You say to him and he chuckles, looking at you with a smile to his face. He made an ‘oh’ sound and moved slightly towards you to be able to pull the phone out of his back pocket. 

“A little shit I tell you.” He opened the gallery on his phone and went to look for the photos of last christmas. He found one and smiled as he looked at it, handing the phone to you.

You almost snorted your beer out of your nose as you held Eddie’s phone. Eddie was wearing the ugliest christmas sweater you had ever seen, in the color of greens and reds, reindeers all over it, while the guy next to him, with curly hair as well, but did not share any of Eddie’s facial features, wore a Rudolph sweater, and the nose was lit up. 

“Well, these are… some nice sweaters!” You choke out, and he took the phone back, laughing from your reaction as he put his phone onto the table again.

“Yeah, his mom bought them for us.” He replied and that caught your attention. His mom. Not their mom. He noticed how you tilted your head at the word and he straightened up, looking at you. “My parents have been gone since I was 10. My uncle Wayne took me in, and it was just the two of us, living in a small trailer in Hawkins. Poor man had to sleep on a pull out bed in the living room so I could have my own room.” He said with a soft chuckle as he looked at his rings, playing with them as a bit of nerves filled his voice.

Talking about his past was not something he ever liked doing, but in order to strengthen his relationship with you, he knew that this conversation was coming at some point. He was glad he had alcohol to do it, even if the story of his life didn’t end as tragically as he thought it would. 

“Bet he took good care of you.” You comment and Eddie simply nodded at that, a small smile appearing in his lips.

“Yeah, I was a son of a bitch though. In order for some bills to be paid, I sold drugs at school, you know just your friendly metal head weed dealer.” You looked down at that, not because of disappointment of him, but to know that he had it that rough in his teenage years was making your chest feel some kind of pressure that you were not enjoying. 

“Sometimes people have to do things in order to survive.” You said this time and he smiled, taking your soft gesture at not making a big deal out of his past. He looked up at you with a smile to his face now, almost excitedly.

“But, when I was at a gig, playing with my band, I invited my Uncle and he showed up with a lady friend called Claudia. After that, they started dating, and I met my step brother, Dustin.” He positioned himself to begin talking with his hands from the excitement he was feeling and you were mesmerized by how entranced you were with him. “I mean, he is a nerd! Like me! Star Wars, Lord of the rings, Star Trek, Lost, The Walking Dead… We became inseparable just like that.” 

You were smiling as you listened to him, he just seemed so happy about his family, about the person he is now, how despite it all he is still himself, not letting his circumstances change him or what he likes. 

“You were in a band?” You asked him and he nodded at you, a small glint of sadness shining in his eyes for a second.

“Yeah, as you can see, I play guitar.” He said to you and motioned to one corner, where one electric guitar stood, a red one, and then next to it was an acoustic one. You nodded with an ‘oh’. “Apart from your job, what do you do?” You turned to him and frowned slightly as you thought about that. 

You didn’t really have any hobbies, you just like to read, watch movies, play on your Switch every now and then, maybe baking sometimes when you feel inspired to do so, and now you feel a certain sense of embarrassment washing you over because of how boring you actually are. Think you are. You gazed down at your beer and fumbled with it with your fingers, clearing your throat.

“I– Uh… Don’t really do anything. I was as interesting as a slug, you know. Trying to just lay low, never really took an interest in anything.” Well that was depressing. Letting those words come out of your mouth, realizing that the person in front of you had a very exciting life, was slowly making you feel like curling into a ball and just staying there. Your brain was starting to work, and it began whispering things you didn’t want to hear, not with him.

‘You’re so boring, you should go.’

‘Why is he even friends with someone like you?’

“It’s okay to not have any interests. Better than having forced ones put on you.” You hear Eddie say as you look up to see him shooting a caring smile at you, your mind simply shutting off as you stared at him. “Steve for example, he was pushed to be captain of the Basketball team, Swimming Team, Soccer team… All because his parents wanted him to be the little star.” Eddie scoffed at that, shaking his head as he looked towards the living room.

“Really? And he didn’t want to do that?” You ask and Eddie simply laughs and shakes his head.

“Fuck no. Steve, believe it or not, fucking loves cooking. That guy can cook us a five star meal, out of thin air. He can make chicken nuggets taste like they were done by Gordon Ramsey himself.” You giggle at that, feeling your nerves slowly leaving your body as he talks to you.

“I have to try that, see if what you’re saying is true.” He laughs at that, and nods, taking a chip, dipping it into the Sour Cream and crunching on it. 

“Yeah, ‘nd Billy? Billy was an asshole to Steve and I in high school. Also pushed over by his father to be the best of the school. Worse than Steve.” His expression turned sour at that, his smile falling as he looked at his beer. “When Steve and I found him on the street, with a concussion in his head… I think that’s when we decided we would take Billy with us, out of Hawkins.” 

You were stunned to hear the story of these three men you met no more than a month ago, in the weirdest circumstance of all. You saw them almost naked, thinking that those three men would just be the snarkiest, or most flirtatious people you would ever meet, but there is always more under the skin, under the flesh, under any layer they had created to prevent from being hurt again.

“And… How did you… get the jobs you have now?” You asked him and he turned to you with a playful smile on his face. 

“The first time we stepped on Indianapolis we got drunk, and went straight to a strip club, a female strip club. We were amazed by the amount of money they were getting on their thongs, like, I’m talking about thousands! We just looked at eachother and wondered if we had the power to do something like that… Turns out, we did.” He took a sip of his beer and got up to go fetch two new bottles as you put your empty one on the coffee table, taking hold of a chip.

“So, it’s not like a job you regret having.” You say to him and you hear him chuckle as two caps clinked onto the counter. He walked back towards you, handing you your third bottle of the night as he sat back next to you.

“Nah. It’s still work, and it pays really well, and you can also meet the strangest, yet greatest of people there too.” He says clinking his bottle on yours and you feel a blush coming up to your cheeks at that, smiling softly at him. His eyes were fixed on you, as you smiled and took a sip out of your bottle.

You are peeling your layers, one by one, slowly but surely becoming the person you probably always wanted to be, letting yourself be happy, and this goes beyond the talking to men thing. This was you finally having some confidence in yourself. Believing that you dressed nice, that you did your make up right, that you did your hair with confidence and you felt pretty in all of it. 

Eddie was sure he was watching a butterfly coming out of their cocoon. 

He cleared his throat and your eyes focused on him again as he shook his head to drive his attention away from you, just for a second. You tilted your head as you waited for him to talk, and after an ‘ah’ from his part, which made you giggle, he continued.

“So, let’s tackle the next scenario… What do you do on a date?” He asks you and you immediately straighten up, noticing the slight happy dizziness the alcohol was doing in your brain but you were still very much conscious, but your blood flow was betraying you, making you blush all over.

“W-What do you mean?” You ask, actually wanting him to be more specific, and he maneuvered his body to sit while facing you, just like you were doing with him.

“Well, what do you talk about? Do you know how to make a move?” You were supposed to make moves yourself? You slowly shook your head at him and he sighed at you. “Well, for example, on a date, you talk about very superficial stuff. Work, movies, food, music. That’s really the basic stuff.” You were mentally taking notes of that with a nod to your head.

“So, no talks about… politics, family, religion?” You ask him and he laughs at you, his dimples dipping into his cheeks and you felt the burning on your ears again as you saw his smile while he shook his head.

“No. And nothing deep either… A little bit of what we just did now, but less intimate. I ask about your workplace, you ask about mine. You ask about my hobbies, I ask about yours. Keep it simple and short, maybe throw a little funny story here and there about stuff.” You raised your eyebrow at that, confused by what he might mean.

“A funny story?” You ask him and he nods at you.

“Like, for example, when I asked you about your friends and you told me about Robin and the Raccoon, which it’s still very funny to imagine it till this day.” He says with a chuckle and you follow him with a giggle, catching onto what he was saying. 

“Got it, funny works.” He nods at that, and you feel him getting closer to you.

“Alright, now… Normally, on dates, the men do not make any physical moves to show interest. That’s the lady’s job. If we are already engaging in a conversation with you, we are already interested, we are as simple as that… But a woman, you have to let us know you are interested, and that is all done with body language.” He finished and you were just blinking, almost wide eyed as he stared right back at you.

“B-Body language?” You ask him and he immediately laughs at your reaction, shaking his head.

“I’m not talking about pouncing on the guy. Look, I’m gonna touch you, okay?” He says this time and that for some reason sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt uncomfortable so you moved your legs a bit as he scooted closer. “Okay, so, one common move is laughing and placing your hand on the bicep.” 

“Oh, I’ve seen that in a movie! Wait, that actually works?” You ask tilting your head slightly and he smiles at you, nodding his head.

“Like a charm. You just–” He made a funny laugh, sort of a Santa Claus one, making you laugh as well as he moved back and then forward again, putting his hand on your left bicep, running his fingers down for just one second and pulling back again. You felt the area where he touched grow hot, and you bit your bottom lip at how easy he was making this look. “You touch for a second, do not linger more than that, because that would be too obvious, or too desperate.” 

“Oh? I mean, isn’t the whole idea of it for guys to know that I am interested though?” You asked and he nodded slightly to then shake his head afterwards.

“Yes and no. It’s confusing, but we do like a little bit of a chase. If we get it too easily, our interest kind of… fades away.” You grimaced at his words, showing him a look of slight disgust. 

“And you guys say we are the complicated ones.” You say, taking a sip of your beer and he widens his eyes, looking at you, putting his arm along the backrest of the couch, towards you. 

“Hey, we are very simple! In many, many aspects, sweetheart.” You were still facing him, biting onto the inside of your left cheek, trying to hide the smirk as you squinted at him.

“Like what? Throwing big rocks into a lake and rate the splash?” You ask as your left hand starts to slowly creep up on the back rest, without him noticing, a laugh vibrating in his throat at your words.

“Exactly, we just like a little bit of a struggle, that’s all. It makes the tension grow between you and your date.” He explained and your fingers found their way onto his right forearm which were still resting onto the backrest towards you. You hummed at that, taking a sip of your beer.

“But, wouldn’t you risk losing the date? What if you take too long and don’t give in in time?” You ask him as your fingers start to trace onto his bat tattoo, still looking at him. Your heart was beating with excitement as you saw him shiver slightly but was still not realizing you were touching him at all.

“We always give in, it’s at the third move that–'' He shivered again and his eyebrows knitted together as he felt the tingling sensation on his forearm. He looked at it and saw you passing your nails on his tattoos, and his belly twisted, simply and aggressively twisted. His intestines were knotting with each other and he was sure his brain short circuited. You were touching him. You were deliberately touching him, flirting with confidence, and you made sure he didn’t notice.

How long have you been touching him like that? And why does it feel so good when it’s just your nails brushing against his skin, tracing the drawings that were inked on him, and you weren’t even batting an eye at that. He slowly turned to look at you, and that’s when he saw your amused face, biting on your tongue as you smiled at him. A laugh started coming up on his throat, as his nerves flew away from his fingers.

“Shit, that was smooth Princess.” And to his dismay, you put your hand away, taking a sip of your beer. He was still staring at your movements, completely entranced. He was feeling his heart about to burst and he looked down at his beer, deciding this would be the last one for the night. Yep. It would be the last one.

“Thank you, I saw it on Friends.” You say with a wiggle of your eyebrows and he finally let out a cackle, amazed that you tried on a move from a tv show on him, and that it actually worked. He was slightly flustered and maybe that had to do with the alcohol in his system as well.

Your laughing slowly faded away as you looked down at your beer. The dread of the possibilities of what would happen after a move being made could trigger. Possibilities you weren’t sure if you’ve done right. Things you don’t know if you ever did, and what if it were done to you? 

“Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours now?” Eddie asks, slightly worried at the change of expressions you just had. Were you regretting something? Maybe touching him? 

“What if it goes well?” Was your simple question. Eddie blinked at that, not fully understanding what you were asking.

“What if… what goes well?”

“I-I mean, what if– What if the date goes well? What if–” You were a blushing mess, almost sweating as you tried to word your thoughts out without sounding like a child, without sounding pathetic, looking everywhere but his face. But Eddie’s eyes softened, looking at you, seeing you stammer in your words, trying to let them out of your mouth with no luck, but he knew exactly what you wanted to ask.

“You mean if he kisses you?” Your breath caught in your throat at that and you hid your face into your hands in shame. You’ve kissed before, but was it ever good? Was it enjoyable? Did you do it right? Did they do it right? You knew you didn’t put much effort into them because you just weren’t attracted to the people you’ve kissed, you just wanted the experience to be over with, just like your virginity.

But kissing someone attractive, you’ve never done that.

“Yeah… I mean– I can do it but… I don’t know if I did it right…” You said almost in a whisper, ashamed of your words, of being 25 years old and still worry about your kissing skills. Voicing your worries to a man that’s done more kissing than you did in your whole life, much more, way more. Eddie frowned at your words, and shifted on his seat, raising his hand up to put it under your chin for you to look at him. You slowly locked eyes with his and the feel of his hand on your skin, just made your butterflies flutter all inside of your belly, your head getting lighter at the touch. He smiled gently at you, pulling his hand away.

“Sweets, one thing you have to understand is… Attractive people don’t have superpowers.” He says to you and you frowned at that in confusion, tilting your head to the side while looking at him.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, just because a person is hot, doesn’t mean they are experts at everything. You can find hot people that are lousy kissers, bad at flirting, horrible at sex, like, finish in two seconds and that’s that. Hot people that are assholes, like certified with a capital A… Just because you find someone attractive, doesn’t mean they have more experience than you, in any way.”

You drank in his words, processing them in your head. You never thought of it like that, not ever. You just thought that people that are attractive have more chances of experiences, and that leads them to have some practice. Eddie was looking at how you were absorbing that information, and he noticed how your shoulders lost their tension, slumping down a bit on your body.

He was feeling the buzz of the beer as he took a sip from it and put it on the coffee table, a warmth expanding on his body as he scooted just one jump closer to you, which made you look at him again.

“I’ll tell you a secret, and you won’t tell them I told you okay?” He starts and you nod slowly at that, straightening up once again to listen to him. He smiled at you and continued. “So, you saw Steve. Fucking handsome right? With that hair, the freckles, fucking lady killer.”

“Y-Yeah.” You nodded slightly at that, feeling the anxiety of admitting Steve was hot not as painful as it once would have been. 

“Yeah, he couldn’t kiss for shit.” Eddie says with a smile and your eyes widened at that, not believing what he was saying. A man like Steve? Not knowing how to kiss?! “You’re looking at me like I’m lying, but I swear I’m not. When we first started working at the club, and Steve kissed clients, they would complain to Joyce that he was too sloppy, too much saliva.”

“Oh god…” You giggle as you take a sip from your beer, wincing in disgust at the thought of a kiss with overloading saliva. Eddie laughed at that, nodding.

“Yep… He was so bummed out because he wanted to be one of the favorites and he knew that if he didn’t kiss he wasn’t going to get it. So… Billy helped.” You spat your drink away from Eddie at that and he started laughing hysterically at your reaction. Your eyes were almost bulging out of your sockets as you listened to that.

“Are you joking!?” He shakes his head at you, still laughing, his shoulders shaking up and down at the motion.

“Fuck no. Imagine my fucking shock when I came in here and I found them making out on the kitchen. It was traumatizing.” He says and your eyes were still like plates as you stared at him. “They aren’t dating if that’s what you are going yo ask, Steve is bisexual but Billy is straight. He just wanted to help Steve.” You blinked rapidly at that, and gave one nod, frowning at that. Friends helped eachother like that?

“So, that makes Billy a good kisser then.” You say and Eddie nods with a shrug.

“That must be, BUT, Billy was very forceful when handling the clients. Pulling their chairs, or turning them, or grabbing their shoulders. He really didn't know how to treat them.” He says and you tilted your head with a surprised ‘oh’ on your lips. Now what Eddie was saying about everyone, despite how they looked, had flaws was making more sense to you.

“So, Steve taught him to be gentle?” You asked and Eddie smirked, shaking his head and pointing at himself.

“Nope. That would be me. I taught him how to pull a chair with force but not a violent one, or how to grab a chin or a shoulder without digging his digits into the skin.” He explains and you were just staring at him, nodding at every word he was saying. You licked your lips as the nerves started forming a lump in your throat, looking down at your bottle of beer which was half empty by now.

“So, that would make you… Flawless?” You try to giggle and Eddie couldn’t help but feel his chest warm at your slight praise, but he was far from what you just said. He shook his head and smiled at you.

“Hell no… I couldn’t dance for shit.” He says to you and you raise your head up in complete surprise. “I didn’t know how to move my hips like Channing Tatum does, and Steve was the one to help with that. You might have noticed that night that out of the three of us, Steve is the one that moves the most.” You shook your head nervously at that, looking at the empty bowl of chips on the coffee table.

“That night is still kinda hazy, but I remember one thing or two.” You were sure you were a deep red now, remembering Steve on his knees as he prayed to Nancy, Billy’s hip grinding against Barb, and Eddie’s kiss and fingers down someone’s throat. 

“So, yeah, we all have flaws, and we all have experience and inexperience.” He finishes saying, looking up at the ceiling, not noticing how you put the beer on the table, sitting up straight now, not facing him, your feet back on the floor as you fumbled with your hands on your knees.

The knots in your belly now turned into painful vines, full of thorns as your body burned in anticipation. You knew this would cross a line, you knew this was a big step, and you knew this was not right, and for some reason, you knew this would be a mistake. 

But, there is also a part of you that knows you want this. And that part is winning over all of the other things that were stopping you.

“S-So… You guys helped each other.” You began talking and he shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling as he rested against the backrest of the couch.

“Yeah, cause we’re friends. It’s what friends do, have each other's back.” You nodded at that, slowly as you gulped down the lump that was forming in your throat and your feet turned cold.

“Friends…” You were almost breathing heavily, your nails digging onto your knees as your heart started beating into your ears, hearing every thump of it as it rapidly made your blood flow to every inch of your body. “A-And… We’re friends… right?”

Eddie’s eyes almost came out of his skull because of how wide he just stared at the ceiling. Were you actually asking him what he thought you were asking? Nah, it couldn’t be possible. It wasn’t real, right? He slowly looked down and you were already looking at him, jumping slightly as he locked eyes with you, making you flinch your gaze away in embarrassment.

He was still trying to understand that what you were asking was real. You wanted his help, but he was fighting with himself because he didn’t want you to think he was taking advantage of you for trusting him. He really didn’t want you to think that. But if you were the one asking… 

“Sweets, are you asking me what I think you are asking me?” He asks, and he wants verbal confirmation, even if it takes you an eternity to say it, he will wait. His chest was hurting from how fast his heart was beating into it, and he wanted to punch it to make it calm down. You were a friend asking for help, he has to get a hold of himself.

“I-It’s stupid, don’t worry, f-forget what I just said!” Your mind was telling you to run away. You crossed the line, you fucked it up. Why would he want to kiss you anyways? You weren’t anything special, just a friend, and he kissed beautiful women almost every night. You were inexperienced, and you would probably fuck it up, completely and he would laugh at you, or what if he winces in disgust at you? What if–

“Darling, darling, darling… Calm down.” You felt his hand on your knee and your eyes looked down to your lap, not realizing that your legs had been jumping up and down uncontrollably. Your breathing was slightly heavy as you shook your head still looking down.

“I-I shouldn’t have– I mean– We’re-We’re friends–” And Eddie wasn’t going to let you belittle yourself. He knew what was coming next, so he stopped your rambling with just his voice.

“Honey, I would be honored to help you with this.”

Your body froze all of its movements. Your legs, your quivering lips, the digging of your nails on your jeans, and even your heart steadied itself, almost non beating. His hand was still on your knee and you saw him pulling it back to himself as he waited for you to reincorporate yourself. 

Did he say honored? Why would he be honored? You have to stop thinking, you have to stop. You need to push the thoughts away, he said he will help you, it’s just that. Help. It doesn’t mean anything else, but a friend helping another friend. Nothing more. It’s nothing more.

You slowly turned your head to face him and he was wearing a soft encouraging smile as he looked at you. He wasn’t going to show his nervousness, and he didn’t even know what he was nervous about. He has kissed plenty of women in his lifetime, but you, for some reason, were making his knees tremble slightly, as well as feeling like bending over from the constant knot in his stomach.

“You okay?” He asked you and you were still looking at him, face red as you tried to mumble out words.

“Y-You’re sure you want to… kiss me?” You asked him and his eyebrows turned into a frown at your question. He knew there was more to it than simply asking him if he wanted to kiss a friend to help her. He knew there was something deeper behind those words, something darker.

“Darling, you’re fucking beautiful, I’d be more than honored to kiss you.” He said with a fist pump in the air to try to ease up the tense situation and it seems it worked, because you let out a soft huff, almost a giggle, and he saw your fingers no longer digging on your jeans. He took a deep breath in and positioned himself, sitting next to you, but facing you, crossed legs under him. “Okay, I need you to, first, let yourself go.”

He put his arms out and started shimming all over, just moving all his arms and body erratically as if trying to get a bug away from him. You laughed at his movements and sat in the same position, facing him and shaking yourself to lose the tension on your body, making him laugh at you, scanning you all over for a second as you joined him in the laughter.

This moment right here between you two, was too easy, too natural, and it felt as if it were right, and it had always been destiny that you two should meet. He was enjoying this moment with you, finally something different in his daily life. His calls with you, whenever you show him a new piece of clothing you got for yourself, and it wasn’t only with him.

Steve and Robin talked privately too, but it was as if they were soulmates, long lost souls that should have been together a long time ago. Platonically. He wondered if that was the same with you. If your relationship was platonic of some sort, only focused on it being friendship… And there’s another part of him that wished it wasn’t that.

“Right so… I’m going to start slow, okay? So first things first.” He grabbed your hand gently, pulling it up towards his lips to finally press them against your knuckles. You took a sharp intake of breath at that, feeling him against your skin in this way was something you were not really prepared for. You shivered at his touch, and you felt your belly just yearning for more, your mind no longer wanting to run away. He lingered his lips there, looking at your reaction until you met his eyes again and you took a deep breath in with a nod.

Eddie now knew you were okay with his touch, putting your hand down once again. He licked his lips in anticipation as he looked into your eyes who were looking at him with expectation, waiting for his next move. He raised his hand up towards your right cheek and leaned forward. Your breath completely stopped as you felt your stomach just contract on itself, shutting your eyes tightly and bracing for what he was going to do, until you felt his lips press gently onto your left cheek. 

It was burning your skin almost.

“No need to act so pained about it.” He let out a nervous chuckle out of his lips as he saw your scrunched up face. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you again, and dropping his hand down from your face. “Okay, now, I want you to reciprocate that. Kiss my cheek, I’ll close my eyes so you can be comfortable.” 

When Eddie closed his eyes, you couldn’t help but stare at him. He just looked way too beautiful, untouchable almost, tingles going from the bottom of your neck to the tip of your fingers. Your heart was painfully beating into your chest cavity as you slowly leaned in, keeping your eyes open just to not miss the spot on his left cheek. You had to press your hands on his knees to keep yourself stable as your lips inched closer to his skin.

You held your breath in as you finally pressed your flesh with his, yours soft, plump against a warm cheek that was tinting itself in a pink hue. You let the air leave your lung as you rapidly sat back in place, taking your hands away from his knees. He gulped heavily as he composed himself, opening his eyes to look at you. 

Your eyes were on your lap as you fumbled with your fingers, and he wanted to laugh, almost giggling he could say at how red you were looking. But he wasn’t going to do that, because you were doing good, great even, but now comes the difficult part, one of the few. 

“That was soft sweetheart, thank you.” You almost whined at the praise but because you just felt getting redder and redder from embarrassment and adrenaline. You slowly looked up at him, and you suddenly saw the hint of nervousness cross his features, making your eyebrows twitch in confusion. “Um… Now, I will give you a peck on the lips. You can close your eyes this time, and then I want you to give one back to me, that okay?” 

Oh, your breathing quickened at that. You clenched your fists tightly, closing your eyes as you nodded at him, barely, but he could figure it out. He raised a hand up, and he noticed the particular shakiness at the tip of his fingers, frowning at them because he never twitched. He never trembled. He never got nervous. He held onto your left cheek and you jumped slightly at the touch, not expecting it and you tightened your lips together. He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“Don’t tighten your lips. Relax angel, it’s just me.” He softly says and the way his voice sounds on your ears, make you actually slump a little bit, relax your muscles as well as your lips. He looked down at them, feeling his breathing quicken its pace, but he held those breaths in, trying to not show how he was feeling to you, which he didn’t even know what feelings he was feeling himself. 

He leaned down, pulling your face towards him, slowly and agonizingly. You wanted to open your eyes to see how far he was from you, as your belly just screamed at you to lean closer, but you stayed put. Waiting, and after what felt like ages, in the darkness behind your eyelids, you finally felt his lips connect with yours. A sharp intake of breath was taken on your part due to the shock, and also because of how surprisingly soft he was being. A soft subtle moan vibrated in your throat at the touch and he had to contain the urge to move his lips on yours, wanting to devour you. Your hands itched with the need of grabbing onto him, and it was shocking you because you never felt this. You never felt the need for more. 

Because that’s all you could think about now. More. You wanted more.

He pulled away from you, the peck being only for one or two seconds but to the two of you seemed like minutes. He opened his eyes at the same time you opened yours and he swears that he felt an electric shock run down his body as his pupils connected with yours. Your breaths were mixing with one another, because Eddie was still in your space, noses almost touching.

He pulled away from you, causing you to exhale a deep sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, and he dropped his hand from your cheek. He ignored the lingering burning sensation that was left on his palm as he gazed at you once again, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

“You okay?” He asked you and you could only nod. He chuckled at your reaction and scooted closer, now knees touching. “Alright, your turn.”

Fuck, that made all of your consciousness return to you in one big slap. It was your turn to kiss him. But you could do it right? It was just a peck, just a quick peck. You could do that, it was something fast, just like he did to you. You couldn’t feel your fingers as you raised your hand up to cup his left cheek. You scrunched your eyes closed and leaned in, quick, pulling him as well, but you felt him fight against your grip and you opened your eyes to see him squinting at you.

“What–”

“Slower. If you come at me that fast you are gonna knock our teeth out Angel. Just go slow, no need to be quick.” And there was a part of him that just said that to be able to be in this moment for a little longer. You felt embarrassed at his scolding and you wanted to pull away, feeling completely pathetic and childish for your actions. You took a deep breath in again as you continued to lean in, but this time slower, pulling him towards you in the same manner, gentler and he was content with that.

You closed your eyes when your lips brushed his, and he kept them open just before you pressed your lips to his to look at your face. You weren’t scrunching your eyebrows, or grimacing in pain or discomfort, so he knew you were okay right now. He closed his eyes after a second and you just wanted to stay there. Your lips on his, as your palm rested on his cheek, your nails wanting to dig in his flesh to pull him even closer.

You didn’t know if this would feel like this with every man you would kiss later on, you hoped it did. You hoped this wasn’t just happening with Eddie, because he is just a friend. That’s all he was. A friend helping another friend.

You pulled away after another second, dropping your hand from his face and this time you didn’t gaze towards your lap again. You kept staring at his face, waiting for his eyes to open, your chest now burning for the next move. 

His brown eyes connected with yours again, and he smiled reassuringly at you, as if telling you that you were doing good, that everything was fine, and that you were safe with him at this very moment. You took a deep breath in, giving him a small smile in return, feeling your cheeks aching thanks to the amount of blood that is pooled there.

“Alright… Next is the tricky part. I’m going to move my lips against yours this time. When I kiss your top lip, you kiss my bottom lip, and then the other way around.” You know how kissing works, you’re not an idiot. You have done it before just the way he describes it, but the question always lingered if you were any good at it. If you were too pushy, or too soft, or too slow, or too quick. 

You took a deep breath in to brace yourself, and exhaled, giving him a nod for him to continue. Now, Eddie was almost sweating. He didn’t want to feel that way towards you, but he was still a man, and you were beautiful. A very beautiful woman. So of course his body will react, he just has to remind himself that you are just a friend and that you need help. 

And he is just helping. 

He raised both of his hands up this time and your eyes almost went wide when he cupped your face in between them, getting a sense of feeling trapped but in a good way. The coldness of his rings and the warmth of his palms filled you with a sense of peace. You felt safe. You started hearing a buzz in your ears, knowing it was the intense flow of blood that was going all over your body, as the anxiety in your stomach was almost ripping its way out, wanting to break your skin, or wanting to crawl up into your throat. 

“Lean in with me sweetheart.” He commanded and your eyes were burning, your hands moving towards his knees again, trembling fingers finding the skin in the rips of them, your breathing hitching as you both moved towards one another, his fingers softly getting in between your hair, palms on your cheeks still and you closed your eyes.

He took a gulp, closing his eyes right after you, feeling your nails digging into the skin of his knees, softly scratching at him, almost desperately and he didn’t know if you were eager or nervous, but you were leaning in, and that was a good enough sign for him to press his lips against yours again, this time, with more pressure than before.

Your heart soared, beating wildly but not because of complete nervousness or because you wanted to run away from it, but because you were content. Content because you weren’t sweating out of a panic, content because you didn’t feel like fainting, content because the dizziness you were feeling was because of the rush, the adrenaline, the excitement of it all. 

His lips finally moved on yours, and you let your instincts kiss him back, following his lead. He was being gentle, slow, lips between lips and the smacking of them being heard all over the apartment. Your fingers were gripping on his knees as if your life depended on it, to keep you grounded to earth. There was a part of your brain that was telling you that friends shouldn’t do this, that friends do not kiss each other, not even for practice. 

But maybe those thoughts were wrong, because here you were, and Eddie’s self control was slipping. He wanted to move to the next step, but he wanted to properly warn you, he really wanted to, but with the way you were touching him, and the way you were tenderly moving your lips with his, was slowly but surely making him lose his composure of being a good friend. 

He had to be quick then, because you seemed into it, and if you stopped you might become nervous again and it will take more time for you to prepare yourself. He kept moving his lips on yours, your heads moving from side to side and you felt like you were being kissed like they do in the movies. Romantical and gentle. But something was slowly snapping inside of you, something that was clawing its way back in your throat.

More. You wanted more.

He pulled away but his hands were kept in place, his lips remained over yours as the heavy breathing of each other mixed in between you both. You opened your eyes to meet his, and he saw the hazy look in your eyes, the same look he must be having right now, and you might not even know how you are looking at him, but he knows how he is looking at you. And it was different, different than before. Way different.

“I’m gonna go further now, stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” Before you could even formulate any sentence, think of anything at all, his lips crashed against yours, this time, more forcefully than before, and it shot another feeling inside of you. It was something you didn’t experience before, something that made you magnetized to him, and you cannot pinpoint what name to give it.

You moved your lips against his, following his movements, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise when you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip, gently, asking for entrance. This was the part where your inexperience might show, and you didn’t want to disappoint him, not when he was making you feel like this, not when he was the first person to kiss you like this.

You felt him rub your right cheek gently with his thumb, trying to soothe you down, telling you that you can still stop him. But you wanted anything but that. So despite your guts trying to make you bend over in pain, despite your brain throwing red signs all over to make you run away, and despite your heart beating so fast you were sure he would be able to hear it, you slowly opened your mouth, letting him in.

And he was so grateful for it.

His tongue slowly sneaked in between your lips, meeting with your nervous tongue. He moved, gentle and slow, small swirls which you danced with him harmoniously. He let out a huff of breath through his nose, trying to swallow a grunt because your hands had gone up to grip onto his thighs now, pulling yourself closer to him, and deeper into the kiss.

You were a good kisser, even in your nervousness, even if you told him you didn’t know if you were even doing it right, you smashed all of that in one second. One of his hands went deeper into your scalp, running his fingers through your hair as he felt the temperature of the room start to rise up. Your tongue was magical on him, so tender and delicate, yet he could hear the soft little moans that vibrated in your throat at every harsh movement he did on you. He could feel his pants starting to strain, and he cursed himself for being so easy to rile up, or maybe cursing at himself for wanting to–

The door opening caught both of your attention, your eyes widening as you both pulled away as quickly as you could. Panting heavily as you looked at one another, not even knowing for how long you have been making out with each other. It felt like seconds, but probably minutes had passed. 

“Well, shit, did we interrupt something?” Billy asks with Steve standing next to him with a bag over his shoulder. Your whole body turned red and you squealed as you hid your face in your hands, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole. They saw you. They saw you kissing Eddie. Your friend. Oh god, what will they think? You thought you were an idiot, a very big idiot.

“I uh–” Eddie was at a loss of words and he looked at his friends. He knew you were feeling utterly embarrassed at this moment, so he knew he had to ease the situation up a bit. “We were practicing kissing.” 

And that made you even more embarrassed, your head shooting up to smack Eddie on the arm. Why would he tell them that?! Now they know you have no experience in that department and that Eddie was helping you gain confidence in it. Great. You shook your head, becoming more overwhelmed each second that passed.

“No need to hit me! You are a good kisser, despite what you thought.” Eddie brushed his arm as Billy and Steve walked over to the two of you. You groaned into your hands as you felt the heat of your face transfer onto your palms, and your guts were turning, the feeling of nausea slowly filling your stomach.

“Well, I bet it went better than with Harrington over here.” Billy glared at his friend as Steve blushed all over and pointed at you.

“Dude, she doesn’t need to know about that–”

“Actually…” Eddie begins with an innocent dimpled smile on his face and Steve became red in anger, ready to start going at his best friends but a giggle was heard in the room and they all turned to you.

You were laughing into your hands, and the situation that had mortified you now was making you laugh because of their bantering. They weren’t judging you, not you, nor Eddie because they had been through it. They helped each other out with things that were either weird or too bizarre, yet they did it because they’re friends. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.” You say, as you raise your head up again, locking eyes with Eddie who had a playful glint in them and both of you laughed with each other, or at each other, you didn’t know, but just having this moment with him felt nice, it felt as if nothing had changed. No awkwardness, no weirdness, nothing that makes you feel uncomfortable, or him for that matter. 

He was still Eddie, and you were still you.

“Alright, hang on, I have a question.” Steve suddenly says, putting the bag with clothes down. He was still sweaty from work, his hair back with a small half ponytail. Eddie and you stopped laughing and looked at Steve to keep talking. “My question is, are you fine with kissing someone you trust, or are you fine with kissing men in general?” Your smile dropped at that, the thought being processed in your head.

You didn’t even think about that. What if kissing Eddie was easy, or kind of easy, because you trusted him? What if you were able to just because you can confide that part of yourself to him, because he is your friend? Will that happen with the men you meet?

“What Steve is trying to say is that when you go on a date, you don’t trust each other on the first one, but you might kiss, maybe something else.” He said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, earning a glare from Eddie’s part, and you gazed away from that dirty joke. 

Steve stood there for a second, thinking and then he took out his phone to open his music player and choose a song from there. ‘Stereo Love’ started sounding from the speakers and you winced at the nostalgia of the song, Eddie chuckling at it and Billy simply rolling his eyes. Steve puts the phone on the coffee table and urges you to get up from the couch. 

“Come on, let’s try something.” And you gave Eddie a confused look before doing as Steve says, following him to the middle of the living room as Billy took your place on the couch, dropping himself on it and grunting in relief. Eddie’s eyes were focused on you as you stood in front of Steve.

“Harrington, what are you–” Eddie tried to talk but he was stopped by one look from Steve. His chest was not liking where this was going but he remained quiet as Steve started swaying side to side.

“Okay, so, I imagine that you go to clubs, and guys approach you, right?” He asks and you look down, playing with your fingers as you talk back to him.

“The girls always pushed them away before they could talk to me.” You reply and Steve only scoffs at that and shakes his head. He dances all around you, on your side, behind you, on the other side, as he talks.

“Well, now you will let them talk to you. He is a complete stranger, just coming right up, dancing, and introducing himself.” He stops right in front of you, with a smirk to his face and your eyes slightly widened as his friendly expressions were exchanged by sultry ones. “Do you like this song?”

“Um, a little old but yes, I do.” You responded to him and he just kept the grin to his face as his movements started making him come closer, and closer to you.

“Hi, I’m Steve.” You were already blushing at the roleplaying but he was right, what will happen when you start trying to date someone? You won’t kiss them on the first date? You won’t show your attraction to them? You won’t make a move? 

“Hi, I’m Angel.” You reply with a small smile on your lips and Eddie’s eyes widened. You were flirting, and you were flirting with Steve with a pet name he gave you, and you only. He gulped heavily as you swayed closer to him.

“That’s a very pretty name, just as gorgeous as the bearer of it.” He winks at you and you almost lose your willpower at that. With Eddie was different, way different. It was a different type of nervousness, a different type of adrenaline, a different type of excitement. This was just nervousness.

So maybe, Steve was right. 

Before you could respond, Steve’s lips crashed onto yours, and Billy was studying your body language. You went rigid, frozen, eyes completely wide at the action. He could see the slight bit of paleness starting to drain your cheeks and he was about to call out Steve to pull away, but then your eyes closed, and your lips moved against his.

You noticed the difference with Eddie’s kiss. With Eddie’s, your mind shut off, didn’t even think about anything else and just let yourself feel, feel him, feel his lips on yours, his skin on yours. And now, Steve’s, you were conscious of how your lips were moving, and wondering if you were causing an impression or not.

Steve pulled away after a few seconds to study your face and do a whole check over, before cheering with delight and clapping for you with pride.

“You kissed me back, you didn’t faint, you flirted with me… Yep, you’re cured honey!” Steve says excitedly and you couldn’t help but feel excited with him. It was a big step, a huge change in your life. Even if the nerves were still there, the anxiety was still deep in your belly, and the thoughts sometimes appeared in your head to speak horrible things to you, you finally didn’t let them control your body.

You were finally cracking your shell open.

And as you cheered, you didn’t notice the pair of brown eyes that were looking at you.

“Munson… You’re going to break the cushion.” Billy says, without even looking at Eddie and the metal head looked down at the cushion of the couch, seeing his fist gripping tightly onto it, almost ripping through the fabric, his knuckles a bright shade of white from how hard he was clenching them, rings digging into his fingers. He also noticed the tense movements on his jaw and he realized that he had been clenching it tightly shut since Steve pressed his lips on yours.

Your lips that had his minutes before. Your tongue that danced with him, your body that touched him, his hands that were on you, your body heat invading his, and his jagged breaths invading your mouth. He had you first. 

You were his, first.

You turned to look at Eddie, with a smile on your face and he tried to return the smile to you, fighting the uncomfortable feeling that was happening in his belly, trying to push away all the negative thoughts, but then he remembered the look in your eyes just before he leaned in to kiss you again. He was looking at you in the exact same way, and hope rose in his chest, because the eyes you were looking at him with, were full of lust.

And you might not even know or realize you were looking at him like that. You probably never once felt lustful towards someone. You probably never had that need of wanting someone so badly that you might explode.

But Eddie, Eddie was feeling it right now. He was feeling it alright, and had been feeling it ever since he saw you in that tight purple dress. He felt it when you smiled at him for the first time on video camera. He felt it when you introduced him to your favorite pizza. He felt it when you beat him up in Mario Kart. He felt it when you had called him beautiful. And now, he felt it when he finally had a taste of you.

Oh how he wanted you. 

Eddie really, absolutely, desperately wanted you.

End of part 4

A/N: I really do hope you all enjoyed this chapter, your comments always make me happy... we can all feel the tension building, can't we? Just a peek, next chapter will be spicy.

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