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#it's either that or they say fuck you in a long paragraph
waspstar · 1 year
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allywthsr · 2 months
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WRONG PERSON | (l.norris)
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summary: you send a sexy video to some tinder guy, until you realize you tapped Lando‘s contact instead, you both help the other to finish what you started
wordcount: 2.4k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: smut!, talking about toys, details about masturbation, phone sex, dirtytalk
notes: inspired by this!!! Tell me what you think, I‘m still scared to write smut, hope you all like this🫣
You were working for Quadrant, it wasn’t like you were some important boss or something, you mostly dealt with customers and sometimes got to plan a video, but Lando still took the time and got to know you. When the whole team went out for dinner, Lando talked to everyone for at least twenty minutes, he wanted to know who was working for him and his brand.
There was no denying you found him handsome, everybody thought he was pretty, but you needed to hide your excitement in your panties whenever he was near you. Not only did he make eye contact every time you two talked, but he also smelled delicious, you wanted to rip his clothes off, the whole time he was near you.
But back to where you were now, laying in bed naked, at almost one am, with your phone in your hand. You were single and desperate, texting with guys from Tinder, who were not worth more than a quick fuck, but you were young and had your needs.
With your phone in one hand, and your left boob in the other, you recorded a small video, where you were squeezing your boob and moaned slightly. You‘ve been snapchatting with a guy you met on Tinder, both of you were horny and needed a release, so why not help each other? You quickly wrote a text to the video, to make it more seducing, ’ You make me so wet…‘ and taped on the slot on Snapchat where he was for the last few snaps, before you could double check that you selected him, you hit sent and threw the phone next to you.
While you waited for his answer, your hand slowly made its way to your pussy, circling your wet clit. With a moan, you teased yourself and kept stopping the sensation in your most private area. When you heard the Snapchat notification tone, you took your phone in your hand and only saw that Lando send you a snap, it wasn’t unusual that he would snap you, you two were streaking after all, but at that time was a little odd, because you were kinda bored and waiting for your guy to reply, you withdraw your fingers from your wet cunt and opened Lando’s snap.
With a gasp, you threw away your phone, the first photo was a normal snap, a picture of his bedroom with some series on Netflix playing, but when you tapped on the screen to exit the snap, a new picture popped up. You could see his hand holding his boxershorts clothed dick, he was hard and big, long and thick. He also wrote a little text, you had to read it twice, making sure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, ’was this meant for me, babygirl?‘
You didn’t know what to do, so you did nothing for a few seconds, you didn’t feel horny anymore, suddenly aware of the cold air hitting your still-hot pussy. Should you reply and apologize, saying how you accidentally sent your boss a nude, and look him in the eye at the next dinner? Impossible.
You thought about leaving the country and starting all over again, where no one knew Lando, but that wasn’t a solution either, you had to face him and say that it wasn’t meant for him. But how can you get rid of the image in your head of his dick, the only thing that was roaming through your brain right now was how lucky his future wife would be. With a dick like that, she sure would be happy for the rest of her life.
You excited the snap and took a deep breath, what were you going to say, sorry I send you a nude, but your dick looks nice? No. It took you at least two minutes to think about it and when you took a picture of half your face and started writing a paragraph of apologies, your phone showed you an incoming call.
Lando Norris.
Shit. Your whole body tensed, you couldn’t answer, you just had to pack your things and go, leave London and Lando behind, but something in you didn’t want that, and after what seemed like hours, you did answer the call.
”Hey Lando, look uhm, I‘m sorry I sent you that video, it wasn’t meant for you, obviously. B…But thank you for responding, I mean that picture was nice, but I don’t think that this uhm professionalism between us should be broken. If.. if you want me to leave Quadrant, I‘ll do that.. uhm I’m sorry for sending you that, and I-“
”Y/N, will you stop rambling?“, his voice sounded like he was out of breath, you started shaking when you heard him speak.
”I‘m sorry, for rambling and sending you the video.“
He chuckled, ”Don’t be, maybe you could’ve seen by my response, that I wasn’t mad about it. Sure having your employee suddenly sending you a video where she squeezes her boob and moans, isn’t something I‘d expect, but you have beautiful boobs.“
You didn’t know what to say, so the only thing that came out of your mouth was a: ”Thank you?“, you could hear your heartbeat in your chest, the silence on the other line panicked you.
”But, maybe this is unprofessional of me now, but you left me in a kind of hard situation, Y/N. I bet you’re still wet if your fingers would slide between your legs, aren’t you?“
Your breath hitched, was this for real? Was Lando Norris, your boss, dirty talking to you?
”I..I don’t know, it was a pretty big shock to see you replying, I‘m not as horny as I was ten minutes ago.“
”Then I want you to glide your hand over your boobs and stomach, down to your pussy, I bet it’s pretty, and then tell me how wet you are.“
With a small sigh, you did what he told you, gliding over your boobs and stomach to your pussy, you touched your entrance slightly and felt yourself pulsating, you may not be as horny anymore, but your wetness said otherwise, maybe a part of you already found it hot that Lando actually replied to you.
”Fuck, I‘m so wet Lando.“
You heard a moan from the other line and some sheet rustling, ”Baby, I want you to touch yourself like you would do without me. Finger yourself, rub your clit, do whatever satisfies you. I‘m hard as a rock baby, I need to touch myself too, I wish you were here to do it for me.“
You did as Lando told you, rubbing your clit in circles and feeling yourself come closer to the edge, this whole situation was so hot, it turned you on so badly.
”Please touch yourself, Lando, I wish I was there to help you.“
”I could eat you out until you’re crying and begging me to stop because you would be overstimulated.“
Another moan escaped your mouth and slowly you let your fingers slip into you, which was no problem due to your wetness, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more, thankfully Lando seemed to know what you were thinking when he heard your unsatisfied moans.
”Do you need more baby? Are your fingers not enough, you need my dick to stretch you out?“
You let out whiny and breathy ’yes‘, this situation was so bizarre but hot at the same time.
”Do you have any toys, Y/N? I want you to use a toy on yourself.“
”I..I do.“
”Show me.“
”Can we switch to FaceTime? It’s easier, and I want to see you.“
Lando hummed and muttered a quick goodbye before the screen with the call disappeared, the only thing you could see on your phone now was the picture you took a few minutes ago, and before you could do anything else, the FaceTime call from Lando came in. You answered without thinking about it and you were greeted with a big and girthy dick, and your mouth watered a little. You held the phone up, so he could see your face and your boobs, which he commented with a quiet ’fuck‘.
”Show me your toys, baby.“
You quickly got up and propped the phone against your lamp that stood on the nightstand, while you looked under your bed to fish out the box with your toys. It wasn’t like you were some pornstar and had thousands of toys, but over the years you had collected a fair amount of little helpers.
By now Lando had switched back to his face, so you could see his little beard and his eyes, he kept biting his lower lip, while watching you.
You opened your box and grabbed the first toy you saw, a standard dildo, it was skin-colored and a bit longer and thicker than the normal ones. You showed it to Lando and he groaned, tilting his head back, ”Is that your favorite?“, he asked.
You shook your head and pulled out a pink satisfyer, it was a mixture of a vibrator and dildo, but it also had a clit sucking element. That one was your favorite, you had spent hours with this beauty, and it never left you hanging. ”This is my favorite, you don’t know how good this feels.“
”Tell me about it.“
”It’s so fucking good, Lando. This clit sucking thing? It feels like heaven, it gets me there within a few minutes, the fastest I‘ve ever had an orgasm.“
”I bet I could get you there faster.“
That statement left you with a smirk, only the thought of Lando going down on you, made your head spin, you needed that.
”I can see that you’re imagining it right now, I bet you taste amazing, I would finger you, while lapping at your clit, you would be so full.“
You shut your eyes, and whined, your pussy clenching around nothing.
”What else do you have in there?“
”I have a wand“, you lifted the typical wand and dropped it on the bed, ”I also have a rabbit vibrator, and this“, you lifted another pink vibrator, but this one was smaller.
”You know what this is for, Lando?“
”I‘ve seen it in porn“, he smirked, ”have you ever let someone control it while being somewhere public?“
You nodded, it was a vibrator that you would insert into your pussy and it could be controlled with an app, you‘ve only used it once with someone.
”I was on a date with someone from Tinder, and we‘d been sexting for days and I gave him the app and he controlled it over dinner, it was an experience and I loved it.“
”I want to control it in our next meeting, seeing you tremble over some video ideas is going to be fucking hot.“
Another wave of pleasure rushed through your body, you couldn’t believe you were talking that way with your boss, unbelievable.
”I want you to use that rabbit on you.“
You chuckled, and held the rabbit vibrator into the camera, ”This one?“
Lando nodded eagerly, with a smirk you opened your mouth, dared your tongue out, and licked a long stripe over the part that goes inside of you. After a few licks, you put it fully in your mouth and started sucking it.
You could see how Lando started touching himself again, his eyes closed every now and then and he let out small whimpers. This was your sign that you needed to touch yourself too, so you laid on the bed and flipped the camera to your lower part, where the vibrator was circling your clit. Lando also flipped the camera and you saw his dick that was already leaking pre cum, he moved his thumb over his tip every now and then while moving his cock through his fist, collecting the white fluid. Due to your wetness, the vibrator slipped inside of you with ease, you turned it on and gasped when you felt the vibrations.
”Do you like that? Having your pussy stuffed.“
”Yes, Lando, yes. I need you here next to me.“
”I need you too, wrapped around my cock, you would be screaming and keeping up the neighbors all night.“
With a loud moan, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, the tip edging your clit made you almost scream and the way you moved the vibrator in and out of you, made you see stars. Lando also was about to cum, he saw that your pussy got wetter and wetter, your fluids squeezing out of your cunt every time the vibrator left it.
”I’m about to cum, Y/N. Show me your face, are you cumming soon?“
You moaned loudly again and flipped the camera, just like Lando did, “Yes, Lando, I wish it was you filling me so well.“
With a loud moan and a lot of curses, Lando spilled his cum all over his hand and stomach, he quickly flipped the camera again, now showing you the mess he created, “That’s all for you, baby, I wish it was inside of you instead on the stomach. Cum for me Y/N, let go.“
While he said those words to you, you felt yourself falling over the edge, with moans and grunts. Lando was sure he never heard something so sexy, those sounds alone made him horny again, he needed to feel you close.
When both of you came down from your highs, you two let out a laugh, realizing what you just did, you had phone sex with your boss, but it felt right and good, and the way his cum sat on his stomach, made you horny again, you needed him.
“You feeling better now?“
“Lando, you’ve no idea, so much better than the weird Tinder guy the video actually was for.“
“I bet, but I still need you, Y/N.“
“Are you in London?“
He hummed.
“Well, my bed is cold without you in it, if you want, my pussy is ready for you, Lando.“
“Send me your address, I’ll be over in ten minutes, you better not start without me, or you’ll get punished.“
taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg
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transmascissues · 3 months
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next time someone tries to tell me people don’t demonize and act violently toward trans men and transmascs, i’m just going to make them read this reply i got to a positivity post that was specifically about trans manhood and transmasculinity. this is basically just every negative thing people say no one says about us rolled into one message that’s aimed directly at us.
and as if this isn’t enough on its own, their whole blog is full of this disgusting shit. it seems to be dedicated to it, actually. (fair warning, don’t look at the next two screenshots if you don’t want to see even more genuinely awful transphobia.)
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you can say what you want about how they’re probably just a troll or baiting or doing this for attention but the fact remains that, regardless of their true intentions, these are real things that a real person is saying about trans men&mascs, publicly and proudly and to our faces because they want it to do damage.
i’ve dealt with people like this before, on a much closer level. when i was a teenager, i had a grown woman come into my dms just to send me very graphic and detailed instructions on how to kill myself. literally entire paragraphs with all of the steps she wanted me to take. before i blocked her, i told her she was lucky she sent it to me and not someone more vulnerable, because otherwise she might have real blood on her hands. she just sent the whole thing again.
we can argue all day about infantilization versus demonization, erasure versus hypervisibility, what counts as violence, what words we use to talk about our oppression, and so on. but the reality is, whether you believe people want us dead or not, they clearly do, and a lot of them really aren’t making any effort to hide it. at this point, if you can’t see it, it’s because you don’t care about our lives enough to look at the reality that’s right in front of your face.
before you do anything else, block this person. don’t engage with them directly, don’t give them the satisfaction of the attention they might be fishing for, just block them. but don’t forget that they exist either, especially if you’re not a trans man or transmasc yourself. don’t just block them and move on and forget that there are real people out there who will say these things about us, who genuinely enjoy the thought that their actions might have deadly consequences.
because these are the people you empower to come out of hiding and start being blatant about their hatred when you insist that no one wants us dead, when you openly mock us and demonize us and try to cast us out from the community that we were supposed to share. when even our own people decide we’re an acceptable target, these bigots throw a fucking party because you’ve just told them they can get away with murder as long as it’s our blood on their hands. this particular blog was started recently, and i guarantee it’s not a coincidence that they started it in the midst of a rise in online anti-transmasculinity.
it really is telling, how much hate a positivity post has incited. y’all can’t stand when we talk about the bad things that happen to us, but you hate our happiness even more.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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better late than never
in which uni student fem!reader finally shares exactly what she's been worried about with spencer
18+ for pregnancy scare warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, reader doesn't want to be pregnant, age gap (unspecified) a/n: listennn lots of you guys asked for more spence x uni reader... but u didn't specify WHAT u wanted... so now we're fantasizing about pregnancy scares because we're all what?? say it with me!! MENTALLY ILL!!!!
For the fifth time, you have to restart the paragraph you were reading. For the fifth time, it doesn’t make any sense—words strung together like clashing beads on a dancing string, blurred together by the tears you’ve been fighting all day. Anthropology is by far the easiest of the six classes you’re taking this quarter, but suddenly completing this routine assignment feels like scaling a mountain. It is, of course, nothing in comparison to the catalytic source of your immense stress. The thing you’ve been trying to ignore for nearly a week, and as a result, have become more and more obsessive about. 
A flare of rage overwhelms you and you slam your laptop shut. Then as quickly as it appeared, it dissipates, cooling to desolation as you bury your face in your hands with a sob. You hear paper shuffling from the desk where Spencer has been silently working and you try to reign in your emotions, but it’s too late. 
“Hey,” he says gently as he approaches, slowing to a stop in front of your spot on the couch. “What’s going on with you?”
You sniff, quickly brushing the tears away with trembling hands. But your voice is thick and strained when you fruitlessly attempt to lie. 
“Nothing.”
When you refuse to look up at him, he kneels down in front of you. 
“Really? This doesn’t have anything to do with why you’ve been so quiet these past few days?”
Of course, he noticed. You were a fool for thinking he wouldn’t. Finally you break, looking to him for subconscious comfort. And he’s looking up at you so earnestly, with so much genuine concern in those puppy dog eyes, that the waterworks threaten to start up all over again. Your lip quivers. 
“I can’t tell you,” you squeak. 
“That’s a really scary thing for me to hear. Do you understand why?” His voice is calm, carefully grabbing your hand and bringing to his heart. “Because I need to know if something happened to you.”
You shake your head tearfully, looking down at where you’re weakly grasping the front of his shirt. 
“‘s not like that,” comes your reedy whisper. “Nobody hurt me or anything, I just—I don’t want you to get mad at me.”
“I won’t get mad, I won’t,” he promises desperately, “right now I just want to know what I can do to make this better. I hate seeing you like this.”
A shuddering sigh forces its way out of your lungs. You suppose this is the kind of thing you probably should tell your boyfriend about, as petrifying as it may be.  
“I don’t know, I… I’ve just been freaking the fuck out because I’m worried I’m pregnant, and this would be the worst possible timing—like I know I want kids one day but I’m still in college and you’re like a real adult with an adult career and I don’t want to fuck that up for you and I know that even if I am pregnant I have choices but that’s still so scary and… and I don’t know.”
You’re expecting a long pause, punctuated by some berating and bemoaning, but it never comes. Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Honey, this is exactly the kind of thing you tell me about,” he says, voicing your earlier thoughts. And he doesn’t even sound furious. You glance up, watching his visage swim beyond your teary eyes. “I am not mad. That wouldn’t make any sense. Do you know who’s fault it would be if you accidentally got pregnant?”
“Well—"
“Mine. So if this ever happens again, please don’t keep it to yourself for so long. I won’t be mad at you for something like this, ever.”
“But… you’re not worried?”
He shakes his head slowly, looking utterly unperturbed. 
“I wouldn’t be worried either way. But no, I’m not concerned that you’re pregnant. We’re really safe. The chances of you being pregnant are essentially negligible.”
“But I’m two weeks late.”
“That can happen when you’re taking six upper level classes,” he agrees, swiping your cheek with a thumb. “You’re under a lot of stress. I’m completely unsurprised that your body is reacting to it.”
A weight like a ton of bricks is lifted from your shoulders, but doubt still lingers. 
Spencer sees the hesitation in your eyes. 
“Would it make you feel better to take a test? Just in case?”
You nod gingerly, wrapping your hand around his wrist. He takes it in both of his, kissing the back before dropping them to your lap. 
“Okay. I’ll go get a couple. But I’m confident that you have nothing to worry about, and I’m usually right about these things.”
You take another deep breath, the last of the anxiety floating away with it. He’s usually right about everything. 
“Spence?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing your palm with his thumb and looking at you with so much love in his eyes. 
“Do you maybe feel like doing my homework for me?”
He smiles. 
“Nice try. Get it done and we can go out for dinner, okay?”
“Always worth a shot,” you shrug. 
He laughs, shaking his head as he stands. 
“And the answer will always be no.”
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just-a-creep-babe · 2 months
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A Demon’s Ache — Part 19
Eyeless Jack x Reader
A Demon's Ache Masterlist
Dedicated to @cookiereblogss --- tysm for all the support you've provided, this series wouldn't be here without you <333
Requests are closed but commissions are open!
Masterlist: x
Just like always, parting from you is difficult
He’s helped you clean up after everything’s been said and done, but even then, he just can’t bring himself to leave
He doesn’t want to abandon the warmth of your body, doesn’t want to abandon the indulgence of your scent surrounding him
And he can almost trick himself into believing it’s mutual
Your gaze lingers on him for a split second longer than usual, and your lips part, almost as if you want to say something
Jack’s never really been a religious man, but he’d pray to every god under the sun if it meant you’d stay with him
Tell me to stay, tell me you want me as badly as I want you
But then you press your lips back together, like you’ve reconsidered your words, and part of his black heart shrivels up and dies just a little bit more
“I should get back to my room,” you say, and when you bite your lip as you say it, all he can think about is kissing you until you’re both dizzy all over again
He swallows thickly, nodding
He wants to say something, but he can’t think of the right words
Tension mounts, filling the sparse distance between you
He can’t bring himself to move
And, from the very first moment he met you, he’s almost always felt like there was something pulling him towards you
But right now, that feeling’s amplified tenfold, and God, the mere thought of parting from you is nauseating
More
All he can think about is how badly he wants more of you
He’s so fucking hopeless
He’s about to lean in to kiss you again, acting purely on some base impulse within him
But then, you blink, as if snapping yourself out of some trance
And you mumble out an excuse, turn away, and leave him behind again
He has to fight every ounce of his being screaming at him to follow you
A few minutes later, he’s lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying his hardest not to think about going to your room
It’s pointless, he knows it is
With one final breath, he sighs, summons the willpower to get up, and tries to find a way to make himself useful
He avoids the hallway that leads to your room, instead opting to take the longer route to the library
Doing research is going to help keep his mind off things, he thinks
Well, it’s either going to distract him, or make things even worse by reminding him of what he did to you
But, at this point, he’s willing to try almost anything to stop overthinking
The warm smell of old books greets him as he enters the familiar room
Rows and rows of imposingly large bookshelves press up against the walls, each of them holding hundreds of colourful books—novels, encyclopedias, bibliographies, scientific studies—whatever topic you could possibly want to read about is kept in this very room
Despite being what could almost be considered the “heart” of the mansion, however, it’s almost always empty
And today is no exception
Jack takes in a deep breath, enjoying the honeyed scent of aged paper and the intimacy of the large empty space
He takes a second to orient himself amongst the rows of information, and then it doesn’t take long for him to find the section on all things demonic anatomy
As soon as he gets settled into his research, he doesn’t notice the time going by
And every time his thoughts drift back to you, he forces his attention back to the task at hand
All he allows himself to focus on are the paragraphs upon paragraphs explaining the compositions of demons
Mating rituals, sexual reproduction, anatomical differences, cultural and generational distinguishers—
He knew the demonic world was complex, but he never realized just how complex it really is
He ends up with a pile of heavy books stacked up next to him at a secluded table
Finding specifics is more difficult than he realized it’d be, especially because he doesn’t exactly know where he fits into things
Does he classify as possessed? A cross-breed? Some kind of undead?
He knows the very basics of what the cult was trying to summon when they created him, but clearly, they didn’t know the ritual properly, or it wasn’t a functional ritual, because he’s damn sure they weren’t planning on ending up with whatever he is now
He’s a fucking walking abomination because of those incompetent assholes
After what feels like arduous hours of research, he only finds anything useful in a mere two of the books he’d initially pulled out
And with his limited information on the specifics of his “breed,” he only manages to gather a couple of points that might be relevant
One; mating marks are much less common between a human and a demon, so both the available information and known effects are even more limited to begin with
Two; the intensity of a mark’s effect generally reach their peak anytime within the first to fourteenth day, and it gradually stabilizes after anywhere between three months to a whole year
Three; the intensity of the effects further depend on the type and strength of the demon, which, while useful to know, is ultimately a null point because, again, Jack’s a fucking abomination of a monster
Four; there are no known ways to reverse the effects of a mark
Reading that fourth point leaves a bad taste in his mouth, but he tries not to dwell on its implications too much
Finally, the fifth point; because shared marks between humans and demons aren’t common, depending on the type and strength of the demon, there’s a high likelihood of the human not surviving the initial peak of the effects—which, again, makes cataloguing the anomaly all the more difficult
That last point is all he can take before snapping the book shut
Fuck
Fuck fuck fuck
He stands, his thoughts racing a mile a minute
He’s about to rush back to you to make sure you’re ok, but as soon as he takes that first step, he stops dead in his tracks
Wait
What’s he supposed to say—he fucked up and bound you to an eternal arrangement, without your consent, and now there’s a chance it’ll fucking kill you?
The implications of it all crash into him like a tidal wave, and he suddenly feels like he’s drowning in a million and one thoughts—each one worse than the last
How badly did he fuck up?
He doesn’t realize how hard his heart’s pounding or how quickly he’s breathing until the room starts to feel like it’s shrinking around him, and he’s not sure if he’s about to puke or pass out
Keep it together, keep it together for her sake
He swallows thickly
Deep breath in, deep breath out
After years of managing his instincts, he, at the very least, has gotten decent at controlling himself when his emotions spiral
Deep breath in, count backwards from ten, deep breath out
It’s ok, he’ll figure something out, he tells himself, and he doesn’t know if he’s blatantly lying to himself, but it doesn’t matter right now, anyways
Right now, he needs to think clearly
He needs a plan
He doesn’t know how much longer he stays at the library, either pacing back and forth, wrestling his frantic thoughts, or standing deathly still with his sight zeroed-in on the books splayed out on the table
It’s like he just can’t think of anything useful—his mind’s a fucking mess
He’s too tense, too high-strung to think properly
He needs to calm down if he wants to get anywhere productive, he realizes
He pauses one last time to weigh his options
And then he blows out a frustrated breath of air, picks up the useful books, and heads out of the library
Straight to his room, he dumps the books on his desk, leaving them open to re-read later, then heads out of the mansion
He tries not to think about you, but it’s just about impossible to stay distracted for more than a few minutes at a time
He registers that it’s dark and cloudy outside when he steps out, but he’s otherwise too absorbed in his own thoughts to focus on his surroundings any more than that
Hunger
If there’s any feeling strong enough to compete with the thought of you, it’s his hunger
He lets it take over, lets himself surrender to his baser instincts, and the rest of the night is basically a blur
You still resurface in and out of his mind, but whenever he sinks his teeth into that squirming human flesh, the sweet burst of blood filling his mouth snaps him out of it all over again
He’s not proud of what he does, but in the heat of the moment, he’s too indulgent to care
He’ll regret it in the morning
He always does
Surely enough, by the time the sun is creeping along the horizon, he’s satiated, yet nauseous with guilt
He returns to the mansion, makes his way to his room, and almost immediately collapses into bed
He’s filthy, covered in dried bits of blood and gore, but that’s a problem for future Jack
Having spent most of his energy, he expects to pass out as soon as his head hits the pillow, but sleep doesn’t come so easily
Instead, he simply lays there in the dark, waiting
And, waiting one minute turns into fifteen, then fifteen minutes turn into half an hour, and before he knows it, the hours are slowly but surely trickling by and he just can’t seem to fall asleep
A dull ache of exhaustion settles in his now-sore muscles
He huffs, rolling over, trying not to let the thought of you permeate his mind yet again
But he just can’t help it
How could he live with himself if something happened to you—how could he live knowing he’s the one who killed you?
He can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen; he needs to confront you and figure things out
But first, he really needs a shower
He gets up, grabs a towel and a change of clothes, and makes it to the nearest bathroom
He throws his shirt off over his head, yanks his filthy pants down, then steps into the shower and lets the warm water wash away his sins
He stands there, motionless, for a few minutes as the water running off his body turns from black, to red, then almost pink as the mess of gore is rinsed off
He grabs the soap, runs it over his ashen skin, and tries to think of a way to broach the subject
He’ll have to be open, honest and genuine; no bullshit, no hesitation, no leaving any information out
And if you hate him for it, then that’s that
It’s not like he wouldn’t deserve it, anyways
Even if you come to loathe every fibre of his being, he needs to stay level-headed enough to handle it
He needs to find some kind of solution with you; he’ll do anything to fix his mistake
The more he thinks it through, the more he’s able to rationalize things
He still feels like total and absolute shit for what he’s done, but at least now, he feels somewhat more in control of himself—at the very least
He finishes rinsing off the remaining soap, steps out, wraps a towel around himself, and returns to his room to get dressed
One last look at the demonology books splayed open on his desk is all it takes for him to finally straighten himself up and head out his room to find you
He doesn’t know what time it is, and he’s too lost in thought to remember to check, but he knows you’re not in your room anyways
Like a strange sixth sense, he feels a tug pulling him towards the kitchen, almost as if there was an invisible string guiding him right towards you
And, surely enough, there you are, sitting at the table with a warm mug of coffee between your hands
On instinct, he takes in a deep breath—and that’s when he smells it
He freezes, stopping dead in his tracks
Feeling someone in front of you, you look up from the coffee between your hands, and your eyes lock with his
Every muscle in Jack’s body tenses
There’s no way, there’s no fucking way
He takes another deep breath—just to check, just to see if somehow got the wrong impression
But there’s no denying it, no masking the scent
Hoodie and Masky—their odour is all over you
He almost doesn’t know what to think
Those fuckers
Those fuckers slept with his mate
“Jack—“
You say his name, but he doesn’t even hear it over the blistering rage pumping through his system
Something within him snaps
The demon takes over again
And all he can suddenly think about is one thing
Kill
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hedgehog-moss · 7 months
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I've received some absolutely deranged anons since reblogging that post saying celebrating mass slaughter of civilians is fucked up no matter what. One ask saying "wtf are you talking about, no one is celebrating anything, people think Israel is the victim as always" was sandwiched between two other asks, one cheering for genocide, one confused and uncertain as to whether or not going house to house slaughtering entire families is always a bad thing. Not using the word genocide lightly btw, the first ask was like "death to colonizers, all colonizers should die, there are no civilians in Israel, the death toll should have been higher." Another ask was 3 paragraphs that amounted to a clearly satisfied "reap what you sow." What did the murdered babies sow exactly? Or the abducted grandma who was a lifelong peace activist, who regularly drove people from Gaza to Jerusalem for medical care? I've seen lots of such comments in the notes of one post the other day, bonkers levels of dehumanising antisemitism, which was what prompted me to reblog a post by someone with a moral compass.
For a lot of progressive social media 'activists' the question of whether or not to condemn child murder is a really complex moral dilemma when it's being done by the right oppressed group or, let's be honest, if it's Jewish children being murdered for a good cause. It's repulsive. The idea that you can "side" with the children trapped in Gaza subjected to war crimes by hesitating to condemn war crimes against children on the other side is repulsive. The adults at that music festival and in surrounding villages didn't deserve to be massacred either but it's hard not to keep focusing on the children in the process of desperately trying to find a line in the sand with people who claim to care about justice. I wasn't going to make any more posts because the last thing social media needs is more unaffected people giving their 2 cents on this topic, but yeah I'll just say, if your moral stance is that being oppressed and persecuted long enough gives you the right to fight for your land at any cost, including costs borne by innocent children, then you are ideologically aligned with Israel's current government. Not everything is justifiable if done by / to the "right" people in the "right" circumstances. Look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself what absolute (not relativistic, not contingent on context, incentives, or purpose) moral values you hold—any at all—if you can't draw a line in the sand with "rape" and "child murder" always on the other side of it.
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onceuponastory · 7 months
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one single word - bucky barnes x reader
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Plot: In a world where the first thing your soulmate says to you is somewhere on your body, Y/N soon realises that hers is not what she expected... or what she wants. (Soulmate!AU). Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Just some swearing and reader worrying she's going to end up alone. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is my piece for @lunarbuck's Soulmate AU writing challenge! Congrats on 2k! Also can't believe it took me so long to use a pic of Seb from this day because he looked SO GOOD. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.
“Has your word shown up yet? Just got mine!” Wanda’s text comes in. Groaning, Y/N types back a reply.
“Yup.” Immediately, Wanda sends another.
“It’s that bad? I’ll be straight over.” She promises, and Y/N goes back to staring at herself in the mirror, unable to tear her gaze away from the word which is now on her side. From a young age, Y/N and everyone else in this world were told that when they got older, the first words their soulmate said to them would soon appear on their body somewhere, disappearing only when they met the soulmate in question. And of course, it led to a lot of excitement and nervous apprehension as people wondered what words would be there, and imagined what scenario they’d meet their soulmate in. 
None more so than Y/N. As she grew up, she became an author, which meant that writing loving words about others became her job, and something she now has a huge amount of experience in. All day every day, she writes paragraph after paragraph of people describing how beautiful their partners are, how much their heart beats whenever they’re around, and how they want to spend the rest of eternity with them. And the entire time, Y/N’s own soulmate is in the back of her mind, as well as her hope that their first meeting is as romantic as her stories. So obviously, Y/N had grown to expect that the words - her words - that her soulmate would end up having on their skin would be something beautiful, like poetry.
Unfortunately for Y/N, though, it seems her soulmate didn’t have the same consideration for her.
Because there, on her side, emblazoned in huge letters is one single word. “Fuck.” “It’s not that bad.” Wanda soothes as she studies the word. Thankfully, she showed up soon after receiving Y/N’s text for moral support. 
“Yes, it is! Today I wrote someone saying their lover’s eyes are as bright as the stars, and with them they feel whole. And do I get that? No, I get ‘Fuck!’”
“Maybe he’s saying ‘Fuck.’ but then he says ‘you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen’?”
“Or it could be ‘fuck’ because they stepped on my toes. Or maybe they dropped coffee on me? Or-” Y/N shakes her head, trying to shake herself out of her panic. Yet, it only intensifies. “And besides, it’s such a general word! What if I get confused and think someone else is my soulmate?”
“That isn’t going to happen. Personally, I think we have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.”
“You’re such a romantic, Wanda.”
“Says you.” She rolls her eyes. When Y/N freaks out a little again, Wanda shushes her with a gentle: “Calm down. You’re going to give me a headache at this rate. And besides, it could be worse! Mine is ‘Hello there’. What even is that?!” she groans, taking another sip from her drink.
“Oh please, yours is suave and sophisticated.” Y/N argues. “Maybe it’s a ‘Hello there.’” She mimes a smirk, looking Wanda up and down. “And then he says, ‘may I just say that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?’”
“Either that or they’re doing a horrendously bad Obi-Wan Kenobi impression.” Wanda counters, making her and Y/N dissolve into fits of giggles. “But seriously. You don’t know what causes him to say that. Nobody does. That’s the beauty of soulmates.” She grins reassuringly. “And besides, I’m sure it’ll be a funny story to tell your kids one day.” 
And for a while, her reassuring words worked, and Y/N's feelings about the word permanently inked onto her side improved slightly. But the longer time went on without meeting her soulmate, Y/N started to think they don’t exist at all. And what’s worse, she’d be stuck with this single word on her side for the rest of her life, an enduring reminder of her failure to find her true love.
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A few months later,
Y/N walks down the street, preoccupied by her phone call. Her publisher has been ringing her almost every day this week, desperate to know when they can expect her next manuscript. The same manuscript that’s been sitting incomplete on her laptop for the last several months. Understandably, love hasn’t been high on the list of Y/N’s priorities ever since she realised what her soulmate’s first word to her was. 
When she catches sight of herself in a shop window, noticing the hem of her sweater has ridden up, exposing the k and most of the c of the word on her side, it makes her feel worse. Of course, she still hasn’t found her soulmate. Nothing like yet another reminder of how you’re failing in life. Quickly rolling down her sweater, covering the word that seems to be burned into her skin by this point, Y/N keeps walking. In a last-ditch attempt to find some productivity and get this fucking manuscript finished, she’s decided to visit her favourite coffee shop. That and she just really wants an iced coffee. 
“When…if I ever find my soulmate, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.” She huffs, reaching out to grab the door handle to the coffee shop. Before she can open it, the door slams open, almost hitting her in the face. Luckily, Y/N manages to dodge the figure that almost crashes into her. This is the last fucking thing she needs right now. She rounds on the man, ready to give him a piece of her mind, to ask him, no, demand that he looks where he’s going next time, and be careful!
That’s what she wanted to say. What she should’ve said.
The beautiful pair of blue eyes she suddenly finds herself staring into stops her. As blue as the sky on a gorgeous summer's day, as blue as the ocean, inviting her into their depths. This man is gorgeous. His muscles bulge out through the blue shirt (the same colour as his eyes) he has opened over a vest top. His brunette hair is pulled into a man bun, a few loose tendrils sticking out. The man’s eyes widen as he takes her all in, realising how close he came to spilling his coffee all over her. 
And then he speaks.
“Fuck.” He murmurs, his voice just loud enough for her and only her to hear. Immediately, Y/N registers her heartbeat stop.
“What did you just say?” She gasps. Instead of repeating his words, the man’s eyes widen even more, almost bulging out of his head. He rolls down the sleeve of his shirt, displaying the slowly fading words printed on his shoulder. 
“What did you just say?”
“Does yours say ‘fuck’, by any chance?” The man chuckles, still clearly in shock, and wordlessly, Y/N nods, lifting her sweater to show him.
“Oh, my god.” They both speak at the same time. The man holds a hand out, which Y/N shakes. “I’m Bucky. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Nervously he rubs the back of his neck, and Y/N notices a burst of pink spreading across his cheeks. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous?” He stammers a little. “Sorry, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to say right now. It’s not everyday you meet your soulmate.”
“We have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.” Wanda’s words echo in her mind, and Y/N’s shock turns into a smile, all thoughts of giving her soulmate a piece of her mind gone as quickly as the word on her side. At first she brushed Wanda’s words aside, but she’s actually totally right. Being with Bucky, it finally feels right. Like the missing pieces she’s spent so long looking for are finally in place.
“I know.” Y/N nods. “But it’s completely understandable. To be honest, I’m still in shock too. I’m Y/N by the way.” 
"Y/N." Bucky smiles.“I am sorry for almost spilling my coffee over you.” He chuckles, and Y/N giggles. 
“Already forgotten about.”
“I, um, I need to head off, but how about we grab some dinner tonight?” Bucky grins. “We have a lifetime to catch up on.” 
“Sounds wonderful.” Y/N smiles.
It may not have been the most perfect meeting… at least, not compared to her romance novels, but Y/N doesn’t care. Because it turned out to be perfect for her.
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eddiernunson · 8 months
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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18 +
Previous Part | Master List | Next Part
Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing and spit balling ideas and giving feedback.
Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spit balling ideas and fueling my ego &lt;3
I have no idea where this story or be without either of you girls. Or me, for that matter.
Word count: 16.6k
Warnings: Degradation/praise, light use of sir without any discussion, light hunter/prey play, crying while fucking (eddie), and a whole steddie story at the start. Lots of talk of their future in this part.
Author's note: When I say I am blown away by the reception of this fanfic, wholeheartedly mean it. Any word of kindness you have given just fueled the fire in me. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and exploring where the story will take us.
Due to some worry in the comments from last part I will clear this up: Neither Eddie nor Reader will be cheating, they're it for one another. Steve is here as a long time friend, someone with a wife and kids at home.
That being said, thank you so much, I really do appreciate it.
edit: somehow the first paragraph was missing? all fixed.
About 26/27 Years Ago:
At the failure of both their university careers, Steve and Eddie both dropped out within weeks of one another. This was unplanned, neither one of them knowing as they went back to Hawkins to a mini reunion. They agreed to meet one another for a drink, just the two of them, where Steve kindly asked how Eddie’s schooling was going, to which Eddie answered sheepishly that he had dropped out. Steve let out a bark of laughter, laughing through his response that he had also dropped out.
The mutual sigh of relief waved over them both, the two of them grateful they wouldn’t be receiving that same damn look of pity again. Their conversation then flowed into ease; the embarrassment was no longer there for either of them. Since they both dropped out, they each had found a dead-end job to make their ends meet while they figured out their next move.
Simply, they were at the exact same spot in life. This would be reoccurring for them over the next few years, finding their wives within the same six-month span, and both Arlo and Dylan being born within a year of one another. It’s no wonder why they became so close.
Steve had a crazy idea in their third hour in the bar booth, a little bit buzzed. “Dude. We should go to Vegas.”
Eddie wrinkled his eyebrows, completely thrown off by the suggestion. “What?”
“C’mon, Vegas! Our jobs both suck, and we’re the only ones who actually understand each-other’s shituations.”
Eddie sighed and took another sip of his beer. “Fuck it, let’s go.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“When?”
“Now!”
Eddie nearly spit out his beer, looking at Steve like he was crazy. “Now?”
“Dude. I still have my parents’ credit cards. They’re too lazy to actually cut me off.” Steve’s words were a bit slurred, holding up the many black cards.
Eddie downed his beer; the financials were his number one reason not to go. If this was gonna be on the Harrington’s dime, you best believe he would take full advantage of his friend’s shitty parents’ money.
Halfway through their first bus, Steve and Eddie started to sober up and wondered if it was a good idea. Too late, they were already four hours away. It took a total of 31 hours of driving on the road and about six different buses, but they finally made it to Nevada with nothing but the shirts on their backs and delirious glee.
The first two days they spent gambling and shooting the shit, both nights staring up at the bodies of women with numerous dollar bills in string thongs. (Eddie will omit this part when he tells it to you, for your own sanity’s sake.) On the third night, as Steve was a bit more drunk than the previous two, Eddie found a strong ass strain of weed on the strip and was a bit stoned. One of them managed to convince the other that finding girls to hook up with was the good idea.
They both went on with their night, keeping an eye out for any girl they could prospect. Even with a few conversations with some girls, they both came up short. Hooking up with women who were also running away from their problems was a bad idea.
Steve found a girl, but soon realized she was a dud when she made fun of Eddie’s bandana wrapped around his head. Eddie came up to Steve as she rolled her eyes and stomped off. Jesus. As he rested on the bar, he noticed something he wondered if he had imagined the whole three days they were there. Eddie’s eyes lingered on him, checking him out not-so-subtly. Steve leered on Eddie’s soft pink lips for too long for Steve to confidently tell himself he was not interested. His eyes raked down Eddie, taking in everything, subconsciously licking his lips. Having these thoughts, he realized Eddie was talking to him the entire time and he didn’t take in a single word.
“Well, that was a bust. C’mon. Let’s go get our sleep, we’re spending the next two days bussing home.” Steve yanked Eddie by the sleeve of the gift shop shirt he got up to the hotel elevator.
Eddie wandered into the bathroom when they got to their room and when he came out, he saw Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, legs out and leant back on straight arms. Eddie chuckled nervously. As dorky as it was, Steve looked fantastic in the makeshift gift shop outfit he had gotten himself.
“Steve?” He asked, hesitantly walking towards him.
An uncontrollable huff of laughter left Steve’s mouth, he stood up to face Eddie, accidentally meeting him only inches away from his face. It was a flicker. Only a flicker. A flicker of Eddie’s eyes looking directly to Steve’s lips, and Steve couldn’t help but smile. “You know, Eddie. If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide, the panic in his face was clear. “I-I…” He stuttered, his breathing picked up exponentially in the last two minutes and the air in the hotel room was thick.
Steve gently placed one hand on Eddie’s cheek bone, slowly caressing it as to calm the nerves he could tell were radiating off Eddie. He smiled, glancing down very obviously to Eddie’s mouth to ask for permission. Eddie nodded the tiniest goddamn nod in the world and nearly blacked out when Steve’s lips came rushing for his own.
When their lips met, Eddie moaned into it, moving to someone’s bed, he couldn’t tell nor did he care which, and let Steve fall on top of him.
The kisses were messy, clothes were thrown all over the hotel room, and the sex was rough and giggly, but desperate.
And only one time, they decided as they woke up on opposite sides of the bed, laughing at the sheer absurdity that filled the air as they were both wrapped in white sheets.
-
“Uh, Eddie? It’s for you… his name is Steve Harrington?” Eddie pauses, in the middle of hanging a sweater in what seems to be the designated spot for knitwear. A quick assessment tells you that you now have more sweaters than you need, observing them all hung delicately by his hands.
“No way.” Eddie mutters, a smile slowly creeping up on his face. He jogs right past you to the hallway and down the stairs, the quick thumping of his feet loud in the silence of the house.
Your brain takes a moment to catch up to you, following Eddie’s lead back down the stairs. As the front entrance comes into view halfway down the stairs, you see the two men wrapped up in a genuine embrace, arms flexed as they hug one another. They separate, but not by much, maintaining only a few feet between them.
“You didn’t tell me when you were coming!” Eddie accuses playfully, patting Steve on his shoulder.
Steve’s hands are on his hips, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, I ended up coming 2 weeks early.”
“No shit, hey?” Eddie leans back, crossing his arms.
They fall into a conversation so easily that their comfort with one another radiates off them. You would be offended Eddie hasn’t introduced you to him yet if it weren’t for their entertaining back and forth with one another.
“How long have you two known each other?” You mistakenly interrupt them, cutting off the conversation.
“Uh, since high school.” Eddie answers, elbowing Steve.
Steve’s eyes widen deliriously, jerking back at the neck. “Uh, try Jr. High.” He laughs. “Eddie here was the new kid.” He seems to laugh at the memory of young Eddie. Man, you’ll need photographic proof. “The weird-o new kid.”
“Oh, sorry my mom abandoned me, Steve.” Eddie laughs, not a lick of remorse behind it. You gulp, your heartstrings pulled at his throwaway comment.
“Abandonment issues can forgive weirdness only for so long, Eddie.”
“Yeah, but I got it renewed fifteen years ago. Didn’t even have to ask, she just did it for me.”
There’s a moment of silence until they break into laughter, poking fun at one another.
“I’m so sorry, who’s this?” Steve gestures to you, walking over to where you’re standing by the stairs.
“Oh, I’m Y/N.” You hold your hand out to him, somewhat nervous to be meeting someone who’s known Eddie for so long. Decades long before you were even born.
Steve’s hand meets yours and shakes it gracefully, his kind chocolate brown eyes meeting yours. “He paying you well?”  You’re not sure how to answer this, your hand still holding Steve’s as you and Eddie give another a look of confusion. “Oh, sorry. You must be Dylan’s girlfriend! Where is he off to, anyway?” Steve lets go of your hand.
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember I told you I was seeing someone?” You smile to yourself under the mere indication that Eddie talked to someone about you.
Steve nods, remembering the life in Eddie’s voice when he called. “Yep.”
Eddie points to you, gesturing multiple times until Steve finally gets the hint. “Oh…oh. Oh!” Steve’s hands move back to his hips, his eyes switching back and forth between you and Eddie quickly. “But she’s a child.” Steve deadpans, pointing to you and furrowing his brows at Eddie.
Eddie chuckles, placing his arm around you as Steve takes it in. You’re slightly offended on your own behalf at the prospect of being called a child. Eddie places a kiss on your temple to ease the tension, making you melt into it. “No, she’s not.”
You tilt your head back at Eddie, giving him a sleepy smile, eyes half closed. He kisses you as if to put the final nail in the coffin in any disbelief Steve might’ve had. You breathe deeply as he pulls away, and goddamn, did you have a long day today.
“Wait until Robin hears you’re dating someone half your age.” Steve muses, shaking his head. “She’s gonna have a field day.”
“Wait till she hears we’re already shacked up.” Eddie jokes, bringing you to the couch and therefore leading Steve as well.
As you sit down on the couch, you cuddle into him, head laying down on his chest. Steve asks how his shop is doing, to which Eddie gives the run down on the nicest cars he’s seen and a customer’s hunk of junk he couldn’t believe was still driving around. Steve explains the logistics of his job, and by the tone of Eddie’s voice, you could tell he had no idea any of what Steve was saying, but he was being supportive in tone, nonetheless.
“How are the kids?” Eddie asks, and you watch as Steve’s eyes light up in response.
“Oh, they’re great.”
“How old are they?” You ask, a tad curious.
“Uh, Arlo is 24, Nick is 17, Dustin is 15, and Eliza is 4.” Steve riles off, letting his head fall back on the couch. Damn, he sure didn’t look like a dad of four.
“Is Eliza 4 already?” Eddie asks, shaking his head.
“Sure is.” Steve answers, bringing out his phone. He unlocks it, and presumably goes into his photos until passing it over to you and Eddie. “Here. This was from yesterday.”
“Awww.” You let out, seeing the image of a little girl with Steve’s curls playing on a water mat.
“Oh, aww” Eddie lets out, laughing through it. Eliza is adorable, that much is clear. But as you look up at Eddie scrolling through a few of the photos of Eliza playing in the water, the hearts in his eyes are undeniable. He laughs softly at them, as if he can’t get enough of any of the photos. As Eddie passes the photos with his praises of Eliza, a stirring gut feeling sits there, a feeling you’ve been proud that you’ve been able to hold off with Eddie already having a grown child.
Goddamn, you wanted to have this man’s babies. Or at least, baby. The idea of him looking this sweetly at a child you made together invades your heart and makes you squirm on his chest a bit. You lean off his chest, afraid of these strong feelings of wanting this much of a future with him; it was a little scary. “I’m sleepy. Been a long day, I’m gonna go take a nap.”
“Alright, here.” He gets up with you, taking your hand and walking you around the couch. “Be right back, Steve.”
Eddie goes up the stairs to your room, escorting you to your now shared bed. Last week it had dark grey sheets. Now it has your favourite yellow daisy-themed sheets that Eddie insisted upon using. You lie down, still thinking of the way his eyes lit up and the smile that took over his face from the pictures. It made something stir in you. You were exhausted from your long day, that was no lie, but needed the excuse to leave before you did something crazy.
Like riding him on the couch. (And begging for his babies)
“Have a good sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” He kisses your forehead, soft and sweet. “Love you.”
“Love you.” You mutter through your breath, eyes already closing.
-
You’re already fast asleep by the time Eddie closes the door. As he reaches the bottom of the steps, Steve looks up at him expectantly, his brow slightly furrowed. He’s concerned, and to be fair, he has a reason to be. “So, we’re dating 20-year-olds, now?”
Eddie bites his tongue from correcting your age. “I guess you could say that.”
“What is this, some sort of midlife crisis? Get a red sports car, not someone who beats my oldest by months, hell your kid by months. I mean, come on, man. Use your brain.” Steve taps his shoulder on the last sentence, surely thinking he’s putting Eddie’s head back on right. However, Eddie just sits through the lecture without defending himself so he can say his piece when the time comes. “I-I mean where did you even find her, on her way to school?”
The front door slams. Dylan’s home. “Dad, am I tripping or is Uncle Steve’s car out front—Hey!” He cuts himself off, jogging toward them as soon as he sees Steve on the couch. Steve stands up to give him a tight hug, having known Dylan since the day he was born. “What’re you doing here?”
“Came by for a visit, turns out your dad’s having a midlife crisis.”
Dylan’s brows pinch together as he glances around Steve to Eddie for clarification. Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to know a single thing Steve was talking about. “What, did he get a sports car or something? He says they look pretty but they’re not made to last.”
“No, no. I was talking about his pretty new girlfriend.” The pang of possessiveness that hits Eddie in the chest is unprecedented for Steve just calling you pretty.
Dylan hardly holds in his laughter, walking into the kitchen before a full-on laugh escapes his throat. Steve stares off at him, glancing at Eddie and clearly asking, what the hell is wrong with that boy? Dylan makes himself calm down, coming back into the living room with a shit eating grin on his face. “So did he tell you how they met?”
“N-no.” Steve hesitates based on the grin on his face.
“He hasn’t let me get that far, yet.” Eddie chimes in, looking a little cozy as he settles into the couch. You were right, it has been a long ass day.
“I’m gonna tell him.” It wasn’t a threat per se, Dylan just wanted to watch the panic in his dad’s eyes.
Eddie lifts his head off the back pillow of the couch, having been looking up at the ceiling. “He’s gonna find out eventually. I was just gonna wait until she woke up.”
��Tell me…what?” Steve asks, tired of watching Eddie and Dylan’s back and forth.
Dylan gives one last chuckle, the laughter telling Eddie it’s not something he’s very bitter about anymore. They still haven’t talked about it; he’s been waiting for Dylan to come to him. “She was my girlfriend, first.” Dylan says through a smirk. “She cheated on me. With dad.”
Steve processes it, both Dylan and Eddie can see the hamster wheel turning in his head. He looks back and forth between Dylan and Eddie, his eyes staying on either one for a moment. His eyes don’t blink the entire time, switching back and forth for a solid minute.
“Dude!” Steve finally says, landing on Eddie. “What the fuck happened, Ed?”
Dylan continues laughing, walking over to his dad. “Yeah dad, what happened?”
Eddie lets his head fall back on the pillows again, closing his eyes for a brief second. “Well, I tried to keep my distance…she did not.” Shit, that’s putting all the blame on you. “I wasn’t strong enough to tell her to break up with Dylan, first. Felt like I was seventeen years old, hormones just raging to a point where I couldn’t think straight with her right there.” He gets up from the couch, walking up to his closest friend of 30+ years. “She’s not just some 25-year-old, Steve. This girl, Steve, she’s everything, and somehow, she’s convinced that she’s the lucky one.”
When his dad spews cheesy shit like this it certainly softens the blow. Feels funny that he ever dated you in the first place at times.
Steve seems to miss the fact that Dylan has gotten almost completely over it by now. “That’s all good and nice, but I think you’re missing the fact that you stole your son’s girlfriend?”
Dylan lets out another laugh, wishing Steve was here when everything went down. That would’ve been a show. “Listen, Uncle Steve. I appreciate you standing up for me, truly, I do. If you were here three weeks ago when they fucked in my truck, then that would’ve been…just great.”
“You fucked in his tru—”
Dylan cuts him off, “But honestly, I didn’t date her for very long. If anything, I had only begun to develop some deeper feelings for her, but these two had it right away. They’re good together. I wish they could’ve just told me their feelings and then slept together, but with Maya…if she was dating one of my boys I would’ve done the same thing.”
Steve’s hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, seeing the truth in his statement. “Well, you’ll have to tell me about Maya, then.” He turns back to Eddie, a pinch appearing back between his brows. “But seriously, you fucked in his truck? What kind of sicko are you?”
“His was unlocked. He knows better.” Eddie shrugs, Steve rolls his eyes fondly.
“Good god, man.”
“I was actually just here to grab something, but I’ll see you for supper?” Dylan shoots, mid stride towards the stairs.
“We’re eating out, be back by 8:30.” Steve calls up, and Dylan waves his hand in acknowledgement.
“We are?” Eddie asks, sitting back on the couch.
“Oh yeah, Munson.” He sits on the cushion beside him, leaning onto his knees. “But tell me about her. Sorry I just assumed…but Robin will absolutely be calling you to rip your head off.”
“Or…she can find out in person one day.”
“Like at your wedding?” Steve teases, but lets out a burst of laughter when the blush appears on his cheeks. “Seriously, you hear wedding bells?”
“I’m not getting any younger, dude. But my hormones are, man, she has me doing multiple rounds, sometimes more than one a day!” Steve’s eyes widen, intrigued by this. “I haven’t fucked like this since my 20s.” Eddie pauses, thinking about his sex life back then. “I’m not even sure I fucked like this in my 20’s, to be honest.”
Steve lets out a laugh, shoving Eddie for good measure. Of course, being men, they both skip over the fact that yes, Eddie has had wedding bells in his head enough to start looking at rings…and go for the sex talk.
“Okay, sex aside. Tell me about her.”
It takes only five minutes of Steve listening to Eddie ramble on about you to realize it absolutely was the real deal. No mid-life crises here. Eddie seemed calm and laxed, whereas his ex always made him wired. For the record, Steve never quite liked her. She had Eddie looking like a wet chihuahua, yapping at every drop of a hat. Steve was a little relieved when she left, ‘cause no one could convince Eddie she was not good for him.
Turns out he just needed to wait a few years. 15, in fact.
-
You wake up to the feeling of Eddie’s hand on your cheek, carefully petting you as he places gentle kisses on your lips. “Baby.” He mumbles, causing you to stir. “Baby, wake up.”
As you start to wake up, you become increasingly aware that he was lying right behind you. “Mmm.”
“C’mon, we’re going out for supper with Steve, you have to get up.”  
Still reeling from the dream that you were just ripped out of, you arch your back slightly, grinding your ass against Eddie’s instantly-hardening cock. You hear a sharp inhale, Eddie’s grip on your hip intensifying. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we literally don’t have time.” Eddie comments, his forehead falling onto the back of your head in an act of self discipline.
You frown, giving a good hip swivel. “We always have time.”
“Not today, you don’t! Get up!” You pop awake, aware of Steve’s presence in the hallway as he overshadows Eddie, waking you up more fully.
“He knows me enough to know I’d try to sneak something in.” Eddie murmurs, as not to be heard.
You turn around in your bed, now lying face to face with him, a devious smile creeping on your face. “So, sneak something in.”
Eddie’s brows lift at your suggestive tone. “Fuck.” He mutters, crawling out of bed before you could give his neck one of those licks that just melts him into a puddle. “C’mon baby. Get all dressed up, meet you downstairs by 8:30.”
Your teeth grit together, grabbing your phone that was tossed haphazardly aside when you fell asleep. The screen illuminates itself and your eyes widen when you realize you only have…fifteen minutes to get ready. Well, why didn’t he just say that?
You rush into your closet, and for the first time, the amount of clothes you now own settles in. How the fuck are you ever getting ready ever again? You go to the dresses, skimming through the more family friendly options. You trail  over each hanger one at a time until you reach the right one. Some light makeup is done, a five-minute routine.
You finally reach the bottom step at 8:29 pm, all the guys sitting on the couch watching the tv. “Ready!”
Eddie glances at you and breaks into a smirk. “You look great, sweetheart.”
Your face heats up as you find a pair of shoes that won’t make you hate yourself. You smile, recalling your afternoon in the crowded dressing room. “Thanks, Ed.”
Meanwhile, Steve takes only two seconds as he witnesses this interaction to realize. “No. Go change.”
“W-what?” You stutter, not used to Steve’s blunt stature.
“I-just-just go change. I don’t need to be watching this all night!”
“Fine.” You roll your eyes, kicking your shoe off to put on a dress that Eddie didn’t salivate over that very afternoon.
“Wait, what? What was wrong with the dress?” Dylan asks Steve, not having a clue as to what just transpired.
“Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
“Hey, Dyl, you remember that green little dress that she had?” Eddie asks, recalling it on his carpeted floor earlier that day before he burned it.
Dylan smiles, then recalls what was so special about the dress. “Oh.” He mumbles, now feeling uncomfortable.
“I think she’s overwhelmed with choices, which is why she picked the dress in the first place. I’ll go help. Meet you there.”
-
Steve put up a fight on just meeting you there, but one on one time with his boy is something he wouldn’t pass up. Especially when he talks about a girl the way he did about Maya.
Eddie didn’t give Steve much of an option, still trying to get rid of the hard on that he had. He bursts through the bedroom and closet door, and as he does so, the front door slams shut. Eddie walks in to you staring aimlessly in your underwear at the dresses, not knowing which one to put on. Eddie comes from behind you, placing his stubbly chin onto your shoulder. “What’s up, baby?” He asks, casually drifting your underwear down your legs.  
You sigh, the trail of his fingertips sending shivers up your spine. “You got me too many dresses.”
“No, I didn’t.” Eddie says, you hear and feel behind you as he lets his own pants drop. “Bend a little bit.” He whispers as you feel his hard cock against your ass.
You do, lifting your ass up at an angle where he can slide right into your folds. He does, arms drifting below your torso and up to play with your tits as he fucks you from behind.
“I got the perfect amount for my sweet baby.” He mutters into your ear, both his hands doing things to your tits that make you whimper. “Love to spoil my beautiful girl.”
“Fuck, daddy.” You whine, your heat already so goddamn hot. “Help. Can’t decide on a dress.”
“Here.” Ed pauses, causing you to whine, but puts a dress in front of you. “Wear this one for daddy.”
“O-ok.” You stutter, barely paying attention to it. “Love you, daddy.”
“I love you,” he kisses your neck, wet and sweet, “so much, pretty baby.” You turn your head to face him, leaning in for a delicate kiss, your pussy clenching around him as you do.
You lean onto the white walls separating each compartment of the closet, closing your eyes as he fucks into you. “Daddy,” you whine, and he pulls your hair gently in response, bringing your head back to his.
“Yes, baby?”
“You’re so good to me, I’m so-so close.” You pant, giving him lustful eyes.
“Cum with me,” Eddie mutters, having been close himself a few times. He leans down, rubbing at your clit. You cum around him hard, yelling his name.
He catches your lips in a kiss when he cums, so you have no idea what he said.
He lets you catch your breath, wrapping his arms around you protectively until you let him know you’re okay. “Thank you, baby.”
“Oh that was just a spur of the moment, I just got lucky.” He jokes, bringing up the dress to you to get redressed.
“You think Steve—”
“Oh, I guarantee Steve already knows.” Eddie interrupts your worry, that Steve knew you were hooking up. “Just had to be sneaky.”
You put yourself in the dress, staring at it in the mirror. Okay, Eddie is seriously good at picking things that fit you well. Damn. “Let’s go baby.”
“Fuck, with you in that dress I’ll be gunning for round two all night.”
“Then we better go so we can come back and do it!” You assert playfully.
“Fuck, I love you.”
-
As you and Eddie sit down at the table where your ice cubes are already melted with the water droplets making a pool on the table, Steve doesn’t say a word, but the look he gives says enough. If he’s your boyfriend’s best friend, how come he already has the ability to make you feel like you had disappointed him?
The restaurant is a steakhouse, something worth dressing up for, but not like the one Eddie took you to. Steve managed to talk about all his kids, describing each one of the four and their distinct personalities to you.
Arlo is apparently a near carbon copy of his father, only differing on a few personality quirks here and there. He was in every sense of the word the eldest Harrington, making a reputation for the Harrington children to live up to at the daycare, elementary school and finally, but most importantly, high school.  Considering Steve raised his kids in Hawkins, Arlo knew the expectations for him and met them, tenfold. Steve never says it, but you can tell he’s so proud of how cool his kid turned out to be. Apparently, though they were closest in age, Dylan was closer to Nicky than to Arlo.
Nicky was the middle child for most of his life. He still considers himself to be, despite getting a younger sister four years ago. He had found himself gravitating towards the arts, and Steve found himself with a kid who spent his early mornings watching broadway bootlegs and collecting song books. This turned him into somewhat of a ladies’ man like Arlo, his baritone vibrato beautifully toned as he starred in most of his school musicals. Someday, Arlo wants to enroll in a drama school, and Steve still isn’t sure how he feels about it.
Dustin is the third child, and for a while, the baby. It’s explained to you that Dustin is named after a mutual friend, someone younger than both Eddie and Steve, someone they took under their wing and mutually adopted. When Dustin’s name was announced, Steve and his wife made sure he was in the room, so for the first hour of Dustin Harrington’s life, he was unnamed. Tears streamed down Dustin’s, (the original), face when he realized that Steve had named his child after him. Immediately, Dustin was his. Because of Dustin Henderson, Dustin Harrington is a complete dork. He’s completely invested in Star Wars, has built his own Magic the Gathering deck, used to spend weekends on Skype for DnD sessions with Uncle Eddie, and has even been to a convention or two.
Basically, none of his boys were the same.
You resented little Eliza coming up in conversation, only for the sake of her photos enticing some sick and cruel twist of fate.
Eliza, however, is the apple of everyone’s eye, and the darling of the Harrington family. She’s a handful, to say the least, a stubborn personality and even worse temperament. Steve swears he thought her toddler years were a handful; until she reached the independent thinking stage. Now, she wants everything, but she never wants help. Her three brothers are fiercely protective of her, each in their own ways, on top of having her dad, her uncle Eddie, and a few names that aren’t familiar to you (note: ask Eddie who ‘Hopper’ is), she’s got the world wrapped around her pinky.
Steve is at the end of a tale of chasing little Eliza around the mall, having slipped his grip in a quick getaway, creating havoc as she clutched a teddy bear that wasn’t paid for. He laughs fondly, describing how she evaded three security guards attempting to aid Steve in his mission, finally catching her when she was hungry enough to decide to end the chase.
You all sit with your food in front of you, chuckling at Steve’s well-told story. “Man,” Eddie starts, mouth still full. He waits until he swallows to continue, “I don’t know if I could have a toddler now. Especially if they’re as wild as Dylan was.”
“Hey!” Dylan calls, gesturing to himself. “I’m right here!”
“No offense, kid, but you were a menace. I looked away for two seconds once and found you on the roof with an umbrella to see if it would work as a parachute.”
“You remember what you told me?” Dylan challenges him, leaning onto his elbows on the table. “Hmm? You tell her what you told me.”
You perk up, leaning into Eddie. “Well, I came out and asked him what he was doing. He said he wanted to see if it worked.”
“And…you said?” Dylan asks, eager to get to the punchline.
“I told him to try it then and see how it works out for him!”
“So, I did!” Dylan exclaims, exasperated.
“What?” You exclaim, and the three men around you nod their heads solemnly, all having heard this story several times before.
“I didn’t know he was actually going to do it!” Eddie laughs, defending himself at your bug eyes aimed at him.
“You’re my dad, I trusted you had my best interests at heart!”
“How you didn’t know sarcasm before that is beyond me…” Eddie mutters, shaking his head fondly at his son. “That story was used against me several times in court, too.”
“They tried to make him out to be a terrible parent. I was pissed.” Dylan explains, and your heart melts over it. “I maintained that even though I had a cast for a few weeks, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn my lesson. Don’t jump off the roof. You will get hurt. That’s what my dad was telling me before he dared me.”
You intertwine your fingers with Eddie’s, smoothing his thumb with your own. There’s a nagging in the back of your mind as you recall his claims of being too old for a toddler, a slight disappointment. You shove it far, far back into your brain, not wanting to dissect that. “So, you staying the night, or?” You ask Steve.
“No thanks, Dylan has made it clear that you two are insatiable.” He says, toying with his food. “He has told me every story where he has caught you, even the ones you don’t know about.” He pauses, giving Eddie a resigned glance across the table. “Freaks. The both of you.”
Your phone buzzes on the table, and you reach for it momentarily to check out the text from Bethany. As your attention is stolen, Eddie mouths over you, Jealous? Steve spurts out a laugh, as if the idea is so absurd. Your head shoots up, Bethany’s text is fresh on your mind. “Baby, can…can I take a picture of your hand?”
“Uh, sure.” Eddie agrees, placing his hand out from your grip and onto the table. “What for?”
“For my Insta,” you answer, somewhat preoccupied by getting a good angle while making his hand intertwined with yours look natural.
“Oh, soft launch?” Dylan comments, and you snap your fingers in confirmation.
Eddie chuckles, all the words coming out of you and Dylan sounding like a different language. “What?”
“Okay, so it’s not just me!” Steve laughs, holding his chest dramatically. “Seriously, what are you two on about?”
Dylan answers before you can–  you’re still trying to get a good angle of his hand holding yours on the table. “It’s posting an update to your relationship status without giving a name to the person. It’s telling the world you’re taken, but not by who. Usually in case they break up, but I don’t think it’s why she’s doing it.”
“No, Eddie has no social media and I know…” you pause, leaning back to take one more, “that he wants to keep it that way, so, I’m showing him off in my own way.” You glare at your phone, swearing softly when it still doesn’t look right.
“For fucks’ sake, let me,” Dylan snatches your phone and gets up from the booth, squats and places the phone as if you were the one taking it yourself, snaps a photo, and tosses the phone back to you. “There.”
The phone falls past your hand and into your lap. You gently pick it up, assessing the photo in your recents. Damn. It was the exact vibe you were looking for. “Well, thanks.”
Dylan shoots an eye roll back, his heart not really in it.
“Let’s see?” Eddie asks, leaning into you, resting his chin against the strap of your dress on your shoulder. You’ve already captioned and posted the photo onto your Instagram, so you let him view the screen. He lets out a chuckle, a wide grin appearing on his face. “I like the photo, but what does the caption mean? Greater than what?”
Caption reads, ‘Him>’.
“Oh, it just means you’re ‘greater than’ everything else. There is no one thing to put because it would be useless.” You explain, turning your phone off and placing it face down on the table.
Eddie shifts the two of you so he can see your face, eyes switching between yours as he assesses you. You look up at him, curious to what could possibly be on that brain of his. “You think I’m greater than everything else?”
Of course you’ve seen it plastered on social media sites, somewhat of a common way to refer to your personal opinion of something. It’s so normalized, and you figured it was a simple way to announce that you were taken by the finest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You nod, “Of course!”
His hand frames your face and suddenly his lips are on yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as the kiss and the pure love you feel in his reaction makes you feel like you’d be knocked off your feet if you weren’t already sitting down. Your limbs catch up and one hand lands on his thigh, ignoring the subtle heat you feel pooling in your cunt.
Steve and Dylan are forgotten as you get caught up in a frenzy, lips locking with a level of need for one another that would give any other person envy over the display of passion. Dylan has gotten used to it, you two were in the habit of kissing one another like this often. Steve takes a large sip of his bourbon, leaning back in his booth and leaning right to him. “So, this—”
“Yeah, that’s normal.” Dylan tells him.
“Jesus, I thought you were exaggerating.” Steve pauses, moving his plate away from him, all done. “Thought he was exaggerating.”
“Exaggerating what?” Dylan asks, afraid of the answer.
Steve smirks, taking another sip of his drink. “Just drink your apple juice.” He nods to Dylan’s beer; Dylan shoves his shoulder fondly in response. Steve takes one last big swig of his drink, gesturing to the waitress across the room for her assistance. “Hey. You two. Take a breather.”
Your kisses haven’t gotten any more intense, though his hand placed gently on your thigh was a tease. You could make out with him for hours, knowing your limits in the restaurant booth. Eddie finally pulls back, kissing you delicately a few times on the lips as to not leave you hanging, leaving you reeling when the server stops by.
“Just the check, please.” Steve tells her, smug.
The waitress nods, grabbing plates when the four of you insist you’re all done with your food. Steve and Eddie end up telling a story from their early 20’s when they were both single, finishing each other’s sentences as they remind each other how unruly they were back then. Your eyes flick back and forth between them, something clicking.
“Hmm.” You muster, letting yourself think about it.
“Yes, baby?”
You zone back in, blinking as you realize the three of them are staring at you expectantly. You hadn’t even realized you hummed out loud. “Oh, nothing.” But he’s not budging. None of them are. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”
Still no dice.
You lean forward towards Dylan, who sits across from you, lowering your voice. “Do you want to be traumatized by your dad’s sex life?” He shakes his head, the smile leaving his face. You lean back, satisfied. “Then don’t worry about it.”
“For the record, I think you mean more traumatized.” Dylan mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. You kick his shin underneath the table, light enough to hurt but not do anything. You giggle at his reaction, leaning into Eddie’s arm as it snakes around your own.
Your phone buzzes, another text from Bethany. You smile as you check it, content in Eddie’s arms as the waitress comes around again with the bill. Steve hands her a card as he watches Eddie speak softly to you, nothing important, just something causing you to giggle. He feels confident in his own marriage, a love that gave him four kids with a stable home to drive back to. It just made him happy to see Eddie in a relationship where it’s clearly reciprocated.
As Eddie whispers to you, you can barely take in the words Bethany has texted you, but what she has to say to you is seemingly important, your phone buzzing repeatedly in your hands. You allow your eyes to focus back on them and the all-caps of her texts become clear.
CHECK YOUR INSTA
HELLO???
BABE
HELLO
GO CHECK IT YOUR POST ALREADY HAS OVER 500 LIKES
BITCH IT’S AT ONE THOUSAND
HELLLLOOOO
“Oh, shit.” You switch apps to make sure it’s true. In your notifications, there are over 300 comments and more likes than Bethany had claimed, 1.5 thousand. By no means is it viral, but most of your posts got no more than 100 due to your circle of friends in the app being so small. “Holy shit.” There are several comments praising Eddie’s hand, even some drool emojis. The only solace you can give yourself is that you now know you are never exposing his face. “Um, Ed. Your hand has gotten attention.”
He leans over, seeing the amount of engagement on your post. “Cool.” He comments, the numbers not meaning much to him.
“I could’ve told you that much.” Steve laughs.
You peer at him questioningly, silently asking what he meant by it.
“Listen, the ladies in Hawkins are…what is it…thirsty?” He checks with Dylan. Dylan chuckles and confirms it. “Yeah, okay, thirsty. They are mad thirsty over Eddie. If I accidentally mention that the Munsons are coming into town, it becomes town gossip. It’s like Billy Hargrove all over again, except this time it’s age appropriate.”
You turn back to Eddie, serious as you can be. “You’re never going back.”
 He laughs, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it.”
-
As you walk towards the front door of the restaurant, the sun has set on another day. Eddie’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and Steve calls out to Eddie as he leads you to his truck, drawing your attentions. “Munson!”
Eddie turns around, the use of his last name certainly grabbing his attention. They quit using last names on one another years ago. The last time Eddie fully recalls being called Munson by Steve; Steve was pulling at his hair… “You rang, Harrington?”
“Can I steal your girlfriend for a drive?” He asks, sending a smile your way.
“Uh,” Eddie looks at you, making sure you’re comfortable with it. You nod your head, sharing a look with him. “Sure. Have her back within the hour, though.”
“Yes, sir.” Steve jokes, laughing to himself when Eddie subtly grits his teeth, and a pink blush reaches his cheeks. “C’mon, I don’t bite.”
You give your boyfriend a hug, embracing his kiss of safety and comfort. “Love you.” As you walk the steps toward Steve, Eddie tugs you back by your fingertips, one last kiss for good measure.
“Love you more.” He mutters, and for a second you believe him. Oh, to follow him into his truck and ride with him in a comfortable silence on the way back.
“Come on! One hour won’t kill you.” Steve grabs your hand before you can register, leading the way to his SUV.
Dylan passes you on the way to his dad, waving cheekily on the way and you flip him off.
You get into the dark blue SUV, a Range Rover, no less. It’s evident he has a four-year-old with the car seat and the mess in his back seat, but you know that if he didn’t have Eliza, the brown interior would’ve been spotless. Steve turns down the radio he had blasting, turning his iPhone connection on. “Ready for some oldies?”
“You and Eddie. Terrible, the both of you.” You mutter, shaking your head.
Steve laughs, pulling out of the parking lot and turning the opposite way of Eddie’s (yours too) house. “Don’t worry, just taking the long way.” He assures you after he sees you staring wistfully off at Eddie’s tail lights.
It’s about five minutes of silence until Steve talks again. “So, I just wanted to apologize about earlier, I was…I was shocked. When you opened the door, I didn’t know who you were, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the answer I got. Can you tell me your version of how you two got together? I didn’t want Eddie interjecting.”
“Oh.” You clear your throat. “Uh, Dylan forgot a parking pass on our way to the beach, so he stopped by the house to look for it. Eddie comes down, sweats low on his hips and hair still wet from his shower, and I could barely focus on anything else around me. I should’ve broken up with Dylan the moment I got to his truck.” You tell him, making sure Steve knows full well that you are still apologetic about the cheating.
“Oh sweetheart, that’s all fine and dandy. As far as Dylan is concerned, it hurt, but it’s long gone in his mind. Trust me. Any hesitation is aimed at Eddie, and for good reason.” Steve reassures you, feeling your defense build. “Don’t worry. Just tell the story.”
“Okay. I didn’t end it because I was afraid he’d lash out and it would’ve been forever before getting ahold of Eddie again. I couldn’t risk it, so I stayed. It lasted until that weekend, when I was doing horny things in the living room with Dylan just because Eddie was home. Maybe he’d hear something, maybe he’d look…maybe he’d watch…” You drift off, remembering the sheer urgency you had for him. “I wore skimpy outfits, I bent over around the house, I was fully prepared for Eddie, and to be honest, I was too hormonal to care or understand the repercussions.” You glance out the window, lights blinding you as you pass each neon sign. “So, we hooked up. After spending more time with him, I realized how much I had already cared about him. Now, Steve, now, I love that man so goddamn much.”
Steve smiles at you as he drives, his head waving with the bumps in the road. “Where do you see this going? For your future? In the long term, are you willing to accept that his body will give out a lot earlier than yours?”
 A knot forms in your stomach in the shape of a confession. You switch your glance to Steve, and you feel safe with him. Not like Eddie, no. It was like he would never tell your secrets, or like he’d protect you. “Uh, this evening, I had the terrifying displeasure of realizing one day I’d want kids with him. One day, after he marries me and tells the whole world who I belong to, I want to have his baby. I want to raise a baby into a handful of a toddler into a snarky teenager. I thought I was totally in the clear for kids with him, but you showed him the video of Eliza and now it’s…I can’t get rid of it. So, thanks for that, Steve.” Admitting to this, out loud even…it’s too much. “I want to spend my life with him.”
You wait for an answer, somewhat on edge as you fiddle with your fingers. “And you’re okay with the knowledge that you will bury him one day?” Steve pressures on, and you respect it.
“I’ve accepted the realities, yes, which is why I’m not telling him I want kids. He said he’s too tired. I can’t force that on him.”
A full belly laugh escapes Steve as he shakes his head. “If you told him that you want a baby, he would absolutely give you one without a moment’s hesitation. I have never seen him like this, not even with his ex.” He pauses, thinking on how to tell you. “Listen, I don’t know if you know much about her, but Eddie’s ex was not all that…kind to him.” He chooses his words carefully. “He was into her from the get-go, but it was obvious he was more into her. Eventually, when Eddie realized she was cheating, he called me, panicking about losing Dylan.
“I sent my best lawyer to him. Less than a week later they have court dates for custody hearings. Honestly, she was angry she was caught and angry she wasn’t the one to file. I think it took her being angry and belligerent in court for Eddie to finally see who she was. The judge was patient, more than she should’ve been. When she didn’t listen to the judge’s warnings, Eddie was granted everything he wanted. He thought it was a goddamn miracle, the only two things he wanted were the shop and Dylan. The shop had people’s livelihoods; it was their only income. Dylan just wanted to be with his dad, he made that very clear.
“Once the dust settled, it sank in. He called, finally, crying on the floor of the closet. He had spent all year on it just for her to only have it for a handful of months. It was a labour of love for him, and it turned out she was sleeping with someone else the entire time.”
Your teeth grit, fucking seething for Eddie. If either Eddie or Steve knew what was good for her, they’d never tell you her name.
“I came immediately, bringing Arlo and Nick to help cheer him up. Nick was only about 2, so he would’ve done more cheering in the way that toddlers do. But even Arlo knew something was up so it’s the one and only time he’s ever played DnD and fully embraced it. When Nick went to bed, the four of us all played together.” Steve observes your body language, your jaw locked and fists clenched. You’re so angry for him. He decides to omit the fact that after the kids went to bed, Eddie was inconsolable in his heartbreak. Steve knows it might come out one day, but that was not the point of this discussion.
“I promise, I didn’t tell you to make you mad, I just need you to know that Eddie will love you selflessly and wholly, because he doesn’t have it in himself to love any other way.” He slows to a stop at a red light, turning his head to face you. “I was very worried at first, but man, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
The question still echoes in your mind, but the answer is starting to lean towards a yes. “How did you guys become friends?” You ask instead, leaning away from your boyfriend’s heartbreak and his bitchy ex.
“That… is a very long story.”
“Eddie gave you an hour, of which you’ve only used 15 minutes.” You point out, smirking.
“Alright, buckle up. It’s Hawkins, Indiana. 1996. Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson is missing.”
-
Steve was right, the story of their friendship was a long one. He didn’t necessarily dive into the nitty gritty, just implied he was falsely accused in a situation where he had no alibi and helped him out. One day, years later you would finally feel comfortable asking and Eddie would get into the full details of the Upside Down.
Steve brought you home with ten minutes to spare, you cling to Eddie as soon as you see him. The unresolved lust from earlier on top of the empathy for how hard it must’ve been for him drove your need for him, just you and him. “Can’t wait any longer.” You whisper, fingers digging into the now open button up shirt he wore to dinner and fisting the material into a ball with your hands.
You feel a huff of silent laughter come from him, a long sigh leaving his lips as he considers his options. It’s only 11 o’clock. Usually, when Steve is in town he stays for hours into the night to talk and laugh together. Dylan started a habit of joining their conversations as he got older. He knows it’s what they’re expecting, and he knows exactly what you need. He lifts your face with his hands. “Go get dressed into something more comfortable. Be right up.”
You nod, feeling sleepy, and for once, not conscious of the audience you held with him.
As you run upstairs, Eddie turns to Steve. “You and Dylan go to your hotel room. I’ll meet you there. Later.”
Steve’s eyebrows raise. “Didn’t you say you were exhausted?”
“I could just stay home all night. I have no problems with that.” Eddie bites back, a tone of endearment at the root of it.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. God, I miss when you were single,”
Dylan and Steve leave for the hotel room, the two shooting teasing glances at Eddie.
You lay on your side of the bed, scrolling on your phone but only paying the littlest attention. Eddie opens the door, his long legs take him to the bed quickly as he lies right next to you. You immediately crawl into his arms, the phone forgotten. Your chest feels tight as you mentally go over what Steve told you, the way his ex treated him. There’s no way it was true, because Eddie ever feeling like he deserved any of it was too much for you to bear.
Eddie feels the shift in you, something’s different. It isn’t one of your normal hugs. Your arms are wrapped around his, as if you’re sheltering him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, brows furrowed as he notes your quickened breathing and heart rate. You’re lying down; you should be far more relaxed.
“Steve…Steve told me more about your ex, and it made me sick to my stomach.” You admit, not wanting many secrets between the two of you. You’re already harbouring one, you don’t need another. “I don’t know how anyone could possibly treat you like that.”
Eddie’s eyes well and he looks up, trying not to let a tear fall from the tone of your voice or how genuine you sound in your anger for him. “It’s ancient history, now, baby.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” You counter, hands squeezing him. “I love you more than I can even conceive. More than I can wrap my head around… I can’t stand the thought of you being heartbroken because that bitch decided someone building her a closet wasn’t good enough for her.”
Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how loved you just made him feel, and how in your own way, you just told him he would be just as protected as you are by him. You would stand up for him the same way he would for you. He doesn’t have the words or the strength to hold back the tears, so he leans in and kisses you, really kisses you.  
As his lips meet yours, you taste the salt of his tears and lightly use your thumbs to brush them away. He climbs on top of you, brushing his hand under your PJ shirt, testing the waters. You guide his hand to your tit, aching for him to touch you for what felt like hours. Your kisses are slow and purposeful, the stream of the salt still coming, and you ignore it for the sake of his hand feeling so goddamn good on your nipple as he teases you. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about them, anyway. Your mouth opens against him as he flicks it, whimpering.
You wrap your legs around his hips, unwinding them from between his legs and his bulge presses into your covered heat immediately. You kiss down his jaw, gently decorating his neck with wet kisses as you kiss away the salt that streamed down his face. Your hand moves down to palm him through his slacks, a whimper leaving him. “Do…do you want to?” You check, slightly stroking him through his jeans.
He sniffles, bunching up your shirt to help it off. “Yes. Sorry, I can’t handle strong emotions, they…overwhelm me.”
“I’ll handle them for the both of us.” You offer.
Eddie is a mess already, and he tugs on you to kiss you some more. “I didn’t know I could love someone this much.” He mutters, gulping through his kisses.
You don’t answer him, grabbing at his shirt to take it off. As the shirt flies off, his chest comes full contact with yours and you arch your hips up to meet his, the bulge hitting your heat almost too perfectly. You grind on it, needing him now, wanting to feel all of him.
Eddie reads your mind, tearful but still in tune with everything your body needs from him. His hands move your pants down your legs, placing kisses down your torso as he does. He crawls back up to you, taking his own pants off as he continues to wantonly kiss you. Before you know it, you feel his cock against your thigh as he presses your legs into your stomach.
Eddie leans into you, connecting your foreheads. You frame his face, staring at his wet brown eyes. “Please baby.” You kiss him, your hips barely able to stay still. “I love you, I fucking need you.”
“I know.” He mumbles, nodding his head. He guides his cock into you, pushing in gently but deeply into you within seconds. Your legs tighten around his torso, your pussy sucking him in. “Christ.”
His face finds itself in your neck, giving sweet kisses up and down as he starts to move his hips. You hold onto him, hands wrapped around his torso, spread-out palms down on his back. His hips rock so slowly, taking in every inch of your pussy he possibly can. His forehead finds yours again and his eyes open and stare into yours. His mouth is parted, his cheeks are flushed, and no longer wet. Somewhere in the midst he stopped crying, but the emotions he felt were still there. “Feels good?”
You nod, breath hitching by the sheer emotion you see in his eyes. “So good, baby.”
He smiles softly, staring at you half lidded. “Don’t want it harder?” He teases, bucking his hips hard once before moving back to his soft pace.
The buck releases a loud cry of pleasure from you, not expecting it. “Fuck, Ed. Can you do that again?”
Eddie smiles wider. “Mmhm.” He bucks into you harder again a few times, and your eyes close immediately, the heat from your pussy starting to pool. “Oh my god, Eddie.”
“More?” He asks, slowing his hips again. “My love, if you want me to fuck you harder, you need to tell me.”
“Fuck me harder, Ed. Please.”
Eddie chuckles softly, stopping his movements altogether to give you a kiss, taking your breath away by the love in it. “Sure thing, baby.”
Before you know it, his hips start at an unforgiving pace, the force takes you aback so badly, you moan loudly at every buck, every rut of his hips against yours. His thumb connects to your neglected clit, and the subtle heat explodes into a frenzy. Eddie feels your velvet walls pulse around him as you get closer. “I wanna feel that perfect pussy cum all over my cock.”
“Eddie, so close…love you so much…” you’re seeing stars, your legs tense around him. He leans down to you, giving your torso one long lick down your tummy and, oddly enough, it was the final thing to drive you over the edge.
Your pussy tightening around him does it for Eddie, watching your face as your orgasm rips through you, filling you up with his cum, white ropes shooting into you. He collapses on your chest, the physical exhaustion from the day mixed with the added exhaustion from emotionally breaking down finally piling on him. “Sweetheart, I love you. So fucking much. I just…can’t believe how much better you’ve made my life.”
“I love you.” Your entire body wraps around him, holding him close to you. “Do you have to go?”
“Would you like to come with me?”
You nod your head, knowing full well you’ll probably fall asleep on the couch in Steve’s hotel room.
“Alright, let’s go.”
-
Eddie scratches his head while working on some paperwork in his work office, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose as he goes through some numbers. One of the things he hates about owning a business is the math part of it. Luckily, he’s good at math, it’s just when the numbers suddenly go negative, it creates an issue.
His phone sitting on the desk starts to ring and he picks it up, expecting it to be you, but instead he’s met with an unknown number. Eddie sighs and reluctantly answers. It could be a customer with a new number for all he knows.
Wrong. Dead wrong.
“Eddie Munson speaking.” He answers, scanning over another invoice.
“Why the fuck are you dating a 25-year-old?” It occurs to Eddie this phone number has an area code from Boston…which is where she moved to. Fuck.
“Hi, Brooke.” He sighs, tired.
“Yeah, yeah. When and why the fuck are you dating some little hot piece of ass? You know she’s probably a gold digger, right? This morning she posted a selfie from my closet and it looks like she’s already moved in?”
“We met through a friend” Eddie wraps his head in his hands, wondering what the hell he ever saw in her craziness. “Wait, why am I telling you this, what fucking nerve do you have to call me and accuse my girlfriend being a gold digger?! How the fuck did you even find out?”
“Her little Instagram post with you two holding hands, which by the way, was cheesy and not in a good way. It got a lot of attention and Laura recognized your hands immediately and sent me the post.”
Fucking Laura. “Good for you, you found her Instagram.” He sighs, leaning back in his office chair. “I owe you nothing, Brooke. Nothing. I’m not sure what you had expected from this conversation but I’m sure this wasn’t it. Oh, and Brooke? That’s not your closet, hasn’t been for 15 years. Don’t call me again or I'll get my lawyer.”
“Oh, calm down.” Brooke huffs, her voice agitated. As if her voice had any other tone. Eddie hears her muffle the speaker to her phone. “Boys, quiet down for five minutes? I’m on the phone!” There’s another shuffle of noise on the other end, then her voice is directed back at Eddie, “That won’t be necessary. I just need to make sure you know that she will ruin your life because she’s a little skank.”
“Talk about my wife that way again and you’ll be hearing from a lot more than just my lawyer, you absolute cunt.” Eddie hangs up on her, missing the satisfaction of slamming a phone on the receiver. He picks his work phone up and slams it down. There, much better.
Wait until Steve hears about this… Holy shit.
Wait until you hear about it. Oh, fuck.
-
Steve manages to stretch his visit for one more day, laying on the couch with you as you watch a movie he recommended to you. He lays down with his torso on the arm rest, legs resting on your lap. When his legs landed, you glared at him, asking if he had nowhere else to place them. Steve said in response, “Of course, I do! You’ll just hold them because you’re so nice.”
So, you do. The movie is called The Gentlemen, a fast-paced comedy about a drug lord attempting to sell his business and all the shenanigans that follow. You find yourself laughing with him, expecting some movie like The Godfather or Fight Club, though it came out only four years ago.
Eddie swings open the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly with a smirk on his face. “Oh my god, Steve. Oh my god.” Eddie came straight from work, the phone call not allowing his brain to go over another invoice, especially when the numbers didn’t make sense. He struts to the couch, lifts Steve’s legs and sits right next to you, placing Steve’s legs back on his lap. He places his arm around you, looking at Steve with a smirk plastered. “Steve. Oh, my god.”
“Ed?” You ask, taking in his flustered features. Not flustered in the way you’re used to, but flustered nonetheless. “Everything okay?”
He nods his head, an incredulous laugh escaping as he does. “Oh, yeah. Totally okay. Got a phone call today.” You and Steve share a look of concern over his shoulder. “From Brooke.”
Now, this name means nothing to you. But from Steve’s reaction, in a split second you realize it’s the name of the woman you have grown to viscerally hate. “No way. What…what did she say?”
“She found Y/N’s Instagram post from last night and recognized my hand.” Eddie says, squeezing your shoulder. “She uh, then proceeded to insult me, insult her, and remind me how grateful I am she left me before I realized what a terrible person she is.”
“Anything else?” Steve asks, eyes wide. Brooke has literally been radio silent for years.
“Yeah, but nothing worth getting into.” Eddie comments, leaning into the couch, raising his eyebrows at Steve. Not something he wants to get into with you around, but definitely will with his best friend. “She sounded…jealous.”
“Jealous how?”
Eddie looks at you, twisting his body to face you. “Jealous of you. Out of line, absolutely, but jealous.”
The satisfaction that ripples through your body is simply too much. A woman took advantage of his kindness and left him for dead and now she’s jealous? Good. “Wait, she stalks my Instagram?”
“Uh, I suppose, yes.” Eddie answers, not so sure he understands the use of stalk.
“I could have some fun with this.” You mutter, thinking to yourself.
“Baby?” Eddie asks, slightly scared of the wicked smirk he sees displayed on your face.
“Hmm.” You mumble, opening your phone to your Pinterest app. “Yes?”
“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, talking low as he watches over your shoulder.
“Nothing. Just be ready for a picture when I need you.”
Eddie laughs, ready to calm you down a bit, but finds himself a little fearful of the plan in your mind.
You scroll through your Pinterest for about ten minutes while Steve and Eddie converse about the boys again. If you have learned one thing about Steve, it’s that his kids are his pride and joy. The conversation leads to Eliza, and you feel that pang in your stomach again. It’s getting harder to ignore as you watch Eddie’s face light up at the endless stories of the kids’ mischief.
Steve gets up from the couch, needing to use the bathroom. While he’s gone, you take advantage, finally having a moment to ask the question that’s been on your mind. “Hey, Ed.” You start, his head turning to face you, almost impossibly close.
“Yes, baby?”
Shit, his lips are so tempting. You sigh, ignoring the pull to his lips. “I just have a question, and please don’t be offended if the answer is no.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pleasantly surprised by your reaction to his ex-wife calling, so he’s certainly intrigued by what you’re about to say. “I make no promises.”
That’s not comforting. “Okay. Have you and Steve…did you guys ever hook up?” You ask, avoiding his eyes, which is impossible because they’re right there.  
Eddie breaks into a smile followed by incredibly contagious laughter. You were certain you must’ve been dead wrong based on his laughter alone. You’re just reading into things that aren’t there. He finally stops, grabbing your face for a smiley, giggly kiss. You pull back, looking at him in confusion, as he laughs again. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out.” He says, eyes searching yours.
Oh, fuck. You were right! “Wait.” You say while giggling. “I…I was right?”
“Yeah.”
“When?!”
Eddie squints comically, looking up. “Uh, 27 or so years ago in Vegas.”
You squint back at the sheer cliché of it all. “Vegas? Really?”
“Well, we were both down on our luck, we thought, very drunkenly, might I add, a trip to Vegas would help. It certainly did the trick, I think.”
You laugh, the situation described much differently than what you had expected. “I bet it did.” You boop him on the nose as he scrunches it adorably.
Steve comes out from the bathroom and sees your silly display of love, jogging to the couch. “You guys are cavity inducing. Seriously.”
“Steve.” Eddie says, turning his head to face him. “She figured it out.”
Steve smirks, silently asking Eddie if he was talking about what Steve thought he was talking about. “Hmm?”
“Mmhmm.”
“No shit! What gave it away?” Steve asks, genuinely curious as he attempts to extend his legs onto Eddie’s lap again.
“No offense, you guys, but you both act like you have a secret with one another that you won’t share with the class. There’re only so many secrets that could be.” You offer an answer, and they seem to accept it…for the most part.
“What, we don’t give off two very straight dudes?” Eddie jokes, making you shove his shoulder.
“See, Dylan’s great, but I’ve been dying to ask since last night, and I wasn’t gonna ask with him around.”
Eddie chuckles, leaning in for one last gentle kiss. When he separates, he clutches onto Steve’s leg, startling him. “Sorry,” he laughs through his apology. “I have to take a shower then I have one more errand to run, and I need your help before you take off tonight.”
“Sure, dude. What do you need?”
You go back on your phone, checking your Pinterest and mostly tuning out the conversation, looking for subtle ways to show Eddie off on your Instagram that will piss Brooke off. Eddie nods his head to indicate it isn’t a conversation to be had around you, and you don’t even notice.
Steve nods in understanding, fist bumping Eddie as he runs around the couch and up the stairs. The silence that settles around you while he’s upstairs is comfortable, Steve paying attention to the movie as the plot thickens while you scroll through your phone and gather devious ideas. You barely notice the ten minutes pass by as Eddie comes back downstairs. You clock the scent of his freshly showered self, causing you to look up.
Eddie is wearing a pair of jeans and a button up loosely tucked in with a chain necklace. You pick your jaw off the floor, gulping as he walks up to you with a smirk on his face as he witnesses your very visible reaction. He lays a chaste kiss on your forehead and taps on Steve’s leg.
Steve gets up from the couch and Eddie grabs his keys. “Be back soon, baby!”
“Could you get some pop?” You ask him as he opens the front door.
“Baby, we have so much to drink that’s not gonna rot those pretty teeth. It won’t kill you to drink water.” He says, stopping in the doorway. You roll your eyes, tempted to order in from a convenience store if he was gonna be this stubborn. “If there’s pop here when I get home, you’re gonna see a consequence.”
“Yes, daddy.” You bite back. Well, if you order one drink and place it in the bottom of the recycling, he won’t see it, right?
“Hey. Drink some water. I mean it. Take care of yourself, for Christ’ sake.” He yells, hearing your eyes roll. “Love you!”
Eddie shuts the door, reminding himself to check the recycling when he gets home.
“Daddy, huh?” Steve asks, poking fun as they get into his truck.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Eddie rolls his eyes, shoving the keys into the ignition. His hands move to put the vehicle in reverse when something occurs to him. “Shit.”
“What?���
“Uh, give me a sec.” Eddie brings out his phone, going through the 15 contacts, scrolls right to Maya. He rings it.
“…Hello?” Maya answers, sounding understandably perplexed.
“Hi, Maya, how would one know what kind of ring to get without asking the person it’s for?” Steve’s brows rais, the errand being ring shopping is news to him.
“Well… it depends. Do you want to buy her a ring just because…or are you shopping for,” she pauses, slowly saying it. If she was wrong, it could set off an alarm, “…an engagement ring?”
“Yeah, an engagement ring.” Eddie admits, saying it out loud feels crazy to him. “How would one figure that out?”
“Give me five minutes.” She says, and abruptly hangs up the phone.
As Eddie stares at his phone in bewilderment, Steve leans into him. “Engagement ring, huh?”
“Won’t be asking her until at least another few months, if I can even wait that long. I said something on the phone with Brooke today. It just came out.” Eddie offers, his voice soft as he explains to Steve what’s been invading his mind for the last hour. “Brooke went a bit far on the insults. She called her a skank.”
“How classy.” Steve offers dryly, his face suggesting it was anything but.
“I got so mad. I’ve never been as mad at her as I was when those words left her mouth. I said if she ever called my wife a name again, I would be calling more than just my lawyer.” He quotes himself, letting the word sink into Steve’s skin.
“Oh shit.” Steve mutters, the weight of the word kicking in.
“Yeah, it slipped out, but calling her my wife felt so damn good I couldn’t help myself. I’m not getting any younger.” Eddie pauses before saying anything else, the next confession might be too much to say out loud yet.
“C’mon. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?” Steve says, giving him some comfort.
“Her eyes when she looks at pictures of Eliza, or listens to stories about your boys, fuck I thought I never wanted another kid, but Jesus Christ, I need to see her face when she looks at one of ours.” Eddie admits out loud for the first time, the words scaring the shit out of him. Dylan in his 20s was exhausting. Could he handle another newborn? Another toddler? Another teenager?
Steve felt like he held all the power in knowing you two both wanted a kid. Feels like neither of you are ready to tell the other, so it’s a secret he’ll have to keep to himself for now. (If he’s strong enough.)
Eddie’s phone buzzes, a link appearing in a message from Maya. He opens it up and it directs him to your Pinterest page. Eddie wonders how Maya even found it. Your name isn’t connected to it. The link is specific to a board labeled Engagement Rings with a bunch of sparkle emojis surrounding it. Eddie looks at a few of them, screenshotting a handful to get the basic idea of what you’d want. He texts back Maya to thank her and puts his truck in reverse before Steve even knows what’s happening.
-
Eddie and Steve go through at least three jewelry stores before Eddie angers Steve at his indecisiveness. It isn’t that Eddie is indecisive, it’s that he’s hoping for a jeweler to look at the general vibe of your board and have the perfect ring to offer. Instead, Eddie’s met with vague indications of where he could look. These interactions all leave Eddie feeling frustrated as just walks out of the store for the next one only about ten feet away.
It takes Eddie a few tries until he finds the fairy godmother he’s been looking for, but finally he shows an engagement ring specialist the general aura of the rings you had saved, and she brings out four or five options that fall into the same category for Eddie to look at. Maybe Eddie could’ve been clearer with other stores of what he needed, but it felt as if they didn’t think he was going to buy one, anyway. Here, in this store, he feels like a respected customer, which goes a long way with him. In his shop, he spends his extra time making sure his men don’t treat any ladies like they know less just because they’re women. He hoped that even though he had a few faded tattoos and dressed alternatively, he’d be extended that same courtesy.
The helpful sales lady holds up each ring and explains to Eddie why she picked it in relevance to the photos you saved. Eddie sighs, each one in the right field, but not quite there. As she puts rings away to keep on looking, Eddie clutches onto the glass in frustration, feeling completely unprepared. Brooke basically gave him her ring and told him to propose when he had the balls. He wants you to love this ring, he wants to see it and know that it was made for you.
Maybe that’s too much to place on a ring. But for Eddie, just the simple prospect of searching for this ring means he has the hope that you will be his for the rest of his life.
Just when he’s ready to leave for the next store, she brings another one, a look on her face that tells Eddie she might’ve found exactly what he’s been looking for. She lays it out on a cloth, as Eddie marvels at it. It’s a thin, silver ring with four blue stones lined up along the band as the metal crosses over itself like vines. Eddie knows all of the jewelry you wear is silver, dainty, and has a few hints of blue. From the moment he sees it, he knows it’s the One.
Eddie holds it up for a few moments, circling it around in his hand. It takes all the self control in the world not to just head home and propose that night. He hands over a ring he took from the center console in your closet to the sales lady for your size. Within ten minutes, the papers are signed, the ring paid for, and Eddie walks out with a small white bag.
They get into the truck, the white bag small, yet significant as it sits in the back seat. “Well, that’s a step you’re taking.” Steve observes, carefully assessing his best friend’s emotional state.
“Mmhmm.” Eddie hums, staring at the bag in the rearview mirror. “And now, I’m fighting the urge to propose tonight.”
“Tonight?” Steve asks him, the speed of your relationship knocking him in the gut. “Let’s not scare her off. Plan a nice meal, set out a pretty dress on the bed for her. I bet she’d appreciate that.” Eddie considers this, knowing Steve is probably right.
So, now the ring sits in its box in the bottom of Eddie’s underwear drawer.
-
When Eddie and Steve get home, they find you on the couch napping while a movie neither of them has heard of plays on the TV, a bottle of nearly empty coke on the table next to it. Eddie sneaks upstairs to hide the evidence, the bag shoved into the bottom of a trash can, and the ring tucked safely away. When he comes back down, Steve is in the kitchen making himself a snack for the road while Eddie crouches in front of the couch to wake you up.
“Morning, baby.” He says in a low voice, petting your left cheek with his thumb.
Your breath hitches as you wake up, the last thing you remember is being giddy as you picked up your order from the front step with chips, candy, and a single bottle of pop. As you finished most of your snack, the movie started to matter less and less, a phenomenon that only occurs when you know that you’re about to pass out on the couch.
“There she is.” He mumbles as your eyes take in your surroundings. Him, the end of the movie you picked out, and the setting sun through the curtains. “Hi. I see we didn’t take my concern for the amount of pop you consume to heart?” He musters, gesturing to the side table.
You stretch, every muscle in your extended limbs feeling it. “You made it pretty clear it was for my teeth.” You mumble, unable to prevent a smile at Eddie’s floored reaction.
“I see.” He mutters, and the smirk on his face is enough to send a thrill of fear through you. “C’mon, Steve is about to leave town. Let’s go say our goodbyes.”
He tugs on your hands, lifting you up off the couch, guiding you to where Steve’s packing a recyclable grocery store bag with snacks he found around the kitchen. He comes out of the kitchen clutching the bag, his brown eyes shooting a fond look to the both of you. “Sorry, guys. Gotta get to the actual purpose of my trip eventually.”
You squint at him, pretending to consider forgiving him. “I suppose we’ll forgive you. If… you bring Eliza next time.”
“Another one bites the dust.” Steve mutters under his breath, chuckling. Eliza Harrington really has the whole world wrapped around her little pinky. (And oh, boy, does she know it.) He grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you in close for a hug. “Take care of him, will ya?”
You nod into his bicep, the soft spot he had gained for you over the last two days taking you by surprise and vice versa for him. “You know I will.”
Steve can’t resist the joke. “Oh, I know you do.”
You hit him playfully, feeling the heat creep up on your cheeks.
Steve and Eddie share an even longer hug, something about saying goodbye to old friends is always hard, you know that. As they separate, still clutching each other, Steve says something under his breath that makes Eddie hit him harshly. “Steve.”
“What?”
“Dude. Subtlety?”
Steve chuckles as he picks up his bag of goodies. “If you two are one thing, it ain’t subtle.”
You’re left questioning what could’ve possibly warranted the reaction that Eddie let out as Steve and Eddie do a few more rounds of farewell. It never seems to end as they keep bringing up new topics with each step Steve makes toward the door. It reminds you of your mom at the grocery store when you were eight.
The door finally slams, Steve yelling an "I love you" while Eddie shouts “Yeah right!” He brings out his phone soon after, sending I love you, too to Steve as a text. Well, Eddie is realizing that a next time is never guaranteed.  
The moment Steve’s SUV takes off, the low hum of the engine riding off to the end of the street, you turn back to the couch for a night in with Eddie. Alas, he has other plans. You lead him to the couch, holding his hand. Eddie tugs you back sharply, your limbs flailing as a result. “Woah, there, sweetheart.”
You give him a questioning look, wondering if you were just picturing his eyes darkening. “Hmm?”
“I asked you, very nicely, not to order pop. For one thing I think you drink too much of it, and for another there is water, juice, alcohol, even. Baby, I would just appreciate you taking my wishes into account.” His voice is serious, to a point that startles you. “So. As mentioned, there will be a consequence.”
“Like…like what?” You ask him, gulping as he traces his fingers along your collarbone so lightly you barely feel it.
He leans down, leaning into whisper, “Run.”
Your heart rate stutters as you turn away from him and run straight towards the basement, a place you know was once Dylan’s hangout spot, but now is just a dusty living room. Your feet trip over themselves as they run down the steps, pure panic and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you run to a guest room, hiding in the corner.
Upstairs, there are footsteps leading directly to the steps you just ran down. He fucking walks. He takes his time, step by step, and you can tell with each step as your heart rate picks up that he’s taunting you. He knows you’re in some corner somewhere, but he just doesn’t know which one. “Downstairs, huh? Didn’t see that coming.” Eddie admits, peering around each corner with his hands behind his back.
Fuck, you’re just a sitting duck here. You crawl up by the door, waiting patiently as he walks into the room right across from the one you’re hiding in. You make a quick run for the stairs, your breathing tight in your chest as you run, but for some reason, can’t recall why you’re running, you’re so fucking turned on right now. Your first few steps are loud and you curse out loud when suddenly Eddie’s feet are right behind yours, giggling with glee as you do.
Somehow, you make it up the steps and run straight to the kitchen, stopping at the island. He lands on the other side, his face hungry with want, his shirt untucked. There’s a wild look in his eye you can’t quite understand. You giggle as you attempt to go either way, realizing you’re stuck where you are.
“Oh, how is she gonna get out?” He taunts, watching you assess the situation.
Your instincts take over. You miraculously hop onto the island, using some sort of kicking method against the counter straight across and crawl into a dive for him, attacking his lips with yours. He accepts you without fail, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you back hungrily. You place kisses down his neck, focusing on the one spot on his collarbone you knew he loved when you sucked on it.
“Like that.” You answer him, starting to run straight towards your bedroom.
Laughter like music to Eddie’s ears leaves your mouth as you reach the top of the stairs, and he books it straight after you, not waiting another second to chase you to where he suspects is either the hallway or your closet. You’re crouched down in the hallway, hoping he’ll go straight to the bedroom. He doesn’t, seeing you as soon as he rounds the corner.
He fists your hair at the crown and you help as he lifts you to your feet. “Looks like I caught ya.” He hums, his face watching you closely. His hands let go of you and he moves to kiss you again, his tongue feeling a sort of rough it hasn’t before. “Holy shit.” He mutters, guiding you so you’re up against the wall.
You kiss him back, and for what felt like the first time, you didn’t spend an ounce thinking about it, just giving in. “Ed.” You whimper, the heat between your legs now begging you to provide friction.
“Hmm?” Eddie asks, his hands moving roughly up and down your body. “What, baby?”
“Ed. Please.” You beg him, lifting your leg so you can at least feel his boner peeking at your clothed cunt.
“Nuh uh.” He tuts, lightly pushing on the knee. Your leg falls down, as well as your face. “You don’t get off until I tell you to. So, unless I move your leg, or remove your shirt, you just let me kiss you and respond. Got it?”
You gulp, nodding your head. “Yes.” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes faltering for a fraction of a second. “Eddie?” You ask, making sure he’s okay.
Eddie loves that you can pick up on this, even as he gives you new rules and a new playground to explore. “Do you mind just…doing one thing for me? It kind of stuck with me since you moved in.”
“What?” You ask, your heat still aching, but for the sake of his sanity and for his good graces, you attempt to stand still. (You’re terrible at it.)
“Call me sir?”
You reflect on moving day, the men calling him the name that so obviously gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Apparently, when you commented on it, you made an impact. “Yes, sir.”
“Holy shit.” Eddie hisses, marveling at you now, staring up at him through your eyelashes, waiting to be told what to do. “Now, be a good girl and bend over against the wall.”
“Yes, sir.” You tell him, turning around against the wall.
“No, actually.” He says, taking you by the hand and taking you downstairs. He guides your hips so you’re right in front of the kitchen sink and he bends you over. “Much better.”
He moves your sweats and panties down only to the middle of your thighs, bending on his knees as he admires the slick that has already gathered. “So wet.” He murmurs. You whimper as he barely dips a finger into your entrance, gathering some slick on his finger. He lifts it up to your mouth, “Open.” You do so without hesitation, licking your tongue all over the three knuckles he places in your mouth, tasting your own arousal. Without warning, he takes his finger out from your mouth and wipes it on your shirt. You waited for the praise that never came.
“Oh, now brats get praise for doing what they’re told?” Eddie asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking as he pulls down his pants.
“No, sir.” You mutter, now craving that praise even more.
“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl and take this for me.” It’s the only warning you get before he slides his cock in. Your feet are practically planted right next to one another so you start to open your stance to allow him to go in deeper. “Ah.” You freeze in place, realizing your mistake.
He places his hand around your neck and brings it back to him, your neck extended feeling both incredibly uncomfortable and hot. “What did you do wrong?”
“Move without your say so.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, move without your say so, sir.”
“Here. If you ask, and I say yes, or, if I tell you to. That’s it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Eddie smiles down at your blown pupils and half open mouth. He was afraid he jumped in too deep and threw you into the bathwater, but he could feel your pussy tighten around him. You’re so into this. He gently kisses your forehead and lets go of your neck. He slides his cock in even more, and keep in mind, he hasn’t even started to fuck you, yet. He’s barely halfway in your pussy and holds onto your hips as he sees you start to squirm. “You need something baby?”
“Could you move please, sir? Just a little bit? Need it so bad.”
“Should’ve thought of that sooner, then baby.” He musters, sounding bored, though he’s anything but. “Here.” Without warning, Eddie moves his fingers against your clit and has you teetering the edge in mere minutes. You’re so close, you can see the edge. It’s right there.
He stops. He slides in a bit more into you as his mouth gets close to your ear, his breath giving you goosebumps. “Consequence.” He grunts out, his grip on your hips bruising.
Your knuckles are white as you hold onto the edge of the sink like a vice. It’s like you can taste it. He doesn’t move another inch, his heartbeat against your back and the only audible sound coming from you is your panting in need. Eddie pushes in the rest of his length and a second beautiful sound is added to the mix, one he couldn’t get enough of, even if he tried. Why would he ever try? The sound of your pussy as you gush around him is perfect. “Taking me so well.” Eddie mumbles as he places both of his hands over yours on the sink.
The whimper that leaves your throat forces its way out, your body is tense from doing everything you can not to swivel your hips or back yourself into him. “Baby, you’re so tense.” His arms flex along yours, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth. “Why, hmm?”
“You…you said not to move unless you say so.” You tell him, frustrated because, of course, he knows.
“Or, unless you ask to.” Eddie adds, his chin resting on that spot on your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
“Sir, can I please move my hips?” You ask him, hoping he isn’t teasing you again.
“Of course, baby.” Eddie’s tone is sweet and endearing. What a goddamn liar he is.
The words are like music to your ears as you start to move your hips, testing the waters. When your movement isn’t met with any punishment, you start moving more frantically, fucking yourself on his cock. Eddie lets out a sigh of content, hands raking down your back to your hips, the palms rough against your bare ass. “Sir, can I please move my feet?”
“See? My good girl is catching on. Of course you can, baby.” He answers, a smile lacing his voice.
Giddily, you move your feet further apart. “Sir, please…please take my clothes off?” You ask, waistband restricting your legs. “Wanna feel you.”
Eddie’s hands move down the apples of your ass to the sweats that started moving down your legs from the impact of your ass that had just started bouncing on him. He kisses your clothed back as you step out of them, kicking the garment aside. You feel the cotton of your shirt move up your back, your arms lifting over your head to assist Eddie as he takes it off. His lips touch the bare skin of your back, his tongue sending ripples down your spine as you shiver under his touch. Eddie grunts as you continue to swivel your hips against him.
“Fuck.” Eddie grunts, watching your naked form wither against him. He can no longer fight the incessant need that’s grown while waiting for you to ask him for movement. His hips start mercilessly pounding into you without a hint of a warning. The moans that fall from your throat are uninhibited and radically full of relief. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for, baby?”
“Mmhmm.” You nod your head, curling over the sink as your arms give out.
Eddie slows down and takes himself out, and your hand moves to push yourself off the sink the littlest bit when you realize your mistake. “You can move.” Eddie smirks, noting your obedience. He’s still standing with his pants down to his calves and his shirt disheveled. He steps out from his pants, tossing the pair toward your pile of clothes. Then he goes down each button on his shirt, slowly exposing his chest to you. As his fingers move over each one, you eye his chest hungrily, aware he’s watching your face while you watch him.
The shirt falls down his arms with a slight flop as the material hits the floor. “Sir…” you gulp, the two of you staring at one another. “Sir, can I kiss you?”
Eddie smirks, nodding his head. You take the two steps toward him and your legs wrap around his hips as you hungrily kiss each other. He turns toward the kitchen island, a small yelp leaving your mouth as the cold granite counter hits the warm flesh of your ass cheeks. He guides his cock into you, slowly pushing into your heat, watching your face as your eyes roll back. “Feel good?”
You nod, a laugh escaping your lips.
“What’s so funny, hmm?” Eddie asks, using his mouth and tongue against your neck.
“Good? Your cock is perfect, Ed.”
“What happened to sir, baby?” He asks, yet continues to rut into you. Your face falters, realizing your mistake. He lets out a laugh, pitying you.
He places his fingertips on your clit, circling slowly, making the heat that’s pooled in your stomach hotter and larger than you could even conceive. “That…that feels so good, Ed.” You tell him, letting your head fall back.
“God, I love when your tight pussy just-” he inhales through his teeth, “sucks me in… Feels like heaven.”
You giggle, the end of it cut off by a particularly rough thrust. “Heaven?” You gasp out, Eddie starts to move his fingers faster and matches the pace with his hips.
“If Heaven isn’t fucking this tight pussy all day, then I don’t fucking want it.” Eddie gasps back, a growl forming under his breath.
“Ed, I’m gonna—” the feeling overwhelms you, the edge muting your senses as your orgasm ripples through your body.
Eddie moans as you tighten more around him, a fix he figured impossible. He still rotates on your clit, you release two sharp exhales, the heat too hot, too much. “Too much, Ed.”
“You can do it, baby. I could just edge you more.” He mutters.
You giggle, frightened at the goddamn prospect of it. “No, no, no.”
“No? Well then show me. Let’s feel that pussy make a mess all over my cock.” You came from the words alone, giggles intertwined through your moans. “Oh fuck, good girl,”
“I’m so close, baby.” He moans.
“Gonna fill me up?” You ask him, your legs tight around his hips as you bite at his collar bone.
“Keep doing that.” Eddie begs you, and you happily oblige. Every nip, bite and suck at his collarbone had him gasping over you, the chain of his necklace hanging between you two. Your hands go into his hair, pulling at him and you could probably have a third one at the rate he was going at.
No probably about it, but Eddie’s panting and you’re exhausted.
Even then.
He pushes you down as he cums, your back screaming with cold as it hits the island counter. Eddie collapses on top of you, and you breathe heavily together, both catching your breath. His mouth latches on your neck, kissing a trail to your lips. “Oh, I love you.”
You smile into his kiss, your noodle legs falling from his hips. “I love you.” You find yourself wrapped in his arms, the smell of sweat and sex invades the kitchen. His chest is covered in sweat and there’s nothing better.
“Join me for a shower?” He asks after you two have a moment of silence, his fingers single handedly causing a brigade of goosebumps down your side as they move in a whisper over your skin. His other hand is wrapped on your left hand, and you don’t realize he’s unconsciously rubbing at your ring finger.
“If I can walk.” You giggle.
Eddie chuckles, pulling himself out of you and giving you a sleepy half smile. “I could always…” He begins, and then he scoops you up over his shoulder to take you up the stairs. You protest for the first minute of it, but when the view is his toned ass as he walks up the stairs, you really couldn’t complain.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken
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(Okay the very idea that this many people wanted on the taglist is INSANE to me. If you want on it, just reply and I'll add you.)
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soupinaboot · 2 months
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Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick Part 2 this is a little more in depth than the first one but only by a smug
- Epileptic, either since he was young or developed it over time due to all those concussions he keeps getting
- Favorite fruit is blackberries I have no reason
- Kinda sad but he never really had friends, yeah he hung out with Tommy and Carol but that was about it. Like after the fall out with them he was by himself, alone. I feel like if he was as popular as we think he is, he would have at least one other friend right?
- Does not have a filter at all. That one scene where he just casually says, "Oh yeah my parents are out of town because my mom doesn't trust him to not cheat on her any who!" and I feel like he just kinda does that
- Star Trek fan but he just does not comprehend that it's supposed to be nerdy (this is not my own I saw someone else headcannon this please tell me if you find them I can not)
- Absolutely sucked at ELA, could be cause of dyslexia or not whatever you want buttercup
- But on the topic of dyslexia, this headcannon is one of the main reasons why I love math nerd Stevie so much. Like, ELA test and History test are mostly long paragraphs that he needs more time to read through and his teachers don't care enough to give him extra time like he needs. But math tests tend to have a small paragraph that he can read faster or just focus on the numbers and finish on time, so he just got really good at math so he would have at least one class he passed
- Survives off of coffee, lord knows he needs it
- My most random headcannon is that since his parents were never really around or cared much for his safety, he used to hang out outside a lot and explore the wildlife around, got really into nature and animals, bought nature books etc. But his dad told him nature and animals were girly and forced him to stop even though he really loved it
- If he does ever go to college (which he doesn't have to, though if Robin went he would probably go with her), he would either get in education major and become a math teacher or some form of environmental degree
- His love language is quality time
- Among the three of them, Steve and Carol were the closest. Yes, Steve and Tommy met first, and yes they tend to call each other their best friends, but in actuality Carol and Steve were best friends. They have mean girl energy.
- He used to also play hockey when he was younger but stopped playing due to scheduling and shit. But he really liked it cause whenever he would practice there were these older figure skaters who would teach him figure skating (he kinda liked it more than hockey but he never told anyone)
- Speaking of scheduling, he is always tired due to his packed schedule. Since he was young, his dad forced him into a lot of sports and didn't really give him a break. Add that to his piano lessons, his jobs, studying that his dad forced him to do, friends, etc... he is just perpetually tired. And it fucked up his sleep schedule developing into insomnia as he got older
- Most of his and Eddie's dates are just them taking naps
- Once he meets Corroded Coffin they all become best friends. Like best fucking friends
- Specifically Steve and Jeff
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whimsyfinny · 3 months
Text
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
  Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore
 Chapter Word Count: 1762
—-MDNI—-
A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.
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I'm Not Your F*cking Maid
Please read Prologue before starting.
Chapter 1
I sat in the window booth at the typical sleepy diner, tapping my fingers on the sticky wooden table and checking the time on my phone every minute. She was late. She was never late. And now I’m getting worried. I’m sure she’s fine, I had convinced myself as I reached for my backpack and pulled out an old tome on burial rights over various different cultures. I might as well read to distract myself whilst I wait for her to arrive. I try to relax into the monotone ambience of the room, and just as I get settled into the scrawling text on the ancient pages, a growling engine pulling up outside draws my gaze away from the long paragraph on ‘Cremation’. I return my attention back to the book after a second as the engine ticks over outside for a few more beats before being turned off. The waitress returns to my table to collect the empty beer bottle I’d drained when I first arrived; she smiled and asked if she could get me anything.
“Just another one of those please,” I smiled back, hearing the bell ring as the front door opened and my gaze jumped from the waitress to Charlie as she came skipping towards where I was sitting, sliding into the booth opposite me.
“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I’m late, I had an errand to run and it took waaaayyy longer than expected.”
“It’s ok, I was starting to get a little worried so I’m just glad you’re alright….” I felt my voice trail off as I felt the booth cushion dip as someone sat next to me. I whipped my head around and came nose-to-nose with a man I’d never met before; with the most enticing green eyes I’d ever gazed into and annoyingly kissable lips pulling into a devilish smirk. Just as those lips parted to speak, I blurted out without thinking:
“Who the fuck are you?”
He blinked in slight shock, and paused like he was rethinking what he was going to say. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted a second time.
“Dean, don’t sit so close,” another man, who I didn’t even realise was there, had sat down next to Charlie. He was taller, with impressive hair and softer features than this Dean guy, who was practically sitting in my lap and eyeing me up and down. Dean gave this other man a look as if to say ‘shut up’, before turning to me once more, devilish grin back in place. He opened his mouth to speak a third time right as the waitress returned with my beer.
“Here you are,” she said sweetly, not knowing she was interrupting as Dean threw his hands up in defeat at not being able to get a word in, slumping back in the chair. The waitress put the bottle down in front of me.
“Can I get anything for your friends?” She looked around the table and before either of the men could answer, Charlie jumped in;
“Three very strong coffees please.”
Dean huffed, “Oh so I can’t even order a beer?”
“You two boys have been living on pizza and beer for God knows how long. At least drink something that contains some water,” Charlie quipped, looking at them both like they were naughty children. She sighed when she realised they looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Anyway, (Y/n), this is Sam and Dean. I know you’ve been looking for work and these two might be able to help. They’re good friends of mine and they’re-“
“Hunters,” I interrupted, feeling my blood start to run cold, “yeah I know who they are. Winchesters,” the name felt bitter on my tongue, like poison.
They must have noticed the change of tone in my voice because the table went quiet, even the mischievous glint seemed to have gone from Deans gaze as he looked at me with intrigue. Annoyed at myself for not realising who they were sooner, I grabbed my backpack and unzipped it, packing away my book. I stood up and glared down at Dean, about to bark at him to move when Charlie grabbed my wrist.
“(Y/n) what’s wrong? What are you doing? Please don’t go, we…they could really use your help right now.”
“And why should I? They’re the reason I’m struggling in the first place,” I paused, staring down at the two men who now had dark, ashamed expressions cloaking their features, almost like this wasn’t the first time they’d heard this side of the story where they weren’t always the hero’s. “They’re the reason my family is dead, and I’m all alone.” More silence hung over the booth like a dark cloud. It was Sam who spoke up after a minute or so, genuine sorrow in his eyes.
“(Y/n) I’m so, so sorry. Who-”
“Bobby Singer.”
The Winchester brothers shot each other a stunned look.
“B-Bobby?” Sam stuttered whilst Deans eyes widened. He looked like he’d taken a blow to the chest and had the air knocked from his lungs, “We didn’t know he had any living relatives…”
“He was my uncle,” Deans jaw clenched, “And you guys didn’t know because he knew I’d end up being used against him. I collected books for him to help you guys on all your bullshit missions, so haven’t I already helped you enough? Don’t you owe me some peace?” I threw my bag on the floor and picked up my beer, taking several gulps before slamming it back onto the table before continuing, the words just spilling out. “He was my only living relative for as long as I can remember. So fuck you guys for taking him away from me.”
“We loved Bobby,” Dean spoke suddenly in a grave tone and his gaze went dark as he stood up to face me. His tall form with strong, broad shoulders loomed over my much smaller stature, one of his fingers jabbing into my chest.
“Dean-” Sam started but was silenced by a wave of Deans other hand.
“You can get down off your high fucking horse if you think that you’re the only family that he had. You weren’t. He raised us more than our own father did, and I’ll be damned if I don’t think about him every day and wish he was here. You’re not the only one grieving him so stop acting like a precious little bitch and grow up,” Deans voice grew louder and more pissed as he spoke, and with every word he spoke he got closer and closer until he was right in my face, our noses almost touching. My heart rate was starting to pick up and I could feel the anger start to boil in my veins. Without missing a beat I threw my fist out and punched him in the face, making him stumble out of the booth and into the aisle in the diner. I heard gasps around me but didn’t look up. When the anger in my veins didn’t fade with the single punch, I didn’t give him a chance to gain his composure as I tackled him, making him fall on his back as I straddled him, my knees gripping his hips as I began punching him again and again right in that stupid face of his. Charlie and Sam seemed to sit there in disbelief for a few seconds before springing into action and lifting me off the older Winchester brother. Sam held me back gently but firmly as Charlie helped Dean to his feet, handing him a napkin from the table for the blood pouring from his nose and lip.
“You crazy bitch!” Dean spat.
“Fuck you!” I tried to break free so I could slap him but Sam held me tight.
The whole diner had gone silent as they watched me lose my shit, some amused but most were horrified. It took a few more moments of silence before they all went back to what they were doing and Sam let go of me, watching me like I was a time bomb. I heard Charlie giggle quietly.
“Holy crap (Y/n) I had no idea you had that in you. I’m actually a little impressed, you were always so quiet.”
“What can I say,” I turned to glare at Dean “I learnt from the best,” as I turned away I heard him mutter under his breath.
“Yeah you aren’t the only one.”
For a second time I saw red, and before Sam could grab me I spun on my heel and threw my fist out. CRACK.
*
The car doors slammed closed next to me after I was crammed into the back of Deans car. It wouldn’t have been that bad - the seats were oh so plush - if it wasn’t for the handcuffs tight round my wrists and duct tape across my lips. Oh, and that my thigh was rubbing up against the man that I had just assaulted. Dean was in the same situation with the handcuffs and the tape, his long legs having to spread wide so he can fit in the back of his own car. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as I watched Sam and Charlie apologising to the diner staff through the front window. I was trying to find any sort of distraction right now, as Deans body temperature was hot and I could feel it through both his jeans and mine as he pressed into me. He was starting to make me sweat a little. Luckily it wasn’t long before Charlie and Sam hopped into the car, Sam in the drivers seat. They both turned to face us, smiles of bewilderment on their faces as if they were still processing what had just happened. Sam spoke first.
“(Y/n) is now officially barred from that diner, and honestly they wanted to call the cops. Charlie managed to save your ass as she still had her FBI badge on her,” he shot her a look and she grinned.
“So because now, you technically owe me a debt of gratitude, you will be staying in the bunker with the boys and helping them with their research.” She chimed, like she had won a game. In the end they got what they wanted.
I groaned and rolled my eyes. Of course. I heard Dean huff next to me, and he sounded just as displeased as I did. To be honest at this point, that’s fair.
Although he had it coming.
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Up Next
Chapter 2
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His Longhorn Jersey - Jake "Hangman" Seresin x f!reader
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Summary: 1.4k words. At a Texas Longhorns football game, y/n bumps into a stranger and spills beer all over both of them. Good thing the handsome stranger is forgiving and willing to lend y/n his jersey.
Warnings: alcohol, fluff!!!!, she/her reader pronouns
a/n: this was supposed to be like. a couple short paragraphs as an intro for another jake fic i'm writing but then it turned into ✨this✨ and it is now its own independent thing. which is a great thing for everyone bc the other fic is very angsty. enjoy!
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Jake and y/n met at a Longhorns football game. She was in her senior year at the University of Texas when she quite literally bumped into the cocky blonde. He was about to bite out a harsh “watch it” but the words died on his tongue when he caught a glimpse of y/n’s face. He nearly got lost in her kind eyes before she started profusely apologizing.
“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going and-ah hell, I spilled beer on your jeans,” y/n’s mind was running a mile a minute. Her eyes frantically darted around the crowded vendor and food lot outside the stadium, searching for the nearest napkins she could offer the incredibly handsome stranger. She might’ve been more composed and level-headed if she hadn’t walked into a wall of pure muscle.
Jake chuckled, the small stains on his jeans long forgotten before he reached for y/n’s shoulders to steady her frame and racing thoughts. She stopped short at the feel of his calloused hands on her exposed skin, wide eyes peeking up at the stranger through her eyelashes.
“It’s alright, darlin’. I was in your way. How ‘bout we get you out of that shirt?” Jake suggested with a flirty grin. y/n blinked a few times. What the fuck did he just say to her? She was sorry, but not sorry enough to strip on command. Jake saw the confusion turning to disgust on y/n’s face and he quickly backtracked. “Because of the beer! You’ve got beer all over your shirt, sweetheart. You can wear my jersey if you’d like,” he finished, hoping the damage wasn’t already done.
Oh. In her haste, y/n hadn’t even realized she’d spilled beer on herself. A lot of it, actually. The plastic cup still grasped in her hand was almost empty from how much had sloshed on her white shirt. The shirt was quickly becoming see-through from the sticky liquid, garnering side eyes from some nearby fans. Shit. There weren’t enough napkins at the nearby food trucks to soak up the mess she’d made of herself. She really didn’t feel like dropping $50 on an overpriced Longhorns t-shirt either, but she couldn’t possibly accept the man’s jersey.
“I can’t ask you to do that-” y/n trailed off, realizing she didn’t even know his name. Before she could finish, Jake had smoothly pulled his jersey off with one hand. Looking respectfully was becoming increasingly difficult when his white tank top left little to the imagination.
“You’re not asking, darlin’. I’m offering,” Jake’s dimples popped out with his gentle smile. y/n opened and closed her mouth a few times. Was this even real? The determined look in his eyes had her giving in far too quickly.
Jake led her toward a less crowded area of the tailgate lot. In between the cover of several pickup trucks, y/n quickly swapped her ruined game day shirt for Jake’s jersey. The name ‘Seresin’ was embroidered on the back of the jersey. She practically had the Longhorns team roster memorized, so she knew damn well that there was no player named Sersin on the team. Mystery Man Seresin. The man before her must’ve been a serious fan to have a custom jersey made.
“So, Seresin, you got a first name?” y/n asked the taller man with a raised eyebrow.
“Jake Seresin, at your service,” he introduced himself with a wink, holding out his hand to shake. y/n told him her name and his grin grew. 
The pair ditched the respective friends they came with and headed toward the stadium. Jake bought them new beers, refused to let y/n pay, but insisted on carrying both drinks back to their seats, teasing y/n’s clumsiness. Jake was impressed to find y/n knew more about the game and players than he did, often calling out before the refs. By the end of the night, both of their throats were raw from cheering and yelling. While the rest of the fans headed out of the stadium to celebrate Texas’s win, Jake and y/n stayed seated for a while. Conversation between the two flowed easily and endlessly, despite the fact that they’d both lost their voices. It wasn’t until lights started shutting off around them that they realized how late it had gotten.
Jake wasn’t exactly the gentleman his mama raised him to be some days, but for y/n he was ready to pull out all the stops. He walked her to her car and reached to open the driver's door for her before y/n stopped in front of him, turning to rest her hip against the vehicle. Jake mirrored her actions and placed a hand on the hood, leaning over her shorter frame. y/n studied his face for a moment, memorizing his moonlit features. Jake did the same, his eyes gravitating toward y/n’s lips. When they broke out of their shared trance y/n broke eye contact and cleared her throat. With a gentle tug to the hem of Jake’s jersey, y/n looked up to grin at him cheekily.
“You know, I normally make guys buy me dinner first before I start undressing for ‘em,” y/n joked, moving to shed the jersey and return it to Jake. Jake’s free hand planted itself on y/n’s waist, holding the jersey in place and making her eyes snap toward him.
“Keep it, darlin’. You can give it back next time,” he replied with a smirk. y/n wondered how many girls he had charmed before her. She couldn’t even be mad–it was working on her too. She rolled her eyes, but the butterflies in her stomach gave rise to a blush spreading across her face. Even with the minimal light, Jake could see the way her face shifted.
“Next time? That’s a little presumptuous, cowboy,” y/n said pointedly, though she was mostly teasing. Jake nodded. Fair enough.
“Next time,” Jake said definitively. He wordlessly gestured for y/n’s phone and she gave it to him. She had a questionable amount of trust and faith in a man she’d met less than five hours ago. He typed his phone number into her contacts, saving it as “Jake 🍺🍺”. y/n threw her head back in laughter at the clever addition of the beer pints, earning a chuckle from Jake as well. After the laughter faded, she was still left with a lingering smile. When she stepped away from the car, she was careful not to kick her boots against Jake’s. He tutted when y/n tried to reach for the door handle herself; instead, he reached across and held the door open for her.
With the car door serving as a barrier between their seemingly synced bodies now, they were caught in another quiet moment. y/n had half a mind to get in her car and drive off, leaving the man who was five hours short of a stranger in her wake. The other half of her mind had a far better idea though. Before she could think twice, she grabbed Jake by the strap of his tank top, pulling his lips down to meet hers. The kiss was gentle for a split second before Jake’s brain caught up with his body and he leaned in deeper. His fingers ached to pull y/n in by her waist, but he settled for cupping her cheek and the back of her neck in either hand. A breathless minute later they pulled away. y/n took pride in the way Jake’s chest rapidly fell and rose; he took the same pride in her slightly mussed hair and flushed cheeks.
“Next time,” y/n stated in agreement as she got in her car. She rolled the window down and Jake immediately leaned in through it, his face inches from y/n’s once again.
“Next time, darlin’.” He left her with a final peck to her lips that was far too short for y/n’s liking before he patted the roof of y/n’s car and walked away. Right before y/n pulled out of the parking lot, y/n caught a glimpse of her new favorite Longhorn fan pumping his fist in the air with a wide grin as he saddled up into his lifted truck.
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a/n: pls lmk what y'all think! this is the first fic i've written in one sitting in a long time and it was v fun :)
get notified when i post new fics!
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restinslices · 2 months
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If it's alright with you, can you write the lin kuei trio with a s/o, who is a detective tracking down a serial killer who is going to target s/o and the lin kuei trio's reaction to it.
I can confidently say I have never gotten a request like this
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Handle it or he's handling it 
It's as simple as that 
Did Bi-Han let his own father die? Yes. But for whatever reason he didn't fuck with him 
I'm assuming he fucks with you though, so the thought of someone hunting you down is not something he's very fond of 
I don't think he'd have any strong feelings about you being a detective. Not everyone can be out and about fighting people from other realms. Some people gotta do some protective work for the smaller people 
So you being a detective is whatever to him
When you say you're hunting down a serial killer, I don't think he'd have any strong emotions either. He just assumes you'll catch them soon. His faith is pretty high 
When it's revealed the serial killer is hunting you, that obviously becomes a big problem 
A problem he has to solve 
If you're like “No Bi-Han! I got it! Let me find them and end this!” he'll consider giving you a set amount of time before he handles it 
Doesn't know how he's gonna track this unknown person down but his faith in himself is stupidly high 
If you find them and lock whoever up then great for you 
If the agreed time passes and they're still on the loose, he becomes Batman. Get out the way. He got it 
No point in protesting either. Just sit at home and let him figure it out 
He becomes the annoying boss in police movies. Y'all know what I mean 
Definitely finds the person eventually and finishes the job for you 
Hooray?
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Honestly I think all the brothers are a “handle it or I'll handle it” case 
Thoughts on you being a detective are positive. I think he can see how difficult that certain job would be 
He's fighting with his fists. You're using your brain. You're both helping people. 
He admires it lowkey 
You're hunting down a serial killer now? Ok. Be safe-
What do you mean you're a target now?
He kinda saw it coming but it's still unfortunate 
He'd understand still wanting to lead this case and he applauds standing your ground, but he's also worried because ya know, you could be killed 
He'd try to assist but at some point he would really want you to let someone else handle it 
By someone else, he means him 
He's a trained assassin. He can probably hunt this guy faster than you can 
Has more patience than Bi-Han but if a lot of time passes and they're not handled, then he'll step in 
He probably would've warned you beforehand that this was something that would happen but as we can see, you either didn't listen or still slipped up 
It's not that he thinks you can't handle it… kinda. 
You're just not moving quick enough 
I think he’d be nice enough to remind you he has faith in you but would vocalize his concerns when it comes to you still working on this case 
Whether or not you decide to drop it is up to you, but he’s definitely not 
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Thoughts on you being a detective I think are also positive
He thinks you're doing a good thing
The Lin Kuei can't help everyone. They do more bigger things 
So you helping civilians is great to him. It's a good cause 
I think he'd also enjoy hearing about your cases and chiming in whenever 
Hunting down a serial killer? Well, he guesses someone has to do it 
He'd be confident enough in your abilities to catch this person 
But then you're the next target
I think honestly all the brothers would have a similar reaction. So much so, I don't think there'd be much of a change. I probably could've written this in one paragraph 
He could possibility be the most cooperative when it comes to letting you handle it
Gives you the most time to figure it out and tries to help out as a partner 
Doesn’t wanna step on your toes but if you’re taking too long, he’s gonna do his own investigating 
Probably asks Kuai Liang for assistance 
I’m not saying any of them would find this person in days time, but they certainly believe they will 
Worried about your safety as you could imagine, so he wants you to sit this one out 
He’s probably conflicted, like what I said with Kuai Liang. One part is like “yeah, you gotta find this person!” And the other is like “you need to sit down so you’ll be safe”
Probably prefers for you to do all your investigating at home. Any leads you have you’ll either follow together, he’ll follow it, or someone else will 
I think all the brothers will want to help as much as they could and would wanna handle this serial killer. And by handle, I don’t mean letting them go to prison. You can get out of that if you play your cards right 
The only real difference is how much they let you help after they find out you’re a target 
Bi-Han is like “I gave you time. You’re done. I got it”. Kuai Liang is “I knew this would happen and I know you wanna stand your ground, but maybe take a step down” and Tomas is “I get it so let me help”
This is kinda boo boo. Also I hate their little moodboards I made. It’s sickening
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dumplingsjinson · 8 months
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hello!! can you please do a list of “texts that make me want to throw my phone at the wall because it gave me butterflies and idk how to deal with all of those feelings” prompts? i’ve been in a mood for teeth rotting fluff idkw haha thank youuuuu x
List of “texts which gives me mad butterflies” prompts
“Wish you were here with me :((
Sending the cutest, most wholesome meme and attaching a simple “Us” at the end. (MATE, STFU AND TAKE MY RING AND ACCEPT MY MARRIAGE PROPOSAL RIGHT NOW, I’m not even JOKING) 
“You’ve got me smiling like an idiot right now, you know?”
“I miss youuu :((“ 
“So when do I get to see your pretty face again?”
Them sending a selfie of themselves with the caption of “;)” and the other character just going feral over the picture
Character B waking up to a long paragraph of Character A saying how much they love them
“Good morning/night, love <3”
Character B using Character A’s name/nickname in their texts in a playful manner (Just fucking take my SOUL already, this shit makes me melt every time!) 
Instead of a text, Character A receives a voice message from Character B and it’s the cutest shit ever. Bonus points if it’s a voice message after they just woke up, and their voice is a lil’ raspy and UGH.
“Can’t stop thinking about you <33”
Character B taking a picture of something, sending it to Character A and adding “this reminded me of you!” or “Saw this and thought of you <3” (could either be something funny or cute or alludes to inside joke of theirs — the possibilities are endless)
Messages where they’re asking how each other’s day has been. It’s so simple but SO sweet. 
“I don’t know if you know this, and if you weren’t already aware… I’M SO IN LOVE WITH YOUUUU <333” (bonus: the other character replying “Bubba, trust me, I know”) 
“I WANNA SEE YOU AGAINNN AAHHH” “we literally just parted ways” “i know but i already miss youuu :((“ (as much as I say I don’t like clinginess, THIS TYPE OF ENERGY IS SOMETHING I WANT) 
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morganbritton132 · 1 year
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Ik you said some of Eddie’s “fans” don’t like Steve but do you think any of Eddie’s fan would go out of their way to harass Steve purposely? Either out in public, through his Facebook, or even like physical mail? Like how would Eddie even react to that especially after the doctor’s office video debacle?
I absolutely think that some people would go out of their way to harass Steve.
Eddie uses his socials to showcase his life so you get a very real and authentic view of who he is, and sometimes you get even more than he intended to show because he never remembers to end his live streams. I think it’s inevitable that some fans are going to feel like they know him personally, but it becomes a problem when they think they know what’s best for Eddie.
People loved Steve when Eddie was posting funny videos about his clumsy husband. They loved him more when Eddie got serious and spoke about Steve’s health issues. It was only once Steve stopped being perfect that they started speaking up.
And though, it is few. They speak loudly.
Steve’s not on any social media other than Facebook, but his Facebook page is private. He doesn’t accept friend requests from people he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t use Facebook Messenger because he refuses to download the app.
What Steve does get on Facebook is a lot of people tagging him in posts about how much they hate him or how awful he is. He gets a lot of ads on his timeline with TMZ articles about how Eddie should end his marriage, and he gets people commenting under them knowing that Steve sees them.
And it’s upsetting, but the letters are worse.
The first one is mailed to his school. It wouldn’t be that hard to figure out where Steve taught. Some of his students are in Eddie’s comments and some post videos of themselves wearing their school colors.
Steve shreds the first letter.
He doesn’t know what to do with it and he doesn’t know what to say when Eddie asks him later that day how school was. He swallows hard and says, “It was fine. Nothing interesting happened.”
And Eddie smiles, and lie doesn’t feel so bad.
The second letter is mailed to their house.
It’s sitting on top of a stack of bills with his name printed neatly on top when he gets home from work. Eddie mentions that he got something from a former student, and Steve smiles even as he reads the first of many hateful paragraphs, and he says, “Thank you.”
This letter stays neatly folded in his nightstand with the third letter, and the fourth that details how they want Steve to have a seizure and die. He never says anything. He doesn’t even know how to begin to have that conversation, and he doesn’t want to.
He doesn’t want Eddie to be upset, so – so why is Steve so upset when he comes back inside after taking their trash to the curb and sees Eddie holding them. Why is he angry? Why is his ears ringing when Eddie asks how long this has been going on, and Steve just snaps, “Why are you going through my things? Who – who gave you the right?”
“I was checking to see if you needed a refill on your migraine medication before I go out of town,” Eddie snapped back, yanking the letters away when Steve reached for them, “What the fuck, Steve? How long has this been going on for?”
“Eddie, stop-“
“Were you planning on telling me that someone is sending you death threats?”
“No.”
Eddie stops long enough for Steve to snatch the letters back and rip them to shreds like he should have done in the first place. Steve’s angry with himself for getting caught and for the sad kicked puppy look on Eddie’s face, and if he wasn’t so – Why is he crying? He’s not even upset so why is he crying? Why can’t – “What did I do wrong? I don’t understand why people don’t like me."
“Stevie,” Eddie says, voice weak the way it is when he’s trying not to cry and this is Steve’s fault too. He didn’t want to upset Eddie and now he’s going to cry. “Baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re perfect, Stevie. You’re perfect for me and if some – some fucking asshole with stamps can’t see that then that’s on them. Not you.”
“You don’t – no one deserves this shit, okay?” Eddie tells him, practically begs him to understand that. “This is serious, Steve. They have our address and they’re making threats. You can’t hide something like this. You have to understand that.”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
“I’m upset, babe. I’m upset that my so-called fans are treating you like this and that you’ve looked so miserably lately, and you felt like you couldn’t tell me why. You are more important to me than any of this, and if I have to stop doing shows or posting online than-“
“No,” Steve snaps at him, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t want you to stop, Eddie. I don’t want this to be another thing you can’t do because of me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, Ed. I don’t know, but you stopped touring because of me. You can’t kiss your husband at the top of a rollercoaster like you want to because my head’s too fucked up. You can’t even sleep half the time because you can’t trust me to not leave. You can’t have flashing lights at your shows, or watch fun movies, or –“
“Steve, I don’t give a fuck about those things. Do you think I’m unhappy?”
“The whole world thinks you’re unhappy, Eddie!”
“I don’t care about the world, Steve. I care about you.”
There comes a point where the conversation fizzles out and the anger leaves, but the sadness remains. Steve goes to bed because there’s nothing else to do, and Eddie goes to his studio.
He sets up his phone and he records a short Tiktok saying, “The meet-and-greet in Indianapolis this Friday is canceled and I won’t be attending the Corroded Coffin concert this weekend or any following weekend indefinitely. You can thank the fucker sending death threats to my family.”
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greenunoreversecard · 20 days
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hi! can i request remus lupin x reader where reader is going through a break up and remus confesses his feelings for them? hope this makes sense and totally okay if not!
A/N: ofc! I'm just gonna do male bc the gender wasn't specified. Again, don't do fem or fem aligned so sorry if that's what you was hoping for. Also not beta read.
-E/N is exes name
-S/T is stuffed toy. I was gonna do stuffed animal but the letters together... aren't a good thing.
Minor hints to internalized homophobia, but to be fair it's the 70s so what do you expect?
Reader is in Gryffindor and is the fifth person in he Marauder's dorm
Synopsis: When the girl you were dating to distract yourself from Remus breaks up with you, spewing nasty words along the way, Remus is there to show you just how wrong the both of you were.
That Daft Cunts got nothin on me, love
Remus Lupin x M! Reader
Honestly, you knew to expect E/N's breakup. You saw the signs, and you'd known it wasn't long before it ended.
Doesn't mean it hurt any less.
You'd spent a good portion of time, locked in your dorm. No ones heard much from you after the letter you got at breakfast, but with the sun high in it's arch across the sky, nearing late noon it was only a matter of time before someone came to find you.
There's a knock at the door, and a muffled voice follows it, raspy and baritone.
Remus.
"Y'alright, love? May I come in?"
"Fuck off," You sniffle out in weak retaliation, furiously swiping your eyes and sniffling.
"Do it yourself?" He quips back playfully. A big reason for the breakup, as stated in E/N's letter (not even in person, that fucking wanker. Through a damn letter) was the proximity of you and Remus.
There's not much denying it, you definitely have had the biggest crush on Remus, and E/N was rather a means of hiding the fact, but it doesn't mean you didn't care. It doesn't mean the insults she'd hurled at you hurt any less, either.
"Right then, in I go.." the door gently creaks open and you bury your face in your favorite S/T. As he sees the sight of you, he comes gently, quickly making his way to your bed on the far side of the room and you feel your bed dip next to your head. You feel as his hand gently starts to massage your scalp, lulling you to a sort of blissful calm.
"Nasty breakup with E/N I take it?"
You nod swiftly, not having removed yourself from the stuffy but having wormed yourself partially into Remus's lap.
"Aw, it's alright lovey, 've gotcha now. What's it read, then?"
"The reasoning were true, but the insults where just bloody mean" You muffled whine quietly rings out.
"Is it alright if I read it?"
As his quiet voice asks the question you've so been dreading, you sigh heavily but finally removed yourself from the toy. All you see is the soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips, and the gentle furrow of his brow as he looks down at you.
You reach across Remus to the bedside table behind him, grabbing a crumpled ball of paper and flattening it, before handing it to him.
You both sit quietly for a moment, you with your head and upper shoulders splayed across his lap, grip strong as a vice on he stuffed toy.
His small smile from seeing you has quickly turned into a angry frown at the words she spewed at you.
"This daft fuckin cunt? Who she thinks she is, saying shit like this? Bloody fuck mate- right as hell id be upset if it's at me." He say with a angry huff of breath, body rigid. Though, he quickly remembers your in his presence and softens again.
"'m sorry that twat said those things, lovey."
"it's alright, I guess. Nothing that wasn't deserved."
"You don't though. Not right of her to say that shit," he pauses for a moment, before his demeanor becomes more nervous," is it true, though? The second or third paragraph had said something about you being in love with me?"
This causes you to stiffen, before hiding your face again.
"...yeah"
"speak up, love. I can't hear you."
You hurt and remove your face.
"Yes. I dated her to forget about you. About... about being in love with a guy."
He pauses at that, his body stiffening but his hand still gently stroking your hair.
"It's not wrong, you know. Being in love with guys. I mean fuck- you know about Sirius. Does that mean he's wrong for who he loves?"
"But he's different"
"How?"
"I-" you huff. "I don't know. It just... it doesn't seem fair to you, Remus"
"How is it wrong to me?"
"Because it's putting you in a position where it'll be awkward."
At this he quirks a brow. "And how is that?"
"Because.."
"Cause how? Because I don't love you back? I assure you I do"
"I-"
You start to speak before his sentence finally hits you. Mouth forming an 'O' shaping and blinking rapidly
"Fucking- what?"
"I love you back. I feel the same towards you as you do me"
"I-..." You pause, face burning a scarlet shade as you lick your lips," Why?"
He laughs lightly as your response.
"Why wouldn't I?"
You blink owlishly at him some more, and he's looking at you mirthfully with that know-it-all smirk of his.
"Kiss me?" You say without thinking.
He laughs heartily leaning down. His lips ghost yours as he murmurs against your lips 'Who am I to deny you, my love?' and gently presses his lips against yours.
He tastes of chocolate and stale coffee. And honestly, he tastes a bit like what you think home would.
as you unwillingly pull away; he murmurs in the love charged quiet; "Promise that daft cunts got noting on me, especially with those fuckin words"
-----
A/N: Sorry if it's not great or ooc. Also, please like reblog and comment!! I love to interact with y'all!!!
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lennadanvers · 11 days
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oh my gosh, your writing is so great -- thank you for sharing! if you're taking requests, would you consider something featuring simon and a christian reader? (honestly, i'm really glad that there's a longfic writer in the fandom who doesn't focus on nsfw scenarios. the 'delirium' section in your masterlist is a really cute addition that i personally haven't seen before, and i'm older than you are. haha sorry for rambling, thanks again! <3)
Hi! I’m glad you enjoy my work!
I'm gonna be honest; I wrote a whole paragraph about nsfw-centered fics and what I think about them, and ended up deleting it bc it wasn't the point at all. It's too easy for me to start rambling sometimes. In short, I'm not in the mood to read nsfw sometimes, and I wish there were more sfw fanfics, so that's what I usually write.
Let me warn you, I’m not an expert in any religion, so there can be mistakes here (and this is kinda (very) nonspecific). I did my best though. Also, sorry it took me so fucking long. Hope you like it!
Mercy
Ghost doesn’t believe in your God.
Maybe Simon once did. He’s not sure. How could he, after everything he’s gone through? If he had any faith inside him, it should have survived. If a God like that existed, they should have helped him.
But there’s no faith left in him, and he hasn’t been helped by any God.
He knows only one pair of hands that are holy. Only one forgiveness he’d spend this life- and any other- seeking. Only one name he mutters before falling asleep. There is only one place he goes to every Sunday, and one face he wants to see when he dies.
Yours.
Maybe he does believe in god -he believes in you, after all.
He’s seen you pray. You close your eyes, sometimes move your mouth without talking, the words taking possession of your lips. It’s the same when he mouths “I love you” under the mask, in the shadows. He thinks your God hears you the same way you hear him: you don’t, but you know.
He's noticed how you pat the cross hanging around your chest when you need support. When Ghost is about to jump into a storm of bullets, when Johnny is messing with a suspicious wire, when he’s only got one magazine left… He pats his chest: the heart beating inside is yours.
He’s gone with you to church. You keep quiet when you’re there, reverential for the sacred atmosphere. When Simon is at your house, he doesn’t talk much either. He bows at the pictures on your walls, though, a savior depicted in all your glory.
He knows when you’re scared, you ask your God for protection. When he was injured in battle, the only thing he thought about was you. The only one at the hospital, the only one tending to his wounds for months, the only one.
Ghost doesn’t believe in God. He does, however, worship you. That’s why he’s standing at the altar, looking at you in your white dress. He is a religious man, after all. A devotee. One to whom you’ve granted entry to Heaven, now that you’re saying yes. One that is loved, even with blood under his nails and gunpowder deep in his pores.
Ghost is a sinner that’s been forgiven before even asking. A coarse attempt at being like you; so pure, good and loving. You let him kneel before you once, a ring in his trembling hand; you took him. You put one on his finger, a gift he’ll never be able to repay, but that he’s infinitely thankful for. He’s not perfect, he’ll never be; and he knows. But he’s doing his best, and you know that. So you kiss him as if he were.
When you leave church -hand in his, husband and wife- he speaks to your God for the first and only time. Says only two words.
Thank you.
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