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sadesluvr · 6 months

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Three Simple Wishes - William Afton x Reader

It’s Vanessa’s birthday, but her father William ends up getting the best present.

A/N: Pure filth, yet again. This has gone through a BILLION iterations, but I’ve finally done it…I’m off to horny jail. Minors DNI!

Word count: 3.5K

Tags: SMUT / Dom + Sub dynamics / Dub-con / Age gaps (Reader is in her 20’s) / Infidelity / Costume sex / Perv! William / Oral sex, male and female receiving / Sex toys (Vibrator) / Multiple orgasms / Unprotected sex / Creampies / LOTS of use of the term 'Princess' / William is just NASTY, ok? And a bad father but we knew that

Being a Rent-A-Princess was far from glamorous, but sometimes it was rewarding. As for the other times? Having to endure sleazy men who hire you for bachelor parties, and cleaning yourself up from that one sickly child who puked on your dress.

You hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days.

It seemed promising enough to start, until you’d apparently shown up an hour early.

“I’m sorry,” a man named William said. You’d quickly learned he was the birthday girls’ father. “Sarah should’ve told you that they were going to the movies first. It’s funny how she can forget that, but not to nag about everything I do,” he said matter of factly, swigging his drink.

So he was the complaining husband. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

“Well, I can wait…” you sighed, playing with the sparkly material of your dress. Mrs Afton had specifically requested that you be a ‘fairy princess’ - so you were dressed in a flowery tiara, crème coloured wings, and a corset-like dress with off the shoulder straps and a tulle skirt that stopped just by your knees.

“Want a drink?” William asked, breaking the tension. He seemed nice enough, albeit slightly dorky with his large glasses and oddly coloured tie. Apparently he’d come from work.

You politely shook your head, biting your lip as you directed your attention around the room, somewhat oblivious to the way the man was staring at you.

He’d heard of his wife’s “genius” idea to hire a princess, but for some reason the concept had never really manifested in his mind. He’d always seen them as slightly cringey with weird, overly heavy makeup, but you were a dream come true. Shy, polite - perfectly submissive. He wondered what was hidden under the layers of tulle and petticoat; if you’d squirm when he ran his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart so he could finger your pussy. He wanted to see you in action; if you’d stay in character whilst he pounded you into the counter, tears of ecstasy forming in your eyes as you’d squeal when you came around his cock.

His relationship with his wife had gotten stale a long time ago, and it was time that he got a thanks.

“You know, I’ll pay you for this extra hour,” he announced. “Can you do a little bit of your act? I wanna see if you’re good enough for my ‘Nessa,” he smiled, eyes wide and sparkling. Even though he was a grown man, it was actually rather cute. You loved seeing devoted fathers -

How could you say no?

You picked up your wand and stood in the middle of the kitchen before you curtseyed.

“Your wish is my command…” you said gently, peering up at him through your lashes. It was a classic move in the business, but it drove the man crazy. He smirked, finishing the last of his beer before he walked around the counter to join you, leaning against the counter.

It was then you realised how much bigger he was than you; tall, with a large chest and limbs. What struck you the most was his biceps and thighs - he was far more built than the typical man his age. For some reason you now felt nervous, but it wasn’t the usual pre-show jitters.

“…How may your Princess be of assistance?”

His Princess. You were all his for the next hour.

“I get three wishes, don’t I?” he hummed.

You pursed your lips and nodded, rolling the wand in your hands as your heart pounded against your chest.

“Well, for my first wish I’d like a dance with you,” William said, smirking at your startled reaction.

“I’m not a great dancer…” you said bashfully.

William stepped closer, reaching out a hand to adjust the material of your sleeves down so that they were level, noticing how your skin freckled with goosebumps upon his touch.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll teach you,” he said softly, taking your hand in his and beginning to lead you into some kind of ballroom dance.

There was no music but he hummed a deep, methodic melody that came from inside his chest, almost like a satisfied purr of a lion. He was careful as he held you, as if you were a porcelain doll, making sure that his body was a safe distance from yours. Still, your bare legs and the tickly material of your dress occasionally rubbed against his own, earning an apologetic ‘sorry’ from you every time.

You were beyond perfect. Quite literally a fantasy come to life.

Once you were done, you broke away.

“Where did you learn to move like that?” you chuckled.

“I play a character too,” he said vaguely. “I’m very comfortable in my body. Besides, my wife always said I was good with my hands…” he finished, raising his brows slightly. You bit your lip and cocked your head, giggling at his entendre.

“What’s your second wish?”

“A kiss,” he said bluntly, and you glanced at the ground shyly. This was certainly beyond your means. Still, you were technically on the job, and you’d jokingly kissed people on the cheek before as part of it. This was the only gig you had that was getting you through college, and you couldn’t lose it.

You nodded, adjusting your tiara before you leaned in, standing on your toes as you planted a kiss on his cheek. His skin was slightly prickly because of his beard, contrasting against your soft, slightly sticky lips. Pulling away, you realised you’d left a smudge of your lip gloss on his cheek.

William hummed at the contact, unable to suppress his growing erection. You smelled heavenly, and your kiss was even better. So gentle, so precise…

“That was lovely, sweetheart, but I didn’t say on the cheek,”

Your eyes widened and you gasped.

“Mr Afton — I can’t…You’re married,”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively. “It’s all just make-believe. Besides, she’s not here…”

You remained frozen as he got closer to you, his hands again brushing the sleeves of your dress, this time beginning to slide them down your arms. You knew what he wanted.

“Mr Afton, please,” you begged, glancing around the kitchen. If this endeavour was going to happen, it shouldn’t be by a children’s birthday cake. “Not here…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice raspy. The cracks were beginning to show, and his eyes were filled with lust. “This way,”

He led you down the hall and up the stairs. Before you knew it, you were in the Afton’s bedroom, the door left slightly ajar.

“Get on the bed for me, Princess,” he grinned. “I want to look at you,”

William chuckled as you immediately obeyed, pulling yourself up towards the headboard, sat on your knees, staring up at him expectedly. You were quivering, and it only made his cock harder.

The tulle ran up your thighs, its poorly constructed bottom beginning to leave nothing to the imagination. Your chest was heaving, exposing the outline of your breasts. Even though you were scared, you were so ready for him.

“I don’t want to get caught…” you said softly, a lump bobbing in your throat as he slowly approached you, staring you down like a piece of meat. “I’ll be fired,”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess,” he smiled, beginning to loosen his belt as he kept staring at you. “But it works two ways, you know…”

You nodded.

“Is this your final wish?”

“No. I like to savour my treats…” he purred, pulling down his zipper. “Look up at me, doll,”

You obeyed, letting him take your face with his free hand, cupping your chin as he guided you to his cock. He was a little over average, and it was thick, with a prominent vein running along its side. He groaned and threw his head back as your warm mouth enveloped his cock, precum acting as lube and coating your lips like gloss. His grip remained firm on your face as he began to pump in and out of your mouth slowly, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. You hollowed your cheeks on his cock, guiding your head along the skin as you used your tongue to lick the sides, earning a groan from William.

“Has this pretty Princess sucked cock before?” he teased. “Of course you have…You’ve never had one like this before though, hm? Married, daddy dick,”

You managed a ‘Mmfh’ in response, unable to speak. The man chuckled and let go of your face, letting you do the work whilst he caressed your body, admiring your wings and stroking your neck, his hands making their way down to your chest. You wasted no time in using your hands to grip his base, holding him still as you began to eagerly suck him off, taking him as far as you could whilst your hands jerked him off at the base.

He huffed, and began to unbutton his shirt, leaving him in a vest, showing off his slightly hairy chest. He looked down at you, and you looked up at him, secretly satisfied at the way his eyes were half lidded with desire. It was his daughter's birthday, and his wife was 30 mins away, and yet here he was getting a blowjob from the hired entertainment. It was so sinful, and he’d barely even begun.

“Go deeper, Princess. For me…” he commanded, his voice breathy. You did, and his thick tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Pulling away, a trail of spit connected your mouth to his cock, and the man tutted, scooping it with his finger to run it over your swollen lips.

Had you disappointed him?

“I can do it —” you insisted, psyching yourself up to go again, but he stopped you, bending down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Lie back,” he said simply. “I have a surprise of my own,”

He opened a drawer, fumbling around through the contents before he pulled out a box — to a vibrator.

“It’s all clean,” he said, holding it up teasingly. “You got one of these, Princess? Or are you too much of a good girl for them – Maybe there’s a Prince around to do the job for you…?”

You shook your head. There was one guy named Mike who’d sold you the tires of your car once, but you’d never really pursued him.

“Hm,” William hummed gleefully. “ ‘Got this for Sarah as a fun little Valentine's gift ‘n she never used it. She’s a fucking prude, as you can tell. But you’re going to be my good little princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” you replied, and he smirked as he opened the box, wasting no time in sorting it out.

In a moment he clicked it on, and the quiet house was filled with whirring which filled you with anticipation. It’d been a while since you’d had sex, let alone anything penetrating.

William leaned down, hands on either side of your body as he snaked his hands up the sides of your thighs, calluses brushing the material of your skirt away before he reached your panties.

“I’m gonna put this inside you, okay Princess? Be a good girl for me…”

You hadn’t realised it was a dual operator.

The rubbery material slid into your folds as he pushed your panties aside with his hands, allowing for the other nub to rest on your clit, leaving the base sticking out of your body. If that wasn’t torture enough, he covered the bottom with your panties, placing them back into position and leaving you with no escape.

The machine began to pulse and vibrate, leaving you as nothing but a squirming mess.

William chuckled at the sight below him, taking a moment to watch you squeal and call out for him as he lazily jerked his cock. This was far better than any porn. Or sex with his wife, for that matter.

You arched your back and clung onto the sheets as it continued to fuck you, the outside handle massaging your clit in circles, sending shockwaves through your body. You’d never been fucked like this, and it was even more sinful knowing it came from a married man.

“Please Sir…” you begged, eyes watery as you stared at him, arms outstretched. “I need —“

“Does the Princess need her King? He’s coming, doll,” he cooed, desire laced in his throaty chuckle. He walked over to you and took your hand, but assumed his position back at your mouth, taking a moment to run his heavy shaft over your wanting lips. You took him in your mouth like a good girl, making sure you teased his balls with your tongue.

He groaned, legs shaking as he ran his fingers to the top of your dress, roughly pulling it down to just below your breasts and began to fondle them with his large hands. He squeezed and tugged on your nipples, bringing you to a point of complete overstimulation as the vibrator continued its motions within you. The room was filled with sounds of wetness from both your mouth and cunt, and judging by the way you were beginning to desperately paw on William’s thighs he could tell you were close.

“Are you gonna cum, doll? You gonna cum all over my wife’s vibrator?”

You whined an ‘uh-huh’ as you nodded your head, and William grinned down at you, pulling himself from your mouth.

“Good,” he hummed. “Open your legs nice and wide for me Princess. I want to watch you,”

You did so and he stood over you, inspecting you as if he were a doctor. You were beginning to see white, and you barely noticed that the man had dropped to his knees, face-to-face with your aching pussy. In a second, he dragged you towards him and buried his face between your legs, underneath all the layers of tulle and petticoat. He swiftly removed the vibrator and replaced it with his tongue and lithe fingers, flicking at your bud and pumping in and out of you, your juices beginning to coat his digits.

It was heaven when you came. You were so overwhelmed that you’d actually locked your legs around him; allowing him to receive all of your fluids across his face and fingers. He lapped you up like he was starving, his hands holding a steady grip on your thighs and waist, making it clear that you belonged to him.

As you rode off your high, you began to feel sleepy. William emerged from under your dress, looking rather proud of himself as he wiped a droplet of your juices from his beard. You mustered the strength to prop yourself up, and as you did he pulled you into a sloppy kiss by your neck, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

You bit your lip as you pulled away, watching the man intently as he dropped his pants and boxers, leaving him completely nude.

“Keep your clothes on for me, doll,” he smiled sinisterly. “You look so pretty in that dress. I promise I won’t ruin it…”

Shifting so that you were amongst the pillows, you instinctively hiked up your skirt, watching as William climbed over you. Even though you were fully clothed, you felt completely naked under his gaze, and the severity of the situation finally sunk in on you.

Here you were, the image of innocence and grace, draped across the marital bed of the parents of the child you were supposed to entertain - on her birthday no less - whilst the husband straddled you, ready to fuck you within an inch of your life.

Sarah, Vanessa and the other children could come home any minute.

“William…” you whispered, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I-I’m scared…”

He grinned. He hoped you were scared of what he was going to do to you, and the idea of being caught by his wife.

“Shh,” he hummed. “I’ve got you,”

He lifted your legs to either side of him so that your lower back was elevated, and your thighs rested on his own as he lined up with your entrance. He took a moment to tease your slit, rubbing his sticky head along your wet folds, still sensitive from your orgasm.

He pushed into you with little warning and your back arched, relishing in the bittersweet feeling of being stretched open. You thought he was going to begin moving, but he continued to push into you, making sure that the ring of juices you’d left on his cock was entirely covered. He wanted you to take him whole.

“Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, voice rumbling from the inside of his chest. “You’re so tight…I haven’t had a pussy like this in ages…”

“Will…” you stammered, shutting your eyes as you felt him bottom out within you, balls resting on your skin. “Oh my God…”

“Such a perfect little Princess,” he said, relishing in the sight of your skin-on-skin. Holding your thighs apart, he pulled back slowly before beginning to fuck into you, the contact making obscene sticky sounds. You had no choice but to grip the bed sheets as he drew long, agonising strokes into you, savouring the moment. Something about it was strangely intimate.

Once William found his rhythm he briefly let go of your thighs to grope your tits through the material before pulling it down and manhandling them himself. They moved with every thrust as your head lolled, mouth open and whining as he fucked you.

William was a man of many feats, but he’d never believed he'd be able to have this. He wanted you to be his naughty little elf for Christmas, his Cupid for Valentines, and his present for his birthday. Just you, bound by ribbon with a bow on your head would be good enough.

“You like this, hm? Ever fucked another dad like me? They must love having you around,” he snarled, and your pussy clenched at the image.

“N-Noo…” you whispered, squealing as William abruptly slapped your cunt..

“No?” he repeated. “Hm, of course not. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? A true Princess…”

You nodded, leaning up as William leant down to meet your lips in another sloppy kiss, giving him the ammunition to drill his cock into you further, your legs now by his shoulders.

God, this was the best fuck you’d ever had.

He steadied himself on either side of you, and you could feel his hot, heavy breaths from his nose and mouth as he continued to fuck you, eye contact unwavering.

As his thrusts became sloppier, you felt your stomach knot up, signalling yet another orgasm.

“William…I’m - I’m close…”

“Again, baby?” he hummed. “And here I was thinking I’d get to fuck your ass…Hm, there’s always a next time…”

You hardly acknowledged the implication.

“Y-You gotta — “

“Pull out?” he teased, withdrawing his hips, legs shaking as his nerves tingled and he entered you for the final time. “Oh no, Princess, I can’t do that! I could stain your pretty dress or ruin your makeup…”

He was so considerate.

You nodded, locking your arms around his neck as the weight of his body forced you into the mattress. You squeezed your eyes shut as you came, toes curling as your walls clamped down on his cock, making him feel bigger than before (if that were even possible). It wasn’t long before he came, grunting and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he filled your pussy with his hot cum. He held you there for what felt like forever, making sure every drop wasn’t wasted, nor spilled onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, words broken between pants as he began to pull out, watching as the creamy fluids glistened in the natural light, even trickling down to his balls. You looked absolutely spent, and if you didn’t have a job to do he would’ve let you lie there.

Managing to pull yourself up, it was mostly silent until you heard a car enter the driveway, causing you to spring into motion.

“William, we’re home!”

“Shit…” you murmured, looking around. How would it look if you both came down the stairs?

“Here, take this,” William said nonchalantly, handing you a pink envelope. “Vanessa’s room is at the end of the hall. I trust you know how to improvise...”

You nodded, brushing your skirt into place as you hastily began to leave. William stopped you, raising a hand as if to ‘halt’, and tenderly fixed your tiara, a sly smirk wiped across his face as he did. As he let go, his hands stroked your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You took the digit into your mouth briefly before planting a gentle kiss onto the tip, smiling back up at him innocently.

Keys were in the door.

“My final wish…” he uttered, “…Is that you come and work for me. We could really use an Easter Bunny…”

@fandomwritingbit @ahsxual

#florence writes!!#my magnum opus #for now #william afton smut #william afton x reader smut #william afton x reader #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #fnaf smut

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dickgraysonsbitch · 10 days

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Hi! Just found your blog and it’s the best thing ever honestly. I was wondering if you could do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader deals with migraines and sensory overloads? If not that’s totally cool, have a nice day!

thank you so much for your ask!! this was actually my first request ever 😭 nonny you will go down in history 💖 a psa that while i do have mild sensory issues, i don’t have migraines, so any and all criticism is welcome!

warnings: pills/migraines | 1.2k words | dividers by @cafekitsune | requests open !

You fell onto the bed, tucking your knees in close to your chest. Fifty minutes. This goddamned headache had been the bane of your whole existence for fifty minutes, and you couldn’t even catch a bloody break. Every week, it would come back like clockwork, and while you had your routine (two advils, an eye mask, and soothing ocean noises all while sitting in a dark room with a singular, mildly-scented lavender candle with two out of three wicks lit) it didn’t change the fact that every minute that you lay there, the throbbing sensation around your head came back worse than before.

Grasping the tip of your nose, you tilted your head back in order to swallow the pills next to you. If you didn’t, you’d eventually gag on the water, and that wasn’t really a pretty sight to see. It was a miracle that you could even work as a hostess, especially on the graveyard shift, because it was taking every ounce of your willpower not to throw up at even the most tamest memories—a sleepy child with food flying out of their mouth, or a costumer shouting about how ‘insane’ you were when you had only gotten through your second advil of the day. It wasn’t enough, clearly, because if it had been, you wouldn’t be holed up in your dark room like a vampire with chronic pain.

One knock on your window jolts you from your ibuprofen-fueled haze. Two knocks. Three knocks—god, who doesn’t have patience in this stupid city? Not everyone can be a metahuman that travels at the speed of sound.

You open your window, head still pulsing, but all thoughts of another cup of mildly sweetened honey tea dissipates when the Red Hood smoothly slides into your living room/kitchen (it’s Gotham! Rent may be low, but you are poor as hell), removes his helmet, and shakes his head like a wet dog, the domino mask he was wearing underneath somehow not falling off. He shoots you a crooked grin before plopping himself on your couch, resting his legs on your coffee table.

“Shoes off,” you grumble. “And for the millionth time, I have a door for a reason. And I put food on that table, and I don’t want to see your nasty feet on it.” While other people might be a bit more reserved when talking to a Bowery drug lord, you had never given yourself the same boundaries. He’d crashed into your apartment when he was injured one night a few months ago, and since then, the Red Hood swore to one, pay off your window, and two, make sure you were safe. In his words, it was the best way to repay you for saving his life—even though you didn’t really do anything of the sort. Basic stitches that you learnt in high school, because that was what they taught when a vigilante could collapse in your house due to blood loss any minute in Gotham.

“Woah…” he raises his hands up in mock surrender, his eyes glinting with mirth. “What’s wrong? Rough shift?”

He can always tell, and you’ve decided to refrain against trying to lie to the only crime lord that you’ll likely ever be friend with, unless the Penguin unexpectedly decides to lumber up your fire escape. (Hood’s gotten you a spiked baseball bat for occasions like that, because you complained about any firearms). A pang of pain from you head. Mental note, put out the candle, no wicks. Darken the room even more, try and fail to go to sleep. You have your second job in the morning tomorrow. Mental note, take a melatonin if you can’t sleep, pack a few pills of ibuprofen and acetaminophen if you can’t get through your morning shift. It’s two AM right now, you could still get three hours of sleep if you—

A rough, calloused hand gently caresses your cheek, sending a tingling sensation down your jawline, all the way down to the base of your spine. Okay, woah. “Take a deep breath, baby.” Hood’s deep, gravelly voice shakes your from your stupor. Oh. You were slipping back into your anxiety induced panic attacks, and you hadn’t even noticed. You take one deep breath, but instead of feeling like you’re stuffing an oversized pillow into a kid sized cover, you’re at ease, letting fresh air flow into your lungs.

“How you doin’ tonight, huh baby? I saw your kitchen light on, thought I’d stop by.” Red Hood rubs a simple circle pattern into your back, letting you lean onto him.

“I bet…” you take a shallow breath. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

A smile cracks through onto his face. “Nah, baby, just you. All the girls have nothing on you, baby. You want to tell me about your day?”

Maybe it was just his voice, but you were almost immediately more at ease than you wee moments ago. Red Hood would’ve had a great calling as a therapist, or even a guidance counselor, but you weren’t sure that he’d like it if you called him, arguably the most fearsome man in Gotham, a service worker. Men were weird that way.

“C-can you talk to me, Hood? I don’t know… you have a nice voice, I guess. Makes me feel safe.”

You could swear that you heard his voice crack before he cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that. So… I guess I didn’t do much today. Oh! This one sleaze-bag was trying to rob this eighth grader, and I’d never seen this old guy, okay? The kid, his name’s James, he immediately just swings his backpack at him. And I come in, this dude’s already gotten a broken nose…”

He keeps talking about the unexpected things that happened during his day, but your eyes are just trained on Hood. His sharp jaw, his toned arms, his hair and the decent-sized white streak that runs through it, his soft lips and the J scar that covered his left cheekbone, and you wondered what it would be like to know him without the mask on. Would he still be the same, sweet guy that you knew?

In a sudden moment of courage, you take Hood’s hand and squeeze it, your heart pounding nervously against your ribcage. “Thank you, Hood.” You whisper. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I would be done if you weren’t here. I’d probably be still having a killer headache right now.”

He smiles, something that you’ve been seeing him do a lot more often than he’s known for. Red Hood, vigilante, drug lord, crime boss? Nowhere to be seen. You try your hardest to gaze past the white lenses over his eyes, concealing his eye color.

“Jay,” he mutters softly, soft enough that if you hadn’t been sitting so close, you wouldn’t have been able to hear a word that he said. “Call me Jay.”

The head comes come back sometimes, but you usually tend to ignore the headaches after a dose of acetaminophen and a head massage from who might be the world’s best vigilante, Jay. You may not know his full name yet, but you know his heart, and under all that armor, under the Red Hood, is a man with a heart of gold.

please please please let me know if i got anything wrong so i can edit it!

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #dc robin #jason todd x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfiction #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood imagines #cinna’s asks #dickgraysonsbitch

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marvelfilth · 1 year

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Just to be clear

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x f!reader

Warnings: oblivious™ reader

Summary: you get the girl... eventually

Masterlist

You've never felt like you belonged in this industry. The people you've worked with were kind, compassionate and totally devoted to their craft, so creatively gifted it almost made you feel bleak in comparison, so you never felt like you could share your ideas with your fellow actors, you didn't feel brave enough to come up to a director and offer him your thoughts on the scene you were about to play out. You never thought you'd fit in enough to feel comfortable in the studio, cornered between blue screens and people dressed in superhero costumes, not when you got your first Golden Globe and not even when you got your first Oscar.

You still couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that you were nominated in the first place, let alone won, but the awards under your belt gave you enough credibility to pick and choose between roles offered to you, and you used it to your advantage, disregarding scripts sent to you to check the cast instead, only picking films with people you actually wanted to meet.

Your manager always tried his best to keep his hands to himself when you did that, barely holding back from slapping the back of your head every time you threw away an Oscar worthy script, huffing and rolling his eyes as he typed away on his phone.

That's why, when a script to Scream 7 landed in your mail, you snagged it away before he could burn it. After all, you've been a fan of the franchise for a long time now, you couldn't let an opportunity like that pass.

He groaned and banged the back of his head against the wall repeatedly when he saw the script in your hands, muttering something under his breath. You just smiled and made him schedule a meeting with the director.

You didn't regret your decision.

The first time you met the cast you felt a bit timid, seeing how familiar they were with each other, laughing and exchanging jabs around the table, before falling silent when they finally noticed you lingering at the door.

"Oh my god it's true!" Jasmine screeched, jumping up from her seat. Her eyes shone so brightly, you couldn't help but smile. "When Jenna told me you were casted I laughed in her face. I can't believe it!" She came to a stop in front of you, holding you by the elbow as she led you to the table. "What are you doing here with us peasants?"

You chuckled, feeling at ease and she blabbered on, gesturing wildly as she introduced you to the people in the room. Relief flooded through you with each smile sent your way, and soon enough you were seated at the round table, actively engaging in banter and laughter, your eyes crinkling in the corners and your grin so wide it made your cheeks hurt.

Working with them was as easy as breathing.

While Jasmine and Mason never failed to make you feel welcomed with their harmless jokes and good-natured teasing, Melissa took the role of an older sister, always making sure you felt comfortable around other actors and filming crew, showing you around the set and taking you to her favorite cafés. It made you feel warm all over and each night you returned to your rented apartment with a content smile.

Jenna, on the other hand, was an enigma. While everyone else took a direct approach from the first day, not shying away from questions about your previous projects, gossiping about people you've worked with and dragging you around the city whenever you had free time, she seemed to almost tiptoe around you, greeting you with a simple smile and tilt of her head and never uttering more than five words in your presence.

At first, you thought you did something wrong, your eyebrows furrowing each time she brushed past you, headphones around her neck and a small smile in place as she greeted you with a simple wave of her fingers. You always made sure to send her a small wave in return, your expression growing even more confused every time she ducked her head, her falling hair hiding a flustered expression she tried so hard to keep from showing on her face.

When you asked Melissa about it almost a month into filming she just laughed and shook her head, muttering something about clueless teenagers. It left you even more confused.

The next day after that conversation Jenna approached you during lunch, sitting beside you on a bench and offering a single earbud with that small smile in place. You beamed and took the offered item, spending the next forty minutes happily munching on your fries and listening to her playlist, occasionally stealing looks at the beautiful girl beside you.

A fry fell from your grasp each time your eyes met.

If you thought you spent a lot of time with Melissa and Jasmine, you were wrong, because now, three months into filming, you felt like you and Jenna were joined at the hip.

She grew bolder after your every interaction, monopolizing your lunch time at first, then moving on to picking you up in the morning and driving you back after a long day on set, and recently she chose to drive you both to her place instead, claiming she needed someone to watch the newest movie with, which usually ended up in you staying in her guest room after hours of heated discussions.

The mornings after those nights were your absolute favorite.

You'd wake up from your alarm to find her humming in the kitchen, cooking the two of you breakfast. She never made anything requiring much effort, sticking to scrambled eggs and toast, but sometimes you'd wake up a little earlier to surprise her with a new recipe, setting the table for two and waiting for the grumpy brunette. The smile she sent you at the sight never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

It was perfect, really, save for one thing.

Somewhere along the lines you started to fall in love.

You didn't know how it happened, you didn't expect it and you certainly didn't plan on it, but at the same time you weren't surprised.

Jenna could charm the pants off anyone without even trying, and the way almost every conversation you had with her almost always turned flirtatious made your heart swell in your chest.

"I love this shirt on you," she said one night after the movie ended, reaching forward to straighten the collar of your shirt, "you should wear it more often."

Somehow the shirt ended up in her closet, and when one day she wore it on set you almost face planted right on the ground, catching yourself at the last moment.

"I thought you wanted me to wear it more often?" You asked her at the end of the day, your cheeks reddening slightly at the way she smiled and hugged the fabric closer to her body.

"I think it looks even better on me."

You laughed it off and let her roam your closet that same night when she dropped you off, feeling warm all over at the sight of her being so comfortable in your space.

Melissa was the first one to notice the change in Jenna's wardrobe, but she didn't say anything, instead simply sending you a knowing smile and a thumbs up.

Jasmine, however, didn't notice until a few weeks later when the five of you were having a movie night at Mason's place, all tucked in the spacious couch spreading along the length of the room.

Jenna just came back from the kitchen with freshly made popcorn for the two of you when the movie was suddenly paused, making everyone in the room groan.

"Come on!" Mason threw his hands in the air, falling back against the cushions.

"What the hell is that?" She pointed a finger at the hoodie Jenna wore that night, your hoodie. Her eyes narrowed to slits, darting between the two of you and you could almost see the gears turn in her head. "Are you two fu-"

"Jasmine!" Melissa cut her off, taking the remote form the taller girl and unpausing the movie, shushing any attempts at asking questions.

You chose to ignore what was almost said, turning to focus on the movies when you felt your neck prickle. Knowing what it meant you kept your gaze pinned to the TV, ignoring a certain pair of brown eyes boring at the side of your head.

A hand sneaked up your thighs to rest at the edge of your shorts. "Are you okay?" She whispered, her voice quiet enough so only you could hear.

You nodded, not daring to look back at her, and placed your palm on top of her hand, lacing your fingers. She exhaled and slumped against your side, nestling her head on your shoulder.

Neither of you moved until the movie ended.

×××

All of it would've been perfect if you were the only one on the receiving end of her undivided attention.

Mason, who broke up with his girlfriend before filming started, seemed to always keep an eye on her, sending her secret smiles and whispering with her in corners of the set. She gladly followed him whenever he called her over, sharing quiet laughs and short hugs. You always looked away whenever you caught them, your knuckles turning white from the grip you had on your chair.

You kept telling yourself you didn't have a right to feel jealous, but deep down you knew it was a losing battle.

Maybe when she offered you an earbud she took your heart in exchange, gently cradling it in her soft palms only to squeeze it hard each time she walked away with Mason's arm slung around her shoulders.

You certainly felt like it when you noticed her drunkenly dancing with him after a game night you had at Melissa's place, all giggly smiles and sloppy steps.

You barely managed to take your eyes off the scene, focusing back on the cards you had, but no matter how hard you tried you couldn't concentrate, your mind still keen on what you knew was happening mere feet away.

Sighing, you sent an apologetic smile to the other two women and stood up to fix yourself another non-alcoholic drink in the kitchen, walking past the dancing pair and failing to notice the way Jenna reached out to grab you, almost falling at your feet before Mason managed to keep her upright.

You leaned against the counter, no longer interested in the drink and this night in general. Maybe it was time to go home.

A second later a pair of slender arms slid around your waist from behind. "Take me home?" Jenna asked, her words slurred against your back as she struggled to keep her balance. You turned around out to wrap an arm around her waist, keeping her pressed firmly against you.

You think you felt her hum against your neck before she pried away to look up at you, keeping hold of your shoulders.

You looked up from her glossy eyes to look back at Mason who was now throwing himself at the poor Melissa, almost crushing her in a hug.

Fingers wrapped around the back of your neck before your face was tugged back down, your breath hitching in your throat when your nose gently bumped into hers. "Why are you looking at him?" She pouted, her other hand coming up to cup your jaw, keeping your face firmly against her own. "Want you to look at me," she mumbled, failing to stay upright as she fell against your chest. It didn't stop her from muttering something you couldn't figure out as her hands circled your waist once again.

You closed your eyes, your grip on her waist hardening as you fought the urge to scoop her in your arms and kiss the pout away. You almost gave in to the urge when you felt her hands sneaking past the hem of your shirt to rest on the bare skin of your back, taking a deep breath you pulled her along to tell everyone you were leaving.

She fell asleep in the passenger seat of your car, your right hand tightly clasped between hers as she dozed off, quiet snores reaching your ears. You couldn't bring yourself to wake her up, instead carrying her to her apartment, barely managing to keep both of you upright as you unlocked the door with your key.

When you finally reached her bedroom she started to stir, turning her head from the spot on your shoulder to take in her surroundings. She let out a content breath at the sight of her bed, falling back against your shoulder, the grip she had on your neck was almost iron clad and you couldn't pry away no matter how hard you tried.

"Jenna," you stirred her gently, "Jen, let me go."

She hummed and pulled you against her, the two of you falling against the soft cushions.

It was the first time you slept in the same bed.

×××

"Wanna tell me about it?" Jasmine called the next morning, surprisingly chipper considering the amount of drinks she had yesterday.

"There's nothing to tell." You bit the inside of your cheek, sending a look to the girl slumped behind the counter.

She woke up with a nasty headache, groaning as she tried to shield her eyes from the sun with the back of her hand. You made fun of her only once, when you handed her water and Advil and immediately scurried away to make coffee when she threw a pillow in your face.

"Sure seemed like something," her tone was smug and you could already hear the start of her interrogation, but a groan from Jenna made her stumble over her words. It was way too quiet for a moment, before she finally screeched, "I knew it!"

Enduring her teasing turned out to be much easier than you thought, especially with Melissa's constant warning looks and Jenna's death glares sent her way whenever she as much as smirked at you. Eventually she relented, stomping her feet and grumbling about how unfun you were.

That left only Mason to torment your thoughts. He didn't do anything wrong. Hell, if anything, you were the one in the wrong with your unwarranted jealousy. But every time he stole Jenna from you during lunch, every time he jokingly jumped on her back between takes, both of them tumbling to the floor in heaps of laughter, made your chest constrict with that ugly feeling, leaving you to wallow in your misery as you tried your best to not pay attention to the pair.

You felt like shit every time he happily brought you sweets from the local bakery, pulling you tightly against his chest and ruffling your hair. He started doing that a long time ago, claiming it was his way to make you feel at home. It worked before, when you were blissfully unaware of your feelings towards a certain brunette, but now it left you feeling empty.

He was a great guy, anyone would be lucky to date him and the fact only spurred your jealousy even more.

You blinked when he waved at you, a confused expression on his face and you realized you were staring at him all this time.

"You spend a lot of time looking at him." A quiet voice came behind your shoulder.

You turned around to face Jenna, her stare so intense it almost made you look away. Almost.

"You spend a lot of time with him." You countered, crossing your arms.

Her brows knitted, frustration crinkling in her eyes. "That's what friends do."

You huffed, and finally looked away, the weight of her stare becoming too much for you to handle. "Right."

There was a blissful moment of silence before a chair scraped loudly against the floor.

"I'm going to kill you both," Melissa hissed, rising from her seat and throwing her script on the chair she occupied a second ago. "I'm this close," she pinched her thumb and forefinger until they were almost pressed, "to locking you two in some supply closet so you could finally figure this out. So please, please go away and talk like adults."

"We are talking…" you hesitantly spoke up, taking a step closer to Jenna.

The seething look the older woman sent your way almost made you stumble.

"We'll talk," Jenna cut in, taking you by the elbow and leading down the hall to a supply closet. The situation seemed so absurd you couldn't help but chuckle, Jenna's glare shutting you up not even a second later.

"Do you have feelings for him?" The words left her lips as soon as the door closed behind you.

You stopped dead in your tracks, staring at her, your mouth hanging open. The idea seemed so ridiculous you couldn't even form a sentence to deny it. She closed her eyes, crossing her arms against her chest. "So you do," she whispered, defeated.

And then it hit you.

She was jealous.

You thought back on the night she was drunk, the way she held you, not allowing you to look at him, demanding you to look at her instead, and today, when she caught you staring at him, she confronted you about it. You almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

The girl you fell in love with thought you were trying to steal her potential boyfriend.

You took a deep breath, blinking away the tears, your voice wavered, "I don't care about him like that." Her head shot up, her eyes focusing on your face swirled with emotion you couldn't decipher. You continued, holding her gaze, "You should go for it, though. He'd be lucky to have you."

No matter how much it hurt you to say this, you had to. He made her happy and she deserved to know she had nothing to worry about.

But as soon as the words left your lips you immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"What? You think I have feelings for him?" She gaped, staring at you incredulously.

You didn't know why, but you felt really stupid at that moment. "...yes?"

She breathed in, and took measured steps towards you, leaving a few inches between you before reaching up to pull your face down, pinning you with her eyes. "And what? You want me to chase after him? Want to give me advice on how to get the man?" Her words were laced with something dangerous, and you felt like this moment was about to change your whole life.

You swallowed. "I- if that's what you want," you whispered.

She stared at you in silence for what felt like ages, before scoffing and turning around on her heel, stomping away and leaving you to your thoughts in the dimly lit space.

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

"What the fuck did you do?" Melissa cornered you right after the filming wrapped for the day, tugging you by the elbow to her trailer, and pushing you on the uncomfortable couch.

"I think I screwed up."

"Yeah, no shit. Tell me everything."

And you did. You told her about the first time you caught yourself staring at Jenna, about the first night you spent at her apartment and the morning after that, full of soft smiles and gentle touches. You told her about the way you felt whenever you saw her wearing your clothes, how it made you giddy and full of hope. You told her about the first time you felt jealousy coursing through your veins, all those weeks ago when Mason snatched Jenna away for the first time. You told her how elated you felt when she fell asleep snuggled against you, snoring away in the crook of your neck. You wiped a stray tear and told her about what you said just hours ago.

"You're both idiots," she groaned, but pulled you into her arms, holding you tight while you tried to blink away the tears.

×××

It didn't get easier after that, if anything it all became even worse. Jenna avoided you like a plague, disappearing from sight when your eyes met, and hiding behind Mason whenever you tried to approach. You tried your best to not let the hurt show on your face, after all, you were the one to push them together, but judging by the worried look on his face, you did a very poor job.

Jasmine took it upon herself to lift your spirits, taking the empty spot by your side during lunch and carpooling with you after long days of shooting. You could see questions swimming in her eyes, could see the way her eyes darted to you whenever Jenna entered the room.

You couldn't answer her questions when you yourself didn't know the answer.

Jenna was supposed to be happy by now, but the dark circles under her eyes and slight tremble of her hands told you a different story.

You tried asking Melissa, but she just shook her head and rolled her eyes whenever you bugged her about it.

"Figure it out yourself," she said after two weeks of you begging her for answers.

You tried hard, you really did. Doesn't mean you were successful.

When the director mentioned a wrap party taking place next month, dread filled your stomach. With your mind constantly preoccupied with Jenna you didn't even notice how much time has passed.

It was time to do something.

"Are you stalking her now?" Mason asked you as he rounded his car after a long day of filming.

You blinked from your spot on the hood of Jenna's car. "Maybe."

He snorted, opening the door. "Just tell her already."

You tensed, knitting your brows. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh my god," he grumbled, throwing his head back to look at the night sky. He straightened then, and briskly walked up to you, taking hold of your shoulders. "She's in love with you." He punctuated each word with a shake to your shoulders.

He waited for you to process his words before he took a step back, watching the gears turn in your head.

You gulped, hopping off the hood, shaking your head in denial before thinking back on the conversation you had with Jenna a few weeks ago in that small supply room. The way she looked so small and defeated when she thought you had feelings for Mason, the way she stared at you when you told her she was wrong, waiting for you to say something before you screwed it all up.

Want you to look at me, she said all that time ago.

Oh God.

"She's in love with me," you whispered.

Mason almost jumped in relief, closing the distance between you in two short strides, and pulled you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before he suddenly tensed, pushing you away. "I'll leave you to deal with that." He muttered before scurrying to his car and driving off in record time.

You looked behind your shoulder just in time to see Jenna approach you with pursed lips.

"What was that?" She asked, avoiding your eyes.

You turned around to face her, your lips stretching in a grin so wide it made you look like an idiot, or a love struck fool. You bounced on your heels, barely managing to stop yourself from lunging at the smaller woman, your eyes roaming around her form, drinking her in after so many days spent staring at her from across the room.

She finally looked up when silence stretched for a long awkward moment, her brows disappearing behind her bangs at your excited smile. A corner of her mouth went up almost unconsciously, your happiness so contagious she found herself relaxing.

And then she frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Under her scrutinizing gaze you felt like the air was sucked from your chest, but you braved on, taking the chance to make things right.

"Well, my original plan was to jump in the car with you, hoping you wouldn't throw me out." You began your rant, training your eyes on the small logo of her t-shirt. Your t-shirt, you realised after a second, the sight giving you enough confidence to look her in the eye. "I prepared this really long speech about my stupidity and jealousy clouding my thoughts and influencing my actions, and it ended in professing my feelings for you. My romantic feelings, just to be clear. Also there was a bit about fighting Mason for your affections, but it was recently pointed out to me that it's probably no longer necessary..." you trailed off, suddenly hesitant.

What if the weeks you spent gaining courage made her feelings change?

You took a deep breath and looked up just in time to see her throw herself at you, pulling you in a bruising kiss. You squeaked in surprise, eyes growing comically wide as she settled in your arms, her hands circling your neck to pull you impossibly closer.

Her lips felt like heaven, so soft and responsive and gentle, gliding against your own, her tongue swiping against your bottom lip, and then you were pushed against the hood of her car, her hands trailing down your body to hide beneath the fabric of your shirt, gripping at the burning skin of your waist hard enough to leave marks.

You pulled away for a breath, her body tensing before she saw the adoring look in your eyes and your blinding smile. "Do you want to hear the speech? I have it memorized." You asked, nuzzling your nose against her cheek.

"I want you to be quiet," she muttered, her fingers threading through your hair to pull you closer. "And you're on probation, by the way," she said, before pulling you in for another passionate kiss, pulling little whines and moans out of you as she dipped her other hand in the back pocket of your jeans, squeezing you possessively.

"Just to be clear," you mumbled between kisses, "I'm in love with you."

Her breath caught in her throat as she pulled away, looking up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You pulled her against your chest, burrowing your face in her soft hair.

Later that night, when the two of you lay in her bed, trying to catch your breath, she burrowed into your side, mumbling something against you, her soft breath sending shivers down your spine.

"What was that?" You tugged her chin up.

Her eyes opened, alight with mischief. "I said I was the one to mail you the script."

"What? Why?"

She groaned, ducking her head. "They thought you'd never agree to a movie like that, completely disregarded my suggestion to ask you, but I had to try, so I stole the script and mailed it to you."

You bit your lip to keep yourself from grinning at her confession. "And why was it so important for me to be in this movie?"

"I wanted to meet you," she murmured, placing kisses over your collarbone, "because I've been enamored with you ever since Jasmine made me watch that stupid Marvel movie all those years ago."

You let out a surprised oh, your heart hammering against the ribcage and your mouth hanging open as you tried to process the information.

"Just to be clear..." Her hands came up to cradle your head, her thumbs trailing circles on the sensitive skin behind your ears, her eyes shining so brightly it felt like they lit the whole room. "... I'm in love with you, too."

×××

When you walked on set the next morning, your arm slung around her shoulders and her hand around your waist, almost everyone in the room let out a collective ear piercing squeal.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #scream #wednesday #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #just to be clear

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w2soneshots · 2 months

Text

Toddler -W2S

Words: 0.7k+

Warnings: none.

In which you and Harry enjoy a holiday in Dubai with your toddler.

a/n: Currently got major baby fever so here's some dad bog content🤭. Enjoy!💓

Liked by wroetoshaw and 1,017,349 others

y/username: living the dream☀️🌊 @wroetoshaw

-comments-

gkbarry_: you look incredible get in my bed

-> y/username: 🛏️🏃‍♀️

faithloisak: enjoy my lovelys🫶🏼

taliamar: cutest family ever!🥹💗

y/nfanpage21: I love this sm

user2104853: the third photo is adorable🩵

Over a year and a half ago me and Harry welcomed our little boy into the world. So far it's been incredible and I've enjoyed every minute of being his mum, even through the tough parts his little smile would make the hardships completely disappear in an instant. Harry is also an amazing dad, it's like he was born for the role. A few months ago Harry surprised me with a week long trip to Dubai, and what is our first holiday as a family of three. I was extremely excited and almost immediately called Faith to get advice on what I should pack for Ollie, which is what we ended up naming him.

We arrived two days ago and are already having the best time. Yesterday we spent all day at the beach then went for a nice dinner, in which Ollie slept in his buggy the entire time. Today we're going to the Dubai aquarium, getting some lunch and going shopping. I woke up to the sound of giggling, I pried myself from Harry's grasp and reached forward to grab the smiling baby from his travel cot. I placed him between me and Harry in the bed then drifted back off to sleep. I woke up an hour later, reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone to see a message from Harry saying he'd gone out to grab some breakfast from downstairs. I got up and took a picture of Ollie surrounded by the white fluffy bed sheets.

y/username just posted a new story!

I quickly got dressed while Ollie slept and Harry soon came back with breakfast. When we were all ready we left the hotel to head to the aquarium. We rented a car the first day we arrived, since Ollie has to sit in a car seat plus we'll be spending much less on Ubers. I drove (since Harry despises driving) and we were soon parked outside.

Harry pulled the exited toddler from his seat, and we headed inside. Ollie seemed to be absolutely mesmerised by the sea creatures (especially the 'big scary sharks'). When we'd walked around the entire aquarium we left to go get some lunch since we were all hungry and Ollie was getting quite restless and in desperate need of a nap. We went back to the car to grab the buggy from the boot then walked to one of the nearby restaurants.

We sat down to eat our lunch as Ollie soundly slept. As me and Harry finished up our food Ollie woke up, now full of energy and hungry. We'd ordered him some plain chips so he ate them along with some fresh fruit. Which they seem to have lots of here, probably because of the hot weather.

Then we paid and made our way to Dubai mall, which thankfully has air conditioning. I happily looked through some shops while Harry followed me with the buggy. "Almost done?" Harry asked, very clearly bored. I turned around and shook my head jokingly "almost." I said with a smile. "M- mummy?" Ollie babbled. "Yes baby?" I replied squatting down in front of him. "I wanna go- the pool." He smiled. Harry chuckled and I glanced up at him "ok, let's go." I said and a look of pure excitement spread across his face.

Liked by wroetoshaw and 719,238 others

y/username: my toddlers new fixation: sharks😂🤍

-comments-

tobjizzle: looks like so much fun! Hope you're having a great time guys❤️

-> y/username: we are ty uncle jizzle💞

faithloisak: so stinking cute🥺

y/nfanpage21: the mum fits are👌🏼

user50172932: those burgers omfg

When we arrived back at the hotel we got straight into our swimming costumes and headed down to the pool. We found some deck chairs and put our things down, then (after smothering Ollie in suncream) all three of us got into the pool.

y/username just posted a new story!

Later... "I'm so lucky." Harry whispered, as we lay in bed and Ollie lightly snored in his cot. I smiled "you're so cute." He pulled me into a sweet kiss "I mean it, I'm so lucky to have you and Ol, I love you both so much." "And we’re so lucky to have you Haz."

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 days

Note

AITA for saying I'm not rich?

Wait stop hear me out

So the thing is, my father is wealthy. Or at least he made enough money to have two Ferraris and a boat, which to me are the most useless things because why would u spend that money on this when u could spend it on food or commodities but details

When I was young, any time I asked for money or something, he'd make a huge deal about it. He'd make me feel awful, so awful that I just stopped asking for anything at all, starting from my teenage years to my college years, and I survived entire months, living alone during college, with 50 dollars to get by. For groceries and bills. And yes, he was nice enough to pay for my rent (170 dollars back then) but every time I'd be the worst piece of garbage for asking him. Worst thing was, I wanted a job, but he had this delusion that any sort of job that would take me, basically customer service, i wanted was "underneath my daughter" so he legit didn't let me and he'd go to big, big hoops to not allow me to do so

I'd never buy clothes or other necessities: I spent my teenage years just putting together what I got from relatives to make some savings, and I'd survive on that. He'd go splendid on my birthday and christmas, I guess, he'd buy me things, but I came to dread those days because the thought of him spending money -and how he reacted to it- always sent me into a blind panic so yes even though I got nice gifts I was never happy about it and I really really don't like my birthday

So I was always the girl who had two Ferraris to my friends, and they'd always get mad at me when I honestly told them "actually Im not rich" or "I'm sorry I'd rather go to the cheaper place" - because I legit thought i wasn't - and called me an asshole. But This was my father's money and I lived with him, but I rarely saw an actual dollar, everything I bought was with my savings and I spent years and years accumulating it, hoarding it. So I lived in this fancy house, but I'd wear 3 dollar pants and worn shoes because that's what I could afford with my money.

Note that even paying my school fees was a nightmare to me, because my father openly said I was a parasite and screamed at me but whATEVER

So um, my friends always said i was an ass for saying I didn't have any money, when my father was swimming in it. But when u survive on the allowance ur aunt gave u for an entire month, u really don't feel like it? and I always always felt so bad about it, because it felt like they were right and I was an asshole for pretending I don't have money. Except I didn't. I really didn't. That was all his, not mine, and while he did pay school and college flat rent, he was always making sure I knew what a burden I was for it. So yes, I'd still say I was actually not rich - even though I was lucky enough to have someone pay for me.

Anyway yeah AITA for saying I'm not rich? Tbh I really don't know if I can consider myself that, when it's not mine and I've never actually used it, it doesn't feel like it, but some tell me that's my privilege and I guess that could be right

Note: I am a grown adult now, I live on my own, pay my own things and have my job. And he's happy that he doesn't have to pay for me anymore, is baffled by my relationship with money (I don't like spending it ahah), not so much about me not living with him though. (The weird thing is he wants me with him, but not to take care of me which, honestly, valid) I do have a better relationship with him, but we never talk money because I live on minimum wage - ironically enough in costumer service - and he doesn't, so to me spending 60 on groceries is a lot (150 bills destroy me honestly, so winter is a joy) and he always, always mocks me for it. It's weird how he goes around with a Rolex and snuffs me for wearing Primark pants and then people constantly just... Think I have money at all and get mad at me when I say I don't

Anyway yeah AITA for saying I'm not rich? Tbh I really don't know if I can consider myself that if it's not mine, if I've never actually used it, it doesn't feel like it, but some tell me that's my privilege and I guess that could be right

#aita #am i the asshole

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abibliophobiaa · 10 months

Text

Chapter Two: Miscommunication

summary: times goes on, and so do you. but what happens when you bump into the one person you thought you would never see again? (6k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

warnings: sickness (r morning sickness); mention of drugs; mention of child abuse.

mini series masterlist

previous chapter || next chapter

——

Life didn’t magically stop merely because Eddie had ended up being completely different than who you thought he was. Still, nothing quite eased the ache of knowing you’d foolishly trusted another person who’d only gone and let you down. And even so, you quarreled daily with the fact Eddie didn’t really owe you or this baby anything. He’d done as you’d asked; he’d provided an outlet that afternoon, had loved you in the dark — for a little while. You often fought the urge to blame yourself for believing the front he’d put on. The whole ‘I don’t do this often.’

Because apparently he had, based on the fact he’d needed you to remind him more than once who you were. It wasn’t like it was often one found a woman dressed in a Princess Buttercup costume, and then proceeded to go back to a hotel with said woman.

You could do this on your own. Had convinced yourself of as much when you’d started looking for places to move. The only thing was…the city proved to be expensive. It had been one thing having joint salaries when you’d lived with Paul to help cover the cost of rent. Now you had another eventual mouth to feed, a baby to clothe in a few months time, and other expenses to think about like diapers and car seats and furniture.

Two weeks after you’d told Eddie about the baby and he’d essentially shot you down, you’d gotten a phone call from Robin Buckley. You had spent years together in acting classes at your college in the city a few years ago. Became fast friends back in the day and still kept up with one another. It just so happened, when you’d caught her up on life, that she had a basement apartment at her friend Steve’s place that he and his wife, Chrissy, rented out to her. Side entrance, privacy, and apparently a pull out couch in the living area that you could crash on until you found an apartment of your own.

You hated the idea of putting her out like that, but she insisted. And soon enough you shared teary goodbyes in Micah’s living room, her arms around your form, as Jeremiah clapped you on the back. They both wished you well and promised to call, and you hopped in the car and watched as the city faded into nothingness behind you.

Cityscapes and towering buildings turned into endless trees and charming Mom and Pop shops. Busy intersections became citizens walking their dogs and running on side streets. It even smelled different, the air cleaner and crisper somehow, not bogged down by car fumes and smoke.

The Harrington home was beautiful. Large, imposing walls. Gorgeous interior filled to the brim with countless photos of Chrissy and Steve throughout the years. Married for the past two of them, and sickly in love judging by the way they answered the door together, Steve’s arm around his wife, with Chrissy bouncing a baby girl with sandy blonde hair on her hip as you’d entered.

The immediate thought of Eddie’s dark hair knocked the wind out of you — the realization your own child might have his hair. Dark ringlets, and chocolate brown eyes. You hated that you even cared. It had been one night, and even if it had changed nearly everything for you, it meant nothing to him. He’d made that part very clear.

That first evening spent in Hawkins was done so around their dinner table. Steve had put together some pasta and meatballs, and you all chatted about your lives. You, and your old job, of which Steve snapped his fingers together immediately and suggested you come work at the high school where they’d needed some help in the library.

Robin seemed so hopeful for you, eyes shining as he told you, “See — it’s all gonna work out, babe. I told you.”

The apartment itself wasn’t large or anything. An open space for the most part, with a connected living room and kitchen. Robin had the closed off bedroom, and there was a makeshift bathroom with a small shower stall inside, and not nearly spacious enough. But it would do for now, and was way more than you could have ever hoped for or expected.

Your first purchases had been some clear tote boxes to keep stored away under your pullout bed. One for your clothes, one for the clothes you thrifted for the baby, and one for the miscellaneous items here and there like toiletries, diapers, your shampoos and conditioners and make up. It wasn’t much, and you’d likely run out of room soon, but it worked for now.

Those first two weeks passed in a blur. As promised, Steve was able to get you in for an interview at the high school library. It paid well enough, came with health insurance, and time off for maternity leave — though you didn’t know how they knew you’d need it, but you’d like to thank them if you ever found out. As you exited, you happened upon Steve and Chrissy’s awaiting stares, her excited giggling bursting to life when you’d said you were hired and would start that following Monday.

Later, as you all shared yet another celebratory dinner — this time for your new job position — and your baby decided it definitely didn’t like meatloaf, you stumbled into Chrissy on your way out of the bathroom, the back of your hand pressed to your mouth. Her eyes were soft as she led you back over to sit on the edge of the shower and fumbled around in her cabinet for something wrapped in a tiny package.

“Apparently ginger helps with the nausea,” she explained as your eyes widened at the wrapped candy settled in your palm. Confusion lined your furrowed brows and she continued, “For the morning sickness.”

“Oh — I-I’m…”

“It’s okay, you know. I kind of figured it out right away. Steve says I have a sense for these things.” She settled down on the toilet beside you, her knee knocking against the outside of your jean-clad thigh. “Is the father not…”

“No.” It came out as a shaky exhale, heart thumping loudly in your ears. “He’s not around, no. It’s just us.”

“Then you’ll stay,” she urged, reaching across your lap to clasp her hand around yours. “For as long as you need, okay?”

Life settled into a new normalcy. You went to work every morning, waved to your new coworkers as you passed, and began learning the names of the dozens of kids that would filter in and out of the library. And during your lunch breaks, you’d often walk around the track with Steve, talking to him about your day, his day, the weather. Trivial things, but it brought you comfort. A sense of familiarity in the unfamiliar you found yourself in.

The holidays, though different this year, were spent with people who wanted the best for you. Chrissy and Steve had been kind enough to buy you a basket of things for the baby, and Robin had as well, trying to lighten the burden however they could.

It was right around that time you’d learned Steve not only had Melody as a daughter, but a gaggle of twenty-something’s that Robin joked he’d been something of a mother hen to. They welcomed you into the fold without question, excited to have a new friend in their close-knit group.

It was also during those initial weeks you’d spent hours talking to Micah and Jere about how you really thought this was the best decision for your life right now. That you needed this change. And they promised to come visit often when you had your own place, especially since Micah insisted she planned on ‘spoiling the hell out of her niece or nephew.’

Soon enough, unfamiliar streets became solidified in your memory. You learned the best coffee shops and the shortest routes to get places you needed to go. You realized the next door neighbor, Tabitha, always walked her dogs at two in the afternoon and waved as she passed every time. That Pete down the street had the freshest veggie garden every spring and summer, and he promised he’d give you his extras when the seasons got warmer. You even enjoyed your coworkers. Appreciated their presence and help as you acquainted yourself with the school setting, and looked out for you like you'd been there for years.

Hawkins became a home. You didn’t know how or when, but it had. And it was then you finally allowed yourself to pause in front of your bathroom mirror one evening. To stop and stare at the reflection there, turning to the side, curiously tracing the space presently unchanged. Tried to imagine your empty arms being full in a few months, tried to imagine their little face. Tiny hands and little toes, the only person who knew what your heart sounded like from the inside.

They’d be yours and they’d be happy, growing up in a place where they’d only know love, and that’s all you ever wanted.

——

As the weeks progressed and 1994 bled into 1995, you progressed. Eyes drifted in supermarkets, trailed over the girl with no husband in tow. A bunch of close-minded town folk. Mother’s seemed to eye you wearily as you walked, children tugged closer to their side. Whispered when your back was turned to friends, asking quietly if you were simply gaining weight only in your middle of if you had some sort of scandalous secret, reaching up to grab canned soup or Robin’s favorite snacks.

It happened to be the only thing you didn’t like about Hawkins. The fact your business quickly became everyone else’s business. It was bad enough that you worked with teenagers these days. Many of whom preferred coming into the library lately to merely talk to someone they saw as closer in age, and therefore their personal information dump. You gave little more than properly timed nods and gentle reassurances, before you wished them on their way back to whatever classes they seemed intent on skipping.

Luckily, as the holidays came and went, you had the fortune of your increasingly close knitted friend group that consisted of Steve, Chrissy, and Robin — as well as the youngest Harrington, Melody.

Melody with her bright laughter and wispy curls, who reminded you constantly of who you were doing this all for. Uprooting your life, making changes, doing what you wanted to for once. That same little presence that had made itself more prominently known those weeks, current jeans swapped for ones you thrifted at the local store that accommodated the small bump that had decided would no longer be confined to your old clothes. That same little presence your thumb brushed over as you stood in the cereal aisle with Robin and held aloft a box, asking if you needed anymore back at the apartment.

“I mean, we already have two boxes, babe,” she said, shrugging, “but if you’re craving it, buy it. I don’t wanna mess with those angry hormones or whatever you got going on right now.”

“I don’t get angry.” The petulant pout on your lips spoke otherwise.

“You cried when I drank the last of the coffee the other morning —”

“That’s different,” you grumbled, tossing the box into the shopping cart. “I think we got everything. Is there anything else that you can th —”

“Robin Buckley in the flesh. Get your ass over here right now, I missed you so fucking much.”

You stiffened on the spot, heart clenching tight within your chest. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word. The voice had come from behind you, but the realization dawned instant. The timbre of it, the inflection of his words, the jovial nature and affection lacing the sentiment toward your friend.

And Robin understood. You watched as clarity drained her features, a sickly pale color overtaking her cheeks. As her mouth dropped open and she glanced over your shoulder to offer him a smile. You’d never told your friends much about the father. Hadn't even so much as uttered his name once since he’d hung up the call. Had only said he’d been someone you knew briefly and never saw again. Someone who’d known about the baby, and yet wanted nothing to do with it, sparing you from further heartbreak in some ways by rejecting you both outright. Now he was here, standing behind you in the cereal aisle in Hawkins, no longer in California.

With the tip of your head, you muttered, “I’m fine. Go say hi.”

Head bowing over the railing of your shopping cart, you listened as Robin and Eddie’s laughter filled the aisle. As he likely picked her up and spun her around, based on the sudden thump of feet you heard a short while after.

“And who is your friend here?” he asked, stepping closer to you. And when you turned, he stiffened, voice a little high and tight as he choked, “Buttercup?”

“It’s me,” you offered weakly, feeling very much like you’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. “Guess you’re back from California.”

The words came out harsher than you intended. Barbed in a way that felt unfamiliar to you. Especially with Robin standing uncomfortably in the distance, shifting on the balls of her feet, eyes dancing between the two of you like she didn’t know who she should focus her attention on solely.

“And you’re…here. In Hawkins,” he murmured, sounding a little breathless, hand reaching out to touch like he thought you might float away into the wind before his eyes. You didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing, but you stepped back all the same, an arm coming to cross over your chest, head angling away from him. “I, uhm. Sorry, sorry — can we talk?”

Hurt seared anew in your chest, eyes meeting Robin’s briefly. The other woman shrugged, and you faced Eddie once more. “I don’t know what we could possibly —”

“Five minutes,” he offered, biting at his bottom lip. “Just…five minutes.”

“I’ll go up front to check out. Give me the car keys,” Robin said, just as your resolve crumbled a bit and you dipped your head curtly. You did as told and she flashed you a weak smile, pushing the cart along. Her head whirled around. “Don’t forget you have an appointment soon. I’ll come get you if you’re still talking after five minutes.”

“Thanks, Rob. We won’t be long, don't worry.”

You waved, following Eddie out the sliding front doors to the supermarket, stomach lodged high in your throat.

——

Of all the things you imagined he might say if you saw him again, “You know, I really hoped you’d call,” was definitely not one of them. And it was exactly what he’d said as you stepped out into the street, tugging your winter coat tighter to your body to block out the chill in the air.

Hot anger pooled in your veins. Fists balled up at your sides. Those angry hormones Robin spoke of? You felt them building at his statement, forming a cyclone of whirling emotion, anger like acid on your tongue as you snapped back, “Are you kidding me? I did call you, Eddie. I fucking called you to tell you I was pregnant and you hung up on me. I can’t believe you just said that. You know, I already thought you were an asshole, but that took the —”

You’d started walking away from him, wanting to run back inside the store and pretend this whole ordeal had never happened. Five minutes had been a joke, you’d only made it thirty seconds before he’d gone and opened his mouth and infuriated you further than you already had been toward the man.

But then you heard it. The choked whoosh of breath, the wobbly, “What did you just say?”

There was another sharp inhale of breath. Staggered, like he’d suffered through it, his palm coming to rest over his sternum. Fear propelled you toward him, a hand coming to rest over his back as he hunched forward a bit, trying to catch his breath.

“Eddie…what’s happening right now?” Your voice was so quiet you worried he might not have heard you over the harsh gasps he tried to draw into ragged lungs.

Something like a moaned curse ripped from his lips and he dropped down into a crouch, back against a lamppost, seemingly the only thing holding him upright. You got down on your knees in front of him, rubbing along the taut muscles of his shoulders, tensed in his panic.

“Hey…” you whispered, completely confused as to what the hell was going on. And yet, he looked so broken, forehead on his knees, arms around his shins, trying to get a hold of himself. “Deep breaths, okay? Follow me.”

He listened to your words as you coached him through a few deeper breaths. Watched as his shoulders loosened up, as his lungs started to expand further, and the wheezing died down into a quiet whisper. Finally, he looked upward — at you, at your face, and your own breath faltered. Watery, his eyes were watery and you could see the confusion there. The unfathomable and unimaginable hurt.

“Why…why does it seem like this is the first time you’re…hearing this…”

“Because it is, god damn it,” he groaned. “Did you really think — you thought — I wouldn’t have —”

“I don’t really even know you,” you retaliated, following after him as he shot up and began walking the opposite direction of the store you’d come from. “Will you slow down?!”

“Should I be concerned that there’s a woman chasing you across the parking lot, Munson?” Robin barked out a laugh, pushing your shared cart along the parking lot, stopping when she reached where you presently stood, watching Eddie walk back and forth, still trying to gather himself. To you, she whispered, “Is he okay?”

“I’m…I’m not sure,” you said, frowning when he turned back around and brushed the back of his hand along his eyes, then glanced down at your midsection, hidden behind the layers of your now zipped jacket. “Hey, Eddie? I think we need to go somewhere and talk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding, those curls around his shoulder bobbing with the movement, “yeah, I think we can start there.”

“I have an hour before my doctor’s appointment,” you told him, then glanced at Robin. “If Eddie drives me to the diner, can you drive my car? And I can always walk to my doctor’s office.”

“I’m not making you walk in the cold.” Eddie shook his head. “I’ll — I can drop you off or something.”

Robin took your keys hesitantly, eying you both once more. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Robin asked you quietly. At your nod, she added, “This doesn’t sound like Eddie if he’s who I’m thinking he is. He’s a good guy, babe. Just…maybe hear him out, okay? No angry hormones.”

“No angry hormones,” you promised, and watched as Eddie and Robin loaded up your trunk with the groceries you bought.

Once your friend pulled out of the parking lot, it was time for you to climb into Eddie’s van. He rushed around to open the door for you, and held a hand out as you clambered up on in, heart thudding at the fleeting contact with the man after two months without. Hated that even now you felt that immediate rush, the jolt in your system that you’d felt that night.

He hopped in on the other side and watched your face as you angled your head over your shoulder at the back of the vehicle. Your yet unvoiced immediate thoughts as you took in your surroundings were quieted by his rapidly uttered, “I…can make it safer. For —” He glanced down again, “well, you know.”

Uncomfortable silence settled over the vehicle, the gentle hum of whatever music Eddie had put on immediately lowered when you jolted to life at the first blaring notes that spilled out. Scenery fluttered on by as your forehead pressed against the glass window, fingers curled into a fist on your lap, tension roiling in your form.

The diner appeared out of the corner of your eye, its neon glowing sign declaring they were open twenty four hours catching your eye as you dropped down from the passenger side door and joined Eddie on the sidewalk. He opened the door for you as you both approached and helped pull out a chair, that boyish smile on his face you so vividly remembered playing on his lips as he dropped down across from you and asked the nearest waitress for some water and a set of menus.

“I just want a giant plate of fries,” you groaned, practically tasting them in all their potatoey goodness.

“And a plate of fries for the lady, please!” Eddie called out just before the waitress slipped out of earshot. “I…it’s good to see you. You look great.”

“You too.” Your fingers balled up your straw wrapper, rolled it along the table mindlessly. “So, I guess we should rip the bandaid off and start at the beginning?”

“Beginning is good.”

“About a month after we’d been together I started feeling sick. So naturally I went to the doctor and, well, surprise.” You gestured vaguely to your form. “That’s when I called you. Or I thought I did? But the look on your face back there….Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He laughed, a dark sounding laugh that made your fingers twitch around your glass, refraining from reaching over to comfort the man. “You tried to tell me. Fuck — I’m going to find out who it was. But you have to know I’d never just…abandon my kid. Please know that. I might be scared as shit, but I wouldn’t abandon them like that. Wouldn’t abandon their mother like that either.”

“So you’re okay with it?” Fear gripped your chest, head lifting to look at him over the top of your glass of water. “Because you’re oddly calm about this at the moment and I just want to remind you this isn’t some kind of thing someone can half commit to. I — we have at least eighteen years ahead of us.”

“I understand that,” he said earnestly, an edge of harshness to his tone. His eyes narrowed a bit. “My dad was a piece of shit. I’m not about to follow in his footsteps.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, swallowing thickly, “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything by it. I’m just —”

“You’re a mother, I get it.”

It was the first time someone acknowledged it. The first time maybe you’d even acknowledged it. A mother; you were a mother. Not going to be — a present state.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I…I want to be there. In any way that I can. I know you’re doing most of the work right now, but I want you to know I’m here.” He exhaled deeply, hand coming to swipe over his jaw, rubbing gently. “I want to be here. For you,” he glanced down, “and them.”

“Okay. I guess we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this,” he agreed.

Silence settled over the two of you as a waitress appeared with your drinks and the plate of fries you decided you might as well share with Eddie. You wanted it to be awkward. Wanted it to be stilted, but he was just as charming as the night you’d first met him. Boisterous laughter, jokes that made your sides hurt, wide grins that made something swoop low in your belly.

“How was California?”

“Good — warmer than here at least. We recorded the album and we’re really happy with the result. It’s very true to our roots, which is what we wanted,” he said, tossing another fry into his mouth. “We might do a tour, but we have a year. Which…works out, given our current circumstances. Just how pregnant are you right now anyway?”

“Four months,” you told him, sipping at your water.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, in the beginning I was really sick. But luckily the past couple of weeks have been better,” you explained, offering him a smile when he grimaced. “I have pictures. I’ve kept copies in my bag…it’s silly, I know. Do you want to see them?”

“Can I?” He pressed his fist to his mouth as you slipped your hand into your pocketbook and fished out the small black and white images of varying stages throughout the past couple of months. You laid the first one in front of him, laughing as he squinted to try and figure out what exactly he was looking at. “It looks like a bean.”

“It kind of was. That was the first appointment,” you told him, handing him the most recent one after. “And this is my most recent appointment.”

His fingers glided over the curve of the spine. The shape of the head. Marveled at it with glassy eyes, your fingers curling over the leather of his jacket, right around his wrist to offer him some modicum of comfort. Allowed him to have a moment to let it all sink in. It had to be overwhelming. It had been, and still often was, for you to sit down and really accept that all of this was real.

He’d only had minutes to accept the news that his life as he knew it had changed, you had months.

“We should leave for my appointment soon,” you said, tucking away your napkin on the table.

“Would it be weird if I asked to come?” he asked, sounding so hopeful, younger than you knew him to be.

“It’s not weird. I mean, they’re half you, right?” you told him, watching him sign his signature on the receipt handed over by the waitress in passing before tucking it away. “But, uh, sure. Yeah.”

He lifted the picture of his unborn baby once more, grinned to himself, thumb brushing over the curve of their head. “Thank you.”

——

Father.

Eddie Munson hadn’t really ever had a good example of what that word stood for. For him, ‘father’ was the man who only came around every so often to ask his mother for money when she’d been alive. For drugs, to get himself out of a horrible situation, to try and pay a bill. For Eddie, father was the guy who taught him how to hotwire a car, the man who gave him his first black eye, someone who blamed his son for his every lot in life.

But as he grew, father became morning coffees with Wayne outside as the sun rose high over Hawkins. It meant putting up a Christmas tree around the holidays that looked more like a bush with lights than anything else. It meant learning how to fix cars with his hands, encouraging words to get him through high school, a call late at night when he was out of town working on his dreams of making music.

Right now, father was the word the technician had used when she asked you to confirm who he was to the baby when he sat down in that little office with you. It was the word she used when she asked him to fill out paperwork on his history, the word his soul screamed at him when he finally heard that tiny heartbeat working overtime.

His little ‘Party Favor’ he’d teased as you both walked back out toward the van after scheduling your next ultrasound. Twenty weeks, the big one, they’d told you both.

“Please don’t call our baby a party favor ever again,” you’d grumbled as you hoisted yourself up into the passenger seat, but he knew from the smile tugging at your lips when he settled down on the driver’s side that you hadn’t meant it.

“Where are you staying these days?” he asked, thumb curling around the steering wheel. “So I can drive you home.”

He hadn’t expected you to rattle off Steve’s address, but when you did, his eyes widened and you immediately asked, “Do you know where that is?”

“Kind of,” he said, turning his head to take in your pretty features. While he knew it probably wasn’t the best time to be admiring you as such, you looked so damn breathtaking his stomach twisted with it, “seeing as he’s my best friend.”

“Why am I not surprised? This day just keeps getting weirder.” You laughed, staring out into the streets as a gentle snow began to fall. “I happen to move to your hometown, where I also happen to then move into your best friend’s house.”

“I didn’t know you knew Robin.”

“It’s a small world.”

“And apparently getting smaller,” he said, eyes ahead on the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Thank you. For letting me come.”

The answer was silence. You’d curled up against the car door, forehead against the glass, mouth parted gently, lashes flush against the tops of your cheeks. His eyes drifted downward, to where your pocketbook rested next to your hip and your arm curled over your middle. Peaceful, you looked so peaceful — just like that night you’d spent together, where he’d watched as your eyes had started to flutter closed halfway through the movie and he’d held his breath as you rolled over and sought out the heat of his body.

He hadn’t lied. He didn’t have nights like those often. Had never even intended to go to that party that night. He’d only gone because the rest of the guys wanted to get out of the hotel for a bit and ended up rushing to put together a costume with less than a day’s notice. You’d sat at that bar, hunched over and bored and he’d been curious. He just never expected you to turn around, nor had he expected spending hours laughing with you over your drinks, or finding yourselves twisted in bedsheets.

And so much changed in a short four months. A stranger — you were mostly a stranger and now you were having his kid. Today, you’d been an acquaintance? A friend? He wasn’t sure what to think about it all. He still hadn’t fully processed the fact he would be a father in a few months to an innocent human being. Something so impressionable and his to raise.

He supposed that was also a conversation for another day. Something else to ponder after he dropped you off for the night and laid down for bed. Sighing, he shifted the car into park and glanced up at the front porch lamp hanging on the front of Steve Harrington’s doorway. He waved as Chrissy poked her head through the front curtains and noticed your sleeping form in the front seat.

Steve appeared in the doorway next, baby Melody on his hip as Eddie dropped down out of the van and rushed around the vehicle. “Say hi to Uncle Eddie,” Steve called out, holding up the baby’s hand in a little wave.

He waved back at the girl with a beaming gummy smile and tugged the door open, catching your shoulder as you rolled against the seatbelt a bit, eyes jolting open. “Hey, hey. You fell asleep, it’s just me.”

Your eyes searched his face in the night, and his heart lurched at the way they softened in recognition. “I’m sorry. You were talking and that was so rude of me I —”

“All good. I’m glad you got some sleep,” he chuckled, holding out a hand as you dropped down from the front seat and wobbled a bit before steadying yourself. “We’re here.”

The two of you made your way into the household, varying degrees of curious stares gliding over your forms as you stepped through the threshold. The first of which being Chrissy, who seemed unsure whether she wanted to keep her eyes on him or you.

“So you two have met it seems,” Steve said, “guess we don't have to get introductions out of the way.”

“We’ve met,” you muttered quietly, dipping your head as you yawned. A hand splayed over your midsection and Eddie watched the trail of your gaze stop on him. “Thanks for driving me today. I’m really tired and I should probably get to bed early.”

“Uh — y-yeah. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight everyone.” And you were gone, back trailing down the hallway toward the downstairs basement, the door shutting behind you with a resounding click.

There was a beat of silence, then, “Why didn’t you tell me she was living here?”

“What do you mean, you asshole? First time I see you in months and that’s the first thing you say?”

“That’s her.”

“The girl from the party?” Steve asked, mouth agape as Chrissy stepped forward to take the baby from him. She bounced their daughter around the kitchen island, pretending she wasn’t listening with her back to them, but Eddie knew better. Couldn’t fault her for wanting to protect a friend. “That’s the girl you couldn’t shut up about? Buttercup?”

“I need a drink. A strong one,” Eddie rasped, pulling out one of the island barstools. Propped his elbows on the counter and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “First I’m thinking when I see her at the store, ‘wow, maybe I get a second chance at this.’ Has to be, since she ends up here of all places. And then I find out she’s pregnant with my baby and I —”

“You hung up on her,” Chrissy interjected. Steve raised a brow in her direction. “Sorry. I just…you didn’t see her when she came to town.”

“But that’s the thing.” He paused to thank Steve as he dropped a glass in front of him on the table. “I didn’t know. I would have been on a plane if I knew. I hate thinking she’s been alone in all of this. And I know the day she was referring to. We’d had some stupid party after we’d finished the album and played some of the new songs for fun and we had some people over. She talked to someone, but I swear it wasn’t me.”

“We believe you,” Steve promised, settling down beside his friend. A hand curled around Eddie’s forearm and gave a tight squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

He groaned a hoarse cry of ‘fuck’ into his fist, head shaking back and forth. “I’m scared, man. I tried to be brave for her today, but I don’t even know the first thing about kids. In what universe did someone think I’d be fit to be a dad?”

“In all of them, Ed,” Chrissy sighed, coming up to rest a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Steve reached over and slid his palm over her smaller one, oozing that sweet fondness that most people only ever dreamed of. “You’re a good man. Don’t sell yourself short. You have a few months to figure out all the rest.”

“You told her you’re going to be there for her, right? I mean, if that’s what you want?” Steve asked, eyes intently searching his best friend’s face.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed, taking a large gulp of his drink. “I mean, not much I can do right now, but I’m going to be in whatever way she wants me to be.” His hand swiped down the front of his face.

“I’m going to put her down for bed and head up. Love you two.” Chrissy moved to exit the room, dropping a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head and shoving the back of it teasingly into the kitchen island. Once he’d bursted into a laugh, she bounced the baby higher on her hip and said, “And Eddie. It’s going to be okay. You have all of us too. You’re not alone; neither of you are. Don’t forget that.”

He sure hoped so.

Long after Chrissy had gone up for bed, and Eddie grabbed his jacket from the front coat hanger rack, Steve stopped him in the doorway. Pulled him in for a hug Eddie would normally end up throwing a fist into Steve’s stomach jokingly for. This time he clapped him on the back and let his lungs fully deflate. A sigh he’d been holding onto all afternoon released, the tension in his body along with it.

“To me, it looks like you got a second chance with her. Might look different than you thought it would, but you got a second chance. Whether that’s as co-parents, friends, or more — you still have something,” Steve told him, stepping back to open the door for his friend. “I’d take advantage of that opportunity. Not everyone gets one.”

And damn it, he decided he would.

——

let me know what you think! 💌 see you again next week for chapter three, titled ‘roommates.’ 😉

#lunaloveseddie #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson x f!reader

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 4 months

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The More You Give ❧ (Part VIII)

Pairing | Eddie x shy!reader Warnings | 18+ only. Do not interact if you are underage. Roleplay (PrincessxWannabe Usurper lmao), sexual fantasies (including rockstarxgroupie), Eddie says some weird possessive stuff but reader likes it, oral (M receiving), P in V sex, dom!Eddie, sexual guilt as per, there’s aftercare. Word Count | 10,400 A/N | Nobody ask me about the timeline of this story, either in the fic or how long it takes me to write it. Taglist Previous Chapter

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The air is stuffy, despite the growing chill outside. The last days of Summer are at least a week gone now, and with Autumn comes heated stores. An ABBA song is playing on the main floor, filtering through enough for you to make out the tune. It’s the sort of thing your Mom plays in the car all the time, your mind following the words even though you can’t quite hear them over the buzzing ceiling lights.

I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it. Slipping through my fingers-

The curtains pull back, the sound of metal over metal dragging you to full attention. May’s eyes are bright with excitement as she twirls, showing off how the strapless black dress fits around her waist and flares out at her hips.

“It’s perfect, right?” She says, smoothing it down only to twirl and puff the skirt up again. “Ooh, let me see with the jacket.”

You search through the bag at your feet for the cropped jacket she’d found earlier, then watch as she pulls it over her shoulders. She fluffs her hair and poses in the mirror at the end of the changing room hallway. “I mean it actually is perfect, right?”

“For sure, you can totally see who you are already.”

“Right? And then I can just backcomb my hair a little. My Mom’s gonna lend me her scarf. God knows what earrings I’ll wear, but I can work it out. Definitely can’t get anything new after this,” she finishes, turning her head and pulling at the tag on her back to double check the price. She pulls a face before tucking it away gingerly.

“That bad?”

“That bad. Even with 30% off.” May smooths her hands over the skirt again, turning once more to the mirror. Her smile lights up her pretty face. “But totally worth it.”

Once the dress is folded and wrapped in tissue paper by the woman at the counter, paid for with what seems like every spare penny in May’s purse, attention moves to your costume. “Okay, Fairy God Mother,” May says, linking her arm with yours. “Game plan. Where do we need to go?”

“I think just the costume store. I have a blue dress I can use. But I’d like some wings and a wand. Maybe a tiara, if I can afford it.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna look so cute. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Tommy’s party?”

“The whole reason I’m dressing up is for Grace,” you reason, spotting the orange banner reading City of Fright, which appears in the same spot every year mid-September and vanishes November first.

Gone are ABBA’s lilting tones, replaced with stock Halloween music, the occasional creepy laugh and thunder clap. The entire front of the store is complete costumes, wrapped up in plastic and hanging on metal rods, but once you reach the shelves at the back, you are surrounded by an array of vampire teeth, witches hats and face paints.

“Eddie’s renting Theatre of Blood,” you tell her, not waiting for a reaction before launching into a prepared defence. “It sounds really good. It’s about an actor who takes revenge on his critics by murdering them like Shakespearian deaths - drowning in Malmsey wine, that kind of thing. He picked it cause, you know, he thought I’d like it.”

“Okay, but she’ll be in bed by what? Eight?” May asks, wandering around the table of paraphernalia as you start thumbing through fairy wings piled next to fake blood bags, searching for the right blue. “You could come after.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she sighs softly. “Okay, I will say it’s kind of cute that he picked that. In a weird, not really that cute cause it’s a horror movie about gruesome murders, sort of way.”

You stifle a grin, chancing a look at her over the table. “That sounded…almost like a compliment?”

“Almost,” she agrees, walking back round to your side. Then, before you can answer, she has seized a shiny silver plastic tiara and is reaching out to place it gently on your hair. “There. Fit for a Princess.”

You shake your head, laughing. “What about a Fairy Godmother?”

May hums, grabbing a set of the net and wire wings and pulling them over her arms. “I’m the fairy now!” She declares, raising her chin and going up on tiptoes to whirl around the racks, wings shaking behind her. “Here to make all your Halloween costume dreams come true!”

Your heart warms, a giggle escaping as she peers curiously at the rubber masks and cat ears in character, mumbling about the strange habits of humans.

“Oh please, fairy godmother! I need a wand if I’m going to look anything like the real thing!”

“A wand, of course!” She cries dramatically. “No true fairy would be seen dead without their wand.” You watch her scurry on tip toe around until she comes to a display of wands of various colours, topped by stars and hearts, sequined tassels and glittery handles. She wiggles her fingers above them, picks out one with a simple silver star and travels back to you gracefully. You take it from her with a flourish. “There, and now your wings.” She helps you into your own pair, then turns and throws a graceful hand into the air. “Now, we fly!”

You flit about after her, laughing at her with every pause she takes to frown disapprovingly at fake scars and rubber spiders. She stops in front of a Tinkerbell costume, pointing with a surprised smile at the model on the package. “Hey, I know her!”

You snort a laugh and it sets her off, all attempts to stifle your laughter only making it worse. Your giggles are only beginning to settle when you feel the sudden awareness of being watched tickle the back of your neck.

“Uh, hi girls.”

Your heart drops. Caroline stands, a hand over her mouth, barely covering the smirk. “You look like you’re having…fun.”

Suddenly, the clear elastic of the wings is too tight around your shoulders. You can feel the crooked angle of the tiara atop your head, close to slipping off entirely. The wand in your hand isn’t silver now, just chipped paint on plastic.

Next to you, May is wrenching off her wings, laughing airily. “Just messing around,” she assures, folding them up and holding them with a tight fist at her hip. “You costume shopping?”

Caroline looks around at where you are. “I mean, obviously. Not for me, though, for Ethan,” she sighs. “You know boys, no interest in shopping.” She sets her stare on you, eyes scanning from the crooked tiara downwards. “Are you girls dressing up together?”

Your throat feels blocked, leaving you just to shake your head. May answers for you both. “No, no. Like I said, we’re just messing around. So we should probably put this stuff back.” She slides her wings into the space between some hanging masks before elbowing you into action. You’ve abandoned the tiara and wand and are in the process of sliding off the wings when she adds, coolly, “I’m actually going as Madonna.”

Caroline’s smirk falls, replaced at terrifying speed with a deep frown. “What? You can’t, I’m doing Madonna. I’ve got a veil and everything. Ethan’s going to be Sean Penn.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going as her in Desperately Seeking Susan, so it’ll be, like, totally different.”

“But I don’t think there should be two Madonna’s,” Caroline continues, almost sounding sympathetic. She crosses her arms, shrugging. “You’ll just have to go as somebody else.”

“Oh,” May says, shoulders falling. “Um, right. I get what you mean.”

You’re not in the habit of arguing with Caroline. It’s been easier, historically, not to contradict her or answer back. But you can feel May deflating beside you, and it tumbles out. “But you won’t look similar or anything, they’re completely different costumes.”

“They’re not though.” She answers with finality. “They’re both Madonna, and the last thing we want is comparisons, right? People talking about who wears it better all night?”

May nods. “You’re right. Totally. I’ll think of something else. No worries.”

“But May, your dress! You can’t return it now, it was on sale!”

“It’s fine,” May snaps before smiling close mouthed at Caroline. “I can find something else to wear, no issue.”

“You could be fairies together!” Caroline says. “I bet the guys at Tommy’s party would love that.”

“No, no, like I said, we were just messing around,” May says. “Not really my thing. And anyway, she’s not coming on Friday.”

“Oh no!” Caroline pushes her bottom lip out into a pout. “But I haven’t seen you outside of school in ages!”

“I’m babysitting,” you explain, clutching your removed wings in your fists.

“Oh sure you are, not spending the night with your boyfriend. We hardly see you anymore, I feel like there must be so much detail we’ve all been missing out on. You’ll have to come on the next girls trip, right May? So we can hear all about you and…Eddie.”

Your heart pounds as May nods. “Yeah,” she answers. “Eddie can’t have all your time.”

“Perfect. Well, let me know what you end up doing, May! See you later, girls!”

She flounces away, and May hides her face in her hands. “I can’t believe she saw me doing that.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not!” She says, throwing her hands up. Her eyes shine with frustrated tears. “It’s not okay! Not for me, anyway. It’s different for you, people already think you’re weird.”

You blink at your friend. Then you look down at the speckled linoleum floor, watch the spots fuzz and blend into each other as the lump in your throat builds. Before five seconds have passed, her arms appear at your sides, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean that.”

But you know that she did. You know that’s exactly what she thinks.

For the moment you have to think about what you say now, you imagine calling her out on this. Pushing her away and telling her that she doesn’t have to spend any more time with you, given you embarrass her so much. You’d buy your fairy wings and your crown, walk out with your head held high.

Maybe she’d call after you, apologise again, say that losing you isn’t worth impressing Caroline or sitting at the cheerleader table.

But maybe any pain she’d feel at the prospect of your friendship ending would only bring out her anger. Maybe she’d swear to never speak to you again.

If you were somebody else, someone who didn’t love May, maybe you’d take that risk. But you are you, and you’ve loved May since you were five. To you, the only thing worse than feeling hurt yourself is the thought of hurting her back.

So you shake your head at her shoulder, blink away tears and squeeze her tight in your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, pulling away from her collar that smells the way being seven smelled. You release her, and in turn her arms fall from you. “I get it, you’re just stressed.”

“I know! I don’t know what I’m going to do about my costume!”

Your heart pangs. You swallow the lump in your throat that’s trying to rise back up. “Well, at least the dress is black,” you say, sniffing quick and quiet. You drag your hands over your eyes, clearing away the wetness clinging to your bottom lashes. Stop it, you think. Stop crying. “Let’s return the jacket, yeah? Then you’ll have money for a witch hat or something.”

May nods slowly as she thinks it through. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, that works.” She gives you a relieved smile. “God, what would I do without you? Let’s go.”

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“Well, I didn’t think I wanted glasses because Katie has glasses,” Grace explains, holding her plastic pumpkin, now close to overflowing with candy, in both hands at her stomach. She looks at you with a look too knowing for a seven year old, then continues. “Katie is a tattle tale.”

“I see,” you nod.

“But I want ones like Jessica’s!” She cries, arms extending with the weight of her treasure trove before she pulls it back up. “They go dark in the sun!”

“It’s not the same,” she whines. “And then when we went to the optom- uhm.”

“But you already have sunglasses,” you reason, picturing the little red plastic pair you’ve had to run back for when out on walks many times. Grace hefts the pumpkin again and you give in, lifting the bag from her grasp and burying your wand in with the candy. You soften when she grabs your hand with a deep sigh.

“The optometrist?”

“Yeah, when we went to see him, he said my eyes were perfect!”

“Well, that’s good.”

“No!” She yells, dramatically, pulling on your arm with her whole weight until you have to heave yourself back up. You stifle a giggle at her distraught expression. “Because now I’ll never get glasses, and everybody has them.”

“Well, first of all, I’m sure not everybody has them,” you say, smiling down at her grumpy face. “And secondly, you shouldn’t just want something like glasses because other people have them, even if it was everybody else. You can’t just live your life just trying to be like everyone around you.”

“I know,” she mumbles. Then, catching your raised eyebrow, “I know!”

You round the corner to her street, and by the time you’re approaching her house, she’s moved comfortably on to the next topic of her candy eating schedule for the next three days. “Because Jessica saves all her Skittles for last,” Grace explains, her position now firmly against being anything like Jessica. “Which is stupid, because you should have the best candy first.”

“Mm? Why’s that?”

Grace looks at you with a frown. “Because the best comes first,” she tells you, with the tone of somebody kindly trying to hold in their frustration with an imbecile.

“Of course, silly of me to ask. Hi, Mrs. Miller!”

Grace’s Mom was clearly waiting for you near the front door, already out and standing on the front steps as you walk up the front path. Grace holds her hands out to take her bucket back, launching forward when she’s got ahold of it. “Mom! Look at all my candy!”

“Whoa! There’s no way you’ll be able to eat all that!” Her Mom says, eyes comically wide. “Think you need someone to help you out, hm?”

Grace shrieks indignantly, running under her Mom’s arm inside and clambering up the stairs out of sight without a bye nor leave for you.

“Everything went okay?” Her Mom asks, smiling when you give her your usual answer, all fine. “Will you be okay getting home? I can get her back down if you need a ride.”

“Oh, um,” you check either side of the street, feeling suddenly warmed inside at the sight of Eddie’s van parked at the end of the road. Now that you’re concentrating on it, you’re sure you can hear the music blasting behind glass. “No, it’s okay. That’s my boyfriend.”

“Ah, Eddie.” She smiles, then smacks her teeth as she, too, registers his music. “Maybe tell him to keep it down next time? I don’t mind but I already get monthly phone calls from Mrs O’Hara about the sound of the lawnmower.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll do that,”

“Okay,” she says, calling after you as you start up a fast pace towards Eddie. “You have a good night!”

You pull your cardigan sleeves down over your hands to fight the chill as you move, smiling when you can properly make out Eddie sitting in the front seat. He had a special D&D night planned when he dropped you off at Grace’s earlier. While your costume sat folded in your bag all day, he’d gone to school dressed all in black, even his white Reeboks swapped out for a pair of knockoff doc martens he’d launched himself towards when he caught sight of them at the thrift store. They’d fit him just fine with three pairs of socks.

This morning, sitting in his van, he’d barely managed to control his excited twitches while you lined his eyes with a cheap black pencil from the drugstore. Your work is a little smudged now, but on him, it looks even better than before. Which makes sense, you think. Eddie doesn’t suit neat lines.

“Hi Princess!” He calls, turning the music down enough that his excitement is just audible through the glass as you approach.

“Not a Princess,” you remind him as you climb in, turning your back to shake your shoulders and display the blue net wings. “A Fairy God Mother.” You settle back into the seat, shivering away the chill that had gooseflesh rising over your body. Eddie rubs your arm over your cardigan, and you take the opportunity to grab his hand. As much as you want to warm your cold fingers, it’s mainly just to touch him. “How was the game?”

His grin turns sharp as he leans back in his chair, chin tilted up. “So fucking good. I have them right where I want them. I thought for a second Lucas had me worked out. He hesitated when they were getting to the caves, but then he just went along with it. I can’t wait till next week.” He lets go of your hand long enough to start up the van before returning his open palm to the space between you for you to take hold of him again. “How is Princess Grace?”

“Increasingly despotic. She executed like five of her toys before we went out trick or treating.”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “What for?”

“Well, her not-so-wise Fairy God Mother,” you start, gesturing to yourself. “Made the mistake of telling her about royal food tasters? Now there’s a poisoning attempt every few days.”

“Very active imagination, this girl. Violent, but active.”

“Mm, I think most girls play that way. When I was little- Well, me and May, we’d act like witches sometimes? And make potions out of mud and sticks and stuff. And talk about who we would curse.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “And which poor soul had earned this spite, pray tell?”

“Did you ever have Mr Gilmour?”

“Oh, Gilmour, yeah, I fuckin' hated that guy!” Eddie yells. His eyebrows furrow. “I threw up during gym in seventh grade and the sadistic prick made me finish running a mile.”

“Yeah, I forgot about that till now.” His brows stay taught for a second longer, then he shakes his head a little, tapping his fingers along your knuckles. “Too bad I didn’t have you around then, coulda cursed him for me a little earlier.”

“Oh, Eddie, that’s horrible.”

“I would have,” you promise. “But you were telling me about the game. Did you get Dustin with the, um, venom troll?”

“Not yet. We didn’t get as far as I’d have wanted before they had to go. I mean, what fourteen year old has a curfew? I didn’t, and I turned out alright. But I’ll get him next week. I can’t wait to see his face - that little punk thinks he’s so smart, but he is pre-dictable.”

Eddie continues describing the campaign, the traps he’s set for them that he’s sure they’ll run into, the whole drive to his place, excited and animated as he usually is on the rare occasion you get to see him after Hellfire, wound up from the events of the day. He only slows down when you’re settled on his couch. Sneakers left at the door, wings, tiara, and wand abandoned on the kitchen table, wrapped up in his arms as the opening titles of Theatre of Blood play.

Eddie’s so warm, and unusually still when you sit with him like this. Being cuddled up to him puts you in mind of your aunt’s black cat. She spends the first couple hours of every visit pretending that she isn’t interested in being anywhere near you. Then, after letting her sniff your hand, rubbing gently between her ears, she darts up on your lap, her soft heat spreading through you.

Eddie might not admit it, at least not verbally, but he likes being petted the same way. You’ve seen his eyes flutter when you play with his hair, heard the gentle sighs he lets out when you touch his cheek. Now, leaning into his chest, rubbing lazily at his torso, you can feel the way his body relaxes into the couch under your touch. It makes you smile at the TV even as Vincent Price swears revenge on all his critics.

You turn your head just a little, trying to be subtle as much as possible so you can look at him properly. Eddie’s eyes, which in sunlight can be bright as copper, are dark and focused in the electric light of the TV. The light freckles that dotted the tops of his cheeks and nose during Summer have faded from the cloudy days and early sunsets, leaving only his soft pale skin. His lips, as always, are soft looking and pink, still shiny from the last time his tongue peeked out, set in a near constant subtle pout.

You sigh gently, and in turn breathe in the remnants of smoke and laundry detergent from his shirt, the fading spice of his drugstore aftershave.

“You know I picked this movie out special,” he says, only his eyes moving to fix you with a mockingly suspicious expression. “Vincent’s a master.”

You’re surprised to find you’re not ashamed at having been caught. “M’just looking at you.”

“Therein lies the problem, sweet thing. One minute you’re just looking. Next thing I know my head’s trapped between your thighs.” This time he leans in properly. “Wicked temptress.” He whispers it, his breath warming your face.

You think he’ll kiss you then, but instead he relaxes back into the couch with a sigh. “M’just lucky you weren’t dressed up all day.” His hand tugs at the hem of your skirt, then spreads out just above your knee. “I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else. It’s a miracle I even got the movie playing instead of trying to touch you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you answer, trying not to sound too eager.

“I bet,” he says, eyes shining. Then his face turns serious, palm coming to his heart. “But Eddie the Chivalrous would never touch a Princess without properly wooing her first.” His eyes scan over your face quickly. “I guess that means we need to finish the movie.”

He’s teasing you. He wants to push, see how much he can get you to say, if you’ll ask him outright to just touch you the way you want. Warring feelings compete to decide what you do next. Maybe months ago, when you first started dating Eddie, you would have pressed your thighs together and settled in to finish the film. A part of you still calls for that, screams that whatever you say won’t be right.

You stare at Eddie now. His eyes still lined dark, the smirk he’s trying to hide. Your toes curl just looking at him, and the thought escapes naturally. “You don’t look like Eddie the Chivalrous, right now.”

Eddie blinks slowly. His head tilts. “No? Who do I look like, then?”

Now, something like shame creeps back in, and you wish you’d just settled down to watch the movie.

You haven’t ever put a name to it before. In your fantasies, the ones that appear unprompted when you’re alone in your bed and you haven’t been able to touch him in a couple days, Eddie’s always Eddie, but sometimes just a little different.

Maybe Eddie the Chivalrous is the right name for how you first thought about him like that, calling you Princess as usual but meaning it. You thought about him as your knight and guard, sworn to protect you, breaking all the rules by laying you down and treating you gently, better than any lord or Prince you could be promised to.

Then you’d think about his laugh, the one that comes out when you moan a little loud, or lose your patience and try to direct his hands or his tongue to where you need him. The mocking gasp and teasing tone that often comes along with it, you want it bad, huh, Princess? You think about an Eddie who’s like that all the time, teasingly mean with you, dark and dangerous to everyone else, finding you alone in your soft bed, holding your hands above your head and- and-

People already think you’re weird.

You give in to the sudden hot shame, pressing your face to Eddie’s chest lest he read your expression so perfectly that he works it all out. You whisper into his shirt, more to yourself than him. “I’m so weird.”

“Well, s’a good thing you’re with me then, mm?” He says, big hand moving to stroke the back of your neck. “Cause if you got a fantasy, like, something you think about when I’m not around. You know I won’t judge you for it, right?”

“I know.” It comes out muffled against his shirt but it’s certain. It’s instinctual, now. You’re as sure that you don’t need to worry about Eddie judging you as you are that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. More and more, you find yourself talking to him the way you talk to yourself in your head. Easy and free, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this is different. “It’s just- It’s like-” You sigh, searching for the words that won’t come.

He hums, still rubbing your neck. “Maybe I could- I mean, do you…wanna hear one ‘a mine?” You emerge from your hiding place, leaning back into his hand to gauge how serious he is. Eddie’s eyes crinkle at the sides at having coaxed you into looking at him again. “Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoes. Eddie searches his side for the remote first, pausing Vincent in the middle of another monologue. “Okay. Well, yeah, sometimes I think about- Wait no, gotta set the scene. I’ve just played maybe the best show of my life. Nothing too big,” he continues, giving you a serious look. “I’m not a sell out. We’re talking the smaller arenas, you know? Anyway, after, when I get backstage, feeling like hot shit, there’s this girl. Prettiest I’ve ever seen. And she’s wearing the band’s shirt.”

“And she’s a little shy. Can barely look me in the eye-” He catches you just as your gaze moves to his collar, pulling you back to staring, helpless, into his dark eyes. Eddie takes your hand from where it was playing with the hem of his shirt, weaving your fingers together. “She’s kinda fidgety, too.”

You swallow. “Me?”

“You, sweet thing. S’always you.” You bite the gum behind your bottom lip, holding back from grinning too much. You squirm a little under his gaze, waiting for him to speak again. “And you tell me you’ve been waiting for me,” Eddie says, voice smooth and quiet. “You tell me you’re my biggest fan. And you can’t quite say everything you wanna say, but it doesn’t matter, cause I’ve got you worked out. So I get real close,” he says, his face disappearing as his mouth moves towards your ear, “and I ask if you want me to touch you?”

“And I do,” you continue for him, shivering again at the little groan Eddie lets escape from his throat.

“Mm hm, real bad.” His eyes reappear, scanning over each part of your face. “So bad you wanna earn it. Wanna show me I was right to pick you and not some other girl. You get on your knees for me.” Eddie licks his lips quick. “And I know you’re kinda inexperienced, but it’s good, the best I’ve ever had. You know why?” You shake your head, gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth. You watch his lips move around his words. “Cause you’re so fucking grateful for it.”

“Mm. And when I decide you’ve earned it, I lay you back on a couch somewhere. A green room or a tour bus or something. And I show you you were right to wait for me.” You shiver. It’s a delicious thrill to picture Eddie that way, completely new to you, a total stranger, yet so sure of what he can take. “And after that?” He says, giving the back of your neck a squeeze. “I keep you.”

“Eddie.” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, wishing he would touch you there now, or even put you on your knees the way he wants so you could show him you’re as grateful for him here and now as you are in his fantasy.

The fantasy fades when Eddie kisses you. With the press of his lips, the taste of Dr Pepper on his tongue, he’s your Eddie again, familiar and perfect. You’re still floating back to Earth when he pulls away. “Your turn.”

You flinch, crashing to the ground instead. “What?”

“You like Latin, right? It’s quid pro quo, sweetheart. I show you mine, you show me yours. Tit for tat. That was the deal.”

“It was implied.” Eddie answers breezily. Then, with his thumb rubbing gently at the back of your hand. “C’mon. Try? You liked mine, right?” You give a barely noticeable nod, but Eddie catches it. “Yeah. And I bet I’ll like yours.”

“There was no deal!”

“I can’t- I don’t have it all, like, thought out the way you do.”

“Well, I’m a storyteller by trade,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. “All my sex fantasies have lore. And we can build on yours, if it needs it.Alright. I’m not Eddie the Chivalrous right now. Who am I?” He tilts his chin to where you have started playing with his rings, twisting each round his fingers in turn. “Apart from Eddie the Stress Toy.”

“It’s not- You’re just-” You swallow, rubbing your thumb over the metal skull sitting where a wedding ring would go. “You’re just somebody…somebody I shouldn’t want.”

“Intriguing. And you are?” Your face flames. You mumble it, barely opening your lips, and Eddie squints. “Mm?”

You sigh. “Princess.”

“Always,” Eddie replies, ducking his head to make sure you see his face, reassuringly still smiling. “Okay. I can work with this. Maybe I'm…Eddie the Banished. I tried to take power for myself by force but I failed.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses the thin skin at your wrist. “And I’ve returned, because I realised I don’t need to win a battle. I just have to…take the Princess?”

You clench around nothing. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, yeah. C’mon, sweet thing.”

Your gaze follows him as he stands. “You want- Right now?”

“Why not? We’re all dressed up. The time is now.” Eddie pauses his excitement when he registers the fact you’re still sitting. “If…if you want.”

“I do,” you breathe. “But I can’t, y’know, talk like you.” You just know Eddie already has some dialogue thought up, things he can say as the character he’s just come up with that will make you dizzy. “I’ll get stuck.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,” Eddie says, squatting down in front of you, hands spread out on your knees. “I don’t mind taking the lead. Besides, the Princess would be kinda nervous anyway, right? If you’re not supposed to want me. The outlaw, the traitor. You’ve been told about all the terrible things I’ve done, what I tried to do for power. Now you feel guilty about what you really want from me. And I’ve been thinking about you while I’ve been on the run, living rough- You know, this is good stuff,” he says, interrupting himself and looking round. “You got a pen? I should maybe write some of this down- No. After, sorry.” He gives you a sheepish grin, then leans in close. “Don’t think there’s much chance I’ll forget this, anyway.”

He stands then, hand extended to you with wiggling fingers for you to take and let him guide you through to his room. Eddie hums when his door is closed, shutting out the world beyond the frame. “Shoulda done this at yours,” he says, sitting you down on the mattress. “In your pretty Princess bed.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say breathlessly, meaning it entirely. All that matters is it’s him. He’s the only person you could do something like this with.

“Okay, I need a little more. You shouldn’t want me, I’m…morally grey, let’s say. Chaotic neutral. Am I mean?”

“Kinda,” you answer. “You’re…selfish?”

“Selfish,” he repeats.

“Just like, y’know. It’s like-” Eddie’s hands spread at the sides of your thighs, teasing the skin at the hem of your skirt. You want them everywhere. “You know I want you. That I’ll…do things for you. And you take advantage. ”

There’s a pause. “I think I’m following. Things somebody like you shouldn’t do?” You nod quickly, cheeks burning as you watch him work it out. “You wanna get your mouth on me, Princess?”

You fight the instinct to hide, the urge to look away, the voice telling you to deny everything, take it back. Instead, you start playing with the hem of his shirt again, soft cotton between your fingers.

“Mm hm.”

“Shit. Okay. Anything-” His voice cracks a touch, and he clears his throat before he speaks again. “Anything else?”

“It’s not like- Even though you’re mean, you still- With me, you feel-” Now you do have to look away, staring at where your fingers are fiddling with the black fabric. He can read you too well, and you don’t want him to see exactly what you want from him. “You-”

You love me.

“I feel…how I feel about you?” He suggests.

You bite the gum behind your lip to stop yourself asking exactly what that means. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good. Hard to pretend anything else.” Eddie leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, long enough that your whole body relaxes into it, your mind settling on Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. When he pulls away, it’s easy to answer his question. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie stands to full height, his shoulders back. He tilts his head, expression shifting. From your Eddie, with chestnut eyes and his perfect, dimpled smile, to a smirking man with a dark gaze excited to ruin you.

“I’ve been looking for you, Princess,” he says, voice smooth and confident. A thrilled shiver runs up your spine. “Knew I’d find you eventually, but I could only hope I’d find you like this. All alone.” He takes a step towards you. “Unprotected-”

“Eddie,” you whisper.

Softness peaks through with raised eyebrows. “Good?” You nod quickly, and it disappears again as he slinks closer towards you. “I missed you, while I was away,” he tells you, soft and teasing. “Did you miss me?”

“I-” You swallow. You’re used to repeating back what Eddie says to you, in times like this, letting him guide you through everything he wants to hear from you. But you don’t want to just watch him do this for you. “No.”

Eddie blinks, surprised, then he puts on a mockingly hurt face, hand over his heart. “No? You wound me, Princess.” That same hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb strokes gently under your eye and you can’t help but lean into him. “Or you would, if I believed you.” He tilts your head up to see him properly, standing over you. “You think I didn’t see the way you’d look at me, before I left?”

Your fingers twitch to reach out and brush at the ends of his hair as it falls towards you, but you keep them at your sides on the bed, curling into the sheets. “You didn’t leave, you-”

“Left, banished, driven out; it all comes to the same end, mm?” His eyes scan your face, down your dress and back up. “That’s you and me, Princess. Here, alone together. You gonna pretend you never wanted that?”

His thumb, callused and warm, keeps rubbing over your cheek. “I can’t want it”

“No, you can,” he presses. Eddie, your Eddie, would sit with you now, squat in front of you to talk to you at the same level. Now, his grip on your jaw tightens just enough to remind you that he could stop you looking away if you tried. “Cause I’ve had time to think about it.”

“While you were hiding in the woods?”

“While I was regrouping,” he corrects. “I realised something. I went about it all wrong.” he tells you. “It was foolish of me to try and use force to get what I want. Not when you were right here. Waiting for me.”

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, then presses inside to the tip of your tongue.

“If I make you mine, everything else follows. That’s right, isn’t it?” He nods slowly until you copy him. “The throne, power, vengeance on everyone who tried to hold me back. And you, in my bed every night. All day if I wanted.” He pulls at your lip again as he steals his thumb back, leaning in until his breath is warm against your cheeks. “That sounds nice. Doesn't it, Princess?” You glance at his lips, wanting him to kiss you now, to take it from you. Eddie shakes his head, drawing your gaze back to his. “I wanna hear you say it. You wanted me to touch you, just like this, and more, didn’t you? Wanted me to show you how to make me happy?”

You can feel your heartbeat heavy in your chest, your breath coming quicker. Only Eddie could do this, have you convinced of a story which before tonight only existed half formed in the fantasies of your bedroom. You can feel the internal conflict as if it really is your duty to say no, and your heart’s only desire to give your next answer.

“Yes, Eddie.”

He gives you a kiss that’s half teeth, dragging at your bottom lip. Even this is different. You’re used to the gentle start, feeling him smile on your mouth. He breathes deep through his nose, pulls from you so suddenly that you make to follow him until he presses a hand to your shoulder.

“And I will. Get on the floor.” Eddie steps back, and it doesn’t even occur to argue with him now. You slide off the mattress easily, knees falling to the carpet without looking away from him. There’s a pause. He speaks quietly, as if he doesn’t want an invisible audience to hear. “You comfy? You want the pillow?”

“No,” you answer, heart aching. “I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

You watch the way he steels his face again, looking at you on your knees in front of him like that’s where you’re meant to be. His hands work at his belt, a soft hiss escaping when he presses his palm down the front of his pants. His head tilts back, displaying his thick neck, the rising pinkness across his pale throat, and he breathes a laugh. “Now, Princess- Wait!” You jump at the suddenness of Eddie pulling his hand from his pants only to clasp them at his waist as he half-jogs towards the door. “Just a second. Don’t move!”

Eddie disappears through the door, mumbling to himself. His words are faint but it’s clear enough that he is looking for something. You close your eyes, focusing on his voice, however fuzzy. You never thought you could have something like this. Someone like Eddie. Someone safe. So safe that you can abandon yourself to fulfilling a silly fantasy thought up under the covers of your bed.

Something catches your hair and you open your eyes to find him standing over you again. The tip of his tongue curls over his top lip as he places the plastic silver tiara just so on your head. When it’s as he wants it, his teeth show with his smile. “Perfect,” he says, pressing two fingers to your chin and turning your head each way. “My Princess, mm? I’m going to show you what it is to be mine.”

Eddie reaches into his pants to pull himself free. His hand drags over the shaft, quick and dirty, just for a moment’s relief if the clench of his jaw the second he stops is any indicator.

You think you know what to do now, tipping your chin, opening your mouth, ready to take him. Only he angles his head away from your tongue. You peer up at him in confusion, watch the way his excitement plays out on his face. “C’mere, Princess.”

Cupping your cheek with his spare hand, he guides you to the base of his cock, where he is softest. Your lips graze the fuzzy skin of his balls and Eddie makes a noise that has you squirming for the lightest touch between your legs. You kiss delicately, blinking up at him, watching his thumb rub over the head of his cock, catching wetness to ease the slow movement of his hand. He taps his fingers on your cheek gently. “Open up. Want your tongue.”

Your toes curl. You want to taste him here, aching at the smell of him; like his neck at the end of the day in Summer, his sweat and musk, fading body wash. You want to make Eddie feel good so badly, you think you might do whatever he asks as long as he looks at you the way he is now.

You reach for him, palm settling on his knee where denim meets exposed skin. Opening your mouth, you lick quickly at the seam of his balls, taste salt on soft skin. He groans, fingers flexing around your jaw. “That’s it,” he encourages. “Fuck yes,” Eddie bites out when you lick broad and wet up to the base of his cock, thinking of his wide tongue drawing upwards from your pussy to your clit. “Fuck, yes.”

He draws you back, smiling down at you. It makes your face burn, but you struggle between looking him in the eyes and staring at his cock. His balls are pink and wet from your attention, his hand moves steadily over his length, drawing folds of skin over his thick head and back.

“Want you to suck on them a little,” he tells you. The pause he leaves gives a moment for you to squeeze at his knee, as if presenting your open mouth wouldn’t be enough to show your agreement. He drags the weight of his balls over your chin to your wet tongue, listing off curses when your lips close just enough to suck gently. Eddie’s hand moves faster over his length, the curve of his fingers brushing your forehead with each tug.

Eddie’s groans are all that matter now. His sack is heavy, falling past your lips the wider you open your mouth. “So fuckin’ full cause of you,” Eddie bites. You hum, closing your eyes, his hips stutter. First towards the warmth of your mouth and then away entirely, replacing his sack with the head of his cock tapping against your tongue.

Eddie gasps when you lap at his leaking tip. “Can I-” He pauses, rephrases, puts on the right tone. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, Princess.”

He watches you carefully, gives you time to tell him no. You squeeze his knee once more, gaze moving from his dark eyes to his cock. You press a quick kiss to the swollen head, a darker pink than the rest of him where it peeks through folds of skin, then let him press your head back against the mattress.

Eddie’s cock glides smoothly over your tongue to the top of your throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, rolling his hips. “M’starting to think this is what you wanted the whole time.” He eases further, just past the entrance of your throat. It’s easier, like this. You are more open to him with your head tilted back this way. He holds himself in the warmth of your mouth, watching you blinking back tears to try and keep him clear in your gaze. Finally your throat protests, and Eddie draws back till you can suck at his head, the exposed length of his cock shining with your spit. You gaze at him, wanting him to be proud of you for taking him deeper than you have before. He makes a soft encouraging noise, but Eddie like this won’t give you the validation you want so easily. “Teased me for so long. I think I deserve to take what I want, now.”

Eddie thrusts slowly at first, easing you in despite his words. The hand that was on your cheek now stroking at your heated forehead.

You like it like this.

You liked having him in your mouth the first time, and every time after that. Like watching him shake, hearing him groan and whine, and knowing that you’re the one making him like that. You like focusing on him; lick here, nip there, let him feel you moan around him. Now, you don’t even have to think about how best to please him. You can focus on your breathing, taking air in through your nose when he pulls back enough. And on Eddie and how he looks as he takes his pleasure from you.

Eddie’s so beautiful. His dark hair frizzes around his face, eyes crinkling at the sides when he closes them and groans into the air. His neck is pink, a pretty blush crawling up to his cheeks as his thrusts speed up. “We’re gonna do this all the time, Princess, you hear me?” He grits, fingers curling into the sheets at the side of your head. You moan in answer, pleased when it makes his cock twitch in your mouth, his tip dipping deep enough past the entrance of your throat that you can’t blink away the wetness that springs to your eyes. “You’re gonna be in my bed all the time, maybe I’ll tie you up, mm?” He presses deep again, then holds steady. When the tears collected at the corners of your eyes start to fall, he wipes them away before they can reach the apples of your cheeks. “Keep you here, just for me. Don’t need to see or talk to anyone else ever again.”

If your head weren’t fuzzy, you’d start questioning why that makes you ache. Eddie withdraws his cock from the top of your throat and you only take a second to gasp in the air you need before following him, reaching up to touch the inches of his cock your mouth still can’t quite cover. Eddie laughs through a moan at the feeling of you jerking his cock into your mouth, licking wet at the end of him. “You want that, huh? Hey-” He drags you away from his cock, leaving you with wet, pleading eyes looking up at him. “You want that?” Your mouth opens, then closes. Your hips roll, seeking friction you can’t get while kneeling like this. Eddie’s eyes flick down, lips turning up at the sight. “Get on the bed for me, mm?”

Eddie reaches a hand out to help you sit up on his mattress. Then he pulls his shirt off over the back of his head, exposing all the soft pale skin and dark ink of his torso. You pull your dress up too, knocking your tiara in the process. When the dress is off entirely, Eddie’s there in an instant to fix it for you, his fingers caressing your cheek when he’s done. “Hey, uh. Am I doing alright? Is this the sort of thing you imagined?”

“This is better,” you tell him earnestly, loving how pleased he looks. You’re learning that this, the pleasure gained from praise, is something you and Eddie share. You love it when Eddie calls you good, or smart, or sweet. When he tells you that you’re good at something he’s teaching you. In turn, Eddie likes it when you tell him how good he makes you feel, that he’s doing everything right, that he’s looking after you exactly how you want it.

He kisses you, and it’s softer this time until he bites gently at your bottom lip as he’s pulling away. “C’mon and lie down, Princess,” he says, guiding you to lay down. You press your legs together, knees bent and feet flat to the mattress as Eddie climbs up after you. His hands stroke up and down your thighs, making you giggle softly as he passes ticklish spots. It relaxes you enough to let him guide your legs open and back, allowing him closer. Eddie tilts his head, thumbing the little blue bow at the waistband of your panties. “You really want me to tie you up?”

Without thinking, you glance quickly at the handcuffs hanging from his door. You feel the beat of your heart against your chest, wondering if you’re ready for that, knowing really that you’re not. Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to him. He kisses your knee. “Not tonight, Princess.” He leans in, whispers. “And only ever if you really want, okay?”

“I know, Eddie,” you answer. And you do. You know that as much as Eddie is teaching you, seemingly leading you along to each new experience, in truth he’s making sure you set the pace.

“Take this off for me,” he says, pulling at the strap of your bra. You reach underneath your back to unhook it, shimmying it off your arms and letting it drop to his floor. Once you’re settled, he takes both your hands in his, pulling them up over your head. You can’t help but giggle, feeling both nervous and giddy. “Hold onto the headboard?” You follow the instruction, wrapping your fingers around one of the wooden slats. Stretched like this, chest presented to him, you feel open and exposed, your nipples tightening from the cold air and from Eddie’s attention. “Don’t let go, mm?”

He leans down, kissing from the base of your neck down the skin between your breasts, his hair dragging behind him, tickling the sensitive skin. He leaves a wet mark on the curve of your left breast, the sting of his teeth quickly soothed by his tongue. When he takes the tight bud of your nipple between his lips, your whole body tenses. It’s a test of your submission, if you can last with only your memory of what it feels like to tangle your fingers in his hair. If you can bear not to tug at it when he flicks his tongue like that.

Your hands tighten around the wood, hips tilting to find his cock where he tucked it back in his boxers, still hard and throbbing between your legs. The friction, however light, against where you have been waiting for him all evening, is too good to give up, and you keep searching for his hardness to rub against.

Eddie releases your breasts with a grin. “You want it bad, huh, Princess?”

You whine, melting when he presses his hips forward to give you more delicious friction along your pussy. He huffs a laugh, sitting up and quickly reaching out for the pack of Trojans on his bedside. You watch him kneel between your legs, the way he fists his cock while he tears at the foil square with his teeth, his desperation to roll the condom over his length. Eddie shuffles forward on his knees and presses his wide hands to the back of your thighs. He gently guides your legs back, hitching your hips up for better access to your pussy, wet and swollen under his gaze.

“Wanted this for so long, Princess,” he says. “You’ve been waiting too, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie. Been waiting so long.” You nearly cry from relief when his cock latches at your entrance, then from despair when he stills instead of filling you. The headboard creaks from your squirming. “Please,” you whisper, sounding pathetic in a way that would embarrass you if you weren’t aching from the emptiness.

Eddie stretches you perfectly as he presses inside your slick cunt. The tease of pain feels good now that your body recognises what it means, where Eddie filling you up leads. “Good?” He asks, once he’s deep enough inside that the curls of hair above his cock are teasing your clit.

You mean to answer properly, but the intention is overtaken by the need for him to move. Waiting for him, your fingers tighten around the wood so much you swear there will be marks from your nails. “Eddie.” It comes out whinier than you intended, but he certainly doesn’t mind.

“Eddie,” he mimics breathily, his teeth showing as the heat of pleasant humiliation crawls up your spine. He doesn’t keep you waiting any longer, snapping his hips to draw back and press deep again through your clenching cunt.

You’ve been under him every time, but like this you feel helpless. Hands voluntarily useless, body tilted up and legs opened by his hands, your body presented to him and positioned perfectly for him to set the pace. It feels right for this - you know now what the romance novels you hide under your bed mean when the heroine is taken.

Your toes curl when Eddie’s hips roll just right, the heavy head of his cock hitting the end of you. When he reaches between you to press a thumb to your clit and rub in tight circles, your body tilts, hips trying to chase the pleasure, only for Eddie to press you back down to where he wants you.

“I like it,” you answer. “I like it, Eddie.”

“You like it, like this, hm?” Eddie asks. You blink at him slowly, wondering if it’s your boyfriend or Eddie the Banished asking. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe it, hair shaking. “Knew you would. Pretty Princess just needed to be fucked right, mm?” You shudder, tightening around his cock enough that he gasps, “fuckfuckfuck. S’good. It’s so good, honey.”

You breathe a laugh. “Princess, to you.”

“My apologies,” he says, snapping his hips to land heavy against the spot at the back of your pussy. You gasp, legs kicking out against his grip involuntarily only for him to tighten his grip and push them back to where he wants them. You can hear how wet you are, the sound of him moving inside you as loud as the bed springs, as loud as your moans. “Mine now, aren’t you, Princess?”

You nod easily. “Yes.”

“Gonna give me everything I want from now on, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yes-”

“Made it so easy for me. Should have just done this in the beginning, just taken you for myself.”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, head tilting back as his hips speed up. “Fuck, I can’t- Can’t get enough of that.” When he looks back to you, the detached, mocking look is gone. He’s all intensity and warmth, your Eddie again. Your whole body tightens. “Tells me everything I need to know when you say my name like that.” He gives you a mean thrust, tongue peeking out as he watches where you’re connected, the slick coating his cock, before his gaze returns to your pleasured, sweaty face. “You’re so fucking good, you know that? So fucking good, the way you talk to me. Telling me what you want. Not gonna hide anything like that from me again, are you?”

“Nuh,” you manage, legs twitching. “Eddie.”

”Again,” he gasps. “Please. My sweet girl-”

“Eddie. Eddie-”

Maybe you keep chanting his name, maybe you cry it out, maybe you stop altogether to scream out instead. You don’t know. You just know he’s all you’re thinking of as the pleasure crests, spreading out from the back of your cunt through your body until it’s intense enough you think you might cry. Then it fades to the gentle delight of Eddie still moving inside you, the warmth and weight of his cock when he buries himself deep. You hear him groan, feel the potential for bruises blooming where his fingers dig into your thighs. Then it’s his weight easing down on top of you, the ache in your shoulders and your legs as you let them relax before wrapping yourself around him.

You finally get your hands in his hair. The roots are damp from sweat, his curls tangled in knots. Eddie’s face is pressed so fully to the space between your breasts that you’re not convinced he can be breathing. He mumbles something that’s lost to your ears, then tilts his head up till you can see his face, and his goofy smile. Your heart aches even as you giggle. Then he’s crawling up your body to kiss you, his mouth warm and tasting like the sweat from his upper lip.

“I’m gonna pull out now but I want it known that it’ll take amazing strength of will on my part.”

He does so, disappearing from the bed for less than five seconds to throw out the condom before flopping next to you again and opening his arms to let you clamber into his hold again, you try to fight the rising worries by pressing your face into his neck. He hisses at the scrape of the plastic tiara under his chin, taking it off himself before returning to stroke at your temple with his fingers. “How do you feel, sweet girl?”

It takes you a minute to answer, sorting through all the complicated feelings that emerged the second Eddie wasn’t inside you anymore. “Good,” you murmur. Then, “weird.”

You hate how fast it all happens so soon after something so special. You feel overwhelmed and tired, like you want to scrub yourself raw under hot water, like you want to curl up in Eddie’s arms and smell like him forever. You feel like you don’t want to ever be touched again, but the thought that Eddie won’t makes your heart sore. You wish you were normal. You wish you didn’t have weird fantasies. You wish you didn’t feel guilty about what you want.

Eddie holds you tight against him, and you let yourself feel the comfort of that. Eddie doesn’t think you’re weird, or gross, or immoral. Eddie won’t ever leave you alone to cry and scratch at your crawling skin.

He presses his lips to your forehead, mumbles against your skin. “Gonna let me look after you?”

He keeps you with him while he runs a bath. You’re wrapped in a towel while he runs around naked, giving you mock coquettish looks over his shoulder every now and then until he gets a giggle from you. As steam starts to rise from the tub, he searches through the cabinet under the sink before emerging with a bottle filled with suspiciously bright orange liquid. “We don’t have bubble bath but, uh, this is six-in-one.”

You try sitting in the water together, wrapped up in him, but the pins and needles come too fast, eight limbs not quite fitting as they should. You end up facing him, legs tucked up to your chest, watching the water drip from dark ends of his hair.

“Not as romantic as I’d hoped,” he says.

“It’s okay. I like looking at you.”

His dimples show. Sweetest boy on Earth. He splashes at you a little, waiting for you to smile before talking. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” you answer honestly. Somewhere between giggling at Eddie rushing to his bedroom to fetch towels for you both, a hair tie for you, with his hands covering the crack of his ass while leaving his dick uncovered and him quietly insisting on taking the side of the tub with the tap at his back, the grey cloud hanging over you faded. “Cause of you,” you say, splashing him back.

Eddie smiles, resting his face against his knee. “Is there anything I can do, you know, to make it better, like, before it happens?” He reaches for your hand in the water. “Cause it hasn’t, in a while. I know that this was, like, different, but if I did something-”

“No,” you interrupt. “It wasn’t you.” Eddie lets that sit for a while, waiting for you to continue. “When it’s just me and you, it’s like-” You swallow. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being really, actually myself for the first time in my whole life.” Eddie’s eyes are so soft, looking at you now. “And I know that you won’t ever judge me for…my fantasies, or whatever. But then it’s like, it’s almost like- Like without even wanting to, I imagine what other people would say, if they knew the stuff I told you. If they saw how I am, when it’s just us. And then I just feel like, even though they’re not there, it’s ruined it.”

Eddie squeezes your hand, sighs with his whole body. “That sounds exhausting.”

Tears prick in your eyes even as you laugh without real mirth. “It is.”

“Well, you know this stuff really is always going to be just me and you. Right?”

“I know, Eddie.”

“I wish I could fix it for you, sweet thing.”

You close your eyes tight, trying to force back the tears. You swallow the lump in your throat, thinking, me too. Instead, you sigh, remind yourself that however hard it is now, you’re sure it used to be worse. Before you had Eddie and his humour, his touch, his kindness. “You make it better, Eddie. I promise.”

He’s perfectly gentle with you the rest of the evening, curling back up with you on the couch when you’re dry to restart Theatre of Blood. You let yourself sink into his chest, playing with his rings. You are just about engrossed in the story again, watching with sick fascination as the first critic is stabbed like Julius Caesar. Then, a thought suddenly occurs.

“Did…did you say the soap was six-in-one?”

“Sure did,” Eddie answers. “Face, body, hair, laundry, pets and dishes.”

“That’s why it smells like the terrier next door.”

Eddie hums, lifts your hand to his face and sniffs. “You mean that’s why we smell like the terrier next door.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x shy!reader

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wordy-little-witch · 3 months

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Concepts and ideas that live in my head rent free:

• Buggy having a wacked out immune system and/or nervous system due both to his Devil Fruit and also genetic predisposition.

• His big old red pillow case costume on Karai Bari - I bet it is very soft, and sometimes he'll fall asleep in it after a long, hard day, but while asleep, his limbs rearrange properly, he squirms around and basically makes a little nest out of the fabric. More than a few have found him like this, and most take it to mean he trusts them, to fall asleep in their presence, or a sign of his strength that he is safe even in sleep around them. Others know better, but he IS pretty cute, curled up like a kitten...

• on the sleep thing - Buggy can and will fall asleep anywhere, anytime. He is the reigning king of cat naps. He talks a big game about beauty sleep and all, but he has insomnia AND chronic fatigue. Bc of that, he'll cat nap where and when he can, but otherwise he is being subjected to the exhausting ordeal of existing. Coffee King up in this carnival tent.

• Crocodile also drinks coffee, but even he looks at Buggy's intake with something approaching concern.

• once the cross guild is running properly, they get many organizations expressing an interest in the group. Some want to join. Some want to sponsor. Some want to talk general business. Most of them are renowned criminal enterprises who are used to calling the shots and having their demands met. More than a few outline semi-explicit rules for meetings, ones which mostly align with skewed moral compasses or formality. Buggy, when told he has to dress formally, is so pissed because he genuinely HATES suits. He complains about it loudly. Crocodile finally gets annoyed and tells him to wear a suit or a damned dress for all he cares, just be presentable and meet the guidelines. Which leads to-

• Buggy looks at gender as a very loose suggestion. The idea of clothes being gendered is stupid. If he wants to wear a dress, he'll wear the flashiest, more flattering dress every conceived. He, Alvida and Galdino work together to design a dress for him to have the seamstress or tailor on the island finish.

• Buggy accidentally stumbles into the mafia boss wife archetype and he is THRIVING.

• Mihawk sees Buggy in black one (1) time and damn near begs the other to let him dress him up, it must be done for the good of the world-

That's all I got okay ily, drink water, eat a snack, take your meds if you are prescribed them, and have a great day, as you deserve, my sweets~

#buggy the clown #buggy headcanons #sleepy thoughts #buggy is a fancy bean #Buggy Alvida Galdino #cross guild polycule #cross guild

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kingkatsuki · 11 months

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That bookshop, florist, bakery post going around made me think about this. Im gonna write something about all of them, but first I was thinking about owning a florists where Dynamight is your best customer.

Thinking about Pro-Hero Dynamight who is still very much a bachelor in his late twenties, and his PR team decide it’s time to try to fix his crass image by setting him up on a date with a famous influencer online.

Bakugou’s got no idea what she does, outside the few photos he was provided by his team and the videos that Sero sent him after he broke the news over beers that weekend. Needless to say he’s not happy with the situation, but with another negative story all over the front pages of tabloids and circulating the internet he’s got no choice but to try and fix the mess he landed himself in.

So he turns up at your quaint little flower shop close to closing time, the small bell ringing to signal his entry as you look up from the flowers you’re preparing to take home for yourself for the day. Eyes widening in surprise when you see the Pro-Hero Dynamight standing in your tiny shop in full hero costume. He mumbles that he needs to buy some flowers, and you’re trying to help him pick a bunch. Asking whether it’s for a birthday, celebration or maybe a gift for his mother.

“How about that one?” He points to the flower arrangement you’d just finished wrapping for yourself as you smile.

“Maybe she’d prefer a different combination if it’s for a first date?” You know a lot of the flowers arranged in your bouquet aren’t often favourites, “Maybe some carnations, or even a single rose?”

“Nah, they’re perfect.” He slams some notes onto your desk, far more than is necessary for the arrangement as you hurry to try and give him his change. But he’s already out the door, waving you off as he fists the flowers in a gloved palm.

The sight has you smiling as you watch him through the window, carrying the flowers at the end of his large grenade, following behind him to lock the shop for the night.

And you don’t expect him to come back, but he does. This time asking for different arrangements as you smile and ask if the date went well (which clearly it did if he’s asking for more flowers). Trying to ignore the ache in your chest as though you’d ever stood a chance in the first place as you busy yourself with making the arrangement he requested. Feeling his crimson gaze sear into you as you begin to wrap and tie the flowers, handing them off to him as he once again pays you far more than twice what they’re worth.

Dynamight quickly becomes your best customer, unbeknownst to him keeping you in business even when times are hard and your rent is overdue. Even coming in for flowers for his mothers birthday and Mother’s Day.

You hate the morbid curiosity that eats at you when you google his name, wanting to see the woman that he’s gifting the flowers to (as you wish it was you), and when you scroll through them on social media it looks like she really was the one to tame Pro-Hero Dynamight and have him settle down.

There are days Bakugou just comes in to see you, telling you that your shop is on his patrol route (even though he’s detoured six blocks away from it to get here) just to ask about your day.

The irony that he’s been forced into a high profile relationship to boost his ratings when he feels like he’s found all he’s looking for in a quaint little flower shop in Musutafu. He wants to tell you how he feels, that he hasn’t been gifting these bouquets to her and they’re instead blooming around his apartment. The scent of them reminding him of you at every second, allowing him to fool himself that you’re there with him. But he can’t.

The contract he signed burns through his skin as he regrets ever signing the stupid piece of paper, and he’s so close to the number one position he can taste it. The only issue is now the influencer is trying to push for proposals and engagements, and he’s still not number one.

His PR team assure him that the plan is working, that he’ll hit the number one spot and then the break up will be amicable on both sides.

So instead, he just keeps buying flowers.

But as he lies awake in bed at night staring at the ceiling, he wonders whether that’s even want he really wants anymore.

Because now all he can think about is you.

#I wanna write scenarios for all of them cause I just love chance meetings sighhh #soft bakugou

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mrsparrasblog · 2 months

Text

STRIPCLUB GHOST

I think he wouldn't go to a Stripclub in the Canon but my brain was working again lel. You can find more on my A03: Mrsparras

Moving to England to study abroad has always been your biggest dream since you were a child, so when you graduated and were old enough, you did it. You blessed Erasmus that you wouldn't have so much debt—well, at least you thought so, but in the end, you couldn't make ends meet.

So you decided to search for a job that you could do while studying that also fit with your busy schedule, so you started to work in a strip club in Soho under the promise that you would only be a waitress and nothing more.

You stood behind the bar counter wearing the skimpiest clothes you had and prepared drinks, and to your surprise, it was fun. Even watching the stripper from far away gave you straight-up BI panic; they were also beautiful and mature.

Surprisingly, you even got a lot of tips despite not dancing half-naked around the pole. The customers all called you Angel; being the youngest and most unattainable had its perks.

One day there was a new customer who wore a Ghost mask and was a brick house of a man. He was nice to you despite looking scary.

"Come on, Bunny, tell me why you are doing this," he asked while you served him a glass of his favorite Bourbon. He was nice, always left you a good tip, and was generous. So you didn't feel the urge to lie to him; why should you?

"I need to pay bills; food and rent are expensive in Manchester."

"I see," he said, leaving this time a 60-pound tip on his 18-pound Bourbon.

"Sir, it's too much."

"It isn't Bunny; buy yourself something nice with it, okay?"

And you did buy yourself a proper meal after a long time of only eating pasta with pesto, and it was delicious.

The next day, when you went to work, you got an offer from your boss: 500 pounds for a private striptease, 120 pounds more if it turns into a lapdance. You never wanted to do this; you couldn't dance, and you were insecure about your body. But it was easy money, and you could always bottom out if it was too much for you.

"The man left this costume for you behind." Your bodyguard gave you a bunny costume with bunny ears, white soft lingerie, and a bunny tail. Oh god, what a freak. Problem No. 2: It was at least 2 sizes too small, making your tits almost fall out.

You were curious to find out who specifically requested you, and when you walked into the private room, you saw Ghost. You were smiling; you knew you could trust him, and you would lie if you said you didn't develop a crush on him the last few weeks when he slowly became your regular.

"Ghost"

"Bunny"

"So, um, do you want me to dance?"

"I want you to be comfortable, but yes, I would love watching you dance."

So you began to dance awkwardly at first, but then you enjoyed it, dancing around provocatively, shaking your ass a bit in his reaction, and he enjoyed it. The half-hour stopped, and you were a bit sad.

"It was fun, Ghost."

"It was Bunny."

You thought it would be the last time you did this, but when your bodyguard told you Ghost requested you for the rest of the week, every day your vagina made this weird butterfly-clenching thing. You would dance for him every day.

So you began to dance with him every day, even being bolder and giving him a lap dance. You touched his strong abs while circling your hips around him. You were afraid that the fabric wasn't thick enough to hide your throbbing cunt.

"Love, please don't move," he whimpered.

You looked at him in confusion and asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Bunny, no, just don't move."

You felt his massive erection under you, and you grinded against him again. "Do you mean because of this?"

"Stop it. I don't want to use your poverty for my gain."

"Did you call me a prostitute?" You asked him, feeling completely furious, and you would have fucked him even despite the money.

"No Bunny I'm just saying you're too good for me, okay? Im a dirty man; men like me aren't made for little sweet girls like you," he said before leaving you in utter confusion, horny, and alone.

You didn't think he would return the next day, but he did, and you refused his cash this time before going to the private suite with him.

"Why do you refuse my money? You need it, and I have enough of it."

"I don't want you to see me as a prostitute."

"I could never see you as less than an angel."

This time you didn't strip for him; you just sat on his lap and talked. He told you that he works as a police officer, even though you thought this was a lie, and you told him all about your native country, how you moved here, and how you loved it.

"All I'm saying is I don't think sex is good enough to pay for it," you claimed while laughing. The erection pressing against your thighs was something you already got used to.

"Then you were with the wrong men before Bunny; sex is great."

"It's okay"

He laughed, "You never had an orgasm before ?" his fingers trailed down on the thin fabric of your pants.

You blushed immediately and shook your head, grinding against his fingers for the smallest friction.

"That explains why you are so desperate, Bunny," he chuckled and left.

The next day, one day before your day off, you went to work again, instinctively walking to the private room where he already sat, this time shirtless. He was the picture of a perfect man with strong abs, and a blonde happy trail down to his thick erection that was only covered by his briefs.

"Sit down and give me a lapdance, please, Bunny."

You sat down on him, but this time he grinded against you, not you against him. You would love that sudden change, but you were a bit mad that he left you yesterday after calling you desperate.

"Tell me you want me, and I'm all yours."

"I don't want you," you lied to him.

"I think you want this, bunny. Don't lie to yourself." He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. "I can see it in your eyes. You want me to fuck you hard and make you scream."

"No"

"Yes, you do," he insists, pulling down your costume to expose your bare ass. His hand traces the crack in your ass before dipping between your cheeks, pressing against your entrance. "Admit it, bunny. You want me inside you."

"No, I don't want you," but your body betrayed your stubborn act. You were soaking wet and a moaning mess for him. He was so hot and big, and all you wanted was to let him take care of you. Let him show you what a real man is.

"Lie to me again, and I'll make sure you regret it." His fingers begin to probe, seeking entry into your tight little hole. "Tell me, bunny. Have you ever been taken like this before? Fucked raw by a real man." He laughed at you, his voice sounding mean and dominant to his usual nice behavior. Maybe he had a stressful day, but did you care about what made you so lucky today?

"Good," he growls, finally pushing past your resistance and forcing his middle finger inside you. "Because I'm going to make sure you scream for me." His other hand moves up to grope one of your breasts through the costume, pinching the nipple hard.

"Oh fuck, Ghost."

"That's it, bunny. Let me hear you," he demands, adding a second finger to stretch you wider. His thumb rubs over your hardened nipple as his fingers thrust deeper, searching for that sweet spot inside you. "You like that?"

"No," you moaned.

"Lie to me again, and I'll gag you," he warns, pulling his fingers free with a wet pop. "Now tell me the truth." He grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "Do you want my cock inside you?"

You were thinking of lying again only so that he could gag you, but you needed him right now more than you needed anything in your life before. "Yes"

"Good girl," he praises, lowering his mouth to capture one of your nipples in a hot, sucking kiss. His other hand slides down between your legs, rubbing against your pleading clit.

"You've never felt anything like this, bunny?" He purrs against your skin, "You just want me to shove my cock inside you and claim you as mine, don't you?" He already knew the answer, and he was determined to give you your real first orgasm.

"I never felt like this before, Ghost."

"That's right," he agrees, standing up and pushing your legs apart. His hot breath is fanning across your wet folds as he stares down at his prize. "You're going to feel even better when I'm buried balls deep inside you."

Your pussy clenched and throbbed, and now he saw the evidence of your lust.

"You see, bunny," he says with a chuckle, "your body knows what it wants." His thick cock is at your entrance now, slowly pushing inside. The head teased the tight ring of muscles before finally breaking through with a small groan from both of them.

"Oh god, it's too big." It was bigger than the dildo that you had at home, but you liked the burn and to be filled.

"That's because you've never had a real man inside you before," he growls, starting to thrust deeper. Each movement hits your sweet spot and makes your insides clench around him. "You like that, don't you? Feeling my cock stretching you out?"

"Ghost, im going to cum," you whined as he started to stroke your hard nub while he fucked you restlessly.

"Good," he says, picking up the pace. His hips slam against yours as he takes you hard and fast. The chair creaked under their combined weight. "You're mine now, bunny," he pants out between moans. "Say it."

"Im yours, Ghost," you moaned. He continued the abuse on your pleading clit, leaving soft hits on it before starting to circle it again how you liked it. He read you like a novel that needs to be analyzed. He tried to interpret every movement of yours and intesed his flicks against your clit until you finally came, screaming and crying. Your head fell against his neck, and you bit it like a feral animal. Fuck you thought what has gotten into you.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, he leaned down to kiss you roughly. His free hand squeezes one of your breasts as his cock continues to pound into you. "This is how a real man fucks." Simon picks up the pace even more, grinding against you as his hips smack against your perfect ass.

The head of his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, again and again, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Fuck,"

"Ghost, please." You started to whimper, being completely cock drunk.

"Please, what, bunny?" he asks between moans. His thrusts become even more erratic as he loses control. "Do you want me to cum inside you?" he asked while his eyes turned darker at the thought of claiming you as his, his little innocent bunny.

"Yes"

"Yes, bunny?" he asks teasingly. His free hand left your breast to snake down between your legs, teasing at your clit. His cock is throbbing inside you as he takes you harder than ever before.

"Yes, yes, please." You started to beg, and you felt a bit pathetic.

"Yes, what, bunny?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.

"Cum inside of me, Ghost."

"You want me to cum inside you, bunny?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His thrusts become even more erratic as he nears his climax. "Tell me how much you want it."

"So much, Ghost," you whined.

"Tell me you're mine," he demands, his voice laced with need. His cock is throbbing inside you as he reaches his peak, filling you with his hot cum. "Say it, bunny." You were in orgasmic bliss, clenching around him as he erupted inside of your willing womb. You took everything of his big cock and cum so eagerly, almost greedy, afraid someone would steal it from you. I'm yours."

"Tomorrow at 8 p.m., I will pick you up; we are getting dinner."

You looked at him confused, and he only chuckled, "Did you think I fucked my perfect girl and let you leave then? No, we are going out; well, only if you want to go on a date with this old perverted dog."

"It depends on whether you are ugly behind the mask."

"Quite the opposite, love."

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elizabethwritesmen · 7 months

Text

i don’t want you like a best friend

┏ •◦இ•◦ ┓

Pairing: College!Steve Harrington x Reader ALSO Ghostface!Steve x Witch!Reader (costumes)

Summary: You’re in Indiana for college. You just happen to be roommates with Steve Harrington’s best friend, Robin. This is a list of the times you bumped into him, starting with July move in day and ending with a friend’s Halloween party.

Warnings/Notes (PLEASE READ) : SMUT 18+, pining, friends to lovers, Robin being intrusive, Robin’s parents also being intrusive, angst, Halloween if ur into that, ghostface!Steve x Witch!reader (costumes obv), also if ur name is Grace this isn’t the fic for you just trust me on this, this is semi-modern I don’t mention time periods at all but I also made no attempt at historical accuracy so do with that what u will. it’s all make believe it doesn’t rlly matter imo. also this is a college au so I made up college friends for them! ALSO i have plans for another halloween fic, a super spooky super sexy one, but it will go up late prob sometime in late. november because i’ve put all my energy into this one and staying alive lol. enjoy! <3

┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛

•Move In Day

I stared blankly at the boxes in front of me. The U-Haul I’d rented was jam packed with furniture and all of my belongings, leaving barely enough room to breathe.

For some reason, I thought it would be easy. I thought I could girl-boss it, get it done, all in a few hours’ work. Clearly I was temporarily insane when I came to that conclusion. Oh, well. Now I didn’t have a choice.

I sucked in a deep breath before resigning myself to my fate and starting.

I carried in the lightest stuff first, wanting to get it out of the way. I figured once I got through all the heavy stuff, I wouldn’t have any energy left for it, so might as well do it first. I got about four boxes upstairs, and I was bringing up a fifth and sixth, when I noticed the door already opened. I was sure I had shut it.

I walked in to see a girl and a guy, both around my age. She was dancing around, placing boxes of her own on the other side of the room. I cleared my throat gently, placing my boxes on the rest of my things.

She snapped out of her trance and her eyes landed on me. As did those of the guy she was with.

“Oh, hi!” She smiled brightly, “You just be my roommate!”

“Must be,” I sent her a polite smile in return, but mine was a lot more shy and reserved, “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Robin, and this is my best friend Steve,” she introduced, “He’s helping me get all my things up here.”

“Oh, nice to meet you both. Let me know if I can help with anything!” I offered.

“Oh no, that’s fine, I’m sure you have your hands full! Are your parents here helping you?”

“No, just me. I’m new here, so… I don’t really have anyone,” I shrugged, preparing to head back downstairs when she stopped me.

“Hey, wait!”

I turned around, staring at her expectantly, eager to get back to carrying my boxes upstairs. I didn’t want to be rude, but.. there were so many.

“My parents will be here soon to help me, so why don’t you steal Steve?”

“Oh,” I stuttered, looking to Steve, “I couldn’t ask you to help me. Really, it’s fine, I can get it.”

“It’s no trouble,” he shrugged, “I’d like to. I’d hate for you to have to carry everything up by yourself. Besides, any roommate of Robin’s is a friend of mine.”

I breathed out a little chuckle and nodded, “If you insist.”

He followed me to the elevator, pressing the button for me and walking on after me. I expected awkward silence but there was none, he didn’t allow a single lull between his questions. He wanted to know everything, where I was from, what made me choose the school, what kinds of things I was into.

“Do you go here, too?” I asked him as we approached the U-Haul.

“Yes, I moved in yesterday. Robin helped me get everything to my dorm, but I’m on the first floor, so it was super easy. I figured I should help her anyway, though, even though she doesn’t need it.”

“She might not need it, but extra help is always appreciated. Or any help.”

“Is that your way of thanking me for helping you?”

“Well, it was either that or bake you a cake and there isn’t an oven in the dorm.”

“Raincheck on the cake, then,” he chuckled.

We talked the entire way back up, and I was shocked at how easy it came. I didn’t expect to click so well with him, and I silently prayed it’d be the same with Robin.

“There you two are,” she smiled as we walked back in, “Did he talk your ear off?”

“No,” I shrugged, “He talked the normal amount.”

“Yeah, the normal amount for a 6 year old on a road trip.”

Their dynamic was nice. They picked on each other, sure, but it was all friendly.

On the second trip down, Steve told me about his life. His high school experience, his hobbies, his hair. His friendship with Robin. I couldn’t tell whether or not there was something more than friendship there. I couldn’t help the small part of me that hoped not, Steve was really handsome and the nicest person I’d met in a while. But I definitely didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, and I was much too shy to ask. Besides, a guy like him probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me anyway.

By the time we got back up to the dorm, Robin’s parents were there.

“Oh hello,” her mom smiled, “You must be the roommate! Y/N, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” I responded.

“Well I’m Robin’s mom, Melissa, and this is her Dad, Richard. It’s so nice to meet you! Oh, you’re just so pretty!”

“Thank you,” I grinned, a little overwhelmed with how nice the woman was being. She was pretty, much like Robin, and she’d aged well. But she also had a warmth about her that was comforting, welcoming even.

An hour later, they had all of Robin’s things up and unpacked. They didn’t even ask if I wanted help finishing up, they just got to work, carrying the last of my things up with Steve and beginning to open boxes.

“You guys really don’t have to do all this,” I mumbled, sheepishly. I always felt awful accepting help, overwhelmed with gratefulness to the point of guilt.

“Oh, hush!” her mom laughed, “We want to!”

It only took another hour to have everything in its place, and we all stared proudly at our handiwork.

“Thank you all so much for your help,” I smiled at the group.

“Of course!” Mr. Buckley patted me on the back, his grin charming, “And if you ever need anything else, you call us! Now, how about we all go get something to eat? I think we’ve worked up enough of an appetite!”

I at first assumed I wasn’t invited because, well, it’s Robin’s family and Steve has apparently been her best friend for years so he’s basically family too. I was new in all this and definitely didn’t expect to be having dinner with all of them. But when they all walked towards the door and I hung back, everyone turned to me, matching confusion on their faces.

“Come on,” Robin chuckled, “You think we’re gonna let you starve after all the work we just did?”

And just like that, we all piled into Mrs. Buckley’s car. I was squished in the middle between Robin and Steve. I wanted to give her the middle because she was so small, but she told me she would feel carsick from Steve’s cologne and she’d rather have the window seat.

“What’re you kids in the mood for?” Mrs Buckley asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve responded, and Robin and I agreed.

“I think there’s a barbecue joint a few miles down the road, let’s stop there,” Mr Buckley decided, turning to the back seat, “I know Robin and Steve like that, but is it okay with you, Y/N?”

“Of course,” I nodded, still shocked to be included in the dynamic.

Mrs Buckley almost missed the driveway to the restaurant and she slammed on her brakes and turned in at the last second, throwing me gracelessly into Steve, my seatbelt the only thing keeping me off his lap. He caught me swiftly as he himself hit the door, making sure I didn’t hurt myself in the commotion.

I risked a glance at him to see his eyes peering into mine, concerned and a bit discombobulated from the startle of it all.

“You okay?” he asked, and I nodded, staring down at his arm that was still around me. He cleared his throat, setting me upright in my seat as we pulled into a parking spot.

I turned to Robin, taking note of the huge smirk on her face. She was looking past me, eyes on Steve. Must’ve been some kind of inside joke I wasn’t part of yet.

We all walked inside together, and the hostess sat us at a booth, pulling an extra chair up to the end of it. I went to sit in it when Robin stopped me.

“Remember what I said about Steve’s cologne? And I get claustrophobic. You’d better sit by him, I’ll take the extra chair.”

I nodded slightly, sliding into the booth and letting Steve slide in beside me. I didn’t understand what the big deal was about his cologne, it wasn’t that strong. It was subtle but sweet, cinnamon overwhelming my senses and filling me with a warmth and comfort I craved. The kind of cologne that, when someone passes you wearing it, you stop and take a deep breath in, soak it up for all it’s worth.

Robin’s mom and dad, and Robin herself, were all giving Steve that strange smirk now, and I suddenly felt left out. I guess they were all in on the joke. Unlucky me.

We made small talk while we looked over the menus, picking what we wanted to eat.

“What’re you gonna get?” Steve asked, and I had to look up to realize his question was just for me. Robin and her parents were talking amongst themselves, completely ignoring us.

“I don’t know, probably just chicken fingers. I’m picky when I try new places.”

“Lame,” he tapped me in the ribs and joked, and I squirmed against his touch.

“It’s not lame! It’s a classic!”

“Let me guess, macaroni on the side?” he raised a brow, and I stared sheepishly at my lap, causing him to chuckle, “You’re pretty predictable, Grace.”

“That’s not my name,” I furrowed my brows at him.

“It’s a nickname. You know, Grace. ‘Cause you fell on me in the car. It’s irony.”

“Giving me nicknames already? My, how our friendship is growing,” I rolled my eyes, “If only it wasn’t such a rude one.”

“You can give me a rude one, too,” he offered, and I thought it over for a moment.

“Okay,” I nodded, “Box Boy.”

“Box Boy?”

“Yeah, cause you brought in all my boxes.”

“That’s the best you got?”

“It probably won’t stick, but I like it for now.”

“What’re you two whispering about?” Robin cut into our conversation, wiggling her eyebrows at us.

“It’s a secret, that’s why we’re whispering,” Steve deadpanned, and she snorted.

“Well, you two keep your secrets, and we’ll keep ours.”

“Fine by me, I have a feeling your secrets are pretty dark.”

I stifled a laugh, taking a long sip of my soda.

The rest of the dinner was full of happy chatting and getting to know each other. It turns out I got along really well with all of them, and I integrated well into the little group.

“You know, Y/N, I’m really happy you agreed to come eat with us,” Mrs Buckley told me as her husband handled the check.

“I’m just thankful you invited me! And paid for my food. Really, you didn’t have to!”

“Now stop with the bashfulness, you’re basically family now!”

With that, everyone stood. Steve helped me out of the booth and held the door open for me on the way out. It was sweet, in an old time kind of way. I fought off butterflies, and a crush that I felt coming a mile away.

Robin’s family dropped us off, and we stood outside talking for a few minutes.

“I’m gonna go inside and crash, but you two kids say your goodbyes,” she waved her hands at us and walked away, leaving us in silence.

“So…” I started.

“So…” he repeated.

“It was nice to meet you,” I offered.

“You, too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again.”

“Hopefully.”

“Soon.”

“Yeah.”

I paused, not knowing what else to say. He was making no move to ask for my number, of course he probably wasn’t even interested like that anyway.

“Goodnight,” I smiled.

“Goodnight,” he repeated.

He stood for a moment and I stayed there, waiting for him to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see you get inside safe.”

I giggled, “Yes sir.” And with that, I walked in.

The elevator ride to the fifth floor was long, but finally I was approaching my door, and I walked through it sleepily. I collapsed onto my bed, trying to ignore Robin’s staring.

“So…” she sighed, “You and Steve, huh?”

“Me and Steve what?”

“You guys have got it going on!”

“Have what going on?”

“Oh my God, Y/N, seriously, the sparks could’ve lit a cigarette. Did you give him your number?”

“He didn’t ask,” I shrugged, “Besides. I thought you guys were a thing.”

“I’m into chicks,” she rolled her eyes, “And even if I wasn’t, I still don’t know why you’d think that. I forced you to sit beside him the entire day. You think his cologne really bothers me that much? NO. I wanted you guys to… you know…. hit it off!!”

“Well, I think he’s a little out of my league,” I shrugged, sinking further into my sheets sadly.

“He absolutely is not. And I promise he’s into you. He’s just not the best with girls is all. He’ll have your number soon enough.”

“You’re not planning on giving it to him, right?”

“What? No! I’m gonna make the little shit ask you himself!”

“If he ever does.”

“He will.”

•First Day of Class

I walked into the lecture hall, brows furrowed, trying to make sure I was where I was supposed to be. Yes, room 208, I concluded.

It was a large room, but it wasn’t completely full. There were only about 20-30 people there total. I, of course, didn’t recognize any of them, so I took a seat away from everyone else. Nobody even spared me a glance, and I felt comfortable in my solitude, until the heavy door opened and shut behind me and a figure looked over me.

I looked up to see Steve, just as handsome as the first time I saw him. He was wearing a pair of joggers and a yellow sweatshirt, and he pulled off the comfy look well.

“Why are you sitting over here all alone?” he asked, one perfect eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know anyone,” I shrugged, and he scoffed.

“Well come sit by me and the guys from my dorm. I’ll introduce you.”

“I think I’d rather stay here.”

“Really?” I nodded slowly, “Then you leave me no choice.” He plopped down in the chair beside me, setting his things down and getting comfortable.

“What’re you doing?” I asked him.

“Well I’m not just gonna let you sit all alone.”

“But I like being alone,” I huffed, “Plus your friends miss you!” I gestured to the three guys staring holes through us.

He glanced in their direction and nodded, and that’s all it took for them to pile over to us.

“Stevie! My man! You gonna introduce us to your lovely friend?” One of them asked as he took the seat in front of us. He held his hand out for me to shake and I took it carefully, sighing.

“This is Grace.“

“That’s not my name!” I groaned.

“Then what is your name?” the tallest of the guys asked.

“Y/N.”

“Cute,” he winked at me, and Steve rolled his eyes sharply. “Y/N, this is Tate, Drew and Johnny.”

They all greeted me kindly and I responded in turn, but there wasn’t much time to talk before an older man walked in, an air of authority in his step.

“Hello, all. I’m Professor Chomsky, I’ll be teaching this course,” he began. What followed was a list of rules, regulations, class schedules, and lesson plans dull enough to make my forehead hit the desk in front of me.

“This is awful,” Steve whispered beside me, and the other guys nodded, “Another hour of his voice might kill me.”

“Shh!” I hissed at him, trying my best to focus on what the man at the front of the room was saying.

“Oh, get off it,” Steve smirked, “You’re just as bored as we are.”

“I’ll have you know I’m absolutely riveted!”

“Lying isn’t a good look, Grace.”

Just then, Tate chimed in, “Why do you call her Grace anyway if her name is Y/N?”

“It’s an inside thing,” Steve waved him off, “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Yeah, because calling me ‘Grace’ to make fun of me for being clumsy is such a hard joke to understand.”

“I don’t like your attitude today, Grace,” he furrowed his brows dramatically, and I couldn’t help giggling.

We were all interrupted by the sound of Professor Chomsky’s voice, booming at us to be quiet. We obeyed, whispering quietly every now and then but mostly hanging on by a thread to his monotonous words.

The class ended about a half hour later and Steve and I went our separate ways. We ended up having one more class together, and the guys were all in there, too, plus Drew’s girlfriend Natalie and Johnny’s sister Elaine. Robin as well. It was the most fun of all of them. It also happened to be my last class of the day. As it wrapped up and we all packed up our things, Steve stopped in front of my chair.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked me.

“Sure,” I nodded with a smile, throwing my bag over my shoulder and following him out.

We chatted on the five minute walk. I found that I didn’t want it to end, but I hoped when it did, he would ask for my number. Or something, at least, to make me think he was interested. Part of me knew he wasn’t, though. Not as more than a friend.

“Here we are,” I sighed as we approached the doors.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “So… umm.. I’m happy we have those classes together. It’ll be nice to hangout every week.”

“Yeah, and we seem to have a good little group going. I like everyone a lot.”

“Everyone likes you a lot, too.”

I swayed on my toes, staring at him, waiting patiently. For what, I wasn’t sure.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he proclaimed, his voice chipper. I nodded slowly. “You know the drill, I can’t leave until you’re inside safe.”

I rolled my eyes and gave him a dopey grin, walking in just as I had the last time.

• Hangout at Elaine’s Apartment

Days of hanging out with Steve in class passed slowly, and I soaked in every moment. I was trying desperately to keep what I felt at bay, but it proved difficult when he wanted to walk me home every day.

A month went by and it was Saturday. I woke up around noon, the week had been especially exhausting, and immediately started studying. Robin did the same, sitting at her desk beside me and rifling through her flash cards.

“How is it that he’s walked you home every single day and still not asked for your number?” she asked out of nowhere.

“Robin, we’re talking about biochem. Not Steve.”

“Believe me, Steve is a scientific anomaly, so it’s close enough.”

I rolled my eyes, “I don’t know, okay? It’s like I wait for him to make a move or something every day, but he never does.”

“Well isn’t there anything between you both? All the rest of us can see it!”

“There’s chemistry, or at least I thought there was, but now I’m sure it was just one sided. He’s just not into me like that.”

“Then why does he walk you home every single day and not me?”

“Well… you have another class after that so you couldn’t walk with us, and he probably just doesn’t want to walk that far twice a day.”

“You’re grasping at straws. The boy wants you.”

“Why are you so invested, anyway? It’s not that serious, Rob. We’re just friends, that’s fine with me.”

“I just…” she started, trying to form her words correctly, “Steve has never been good with girls. He had one girlfriend, in high school. She wasn’t the best. I mean, she was fine, and he was happy, but she hurt him and he.. well, the details don’t matter but anyway. He never really had luck with any other girls. He was always too caught up in something else. But now we’re out of that town and you can’t convince me that your coming into our lives was a coincidence. Steve deserves this, and I want him to have it. If he can just get out of his own way.”

“And if he can’t?”

“He will. Believe me. It’s just gonna take a big push.”

“I’d rather just be his friend than stress myself over it,” I shrugged, going back to my studying.

A couple hours later, Robin got a text from Steve telling her that everyone was hanging out at Elaine’s apartment and we should come.

“Wanna go?” she asked me.

“I don’t know, I have a lot of studying left to do,” I hesitated.

“I was only asking to be polite. We’re going,” she stated, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my closet. “And you’re not wearing those wrinkly old jeans and a baggy t shirt. Pick something cute.”

“I’m not really a ‘cute clothes’ girl.”

“Well, tonight, you are.” She looked through my closet, pulling out a yellow sundress I stole from my mom’s closet at some point in time. I had to admit, it was a beautiful dress.

“You’ll wear this with your white sneakers,” she instructed, leaving no room for argument so I just nodded. “Steve won’t know what hit him!”

“Honestly, he’s probably into Elaine.”

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s… well, she’s older. She’s smart, and beautiful, and she always dresses to impress. She’s just.. she’s got everything.”

“Yeah, that’s why I have a crush on her. But I promise Steve doesn’t.”

“Whatever you say.”

Before long, it was time to get ready. I put on a little makeup, just some mascara, blush, and lip gloss, and paired gold hoops and a gold charm bracelet with the dress, slipping on my sneakers and following Robin out the door.

We were supposed to meet Steve outside of his dorm. The plan was for him to drive us to Elaine’s. As we approached the parking lot, we saw him leaning against the driver’s door of his car. Elaine was right in front of him, and they were locked in what seemed like a deep conversation.

“What’s that all about?” Robin asked as we took a step or two closer. I stopped in my tracks, though, when Elaine leaned up and kissed him square on his lips.

My heart shattered into about a million pieces. It’s crazy how you never know how intense your feelings for someone are until they blow up in your face. Sure, it hadn’t been long since I met him, but everyone has had a crush that spiraled out of control way too quickly.

“Hey, love birds?” Robin called out, her voice accusing.

They broke apart, startled, and stared at us dumbly. No doubt Steve saw the hurt on my face, but I tried so hard to keep it at bay.

“Grace,” he started, making a move to walk over to me, but the scene was interrupted by the other 3 guys joining us.

“Okay, so how’s this gonna work?” Tate blurted as they approached, “I know Y/N and Steve always have to sit by each other, And Natalie will be on Drew’s lap in the back, so I’m assuming Robin is gonna squeeze in the back with us?”

“I’d rather ride on the hood,” she croaked.

“It’s fine,” I sighed, “I’ll ride in the back with you guys, Robin can sit up front.”

“Well, someone can ride with me,” Elaine offered, “And you’ll just have to ride uncomfortably on the way back instead of both ways?”

“I will,” Natalie offered, “Wanna join me, Drew? That way there’s room in Steve’s car for everyone?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, following her to Elaine’s vehicle.

“I still wanna sit in the back,” I shrugged, climbing into the middle and letting both boys climb on either side of me.

Steve stared into the car at me for a moment, fists clenched, before climbing in behind the wheel and pulling off.

The ride had the potential to be awkward, and if it wasn’t for Johnny and Tate, it would’ve been. They lightened the mood a lot. Between their jokes and banter, I felt comfortable a couple minutes in. It was only a ten minute drive, and it went by extra quick with them.

As Steve pulled in, the car lurched to the side and threw me onto Tate.

“Woah there, I see why Steve calls you Grace now,” he laughed as he helped me up. The spark I felt when it happened with Steve wasn’t there, but Steve didn’t know that, and he sent us a death glare through the rear view mirror.

Elaine pulled in right after us and lead us up a flight of stairs to an isolate apartment, quite large. It was a one bedroom two bathroom, but every room was huge.

“Mi casa es su casa,” she sighed as we walked in. “I’ve got drinks, card games, books to study, and lots of movies. Whatever you guys are into!”

“Let’s starts out with the drinks,” Johnny suggested, and everyone nodded.

Moments later, we all had a beer in our hands. Elaine suggested we save the liquor for after, and we agreed. We also all collectively decided we would play Cards Against Humanity until we were tipsy, and then we would watch a horrible movie together.

Music played from the radio in the background as we all settled into our spots for the night. Drew and Natalie on the bean bag chair, Johnny Tate and Robin piled onto the couch, and Elaine cozy in her recliner. That left only the loveseat for Steve and I, and I fought a scowl.

“Scoot over, Rob,” I gestured, but she refused.

“I wanna stretch out and be comfy! There’s plenty of room on the love seat!”

I rolled my eyes and flipped her off, walking begrudgingly to Steve and plopping down beside him.

“Is sitting by me really that bad of a thing?” he asked, and everyone stared at me, waiting for an answer.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just.. Robin was right. Your cologne is a lot.”

He almost looked hurt, but he shook it off as we started the game.

A few rounds in, Steve leaned back in his seat, accidentally shifting himself closer to me. I stared down at his leg, almost touching mine.

“You look nice tonight,” he mumbled so nobody but me could hear, “I’ve never seen you in something so… delicate before.”

“If you’re gonna compliment someone, it should be your girlfriend,” I shrugged off what he’d said and took a long swig of my beer.

“Girlfriend?” he furrowed his brows.

“You know. The girl you kissed.”

“Oh.” He stared at his lap. “Listen, Grace, that wasn’t -“

“I don’t want to hear it,” I shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me. You guys are super cute together, I’m real happy for you.”

He looked taken aback but my tone told him he should let it go, and he did, taking a swig of his own beer and leaving me alone for the moment. The moment didn’t last long, though, because before long everyone was a little intoxicated from all the alcohol and his arm was resting on my shoulders. I couldn’t fight the way I fell into him, I could barely even fight the sleep.

“Movie time!” Elaine exclaimed, jumping up to find her favorite DVD. She picked a cheesy old scary movie that barely made sense, and we were all more than happy with it. Nobody wants to watch a good movie while they’re drunk. She settled back in as it began, munching on the snacks she’d brought out for everyone.

“Please talk to me,” Steve mumbled into my hair.

“Don’t want to,” I slurred out, closing my eyes and breathing him in. My actions didn’t match up with my words and I knew that, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Well then come here,” he sighed, grabbing me under my knees and pulling me into his lap. He rested me against his chest, holding me snugly, letting me get as cozy in him as I wanted. “Talk to me when you’re ready.”

If I’d been sober, I would’ve worried about cuddling with Elaine’s boyfriend right in front of her, but I wasn’t. I did spare her a glance, though, and she smiled at me. Strange. She didn’t seem to care at all.

“Shouldn’t you be snuggling with Elaine over there?” I whispered to him, my face nestled in the crook of his neck.

He pulled a blanket from beside the armrest and tucked it over me as he responded, “Let’s talk when we’re sober.”

“Wan’ talk now,” I hummed.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Grace. The closest thing I have to a girlfriend is you.”

“But y’kissed her and you never kissed me,” I pouted. I don’t know whether my attitude came from sleepy delirium or intoxication.

“You’re right,” he nodded, leaving it at that.

“Y’could if you wanted to,” I breathed out as I drifted off into sleep.

I woke up in the passenger seat of the car. Robin was driving, and I looked around frantically for Steve before realizing I was in his lap.

“Oh, hi,” I mumbled.

“Morning, sunshine,” he smiled, “Go back to sleep. I’ll make sure you get in bed safe.”

“I don’t wanna go back to sleep,” I whined, leaning up.

I glanced in the back seat. Johnny was on one side, half asleep leaning on the window. Tate was in the middle, texting someone, and Drew was on the other side with Natalie passed out on his lap.

“Why’s Robin driving?” I asked curiously.

“He didn’t want you sleeping on anyone else,” she smirked at us.

“Oh,” I didn’t know what else to say to that.

He ran his hand through my hair, playing with the strands, twisting them between his fingers.

“That feels good,” I hummed, leaning into his touch.

“Yeah?” he asked as he kept going, tugging the strands a little harder.

“Mmhmm.”

“Get a room,” Tate coughed from his spot in the back, and we all giggled.

Finally, Robin pulled into the parking lot of our dorms.

“Come on,” Steve sighed, opening the car door and helping me out. His hand stayed at the small of my back as he walked me to the door, steadying me when I swayed slightly.

“I’m gonna have the worst headache tomorrow,” I whined.

“Probably,” he laughed, helping me up the stairs.

Robin cleared her throat, “I’m gonna go upstairs and let you guys… talk.” We nodded and watched her go, then turned back to each other.

“I should probably go up, too,” I mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Okay,” he nodded, but he didn’t let go of me. “I want to talk to you about -“

“I don’t want to talk about Elaine, Steve. Just go.”

“But-“

“No. I’m still drunk and I’m tired and my heart can’t take much more tonight so please just go and we’ll talk about it another time.”

“Grace,” he started, and I could tell he was frustrated, but I was too. It sucked walking up on him lip locking someone else. I didn’t want to listen or get over it yet. Any explanation he had wouldn’t be good enough for me, after all, what excuse is there to kiss another girl if he liked me? The only explanation was that he wasn’t into me, and he was trying to let me down easy. Or trying to have both.

“Stop,” I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away slightly, “I said another time. Please go.”

He watched me for a few seconds, waiting for me to change my mind, but I didn’t. I wanted him to go. For the first time, I wasn’t lingering or giving him that look like he could kiss me if he wanted to.

“Okay. Just take my number in case you need anything tonight.”

I nodded slowly, handing him my phone. He inputted the digits and handed it back, then let me walk inside in peace. I made it all the way upstairs before finally freeing my emotions, and the alcohol in my system caused them to spill out of my eyes.

“Oh, Y/N,” Robin sighed, walking over to sit by me.

“I am so over Steve Harrington,” I huffed.

“You didn’t even hear him out?”

“It doesn’t matter what he says, it’s not gonna wipe the image of them kissing out of my head.”

She nodded, staying up with me a little longer before we both nodded off.

The next morning, I woke up to a message from Steve. Apparently he’d called himself from my phone so he’d have my number too.

Good morning. Just checking on you. You feel okay?

I read it over and over before turning the phone off, deciding not to respond. I could feel my head pounding and I couldn’t take extra stress.

I got up, preparing to go get some water from the vending machine, but when I opened the door I saw a convenience store bag on the outside handle. I opened it to see advil, water, and powerade, along with a note scribbled on the receipt.

“Figured you might need this.

Let me know if you need anything else.

Steve.”

My heart grew as I paced back in the room, sitting on my bed. I texted him to thank him, then fell back to sleep with medicine and hydration in my system.

• The Next Class

I ignored Steve for the rest of that day. I suppose seeing him kiss someone else made the walls build up around my heart, but all I knew for sure was that he couldn’t get through anymore. Of course, I was still a bit sad. I liked Steve a lot, but we were better off as friends.

I walked to class the next morning, running a minute or two late but I knew Professor Chomsky wouldn’t care much. When I walked in, Steve and the guys were in their usual seats, and I took mine right in the center of them.

“Morning, Grace,” Steve absolutely beamed at me. I grinned tightly and politely in return, and pulled out my books, not bothering to respond. It probably seemed a little rude, but to me, it was what I had to do. “You gonna keep ignoring me? I screwed up that bad?”

I glanced over at him, “You didn’t screw up at all. We’re friends, Steve. I’m happy when you’re happy and if you’re happy with Elaine then I hope you guys work out.”

“Saturday night you were practically crying, and now you’re giving me your blessing and saying you want me to date her?”

“I was drunk. I’m not anymore, and yes, I want you to be with her. I’m sure she’s a great girlfriend. Just what you deserve.”

“Unbelievable,” he scoffed, “You really just want to be friends?”

“Yes,” I nodded curtly, turning to my books.

The other guys were looking at us curiously, like we were a soap opera playing right in front of them. They looked even more astounded when I walked out at the end of class without waiting for Steve. I felt horrible. He was the sweetest guy in the world. But clearly he liked Elaine more, seeing as she’s the one he made a move on, and I wasn’t going to stand in their way. I was sure it would get easier with time.

The next class I had with him went similarly. He tried to talk to me, and I brushed him off. I didn’t ignore him, I just didn’t entertain him, and I could tell it drove him nuts.

I could feel Elaine watching us, watching him. She must’ve been wondering why he was so wrapped up in me instead of talking to her. I was wondering that myself, but I let it go.

“Are you ever going to forgive him?” Robin asked as we walked out.

“I already did. It’s just not the same. I dunno,” I shrugged.

“I think you should hear him out. He’s bound to have an explanation for that kiss.”

“Even if he does, I don’t want to hear it, Rob. It happened and even if I decided to go back to how it used to be, I’d still see him kissing her in my brain every time he got close to me.”

“I understand,” she nodded, and we parted ways as she headed off to her next class. I, however, set off for my dorm.

“Grace!” I heard from behind me, and I sighed, knowing only one person called me that.

I turned around to see him sprinting to me, “I’m not letting you walk home alone.”

“Steve,” I sighed.

“No.” He seemed genuine, serious. “I care about you. Even if we’re just friends, I care about you. You don’t get to become one of my favorite people and then just cut me off. I’m walking you home. Like a friend would do.”

I stared at him for a moment, then nodded. Truthfully, I was delighted that he’d asked. I figured, with the way I’d treated him that day, he wouldn’t bother.

“So you and Elaine…” I started as we walked, genuine curiosity gnawing at me.

“Can we not talk about it?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Shouldn’t you be walking with her, though? How does she feel about our friendship?“

“Grace,” he warned, and I heeded, shutting up.

We made small talk the entire way, the awkward kind we weren’t used to. I hoped the “friendship” would come more naturally with time. After all, we’d been the best of friends for the entire two months since we met. And we’d never really been more than friends, so I wasn’t sure why this was throwing us off so much.

“Thank you for walking with me, Steve,” I said, preparing to walk away when he grabbed my hand.

“I really want us to go back to how things were before… what you saw.”

“I want that too, Steve. I just… can we forget everything and just be friends like we were?”

“Please,” he sighed, relief washing over him.

“But it can’t be quite the same. I don’t know if you realize how.. touchy, and close we are. Do you think maybe we could take a step back from that for a while?”

“If that’s what it takes to fix this, but I don’t want to. I hope you know that.”

“Steve, you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s- well, she’s-“

“She’s what?”

“I can’t talk about it,” he ran his hand through his hair like he did when he was stressed.

“Of course. Well, when you’re ready to, we can go back to how it was. But for now, we’re just friends who don’t constantly sit by each other and hold hands and hug and walk together.”

“That’s fair,” he agreed, resigning himself to his fate.

With that, I left and we didn’t talk much for the rest of the day. He texted me, but I didn’t respond. I wanted him to get the picture.

• The Halloween Party

Another month passed slowly. Distancing myself from Steve was horrible. Every time the group hung out, he was agonizingly close, but I kept away and he respected my wishes and kept away from me, too. It almost itched, how badly I wanted to reach out and grab his hand. I thought it would become easier, but it didn’t. And the worst part was that the group wasn’t adjusting well to the new dynamic, constantly making jokes and comments about “me putting Steve in the dog house.”

Whatever had been going on with Steve and Elaine seemed to be over, they would chat but I never saw any PDA or even chemistry between them. In fact, she’d grown closer to Robin than anything, and when we would hang out, they would stick together. Natalie and Drew were a pair, and Steve would pack in with Tate and Johnny. I was sort of lonesome, but it was okay. Part of me wanted to just forget the kiss and go fully back to how it was, touching flirting and all. But as I told Robin, it was engrained in my memory and I didn’t really want him if he chose her first.

“Y/N,” Elaine snapped me out of my trance as we waited for class to start, all huddled up in our little group.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I was telling everyone about my Halloween party. It’s gonna be you guys, and a few older friends I have in my other classes. Not, like, a banger, but definitely a crowd and a good time. Interested?”

“Of course, do I have to dress up?”

“Well it is a Halloween Party,” she rolled her eyes at me, laughing.

And that was that. We all planned to go. She was having it at her parents’ cabin, about 45 minutes away from the campus. Obviously, she couldn’t do it at her apartment.

The days leading up to it, Robin and I looked for costumes. She decided to go as Velma, and she tried to convince me to dress as Daphne but I suggested that Elaine be Daphne instead, and they both loved the idea. I had a costume of my own in mind.

I dug in the back of my closet until I found a black peasant dress that I’d had for forever. It was long sleeve, and the sleeves were lace and flared at the bottom. The cut was low and accentuated the way the corseted middle pushed up my chest, and the skirt flared out but still highlighted all my curves in all the right places. I paired it with some ripped up fishnets, black boots, and a funky witch’s hat I found at the Halloween store that also had lace lining it. It was perfect, maybe even good enough to get the kind of attention that would help me forget Steve once and for all.

When the day came for the party, Robin went to Elaine’s to get ready and I got ready alone. I curled my hair, did my makeup perfectly for the first time in forever, and finished the look off with red lipstick. Then I got dressed, and I was ready to head out the door when I got a phone call from Steve, whom I was supposed to meet outside of his dorm so he could drive me, Natalie, and the other guys there.

“Hey,” I answered, “What’s up?”

“Hey, just letting you know, don’t walk over. I’m coming to get you. Natalie is gonna take her car, and the guys are going with her, so it’ll just be me and you.”

“Okay, you headed here now?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in like two minutes.”

“I’ll be outside waiting,” I told him and we hung up.

When he pulled up, I was standing on the curb, all dressed up. My nerves were bundled up in my stomach, and I felt like I needed to throw up. What if he didn’t like my outfit? He’d never seen me so dressed up before.

He got out of the car and ran over to the passenger side, opening the door for me. I couldn’t miss the way his eyes scanned me, hungry and searching for every exposed patch of skin he could see.

He cleared his throat as he sat in his own seat, “You look….”

“Different?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Good.”

I smiled, sitting back. My nerves were still there, but they were eased by the way he couldn’t stop staring at me, glances out of the corner of his eye giving him away as he began the drive.

“What’re you supposed to be?” I asked, raising my eyebrow at his black t shirt and black jeans.

“I didn’t want to dress up, but Robin said I had to so I just picked up a ghost face mask.”

“Ghost face, huh? Chicks dig that.”

“That’s exactly what Robin said,” he laughed, “Billy Loomis does it for girls, huh?”

“I’m not telling you what does it for me, but nice try.”

“I see the new look comes with a new attitude.”

I blushed, covering it up by staring out the window. We were doing so well, just being friendly. Why was he suddenly flirting now? And why was I flirting back? I told myself to get a grip, and stayed silent for a moment, so he turned up the radio, taking my hint.

The rest of the ride was filled with silence, heavy with tension. I felt like a rubber band about to snap, the glances he was giving me sending me into overdrive but I pretended I was fine, crossing my legs and staring out the window.

I opened my door before he had the chance when we pulled into the parking lot. There were a good bit of cars, and it seemed like a little more than a crowd. I suppose Elaine’s intimate hangout had accidentally turned into a party. Steve noticed this as well, placing his hand on the small of my back as we walked in together possessively but I brushed him off, walking over to where Robin and Elaine were sitting on the couch.

Robin must’ve been over the moon with all the attention she’d been getting from the older girl. Just by the way they were sitting, I could imagine her pulse racing. Elaine’s legs were thrown over Rob’s lap, her arms wrapped tightly around her neck. If I didn’t know them well, I’d assume they were a couple.

“Welcome to my party!” Elaine grinned.

“It did turn into quite the event, huh?” I chuckled, glancing around.

“One person told another person who told everybody, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Where’s the alcohol?” I asked her.

“Through that door,” she pointed to what I assumed was the kitchen. I walked that way, running into Tate and Johnny on the way, so they walked with me.

“You look hot, Y/N!” Johnny grinned wide as he told me so. He wasn’t being weird or anything, he was genuinely just giving me a compliment, so I grinned in return.

“Really, who knew you had this badass in you? Red lipstick and everything? Poor Steve must be having palpitations,” Tate laughed, and the other nodded.

“Steve and I are just friends.”

“That’s what you want, not what he wants. He loooooooves you, he wants to smooooooooch you,” Johnny sang, tapping his fingers together in a kissing motion.

“I think you’ve had too much too drink,” I scoffed, pouring myself a cup full of whatever looked good and leaving them to go back to the couch. The only open spot was beside Steve, so I took it, sipping on my drink.

“You’re not gonna make yourself a drink?” I asked him, and he shook his head.

“Put on your mask, dingus. It’s a costume party,” Robin reached over and poked him, and he rolled his eyes as he did as she asked.

He looked good. I could feel my heart begin to race as he turned to me, and usually it would’ve made me nervous, but I just felt powerful in that moment. I knew he thought I looked good. I wanted to use it. I wanted to make him burn like I had.

I leaned in close to him, “Wanna play psycho killer?”

“Grace-“ he started, but I cut him off.

“Can I be the helpless victim?” I placed my hand on his chest, my fingers brushing over where hair peeled through the top of his v neck. I almost felt him shiver. “Please don’t kill me, Mr Ghost Face. I wanna be in the sequel!” I trailed my hand down his chest, scratching him lightly with my nails. As I approached his waist line, he grabbed my wrist sharply, halting my movements.

“You think you’re cute?” he huffed.

“You think I’m cute,” I smirked. I pulled my hand away from him and got up, leaving him there basically panting as I walked away.

I found Johnny and Tate chatting with a couple of other guys, and approached.

“Oh, hey! Y/N! I was wondering where you ran off to!” Tate smiled, welcoming me in.

“Just went to mess with Steve,” I shrugged, glancing at the other guys. One of them had his eyes on me, and I took the opportunity.

“Are you friends with these guys?” I asked him, leaning in a little closer.

“Yeah, I stay in the same dorm as them,” the guy nodded.

“Oh, neat! I can’t believe I’ve never seen you before!”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Plenty of time to make up for it,” he winked at me.

“What are you doing?” Johnny whisper yelled into my ear, “Steve is watching you!”

“Steve and I are just friends. He likes kissing other girls so I’m gonna go talk to another guy.”

With that, I stepped closer to the mystery man. “Wanna dance?”

He nodded, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the center of the floor where people were dancing. He turned me around and I began swaying with him, daring to glance over at Steve. He looked furious, absolutely fuming at the sight of me with someone else. I was thriving off of it.

All of a sudden, Elaine pulled me away from him, pulling me closer to the couches. The guy protested for a second but Elaine sent him a death glare and he backed off.

“Why are you doing this?” she sighed.

“Doing what?”

“Dancing with him. Steve is right there. You’re breaking his heart.”

“Steve kissed you, Elaine. Even if you guys aren’t a thing, even if it didn’t work out or whatever and he likes me now, it happened and I can’t just forget that. He liked you more than me or he wouldn’t have kissed you instead of me and I don’t want to be second choice.”

“But that’s not what happened! Steve and I were never a thing!”

“Well he must’ve felt something, because he sure did swap spit with you.”

“It was a peck,” she rolled her eyes and huffed, throwing her hands up dramatically, “And I’m gay.”

My mouth fell agape, “What?”

“I never knew. I mean, I always thought girls were cute or whatever but I never had romantic feelings for them. Then I met Robin and couldn’t think about anything else. Excuse my bluntness, but I’ve never wanted to scissor anyone so badly. Steve is so easy to talk to, I completely opened up that night. I asked him if I could kiss him to see if I felt anything. To see if it felt right, and he said yes and believe me, neither of us felt anything. It was just weird.”

“So you and Robin are together now?”

“Well… I’m hoping we’ll get together tonight, if you catch my drift.”

“And Steve never liked you?”

“Of course not. Y/N, he’s been head over heels for you since he met you. He doesn’t talk about anyone else, he doesn’t think about anyone else.”

“Oh God, why didn’t I just hear him out sooner when he tried to talk to me about this? I’ve screwed everything up!”

“Look at him. He loves you, it’s all over his face. You haven’t screwed anything up.”

I stared at him for a moment before thanking her and heading his way.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, standing directly in front of where he sat so my knees bumped into his bent ones.

“Why didn’t I tell you what?”

“About Elaine. If I’d just known-“

“I promised her I wouldn’t say anything to anyone until she was sure.”

“Still, you could’ve-“

“You were so upset about me kissing another girl, nothing but the truth would’ve worked.”

“Steve,” I sighed, “If I had known-“

“What would you have done?”

“I would’ve- Well, I would’ve-“

I couldn’t even complete my sentence, he cut me off at the jump, leaning in and slotting his lips onto mine. I was startled for a moment but he didn’t stop, and eventually I kissed back, savoring every second like it was the last. He pulled away as if he wanted to say something but I didn’t let him, pulling him right back in by his shirt and wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands found my back, pulling me closer into an arch and wandering, ghosting over my waist line.

We were cut short by cheers coming from beside us, and we backed away from each other just enough to look.

“It’s about damn time, dingus!” Robin huffed, wrapped tightly in Elaine’s arms. I blushed, hiding my face in Steve’s chest, and he leaned down to my ear.

“Come with me,” he whispered, and I nodded.

He lead me to the backyard, where a lake was glistening in the moonlight. There was a lake house beside it, cute and cottagey, like something out of a story book.

“Elaine is letting all of us stay here tonight,” he explained, “There’s only three bedrooms, though. So she told me we could stay out here.”

“She just assumed I’d be staying wherever you stay?”

“I mean, be honest with yourself, Grace. Even if we were still just friends, you’d rather bunk with me than anyone else here.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I shrugged, following him through the door to see that it was immaculately decorated. It didn’t have a real fireplace like the house did but it did have one of those huge automatic ones, so he turned it on, warming the place up. It was one room, there was a bed in the corner, not huge but big enough for the two of us, a TV above the fireplace and a couch in front of it with some other furniture scattered about. There was a closet and a bathroom, as well.

“We left the party awfully early,” I observed, turning to him.

“I have a night in a lake house with you, and you think I wanna waste it partying?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” I smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer.

“I’m in love with you, Grace. I haven’t loved anyone in a really long time, and maybe never like this. And I know it’s quick, but I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too, stupid,” I rolled my eyes, pulling him closer until his lips met mine again and we fell into a dance of teeth and tongue.

He grabbed the fat of my hip, squeezing, the dress bunching up in his fingers.

“Fuck, Y/N, do you even know what this dress does to me?” he groaned, “Never seen you like this before.”

“I only bought it so you could take it off,” I rasped as his lips found my neck. At my words, he started sucking, leaving a mark I was sure would stay for days, and I moaned. Something about him wanting to claim me made me shiver, goosebumps littering my skin, my need multiplying.

“I can do that, baby,” he nodded, reaching behind me and pulling the zipper down slowly. He eased it down my shoulders, his fingertips brushing my skin and his eyes following their path. His irises got a little darker at the sight of the black lace covering my most sacred places, and he went ahead and undid the clasp of my bra, letting it fall with the dress.

“You look so pretty like this,” he sighed, staring at me for a moment, his gaze loving.

“Your turn,” I smirked, slipping my hands under his shirt and pulling it over his head. My fingertips clumsily attempted to undo his belt, and he stopped me, doing it himself one handed and throwing it on the ground. It was one of the hottest things I’ve seen him do. I let out a light moan, and he chuckled.

“Feel like a helpless victim yet?” he asked.

“You’re not wearing the mask, so no,” I shrugged jokingly, and he frowned.

“I can fix that,” he stated, walking to the table by the door where he’d set said mask. He pulled it on his head and my mouth fell slightly agape. He looked so perfect. So pretty.

“Want me to fuck you just like this?” he asked, and I nodded frantically. “Come here,” he grabbed my hips lightly, leading me to the end of the bed. He spun me slowly, “Bend over for me, baby,” he coaxed as he pressed on my back. I did as he asked and all I heard was a rip as he tore off the stockings, not worrying about my shoes.

I looked back to see him falling to his knees, then I felt his fingertips where I needed him most and I gasped. It was slow at first, just light touching, but I was absolutely dripping, desperately waiting for what I wanted.

“Steve, baby, please,” I whimpered, and he chuckled again.

“Anything for you, Grace,” he cooed, pushing one finger in. I let out a sigh and a moan, begging for more, and he obliged, pushing in another and eventually a third. Before long, he had a steady rhythm, pushing in and out of me in a way that had me ready to come apart.

“Please Steve, need it, need more, need you,” I panted, pushing back on him, reaching behind me to touch whatever part of him I could reach.

I heard a sharp zip as he undid his pants, kicking them off. His tip rubbed against my slit teasingly at first, then pushed in slowly, and I let out a shaky breath. He was huge, bigger than I’d probably ever had, and my walls were stretched deliciously. It didn’t help that I hadn’t done anything with anyone in a while. I’d been waiting for Steve since before I even met him.

“Please,” I whined, my voice a broken shell of what it was before he kissed me. He’d wrecked me already and hadn’t even fucked me yet.

“Here you go, baby. I’ve got you,” he sighed, setting a steady pattern of thrusts, hard and quick and perfect, everything I needed from him, His hands found my hips, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises, and I met him thrust for thrust pushing into him like a woman starved.

That lasted for a little longer before he pulled out abruptly. I whined, achingly empty, but he stopped me short by grabbing my hips and turning me over. “Scoot back,” he instructed, “I wanna see your pretty face.”

“I wanna see yours too,” I hummed as I did as he asked, scooting all the way to the top of the bed and laying my head down like a true pillow princess. He nodded, ripping the mask off and tossing it aside, and I gasped at him in all his glory. He was so handsome, hair a mess on his head, a slight sheen of sweat making him glisten.

He climbed up on top of me, grabbing my leg and putting it over his shoulder. He leaned down and captured my lips as he pushed in, and I groaned, the new angle putting him in just the right spot.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” I whimpered.

“That’s the point,” he smirked, reaching down to rub circles on my clit as he fucked me harder. “Such a good girl, gonna cum all over me?”

I nodded frantically, wrapping my free leg around his back and pulling him in farther, earning a deep groan.

“You’re so perfect like this, taking it so good. Who woulda known my quiet girl could take it like this?” his words spurred me on, making me see stars as the coil in my tummy got ready to snap.

“Steve baby need to cum, please cum with me,” I gasped, clenching around him as I finally snapped, and he groaned. He wasn’t very far behind me, and we rode out our highs together, staring at each other when we were done like a couple of lovestruck kids.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” he whispered for only me, and I giggled.

“It’s okay, Steve. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t spent so long being jealous, this would’ve already happened.”

“I think it happened right when it was supposed to,” he smirked, kissing me on the forehead and walking to the bathroom. He wet a towel and brought it back, cleaning me up and then himself, then joined me in bed.

“Would you wanna, like, go on a date with me?” he asked, nerves clouding his voice.

I thought it over for a moment, leaving him in suspense.

“Of course. How about tomorrow?”

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